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

Something must have shown on her face for Draco lowered the handkerchief, frowning.

“I’m not bleeding anymore,” he told her.

His words were soft and they would have been comforting had he not exposed his nose to her. She gasped at the sight. Draco’s nose, which was normally straight and sharp, was swollen and bruised; the bruising was an ugly yellow and green that was rapidly darkening, promising to evolve into a deep purple. Ginny reached out on instinct, pressing her hand against his jawline.

“What happened?” she breathed.

Draco’s eyebrows rose high and she shook her head in surprise.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Come in, you git.”

Ginny stepped back quickly, allowing Draco and Teddy entry into the Burrow. Teddy had his hands wrapped up in the back of Draco’s shirt and his lower lip was shaking, a sight that startled Ginny almost as much as Draco showing up unannounced, beaten to a pulp.

She shut the door, worry nipping at her, but Draco had already stopped walking and had turned to face her. Now that she was over the initial shock of his arrival, her eyes roamed over him, taking in as much as she could. His hands were shaking and his breathing was quick. Draco’s neck was flushed and, along with the bruising on his face, she could see a pink tint on his cheeks. Had he really just dueled?

Before she could ask, his eyes left hers in order to meet Teddy’s.

“Go sit, will you?” he ordered.

His words were direct but lacked any hostility.

“Go on, Teddy,” Ginny said, when he wouldn’t let go of Draco. “There are cookies in the kitchen, if you want some.”

Molly always baked before having the family over for their traditional Friday night meal.

Teddy looked up at her and she gave him a tentative smile. Then, with a deep breath, he nodded to himself and let go of Draco. Once he was out of sight, Ginny took two quick steps to Draco. His breath warmed her face as she stared up at him. Without a second thought, she reached up to move the handkerchief from his nose, where Draco had again placed it.

She winced.

“What the hell happened to you?”

Draco shook his head and her stomach sank. Was he going to ignore her question? But then he let out a long sigh.

“Some bloke thought he’d play hero and force me to pay for all the wrong my family has done in the past.” Though his words were light, mocking, there was a hardness that Ginny hadn’t seen in years painted on his face.

“With Teddy there?” Ginny almost growled. “Where were you?’

While they spoke, Ginny took her wand from the holster on her hip and tried to do something about the swelling. Not much changed. He must’ve been punched in the nose, she realized with a grimace. The skin under his eyes was darkening even still and his nose remained abnormally large.

Growing up with six brothers, Ginny knew a handful of healing spells that helped heal scratches and bumps. But broken noses? Not so much.

“Diagon Alley. Teddy wanted to look at that new damn broom they released so I took him.”

“Who was it?”

“Likely one of your old friends.” At her severe look, his lips curled upwards, in a small, familiar smile. “Dumbledore’s Army, wasn’t it? Still trying to save the world.”

“Shut it,” she muttered.

But tension she hadn’t realized was there disappeared with his teasing words. Worriedly, she bit her lip.

“So you came here?” Ginny asked.

An odd look crossed Draco’s face.

“I… forgot Teddy was there for a moment, after the fool first hit me. And then I saw the boy, looking frightened and about to cry, and his knee was cut open from when I shoved him away and… I’m afraid I might’ve reacted a bit harshly. Hexed the man. I can’t even remember what curse I used, to be honest. It will surely be in the papers tomorrow.”

Dramatically, Draco threw his hands up.

“Malfoy heir follows father’s footsteps, attacks innocent bystanders in Diagon Alley,” he said with a flourish.

A grin cracked across her face.

“The owners will love that,” Ginny quipped.

Draco’s smirk grew.

“Ginny? What’s this?”

Draco and Ginny looked away from each other in surprise. Stomach dropping, Ginny realized she had forgotten her mum was here. Teddy stood beside Molly’s hip, two cookies in his right hand and one in his left. He lifted the one up slowly, taking a bite. Ginny’s eyes raked over him, guilt flooding her system when she noticed the cut on Teddy’s leg that Draco had mentioned. She hadn’t even thought to look over the boy. But, other than the small wound, he seemed fine.

“Mum! I—”

“Teddy said you’d been attacked?” Molly asked, turning her attention from her daughter to Draco. “Is that right?”

“Mrs. Weasley,” Draco greeted slowly.

The amusement that had been painted across his face was gone. Now his expression was blank.

The tension that had left Ginny only moments ago came back full force. It had been deliberate, her attempt at keeping her family separate from Draco. Whenever they came to watch her play with the Tornados they never ran into the person who was once their sworn enemy. Ginny had always believed it was both because she tried to keep them away from Draco and because he tried to stay away from them. But here he was now, standing in the hall of her childhood home.

She met her mum’s gaze.

“Mum,” she started again, licking her suddenly dry lips. “You remember Draco? He’s on my team. The Seeker.”

Ginny purposely avoided using his last name but it didn’t matter. Molly knew the man that stood in her home.

“Of course,” her mum said. “You look identical to your father, Draco.”

This was horrible. If it was possible, Ginny would’ve liked the floor to swallow her whole. Instead she was forced to switch her weight from one foot to the other, eyes darting between Molly and Draco.

“Yes, well, it’s a pity since my association with my father tends to get me trouble. Rather like this.”

He waved at the general area of his nose. Molly’s face softened as she looked over him. Ginny could only imagine what was going through her mind. Her mum was a nurturer by nature but had despised the Malfoy family for ages. Would she take care of Draco? Or would she ask him to leave?

“Are you going to help his nose? Is it going to look like that forever?”

Teddy’s voice startled the three adults. Molly glanced down at the boy, her lips turning up in a gentle smile.

“No, no, I can fix it. Does your leg hurt much, dear?” Molly questioned.

Taking a moment to stop eating his cookie, Teddy lifted his injured leg off the ground. He grinned proudly at the adults.

“Not at all! Will it scar, you think? Will it look cool? I can’t wait to tell Granny. One minute we were looking at the broom then BAM! That guy came up and Draco shoved me and—”

Teddy kept talking but the three adults looked back at each other. His words seemed to make the decision for Molly and she approached Draco with no hesitation.

“Pushed him out of the way?” she questioned.

“I didn’t mean for him to fall,” was all Draco said, eyeing Molly warily.

“Of course not. Come, let’s go in the kitchen. You’re nearly as tall as Ron and I won’t be able to do a thing without you sitting.”

