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

It was a disturbance to their normal routine when Ginny took longer than normal to leave the bedroom Friday morning. Usually by now the unlikely trio would be heading down to the café to grab something to eat or Ginny would offer to put together a quick breakfast before coming up with some ridiculous way to spend their day. He’d be concerned, he supposed, if he couldn’t hear her moving about in his room.

But when it was beginning to take an obnoxious amount of time, Draco made some toast for him and the kid in order to delay barging in on her. He thought it rather considerate of him not to go in and bother her. After all, he owed her, didn’t he? She had given him no complaints about their arrangement and it had been almost a week since he ended up at her doorstep, asking her for help. He would wait a little bit longer, give her some more time to herself, before he burst into his room and demanded she hurry the hell up. With that in mind, Draco was left watching with very little interest as Teddy gave each of Draco’s chess pieces a new name. He rather hoped none of the pieces took to these new names, for Sir Tinker and Madam Pretty Prat were not something he wanted to utter to get the pieces to do his bidding.

It was five minutes later that she came out dressed, her hair braided properly, wisps of red curls framing her face in a way that drew Draco’s eyes. Something was off. Usually Ginny had her hair thrown up into a ponytail with little thought, sporting a wrinkled shirt and old pair of shorts. This was certainly different. Something was going on.

The cup of tea he had raised to his lips lingered in midair as he eyed her.

“Plans today?” he slowly asked.

He ignored the urge to frown as he looked her over. There was even more speed to her steps. What could she possibly be in such a rush for? And… was that her bag thrown over her shoulder? What the bloody hell?

With no hesitation, she reached over and snagged a piece of toast from his plate. An insult danced on his tongue but he held back—even if he had already put jam on that piece just the way he liked it. Thief.

“Meeting up with Mum,” Ginny answered, mouth full of bread.

He scrunched his nose and leaned back in his seat, afraid crumbs would spray at him as she spoke. Ginny noticed and rolled her eyes.

“Am I going?”

Teddy must’ve heard what she said for he dropped the chess pieces in his hands, causing them all to scream and shout angrily at him. He looked extremely excited to go to the Weasley den. Ginny gave him a sad smile and shook her head.

“Afraid not, Teddy.” Ginny walked over to him and ruffled his hair. “It will be just you and Draco today.”

The Lupin child glanced around Ginny, his eyes surveying Draco in slight surprise. When Ginny headed back towards Draco, he wondered if his face was lit up with the same shock the child had shown, for her lips pursed in amusement.

“I told you Friday was when I’d go to see my mum. Remember?”

He did remember that she had given him that warning when he first asked her for help with the boy. But he hadn’t thought she’d actually leave him once she saw how utterly hopeless he was with children. Apparently, she had not an ounce of sympathy in her bones.

“You’re leaving now?” Draco questioned, his stomach sinking. “All day?”

She didn’t seem worried about responding. Instead she had opened her bag, rummaging through it, before nodding to herself.

“Weasley. Weasley?” There was a quiet note of desperation in his voice as the realization of what was happening washed over him.

Their week was up. Ginny was going back to her normal life. From now on, it was just him and the boy. It must’ve been apparent to her that he wouldn’t kill Teddy, whether on purpose or by accident, for she didn't seem worried over the prospect of leaving.

When Ginny looked at him, waiting for him to say something, his mouth became dry. What he really wanted to say—what the hell am I supposed to do with this child for the next two months—seemed lodged in his throat. Instead he ran a hand over his face, fighting back a groan.

“What are you even going to do all day?”

That was certainly not what he had wanted to ask. But, when she grinned at him, he found he was rather curious for her answer. Shifting the bag from one shoulder to the other, she leaned against the table.

“Dinner with my family. I’m thinking about doing lunch with some friends too, you know,” Ginny paused. “Sleep in my own bed. Put on something somewhat clean. Go flying.”

Draco wanted to tease her, really, she made it too easy sometimes, but he couldn’t. She was leaving. Eyebrows furrowing, he tried to think of what to say. Thank you? Please don’t leave? This is a death sentence without you? Ginny didn’t need him to respond, however. Walking up to Teddy, she pressed a kiss to his forehead that he tried to dodge before promising to see him soon. Then she walked up to Draco, winking at him, and wished him luck.

“Malfoy, you’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Teddy won’t let anything horrible happen to you. Right, Teddy?”

“Nothing too horrible,” the boy’s sickly-sweet voice agreed.

Draco wasn’t going to make it.

But, surprisingly, after having set up a routine over the past week it hadn’t been too hard to figure out what to do with Teddy, at least initially. Once Ginny left through his Floo, going back to her flat, Draco and Teddy headed out to their favorite café to get a pastry. They sat together at a small table outside the shop, watching the people who passed by in relative silence. Teddy didn’t seem too bothered; his feet were swinging happily as he hummed lightly, munching on his food.

They could do the park all day. But without someone there to entertain him, Draco worried he’d get bored watching Teddy play with other children. They could go back and play chess or Gobstones. But it was still so incredibly early that they’d tire of that quickly. He wondered endlessly about what to do with the boy until he was forced to make a decision, as their breakfast was done.

When Teddy looked up at him, his hair still ginger like Ginny’s, Draco recalled what she said she planned on doing with her day. And, just like that, he had an idea. It didn’t take much to get Teddy to listen to Draco when they went back to his flat, packed up his two bags, grabbed his little league broom, and headed to the one place Draco hadn’t been too interested in going a week ago.

Malfoy Manor.

His mother had set up the Floo system so that he and Teddy could arrive easily, since Draco didn’t fancy Apparating with the boy and the flight on broom would take too long. When they arrived, Draco holding the little boy’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t decide to exit early, a house-elf was waiting for them. Ladbey, who had been with the Malfoy family for ages, bowed excitedly.

“Madam says you was coming with the child, Master Draco,” Ladbey said swiftly. “I was expecting you days ago. It is a good sight, a very good sight, to see you home.”

Draco took in the house-elf, the familiar kind face, the anxious twist of his hands, the sharp white of his tea-towel, and was surprised to find himself smiling back. Then he looked around the drawing room, which was barely ever used anymore; it was simply there to impress anyone who was high up enough to be allowed access to Malfoy Manor via Floo. It had high ceilings, a large table that sat at least a dozen people, and an exquisite mirror with a scrolled frame on top.

After the war, when Draco had first come home, he hadn’t been able to enter the drawing room for months. How many times had the Dark Lord sat at the head of the table as if he owned the manor? How many schemes were drawn up here, plots to murder and rob and harm people? How many lives were lost in this room?

It had taken almost two years for Draco to see the room and remember that not only horrible things had happened here. He had sat at his father’s side many times during dinner when he was young, laughing as his father recounted his day, Lucius barely containing a smile. His mother had read to him by the fireplace, the very one he only now stepped out of, her words short and clipped, her eyes soft and watchful. And he could remember his nanny allowing him an extra piece of pie when his parents weren’t home, her touch warm as she pushed his hair from his face.

