The International Apparation terminal was almost empty, few opting for such an early morning departure. The big hall with the little raised platforms all held pictures of the next spot so you could imagine it as you transported yourself. An Apparition spell would only work a fairly short distance and you had to land on a few platforms in the Atlantic to get to America. This morning there was one registered traveller for the U.S, a Draco Malfoy. Return date - undetermined. It was the undetermined part that seemed to be causing the girl he was with some concern and their voices echoed eerily in the empty hall as he reassured her.

“I’ll be back, Ginny, I promise you.”

“You’ve told me before….I just…Do you really have to go?”

“We talked about this. I need to go. The business won’t take off without American involvement. I have to go.”

“You don’t have to. What if it stays a small company? That’s okay, we don’t need too much. Just you and me and a little house. Think about it, we could start our lives together, right now. We can leave here and just be a family. I want to be your family, Draco.”

He stepped down from the platform and hope lit in her caramel eyes.

“You will be my family, Ginny, I know it. But I have to do this. For us. I want to be able to give you a future, a real one. You deserve everything, so that’s what I’m going to get you.”

She gripped his arms, leaned closer.

“Draco, I don’t need everything, I don’t want everything. The only thing I want is you. Us.”

He wouldn’t have been able to imagine a year ago that this would be the reason he would hesitate to get his business off the ground. A year ago he had started his final year of school, to make up for the one he missed. Suddenly the girl he had been able to ignore most of the time as she was a year behind was in all his classes. It had taken a few weeks of term before attraction had won over stubbornness and another two months before the word love fell from Draco Malfoy’s lips.

In Ginny he had found a worthy opponent who would challenge him on everything he assumed. They would fight as much as they were at peace but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Except this.

She really did deserve better, he needed to be better. Once he was he would come back and he would marry Ginny Weasley.

“Ginny, I love you. We’ll make it through this. We’ll write everyday, I’ll even learn how to use a muggle telephone if I have to.”

Tears glittered in her eyes but she managed a weak smile.

“A telephone? You?”

“Anything, if it means I can talk to you.”

She drew a deep breath, her shoulders slumping.

“Promise me you’re coming back one more time?”

He tilted her head up,

“I promise.” He claimed her lips and as she clung to him he kissed her goodbye. He imagined he could already feel his heart tearing apart, one half getting left behind in Britain as he went.

“Sir, your Apparition window is open.”

Pulling apart he squeezed her hand before stepping back up on the platform.

“I love you, Ginny.” The last thing he saw before the expanse of the Atlantic around him was her face, tears streaming from her eyes as she mouthed,

“I love you too, Draco.”




o.O.o




Draco Malfoy woke with a start. Realizing he was in his own bed, in his own apartment, not in the British International Apparition Hall, he sunk back into the warm cocoon of his sheets.

Just a stupid dream.

He glanced over at the clock and gave up on the thought of catching a few more minutes of sleep. The alarm would go off in ten minutes anyway. With a sigh he got up. The longing for bed soon evaporated as he walked through the cool, luxurious air of his London apartment along with the remnants of the dream. Padding into the kitchen, with its deep sea-green tiles and granite worktops, he pushed the button on his coffee machine that would have been filled and prepared by the maid last night. It gurgled and sputtered and the wonderful scent of the elixir of life started spreading in the room.

Draco went over to his little kitchen TV, enchanted to work in his flat even with the interference of magic and switched it to the Muggle news. As the square-jawed man spoke in his succinct news anchor way of the plans for a new highway development Draco went for his newspapers. As he hated littering the owls of the Daily Prophet were instructed to deliver the paper to his mailbox, not actually come and find him. That meant his Muggle newspapers and magic newspapers always lay tidily side by side every morning on his doorstep. This morning was no different and collecting them he strode back down the hall.

As always he took pleasure in the perfection surrounding him. The cream colored walls were hung with unobtrusive but carefully chosen art and the dark antiques stood well against them.

Turning left back into the kitchen he tossed the papers on the table before getting a mug out of a cupboard. Pouring the coffee he inhaled deeply and felt his brain stirring in response. He was never really awake before his first cup. Taking a sip he felt energy spreading all the way to his fingertips. He’d never understand the wizarding world’s obsession with tea when there was coffee.

With a content sigh he sat down at the table and muted the TV before shaking the creases out of his papers. The front page earned a slanted smile as he read the article featuring the story of how his company was acquiring one of Britain’s largest corporations. It was well worth a smile though the price was astronomical - it was a bargain for what he was getting.

Seeing the stock reports starting to roll on the TV screen over the edge of the paper he turned the sound up and shifted his focus.

After his second cup of coffee and finishing his papers he went into the bedroom again. Glancing at the clock he was satisfied it only showed six am and grabbed sweatpants and a t-shirt before steering into his home gym.

His flat, though on the wizarding side, was inspired by its non-magic counterparts in London. If there was one thing Muggles were good at, it was taking care of themselves. And all it took to achieve was money. He had plenty of money.

As he got on his treadmill to warm up he thought back to how his life had changed since he first entered the muggle world. Right out of school he had used the remnants of the Malfoy fortune, with his father’s blessing, to set up a company in the wizarding world. It had gone over well, earning him a small but steady income and allowing him to spend his free time with Ginny. Rather soon it had become obvious that the British wizarding world was too small for his ambition and he’d decided to set his sight on the empire of enterprise, America. It had taken a while to convince Ginny but in the end she had agreed, wanting him to have all he wanted. She would still be at the Healers’ College for another two years and once he was back they would pick up where they’d left off.

He had fully intended to, back then. But America had proved a challenge, one he enjoyed and diving deeper and deeper into a world full of ambition, adrenaline and high stakes, Ginny had slowly faded from his everyday. Fights had crept into more and more of their conversations and in the end they’d broken it off. He’d sat after that, stunned and disbelieving.

He’d gone so far as to pack his bags to go back when an emergency at the office had called him back to reality. The only thing that would help him not think of Ginny was work and work he did. Until she was little but a hazy memory of back when he had been someone else.

In America he had discovered just how much he enjoyed the dealing and the wheedling. He liked finding leverage and loopholes in thorny contracts. He’d started to love the game of it. Each deal was like the seduction of a woman to him. You found out what she liked, showered her in attention, told her what she wanted to hear. And in return you got what you wanted. Then you moved on to the next deal. Soon Malfoy Holdings Ltd had been one of the largest companies in the wizarding world with interests ranging from agriculture, property, manufacturing to travelling, publishing and restaurants, spanning nations.

It had been the dream company, what he had always wanted. And living in it he had been bored to death. Restless, antsy, feeling limited by his surroundings. His days at the office had become shorter and shorter as all business now took care of itself.

Facing retired life at twenty-six he had been afraid for the first time since he took up the director’s chair. Afraid of boredom. That fear was what had driven him to the Muggle world for the first time. Compared to the wizarding world the Muggle world was endless. The possibilities grew like weeds every day, the environment changing as quickly as cut flowers would wilt.

So he had decided his next challenge. Returning to Britain to venture into it from a place he knew he had found himself nervous for the first time in years standing in the Leaky Cauldron six years ago. It had been exhilarating. He had relished that just stepping out into it was a leap and squaring his shoulders he had ventured out.

Dressed in what the salesman from Gladrags assured him was the height of fashion for Muggles he had looked around in wonder at the bizarre mix of people rushing by. Though they were all dressed differently it didn’t take him long to figure out he was not indeed dressed as a normal Muggle at the height of fashion. Everyone he saw seemed to be wearing blue trousers of some variety but he had no problem spotting the businessmen as they wore something similar to formal robes. Seeing an advert for it in a window he learned they were called suits. He could have gone into the store and bought the closest thing on a rack but after the mishap of being dressed weirdly enough to have people stare at him he was not in a hurry to repeat that mistake.

Making up his mind he had grabbed the arm of a man passing him. That was before he had learnt that the sense of entitlement he had a birthright to in the wizarding world didn’t necessarily translate to the Muggle side. Luckily this man didn’t seem to mind and all he did was pull his sunglasses down so they rested on the tip of his long nose and give Draco a once over. In a slow, deliberate way that Draco had rarely experienced from a man.

“Excuse me, can you who sells the best suits in town?”

“That would be Savile Row, honey.” The man gave him an appraising look, “but they’re quite expensive.” Deciding to ignore the fact the man had referred to him as “honey” out of politeness, Draco stated,

“Money’s not a problem.” He’d had a ridiculous amount of money exchanged in Gringott’s for the funny paper money Muggles used. It was strange to not have the comforting weight of galleons at his side.

