~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

“Teddy?”

The sight of the little boy shocked Ginny just as much as Draco’s arrival at her doorstep had. But she wasn’t given much of a chance to piece together what was going on for Teddy launched off the floor and into her arms—she only just managed to catch him and swing him up onto her hip, just as she had done with Rose earlier in the day. He was much bigger than Rose, his shoes knocking her knees as he swung his legs.

Before her very eyes, Teddy’s hair changed colors as he grinned happily at her. The dark strands on his head lightened into a color similar to Ginny’s, ginger and bright. This wasn’t the first time that Ginny had seen Teddy’s hair change and she knew it wouldn’t be the last. Ever since she babysat Teddy with Harry when he was only a toddler, the boy’s hair would change color to whoever he laid eyes on, as long as he liked the person.

It made going out anywhere with Muggles rather difficult.

But the sight was always pleasant, especially since Teddy’s hair always went red at the sight of her. Now, however, the familiar smile that came to her at the sight of his changing hair lasted on briefly as she turned to look at Draco, who had been suspiciously quiet the whole time.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he asked, once their eyes met.

She frowned.

“Do I have to?”

His glower was enough of an answer. Ginny couldn’t help it, though. Draco had only visited her flat once before and it had been very brief; he had only wanted someone to complain to about the Daily Prophet writing that the Tornados should boot him from the team. She had a feeling this visit would be somehow similar, if only in the sense that he was here to complain and wanted her to listen.

But he looked exhausted. Even with the poor lighting in the hall, Ginny could see the strain on his face. She nodded and stepped back into her flat, turning her back to Draco and putting Teddy back on his feet. Teddy curled a finger, a silent request for her to come closer to him, and she leaned in.

“Am I allowed to stay over here?” Teddy asked, hopeful.

“Let me talk to Draco first, yeah?” Ginny replied, standing straight. “Go on, there’s some games in there.”

Teddy raced into her drawing room and she looked back to Draco. He had closed the front door behind him when he stepped in and seemed to blend in with the shadows. Tilting her head, Ginny bit her lip hard before deciding to speak.

A loud whistle emitted when she opened her mouth.

Draco stepped out of the shadows, his eyebrow rising.

“That’s a first,” he drawled.

The kettle was ready. Ginny closed her mouth but already felt a smile tugging at her lips. He was such an idiot.

“You look like shit, Malfoy,” Ginny told him. “Need a cuppa?”

She led the way to the kitchen, knowing that he was following her without needing to check. The sound of his light footsteps was familiar to her and she always managed to pick up on it no matter the level of noise around her. Switching on a light, causing Draco to squint slightly, she headed towards the stove and took the teapot off the flame. Then she reached for two mugs.

“I forget how very Muggle your flat is,” he observed.

Ginny glanced back at him.

He looked too tall in her kitchen but she supposed all the boys did; her ceiling was rather low but she was short and never cared. His arms were crossed over his chest and his shirt was untucked and wrinkled. Merlin, this was the most disheveled she had ever seen him. Taking a moment to study him, she again noted the darkness under his eyes, the harsh frown marring his expression, the loose strands of hair that were so unlike him. Ginny hated the sympathy that flooded her at the sight.

“Spending time with a child looks like it’s doing you well,” she said after she made them each a cup of tea.

She approached him and handed him one of the warm mugs. He took it, one corner of his lips turning upwards briefly.

“Yes, well, it doesn’t help that I was out drinking last night.”

Ah, that made more sense.

Ginny had seen Draco hungover more times than she could count over the years—and he had seen her the same. It was never fun hating yourself the morning after drinking in general but to have to babysit the same day was absolutely dreadful. She reached out and patted his arm sympathetically.

“Teddy is under the impression he has the option of sleeping over.” Ginny paused. “Now why would he think that?”

“The boy clearly likes you better,” Draco responded.

“Yeah, well, I don’t call him the boy,” Ginny told him, rolling her eyes.

He didn’t seem to hear her, instead taking a long sip of his tea. His eyes fluttered shut as soon as the liquid reached his lips. Ginny wanted to look away, really, but instead she continued staring up at him.

Warmth spread through her at the odd intimacy of having him in her kitchen, leaning against her tiny table with the full weight of his body, sipping from one of her chipped teacups. He let out a long breath before his eyes peeked open, showing her the gray irises that were hidden underneath. They lingered on her.

“You need my help?”

The words came from her as she remembered what he had first said to her when he still stood out in her corridor, awaiting entry. Draco inclined his head slightly and she knew that saying the words the first time had been hard enough for him. He never asked Ginny for help, despite the fact that they had been on friendly terms for years now. She was surprised it took her so long to remember the plea; the shock of seeing Teddy had stalled Draco’s words from being properly processed.

“How could I possibly help you?” she asked cautiously.

“Oh, I don’t know, take the child for the next two months and allow me to piece my sanity back together.”

Ginny stared at him hard and, after a pause, he shrugged one shoulder.

“I don’t watch children. I don’t like being in the presence of them. I don’t particularly care for the fact that their noses seem to constantly have mucus pouring out of them or that their voices reach incredibly high pitches when they’re bored. And, honestly, the brat doesn’t seem to care for me too much either,” he ranted.

From the other room, Ginny could hear Teddy talking lowly to himself. Draco must’ve picked up on it too in their moment of silence for he cocked his head slightly. Then she heard the well-known sound of Gobstones hitting the table. He must’ve found the board she left out from the other night.

“Children are loud, messy, and annoying.”

His eyes raked over her.

“Rather like you.”

A laugh escaped her without her permission and she reached over, shoving him. The impact didn’t affect his position against the table much, only shifting him slightly, but his smirk was undeniable.

“Malfoy, you really should start calling him by his first name. It doesn’t exactly make you seem friendly when you keep calling him child, brat, boy…” she trailed off, wondering what else Draco had been calling Teddy since he started watching him.

“You still call me Malfoy,” Draco pointed out.

“Only when you irritate me.”