Malfoy Manor had witnessed dark, terrible things in its past. But it had also been his comfort, his refuge, as he grew up. And Draco refused to forget that.

“I’m happy to be here,” Draco replied finally, taking a deep breath. “Ladbey, this is Teddy Lupin. He’ll be our guest here.”

“Yes, oh yes, of course. Mister Lupin, yous is most welcome here.”

Ladbey had always been excitable and friendly, something Draco’s parents had despised when they were going for a more sophisticated appearance. Now, though, his mother clearly enjoyed the attention the house-elf gave her or else he’d still be locked down in the kitchens.

“Mister Lupin?” Teddy repeated gleefully. “Did you hear him call me that?”

Tossing Teddy’s bags onto one of the chairs by the hearth, Draco lifted the boy’s broom to eye level.

“How do you feel about practicing some flying?” Draco asked.

Draco worried Teddy would say no, that he’d hear the slight caution in Draco’s voice and deny him. But Teddy’s eyes lit up and he barely contained his eager cry as he took his broom from Draco’s hands and asked where they’d be flying.

)*(*)*(

“Well, you’re certainly not a natural, like bloody Potter,” Draco said, tapping his fingers against the wall as he studied the little boy.

He hated admitting it out loud but it was true. Potter was a natural on a broom, had been since his first flying lesson at Hogwarts, and there was nothing Draco could do about it. No matter how many days he spent in the sun, exhausted and sweating from running the same maneuvers over and over, it didn’t matter. Draco could read the same books, get the same advice, go to multiple coaches, make his team practice for hours on end but it didn’t matter—Potter was a better flyer and Draco would never beat him in Quidditch.

It had been a hard truth to accept.

But it was clear that it was an even harsher reality for the boy. He hadn’t meant to sound cruel when he said it but there were not many things Draco said kindly. This was the third time he had seen Teddy on a broom, wobbling and clenching the handle too tightly, barely able to lift his eyes from the ground in fear of falling. The first practice Draco had put it down to his nerves at having to play with a group of children.

Teddy’s practice the night before proved that it wasn’t just nerves, though. The boy barely kept himself up, his long legs stretched so that the tip of his toes remained on the ground, to help him if he fell. Even now, after having taken him outside in a nice shaded spot, where there were no children or anyone else’s gaze except for Draco’s, Teddy still had trouble balancing.

Focusing on the boy, he saw that the child was scuffing his shoe in the dirt, his lower lip poked out. He looked immensely upset over what Draco had said. An odd feeling settled low in Draco’s stomach at the realization. Draco hadn’t meant to upset Teddy. It was simply the truth that Draco had spoken. It was better for him to learn the truth now than to keep looking up to Potter like he was someone that Teddy could grow up to be. Truth be told, Teddy was rather like Draco when it came to flying; he wasn’t a natural but with some hard work he could be something.

But Teddy likely wouldn’t respond to what Draco was about to say as well as he wished he would. As if she was standing right beside him, whispering in his ear, Draco could hear Ginny’s voice.

Talk to him like you wish someone would’ve talked to you, you giant git.

“Look,” Draco called, hesitant.

Teddy glanced up at him, his eyes a remarkably deep blue as he fought his sadness.

“Look, okay,” he tried again, clearing his throat. “You’re not a natural. That’s the truth, it simply is. Potter—”

“Harry?” Teddy interrupted, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, gritting his teeth. “Harry.

Teddy ignored his tone, instead watching him curiously. Draco lost track of where he was going with the conversation and started over.

“I’m not a natural either,” Draco muttered. “But you don’t have to be a natural to be good. You just have to work for it. Potter hasn’t worked for anything in his life. And you’re going to have to, whether you like it or not.”

Running his left hand along the broom, Draco stared hard at it before glancing back at the child. Teddy seemed to deflate even more, his bottom lip more pronounced.

“He can’t teach you how to fly a broom properly because it came to him too easily. But I can. I had to learn. I know brooms. I know how to steer them with the slightest touch, I know what to do if they don’t listen like they should. And I can show you.”

Teddy’s head snapped towards Draco.

“You can?”

“Yes. But you have to trust me.”

The idea of trusting Draco clearly made Teddy uneasy. His features darkened and he was kicking at the dirt again with the tip of his shoes, making odd markings in the ground. Watching this display of uncertainty made Draco’s stomach twist. Was it really that hard for Teddy, a child, to look at Draco and trust him? He supposed he hadn’t given the boy many reasons to.

Draco let out a low breath, guilt burning through him as the boy contemplated his words. He wasn’t sure what to say to try to help him decide to give Draco the benefit of the doubt. Growing up, Crabbe and Goyle had been forced to trust Draco, based off their fathers’ histories together. Then, after Hogwarts, all the former Slytherins banded together to help each other out in a world that wasn’t as appealing to them as it had been before.

It had been for survival, trusting each other. Nothing more, nothing less.

But then Draco had made the choice to play Quidditch instead of following his father’s footsteps in the Ministry. After so many years of torture and heartache, he figured it was time he did something for himself and not for the Malfoy name.

Getting his team to trust him, getting Ginny to trust him, was the first time he had truly worked at a relationship with someone else. Slytherins automatically looked at each other as equals in most aspects. But Gryffindors and Slytherins did not view each other that way. Weasleys and Malfoys did not view each other that way.

Building a relationship with Ginny was one of the hardest things he had ever done. And the most rewarding, by far. Because who was he able to go to in the middle of the night, knowing she’d accept him into her home with only a few hissed words and worry in her eyes, no matter the circumstances?

The realization left Draco feeling strange, a tightness in his chest he couldn’t identify. He trusted Ginny more than he trusted most of his friends, who had been by his side for over a decade. Before he could think on it further, Teddy spoke.

“Are you going to push me off the broom?”

“No.”

“Or leave me out here?”

“No.”

“Or, or, are you going to let me fly away into the sky and not come and get me?”

“Your broom doesn’t go further off the ground than here,” Draco reminded him dryly, pointing to his waist.

“Then, yeah, I guess I trust you.”

Draco sighed.

“Thanks.”

They stared at each other silently, appraising each other, before Draco inclined his head back towards the manor.

“Let’s grab something to eat and come back out here. I’ll have to get one of my old brooms anyway in order to teach you what I want to.”

)*(*)*(

It had been three days since Ginny left Draco’s flat. Three days since she watched the panic enter his eyes at the realization that she was leaving. Three days since she had tried to seem collected and fine as she said her goodbyes.

Because, honestly, she hadn’t been sure she was ready to leave.

But it had been time; that startling fact became clear after the night they had shared a bottle of wine on his bed. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t easy but there was no way Ginny could continue spending every waking moment with Draco and not go absolutely mad. Anyway, he had a better grip on the situation than he realized. If anything, her leaving could help Draco and Teddy’s relationship grow.

“Anyone in there?”