“My favorite sentence in the world. You’re not from…around here, are you?” The man gave his clothes another once over and his lip curled in disgust.

“No.”

“And have you ever been to London before?”

“No.” At least not Muggle London.

“You poor thing. Well, never say I’m not a fashion humanitarian. I’ll take you to Savile Row. It’s just around the corner.” Then to his astonishment the man had taken him by the hand and led him like a child. If this man was anything to go by he would struggle doing business on this side. In a few minutes they had reached a quiet street lined with what even Draco’s untrained eye could distinguish as upper end men’s fashion. The connoisseur in him started to drool a little over the fine fabrics on display. Soft wool, fine silk, hand woven cotton. With deliberate moves the man led him into the cool air of one of the stores. He a glanced back over his shoulder.

“With your build, sweets, it can only be Italian.” Inside Draco could smell leather and expensive cologne. He inhaled deeply and looked around.

“Excuse me, this is an emergency.” The man pulling him hailed an assistant who was paid just enough to only let his eyes widen a fraction before he got his facial muscles under control when he saw what Draco was wearing.

“Of course.” It really sounded like, ‘Yes, I can see it’s an emergency’. “What did you have in mind, sir?”

“Well, my friend er…” He looked back at Draco expectantly.

“Draco. Draco Malfoy.”

“For real? You poor thing,” the man said and his nose wrinkled slightly and patted his arm as if this was something to be comforted over. “My friend…Dray, here, as you can see is in grave need of assistance. From looking at him, I’d say Armani, 40 long, maybe try a light grey with a pearl white shirt and a good tie? Nothing flashy.”

“Certainly. This way Mr. Malfoy. Will you be joining us Mr…?” The salesman enquired and he must’ve seen the slight panic in Draco’s eyes. So he nodded.

“Yes, I will. I never miss a makeover. And you can just call me Jimmy.” Once in the suit he had bought (for a price that had made even him raise his eyebrows as he quickly converted the sum to galleons in his head) Draco felt better. As a sign of gratitude he’d asked Jimmy if he wanted some money for his help but the man had just laughed at him and then told him he could buy him lunch.

That had been the beginning of Draco’s first real friendship. With Jimmy as a guide he had learnt many of the wonders of the Muggle world and after six months he had bought his first Muggle company. The thrill had suddenly been back. The chase had started again and he felt alive. Six years later he spent his working days on the Muggle side, managing a company easily twice the size of his wizarding one.

This particular day was full of meetings, a conference call and final discussions on the acquisition. Unless he got sidetracked with work he was rounding the day off having dinner with an heiress to a big dairy company. All in all, a good day.

Stepping off the treadmill he switched to the weights wall and turned his mind to the work ahead.




o.O.o




He only realized it was Christmas Eve when he remembered it had been two months of hearing annoying jingly music playing in every blessed place he went. That and his employees muttering something about it when he called for an emergency last meeting about the acquisition. That meant dinner with his mother at the Manor tomorrow. He sighed. His mother deeply disapproved of his dealings in the Muggle world and listening to her gently try and nudge him towards a “respectable” paper-pushing job in his wizarding firm was tiresome. And he’d have to pick up a gift for her. The one Muggle thing his mother allowed was fashion. She had a weak spot for Chanel that no maternal disapproval could tame. Maybe he could get Jimmy to pick something. He really didn’t have the time.

“Mr. Malfoy?” He must have missed his secretary knocking on the door as she was right next to him when she spoke. Looking up he saw her leaning over the desk, her strict suit making her look like an upside down exclamation point, widest at the top.

“Mr. Malfoy there’s a Jenny Weasley on the line for you. She says it’s a personal call?” His secretary sounded mildly surprised at this as the only person to ever call his business line was Jimmy. His mother wouldn’t condescend to use a “muggle contraption” to contact her son.

“It’s Ginny. Ginny Weasley. Tell her I’m in a meeting.”

She picked up the receiver and spoke, in her cool, cultivated phone voice.

“Mr. Malfoy is in a meeting right now. Can I take a message?” Scribbling something on a post it his secretary nodded, her earring clicking against the receiver.

“I will pass on your message, thank you for calling Malfoy Holdings, Miss Weasley.” Hanging up her face was about as surprised as her botox treatments would allow her to look. “Miss Weasley would like me to tell you she’s moving abroad shortly and she’s found some of your things packing up the flat. If you would like to pick them up, here’s her address and if not she’ll give them to a charity shop.” Wide eyed she pushed the post it note over to him.

“Right. I’ll just let her throw it out.”

“Really? Do you know what it is?”

“No idea. That was a long time ago.”

“I still can’t believe you have ever been so serious about someone you’d leave stuff at her place. Was this before you sold your soul?” She smiled sweetly and he chuckled.

“It was. But I got a damn good price for it.”

“So I see.” She gestured to the elegant corner office. “Are you sure you’re not going to go get the stuff? See her? She must’ve meant a lot to you once.”

“Old girlfriends are like old newspapers – when you’re finished with them, leave them be so they can be recycled.”

“God, you’re horrible. Must be why I like you. Anyway, you have her address and I’d hurry if I were getting my things, sounded like she was calling from abroad already.”

With that she sashayed out. From abroad, huh? So she was living on the wizarding side still – magical interference would often cause what Muggles thought sounded like long distance calls.

He leaned back in his desk chair, spun it to look out over the London cityscape. Had he done it more often he could have known it was holiday season earlier as tacky lights were strung all over the place.

Christmas, again.

Every year it would remind him of the Christmas he’d spend saying goodbye to Ginny Weasley in the drafty Apparition Hall. Somehow it seemed to mark the beginning of his life as it was now. The last time he’d seen her.

If they had worked out in the end he’d probably be in the middle of a Burrow Christmas on the 25th. Full of off-key singing and too many people and forced jolliness. Thousands of noisy red-haired children. With Ginny smiling at him, her deep brown eyes shining as she ran her hand through his hair like she used to…

Shaking his head he sat up straight. What the hell was he doing sitting in his corner office daydreaming of memories of a stupid, short, teenage crush? It had been a lapse of judgment. Months of it. Months of madness, a passion he’d never experienced before or after.

What was her business calling him at the only time of year when he still thought about her anyway? Still, she had been so long ago. It hardly mattered now. Especially not now. He had a board of shareholders to cajole into compliance.




o.O.o




When he left the meeting, after a resounding vote in his favor, he opted to not take the car. The air was cold and he would be able to enjoy a peaceful London for once. Walking home the streets were empty. Everyone was tucked in their homes eating Christmas dinner and watching lame specials on the telly. But as his meeting had gone well he conceded to give in to a little Christmas spirit. Get some eggnog, some rum and have a little party. Stepping into the only open store for miles he wished he’d just gone home and had his customary whisky.

Inside was a man pointing a gun at the terrified cashier. Discreetly Draco let his wand slide down his sleeve and muttered a stunning spell. To his surprise the cashier froze while the man with the gun just turned.

“That won’t work on me, Slick.” The man, he saw now, looked like a vagrant in shabby clothes and sporting a long white beard for a disguise. A santa beard, ironically. To Draco he looked like how Dumbledore might have looked if he’d been homeless. Though he was clearly mentally unstable and holding a gun it galled Draco to be called Slick. So he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“They never have much cash in those. You picked the wrong place.”

“Oh, I’m not here for money.”

“No?” Draco nodded to the gun still pointed to the muggle cashier’s chest.

“No. I’m here to make him reassess his priorities.” He looked back to Draco for a moment. “Money’s not everything, you know.”

“It’s a lot.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Look at yourself, how can you say money doesn’t matter? Do you have a place to stay? Food to eat?” He raised an eyebrow.

“When I choose. But I have something much more important.”

“What’s more important than money?” The man angled his head and shuffled closer, abandoning the still frozen muggle.

“I wonder…” He peered up at Draco with dark, surprisingly intelligent eyes. “Maybe I wasn’t sent here for him, but for you…Yes, yes, I think I might be…”

“Sent here to do what for me? By whom?”

“Sent to reassess your priorities.” Then everything turned black.

He felt another body move in the bed and frowned. He didn’t remember bringing anyone home. He opened his eyes fully and blinked in surprise. He hadn’t brought anyone home.

He wasn’t even home.