His eyebrows lifted, as if to say Well, when the brat stops irritating me I’ll call him by his given name. Then he suddenly leaned forward, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her upper lip. She stilled.

“He likes you. You should’ve seen his face when I told him we were heading to see you. It was like Christmas came early for him. He likes you and if he likes you it will make this all much easier. Come to my flat, stay over a few nights and make sure, I don’t know, that I don’t damage the boy further,” he rushed to say.

“Your flat? You want me, you, and Teddy to crash at your place? It’s hardly bigger than mine!”

If she remembered correctly, the few times she had seen his place it was almost the same size as hers. And her own flat had trouble fitting her and whatever visitor decided to stop by, much less her, bloody Malfoy, and a young boy.

Draco ignored her.

“Come on, Weasley. You like children, right? How many spawns have your brothers produced so far? Eight? Nine?”

“Three, actually,” Ginny replied, glaring.

“Well, it’s three more children in your life than I have, isn’t it?”

He clearly felt like he made a valid point for he was waving his right hand around dramatically.

“You didn’t make it seem like you were getting Teddy today.”

“I had thought I’d be able to get rid of him. I failed.”

Annoyance crept up on her hot and fast. It was Friday night. She had an exhausting day with her family. And all she had wanted to do was listen to music and have some tea while relaxing on the couch before going to sleep.

“He’s your responsibility, Draco,” she said through clenched teeth. “It’s Friday night and I have things to do. I was going to—”

He looked up, having been focused on the steam from his tea, and zoned in on her.

“Sit here and listen to that horrible music all night?” Draco interrupted, smirking. It was the first time since he’d arrived that he looked completely back to normal.

The music drifted in from the drawing room now that there was silence between them and Teddy was no longer talking out loud. One of the artists hit a particularly high note and Ginny almost stomped her foot in frustration.

“What am I going to be able to do that you can’t?” she snapped.

“Oh, I don’t know, make sure the child survives the night.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you’re being particularly stubborn. What do I have to do?” he asked.

“Go home with Teddy and let me rest.”

“To get you to come with me,” Draco elaborated, eyebrows raising.

It felt like butterflies had been let loose in her stomach. Staring at Draco as he studied her back, a plea for her to help him on his lips as he stood in her kitchen, tired and desperate, could not be ignored no matter how much she wanted to.

With a sigh, she took a seat at the table and put her head in her hands. Her eyes darted back and forth over the cracked white tabletop. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Draco, of course, or that she didn’t want to spend any time with Teddy, for she did love the little boy. Any irritation she felt now was simply because she was tired from the day. And if it were Hermione or Luna or any of Ginny’s sisters-in-law asking Ginny to stay over for a week to help out with the children she wouldn’t hesitate. No, the real issue was that it was easy to control herself around Draco when all they did was practice together and maybe visit a pub afterwards… but to stay with him at his flat for a few nights?

It seemed like poking a sleeping dragon. She could handle herself just fine when there were others around to distract her, when she knew she couldn’t pounce on him because the coaches were watching… but to be alone with him for so much time on end could be dangerous. Ginny had always found it hard to not go after what she wanted. What if her resolve broke over the next few days? Everything could be ruined.

The idea of spending more time with Draco, though, was extremely appealing. She had never lied to herself and said she didn’t enjoy liking Draco—it was just hard to not want him to like her back. This would give Ginny a glimpse into the part of Draco’s life she wasn’t included in. And, maybe, it would even help her break free from the hold he had on her. Maybe he was an absolute slob at home. Perhaps some annoying habits would come to light that would make her realize she didn’t like him at all!

Grimly, she lifted her head and was startled to find he hadn’t looked away from her.

“I can stay till Friday and then you’re on your own.”

An eyebrow lifted in question.

“I spend the day at the Burrow,” she admitted. “And I refuse to break that, lest my mum come looking for me and find me at your flat.”

He collapsed into the seat beside her.

“Friday, then,” he agreed.

Laughter rang from the other room unexpectedly and they both let out sighs.

)*(*)*(

The relief that had washed over Draco as he waited in Ginny’s flat, keeping a wary eye on the boy who was more than delighted by the Gobstone game in front of him, was overwhelming. Draco wasn’t one to ask for help and coming to Ginny had been his absolute last resort. But, hell, the child had been an absolute menace in the short hours they spent together.

The boy had wanted to go outside and run around, which Draco had not wanted to do—the idea of sitting the warm sun while still feeling a tad nauseous hadn’t been appealing. He had wanted Draco to teach him to play chess, swearing that Ginny’s idiotic older brother had already begun to and he just needed to brush up on his skills. Draco also did not want to do that. When Draco left the kitchen to wash his face and brush his teeth, the child managed to pull everything out of his packed bags and throw it around the kitchen. Andromeda must’ve placed an extension charm on the two bags for the number of things spewed around his flat was staggering.

He had almost wrung the boy’s neck at the sight of the mess.

Eventually Draco did decide to go outside with the Lupin boy to find food. He had been lost in his thoughts, debating whether to actually stay for the rest of the summer with the child at Malfoy Manor or not (he rarely visited home after the war, far too many bad memories, and the idea of being there alone with a kid was not one he liked), when he realized the boy was no longer by his side. Gone, without a single peep.

It took Draco thirty minutes of further debate (how much did he really care about this brat) as he attempted to search for him before Draco found him, sitting happily on a bench, looking out at the street. The menace’s hair was teal, which it certainly hadn’t been when they left. He could change his appearance. While the knowledge fascinated Draco briefly, his anger soon came back. When Draco had gone to yell at him, the boy’s words almost broke him.

“Where have you been?”

Who did this child think he was? His father had been a werewolf, his mother an absolute idiot, and his grandmother a traitor to her family. Draco had to turn away and take several deep breaths before coming to the conclusion that he needed help—simply someone to balance him out. Pansy wouldn’t do, for she had warned him before they went their separate ways the night before that if he reached out to her she’d send him a Howler. Flint was on project for the Ministry and would be working long hours. And Zabini was on holiday with a pretty thing in France.