With a wave of her hand, Molly ushered Draco out of the hall and into the other room, leaving Ginny and Teddy behind. Ginny bent so she was eyelevel with the boy.

“Are you okay?”

He hesitated, his excitement disappearing.

“It was scary. The guy came out of nowhere. Draco wasn’t even looking. Harry always says it’s not a fair fight if they’re not looking.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t very nice,” Ginny agreed, battling the anger that was boiling her blood. “Want to go watch my mum fix up Draco’s nose?”

“Wicked!”

Teddy grabbed her hand and followed her into the kitchen.

)*(*)*(

The Burrow, as the sign outside the rickety house had dubbed it, was not quite what Draco had expected when he made fun of it all those years ago. He had pictured something closer to, well, a barn. But this wasn’t a barn and didn’t smell of farm animals like he had believed it would. No, there was a sweet cinnamon aroma that lingered in the air, reminding him of Christmas day at Hogwarts. Dozens of pictures in crooked frames adorned the walls, giving him glimpses of the Weasley family everywhere he looked. In the kitchen, pots and pans worked by themselves to scrub the residue of food off.

The house was worn and battered, like most of the things he had mocked Ginny’s idiot brother for at Hogwarts, but there was something warm about this place. It wasn’t simply a house, it was a home; something Draco wasn’t sure he had ever truly been to or enjoyed before. And, rather suddenly, he understood why Ginny was the way she was, having grown up somewhere like this.

It made his stomach knot unpleasantly.

Draco wasn’t sure, truthfully, why he had Apparated to the Burrow instead of going home or Pansy’s or anywhere else. One second he was listening to Teddy talk about the broom showcased in the window and the next someone had grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around, before socking him in the face. His back had hit the window with a loud crack. Everything had hurt; the surprise of the attack made it impossible for him to mask his pain. When he looked up and saw Teddy on the ground, Draco could barely process his thoughts. He hadn’t even remembered that he had pushed Teddy out of the way till the boy reminded him after. And when the man who had attacked him began yelling about Death Eaters and injustice and asking who let a Malfoy watch their child, he had reacted on instinct.

The hex flew from his lips as the crowd screamed around him, he ran forward and grabbed Teddy, then Apparated. It wasn’t the first time Teddy had Apparated, clearly, for the boy seemed more shaken by what had happened at Diagon Alley than the trip away from it. He was trembling and the skin of his leg was torn and, fuck, if Draco ever saw that man again he would kill him for scaring the kid so badly—

When he had looked up and realized where he was, Draco had immediately gone to find Ginny.

Even worse, after avoiding Ginny’s family for so long, years of dodging their company at games and such, he had walked right into the lions’ den. His father would kill him if he saw Draco now; wounded and tired, taking care of a werewolf’s son and being tended to by a blood traitor. Hating his thoughts, that he could hear his father’s sneering voice in his head, Draco focused on the older woman before him. Molly Weasley had tender eyes and a kind smile. The wrinkles by her lips warned Draco of the stern berating he would’ve likely received if it weren’t for the Lupin boy’s confirmation of his story.

The hen of the house’s wand work was flawless, though, as she healed his nose and reduced the swelling. Behind her, Teddy was seated on the kitchen counter with Ginny’s help. Ginny was pulling faces at the boy, forcing reluctant laughs from him. She had been doing so ever since Molly took charge of healing Draco and it was something she was rather good at—making people laugh whether they wanted to or not.

How many times had Ginny done the same to him?

Wasn’t that how they had become friends?

With a final wave of her wand, the pain in his nose disappeared. Molly leaned back, viewing her finished work with a sharp look. She seemed to think it was good enough, though she didn’t step away from Draco. Why was she staring at him like that? Was his face permanently damaged? He fought the urge to check his nose.

“I’m happy nothing worse happened,” she said quietly, for only him to hear.

Surprise flitted through Draco.

Molly paused, struggling to pick her words, and Draco watched silently. What was he supposed to say to this woman? Thank her? Agree with her? Draco had called her… horrible things over the years and, now, he could only hope none of it had ever reached her ears. And if it had… it only made her that much better of a person for allowing him entry to her home when he was hurt.

Her face changed and Draco knew that whatever she had wanted to say wouldn’t be spoken anytime soon. Instead, Molly brushed her hands off and stood up.

“Are you hungry?”

Draco was already shaking his head no before she finished the question.

“Well, then, perhaps Ginny can show you the apple orchards and you can pick something for a pie I was planning on baking for the family later, hmm?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny glance at him, a smile brightening her face. He wasn’t sure how to say no so, instead, he gave Molly a small nod.

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Teddy, dear, do you want a sandwich?” Molly asked.

Teddy nodded his head eagerly as Draco stood from his spot.

There was an odd look in Molly’s eyes as she looked between Draco and Ginny. He wasn’t sure what it was but it made him feel as though she were trying to read him, read them. Ginny’s cheeks flushed under her mother’s gaze.

“Go on, then,” she finally said. “Grab a basket on the porch, Ginny.”

Ginny motioned for him to follow her out the back door and he did, not wanting to be left with Molly Weasley any longer than he had to be. As soon as the door shut behind him, he stilled. The backyard of the Burrow was as large as Malfoy Manor’s, though nothing about the two yards was similar. Overgrown with weeds, wild flowers, and barely managed vegetables, the high grass barely showed the tips of the garden gnomes’ hats as they marched along the fence.

Who even had garden gnomes still? And why didn’t someone trim back the grass? Did they actually eat the vegetables from this garden? Merlin, his mother would age twenty years if the garden at Malfoy Manor ever looked anything close to this.

Draco peeked at Ginny, who had a basket balanced on her hip and was watching him.

“Let’s go before she comes out to see what we’re doing, yeah?” Ginny suggested.

With a quick nod, he jumped off the porch and followed her through the garden, past a tiny shed, and up a hill. He wondered where their property ended. Ginny walked at a brisk pace, the path clearly one she knew by heart. Above them, the sun hung high, the only comfort from heat arriving from the few clouds that lazily drifted through the sky.

Ginny didn’t speak at all and, initially, Draco had brushed it off as her leading the way. But after five minutes of silence, he reached for her, grabbing her elbow to get her attention. She stopped at his touch, whipping around to stare at him. Her brown eyes blazed and he fought the urge to release her.

“What?” was all he could think to say, wavering at the sight of her glare.