This room was much smaller than his bedroom, with honey colored walls and worn, meant to be white furniture. He went home with someone? That was rare. Rarer even, was that he couldn’t remember it. Gently he nudged the duvet down and saw a flannel clad shoulder, along with a mass of red curls. No woman he usually spent time with would sink low enough sleep in something so unflattering.

“Just five more minutes, Draco.” The figure murmured and turned, slinging an arm over him and burrowing her head on his chest.

He could only gape. All the women he slept with knew his strict no cuddling policy. He only dated women who had no intention of getting serious, like him. Women who knew his rules and both appreciated and followed them, some even having similar rules of their own.

Before he could shrug the unknown woman off, the sound of a raging stampede interrupted him. Then he felt something heavy land on him before all hell broke loose. There was screeching, barking and what he thought was a demon singing with joy. Something about bells, a bat man and eggs. He sat up, wishing he knew where his wand was so he could defend himself.

The noise turned out to be caused by a giant, slobbering dog, along with two small demons clad in footie pajamas. He rolled out of the bed and stood up, appalled. He never dated women with children. The one exception had been a Mediterranean beauty who liked to hand her children over to a nanny and go for long drives in her Mercedes. And this was definitely not she.

“Mummy, mummy, mummy!” The two children swarmed over the lump under the duvet.

“I’m up, I’m up.” Then from under the covers Ginny Weasley appeared. Had he lost his mind last night? He had to have gotten monumentally drunk if this was where he went. And he didn’t know she had children.

Pausing slightly he peered at the little demons. For children they were rather cute, he supposed, the bigger one a blond boy with deep brown eyes and the smaller one a girl with red curls and bright grey eyes. She’d be a heartbreaker one day, for sure.

“Daddy! Santa’s hewe!” The little boy said, eyes shining like he’d found the answer to world peace. The girl, Ginny in miniature, crawled over to him. Seeing her about to crawl over the edge of the bed, he held his arms out in reflex to stop a concussion and the little girl fell into his arms. Her little legs kicked in the air with excitement and she laughed.

“Santa, daddy! Pwesents!” the boy repeated and bounced again. How long had he been out of it? Daddy? What in the name of Merlin’s underpants was going on here? Were these kids high or something?

Putting the little girl back on the bed, he said to no one in particular, “I have to go.” He grabbed whatever was close and hurried out. Luckily, there was a car in the driveway with keys for it conveniently in the pocket of the trousers he’d found. He had to drive as far away as possible from this hellish place, wherever he was.




o.O.o




Numb, he sat in the car. He’d driven all the way into London, after he’d figured out which tiny little village he was in. Someplace called Ottery St Catchpole. What kind of name was that anyway?

He’d gone to his house, his office, even tried his wizarding office. No one recognized him and his company name was nowhere to be found. The only explanation was some weird alternate reality. A reality where he lived with Ginny Weasley, had two children, a slobbery dog, a small house in a tiny village and wore flannel shirts.

That was the next sad discovery. When he’d finally regained his wits for long enough to look down he’d seen a flannel shirt over a long sleeved tee that maybe once upon a time had been white. Faded jeans with a stain on the knee and to finish the embarrassment off - hiking boots. Hiking boots. It had to be some twisted curse.

He clearly remembered finishing the meeting with the board of shareholders. Then he had decided to walk home. And yet he had woken up in a mental institution where the delusional inmates were convinced he was the man of the house. A dad. A husband. It was absurd. Could it be a brain tumor? Had he gotten a spike through his head like that famous case of personality change due to brain damage? And only now he realized it? What year was it anyway?

A quick rapping on his car window interrupted his personal inner rant. He jumped and peeked out to see a jovial face filling up most of it.

“Dray.”

Nobody called him Dray but Jimmy and this was most assuredly not his friend, the fashionable East Londoner. This man looked round, friendly and had brown curling hair that looked as if he cut it himself, with his eyes closed.

“What the hell are you doing sitting here? Ginny called in a state thinking you’d been kidnapped or the like.”

He could only keep staring. He didn’t know who this was. He was positive they’d never met.

“Who are you?”

“Are you okay there, Dray? You’re kind of pale. You can tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know who you are. I live in London. I’m a CEO. I own a multimillion pound corporation. You have me confused with someone else.”

“As if,” the man snorted. “Draco Malfoy, married thirteen years, salesman, father of two, more like. Listen, I know sometimes it hits you. You’re no longer young, you can’t just jump on the closest plane and dance with hot twenty-somethings on the beach in Bermuda. You have people who depend on you.” The man leaned companionably on the car door, still talking through the car window. “But that passes. Do you remember last year when I was about to have that thing with Billy’s swim teacher? Do you remember what you said?”

“No?” Draco wondered if the wild desperation in his tone was as obvious to the other man as it was to him.

“You told me not to throw away the best part of my life 'cause I was feeling middle-aged and insecure.”

Everything inside Draco objected to the term middle-aged. And why had the schmuck who apparently was his doppelganger not told his “friend” to go for it? A swim teacher sounded hotter than a wife.

“Er…”

“Come on, I’ll get you a drink and walk you home.”

A drink! The first sensible proposition he’d heard all morning. Like a duckling following its mother he trailed after the big man.

Inside the house and down the basement stairs, Draco had stop and blink in shock. The man had to be seriously visually impaired. There was no other credible reason why this…room (and that was a generous term, he thought) in the basement would have a carpet the color of vomit and leather (as if) armchairs in the hue of dog poo. And that was just before you saw the walls. Striped, in green and brown with assorted, mismatched sports paraphernalia plastered all over them. The only thing that made sense in the room was the tacky bar.

The man ushered him in and pushed him down in one of the armchairs before he could protest and a suspicious tang of cheese wafted up as he sat. He’d bet there were cheese crisps enough to fill a new bag hidden in the depths of the chair.

“Here. The good stuff, since its Christmas.” Draco didn’t much care if it had been 100-year-old vintage whisky as he knocked it back. The burn helped clear his head. And made him realize it definitely not was “good stuff”, at least not by his standards. But the man was obviously in a less comfortable financial situation than himself. So he summoned his manners and cleared his throat of the rough fare.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime. Ready to go home? Ginny’s worried sick.”

Home? He wished with all his heart that would mean his airy London apartment and his mother’s dreary Christmas dinner. The man took his silence for approval and almost poured him out of the cheese-chair. Realizing what the man had just said, Draco voiced a beginning dread.

“Ginny?”

“That’s right, let’s get you back to Ginny and the kids.”

“Ginny is my wife.”

“Just keep saying it.”

“Ginny Weasley is my wife.”

“Well, Ginny Malfoy now, you lucky dog, since thirteen years.”

He almost fainted. Ginny Malfoy?

On the way out, being virtually pushed to the door, Draco stopped short. On the wall, framed and hung in the place of honor, was a picture of him and the man next to him, sitting in front of the tacky bar. Smiling and holding beers in a toast to the camera. Under it he recognized his own handwriting, “Bob, may we have many pints at this bar, and remember since I helped build it I’ll drink for free. Your friend, Dray.” Bob? He, Draco Malfoy, built that ugly thing? With his hands and - Merlin only knew what - tools? He didn’t even change light bulbs in his flat, what the heck was wrong with this man who looked like him yet was so completely different? This universe’s Draco Malfoy built things and had friends named Bob who were suburban dads with man caves in the basement. All of a sudden, he felt sick. Bob, as his name apparently was, just cheerily dragged him along like a child with a teddy bear in hand and in a few minutes they stood in front of the house he had left that morning.

“In you go, D.”

He walked up to the door like a man walking to his execution. Before he could knock the door swung open with force and Ginny Weasley, still wearing flannel pajamas and a look of absolute fury stood in front of him. She pulled him close in a hug and memories assaulted his senses as he picked up the scent of her hair, the feel of her skin.

“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”

For some reason, what shocked him most wasn’t seeing her again, or the hug, it was the telephone she was clutching. The darling of the wizarding world was, in this universe, his wife and they were living in the muggle world. And she used phones. Bizarre. The way he figured he had been switched into this reality by accident, the other (pathetic) Draco Malfoy who lived here was probably in his apartment blessing his luck. But until they could be switched back, he couldn’t give too much away.

“….I’m sorry.” If the poor guy was married to her, he’d better not make things too bad for him. In his experience, women always needed to hear sorry.

“You should be. Liam opened the game it took you two weeks to enchant and you didn’t even get to see his face.”