Ginny blinked and look around. Everyone was staring at her. Face heating, she sighed.

“Sorry, sorry. Lost in my thoughts.”

“Yeah, I see that,” Neville responded, amused. “What were you thinking about?”

Hermione let out a sound of amusement, rocking in her chair as she thumbed through some memos she had brought home from the Ministry.

“Who, is more like it.”

“Hermione!” Ginny snapped.

Hermione didn’t look too guilty as she shrugged. Neville paused, his hands deep in the moist dirt of his garden. Luna hadn’t noticed that Neville had stopped digging; her head continued bobbing to a silent song and her wand was directing the flowers that Neville wanted to plant in a line towards him.

Several lilies knocked the side of Neville’s head as he stared up at Ginny.

“Who? You fancy someone, then, Gin?” Neville asked, swiping at the plant hitting the side of his face affectionately. “Is it who I think it is?”

“And who is that?”

There was a growl in her voice when she spoke and she had to take a deep breath to contain her anger. She continued digging her hole, perhaps a bit more intensely than she had been before. Ginny glared at Hermione.

“Spreading rumors, hmm?” she asked her sister-in-law.

Hermione held up her hands.

“I never told him. He already knew.”

“Already knew what?”

“That you fancy Malfoy, is all. It’s really not too—ow, Luna, can you stop this plant from hitting me? Thanks. Anyway, Gin, it’s not too horrible.” He paused thoughtfully. “Well, it’s a little horrible. But I’ve known for ages.”

“How?” Ginny shrieked, horrified.

If Neville knew then who else knew? Ginny had only ever talked to Hermione and Luna about her feelings for Draco but Hermione had promised she wouldn’t tell and Luna would never…

Ginny turned her glare to Luna, who was still dancing in her spot, feet stretched out in front of her, toes in the dirt.

“Luna. You didn’t tell Neville anything about Draco, did you?”

Neville visibly shuddered at his former school mate’s name.

“I hadn’t known I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,” Luna responded dreamily.

Ginny dropped the small shovel she held in horror.

“You’ve told more people? Luna, you can’t be serious. Please, please, tell me, who else have you told?”

“Oh, no one else, only Neville.” Luna’s large, protruding eyes met hers. “He’s your best friend. I had thought he’d already know.”

Sagging in relief, Ginny looked at Neville. His chubby face was glowing from the sun and he gave her a small, kind smile. Ginny reached out to touch his arm.

“I hadn’t meant to keep it a secret from you,” she told him earnestly.

“I understand why you did,” he replied. “I’m not mad, honest. But I hadn’t realized you still liked him. Your Quidditch season is done, isn’t it? Do you miss him much or something?”

Hermione let out a quiet snort.

“She only misses him since she was living with him the last week.”

Ginny grabbed some dirt and flung it at Hermione. The older witch let out a cry of surprise before grinning.

“I hadn’t realized you took such pleasure in torturing me,” Ginny fumed.

“There’s not many other things to do. The Ministry won’t let me work as much anymore.”

Her hands ran over her swollen belly.

“Understandably,” Hermione added.

“Yes, well, if you were working we wouldn’t be able to plant these,” Luna said. “We haven’t hung out in a long while, have we?”

The group had formed when Hermione was pregnant with Rose. Bored and kept from work, Hermione had been driving Ginny insane, coming over her flat unannounced with books and questions and research ideas. Ron expressed concern that Hermione was going to have a mental breakdown if they didn’t do something. So, on a whim, Ginny had invited Hermione to Neville’s garden, where she, Luna, and Neville spent time.

Usually they lounged around outside, enjoying the weather. If it was too cold or rainy, they’d sit on his porch and read or talk. And, if the season was right, they would garden together. Neville taught at Hogwarts but lived in Hogsmeade, allowing them access to his house on the weekends during the school term. With it being summer, however, Neville had invited them over on a Monday. Between the four of them, they had all begun growing separate bulbs in their homes months ago. Now they finally had time to meet up and properly plant them in Neville’s garden.

“You’ve been living with Malfoy?” asked Neville, who had resumed planting the flowers.

Ginny gave an awkward shrug.

“Not living, just… helping. He’s watching Teddy for the summer so I figured I’d make sure he didn’t murder him.”

“Teddy? Teddy Lupin?” At her and Hermione’s nod, Neville’s eyebrows furrowed. “I thought Harry had him.”

“On Saturday, yes, but he dropped him off at Draco’s yesterday,” Hermione said. “Harry went to Teddy’s little league game, which he said wasn’t really a game as much as the children just chasing each other on brooms, and picked him up.”

It took all she had not to ask any more questions but, when she looked up and met Hermione’s gaze, she saw a knowing look in her friend’s eyes. Taking mercy on her, Hermione answered the question she couldn’t ask.

“Harry said he saw Malfoy for only a second on Saturday. Apparently, Harry was a bit upset that Teddy couldn’t stop talking about how Draco had taught him to fly better on the broom.”

“He feels replaced,” Luna mused.

“If Harry wasn’t helping out Kingsley, he would’ve loved to watch Teddy for the summer. I think he feels it’s a lost opportunity,” Hermione told them. “When Harry dropped Teddy off at Draco’s last night, Harry said Draco slammed the door in his face. He was not amused.”

Ginny couldn’t help the tug of the smile on her lips. She could only imagine what that had been like for Draco, being forced to see Harry again after being spared the sight of him for so long.

“Are you going to go back? Ginny?”

“Go back where?” Ginny asked, focusing on Luna.

“To Draco’s? Don’t you think he misses you?”

A reluctant laugh forced its way out of her mouth. Draco didn’t miss her. If he missed her, wouldn’t he have reached out to her? Asked her to come back? Wouldn’t he have come over to her flat again, Teddy in tow, asking to come in?

“I think…” she began slowly. “That Draco has probably realized he can handle Teddy just fine. He had been really, really awkward at first but by Friday he had seemed okay. I—it’s just—I was there to help. That’s it.”

The three of her friends were all staring at her, different expressions on their faces. It was clear Hermione’s mind was whirling, figuring out an equation that Ginny hadn’t realized she presented. Luna was smiling, strands of her light hair blowing in her face from the breeze. But Neville was frowning severely, looking torn between comforting her or fighting with her.

“You can’t be serious,” Neville finally said.

Her eyebrows rose in question.

“That Malfoy doesn’t care for you.”

“Well, I’m sure he cares for her. They are friends, after all, Neville, even he’s admitted that,” Hermione reminded him.

“Yeah, but, I mean, Ginny, any person would be lucky to have you. He’s an idiot if he doesn’t realize you like him.”

“I won’t deny that he’s an idiot sometimes,” Ginny said dryly, earning a smile from Neville. “But it’s not like I’ve told him I like him. If anything, I’m trying to make sure he doesn’t know, really. And, besides, if I was still staying with him I wouldn’t be able to hang out with you guys now, or watch Rose on Wednesday, or do my laundry and sit by myself for more than two minutes with no interruption...”

