For poor… less financially viable people, this house wasn’t too bad, he supposed. Too cluttered and full of hodgepodge knick-knacks for his taste but there was no vomit colored carpet like in Bob’s house.

Following the noise it was easy enough to find the source. The littlest demon was all red-faced and omitting both a sound and a stink that made him consider sealing the door and never coming back. But he felt a sort of loyalty to the poor guy who was stuck here. He was probably living the dream in Draco’s apartment right now. He better not mess up any business until they could be switched back.

Suddenly he felt a tug on his trouser leg and looked down. The boy who reached no higher than his thigh was looking up at him with eyes the color of melted chocolate and brandy.

“Mister, where’s my dad?”

Sharp kid. No one else had spotted it.

“I don’t know.”

“Will he be back?”

“Yes.” Please Merlin.

“Where are you from?”

“London.”

The boy continued to look at him as the baby cried before he apparently deemed Draco worthy of help. He climbed a little stool that stood next to the crib and peered down at his sister.

“I’m Liam. This is Evie. She needs changing.” Following the boy’s instruction’s Draco performed an unspeakable act he would gladly give up shares in his company to a troll to avoid doing again. To try and distract himself from the horror of it he pumped the boy for information. All he managed to get out of him was that his parents had been together “almost forever” and that Liam was four years and seven months old. The walkie-talkie made a crackling noise and Ginny’s clipped tones echoed.

“It’s time to get ready for the party, Draco. Liam, go wash your hands and face. And don’t think I won’t notice if you don’t.”

Liam and Draco eyed each other. Draco had never wanted to go to a party less than now but if he went where he was meant to be he might find a way back. Or someone who could tell him what the hell was going on.

He put the now clean and gurgling baby down in the crib and went back to the room where it had all started.

Opening the only closet there was he gave a sigh of pity. The man had appalling clothes. All synthetics and….was that a Hawaiian shirt? That had better be a joke.

After doing his best with the poor resources at hand he was marched to the floo, Liam attached to his hand as Ginny carried the baby and promptly whirled through the fireplaces until they go to…it had to be…it was.

The Burrow.

He had been there once before during his short relationship with Ginny, suffering through a stiff dinner with her parents that her brothers had thankfully not been invited to.

If that dinner had been stiff and quiet the welcome this time was the opposite. Tumbling out of the fireplace Liam disappeared in a second to play with what had to be a myriad of cousins. Mrs. Weasley descended upon them like a clucking hen and startled to see a woman he hadn’t seen in thirteen years smile at him like he was a long lost child he didn’t have the mental capacity to duck when she gave him a hug and kissed his cheek.

“Ginny, Draco, there you are! It’s bedlam here as usual but your dad has drinks in the living room. Go say hello. Let me take your coats as well.”

Stunned Draco followed Ginny into the next room which was packed with redheaded people. Several of her brothers smiled at him in greeting and he felt as if he’d already had a few drinks. He had to be impaired somehow if any Weasley but the littlest one was friendly to him.

“Uncle Draco? Uncle Draco?” The little voice came from the vicinity of his knees and he looked down to see Harry Potter. Or Harry Potter if he had known him when he was about five years old. The little black haired boy tugged his trouser leg, “Uncle Draco, Liam says you’re an alien, is that true?” The green eyes he had detested all through his childhood (and still did, to be honest) looked up at him in wide wonder.

“Ah…sure.” An alien in this life in any case.

“Nu-uh, you don’t look like an alien. You’re not green.”

“Maybe I’m wearing a disguise and once I take it off I’m really seven foot, green and have thirteen tentacles and sharp teeth, my favorite food little boys smothered in custard.”

The little boy took a step back and then another before running away. He almost sniggered. Then he remembered he was in a house surrounded by Weasleys.

Spotting Arthur Weasley, whose once red hair was now completely white, behind a table with bottles on it he rushed over.

“Oh, Draco, marvelous. What can I get you?” Before the man could reach for anything Draco had poured a large whisky and downed it. Blinking in surprise, Arthur then leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially,

“Long day?”

“The longest.”

“Here, have another. And if anything is the matter you know you can always come talk to me.” Arthur Weasley poured him a large measure and winked at him and gratefully Draco felt a little warmth spread in him that didn’t have to do with the drink. When he turned he found himself face to face with the two eldest Weasley brothers and...Harry Potter.

“Draco, what’s your take on the Cannons chances this year?”

“The Cannons?” Automatically he replied, “They suck, as they always have.”

The surprised glances he received told him he had said something the version of him wouldn’t normally. Struggling to fix it, he continued, “But they’re due.”

The others relaxed again and he took another gulp of his drink. As the three other men continued their discussion he looked out over the room. Though there were more red headed people in there than he had ever seen in one place, Ginny still stood out from the crowd. She was looking much like he remembered her, an attentively listening group around her as she spoke, her face alive and eyes bright.