Was Liam the kid? And why would anyone enchant games themselves? There were professionals who would do that for you. He was fairly sure he owned a company that specialized in it, in fact.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Why did you leave?” She turned and went into the kitchen. She picked up her wand and pointed it at the kettle on the counter that instantly merrily boiled away. With measured movements she took out a cup, a tea bag and a spoon, making sure to put them down with a little more force than necessary.

“I had to…”

“Yes? What was so important you had to rush out and leave your family on Christmas morning?”

“Ginny,” he started using his most serious voice that tended to convince even the most pessimistic of his shareholders he could solve any crisis that came along. His reasonable voice. “I don’t live here. We’re not married and these are not my children.”

“Don’t joke with me now, Draco, I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not, I think I may be in a different dimension of some sort where..."

She slammed her cup down on the counter. It may have been thirteen years since he saw it, but he knew that the look she gave him was the signal to fight or flee. So he returned to his earlier strategy.

“I’m sorry I missed Christmas morning.”

Some of the tension left her shoulders and Draco mentally gave himself a high five.

Then the demon yelling began again. Ginny didn’t flinch or move an inch, just gave him a look over the rim of her teacup.

“Don’t try the innocent act with me. It’s your turn. Go on up.” He realized the noise was coming from one of those baby walkie-talkies that was sitting on the counter. His turn to do what? Turn the volume down on it?

Hoping providence would send help, he went up the stairs.

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

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

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

“Mister, where’s my dad?”

Sharp kid. No one else had spotted it.

“I don’t know.”

“Will he be back?”

“Yes.” Please Merlin.

“Where are you from?”

“London.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Burrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Long day?”

“The longest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only for the last thirteen years, Draco.”

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

o.O.o

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

The nightmare was over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since…Ginny.

“Ah…the baby…Evie, she’s crying.”

“Mmm?”

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

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

“But I…”

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

o.O.o

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

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

“Liam, where do I work?”

Turning back the little boy answered,

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

“I’m a salesman?”

“Yes.”

“How did I end up as a salesman?”

Liam shrugged.

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

Liam shrugged again.

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

o.O.o

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

o.O.o

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

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

Draco sat up straight.

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

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

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

Ginny came rushing into the bedroom, her eyes bright.

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

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

“So it is.”

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

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

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

“I was watching that!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so beautiful.”

She smiled and a faint blush warmed her cheeks.

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

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

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

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

Then she rushed into the bathroom and was gone.

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

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

If Draco were to be asked to describe hell he knew after this day he would be able to tell this person hell on earth was disguised as a shopping center. Jostled by the crowd, having his eardrums assaulted by the screaming of children and being visually tortured by people in cheap, ill-fitting clothes who clearly thought a monitored calorie intake and exercise were only meant for others was apparently some masochists’ idea of a good time.

Ginny was pushing a stroller with a sleeping Evie and holding an inexplicably excited Liam’s hand as she maneuvered the crowds. Unlike all other mothers he had seen in shopping center so far she was neither harried nor annoyed and red-faced. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself. Clearly she had some missing screws.

“So, Liam, should we go look at new shoes for you?”

“Will I get a cookie if I go?”

“Your father taught you that one.” Ginny sent him an amused glance and Draco grumbled,

“I most certainly did not.”

As if on cue Evie woke up with a delighted cry.

“COOKIE!” Bouncing excitedly the baby chanted “cookie, cookie, cookie” in a sing song voice and Ginny laughed.

“I guess that settles it. Shoes, then a cookie.”

Stopping in his tracks Draco was pulled, as if by an invisible force, into the store they were passing. The inside was cool and empty and drawing a sigh of relief he passed under the sign spelling “Emporio Armani”. In a small way he felt like he’d just come home. Steering directly for this season’s charcoal Draco barely heard Ginny speak behind him.

“That would look great on you.” He knew it would, the same one hung in his walk-in closet in his London flat.

“I’m going to get it.”

“You do that. While you drool over that I’ll take Liam to get those shoes.”

When she returned he was wearing the full suit, as well as a shirt and was instructing the salesman on the alterations needed. Ginny met his eyes in the mirror.

“It does look fantastic on you, Draco.”

“Your husband was made to wear Armani, Mrs…?”

“Malfoy. I’m sure he likes to think so.” She smiled at the attendant before sidling up to him, leaning closer. “Draco, this suit is two thousand pounds. You’re not actually thinking of buying it, are you?”

“I am. I earned this suit.” He turned in front of the mirror, admiring the familiar way the fabric fell. He had earned it, damn it. Waking up every day to the screaming of the little demons, dealing with baby crap, dog crap, nurseries and being a damn salesman. He needed one little thing to remind him this wasn’t actually his life.

“What’s gotten into you? You know we can’t afford this.”

“Why? Because you’ve decided to work non-profit? Because I’m in a dead-end, ridiculous job working for your father as a salesman? Why, Ginny? Why in the name of Merlin are we living like this?”

“I’m sorry you feel that your life is such a hardship, Draco.” She rolled her eyes. “Now will you take that off and come home? I’ll buy you a cookie.”

“I don’t want a damn cookie!” He exploded. “I want to have my old life back! I want to have things, I want to be somebody!”

Taken aback, Ginny took a step backwards as if to shield Liam and Evie.

“You are somebody! You’re my husband, though sometimes lately it doesn’t feel like it! You’re Liam’s and Evie’s father!”

The attendant fluttered his hands uselessly, clearly not sure if he should interfere or not.

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do for me! I can’t believe you of all people would let me become this!”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Evie’s bottom lip began to tremble.

“Who are you? If you need that suit so badly then why don’t you just take it out of our children’s university fund, huh? Or how about from some of the mortgage payments?” She hissed, before turning on her heel and striding out the store, a wide-eyed Liam getting pulled along.

“Ah…should I put it aside for you, sir?”


o.O.o


The silence in the car was deafening and he could see though Ginny wouldn’t look at him that she was seething. The tense shoulders, the jerky movements. She was holding off the storm for as long as the children were sleeping in the backseat. Sighing to himself he wondered how it was that in any universe he had the skill to push all her buttons. And she his.

She didn’t always bring out the best in him, she made him too mad to but she’d always managed to get the truth, as ugly as it may be. He supposed this one was pretty ugly. He’d made her think her husband hated his life. And all right, he probably did, but that wasn’t this Draco’s job to say.

“Ginny…I…I’m sorry. About before. I didn’t really mean what I said.”

“Then why say it, Draco?”

“I just…” He had to be careful. The woman had a built-in lie detector so he couldn’t flat out spin a story. “I just sometimes wonder how we ended up here. It seems like yesterday when we got together.” In some ways.

Finally a small smile broke through, like a sunbeam through storm clouds.

“Really? I feel like that was so long ago.”

“No, trust me, it wasn’t. I mean getting together, and then moving into that tiny flat while you were studying and I was setting up my business…” That had to have been the same, right?

“I loved that flat,” she sighed.

“It was miniscule. It had mice.”

“It was cozy. And so close to everything.”

“Maybe we should have stayed…” He fished while keeping his eyes on the road.

“You know it wasn’t convenient once you started working for dad.”

He glanced at her and hoped he didn’t sound studiously innocent.

“Oh, right. Back when…”

“When he had his heart attack. It was great the way you, Harry and Ron all stepped up and took turns to run it. Who would’ve known you’d actually enjoy it?”

“Who knew!” He enjoyed it? He’d lost count how many things were wrong with the Draco Malfoy in this universe but this had to take the prize. He enjoyed peddling kettles to old ladies day after day? Refunding people because things “didn’t work” when they hadn’t plugged them in? He liked to sell chewing gum that “did nothing special at all”?

“Yeah, you came back after your first sale, a fire in your eyes to do it again. I think you said it was the wheedling and the dealing of it. Personally I think it’s the Slytherin in you – manipulating people until they think they can’t live without a magically enhanced blender.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Me? I’d never.” She smiled and looked out the window and he chuckled. That smile, the one she’d give him while she teased him, that had always been his favorite one on her.

“So you don’t think we’ve… I…failed? I promised you everything once.”

She turned back to him, put a hand on his knee.