“Speaking of… Rose’s probably up from her nap,” Hermione realized, sighing as she started to push herself out of the rocking chair.

Luna jumped to her feet.

“I’ll grab Rosie,” Luna announced, placing a gentle handle on Hermione’s shoulder to keep her seated. “You three keep talking about Draco Malfoy.”

“No, we’re done,” Ginny told her firmly.

“You’ve lived with him for a week, though, Gin. You need to tell me what happened.”

Pressing her lips together, Ginny eyed Neville, who seemed sincere enough, and Hermione, who seemed relieved to not have to get up. Over the last two days, Hermione had heard bits and pieces of what her week with Draco had been like, but they were generally hurried whispers exchanged between the two women before Ron or Molly walked into the room. And Ginny would love to properly discuss what had happened with someone—who better than her best friends?

Nodding slightly, Ginny began at her last Quidditch practice with Draco and the Tornados.

)*(*)*(

It had been after a week of sleeping at Draco’s flat, one night at Potter’s, and four nights at Malfoy Manor that Teddy seemed to finally realize that Andromeda wasn’t coming home any time soon. Draco had watched the transformation happen right before his eyes. One second, Teddy was rambling happily about Quidditch and some of the things Draco had taught him and how much better practice had been yesterday and how his granny promised to take him to a game if he was good all summer and the next second his hair had darkened, as had his eyes, and one lone tear slid down his cheek.

“I miss Granny.”

As much as Draco found his aunt annoying, he couldn’t help but sympathize with the boy. After all, he had been essentially placed with a stranger who he happened to be related to and told to sit tight and behave. Andromeda had been writing Teddy every day, though, her owl arriving right on time no matter what. And, worst off, if they didn’t get to writing her back right away the owl would flap its wings loudly, spreading feathers everywhere, even though it was supposed to be resting for its trip back. Teddy also told Draco that, on Saturday with Potter, he had seen his granny through the Floo, her face smiling at him from the flames.

But it wasn’t enough. She was countries away and Teddy was left with his first cousin, once removed.

“Can I call her?” he asked Draco.

Draco blinked down at him.

“Call her what?”

“On a phone.”

“A what?”

Teddy let out a loud sigh.

“Is it a muggle thing?” Draco questioned curiously, his lips turning down in thought. “Sounds like a muggle thing.”

He had forgotten that Andromeda had been married to a Muggle.

“Yeah, it’s, like, a phone that you put in your purse and you can send people messages, like an owl, but it’s faster. I even know her number by heart, she made me remember, just in case, she said.”

Teddy began reciting random numbers out loud, as though they meant something. Draco stared at him hard. What was he doing? Was that him calling her? Just talking out loud? And how was this muggle thing faster than an owl? It made no sense.

“Do you have one of those things then?”

“A phone? No, granny says I’m too young still and I need to play outside. You don’t have one, Draco?”

It was odd, hearing Teddy call Draco by his first name. Ever since Ginny had left them on Friday, the pair had been forced to get to know each other. And once Draco began teaching Teddy some better maneuvers on the broom, the young child had become much friendlier with Draco; calling him by his first name, greeting him with a smile, talking to him nonstop, telling him absolutely every thought in his head.

The whole thing was weird and both amused Draco and made him wary. What would Pansy and Flint say now if they were to see the good terms he was on with the boy? He had a feeling they’d be more alarmed than anything else. After all, from the last letter she had sent him, Flint and Pansy seemed to think his lack of communication with them meant the whole thing was going horribly.

And what would Ginny think, if she could see the two of them now?

He had thought of Ginny often over the last few days, at random times when she should not be on his mind at all. When Teddy had successfully remained balanced on the broom, no longer fearfully looking at the ground, Draco had immediately thought to write to Ginny about it. But why would he do that? She was with her family or relaxing—it would only be bothersome for her to receive an owl in the middle of it, after having left them that morning.

When he had been forced in the company of Saint Potter, he had heard her voice in his head right away, confessing to him that the only reason she had joined the Tornados and stayed with them was because they hired her not because of her relationship with Potter but because of her talent. And, though he hardly wanted to think on it, he had found himself waking up several times in the night since her absence. There was no reason for him to waken, no sound that startled him from his dreams, no bedmate hitting him accidentally in her sleep… and perhaps that was the issue.

Draco didn’t want to think he had become accustomed to Ginny staying at his flat so he didn’t.

“I don’t have any of those phones,” Draco told Teddy, coming back from his thoughts. “Where can we get one?”

Teddy shrugged.

Once again, without warning, Draco thought of Ginny. He remembered sitting in her flat, the light of her kitchen bright, the teacup warming his hands as he stared down at her. Draco could remember staring at the different colors of her hair—it wasn’t simply ginger, no, there was dark red and light orange and gold, if that was possible—as she contemplated helping him. Then she had looked up and agreed to come stay with him.

Hadn’t her flat seemed very muggle? He wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what one of those phone things were. Maybe she even had one.

Draco didn’t hesitate, the plan already formed.

“Let’s send Ginny an owl, shall we? You can write this one.”

Teddy hopped to his feet, no questions asked.

It was an hour and a half later that Draco and Teddy ended up Flooing to a random address. Teddy clutched Draco’s sleeve with his hands until they finally stepped out of the hearth. Warily, the pair stepped into the room. It was a small, tidy area with several couches, a whole wall of shelves (filled to the brim with books), and a black mirror held up on a table. Draco eyed the black mirror hesitantly, his grip on Teddy’s shoulder tightening, but the boy shook him off without a care and ran to it.

“A telly!” he cried out excitedly.

“Where are we, exactly?” Draco wondered out loud.

“Ron and Hermione’s,” Teddy told him distractedly, picking something off the table and pointing it at the black mirror.

The black mirror instantly came to life, startling Draco. He stumbled back, hitting the mantel of the fireplace, and stared as images of people appeared. What the bloody hell? He forced his eyes away from the thing, the telly, and looked to Teddy. Unconcerned with Draco, Teddy was now seated on the couch, his full attention on the random people on the black mirror.

Wait. Had he said they were at Weasley and Granger’s house?

Draco glanced away from the boy and went to look around again. His eyes fell on the small woman standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and eyes dancing. How long had she been there?

“Ginny,” Draco called.

A rush of something hit Draco then, forcing away his unease and bringing a grin to his face.

“Hello, Teddy.” She walked over to Teddy, ruffling his hair. The boy didn’t look up. “Hello, Draco.”

Ginny approached Draco, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Brushing nonexistent soot off his cloak, Draco nodded towards the black mirror.

“What is that?”

“Hmm? Oh, that? A telly.” At his blank look, she laughed. “A television. It’s a muggle thing that, er, shows films and cartoons and stuff.”