The ginger haired harpy that he shared a locker beside came to mind right away and, strangely, he had relaxed at the idea of going to her. She was his only friend that would actually hear him out. And Ginny had sent him that letter earlier in the morning, inquiring after him.

Now, after having visited her and seeing her resolve soften the longer he spoke of the disastrous situation, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever express his gratitude. Draco was sure she’d be reminding him of this favor for the next five years but he hardly minded.

When Ginny was finished packing up a small bag, they used her Floo to get back to Draco’s place. Though he’d never tell her, Ginny’s fireplace had always been set up to have access to Draco’s flat, just in case anything went wrong and she needed a quick place to escape to. He never put much thought into that reasoning when he set up the Floo system and he refused to think on it too much even now. Instead, he watched as she took the child’s hand and went into the fireplace with him, emerald flames licking her legs.

She shot him an annoyed look before disappearing abruptly. He followed after a moment of hesitation.

When his apartment came into view, he stepped out of the hearth and onto his rug. He brushed the soot off his shirt and then turned his attention to the mess before him. The child had pulled out blankets from his closet, tossing them onto the chairs and couch. Draco looked around, spying Ginny right away.

“I thought you were supposed to stop him from being messy.”

“I’m not a house-elf, Draco,” she said shortly. Then she sighed, pointing distractedly at the boy. “He wants to build a fort.”

“A fort?”

A fort in his drawing room? Was she mad? Draco had only just cleaned up the boy’s clutter from earlier! But from the way her lips curled up in a grin, obviously taking note of his brief panic, Draco knew she had probably told the Lupin boy to go right ahead with his plans.

“This is where I’ll sleep!” the boy proclaimed as he began shaking out the blankets.

It was obvious the child was talking to Ginny, and not him, and for that Draco was thankful. He went into this kitchen and poured a glass of water. A thought came to mind; this was not how Draco expected his week to go, babysitting a werewolf’s child with the help of a Weasley. What had he done to deserve this?

“Well, I’ll be sleeping out here too so you’ll need to make enough room for me,” Draco heard Ginny say.

He frowned and stepped out of the kitchen.

“You’ll be sleeping in my room, Weasley,” he said. “Don’t be foolish.”

She spun around on the couch in surprise, her eyebrows furrowed. It was rare for him to catch Ginny off guard and a flash of amusement went through him at the sight. If there was one memory he wanted to save of Weasley, it was this: dressed in holey pajamas, hair haphazardly thrown in a bun on the top of her head, cheeks flushing red in disbelief.

Draco forgot how startlingly pretty she could be sometimes. He reckoned that not many people were privy to seeing her like this.

Alarmed at his thoughts, Draco refocused on her.

“In your room?” Her voice was pitched oddly. “Where will you sleep?”

He frowned.

“In my room also,” Draco answered.

Ginny opened her mouth, closed it, then let out a weak laugh.

“Draco, I can sleep out here—”

“You can sleep in my fort,” the Lupin child offered, interrupting her.

“Yes, Ginny, sleep in the child’s fort,” Draco drawled. “I’m sure it will be very comfortable sleeping on the ground.”

She glared at him, crossing her arms.

“Or the bathtub,” he suggested. “I’m sure that will be just as snug.”

“You’re a prat.”

“Watch your language in front of the child.”

It looked like she was beginning to reconsider coming to his flat so, in order to keep things peaceful, Draco headed to his bedroom. After all, it was nearing eleven already and he hadn’t received proper sleep the night before. Ginny could deal with the child, he could go to bed and, maybe for the first time in the last week, pretend he wasn’t a permanent babysitter.

With that thought in mind, he grabbed a pair of clean briefs, headed to the bathroom that was connected to his room and had a door leading out to the hallway, and started the shower. The clothes he wore felt dirty and stretched but Draco wasn’t too surprised by that. Chasing after that menace had been far more exercise off the pitch than he had taken part of in a while.

The hot water felt nice on his back, soothing his taunt muscles, washing away the experience of the day. After a good ten minutes, Draco left the shower, put on his briefs, and entered the room. It was perfect timing, too, for Ginny barged in not a moment later. Her eyes felt hot on his back and he turned to look at her, aware that she wanted to fight with him.

“Something wro—”

“I put Teddy to bed, if you were worried about it.”

With no warning, she threw the bag she had been carrying at him. Her aim was on point; the bag collided with his stomach. Thankfully it was much softer than a Bludger. He caught it with an ‘oomph’ that seemed to satisfy her, amusement coloring her features. Draco tossed the bag beside his dresser before climbing into bed. Under the covers, his body was already calming, breathing evening out as he got into the perfect spot.

Then he felt her gaze on him again.

“Yes?”

Ginny stood by the foot of his bed, frowning. Was she… was she nervous? Draco sat up a bit, eyes darting over her. He hadn’t really thought it strange to share a room, a bed, with Weasley. They were teammates and had gone to several training camps together, sharing a room for the few hours of sleep they got before their coaches woke them up for a grueling day of practice at their stadium in Romania. Perhaps this was different for her though. After all, they hadn’t shared a bed at the training camp. He had simply assumed with her dozen brothers she wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with a guy friend.

He went to speak but she shook her head, as if breaking herself from a daze, and climbed in beside him.

“I conjured Teddy a bed, so the floor wouldn’t be so rough,” she muttered. “But there still wasn’t much room out there so…”

“Ginny,” Draco started then stopped, feeling oddly on the wrong foot. “I can do the same if—”

“And I figured he’d be likely to pee in his sleep so I figured you were the better bedmate,” Ginny continued, ignoring him as she settled into the pillow.

Her ginger hair fanned out around the black of the pillowcase and he stared at it. What a startling contrast. He looked away, meeting her eyes.

“Unless you also wet the bed, then I’d rather stay out there with Teddy.”

Draco smirked, the strange feeling leaving him now that Ginny seemed back to normal.

“Why’s that? Prefer his pee over mine?”

“He has a smaller bladder,” she retorted softly, eyes fluttering shut as she twisted away from him. “Less pee on me.”