“Draco, you have given me everything.” Ginny glanced back at the children sleeping in the back seat. “You used to have that thing, when you were younger, about how you wanted to be the person people envied. But you’ve forgotten that even though we don’t have a Land Rover or a villa in France, people still do. What we have is special.” She tilted her head and squeezed his knee. “Do you think what we have happens every day?”


o.O.o


Up until this day Draco Malfoy had not known what bowling meant. After finding out he had decided he would happily continue to live in ignorance. He supposed they referred to it as a sport in the way chess was a sport. It took little to no effort and most of the time you appeared to be sitting, drinking beer thus negating the point of the “exercise” in the first place. Rather than burning calories you appeared to be amassing them while listening to mind-numbing conversation a la suburban dads. So far they had covered someone’s new roof and how much that was going to cost, the pains of explaining fractions to your kids and the chances of some muggle sports team beating another in yet another muggle sport, called cricket. If it was anything like bowling Draco wished them the best of luck in their not so taxing trial.

Every so often conversation would circle back to wives and long-suffering sighs and a dragged out “women” in exasperated tones would bounce like balls between them.

First of all, Draco didn’t think any of the men appeared like a great catch and was leaning towards telling them all they should all crawl home and thank their wives on their bended knees for putting up with – and sadly he knew all of it from the meandering chitchat – halitosis, hammertoes, thinning hair, expanding waists and what appeared to him as a complete and utter lack of imagination and appeal. The damn women, however annoying they sounded, ought to be sainted.

That was the second point. He had considered Ginny the height of annoyance, like a hair on your tongue or an itchy label in your shirt but it appeared she played in the minor league of wifely irritations. She had yet to do anything the other men had described. And she didn’t wear jeans with elastic waistbands, which was apparently a plague on the female race around here.

“So, Dray, you’re pretty quiet tonight. No horror stories to share?”

Bob slung a companionable arm around his shoulders and Draco tried not to push it off. No point in insulting Alternative Draco’s best friend.

“You know he never does. He and Ginny are still like newlyweds, aren’t you? All lovey-dovey and cute.”

Everything in Draco objected to the term “lovey-dovey”. He had never, and would never, stoop low enough to have anyone refer to any of his actions as lovey-dovey.

“He still brings her flowers, you know.”

A good-natured chuckle, like he was a bit lacking in basic understanding, circled the table.

“A model husband, our Dray here is.”

Shrugging off Bob’s arm – and hopefully stopping the man’s body odor from spreading even further – Draco put his plastic cup down. As if it weren’t revolting enough to spend time in a place where you wore communal shoes he was also forced to drink lukewarm lager tasting of the keg from recyclables. They might as well install a tap at the table and let him drink by lying underneath it with his mouth open.

“I’m getting another beer.” Getting up he left the other men on his “team” sniggering like fifteen year old girls in a bathroom and steered for the bar. Avoiding leaning against it as he imagined he might actually get stuck to wood veneer he ordered and sighed. Was this Alternative Draco’s idea of a good time? Wearing polyester shirts and sweating along with seven other men while complaining about his insurance premiums, the price of petrol and petty insults from his wife?

“Hey, Dray.” A woman of around his age wearing clothes so tight they could have been painted on her spoke at a tone he would peg as an octave lower than her normal speaking voice as she leaned against the bar.

“Hi…” He had no idea who she was. If they’d ever met in this reality, he’d forgotten.

“Your game’s a bit off, have you been sick?”

“In a manner of speaking.” He accepted the beer from the bar man and took comfort from the fact that though the cup was plastic, it at least meant he didn’t have to touch a glass that had been “washed” on the premises.

“Poor you.” She put a hand on his arm and leaned closer, managing to press her rather impressive breasts against him in the process. “I’d be happy to bring something by to cheer you up.” Her eyes darted to his face from under lowered lashes. The way she said “something” sounded much like she’d show up naked and wrapped in cellophane at his door.

“I doubt Ginny would like that very much.”

Leaning back the woman pouted slightly.

“Maybe she doesn’t have to know.” For a moment he was tempted. She really was not his type, too obvious, too needy, too everything. But he was in a serious dry spell as he still hadn’t been able to overcome his moral objections of sleeping with Ginny while she didn’t know he wasn’t her husband. The woman next to him would offer a simple solution.

He caught a glimpse of the wedding band on his hand and sighed internally. Though he was not actually married to Ginny, and could have sex with this woman without qualms, Alternative Draco was. And if someone were to find out, as the woman next to him seemed less than discreet this appeared a likely turn of events then Alternative Draco and his marriage would suffer. And however much of a schmucky idiot Alternative Draco was he had to love his wife a lot to put up with the suicide inducing life they were leading. He couldn’t break that for a quick tryst with a needy bottle blonde.

“Thanks for the offer but I think I’ll get my cheering up from my wife.” He’d bet that’s what Alternative Draco would say too. Idiot.

“Sure. But one of these days, Dray. One of these days…”

She sauntered past with a smoldering look and he let out a quiet breath. In a moment of sympathy for the Neanderthals at the team table he muttered,

“Women!”

Bob, returning from the men’s room weaved through the crowd (why was there a crowd? There had to be better things to do than this. Anything, really) and joined him at the bar.

“Was that Josie Pearce striding off spurned again?”

Was that her name?

“I guess so.” He took a sip of his beer. The more he drank of it the less it seemed to taste like stale bread and still water.

“She’s tenacious, you’ve got to give her that. Don’t know how many times you’ve rejected her.”

“Really.” He tried to not make it into a question.

“Yeah, never gives up. I think it’s less about you now and more about winning over Ginny.”

“Winning over Ginny?”

“Come on, Dray. Ginny’s gorgeous, and she doesn’t try as hard as Josie. Every man from here to Cramond Road would give their right hand to be with Ginny. She’s funny, she’s smart, she’s well liked. I think Josie just wants to prove a point by getting you into bed.”

“You’re probably right.” He sipped his beer again. It almost tasted good this time. “So you’re telling me everyone in this town wants my wife?” It felt good, he realized. Good to know that though he was dirt-poor and his house was a glorified shed men still envied him something.


o.O.o


Feeling almost chipper after the revelation he was someone others wanted to be Draco entered his glorified shed. A tiny hall opened into an open plan kitchen, dining and living room, currently grating on Draco’s senses because it was dusty and cluttered. Liam’s indoor trike – Merlin help him, he knew what a trike was now – and Evie’s play gym as well as an assortment of toys spread from the children’s corner like a disease. On the coffee table newspapers and magazines were heaped and by the door a mountain of shoes acted as a trip hazard.

Feeling the somewhat cheery mood evaporate he stalked in, past Ginny who was once again wearing a huge woolly sweater, this time one of Alternative Draco’s. She’d ruin the structure of it. Wool sweaters were a serious business. He caught himself. The fourteen-pounds Gladrags garment was less than likely to have any structure. Let her try and ruin what he had already overrated in referring to it as a sweater. At least it looked quite appealing on her.

Shaking his head to clear that particular thought he checked the fridge for his cake. He’d left it as a treat knowing he’d need cheering up after socializing with his so called peers.

“Have you seen my…” Turning to face her he saw Ginny’s face was the picture of innocence as she delicately ate a bite of cake. He noted she was doing the house accounts and did briefly think to look those over anyone would need cake. Or something stronger. “…cake.”

“Do you mean this cake?” She spooned up some more.

“Yes, that cake. It’s mine, I was saving it.”

“Well, Draco you know what they say. You snooze you lose.”

“Give it back, I want it.”

“Nuh-uh. I only promised to love and cherish, not to share cake. It means too much to me.”

“Fine.” He threw up his hands. “Fine.” Feinting turning away he dove after her and with a laugh she was up, bringing the plate as she ran.

He just stood still. Was the woman absolutely raving mad? He closed the fridge door with a clank. He wanted that damn cake.

Setting off after her he heard her bubbling laugh and took a left, skidded on the rug and caught his balance. Ahead Ginny was running in place as she took a bite of the cake.

Regaining his balance she skipped off like a doe in headlights and he turned on his heel to cut her off in the hall.

Spotting her ahead she sent him a brilliant smile over her shoulder and to his surprise he felt laughter of his own spilling over his lips. It seemed to turn a key, open a door to the past. He remembered now, she’d always been able to make him laugh. She’d always been able to drive him up the wall as well, but she’d been the only person he’d ever known to make him laugh the way he was now.

“Oops, finished!” Ginny swung around, the plate in her hand now completely cake-less.

“Oh, come on!”

Skidding again when he stopped he all but crashed into her and bracing his hands on either side of her head he made the mistake of looking down to meet her eyes. They were sparkling with humor, a smile dancing on her lips. A small crumb of chocolate was stuck to her bottom lip.