It was clearly hard for her to describe what this television thing was, for she was waving her arms around as she struggled with the task. Amusement flitted through Draco at the sight. It wasn’t often that he saw Ginny try to figure out what to say; normally she said whatever was on her mind without hesitation, as Teddy often did.

“I don’t understand,” he admitted.

She laughed.

“That’s okay. Maybe one day…” Ginny paused, an emotion Draco wasn’t sure of crossing her face, before smiling brighter. “Anyway, you need a phone? Teddy, you want to call your granny?”

Teddy turned around at that, no longer mesmerized by the thing before him. Hopping off the couch, Teddy rushed over to Ginny, wrapping his tiny hands around her arm.

“Yeah, please, do you have one?”

“Likely not. But I do, Teddy.”

A new voice joined the room. Draco looked over to the doorway and saw Hermione bloody Granger standing there, grinning as her eyes met his. She was, well, huge. Or, at least, her stomach was. After having not seen Granger for so long now, barely escaping her when she’d come to watch the Tornados play the past few seasons, Draco felt uncomfortable in her presence. Not just her presence, either. This was Ginny’s moron of a brother’s house too, wasn’t it?

Oh, fuck, was that their child?

With only one eye peeking from behind Granger’s leg, the little girl’s hair was wiry like her mother’s, though her skin was lighter. She was staring at Draco in distrust—apparently it ran in the family. Draco looked away from the child and back at Granger, whose head was tilted as she looked him over with that scrutinizing, pointed look she had worn since Hogwarts. Then she turned her attention back to Teddy, who was now tugging Ginny after him as he walked towards Granger.

“I’m sure Andromeda has an international plan, though it won’t matter much,” Granger told him as she handed him a small device. “Do you know her number?”

Teddy began reciting the numbers he had said back at Malfoy Manor, his voice almost sing-song as he opened the device and began pressing buttons. After a second, Teddy squealed a cry of 'Granny!' before bolting down the corridor, leaving Granger, Ginny, and Draco by themselves. He’d include the menace at Granger’s feet but figured she wouldn’t cause him too much trouble.

“Draco,” Granger called, forcing his attention to her. “I’m surprised you thought to come to me for a telephone.”

“I thought of Ginny,” he drawled. “Not you.”

“Is that so?”

Granger glanced at Ginny, who was looking determinedly around the room and not at Granger or Draco. Draco’s eyes narrowed. What was going on? The moment passed, allowing Draco no time to think on it.

“I doubt I’ll be needing my phone back, I’m only going to work, so leave it here once he’s done and I’ll grab it tonight. Ron is on overnight training with Harry so don’t expect him back anytime soon. I should be home before Rose’s bedtime, okay?”

Ginny nodded, clearly used to Granger’s rambling.

“Going into work so late, Granger?” Draco couldn’t help but prod. “No sense of urgency, is there? I had thought you much more capable at Hogwarts.”

“I’m glad you had such high opinions of me back at school,” she replied lightly. That was not what he had meant. Before he could respond, however, she began talking again, a gleam in her eyes. “The Minister couldn’t meet to discuss the new legislation I’m to propose until later in the day. It’s a set appointment.”

“Going past dinner?”

“It’s called work, Malfoy. Something I’m sure you’ve never—”

“Okay, okay, that was fun,” Ginny said hastily, stepping between them with her arms up. “So much fun. But you’ve got to be going, don’t you, Hermione?”

Granger glared at Draco before forcing herself to look away. She visibly relaxed when Ginny smiled at her. The little girl stepped forward, raising her arms up as though knowing that Granger wanted to say goodbye. Despite being so very pregnant, Granger picked up the child and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Thanks again, Ginny,” she told her before passing the girl to Ginny.

Then Granger grabbed a light traveling cloak from the hangers on the wall beside her, latching it around her neck. She disappeared from sight for a second before returning, holding a bundle of documents in her arms. Walking briskly towards the fireplace, she stopped only when she reached Draco’s side. He looked down in surprise.

“It was good seeing you again, Draco,” Granger said.

In one fluid motion, she took some Floo powder from a jar on the mantel and tossed it into the flames. Then she disappeared, the announced destination still lingering in the air after she vanished.

“What was that about?” Draco inquired slowly, turning back to Ginny with his eyebrows high on his forehead.

She was biting her bottom lip again.

“Pregnancy hormones?”

Down the hall, Draco could hear Teddy excitedly chatting away on the small device Granger had given him.

“I don’t think you’ve met Rose yet, have you?” Draco stared blankly at Ginny and she grinned. “Draco, this is Rose Granger-Weasley. Rosie, this is one of my friends, Draco Malfoy.”

Rose, the hybrid of Granger and Weasley, didn’t blink as she looked at Draco. Her tiny arms were wrapped tightly around Ginny’s neck. She seemed as unimpressed with Draco as he was with her. At least they were on the same page in that aspect.

“Another Weasley,” Draco said dryly. “Pleasure.”

I’m a Weasley,” Ginny reminded him, rolling her eyes.

“But sometimes you don’t seem like it and I find I rather enjoy those moments.”

“Is that so?”

“Indeed.”

“Duly noted.”

She deposited the child on the couch where Teddy had been previously sitting. Rose continued watching Draco. Thankfully Ginny began speaking again, allowing Draco to drop the child’s unwavering gaze.

“How’s it been with Teddy?”

“Fine,” he replied, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that’s good.”

Surprise colored her words.

“We’re rather friendly with each other now. Not quite on the family level yet but friendly level, yes, I’ll give us that.”

Ginny laughed.

“But you are family.”

“Legally, yes,” he allowed.

She grinned at him and that strange feeling washed over him again.

“How have you been?” Draco asked quietly.

For a brief moment, the smile dropped from her face and she stared at him in alarm. Then she took a deep breath and shrugged.

“Oh, I’ve been good.” Ginny paused, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “It’s been much quieter without you and Teddy around.”

“We could trade places, if you’d like.”

Covering her mouth with her hand, she giggled into her palm. Draco’s eyes roamed over her. She looked very pretty today, he mused, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was; her hair was down but messy, her shirt fitting but old and with a tiny hole in it, her arms bared and freckled, her cheeks kissed by the sun.

“Or you could come and stay with us again.”

The words left his mouth without permission. He blinked in surprise, his chest tightening as he wondered why he said that. She had done him a favor by coming to help with Teddy but she had clearly needed to get away. Draco hadn’t been offended or surprised that she hadn’t written to him Monday, asking if he was alright with Teddy on his own. Ginny had pointed out how small his flat was early on and she’d been forced to share a bed with him when she had a perfectly empty one at her own flat. It didn’t make sense for her to want to come back.

But… but he forced his eyes to meet hers as he waited to hear her response. She looked as shocked as he had felt when the words had been spoken. Shaking her head, Ginny let out a strangled laugh, her hand dropping from her face.

“How about you stay for dinner first?” she offered.

“Here? In Granger and Weasley’s house?” he replied, looking around.