She let out a loud huff.

“I can’t stop thinking about what happened. Teddy said the guy attacked you from behind—”

“Indeed.”

“What a coward,” she hissed. “With Teddy there! He could’ve been hurt. You could’ve been hurt worse—”

“I’m fine, Weasley.”

“Was it really someone who used to be in the D.A.?”

“What? No, I was joking—”

“How could someone do that?”

“If I find him, I’ll ask him that first.” When she didn’t laugh, he sighed. “Ginny, really—”

Saying her first name seemed to release her from her rage. She stared up at him, her expression changing.

“I’m so sorry, Draco.”

Her voice broke when she spoke those four words and the fire that raged in her eyes was doused with a sadness he wasn’t used to seeing from her. The grip he had on her elbow now felt necessary for the world around him came to a complete stop as he stared at Ginny—or, at least, it felt as if it had.

His throat was dry and he tried to swallow but it was painful. Everything about Ginny Weasley was intense; her fury, her joy, her sorrow, and, apparently, her remorse. She was apologizing to Draco for some prat she had never met. Ginny had absolutely nothing to do with it, hadn’t been anywhere in the area, yet her gaze was borderline heartbroken as she stared at him.

“Why?” he croaked. “What do you possibly have to be sorry for?”

Ginny closed her eyes briefly.

“You didn’t deserve that. And, who knows, if we had never played on the Tornados together maybe I would’ve done something similar to you in anger—”

“You would’ve never attacked me in the middle of Diagon Alley with my back turned,” Draco assured her, laughing at the idea. “You’ve too much honor for that.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head.

“I was angry for so long. When you first joined the team, I was furious and hurt and who knows what I would’ve done if…” Ginny trailed off, looking utterly exhausted.

Draco stepped closer to her, his grip on her elbow tightening as he bent his head to speak.

“Are you actually trying to suggest that you’re cowardly? Or spineless? Ginny Weasley? The Ginny Weasley?” One corner of her lips curled. “The one who vandalized each of the tables in the Great Hall my seventh year, using permanent paint to write out Dumbledore’s Army, still recruiting.”

“How’d you know that was me?” she asked, laughing.

“Lucky guess,” he drawled. “Cunning? Devious? Yes. Cowardly? Stooping low enough to attack a man with a child? No. That’s not you.”

Ginny stared at him hard for a moment, her smile still lingering on her lips. That odd feeling was twisting in his gut again, the one he’d begun to feel anytime Weasley did something surprising or he found his eyes slow to leave hers as she laughed with him, or… or… it’d been happening far too much, really. Then she let out a sigh, tilting her head.

“You know, I should be the one comforting you. You have the bruised face and all.”

Draco let go of her to reach up and touch his nose.

“It’s bruised still?”

“Horribly,” Ginny admitted. “Spells don’t fix bruising, do they?”

“No, I suppose they don’t,” he agreed with a frown.

His fingers traced the line of his nose, smooth as it had been before he’d been attacked. The skin did feel a bit tender but nothing that would alert him that it was still purple. Ugh, great.

The pair began walking again.

Draco wasn’t sure how long they had stayed out by the orchards. Ginny picked apples off the branches, talking to him about growing up at the Burrow. She didn’t seem to have a direction with the conversation and never really checked to see if he was listening or not but she needn’t worry. He wouldn’t have been able to stop listening even if he wanted to.

She had shown him the pond on the property, dipping her feet into it with no hesitation and splashing him when he refused to come closer. Then she showed him the various trees that the Weasley siblings had climbed throughout their childhood, always daring each other to go higher, higher, higher. No wonder Ginny was so fearless. Some of those trees she claimed to climb to the top of were bloody tall.

On the way back to the house, she opened the shed and let him peer in. There were random gadgets he didn’t know the names of, things torn apart and put back together in a way that didn’t seem quite right. Her father’s workshop, she told him proudly.

The day had been shocking since the turn of events at Diagon Alley. But coming to Ginny’s childhood home, exploring a house that had once been the bane of the Death Eater’s existence, and being given the opportunity to understand why she was the way she was was an unexpected treat. Now, after delivering the apples to Molly and helping wash them off, they sat on the edge of the porch. Ginny’s arm was warm against his as they stared out at her yard.

Against his better judgement, Draco couldn’t deny the magic that filled the land here. Seven children born to pureblood parents. Six boys who roamed the grass as children, playing and teasing and using accidental magic when they were angry or upset or happy. The youngest, a daughter, who made up her own rules when she couldn’t play with the boys. A daughter, the first born in generations, who rotated flying her brothers’ brooms when they weren’t looking. Plants that muggles would never be allowed blooming in a large garden beside garden gnomes, who were at general peace with the owners of the property. Apples that tasted far too tart, far too delicious, to have been planted by a muggle.

The land reeked of magic.

“This is where children should grow up.”

“What?”

Draco froze when he realized he had spoken out loud. He could feel her curious gaze on him but he kept his eyes forward, once again looking out over the backyard. The apple groves, the rolling hills, the garden he had once thought messy but now thought wonderfully wild… There was a swing set in the distance and the shed where Arthur Weasley worked on things that would likely make the Ministry frown. The smell of freshly baked pies wafted from the open window and he could hear Teddy giggling at something Mrs. Weasley was showing him.

Children shouldn’t be raised by former Death Eaters in dark, cool manors. Draco hadn’t minded his childhood, of course, but he hadn’t realized other children had this option. He had been given everything he wanted when he was younger but there had never been anyone else to play with; even if there had been, he likely wouldn’t have shared his toys.

Children deserved to be raised by people like Ginny, who laughed a lot and were honest and had morals. People like bloody Granger, whose only fault was that she wasn’t born to a magical family. People like Longbottom, who managed to somehow change the tide of the war despite never making a proper potion on the first go.

“You were very lucky to grow up here,” he told her, clearing his throat.

He could still feel her eyes on him. She nodded slowly in response.

“Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

The sun was slowly dragging itself down. Soon, it would be hidden behind the hills. Seeing that also, Ginny straightened.

“Did you want to stay for dinner?” she asked cautiously. “Most of the family will be here and they’re a nightmare but they’re still fun. I mean, I think you’d have fun with everyone.”

Draco tried to hide the shock that nipped him but wasn’t sure he succeeded. Dinner with the Weasleys? At the Burrow? What was happening with his life? Draco laughed at his thoughts, shaking his head slightly.