“I’ll just have to taste it on you then.” Capturing her lips he felt her sigh against him and Ginny wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Her lips moved against his, sweet and soft and his insides quaked. Alternative Draco was suddenly wiped from his mind, only the Draco that had been, the one who loved Ginny in his place. She was suddenly his Ginny again, not Alternative Draco’s wife, but his. A groan tore from him and deepening the kiss he felt her respond, push against him and wrap her legs around him. It was a gesture so familiar his dazed brain wondered for a moment if he had travelled back in time.

“Tell me, Draco. Tell me you love me.” Her breahts brushed over his ear and he stilled. Suddenly yanked into the present like he had been Portkeyed he stuttered,

“I…” A wail erupted upstairs and with a chuckle Ginny laid her head on his shoulder.

“Perfect timing as always. I’ll go check on her.”

“No, I’ll go. You go to bed.” And hopefully she’d be asleep by the time he was done sorting out whatever the littlest demon wanted.

In the kids’ room Liam was sleeping blissfully through what had to be on the same decibel level as a klaxon going off. Evie was screaming bloody murder from her cot and hoping the solution was simple he picked up the source of the noise. After a few surprised blinks the wails turned into hiccupping sobs before she quieted down.

“That was it, huh? Well, at least I can’t fault your timing. You’re a good team player.” He didn’t really want to think too much about the fact that he was carrying on a conversation with a baby whose understanding of vocabulary probably stretched to “cookie” and “doggy”. But she’d earned a little pat for saving him earlier.

Too antsy to go back to bed once Evie was settled, Draco headed downstairs. Hunting up what had to be on the verge between being referred to as vinegar that could still be sold with a label spelling whisky, he poured a generous three fingers in a glass. The house was quiet and padding around he poked at pieces of Alternative Draco’s life. There were a lot of books, and by reading the titles he knew they were both his and hers. A large collection of CDs – they really had to have no money, who hadn’t upgraded to digital by now – were squashed in with the books.

Pictures of days he hadn’t been part of hung on the walls. Alternative Draco was smiling in all of them, a stupid grin he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. They appeared to be vacations, family dinners, holidays and the children’s milestones. Stopping in front of one of him with his arm around Liam on the front lawn next to a sadly misshapen snowman he frowned.

“What’s so damn funny, you twit?”

Taking a gulp of whisky he turned away. Across from him were videotapes and he shook his head. Really. CDs and videotapes? Didn’t Alternative Draco work in a store that was stocked with technology later than 1991? Curious to see what on earth was important enough to keep you’d stick to videos he found a collection that seemed to be in code. “D + G, Bmuda, 1999”, “L Bday ‘03”, “Bbcue, family, ‘01” “Chrsms, ’05 Evie + bear”. Clearly Ginny had been left in charge of the sorting. At least “Ginny, Birthday 2000” he could decipher. Popping it into the VCR the TV came to life. A grainy picture with a timestamp in the corner appeared.

Wherever it was it was dark and a “Shhh!” was heard.

“Be quiet, they’ll be here any second.” The camera turned around and the camera light painted an eerie white light over the person holding the camera. With a stab of recognition Draco saw it was Neville Longbottom. He hadn’t seen him since school.

“Here we are, in the backroom of the Fogg, waiting to celebrate Ginny Weasley’s twentieth birthday. Her boyfriend is currently leading her here, letting her believe they’re going to have a quiet dinner and then go home so she can study for her Healer exam. However, he really does have other plans. Don’t ask me how he did it but all the Weasleys are here, as well as friends and colleagues of the both of them. Now we’re just waiting for the signal to jump out and shout “surprise!””

Draco shook his head to himself. He had organized a surprise birthday party. He was really not that person, the kind that made gestures. First of all it was embarrassing and second of all it was…no, that was it, it was just embarrassing.

The video shook to life again, the picture wavy as a loud “surprise” resounded. The video focused and he spotted himself, though with a haircut he had never had and a shirt he would never wear. Despite being dressed like Harry Homemaker he looked…happy. Alternative Draco was smiling, standing next to Ginny. Grinning, actually.

With a feeling like he’d just fallen and landed on his chest, all the air leaving his lungs, he recognized a much younger Ginny. She didn’t look any different than she had the day in the Apparition Terminal. Her eyes were sparkling, her face splitting in a smile. She turned to Alternative Draco but the pub was too noisy for him to hear what they were saying.

Still it was easy enough to lip read,

“You did this? For me?”

His own words were harder but he thought it looked like,

“Who else? Of course I did it for you.” Although it could also possibly be “Wales? Off source I kid lit Anjou.” He was inclined to believe the first one though.

He saw Ginny’s lips moving to form the words “thank you” and then another uncomfortable thump travelled through his chest as she stood on her toes to kiss him. In a move that looked easy, and that he remembered vividly, Alternative Draco pulled her closer, pulling her up so she was plastered against him. Seeing it he could almost feel her body pressed against him, the curve of her waist under his hands, the warmth of her skin and the smell of her hair.

With his hands shaking slightly he paused the video, leaving a grainy, wobbly image of the two of them embracing on the TV. An uncomfortable weight had settled over his heart, like a coating of lead, and absently he rubbed his chest. Shaking his head he tried to clear it. For a moment he had actually seen why Alternative Draco was happy. Happy in house that could fall down around him, with the wardrobe of a senior citizen and surrounded by noise day in and day out. He was happy because he had Ginny. All the rest had somehow faded to Alternative Draco.

For the first time he realized Alternative Draco might not be living it up in his London flat, wishing for the trade back to never happen as he gallivanted around spending more money than he had seen in years. He might actually be wanting to get back. Back to Ginny and their home, the children they had. Sitting down in the armchair he looked back up to the screen, the young couple he had never known who were yet so familiar still embracing. Had they actually gotten the better end of the deal?


o.O.o


The next morning it was the click the alarm clock made before it started playing the radio that woke him and to avoid the relentlessly cheery presenters talking a million miles a minute he turned it off. It was Saturday but in the eternal hell of parenthood the baby had to be fed at the same time, regardless of whether or not it was the weekend. Knowing delaying would only bring Ginny’s wrath he sighed and rolled out of bed.

Having found slightly less disgraceful pyjamas in the shape of sweats and a longsleeved t-shirt with the Falmouth Falcons logo on in he had to concede to the horrendous fleece robe to defeat the morning chill.

Shuffling into the children’s room he found the baby already awake, staring in fascination at the mobile of small dragons that chased each other and breathed fire that hung over her crib.

“Morning, littlest demon.” He walked past Liam who lay half on top of the covers, half under, his limbs splayed over every available inch of mattress. His blond hair was tousled and his round cheeks flushed from sleep and with a strange stab of recognition he saw himself as a child in Liam. Evie turned her head when she heard his voice and gurgled happily.

“That’s right, I’m here. Don’t try and pretend you’re happy to see me - you’re happy to see the possibility of imminent breakfast, isn’t that right?” Clearly he was losing his mind in this place, speaking to a baby who couldn’t reply. Picking her up, the move now ingrained and practiced, as if it was something he’d always known but had had to rediscover, he settled her on his hip.

Continuing to ramble, mainly to distract himself while he changed her diaper, he picked her back up, now powder scented and happy. Making some sort of mysterious raspberry blowing sound to amuse herself he tucked her on his arm again and ventured downstairs.

Settling Evie in the highchair he pressed the button on the coffeemaker in passing and sent a brief thanks to the higher power that had created coffee.

“A drink for me and one for you. I’m afraid your young metabolism can only handle things that look like someone’s already eaten them so no coffee for you.” He found his wand in his robe pocket, pointed it at the bottle he’d taken out to heat it. Checking the temperature he wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“I’m sorry you only get this muck. Once you get teeth I promise I’ll take you to a three star Michelin restaurant, how’s that?” He put the baby’s small, chubby hands on the bottle and watched her attack it, the force of her suckling making centrifugal spirals swirl in the beige liquid.

Ginny suddenly appeared in the doorway, her hair wild and her pyjama top sliding off one shoulder to leave the milky skin bare. An arrow of pure lust shot through him at the sight and quickly he reached into the cupboard for a coffee cup - and to hide her from view. Telling himself sternly to cut it out, he closed it again.