As Draco relaxed under his blankets, the lights throughout the room dimmed until there was nothing but the glow from the stars outside shining in. He let out a long breath, comfortable for the first time in twenty-four hours, and drifted to sleep.

)*(*)*(

As easy as Ginny tried to make it seem that she fell asleep, the act ended as soon as she heard Draco’s breathing even out beside her. She twisted slowly and turned to look at him. All she could see was the outline of his face in the dark. The only thing she could hear were his soft breaths.

He hadn’t thought twice about her sharing a bed with him? Ginny fought back a groan and covered her face with her hands. Draco was an absolute fool. But what did Ginny expect? The man sleeping beside her had no idea that of all the times she envisioned herself in bed with him none of the situations played out like this.

Even through the covers, she could feel his body heat. Her hands twitched against her face, eager to reach out and explore the man beside her. Abruptly she stuffed them under the covers and clenched them into fists. She needed to sleep. Teddy would likely be a nightmare in the morning, up not long after the sun rose and full of energy.

This was not how she envisioned her Friday night.

Forcing herself to unwind, Ginny turned away from Draco again. It wasn’t till much later that sleep claimed her and, even then, it was not peaceful.

Ginny kept waking up throughout the night. Every time she’d wake up, startled and having to remind herself where she was, the endless thoughts of what the hell was she doing here and she was really going to regret this, wasn’t she would begin. It didn’t help her relax but she couldn’t make it stop and she’d fall back into a restless sleep where she’d dream of the man beside her, his sharp grin and his dancing eyes as he stood just in reach.

Then she’d wake up again.

The vicious cycle continued for hours. When Ginny woke up for the seventh time the morning sun was shining in the room, brightening the furniture. She groaned in displeasure. Her eyes were heavy from lack of sleep and the skin on her face felt tight. Perhaps another hour of sleep, or two, would help her—

“You really are one of the worst bed companions I’ve ever had.”

Ginny jumped and looked over. Draco sat up in bed beside her, flipping through the Daily Prophet. When he felt her eyes on him, he glanced down his nose at her.

“Really,” he repeated.

Sitting up, Ginny rubbed her face, barely containing a second groan.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” she managed to grumble.

Draco pressed his lips together. For a moment, she thought he’d let the conversation die. Then he shifted, turning his full attention to her.

“Tossing and turning all night. Talking in your sleep. Once you even hit me in the face. You’d be a rather good Beater, Weasley, if that hit was any indication.”

She wanted to scowl at him but found a smile fighting its way to her face. When he saw her expression lighten, his eyes began to twinkle the same as they did in her dreams.

“I expect it would’ve been better for me to sleep with the Lupin boy,” Draco continued.

“I told you he would’ve probably peed the bed.”

“And that makes him a worse candidate than you? At least his hits wouldn’t have left me winded.”

Ginny pressed a hand to her lips to hide her smile. Then she lowered it, turning on her side to stare up at Draco curiously.

“Did I really hit you?”

He sniffed.

“Yes. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up from me shouting. But I suppose you Weasleys can sleep through anything, bloody monsters.”

Laughing, Ginny reached over and grabbed the Daily Prophet from his hands. Draco didn’t put up much of a fight, letting the paper slip from his grasp easily. She spread the paper out wide over the sheets and glanced at some of the articles. Honestly, the Daily Prophet would be just as useful written in gibberish. The articles were always rubbish and seemed to center more around celebrity gossip than actual news.

That fact didn’t stop her from reading it every morning, however. Back at Hogwarts, Hermione had engrained it in Ginny’s head to constantly read the paper.

“What time is it?” Ginny asked, distracted as she turned a page.

Draco picked up his pocket watch from the nightstand and glanced at it.

“8:17.”

“Checked on Teddy yet?”

“Why would I do that?” he asked.

Ginny looked up at him, not surprised that he seemed genuinely confused.

“Because it was his first night in a new place,” she answered slowly. “And children tend to wake up early.”

Draco stared at her blankly.

“I’d rather thought after a night of sleep in an actual bed you’d look much better,” he informed her, ignoring what she had said.

Pushing the paper away, Ginny threw the heavy covers off of her and started to get out of bed. She knew Draco was watching her, waiting for an answer. Taking a second to collect herself, she stood from the bed and started to head to the door.

“I didn’t sleep well,” she admitted.

“Dreaming of me?” he asked casually.

Ginny paused at his words. Sometimes she wondered if he realized how close he was to hitting home or if he was simply so self-absorbed he assumed everything was about him—not that he was wrong, for she had been dreaming about him. She put her hand on the doorknob but looked back at him. His attention was on the Daily Prophet once again.

“Your bed is too lumpy.”

He looked up at that, his eyebrows rising, but she had already opened the bedroom door and stepped out. Loud bangs immediately reached her ears and she scrunched her face in anticipation. When she rounded the corner, she saw Teddy peeking out from under his fort. His eyes were lit up in excitement and his hair, which had been brown, turned ginger once again. He crawled out from under the blankets and ran up to her.

“You’re awake! I’ve been so bored!”

Teddy had changed out of his pajamas already; the discarded clothes were tossed carelessly on the floor beside the couch. His fort, which he had successfully finished building with Ginny’s help the night before (she only used a little magic, really, to keep it up), spanned completely over the drawing room, covering everything except one chair and Draco’s chess set. Amusement tickled Ginny as she eyed the room. Draco was not going to care for this at all.

Her stomach rumbled slightly and she pressed a hand against it. They needed to find some food and, hopefully, coffee. She had an inkling Draco didn’t keep much in his cupboard.

With that thought in mind, Ginny walked up to Teddy and ruffled his hair. He laughed but dodged out from under her hand quickly.

“Want to go find a café with me?” she asked.

He nodded happily.

“We can go exploring!” he cried out.

She nodded and went to turn, the idea of a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes being exactly what she’d need before they left, but stopped when she almost walked into Draco. He had on a silk robe and she bit back laughter at the sight of it.

“Merlin, you’re so posh.”