Drawn forward as he always had been to hear what she was saying, and maybe catching some of the radiance of her attention he heard,

“And she’d made me a sweater, and on the front it said
“Non-profits do it for free”!”

“You work non-profit?” It burst out of him. They lived in a small hovel and she worked non-profit?

“Only for the last thirteen years, Draco.”

“Great. That’s just great.” He turned away and heard her say something joking before the crowd once again fell under her spell.

o.O.o

Waking up the next morning at first he only heard blissful silence.

The nightmare was over.

He relaxed back into the mattress. Then an earsplitting scream erupted and he sat up. The little bedroom with the clutter and honey-coloured walls was still the same. The shower was running in the next room and he could hear Ginny singing off key along with the tinny noise from a shower radio in the bathroom.

How did this man not go insane from the pure noise level in this house? Dragging himself out of the bed he looked down in distaste to see checkered flannel pajamas. Grandpas wore sexier stuff to bed.

“Er…Ginny?” It sounded weird on his tongue, it had been so long since he said it. “Ginny?”

“What? I can’t hear you through the door, Draco.”

With a prayer for patience he tugged the door open and froze. He’d assumed she was out of the shower, wrapped in some hideous terry robe as she dried the masses of that red hair. But the woman was buck naked behind a frosted sheet of glass, swaying her hips in time with the song on the radio. Her body had barely aged a day since seventeen, was all he could think. Her breasts were fuller but still high and her hips perhaps a tad wider but the waist was still as small and her legs as long and lean. He swallowed heavily and tried to think of ice storms and big scary spiders. Turn away, Malfoy, she’s some bloke’s wife, and a mother of two!

Turning to face the wall he felt the heat starting to fade from his cheeks. Merlin, he hadn’t gotten that excited from just seeing a naked woman since he was a teenager.

Since…Ginny.

“Ah…the baby…Evie, she’s crying.”

“Mmm?”

“Well, shouldn’t you do something?” Please, and hurry, the noise was skull splitting.

“Don’t try with me. It’s Tuesday, it’s your turn to take the kids. And if you don’t want to be late to work you better hurry.” Work? Take the kids? Take them where?

“But I…”

“Draco, this is not up for discussion. I have an early round today and it’s your day. Shoo.” He heard the tell-tale flint in her voice and knew there was no point in arguing.

o.O.o

“This is nursery. Evie stays here while you and Mummy work.” Taking Liam’s word for it he managed to unstrap the baby from the mystical contraption cheerily referred to as a car-seat and hand her to an elderly woman whose purpose it seemed was to look after children. He wondered what she had done in her life to deserve that fate.

“Now you take me to school. You don’t have to pick me up, on Tuesdays I have judo practice til five and then Henry’s mum takes me home.” Stopping in front of the school Liam clambered out before Draco remembered to ask,

“Liam, where do I work?”

Turning back the little boy answered,

“At grandpa’s shop.” Son of a witch, he worked for Arthur Weasley? As a salesman? Life really had hit rock bottom.

“I’m a salesman?”

“Yes.”

“How did I end up as a salesman?”

Liam shrugged.

“I had everything going for me. And I became as salesman in Arthur Weasley’s shop?”

Liam shrugged again.

“Right. Fine. I’m a salesman. I drive a minivan, I wear flannel and I work as a salesman.”

o.O.o

Arthur Weasley owned a shop that sold Muggle items enchanted to work in the wizarding world. All through proper channels of course. Draco only knew where it was because he had had to get his TV from there when he furnished his London flat.

Situated in a shopping center for Muggles, you reached it by passing under the “To Let” sign outside the storefront thinking of Magical Muggle Machines until it appeared.
It was a large shop, shelf after shelf with anything from TVs to chewing gum “that doesn’t do anything special at all”. All shelves had little helpful signs explaining what the item did. Rushing past the aisle for “ghoul-free plumbing” and taking a right at the sign that proclaimed “heat food - while you wait for it!” he managed to avoid anyone besides the young spotty assistant he asked to point him to his office.

Reaching it he sat down heavily behind his desk. It was a cramped space with Muggle contraptions in various stages of disassemble spread on most flat surfaces. On the desk was a picture of Liam holding Evie in a staged photo, the familiar blue background of all paid for photos around the world. Still. The kids were laughing genuinely. Maybe they had to to keep from crying over having such miserably unlucky parents.

Next to it was a picture of himself and Ginny, young and hopeful and he snorted, picking the picture up. With a start he realized he actually remembered when it was taken. It was on Hogwarts grounds, by the lake and he was sitting on a blanket, Ginny between his legs and leaning against him. Neither of them had known the Creevey kid had been spying but he’d been too proud of the shot to keep it secret.