The second he closed it she jumped him, her lips finding his. Surprised he stumbled backwards but managed to regain his balance and shift her weight so she was pressed against him. All thoughts were wiped from his head as she kissed him deeply, her lips warm and her skin smelling of the sheets she’d just woken up in. The counter behind him prevented any thought of escape and giving in to the situation he hoisted her higher, running a hand into her hair. Only the knowledge that the baby was sitting a few feet away kept him from turning them and settling her on the counter and forgetting she was married to someone else.

Pulling apart she squirmed to get down and he had to bite back a groan as her lithe curves pressed into him.
“Wait,” she said and a desperate urge to say no, he’d waited long enough rose inside him. Then she was back in front of him, a large white parcel tied with silver ribbons in her hands. Handing it to him she leaned over it to place a peck on his lips.

“Happy anniversary!”

“Anniversary?” All the blood that had been surging hotly in his system froze.

“I know you have a crazy plan, you always do, but whatever it may be I want you to open my gift first.” She almost bounced in place.

“I...Oh, my plan.” What plan? What could Alternative Draco even have done - all his “special” dates, reserved for the female acquaintances who understood his boundaries were far out of his current price range.

“In a minute - go on, open it!” Slowly he began opening it tidily only to be interrupted by Ginny tearing the paper in the middle and opening the lid of the box inside. On a bed of tissue paper lay the suit he had seen, the discrete Armani logo peeking from the back of the collar.

“My suit.”

“I decided the kids can get student loans, after all.”

Shocked, he looked up and she laughed.

“Don’t worry, I found it at an outlet. It’s the right one, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Gently he touched the fabric. It had been so long since he had actually wanted something and hadn’t been able to get it. So long since a wish of his had been fulfilled by someone else. “It’s...perfect. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. It really will be - I know you’re going to look great in it. Now you’re allowed to start today’s plan, what’s the elaborate deal you’ve organised this year?” She looked around as if he’d hidden a cruise boat to the Bahamas somewhere in the kitchen.

“Ah...the plan. Today’s plan. Our wedding anniversary plan.” Her shoulders sank, a small frown on her forehead.

“I have a plan, since it’s the fifth of January today. Our anniversary.”

Her features fell.

“You forgot.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “You forgot our anniversary.”

“I didn’t I...This year it’s been so busy and I…”

“Never. You’ve never forgotten, Draco. You didn’t forget the year Liam had the measles and we’d been up for three days straight. But this year, you forgot.”

“Ginny, I…” He reached for her, for the first time in over thirteen years.

“No.” She stepped back. “I don’t know who you are or where your head has been lately but I feel like I don’t know you anymore. Who are you, Draco?”

With that she left and a moment later he heard the bedroom door slam upstairs.

“You forgot the anniversary?” Liam lisped from the doorway, his eyes wide.

“I guess I must’ve.” He bent to pick up the bottle Evie had tossed gleefully. “Though if someone had told me it was on the fifth, that would’ve been good,” he muttered to himself. Draco stood again.

“Did you know it was today?”

“I can only tell if it’s three o’clock or nine o’clock.” Liam climbed up on the seat, sitting on his knees to be able to look up over the edge of the table. He looked up above the kitchen door. “It’s not nine o’clock.”

“That’s grand,” Draco said under his breath, “just grand.” Raising his voice to normal he sighed, “I suppose you want your cocoa now?”

“Yes, please. Five spoons.”

Draco arched a brow.

“Five? Is that what your dad lets you have?”

“Yes.”

“Does he think he’s made of money? How is he going to pay all those dentist bills?”

“My daddy says money never made anyone happy.”

“I’m sure he likes to think so considering he has none. You get three spoons, take it or leave it.”

“Four, and a cookie.” Draco couldn’t help chuckling.

“You know, maybe one day you can work for my company. Three, and a yoghurt, if you tell me what your dad usually does for anniversaries.”

Liam considered.

“Mmm’kay. If it’s raspberry.”

“Deal.” Sorting out the kid’s breakfast he pumped him for information. Liam knew that last year Alternative Draco had taken Ginny flying on the national Quidditch pitch and the year before he’d taken her for a picnic.

“A picnic? Really? Like sitting on the ground with the insects while it rains on you?”

“Mummy liked it.”

“Of course she did,” he muttered. “She probably doesn’t know what the inside of a nice restaurant looks like.” Liam spooned some yoghurt up, managing to land most of the pink goo on his snitch adorned pyjamas.

“She said it reminded her of how everything was in the beginning.” He slurped the remaining yoghurt from the spoon. “Or something like that.”

Draco watched him wipe his mouth on his sleeve, the response of,

“Liam, don’t,” automatic out of his mouth.

“You know, I think I have an idea.” He put his coffee down.

“Which one of your myriad of uncles would you like to babysit you and your sister tonight?”

“Uncle Harry!” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Of course you do. Fine. Just promise you’ll break something over at his place, will you?”

It had taken a lot of calls, a lot of cajoling and a lot of work but in the end he hoped he’d done at least half as well as Alternative Draco would’ve.

Dressed in his new suit, an admirable fit though it had still to be altered, and standing on the Hogsmeade main street with a heating charm keeping him from freezing in the snowy postcard image he could only hope Ginny would turn up.

This morning he had begun by asking himself what he would do if he was a sappy doormat to make his irate wife listen and resolved to leave her a rose, along with a card of Apparition directions. Specifying to appear at five, he wondered if it would work.

It was now five past five, his cheap high street watch told him. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she saw the flower and the card and set them on fire before sitting down to watch the clock reach five and smile darkly at his discomfort standing waiting for her somewhere.

A muted pop resounded and Ginny was suddenly in front of him. Clearly she had set her mind on making him suffer, but in a different way than not turning up, as she was wearing a figure hugging black dress, her red curls swept up and falling temptingly around her face and neck. She’d added some make-up that he knew she rarely wore and her eyes were darker and deeper than usual, adding another layer to her normally stunning caramel eyes.

A silver locket hung around her neck, nestling comfortably between her breasts where they rose from black satin. His eyes widened. He’d know it anywhere, as it was one of his mother’s most treasured possessions. The locket of the Malfoy wives.

He couldn’t imagine how his mother had ever parted with it, or even how she’d condescend to give it to a Weasley, but there it was, around Alternative Draco’s wife’s neck.

“I’m here.” Her tone told him he was far from forgiven even if she had deigned to appear.

“Ginny...you look...stunning.”

“You’re going to have to do better if you want me to stay.”

It might’ve been a long time since he’d been in the dog house for the sake of this particular woman, but he remembered well enough that no sweet words or gifts worked on her.

“Ginny, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I forgot this morning, there’s really no excuse. I would just like to try and make it up to you.”

He reached for her and this time she stayed put. Encouraged he tilted her chin up so she was looking him in the eye.

“I’m sorry.”

She sighed, some tension leaving her shoulder.

“Never again, Draco, you hear me? Never again.” She lifted her hands to rest on his shoulders. “Forgetting an anniversary may seem like a small thing but I just feel like that’s the first step towards something. Something I don’t want to be. We’re just not one of those couples who forget each other, or take each other for granted. It’s important to me that you remember because except Liam and Evie’s birthdays, it was the best day of my life. I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

“I won’t.” He was sure of it. Though he’d soon be back in his real life, behind his desk, buried at work, he’d still remember January the fifth. Maybe he’d even take the day off, celebrate.

“I promise.” He didn’t dole out promises. If you gave your word, you had to keep it, that was the way he’d always seen it. But this promise he could easily give as he’d never forget the way Ginny looked, dressed to kill in the middle of the snow, her caramel eyes beginning to warm in earnest.

The thought brought him back to reality and he sent a heating charm her way. Relaxing under it, she stepped back. For a second he missed having her warmth pressed against him.

“So why are we in Hogsmeade?”

“I thought, since I’ve been a poor husband lately,” he tried to not gag on the word ‘husband’, “I’d give you a little reminder why you’re with me.” He tucked her arm under his. “So we’re taking the tour of Draco and Ginny, the early years.”

She smiled, looked around.

“Oh, pulling out the big guns, sentimentality. Well, go on.”

“I resent that, this is no trick, Weasley.”

“No? I believe I sense the overwhelming power of the Malfoy manipulation.” She turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Why were you ever with me when you see through me so easily?”

“Because I can see all that’s inside you.” She reached up to touch his cheek and for a moment his head spun. This was too familiar, too close to the truth. “That’s not to say it’s not a powerful skill - just don’t underestimate me. I’m a Malfoy too, you know.”