“No, I couldn’t possibly.”

A flash of something colored Ginny’s face and his laughter died. Had it been hurt? He hadn’t seen that expression on her face… possibly ever. His lungs constricted at the sight and he reached for her before abruptly stopping himself. What was going on with him recently?

Running a hand over his face, he tried to get his head straight.

“I’m not sure I’d be welcomed here,” Draco told her once the words came to him.

It was the truth. Even if he pretended the idea of doing dinner with the Weasley brood was something that interested him, it didn’t change the reality of the situation. There was simply no way her brothers would let him join. Even if Ginny somehow managed to convince the idiot, Ron, to let him sit at the table there were plenty more brothers he’d have to endure, a few of which had been at school with him.

He didn’t like admitting that fact to Ginny. Opening himself up like that, especially after the incident at Diagon Alley, wasn’t fun. But the expression on Ginny’s face changed.

“Is it because your face is all bruised up and ugly?” she asked.

Her words were soft, kind, but there was a wicked glint in her eyes.

“My face is not ugly,” he scoffed, the tension easing in his chest.

“I’m serious. I won’t let them bully you, Draco. I’ll stand up for you.”

“Just what I need. The youngest sibling standing guard over me.”

Ginny bit her lip as she grinned. Then she let out a low breath, leaning towards him slightly.

“You have my mum on your side, Draco,” she whispered, the tone of the conversation rapidly changing. “That’s all you need, really.”

His eyebrows rose. Did he really now? Draco thought of Molly, of what she said after she fixed his nose. The older woman hadn’t cursed him, after all. And she had asked him if he was hungry afterwards.

The weight of Ginny’s gaze on him as she waited to hear what he would say was heavy.

“And you?” The question was asked without his permission, which had been happening far too often recently.

She tilted her head in confusion.

“You’re on my side also?”

“And me,” Ginny agreed, her smile so bright it made that strange feeling wash over him again.

The urge to push her hair from her face overcame him but he ignored it. Seriously, what was going on with him? Too much time with Ginny and Teddy, that was it. But… it didn’t mean he was ready to leave her side.

He owed her for helping him. So if she wanted him to have dinner with her… he would.

)*(*)*(

“Is this a joke?”

“Ron, don’t—”

“Stop, Hermione. No, seriously, this has to be a joke. George?”

“Not me, mate.”

“Percy?”

There was a scoffing noise.

“Bill? Is this you?”

“No. Now, shut up, Ron, we’re trying to eat dinner.”

“You shut up, Bill, you never had to deal with this git at school. You were spared. Harry would have a meltdown if he saw this.”

“Harry isn’t here, though, Ron,” Hermione hissed through her teeth. “So, please—”

“Ginny? Ginny, tell me you’re just pulling one on me?”

“Not yet,” she replied sweetly.

Ron glared at her.

“This was you,” he accused.

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Obviously it was me, you duffer. We’re on the same Quidditch team. Have been for years, if you remember. He got attacked at Diagon Alley—”

“Nasty bruise there, Malfoy,” George noted. “Think you’re better for it. You look less like your revolting father.”

“Thanks for that,” Draco drawled.

George beamed.

“Even if he got attacked,” Ron continued, speaking loudly over George and Draco. “Why come here? To the Burrow? Why? Why here?”

“Oh, shut up, Ron, you’re driving me insane.”

Hermione looked ready to curse her husband. Perhaps he felt the danger in her gaze for he angrily clamped his lips shut. His glare, though, didn’t leave Draco. Ginny groaned internally. Maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to do dinner with Ron here. But, when Ginny snuck a peek at Draco, she saw he looked oddly amused by the whole situation.

Arthur cleared his throat at the head of the table. He looked tired, as he often did when returning home from the Ministry, but he had seemed less surprised to see Draco sitting at his kitchen table than she would’ve thought. Beside him, Molly was serving Teddy food, ignoring the squabbling around her.

“Is Rosie with your parents, Hermione?” Arthur asked kindly.

Hermione nodded, her eyes still on Ron.

“They were out on vacation—”

“Oh, yes, Germany. Did they enjoy it?”

“Yes, very much. They hadn’t seen Rose in a while so they asked to keep her overnight. I’ll be getting her tomorrow before Teddy’s little league game.”

Teddy hummed happily at that as he ate.

Ginny turned her attention from their conversation to Draco, who was sitting sandwiched between her and Percy. She had purposely kept him away from George, just in case George decided adding something to Draco’s food would be funny. Angelina was on George’s other side and she wouldn’t have minded Draco sitting beside her but Angelina had wanted to sit close to Molly. And, honestly, Ginny had figured Percy would be least likely to start fighting with him. Bill would have been her preferred choice but he had Victoire and Louis on either side of him. Fleur hadn’t been feeling well and opted to stay home and miss the dinner.

“So, Mr. Malfoy.” Percy’s face did something funny, twisting as though he had bitten into a lemon, and he shook his head. “Draco. Malfoy.”

“That’s my name.”

Percy frowned. His wife, Audrey, patted his hand sympathetically.

“Malfoy. Your mother recently obtained several portkeys for travel around Europe,” he began conversationally before taking a bit of his meal. “I was informed when she first put her travel plans in a few weeks ago.”

Percy was the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation and was privy to the information of those traveling in or out of Britain.

Draco’s eyebrows rose.

“Monitoring my mother’s activities?”

Percy dropped his fork in surprise.

“Oh, no, of course not. I simply had been asked to approve—”

Ginny barely contained her laughter at the sight of Draco’s smirk.

“He’s being an idiot, Percy. Don’t mind him.”

Percy stopped his stammering, smoothing down the front of his shirt self-consciously.

“Oh, of course,” Percy said, picking up his fork again. “The Ministry doesn’t monitor the Malfoy family’s movements any longer.”

“Good to know,” Draco replied dryly.

“Well, they should,” Ron snapped from the other end of the table.

Hermione let out a loud sigh the same time as Ginny.

“Really, Ron, you make it sound like he turned your teddy bear into a giant spider,” Bill interrupted, grinning.

Louis giggled loudly at the sight of his dad smiling.

“No, he just tried to turn Harry over to the Death Eaters,” Ron growled at the same time George joyfully said, “No, that was me and Fred, actually.”

“I don’t understand how anyone is trying to pretend this is normal! Malfoy is sitting at our dinner table!”