“So posh,” Teddy mimicked.

Draco narrowed his eyes.

“I was going to offer to show you where the café is—”

Draco paused as his eyes swept the drawing room. Then he cringed slightly, glancing away from the clutter and back to Ginny.

“You do owe me,” Ginny reminded him.

He waved his hand.

“Go on, then, get ready.”

She grinned and stepped around him.

)*(*)*(

The streets were busier than Draco preferred but he recognized that it was Saturday, a day he normally avoided going outside, and tried not to let it grate on his nerves. By the time Draco and Ginny finished getting ready, the Lupin child was almost bursting with energy. It took Ginny yelling for him to slow down several times to keep him nearby. Then, when they got to one of Draco’s preferred cafés, the line outside was ridiculously long. But they had the best pastries in the small town that Draco resided in and it was worth the wait.

Ginny watched over the boy as he ran from shop window to shop window while Draco stood in line. Then they found a shaded spot under a tree, at Ginny’s insistence, and enjoyed their breakfast.

“That does sound like a horrible day,” Ginny allowed, after having listened to Draco’s story of his atrocious first day with the child.

She licked each one of her fingers clean, finished with the pastry, and Draco’s nose scrunched. Her lack of manners was ghastly.

“But, sadly, that’s exactly what every child is like. Victoire is like a Blast-Ended Skrewt when I watch her. It’s exhausting. Rosie is okay but,” she shrugged as she thought over her words. “once you get her talking, it’s sort of hard to get her to stop. Louis is still so young but dirty diapers and vomit is still awful.”

The way she spoke of those children was a mystery. While describing how annoying it was to watch them, there was an affectionate tone to her voice that Draco only ever heard when she randomly mentioned one of her family members. Draco looked over her curiously. Her knees were drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on them as she looked out after the Lupin boy. Draco could hear his voice, loud and energetic, as he played with some random child he had found.

Ginny glanced over at Draco.

“Did you tell Teddy to stop? Or ask him to clean up his mess? Did you tell him why you were angry when he ran away from you?”

Draco scoffed.

“I’m not the boy’s parents,” Draco paused. “Or his guardian. Either way, I’m convinced he’s doing it all out of spite. He doesn’t want to be staying with me. I don’t want to have him here. He’s going to make my life horrible until that dreaded woman who calls herself his caretaker returns from her vacation.”

Beside him, Ginny started laughing.

“Merlin, Draco, you overthink things. He’s a child. He’s not doing anything out of spite—and if he is, it’s because you treat him like an annoying fly that won’t leave you alone. Just treat him like, uh, maybe, an actual person. Didn’t your parents treat you like a person when you were young?”

“A nanny watched over me when I was young.”

The laughter that had carried through her words died. Draco had looked away while he spoke and felt no need to glance at her now. He knew exactly what the expression on her face would be. Pity. As if he needed pity from a Weasley. While she had a hen of a mother hounding over her and her herd of brothers he had a nanny who had catered to his every need. While his mother had become loving and attentive when he went away to Hogwarts, she had been unsure of how to deal with him before then. Draco didn’t blame her. He hardly knew how to deal with the Lupin boy and only had to watch him for two months.

“My nanny never yelled at me, it wasn’t her place,” he added.

That explains a lot.”

Scowling, he looked over at her to find a slight smile on her lips. She leaned towards him, knocking her elbow against his.

“Talk to him. Call him by his first name. Play with him. You did play as a child, didn’t you?” she teased.

Of course he played as a child. But not often with other children. Honestly, his only friend had been his nanny, in some twisted way. She had been strict but had a soft touch; it always calmed him when he felt ill or was irrationally angry. But she hadn’t ever reprimanded him. The one time she tried had been her first and last attempt. Draco never heard from her again after his parents dismissed her. But he was off to Hogwarts soon after and his mother made a desperate attempt to fill the void the loss of his nanny created.

Ginny’s attention was off him once again, focused on the boy. She had grown up with more brothers than needed, likely showered with their persistent attention, taught to play well before she could speak. It made sense that Teddy enjoyed Ginny, that she knew how to make the child laugh with a simple pulling of her face and could make him stop running too far from them with a simple change of her tone.

Draco could admit that he was using Ginny as a buffer so he didn’t have to deal with the child directly. It was a move of desperation on his part. After all, this was the most time Draco and Ginny had spent together outside of Quidditch and it was only because of this situation. It wasn’t unpleasant spending time with her, Draco did enjoy her company, but it was strange. The sun was shining, the grass soft beneath them, people laughing and chattering around them… and they were sitting beside each other, arms nearly pressed together, speaking easily.

If the war had never happened, if he had broken away from his father’s clutches sooner, if she hadn’t been so bloody obsessed with Potter, would they have experienced something like this while at Hogwarts?

“What do you even do all day with a child?” he asked, eyeing the boy as he ran around.

Ginny shrugged.

“We’ll take it one day at a time. Today, we’ll hope he burns off all his energy here.”

It was an hour and a half later that the boy finally sat down beside Ginny and Draco, his cheeks bright pink and his forehead sweaty. Draco eyed him but, unsurprisingly, the child’s attention went to Ginny right away. His hair had mostly remained ginger throughout his playing with the other random children—Draco had thought they looked like a little gang as they roamed the park, close-knit like a pack of dogs.

Ginny suggested going home and playing some games. The Lupin child seemed to be okay with that, nodding happily as he got to his feet. Draco simply perked an eyebrow and held back a sigh.

This day went much smoother than the day before; a fact that Draco couldn’t help but be extremely relieved about. Ginny was right, though Draco would never admit it, that after running around with the other children at the park the Lupin boy was absolutely exhausted.

When they got back to Draco’s flat, a letter awaited them from Andromeda.

Ginny helped the boy write back to his grandmother, Draco found several menus from local takeout spots to show the pair, and the hours slowly passed. By the time they were ready for sleep, the brat was nodding off in his fort, mumbling random words as a response whenever he picked up on something Ginny or Draco said to each other. Like a mother, Ginny tucked him in.