“Well, yeah, I’m watching Rose for the next couple hours. I mean, you don’t have to. I’m sure you have plans—”

Rose walked unsteadily on the couch towards Draco suddenly, her hand reaching out. She grasped onto Draco’s sleeve to balance herself, her light eyes staring up at him.

“Hi.”

Draco frowned, wishing he could somehow tug his sleeve from her grip. Teddy was one thing but this… miniature human was completely different. He could break her.

“Hello,” he replied, once his attempt at loosening her grip didn’t work.

He could sense Ginny’s amusement in the background. And, before he knew it, he was agreeing to eat at his former enemies’ house with their child.

)*(*)*(

Draco didn’t want to admit it but he was utterly fascinated by the television. Ginny had been the same way at first, though she hadn’t minded screeching to Hermione how bloody brilliant the thing was. But Draco had far too much pride and refused to acknowledge the large screen in the living room. She saw his eyes wandering towards it every few seconds, though, and made a point to set up some toys for Rose on the floor beside it so that the four of them could stay in the room and he could watch some shows.

As much as Draco was in awe of the television, Rose was in awe of him. Her gaze hadn’t left him once since Draco had first arrived. Ginny couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that spread through her as Rose continually walked over to Draco, grabbing onto his sleeve and gaping up at him. Ron would die on the spot if he could see how his precious daughter looked up at a Malfoy.

She snorted at her thoughts.

“What?” Teddy asked excitedly, glancing away from the telly and over at her. “What’s so funny, Ginny?”

“Nothing, nothing. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Ginny had offered to cook, raiding Ron and Hermione’s cabinets to throw something together for all four of them. It wasn’t very hard; Ron always made sure there was plenty of food in the house and with Hermione pregnant her tastes were so random and strange they had more choices than normal. Leaving Draco to entertain the children, Ginny had stayed in the kitchen the majority of the time. Since there was arch opening that gave her a view of the living room, she found more enjoyment than she probably should have watching the trio before her.

Truth be told, her amusement mostly came from the fact that Draco hadn’t lied to her—Teddy was clearly on much better terms with him; constantly running up to him to talk to him about the shows on the television, laughing and then looking to make sure Draco was pleased too, cuddling up beside him before running back towards the screen.

When the owl had brought a letter from Teddy, asking for a phone to call his granny, Ginny had already been getting ready to head to Hermione’s to babysit. She knew Hermione had a cellphone, that Ron carried one also even though he barely used it (he was still timid after his disastrous attempt at calling Harry the summer before his third year) so she had them head over to Hermione’s to meet her. Ginny hadn’t expected Draco to arrive looking happy to see her. And she certainly hadn’t thought he’d invite her back to his flat, back into his day to day life, back to his bed.

But he had.

And then, when she froze up and spat out the first thing she could think of, he had agreed to stay over for dinner, not insulted by her change of topic.

Perhaps she was stuck in a different dimension, where Draco enjoyed watching children and coming to see her, where she took time to think over the offer of staying at Draco’s even though she desperately wanted to, where Ron and Hermione’s daughter stared at Draco as though he was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Ginny laughed again, shaking her head. With a wave of her wand, the plates she had set up for each of them floated over to the large table in the kitchen. She was grabbing some water and pumpkin juice when she heard the pitter patter of the children’s feet as they came running in.

“Dinner’s ready?” Teddy asked.

“Yeah, go sit. Rosie, sit in that seat there.”

“Is Uncle Dra-co sitting with me?” her soft voice inquired.

Ginny froze. It was common knowledge in the Weasley family that Rose addressed everyone she liked as uncle. For a while, Rose had even called Arthur and Molly uncle. Each one of her brothers’ wives were referred to as uncle and Ginny still got called uncle occasionally, whenever Rose was desperate for her attention and Ginny was distracted. She nodded slowly, wondering how exactly to deal with Rose’s new title for Draco. She was torn between bursting into giggles and attempting to correct her.

The arrival of Draco in the kitchen, his face dark, stalled her reaction.

What did she call me?”

She pressed her lips together to hide her amusement.

“Rose calls everyone she likes uncle.”

“Well, I don’t care for it.”

“Draco? Are you her uncle?” Teddy questioned from the table, his eyebrows furrowed. “I thought you were my uncle.”

“I’m your first cousin, once removed,” Draco told him, sounding as though he had repeated that fact many times over the past week. “And I’m not that Weasley’s uncle.”

“Then why does she get to call you that?” Teddy asked.

“She doesn’t. Make her stop,” he ordered, directing his attention to Ginny.

“I can’t.” Draco relieved Ginny of the pitcher of pumpkin juice she held as she spoke. “She does it to everyone.”

“Everyone?” Draco challenged.

Mostly everyone. Sort of. Ginny winced internally but offered Draco a wide, convincing smile.

“Yes, everyone.”

Draco took a seat at the table, waving his wand at the jug as he did so. Thankfully, he didn’t try to switch up the seating, probably in fear of upsetting Rose. If he had decided not to sit next to the little girl, she would’ve likely had a meltdown. Teddy let the subject drop, though he eyed Rose suspiciously as the jug poured juice in the empty glasses at the table.

Satisfied with Ginny’s answer, Teddy began eating without hesitation. Thankfully Ginny had cut up his food already so she didn’t have to worry about him choking in his haste. Rose didn’t use silverware, instead picking up pieces of the sausage with one hand and scooping up the mash potatoes with the other.

“This is revolting,” Draco said loudly, looking between the children.

Neither child listened, too distracted by their meal.

“Once upon a time, Malfoy, you ate like this too,” Ginny pointed out, smirking.

“Unlikely.”

“You were using silverware since birth?”

He scowled at her sarcasm.

“I wasn’t using my hands like a barbarian,” Draco told her.

“Ah, yes, I forgot how refined and advanced the Malfoy genes are compared to the average human.”

Draco’s scowl lightened into a grin. Ginny tilted her head, staring at him. He seemed… different from when she left him on Friday. She didn’t want to put it all on the fact that he clearly began to get to know Teddy better, but maybe that was it. Teddy was a child and a part of Draco’s family; something that he had never understood before. Perhaps it was good for Draco to spend time with the child, opening up a part of himself that he never had.

“You went flying?”

She focused on Draco, eyebrows furrowing.

“Sometime over the weekend?” he elaborated before taking a bite of his food. “Your face…”

He waved his hand over his own face.

“What about my face?” she asked.

Draco let out a long breath, looking as though he was barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes.

“It’s tan,” Draco said.

Ginny had gone flying over the weekend, for hours on end. Usually Ginny flew at least three times a week but hadn’t gotten the chance when she was staying with Draco and Teddy. The sun had been warm on her skin while she flew, to the point that her skin became sensitive after her last excursion into the sky. She fought the urge to touch her cheeks, which were growing hot.

“Yeah, a few times,” Ginny finally said. “I heard you took Teddy out on the broom too.”

The sound of a fork hitting a plate made Ginny flinch and she looked over at Teddy, who had taken a hold of Draco’s sleeve in his excitement.