“Do you think he’s here under false pretenses?” Audrey asked, glancing at Ron curiously. “Should we be very worried?”

Ron’s mouth moved wordlessly, clearly unable to decide if Audrey was joking or not.

“Well, that wouldn’t be too unlikely,” George mused. “He was an absolute wanker in school. Maybe you’re on to something, Ron.”

“Should we inform the Ministry? Hermione, you’re able to get hold of the Minister personally, aren’t you?”

“Oh, stop it, Bill,” Hermione tried to say sternly, looking torn between amusement and irritation.

“I have a rather long list of how I’d describe Malfoy back at Hogwarts. They likely still pertain to him now. Wanker, git, tosser, bastard, bloody bastard, spoiled, rotten, prat— anyway who wants to join in, please do—”

“Knock it off, George,” snapped Molly, reaching over to smack him with one of the wooden spoons she had been using to serve the potatoes.

Angelina burst out into laughter when George gave his mother a wounded expression.

“Mum, really, how old are we here?”

“You tell me, George!” Molly growled.

“What’s a wanker?” Teddy questioned curiously, looking between Angelina and Molly for an answer.

Percy let out a strangled laugh as Arthur buried his head in his hands.

“Yeah, dad, what’s a wanker?” Victoire asked.

Bill grimaced.

“Your mother won’t like that,” he murmured, before shushing Victoire when she asked again.

Thankfully, Draco still looked extremely pleased by the whole situation. He was slowly eating his food, his eyes darting around the table as every occupant seated talked about him or tried to get the others to stop talking about him. She supposed he always did like attention, whether good or bad.

“I have to play Quidditch with him every season,” said Angelina, delight dancing across her face. “Really, you should all pity me. I don’t know how Ginny puts up with him like she does.”

“She must have some screws loose in her hea—”

The words died on Ron’s lips when Ginny abruptly went to stand. Bill moved fast, grabbing onto her wrist before she had the chance to launch across the table. She pointed a finger at Ron.

“Finish that sentence, Ron, and you’ll regret it.”

Ron sneered but it fell short at Hermione’s glare.

“Draco went to trial and was cleared of any wrongdoing by Harry’s testimony. This is embarrassing, Ron, please stop,” Hermione whispered.

Her words carried over the table, her warning clear. Ron sagged in his seat, though his hand reached over to rub Hermione’s belly as though for comfort. She visibly relaxed at his touch. The conversation died briefly before picking up again, easily, as it often did whenever the Weasleys were together.

Ginny turned to find Draco smirking at her. She leaned towards him, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes?”

“Was that you defending me?” he questioned, so low that she barely heard him.

Ginny grinned sharply.

“That was me defending myself, actually.”

“Very well. I wanted to make sure before I remarked on what a horrid job you did if you had been defending me,” Draco informed her. “Truly. If I had any feelings—”

“Which you don’t.”

“—I would’ve been very upset.”

They shared a smile, one that made her heart flutter. This was absolutely ridiculous. He was only here because she had asked him to be here. That was it. But, still, Draco was sitting at the dinner table with her family after coming to the Burrow on instinct. If that didn’t mean something… what did?

The real question, of course, was what did it mean?

It wasn’t long before everyone was finished with their meals. Her mum brought out the pie she had baked earlier in the day and everyone took a slice, despite being overly stuffed. The clearing of a throat stopped all conversation.

Standing from his seat, Ron took a deep breath, waiting for everyone’s attention to fall on him. Ginny was ready to shut him up but, when she went to speak, George sent a subtle head shake her way. Odd. What was going on?

“There was something I wanted to share with everyone tonight. Despite present company.”

Ron glared at Draco, who looked positively delighted at his words.

Her mum and dad stared up at Ron in confusion. Teddy and Victoire were unbothered by what Ron was saying; their eyes were heavy as they tried to eat the last of their pie. Louis was already sleeping, slumped over in his highchair. Audrey looked politely curious, Percy’s eyes were narrowed, Angelina’s lips were pursed, and Bill was waiting patiently.

George seemed to know what was going on, his barely contained excitement radiating off him, and Hermione also seemed in the know, rubbing her belly and smiling softly at her husband.

“Is Hermione pregnant?” Ginny asked dryly when the silence became too much.

She heard Draco choke back a laugh.

“Shut up, Gin,” Ron mumbled. “No, I—uh, mum, dad, I’m going to, er, quit. Being an Auror.”

The table was quiet. It wasn’t that it was a bad thing, quitting his job. Ginny was pretty sure it was beginning to tire Ron in the same way Hermione said it was beginning to tire Harry. All they had been doing their young lives was fighting evil. It was a noble career choice but… Ron didn’t have to spend his whole life battling darkness.

“And he’s going to come work with me!” George shouted, standing up dramatically and throwing his arms in the air.

Without warning, George produced two wands that immediately began sparking. As each spark fell on the table, flames erupted from whatever it landed on. Hermione shouted angrily at George when her napkin set ablaze, Bill pushed Louis’s highchair away from the table and told Victoire to stay away, her mum gave out a cry of surprise, and—and Draco reached over, grabbing onto her hair.

“Ow, what are you doing, Malfoy?”

“Your hair was on fire. You’re welcome.”

“What? George, you absolute idiot! You’re setting everything on fire!” she yelled, but laughter colored her words.

Teddy was shrieking in delight, Audrey was helping put out some flames, Ron was pulling at his hair, and Arthur was watching tiredly from his seat. Angelina reached over and yanked the wands from George’s hands, tossing them in a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

“Oh, no, don’t do—”

The pitcher cracked then exploded, creating such large vibrations that the plates on the tables were thrown backwards. Molly had grabbed Teddy on instinct, covering him, and Ron had shielded Hermione as she grabbed Victoire. Draco and Ginny dove for cover, as she was sure everyone else did, but it hardly mattered. Everything on the table was thrown across the kitchen, knocking over dirty pots and pans, spilling the leftovers from dinner, and tossing the last few pieces of pie onto the ceiling.

Teddy’s loud giggle was the first thing she heard.

Ginny looked over at Draco, who was crouched beside her, his body sheltering her own ever so slightly. Someone’s mashed potatoes were in his hair and juice drenched his shirt. With all that, and the large purple bruise staining the middle of his face, Ginny felt her eyes crinkling as she started laughing. She tried stopping it, biting on her fist to halt the sound from reaching the others.