Teddy’s hair changed from red back to brown in his sleep. Draco and Ginny shared a look after both noticing it before heading to his bedroom.

“Do you think he’ll fall asleep like that every day for the next two months?” Draco asked as he entered the bathroom.

The sight before him stilled him. Ginny’s things covered his sink, ranging from her toothbrush to makeup bag. Draco wasn’t sure why she bothered bringing the makeup. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen her wear it. Dirt and sweat coated her face more often than blush and mascara and Draco preferred it that way. Merlin, even the child had things in here. A tiny, purple toothbrush sat beside Ginny’s.

Draco moved to his shower and opened the glass door. Unsurprisingly, toys were taking up far too much space in the tub. There was even a bottle of soap to create bubbles for the boy. Wasn’t he too old for that?

Frustration rolled through Draco and he took several deep breaths to force it away. Draco had shared bathrooms before, often with Ginny. And this didn’t even scratch the surface of what the locker room looked like midseason. It was simply that this was his bathroom. His sanctuary.

He was beginning to rethink his decision not to go to Malfoy Manor, where there would be more than enough room for all three of them. And a house-elf, so takeout food wouldn’t be necessary.

“How do you feel about going to Malfoy Manor?”

Draco asked for a laugh from Ginny, sure that the idea would revolt her, but he heard no response from his bedroom. He walked out of the bathroom and stopped in surprise. Ginny was lying on his bed, taking up far too much space, eyes closed and breathing steady. Her soft snores were enough of an indication to him that the day had exhausted her just as much as the Lupin boy.

He finished getting ready for bed before crawling in beside her. This was how Draco pictured Ginny sleeping; sprawled out, taking up a ton of space with her mouth open a bit to let the snores escape. It was how he’d find her when his alarm would go off in the early mornings in Romania, as he tripped around the room trying to figure out if the shoe he was putting on was his or hers. Ginny never set an alarm at the training camps, far too used to Draco’s rushed shout of Weasley, get the fuck up, I’m not waiting for you! He did always wait for her but only because she was remarkably quick at jumping out of bed and dressing quickly.

A small smile adorned his face at the memory.

Closing his eyes, he let sleep wash over him.

Sunday and Monday were spent much like Saturday. They woke at a decent time, Draco checked on the boy like Ginny had asked the first day then showered, Draco and the child stared at each other silently while Ginny showered, then they went off to the café. Sunday it was cloudy but pleasant. Monday it was raining but Ginny and the Lupin boy didn’t care and insisted they go to the café anyway. Then they wandered around for a bit before heading back to his flat, playing Gobstones or teaching Teddy—Ginny kept insisting Draco call the child by his given name and though it was hard and felt dry on his tongue he tried, if only to keep her face from twitching every time he addressed Teddy as the boy—how to play chess, as he had asked of Draco the first day.

Ginny was actually rather good at chess. She insisted it was because her moron of a brother was brilliant at the game but Draco refused to hear it. Ron Weasley would never be good at anything in his mind and nothing Ginny said could change that. While Draco had allowed her into his good graces, he preferred to keep the rest of the Weasleys far, far away.

Monday, after a game of Gobstones, Ginny had taken Teddy to go get groceries so they could begin cooking instead of eating out every meal, allowing Draco a good hour by himself. He laid on his bed, listening to the sweet silence that had once been a constant in his flat. Their giggles and footsteps could be heard before they even opened the front door.

Dinner that night was a mix of cooking between Draco and Ginny, with some help from the boy. Draco had always been good at potions in Hogwarts and Ginny had been raised in a house of wolves so, with their combined efforts, the meal came out half decent. Then the rest of the time was spent with Ginny reading some Quidditch books or magazines with Teddy, Draco staring out his window and wondering how he was going to manage this for another two months, the boy playing in his fort, Ginny making Draco help the Lupin boy write back to Andromeda, etc., etc.—it was an afternoon wasted.

The days went by slowly, painfully, but Teddy didn’t annoy Draco nearly as much as he had that first day and for that he was grateful.

“What is this, Draco?” Ginny asked him Monday night, when they weren’t so exhausted that they immediately fell asleep.

Draco looked up, cautious, to see Ginny toeing a basket that sat in the corner of his room. It was filled with yarn. He stilled then shrugged.

“Yarn.”

“Why do you have this in your room?”

Her voice was light, curious, but he could see her mind whirling as she held his gaze.

“I knit.”

“You—what? You knit?”

He leaned back in his bed, eyebrows lifting. She looked drunk off of excitement at the admission, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“My mum knits, Draco, is this really yours? I cannot—” She was half laughing as she spoke. “I cannot wait to—”

“To tell someone? Granger, perhaps? Or, maybe, Johnson and Davies?” Ginny froze, eyes narrowing.

“You say that like they already know.”

“No, I say it knowing that no one will believe you if you tell them.”

Her face fell and his lips twisted into a sharp grin.

No one,” he reiterated.

She went to sleep without a further word but Draco didn’t trust that she wasn’t scheming anything. After all, she was the little sister of those two meddlesome twins. The only fond memory he had of a Weasley at Hogwarts was of the twins’ exit from the school, sending off rockets and flying off on their brooms. It had been irritating to watch but, simply, brilliant.

Draco knew that her silence on the subject of him knitting only meant trouble later on.

When they ate breakfast Tuesday morning, Ginny having cooked up some eggs and toast, she didn’t mention it. Sometimes he’d feel her gaze on him but when he looked up she’d be looking at the boy or staring off into space. When they carried a chess board out to park, freezing the pieces so they didn’t startle any Muggles, she hadn’t brought it up at all, instead putting her full attention at attempting to beat him.

She failed.

That afternoon, the Lupin boy had his first Quidditch little league practice. They didn’t need to stay for the practice but it only lasted an hour and Ginny’s excitement at the prospect of watching little children fly a couple feet off the ground was enough to sway him to stay. He conjured chairs and they sat beside each other. Other parents stayed to watch also, mingling and chatting with each other, but Draco put as much distance between them and the parents as he could. Ginny didn’t seem too bothered to join the group either.