“Yeah, Ginny, you should’ve seen me! I can balance on the broom now and, um, my feet don’t touch the ground anymore. Yesterday, at practice, I even managed to grab the Quaffle and fly around with it. It was great! Draco told me that I didn’t need to be afraid but I wasn’t, only sort of, but he held onto the back of the broom until I told him to let go, which I did. And then he stayed next to me until I told him he didn’t have to anymore. He saw me yesterday, didn’t you, Draco? Didn’t I fly so good? Harry took me out on the broom too, but he showed me the same stuff Draco did, but I still had fun then too.”

Teddy’s face was positively glowing as he spoke. Ginny now understood why Hermione had said Harry was jealous over Draco teaching Teddy to fly. It was obvious the little boy had received great pleasure from it. Turning her gaze from Teddy to Draco, she was surprised to find Draco smiling at the child, nodding slightly whenever Teddy looked at Draco to confirm something.

Her heart squeezed.

“Will you show me too, Uncle Dra-co?” Rose asked, eyes wide.

He cringed at the term but responded without commenting on her new nickname for him.

“If only to piss off your father—”

“Draco!” Ginny snapped, laughing. “Language.”

“I’m sure Weasley has said far worse things in front of her,” Draco drawled.

Rose was giggling along with Ginny, waving her hands excitedly. Bits of food flew everywhere. Draco frowned at the sight of it.

“Can’t deny that,” Ginny admitted. “Oh, Rose, you have potatoes in your hair.”

Reaching over, Ginny pulled out the random bits of food she found from the little girl’s curls. Then, pushing her hair back, Ginny looked into her niece’s eyes. They were blue like Ron’s. It was odd to see her brother’s eyes staring back at her. Honestly, Ginny wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to seeing her brothers in their children.

Leaning back in her seat, she went to take a sip of her pumpkin juice but froze when she saw that Draco had been watching her. He lifted his glass as though toasting her. She had a flash of the night they shared the bottle of wine, of the clinking of their glasses, her legs pressed against his as they relaxed on his bed. A shiver raced up her back as she lifted her glass and winked at him.

He grinned back. With Teddy still chattering about flying to her left and Rosie shoving her hand full of mash potatoes into her mouth to her right, they shared a silent cheers.

)*(*)*(

“Do you believe me?”

Angelina caught the Quaffle that Ginny tossed to her easily, throwing it towards Roger without any hesitation. The older woman was frowning thoughtfully.

“Ginny, you know I want to believe you—”

Roger threw the Quaffle back at Ginny, whose fingers barely had a grip on it before pitching it back to Angelina.

“But what?”

“You’re trying to tell us Malfoy knits,” Roger laughed. “It’s insane.”

“And rather hard to believe,” Angelina added as the Quaffle left her hands.

Always a show off, Roger hung from the broom with only his legs locked in order to catch the ball. Upside down, he was still smiling widely.

“As much as I would love to believe it,” he added.

“I stayed with him the whole last week,” Ginny cried out as the Quaffle came towards her. “I think I would know more than you of what he does in his spare time.”

“Yeah but, Weasley, it’s also a bit hard to believe that you even stayed with him that long.”

“Why?”

“I think Johnson and I would both agree that if you had been with him that long he’d be tied up to his bed, missing practice, so that you could have your dirty way with him—”

Angelina laughed loudly when Ginny threw the Quaffle back at Roger hard. He barely caught it, his broom taking a dive from the force of the throw. Ginny grinned sweetly at him.

“You were saying?” she asked.

“Harpy,” Roger grumbled, rubbing his side.

“Prat,” Ginny retorted.

“Hey, now, remember we’re supposed to be practicing,” Angelina butted in.

Indeed, they were supposed to be practicing. It was rather pointless, something Draco and Ginny both complained to each other about as they got ready beside each other in the locker room, but still mandatory. Instead of doing anything too intense, in fear of getting injured and wasting away their summer, the team had opted for an easy practice.

The Beaters were hitting a Bludger back and forth on one side of the pitch, keeping it far from the other players. The reserve players were having a small match between each other and the Keeper on the other side of the field by the rings. Draco was chasing after a Snitch high up in the sky. And the Chasers were tossing a Quaffle between them as they talked.

Roger and Angelina had become rather good friends of Ginny’s once they joined the team and had always teased her about Draco, even though she had never told them anything about her crush on him. Apparently, to them at least, it was fairly obvious how she felt. She hated it, hated that she felt like more and more people were realizing her feelings for Draco despite the fact that she tried her best to keep them hidden. Angelina and Roger were constantly around her and Draco during training season and then the following Quidditch season, so she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised they figured it out. After all, they were the two players of the team she trained with the most.

At least the rest of the team remained in the dark about it.

But now Neville knew too. She trusted Neville, really she did, but she felt like it was all unwinding in her hands. Which was why, when Draco and Teddy had left Ron and Hermione’s the night before, she had decided not to go back to his flat with him. They had shown up around the same time today in the locker room, everything normal, and Ginny couldn’t help but hope, perhaps, if she just continued seeing Draco every couple of days they could remain friends and nothing would get weird—

“Pay attention!”

Angelina’s shout alerted Ginny to the Quaffle flying above her head. She darted after it, the wind loosening the strands of her braid, and she reached her hand out. The red ball spun in the air, the force of Roger’s throw strong, before abruptly beginning to fall. It landed easily in her grasp and she stopped mid-air, adrenaline pulsing through her veins, the familiar feeling bringing a grin to her lips.

“Proud of yourself?”

Draco lazily flew beside her. In his grasp, the wings of the Snitch fluttered, desperate to escape.

“You seem rather proud of yourself,” Ginny retorted. “How far did you let the Snitch get away before you went after it? Arm’s length?”

He shrugged, letting the Snitch go. It darted out in front of them, stationary for only a moment before attempting to zip away. Ginny’s hand shot out and grabbed it before the Snitch could disappear from their sight. She almost forgot how small the Snitch felt in her grasp compared to the Quaffle she held under her arm. Opening her palm, she looked down at it. The gold glinted in the sun.

“You were right,” she said, closing her fist around the Snitch.

“Of course,” Draco agreed arrogantly. “But what about?”

She rolled her eyes.

“They don’t believe me about you knitting.”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise before he scowled.

“Going to tell everyone, are you?”

“I thought you wouldn’t mind. After all, you had warned me no one would believe me,” she said, smirking.

“That is very true, Weasley. Perhaps I’ll knit you a jumper for your failed attempt.”

Below her, she could hear Angelina and Roger complaining about not having the Quaffle. Ginny looked down. Angelina was blocking the sun with her hand, glaring up at Ginny, as Roger grinned suggestively at her. He winked when they made eye contact.

Shit, she forgot she was supposed to be practicing.

“Here!” she shouted, releasing the Quaffle from under her arm.