But then Draco spoke.

“What the fuck.”

That did it. She dropped her hand, rolling onto her back and letting the laughter pour from her. Ginny had laid in something disgusting but she didn’t bother to check because Draco was grinning wildly beside her and Teddy was still laughing on the other side of the room. Her mum was screaming bloody murder and George was rushing to make up some excuse.

“You could’ve KILLED US!”

“Mum, that’s dramatic, isn’t it—”

“EVERYTHING! RUINED! WHY did you bring out those wands? WHY!”

“Come now, mum, wasn’t it a bit funny?”

“YOU’RE NOT AT HOGWARTS ANYMORE, GEORGE!”

Draco wiped some of the food off his forehead, speaking to Ginny when she finally caught her breath.

“I should’ve known this is what dinner would be like with you Weasleys.”

And, despite the slime in his hair and the bruise on his face and his juice stained shirt, Ginny couldn’t help but marvel at how horribly handsome he looked. She couldn’t help but think how lucky she was that he decided to stay for dinner and how happy she was that he shared this insane moment with her.

As those thoughts raced through her head, as Draco got to his feet and her eyes traced his lean body, as he helped her up, his touch sending sparks across her skin, she couldn’t help but realize…

Merlin, she was in trouble.

)*(*)*(

In the future, if someone asked him to explain the events of the day, Draco wasn’t sure he could. Because, honestly, how did one go from telling the tale of getting attacked at Diagon Alley in the morning to ending up on the kitchen floor of the Burrow, covered in someone’s old food, with it making sense? It didn’t matter, not really, because who would Draco tell anyway?

Pansy? Flint? His mother?

No, that wouldn’t do him any good. They’d think he’d gone mad. And, perhaps, he had. Because there was something positively light and happy and fucking bubbly inside of him, that wouldn’t disappear even as he helped the Weasleys clean their kitchen. It didn’t leave when Ginny’s moron of a brother glared at him across the room as if the mess was all his fault, it didn’t leave when Granger said her goodbyes, a curious look in her eyes, it didn’t leave when Molly hesitantly grabbed his arm as she thanked him for helping or when Arthur apologized for what happened at Diagon Alley or when Bill said it was a pleasure meeting him or when George clapped him on the back, laughing, before leaving.

It did grow, however, when Ginny stepped up beside him, the sweet filling from the apple pie smeared across her left cheek. She was smiling at him, her hands clasped together in front of her, and Draco couldn’t help but wonder if she’d taste as satisfying as the sugary glaze on her face. The thought startled him, not because it was a horrible, disgusting thought, but because it filled his body with tingles and those tingles were certainly not something he had ever associated with Ginny before.

Tingles were fine and dandy when meeting a stranger, promising him a possibly wonderful shag if he managed it just right. But tingles arriving unexpectedly, making his body go warm and his skin suddenly extremely sensitive, only warned of danger—especially when they arrived because Ginny Weasley looked so completely fuckable standing the hallway of her childhood home, grinning at him wickedly. And while Draco had always known that Ginny was considered very, very fuckable by anyone with two eyes he had always kept that part of his mind firmly locked away when in her presence.

He had earned her friendship. They worked together. And she came to his aid, without much hesitation, when he asked her to.

Draco couldn’t risk that because he suddenly had the brilliant idea of shagging her.

It could ruin everything between them. Everything. She’d likely be disgusted if he mentioned it, would never speak to him again, the bond that they had worked so hard to build dissolving right before his very eyes. He had to, just, somehow, completely banish that thought. Never think on it again. Erase the memory of Ginny and apples and her smile as she looked up at him, sugary and sweet and—

Fuck.

Of course, it didn’t help that when Draco had gone to leave with Teddy, rather quickly once the surprising thoughts began entering his mind, she had asked if his offer still stood to spend time with him and Teddy. That night. And, Merlin help him, he couldn’t say no. Because he liked spending time with Ginny. He had enjoyed the day thus far because of her and no one else. And while he continually reminded himself that he had a good week with Teddy despite her absence he knew the week would’ve been much more fun if she had been there.

He was screwed.

So he agreed she could come back with him but took care to inform her it wasn’t to his flat. Draco had been staying at Malfoy Manor, as his mother had initially suggested. Something had flashed across her face (Hesitancy? Worry? Doubt?) before she grinned and agreed.

And now, after showering while Ginny made sure Teddy properly bathed himself, he laid on his bed and listened to her shower in the bathroom connected to his room. Malfoy Manor was his home and he treasured it, yes, but only two bedrooms and two bathrooms had been cleaned and prepared for his visit with Teddy. Draco wasn’t willing to let Ginny venture into any other rooms, for he could only imagine what things his mother had left out for any curious intruders. When he had offered to sleep in the drawing room, Ginny had stared at him blankly before telling him not to be stupid.

It was stupid, he supposed, since they had spent almost a week sharing the same bed. But he hadn’t had the thoughts before that he did at the Burrow. Those thoughts were now firmly locked away, never to be thought on again. Unless he was alone. And she was far, far away. And he could keep their friendship firmly separated while he—

The shower turned off and, a moment later, Ginny exited the bathroom. Her hair was wet and her skin flushed from the heat of the water. Her eyebrows rose when she spotted him.

“So this was your bedroom when you were a kid?”

Draco looked away from her and up at the ceiling. He swallowed thickly.

“Indeed.”

When she was quiet for too long, he looked over to find her walking around his room, studying everything. Her fingers traced the wood of his desk before flipping through a potions book from his fourth or fifth year that had been left on the desktop. She then opened one of his cabinets, peering in at the old school uniforms that still hung clean and pressed.

“May I?”

Draco inclined his head and she pulled out a uniform. Ginny stared at it curiously, running her hands along the fabric. She lifted the tie, silver and green and black, and held it between her hands.

“You would’ve looked good in green.”

Ginny glanced at him in surprise, her lips parting. He didn’t know why he said that but it was true. She would’ve looked… He cleared his throat, shaking his head. What the hell was wrong with him?

“The Sorting Hat considered it,” she admitted.

His eyebrows rose.

“For a second, anyway.” Ginny shrugged, putting the uniform away.

Then she yawned, covering her mouth with her hand and walking over to his bed with no hesitation. How very different from the first night she had stayed over. Draco moved to make room, his eyes looking her over without his permission.