It had been the beginning for them, the first spring they had together. That day he had been happier than any other in his life. Remembering it he could smell the fresh breeze off the lake, the soft scent of Ginny’s hair, the feeling of her warm body pressed against his and her fingers playing over his hands. His heart had beaten heavily against his chest and what had happened after the Creevey kid had sneaked off Draco would have beaten him up so he couldn’t walk for a week if he’d seen. But that instant had been a perfect moment, caught forever in the picture.

Setting it down he felt a slight pressure over his chest and he turned his attention to next one. With a start he realized it was a wedding photo. It was a wizarding kind, both of them laughing as they sat at a table, Ginny looking stunning in a white dress and her hair swept up. He recognized his great-grandmother’s engagement ring on Ginny’s finger, the emerald winking in the light.

“What on earth are you so happy about? Look where you ended up!” Slamming it down again he rubbed his hands over his face. He needed to get out of this bizarre alternate universe.

o.O.o

Though the flannel pajamas were horrendous and an offense with anyone possessing the gift of sight, he couldn’t deny they were comfortable. Wearing them he watched the Muggle news in a cozy cocoon of worn fabric.

“…investment firm has announced today the acquisition of the pharmaceutical company Azure, one of the largest players in their market.”

Draco sat up straight.

“That’s my deal! My investment firm arranged it, dammit!”

“The deal is orchestrated by investment firm Zabini-Parkinson and Azure will be purchased for thirty-five million pounds.”

“What? Zabini? Thirty-five million? I got them for twenty, you incompetent, miserable, inbred waste of breathing space!”

Ginny came rushing into the bedroom, her eyes bright.

“The kids are asleep and it’s still only nine.”

He glanced over at the clock and saw she was right. He didn’t really know what response her correct measure of the time warranted but he dutifully replied,

“So it is.”

“That means,” Ginny bent and pulled one of her shoes off, hopping in place as it stuck. With a thud it hit the floor and she froze for a second to listen for any noise from the nursery. When none was heard she exhaled softly. “That we have some time.”

Time for what, Draco wondered and politely averted his eyes as she pulled her heavy jumper over her head.

Hearing her get rid of the other shoe and the hiss of her jeans hitting the floor he was forced to turn his eyes to her when she turned the TV off.

“I was watching that!”

“Not now.” She clambered up on the bed and pulled one of his socks off.

“Hey, what are you doing, it’s cold!” She was wearing panties, a camisole, a glittering gaze and nothing else. His throat squeezed shut and heat bloomed in his abdomen.

“I’ll warm you up in a second,” she smiled and let the other sock follow. Crawling up she straddled him and tilted her head.

“Wait, you…you want me.” He could hardly believe it.

“That’s the general idea.” She pulled her hair tie out and the heavy locks of her hair tumbled around her face. He felt himself harden in response and she ground against him with a sigh. Knowing she was some other man’s wife and the mother of that unknown’s children couldn’t hold a candle to the look she was giving him.

His hands found her thighs and letting them explore he settled them on her hips. She let her head fall back to expose the pale, perfect column of her throat. Grasping the hem of her camisole she pulled it off. Her breasts rose and fell in her simple white bra with little embroideries around the edge of the cups and he gave in. With a groan he turned them over and pinned her to the mattress. Claiming her lips he felt as if a crate of Filibuster’s Fireworks had gone off in his head, color and heat blooming in his mind. She arched against him and desperate for more he set his teeth to her neck. Her breath hitched and her hips jerked against his. Smiling to himself he noted some things were the same in this universe. Laving his tongue over the spot to soothe the bite she sighed his name and he felt himself harden almost painfully against her. He supposed in this way things weren’t so different at all. Pushing up to see her face he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. Like this, in the evening light, lying under him you could barely tell years had passed since the photo on his desk had been taken.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She smiled and a faint blush warmed her cheeks.

“You sound like you haven’t seen me every day for the last thirteen years.”

“I feel like I haven’t. You were gorgeous when you were younger, you always were but now…now more than ever you’re absolutely beautiful.”

Light sparkled in Ginny’s eyes and as he bent to capture her lips again she stopped him.

“Wait.” Worming her way from under him he groaned. “I have something. I got it for something special. I’ll just be a second.”

Then she rushed into the bathroom and was gone.

Frustrated, he rolled over and stared accusingly at the ceiling. But in the minutes she was gone he had time to think. The woman wasn’t his Ginny. Who had been his Ginny, he corrected himself. She looked like her like he looked like her husband but she wasn’t the same. He couldn’t take advantage of her thinking she was with the other man. The man she had a life, a family with. It wasn’t right. No matter how badly he wanted to forget everything to have her in his arms again he had a life to get back to.

When she returned he forced himself to keep his eyes shut and his breathing even. He heard her sigh in disappointment before she climbed into bed again. A feather light kiss over his temple let him know she was wearing something silky and wispy and he cursed the predicament he was in to hell and back. She turned over and burrowed into the duvet and he was left to desperately try and recall old Quidditch scores to keep himself in check.

Author notes: I hope you enjoyed :)

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