The Quaffle dropped through the air quickly and she heard Roger curse as he raced for it. She looked back to Draco, who was overly amused.

“Going to your mother’s tomorrow?” Draco inquired.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

“The Burrow, yeah,” she paused. “Why?”

He shrugged.

“I was going to see if you wanted to meet up. I’m not fond of the idea that the Lupin boy is becoming my only friend. Other than you, I suppose.”

Warmth flooded through her and she shifted on her broom uncomfortably. If the fact that her face felt like it was on fire was any indication, she could only assume she looked like a tomato at his words. Ginny hoped he didn’t notice.

“I, for one, know you have at least two other friends by the name of Parkinson and Flint. They don’t want to spend time with you while you’re with Teddy?” Ginny teased, leaning forward on her broom.

She drifted closer to Draco. If she wanted, she could reach out and touch him.

“You’re right on both accounts. They are my friends but are rather horrible. Won’t come see me with the boy in my care,” he mused. “You also forgot Zabini is included in my group.”

“Ah, yes, all three of your friends.”

“Five total.”

He held up his gloved hand, fingers out, so she could see exactly how many friends he had. She grinned, delighted.

“Think Teddy is having fun right now?” Ginny asked.

During dinner the night before, Draco had realized Teddy would have to come with him to the Quidditch practice. Then they would have to go straight to Teddy’s little league practice. Thankfully, one of the coaches, Ursula Booth, volunteered to watch him while Draco trained.

“Hanging out with Booth? Unlikely,” Draco scoffed. “If he has any sort of taste, that is.”

Ginny snorted.

“Weasley!” Angelina’s familiar cry came. “Get down here!”

The pair looked down to see Angelina waving angrily at them. With a sigh, Ginny met Draco’s eyes and shrugged.

“Suppose it’s time to get back to tossing the Quaffle around,” she grumbled.

“Absolutely pointless that we’re here,” Draco complained.

She made a sound of agreement and, before he could reach to grab the Snitch from her, opened her hand. The Snitch wasted no time escaping her grasp, its wings stretching and flapping rapidly before disappearing.

“You wench!”

Despite his insult, he was grinning. Their eyes held for a second before he leaned forward on his broom and flew away from her. Her hair blew from her face from the speed of his departure and she let out a single, loud laugh. As they often did, her eyes followed his figure as it disappeared from her reach.

)*(*)*(

It was a well-known fact among the Weasley children that summer was the best time to visit home. Simply put, the Burrow came to life this time of year. All the vegetables in the garden grew wild, the weeds along with them, keeping her mum constantly at work. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight when stopping by to find Molly outside, knees in the dirt while muttering angrily about the garden gnomes. Across the field, she knew she’d find the apple orchards producing fruit, though not nearly as much as it would come August. This early in the season the apples were tart and juicy but quick to rot.

The pond water would be warm, if she decided to venture out past the groves, and the grass would be high. The bird feeder that hung high in the tree that Ginny and her brothers used to climb was a constant post for birds of every color. Whenever she came home on one of her dad’s days off, she’d hear him humming in the shed or drinking pumpkin juice in the rocking chair while he looked over the flowers Molly had planted.

The Burrow was one of her favorite places to go, especially when her mind was whirling.

“Everything okay, dear?” her mum questioned, brushing off her dress as she came up onto the porch.

Ginny nodded, banishing the thoughts that had been plaguing her since the day before.

Merlin, not just the day before. Really, it’d been ever since she had first decided to stay at Draco’s flat with him. They troubled her even worse now, as she forced herself to avoid solitary contact with Draco.

Was she doing the right thing by not spending time with him? Was she becoming too obvious? How did she stop her feelings from growing? Did she even want to stop them? Why wasn’t she with him? Why did she miss him so much? Did he miss her too?

And, perhaps the thought that harassed her the most: Why didn’t she just tell him she liked him?

Maybe she was making it up but it seemed their relationship had changed, at least slightly. Weren’t his eyes softer now when they fell on her? Didn’t his smile seem to widen when they made eye contact? Wasn’t he visibly happier now when he saw her?

Ginny cleared her throat, running a hand through her hair.

She had come to the Burrow earlier than normal today, with nothing else to do. She feared if she didn’t, she’d end up on Draco’s doorstep, hoping he was glad for her arrival, anxious over the idea that he wouldn’t be.

“Come, sit, mum.”

Ginny patted the seat of the chair beside her. Molly smiled warmly at her, grasping her hand as she sat down. The chair groaned as her mum settled into it.

“Angelina is coming to dinner tonight,” her mum said. “George told me a few days ago.”

“Really? I saw Angelina at practice yesterday, she didn’t mention it.”

Molly nodded slightly before turning her head towards Ginny.

“I rather think that George likes Angelina, don’t you? Quite a bit?” Molly asked, eyes hopefully.

Ginny couldn’t help but grin. If there was one thing true about her mum, it was that she desperately wanted each of her children to find a partner and begin a family. Of course, Molly had always cared about her children more than anything else. Growing up, Ginny had never felt she lacked love from her mum. Each child was special in a different way in Molly’s eyes. Each child was her main concern.

After the war, though, George became her mum’s central worry. He had lost Fred. Everyone had lost Fred, of course, but it was different for George. The rest of the siblings understood that they could deal with the loss of their brother by themselves—but if they didn’t allow their mum to help try to fix George, to focus all her attention on him, they would lose him too.

And what Molly spoke was true. Angelina and George had been close since Hogwarts, though Ginny thought that Fred had favored Angelina more during that time. Whether that was true or not, Ginny supposed she’d never know. But since the Final Battle, and the reconstruction of the wizarding world, Angelina spent any time not at Quidditch with George. Perhaps there was something growing there.

“We all like Angelina,” Ginny answered instead. “Of course, you spend the most time—”

A sharp, quick knock from the front of the house startled Ginny into silence. Molly frowned in surprise.

“Wonder who that could be?”

When Molly went to sit up, Ginny jumped to her feet, using her hand to gently keep her mum seated.

“I’ll get it. Want something to drink too? Water, maybe?”

“Oh, yes, dear, that would be wonderful.”

Ginny went through the back door into the kitchen. Sometimes the local muggle children would come by the house, asking for any spare vegetables for their dinner. Apparently, her mum grew the best vegetables in the village. Of course, the fact that she used some magic wasn’t known to anyone but the occupants of the Burrow. What the muggles didn’t know wouldn’t harm them.

Pulling open the front door, Ginny went to say hello before freezing.

“Draco?”

The sight that greeted her forced the air from her lungs. Standing on the front step of the Burrow, with a drenched handkerchief pressed to his nose, Draco merely raised his eyebrows. The paleness of his skin was beginning to purple under his eyes and his hair was blown back, as though he had been dueling. And, behind him, stood Teddy, who looked startled and frightened.

“Hello, Weasley. Are you going to invite me in? Or should I hope that someone with better manners might come to the door soon?”

)*(*)*(

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