“Is that a Chudley Cannons shirt?” he asked, disgusted.

Ginny laughed, nodding.

“It was one of Ron’s old ones. That’s all I had left at the Burrow, I had to get something,” she said in defense, laughing harder as his scowl deepened.

She jumped on the bed beside him, bouncing slightly before crawling under the covers. He followed suit, careful to keep himself from brushing up against her. The lights around them dimmed automatically but he could feel her eyes on him. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what expression she was wearing as she gazed at him.

“Tomorrow Teddy has a game?”

“Yes,” he responded, his voice soft, as though now that it was dark in his room he couldn’t speak loudly.

“I can’t wait to see him play.”

“You do realize he goes with Potter tomorrow for the night?”

Draco half wanted to point out how purposeless it was for her to sleep over but the words caught in his throat. He wondered if she knew what he was going to say, for her next words were oddly hesitant.

“It was… tonight… today was fun. Right?”

He stared at her silhouette.

“Yes,” Draco whispered. “It was.”

It was an odd admission, one that made goosebumps rise on his skin for reasons unknown. He could almost see Ginny smiling into her pillow. Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.

“Goodnight, Ginny.”

“Goodnight, Draco.”

)*(*)*(

“This is a different team than we played last time, Ginny, I wish you could’ve been there but it’s okay. Anyway, I hope they’re just as fun. We didn’t win but Draco said there wasn’t really any winning since no one seemed to really be playing, didn’t you say that, Draco? So we sort of won anyway, right? Yeah?”

Draco nodded in order to keep Teddy talking but his mind was not on the boy’s conversation at all. Thankfully, Ginny was dutifully listening, speaking when necessary and laughing when needed. In all honesty, Draco’s attention was not at all on the world around him, though his thoughts were very much focused on the woman beside him.

After waking up in his childhood bed, greeted by the sight of Ginny with her ginger locks splayed over his pillow, her face soft in sleep, Draco found himself rather lost. The realization came to him abruptly, at that moment as he studied her in her sleep, that she was the first person to share his bed with him at Malfoy Manor. Between his final dark years at Hogwarts and his hasty escape after being cleared of wrongdoing by the Ministry, Draco hadn’t had the chance to bring someone home with him, to snog or shag or simply sleep with.

And he had never really thought on it, to be honest. There had been no sense of loss. No regret. No curiosity over the idea of experiencing such an intimate and normal thing with someone in his former house.

But when he awoke to Ginny, her hands curled in the covers that had sheltered him from the darkness of the manor during the war, when he had heard daily the harsh whispers about the Dark Lord and murder and purging the world of mudbloods, he couldn’t catch his breath. Draco hadn’t ever wanted someone to sleep beside him in this room. It was startling to realize he was happy that it was Ginny who changed that.

Yet another thing about Ginny, another moment shared between them, that complicated Draco’s already tangled feelings for her.

“Oh, look! Look! It’s Harry! Harry! Harry!”

Great. One more unwelcome thing he had to deal with.

Teddy ran away from Ginny and Draco with no regard, racing toward Potter and his sidekicks who were standing on the edge of the field. As if last night hadn’t been enough time with Weasley and Granger, they had decided to come to Teddy’s game today also. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Draco contemplated turning around and leaving. It wasn’t like Teddy wanted him anyway—

“Draco! Ginny! Look! It’s Harry! Come here!”

Teddy was clinging to Potter’s hand excitedly. Draco’s eyes skimmed the group as they approached. Granger’s eyebrows were almost hidden in her wild locks as she watched Draco and Ginny walk up. Honestly, did the woman even try to contain her hair? It was like it had a life of its own. If Draco got close enough, strands of it would probably reach out and try to strangle him. And then there was the bloody idiot he had to deal with last night. Weasley was scowling at the sight of him, his grip on his offspring’s hand tightening protectively as though Draco was going to try to steal her.

As if Draco wanted anything to do with the little pest. He had enough of that Rose the other day.

And, of course, fucking Potter. He blinked owlishly at the arrival of Draco and Ginny, his eyes darting between the pair in slight confusion. A trill of satisfaction raced through Draco at the sight and he fought the urge to wrap his arm around Ginny’s shoulder and tug her close—that impulse certainly came from wanting to make Potter jealous and not wanting to touch Ginny for the hell of it.

Yes. Right. Anyway.

“Ginny. Draco,” Granger greeted, pursing her lips together. “What a pleasant surprise. I hadn’t thought you’d arrive together.”

Was she pursing her lips like that for a reason? To hide amusement? One of his eyebrows rose as he looked her over before turning to glance at Ginny. She was glaring at the other witch.

Interesting.

“You know I’ve been helping him with Teddy,” Ginny said shortly.

“Probably needs all the help he can get,” the moron grumbled.

“Thanks for, you know, bringing Teddy and watching him,” Potter said to Draco, like he had every time they’d seen each other while exchanging Teddy.

“He’s not your child, Potter,” Draco drawled. “No need to thank me.”

Potter frowned but before he could respond, or the moron could finish turning properly red in anger, a tiny voice rang out.

“Uncle Dra-co!”

Draco froze at the dreaded name. He almost groaned out loud when Rose shook off her father’s hand and set off at a run towards him. She was reaching for him as she ran and, with an exasperated sigh, he bent down to pick her up.

Merlin, if only his mother could see him now, associating with the next generation of Weasleys in public. She’d certainly regret her decision to have him watch Teddy then.

Rose grabbed Draco’s face, turning his gaze onto her, and her lips broke into a smile. This close, he could see that freckles dotted the young girl’s bronzed face. He scowled when she started giggling.

“Hello, Weasley,” he muttered, using his free hand to pull her grubby hands off his face.

He probably had dirt on his cheeks now. Great.

Looking away from the toddler in his arms, Draco jolted when he realized that everyone around him was staring at him. Potter, Weasley, and Granger each wore different expressions of surprise. Of course, Rose’s idiot father looked on the verge of puking at the sight before him. Ginny, he noticed, had a hand covering her mouth, hiding a smile. Her eyes were twinkling.

His scowl deepened.

“Don’t call him uncle, Rose,” Weasley croaked. “Please.”

Granger broke out of her trance, patting her husband’s back in comfort. A flash of amusement went through Draco.

“She calls everyone uncle, Ron,” Granger said, after another long silence.

“When has she even seen him?” Weasley groaned.