It was then that she decided to speak, as the coach showed the group of children how to straddle the broomstick.

“Hats, then?”

Draco glanced at her but she was staring straight ahead, watching the group.

“What?”

Her face was perfectly blank.

“Hats? Scarves? My mum is known for her jumpers.” Ginny’s eyes met his. “Maybe you two should get together.”

He glared at her.

“Think you’re funny, do you?” he drawled.

Her expressionless mask broke and she was suddenly laughing. Ginny reached out, wrapping her hand around his forearm without thought, squeezing it gently as she spoke.

“I never would have thought you’d take up knitting, is all, Malfoy!” Ginny teased. “I knew I’d learn some things from you, you know, since we’re roomies but I hadn’t ever thought I’d learn that you knitted.”

“We’re not roomies,” Draco grumbled but she was too delighted to hear his words.

His body suddenly felt hot; though he wasn’t sure if it was from the sun beaming down on them, the warmth of her hand on his arm, or the fact that Ginny was positively glowing as she laughed. He didn’t like it. But Ginny let go of him a second later to brush her hair from her face and a cloud covered the sun briefly and she stopped laughing—he felt better right away, able to tear his eyes away from her and look out at what was going on at the tiny pitch.

The Lupin boy was wobbling dangerously on his broom, the tips of his feet brushing the ground. He looked like he was too afraid to go higher up, like the rest of the children were. Interesting. Was this his first time on a broom? Hadn’t he done the league before? Draco had never played in the little league when he was young but Crabbe had and Draco was quite sure that children normally started when they were about six. Shouldn’t the boy have had two seasons already then?

“He seems nervous.”

Draco nodded, not surprised that Ginny had picked up on the same thing he had. She was his equal in regards to anything Quidditch and was brilliant on the broom. Of course she would have her eye on the child’s technique.

“Can I put in a request? A scarf, for the fall coming up? Purple, maybe?”

Annoyed, Draco picked up his chair and moved away from her. The bright smile on her lips couldn’t be ignored, twisting his stomach in some odd way that he didn’t want to think about.

Teddy was quiet when practice was over, walking up to Draco and Ginny slowly. But when Ginny bent down and nudged him with her pointer finger a smile broke out across his face. Ginny insisted on going out to celebrate Teddy’s first practice.

“Especially since you didn’t fall off the broom and break your nose or anything,” she proclaimed excitedly. “And you can write your granny after to tell her all about it!”

Her words brought Teddy to life. The whole dinner he talked about Bludgers and Snitches and Quaffles and did he really do okay? The boy took up plenty of time asking Ginny repeatedly about moves he could try next practice (none of which he could actually manage but she indulged him anyway). It was probably an accident but the child also smiled at Draco for the first time when Draco added to the conversation that all the children were horrible at practice and Teddy was hardly the worst.

The smile surprised Draco so much that he missed Ginny’s reaction to his words; the softening of her eyes, the way her teeth bit her bottom lip softly as she looked over at him.

)*(*)*(

“Get. A. Grip.”

Ginny repeated the three words to herself at least three more times as she stared hard in the mirror. But it didn’t matter how many times Ginny told it to herself. She still felt herself unraveling. It had been three days with Draco and Teddy, three days of doing absolutely nothing. It should’ve been easy for her to keep herself collected as Draco destroyed her at chess or complained about the sun being too hot or noted lightly that the boy smelled and needed a bath with a pointed look in her direction.

But it wasn’t.

Merlin help her, she rather enjoyed that Draco’s odd quirks she’d witness during their time together for the Tornados also showed up continually in his time away from the team. He was a wanker and pushed her buttons and this wasn’t how she had meant to spend her past few days but… but he also was getting along better with Teddy than he had been a few days ago. He still made her laugh, even at the strangest moments. And he seemed to enjoy her company too.

It was almost too easy to see this as something she could do every day with Draco; going to the café for coffee, sitting in the park under the warm sun, playing chess in the drawing room, eating dinner at local spots, falling asleep beside each other.

This was all making her go mad. But, particularly, the fact that the days filled with Draco ended with her snuggling into his covers, him saying one last snide comment before falling asleep, was almost too much. He hadn’t even thought twice about her sleeping in his bed with him. She still couldn’t get over it. And, even more, Draco hadn’t pushed her to sleep in the other room at all. Though, to be honest, she would’ve killed him if he did.

Instead of finding something to dislike about him she found herself finding more and more things to enjoy. Like the fact that he always pulled out the chair for her, moving so automatically that it was obvious he had been taught to do so when he was younger. Like the fact that he always had the Daily Prophet ready for her when she woke up. Like the fact that he had begun checking on Teddy first thing in the morning, ever since she admonished him over it the first morning.

It was small, stupid things that made her stomach squeeze and skin tingle and made warmth pool low in her belly. And she couldn’t make it stop.

“Get a grip,” she repeated, leaning her forehead against the mirror and closing her eyes.

“What are you doing?”

Ginny jumped and spun around. Draco stood in the doorway of the bathroom, cautious.

“You better wipe that smudge off the mirror,” he told her.

Then he lifted his hands, smirking. He held a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other.

“Figured we should celebrate too,” Draco said. “Since the brat fell asleep before nine.”

Ginny rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing.

“Stop calling him that.”

“I don’t say it to his face,” he promised. “Only to you.”

“Well, I don’t like it either.”

She walked up and grabbed the wine bottle from his hands, turning it over to examine it. Ginny didn’t drink wine often, enjoying beer far more, so she couldn’t tell if it was a good bottle or not. But she was sure it was expensive and would be delicious, especially if it was something of Draco’s.

“Been holding out on me?” Ginny asked.

Her earlier turmoil was gone in face of her problem. Draco smiled, taking the bottle back from her. Together they left the bathroom and entered his room. Teddy had fallen asleep a while ago; one minute he had been jumping up and down on a chair, much to Draco’s displeasure, and the next he was conked out half in his fort. It was earlier than the other nights, giving Draco and Ginny some time before exhaustion claimed them also.