“They came over the other day so Teddy could call Andromeda.”

“Have you Scourgified the house yet?”

Granger rolled her eyes.

“She’d be lucky to have me as an uncle,” Draco said, interrupting their conversation.

Once again, the imbecile’s face turned maroon.

“It’s Granger-Weasley, by the way,” Potter suddenly said.

Draco turned cool eyes to him and saw that Potter, too, had begun to seem entertained by the situation.

“What?” Draco asked shortly.

“Rose’s last name is Granger-Weasley,” Potter informed him.

“As if Weasley didn’t sound bad enough.”

“Hey!” Ginny laughed, knocking her elbow against his.

Draco looked down at her, his lips twitching as he tried to hide his smirk. She caught it, though, shaking her head in amusement. He hoped the look they exchanged wasn’t noticed by the Golden Trio but when he turned his attention from Ginny he saw that Granger’s expression was knowing and Potter’s head was tilted in confusion.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to put Rose down but she kept her arms locked firmly around his neck. Bending awkwardly, Draco released his hold on her but she hung from him like a bloody monkey. Her arms were surprisingly strong for being so young.

“Looks like you’re stuck with her, Malfoy,” Granger told him, grinning.

Draco blinked in surprise as Ginny’s eyes and nose crinkled from smiling.

“Rosie, don’t you want to come with daddy?”

“No,” the girl said shortly, her arms tightening around Draco’s neck again.

“This is not how I planned on spending my Saturday,” the moron groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Me neither.”

Weasley gave a start as he stared at Draco. Was that the first time they had ever agreed on anything? Neck aching, Draco lifted the girl back into his arms and straightened. His bones cracked and he winced as he attempted to stretch.

“Come on, Teddy. Let’s get you over to the coach,” Potter said.

“I want to go with Teddy!” Rose cried out suddenly, wiggling hard until Draco put her down.

She darted after Potter and Teddy, her chubby legs pumping hard to catch up with them. When she got close, Potter reached for her hand and she gave it to him automatically.

“Well, that was short lived,” Draco muttered.

Though the lack of the weight in his arms was welcome, it forced him to realize his situation. Granger, Weasley, and Ginny were his only company now as they stood in a somewhat broken circle; Ginny and Draco stood to one side, Weasley and Granger on the other.

This would be the second day in a row that Draco spent time with his former classmates. And, perhaps even worse, Weasley wasn’t even glaring at him anymore. His attention was on his wife, pushing some of her bushy hair from her face affectionately. Draco looked to Ginny, who was bouncing on the balls of her feet as she watched the children with their tiny brooms.

Seeing this game would likely be the highlight of her week.

“We’ve set up chairs over here, if you want to join us,” Granger called, breaking Draco from his thoughts. “Ginny? Draco?”

The idiot narrowed his eyes at Draco but, other than that, didn’t comment. The Granger-Weasleys walked towards wherever they had set up camp, leaving him alone with Ginny. She followed her brother. Draco went to trail her but felt as though his feet had suddenly been cursed, freezing him in place. He tapped his fingers against his leg as he tried to think of what to say, his mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out.

Ginny stopped and turned when she realized he wasn’t beside her.

“Hey? You okay?”

She was so bloody tiny compared to him yet, in that moment as he contemplated what the fuck was happening to his life, he was completely aware of her. When Ginny took a step back towards him, concern coloring her face, he took a step backwards.

“Draco?”

“I’m going to leave.”

The four words made her freeze.

“What? Why?” It was clear she was thinking, and fast, before she let out a strangled laugh. “Oh, Draco, we don’t have to sit with them. It’s not a big deal—”

“That’s not it,” he interrupted.

Yes, it was. But he couldn’t let her know that. The last thing he wanted was for Potter and Weasley to realize they still made him nervous. Dinner at the Burrow was one thing; though the conversation was about him, the attention of the group was hardly on him. They bickered amongst themselves, entertained themselves, and left him off to the side. And he had been okay with that, as long as Ginny was there, watchful of her family’s banter. But this… this was different.

It was unacceptable, in a way.

Draco could be friends with Ginny, yes, they were coworkers and had to get along. And this? Her helping him? It certainly showed she was a better person than almost everyone else he associated with. But the Golden Trio was different. Spending time with them for the sake of Ginny, and Teddy, seemed ridiculous. What had happened to his morals and grudge holding? What would they think of him afterwards? Would they go back to the Ministry and tell everyone how Draco Malfoy now spent his days at little league games, seated in between them as though they had absolutely no past together?

Would everyone laugh over it?

Would someone mention it to Lucius, hoping to get a reaction from the once great man?

No, that was insane, that would never happen.

It didn’t stop the dread from weighing down Draco’s stomach as he thought on spending another minute in their presence. Even now, the idea of spending time with Ginny was tainted by the presence of the others. Draco shook his head.

“What is it?” she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m to meet up for a late lunch,” Draco lied, looking away from her. “With Astoria.”

The name of Draco’s ex came to him easily, despite the fact that they hadn’t spent much time together over the last few months. Their relationship had always been very on again/off again, though it was certainly more off than on recently. He wasn’t even surprised that he had said her name; if it had been his mother he was lying to, she would’ve been pleased over the thought that he was spending time with a woman she found acceptable.

Draco wasn’t lying to his mother, however.

If he would’ve been looking at Ginny, he would’ve seen the alarm that flashed across her face. He likely would’ve hesitated at the sight of it, confused and a bit concerned. He likely would’ve asked about it.

But Draco kept his gaze on the random people around them; the parents, the children, the coaches.

“A date?” her words were choked.

The strain in her voice made Draco’s eyes dart to her but she was looking at the ground, her hair shielding her face from him. After a second, Ginny looked up. She was smiling slightly but there was something… off about her expression. Draco couldn’t pinpoint it. Ginny began walking backwards from him.

“Have fun, then. I’ll tell Teddy you’re sorry for missing his game.”

Something was definitely wrong.

“Gin—”

She had already turned away from him, walking quickly to Granger and Weasley. Draco couldn’t make himself go after her so, instead, he looked to the field to try to spot Teddy. The little boy was talking rapidly to Potter and the coach, his hair matching his godfather’s in color and messiness. Frowning, Draco continued on his way. Teddy wouldn’t notice his absence, there were plenty other people here for him.

Yes. This was fine.

No need to feel as though he was choosing the coward’s way out by leaving.

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