Ginny sat on his bed and moved over so her back was against the wall. Crossing her legs, she watched as Draco waved his wand and the wine uncorked itself before filling the glasses up generously. He handed her one before stretching out on the bed also.

Draco leaned his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. For a moment, they remained still. Her knees were pressing into the side of his left leg, her back against the wall, his eyes closed as he balanced his glass on his other leg. Then he blinked and lifted his glass.

“To the best wine you’ll likely ever have,” he told her, flashing his teeth as he smiled.

Ginny pursed her lips to hide her amusement.

“To surviving four days with a child,” she responded lightly. “A feat no one thought possible of you.”

He laughed deep in his chest. Taking a sip of the wine, Ginny relaxed. It was good, of course. Bastard. The taste was rich and deep, somewhat heavy as it settled in her stomach. But the wine brought warmth to her skin and she found herself taking another sip without realizing.

It was easy to fall into conversation with Draco. The wine helped too, of course. By the time they were finished the bottle, Ginny felt delightfully carefree. Her blood was buzzing and her body was relaxed. Instead of continuing to lean against the wall, she was hugging a pillow to her body, laying parallel to Draco, staring up at him as he spoke about their past Quidditch season.

Really, would it be too much to ask his face to not be so bloody perfect? Maybe a crooked nose? Or one tooth slightly out of place? At the thought, Ginny ran her tongue over her own teeth. Her teeth weren’t flawless. Why did he get to have everything? It would make this all much easier if he was ugly. But, no, of course not. Nothing easy came to Ginny. Her eyes trailed over the sharp line of his jaw, then his plump bottom lip, before looking into his eyes.

And… he was staring at her expectantly.

Ginny jumped, tipping her wine glass dangerously.

“What?” she asked loudly.

Draco’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What were you just thinking about?” he questioned slowly.

Letting out an obnoxious laugh, Ginny pushed her hair from her face and forced a bright grin on her face.

“I’m drunk.”

“No, you’re not, Weasley,” Draco drawled. “I’ve seen you drunk before.”

His eyes roamed her face, searching for something, before dismissing her oddness.

“I asked why you’re still with the Tornados?”

“I’m loyal to a fault,” she quipped, shrugging.

Draco looked about ready to roll his eyes.

“No, Weasley. Look, I—” He cleared his throat. “You’re not a bad Chaser.”

“Thanks,” she responded dryly.

Listen,” Draco snapped. “It’s just… you could get picked up by any team. And you know that, don’t you?”

Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at him. Maybe it was the wine. That was what was making him say this. Because Draco had never, ever praised Ginny in her life. Ever.

“Is it possible?”

“What?”

“That Draco Malfoy actually knows how to compliment someone?”

She burst out in giggles as Draco let out a loud sigh. But he looked like he was fighting a smile and Ginny leaned close, looking up at him.

“I’m making an observation,” he informed her.

“A kind observation. About me.”

“Yes. Now answer the question.”

Ginny subdued her laughter and leaned back from him. His eyes followed her movements but she ignored it, instead taking the time to stare up at his ceiling. The Tutshill Tornados were horrible. They had been since Ginny joined the team. She knew there was no correlation between these facts because, well, Ginny was really good at Quidditch. There was simply so much bad luck and bad management over the last few seasons that the team hadn’t ever been given a real chance.

The answer, the truth, begged to be told though. She hadn’t ever told anyone why she joined the Tornados, despite many wary questions from her brothers of why she’d stay with such a horrible team. But… she wanted to tell Draco.

She continued staring up at the ceiling as she spoke.

“When I graduated and expressed plans to start playing Quidditch professionally, almost every team gave me an offer. But it wasn’t because they wanted me to play. It was because… I had been with Harry. He’s a hero to everyone, you know? And every team wanted to be associated with him, in any way possible. None of the teams had even asked me to tryout.” A dry laugh escaped her lips but she swallowed it back after a second. “The Tornados didn’t offer me a position. They were the only team who hadn’t. So… I knew if I could get a spot on their team it was because they wanted me, not Harry. They made me work for it. I tried out half a dozen times.”

Silence followed her admission. After a long moment, she looked over at him, almost fearful of his reaction. Ginny never brought up Harry to Draco. That had been one of the things that bonded them initially, the fact that neither of them wanted to discuss the Chosen One. But here she laid out her shameful truth, involving the man Draco had always despised.

Draco’s face was blank but his fingers tapped the stem of his glass to a beat Ginny didn’t know. Heat colored her cheeks and she cleared her throat awkwardly, sitting up and making a show of stretching.

“Anyway, I’m tired,” she lied. “Might turn in—”

She lifted up the covers and shimmied under them. Groaning internally at how stupid she was, Ginny turned away from him and hoped the awkwardness would simply disappear.

“No team had wanted me.”

His words stilled her. Ginny looked over her shoulder at him but his eyes were diverted as hers had been when she spoke.

“To be linked to a Malfoy, to a former Death Eater, was taboo. Especially so soon after the war.” Draco’s voice was low, his words soft. “Nobody wanted to deal with the negative publicity of it. I simply hadn’t been worth it.”

Wondering what she could possibly say, Ginny turned to face him completely. He seemed lost in his thoughts. Draco glanced over at her, his lips tugged down in a frown.

“After a month of reaching out to different teams, inquiring after their Seeker position, even if it was only a reserve, the one team that had responded to me had been the Tornados. They made me tryout so many times I lost count. I knew they didn’t want me but… they offered me the position.”

“That’s why you haven’t left yet.”

“No one would have me,” he responded lightly. “And how do you leave when they’re the only one who gave you a chance?”

His words felt loaded, his eyes sharp as he held her gaze. Ginny wasn’t sure if there was more meaning to what he was saying. This bloody wine was twisting her thoughts.

Shaking her head, Ginny reached out and wrapped her small hand around his wrist.

“I’m happy you’ve stayed,” she told him.

“I am too.”

~.*.~.*.~.*.~.*.~

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