He couldn’t help chuckling.

“So you are. Well, let’s see if I can still sweep you off your feet - a little.” He walked them around the corner.

“Here’s our first stop. The Hogsmeade dead end alley where Draco and Ginny had their first, of many, fights.”

Ginny looked around, a moment before the place linked to her memories.

“There was a bench here. I remember now. You really count our fight here as the first one of ‘our’ fights?”

“You don’t?”

“No. Here we just fought because you were being an insufferable twit.”

“I was an insufferable twit who you were helplessly attracted to. That’s why we fought.”

She laughed, the full sound echoing between the walls of the enclosed street.

“True. But I wouldn’t say there was an ‘us’ to be talked about yet.”

“All right, you disagree, but I spent the whole time imagining what you’d do if I shut you up by kissing you.”

“Probably kiss you back and then hex you.”

It was his turn to laugh.

“That’s my girl. Right, next stop.” He conjured his broom and held out his hand for her.

“I didn’t really dress for flying.”

“Well, we can’t Apparate to the next stop. It’s not far.”

He climbed on and she joined him, sitting sideways so her dress wouldn’t ride up. Torn between relief and disappointment at this, he locked his arms around her and took off.

Windblown but with the heating charm still holding they reached the Hogwarts grounds. Fresh snow lay like a pristine tablecloth blanketing the well known landscape. The lake was covered in ice and the sky was black velvet where it stretched above them. Starlight set the snow sparkling and the whole world seemed wrapped in silence.

Ginny took his hand and it felt more comfortable than he would like to admit. Telling himself he could hardly put Alternative Draco in the position of coming back to his life in the middle of a divorce, he returned her squeeze.

Leading her toward the lake, she sighed in content.

“You know why we’re going here, don’t you?”

“How could I forget? Draco and Ginny’s first kiss.”

They stopped in the same place, as if their feet could still recall where they’d stood that fateful day so many years before.

“This is the place.”

“I know. I still feel magic in the air. Do you?” Ginny looked around, her eyes sparkling.

 

“I don’t think it was the magic of the spot. For me it was just you. You were always magic to me.”

“You were surrounded by magic at this school, Draco.”

“Not magic like yours. Did you know I used to think someone had actually put a spell on me, to make me think of you like I did? I imagined it was someone’s idea of revenge. To make me want something I couldn’t have so badly.” He put his hands in his pockets, the contact of her skin and his admittance to much to deal with at once.

“That’s okay. I thought you were a phase.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I thought I would wake up one morning to not want you as desperately anymore. That it would make it okay, that I’d be able to explain it away.” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Now I hope that if it’s a phase, it’s one that doesn’t ever end.”

In her words he heard an affection that made his heart twist. These words weren’t for him. They were for another Draco in another time. One that still treasured and relived the memory of the two of them on the bank of the lake. Young, confused, absolutely spitting mad. He still couldn’t tell which of them had taken the first step but from one moment of yelling at each other to another they’d been kissing, the first time rendering him deaf, dumb and blind to anything that wasn’t her and how she made him feel. It had been frantic, hungry and passionate and when they broke apart they’d stared at each other, breathing heavily before each stalked away.

He’d walked towards the Quidditch pitch then, promising himself it would never happen again.

He’d lasted less than a day.

Bringing her to the steps of the castle he lead her up the stairs. They didn’t see a single student, most still home for the holidays. On the second floor he took her to a rarely used corridor, the one he’d ended up in on the day they’d kissed.  He’d been about to skulk around the Gryffindor common room in the hope of seeing her, or perhaps picking a fight with her.  Seeing her at the other end of this hallway, he’d known she had no reason to be there unless she was on her way to the Slytherin common room in the least obvious manner. For a second they’d just stood there, at either end of the corridor. Then she’d slipped her book bag from her shoulder and dropped it at floor, striding towards him. Meeting in the middle they didn’t have time for words as they reached for each other, kissing hurriedly, teeth clicking in their rush. Stumbling into the nearest classroom, thankfully never in use, they’d torn into each other.

Now Draco could only remember bits of it, most drowned in a heady mix of joy and lust that had cascaded through him. It had raged through all his senses, pounding inside him with an urgency like none he’d ever known.

“I’m sure this place needs no introduction.”

She shook her head in amusement.

“You’re right. Did you sleep at all that night, after we kissed?”

“No.”

“Me neither. I just lay there, reliving it, waiting for the self-loathing. But it never came. All I knew was that I had to do it again.”

“I had plenty of self-loathing, especially because all I could think of was kissing you again.”

“How long was it before we actually talked to each other?”

“Funny you should ask. Next stop, what I like to call “The First Time Draco and Ginny Spoke To Each Other”.” He led her around the corner to open the door to  a broom cupboard. It was dusty and bleak and exactly as it had been years ago, down to the 1970’s leaflet for Miss Mosley's Magic Tincture, guaranteed to remove even the hardiest of stains.

“Aww, our spot.”

“Well, one of them. And though humble, I recall it fondly.”

“Do you remember the time Filch found us in here and we had to run through half the castle to get away?”

“How can I forget? I think I still have the scars from Mrs Norris scratching me while we ran.”

“My poor baby.”

“You laugh, I’m sure that mangy cat carried all sorts of diseases.”

Ginny laughed louder and pulled at his hand.

“Sure it did. Now come on, how about I guess the next stop?”

“All right.” He let her tug him down the corridor to climb the stairs. In a few minutes they appeared in front of a familiar tapestry.

“I’m guessing this is it, though we have to walk in front of it three times before it appears.”

“It is, though you have to let me do the walking as I know what we need.”

“Very well.”

Attempting to focus and ignoring her presence he thought back to his last year of school and how this room had looked then - while adding a few necessary details for this evening. Counting out the three times, he then found the door and held it open to her.

“After you.”

She stepped in and stopped in her tracks. “Oh, Draco.”

He followed, pleased to see it had turned out as he planned. The second feeling to wash over him was overwhelming nostalgia. The room looked exactly as it had the last time he had seen it. Their refuge, away from judging and staring, away from everyone who had opinions on seeing them together. In this room there had been just the two of them, away from the world.

It was a cozy space, with a fireplace on one wall, a large bed against the other. Two armchairs faced the window and today a table set for two stood in front of the fire. Champagne that he’d had to bribe the houselves to bring stood in a bucket next to the table.

“It’s just as it was.”

“It’s meant to be. The last stop of the evening, and also the most important. Welcome to the combined stops of “Where Ginny and Draco Made Love for the First Time” and “Where Draco First Told Ginny He Loved Her”. Coincidentally it’s where we’re having dinner.”

“Not fair, Malfoy. This is so low. And also, you have no idea how lucky you’re about to get.”

“I believe having you love me while you’re angry with me is a speciality of mine.”

“It is. Are you going to pour me some of that champagne?”

“I am. Let’s have a seat.”

Sitting down they enjoyed the food the elves had brought up, talking about their other favorite spots on the grounds. When they had finished the dishes magically disappeared, leaving just the glasses of wine.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s been going on with you lately, Draco?” Ginny leaned back in her chair, glass in her hand.

Treading carefully, he ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just...Lately I’ve felt a bit out of place. I always pictured my life would be one way but it’s...it’s turning out different.”

“Bad different?” Ginny set her glass down. A week ago he would have answered with a resounding “Yes, so bad” without a care for the consequences. Now, sitting with Ginny, more beautiful than she had ever been, sharing memories of a time they both treasured he couldn’t bring himself to call it bad.

“No, no. Just...different. But I know that right now, there is nowhere else in the entire world I would like to be.”

The moment he spoke the words he knew them to be true. He really couldn’t think of a single place he would prefer to be in this moment. Not in his stylish London flat, not behind the desk in his corner office, not in the boardroom working on his next deal. He didn’t want to be in Bimini, Florence or Colorado, or anywhere else he could take his company jet to. He didn’t want to be in Chez Romaine having veal or in Tully’s, his favorite cocktail place in the world, on the Upper East Side. He wanted to be nowhere as much as across from Ginny in this moment.

“Me either. Though there is something I’d rather be doing with you.”

“Yes?” He felt his heart begin beating faster, his hands not entirely steady when he put his glass down. She stood and held out a hand for him.

“I’d like to dance with you.”

“Dance?” He blinked. “Now? There’s no musi-” he trailed off as a slow song picked up, seemingly out of nowhere. He shook his head in amusement - not only was it the room of requirements but of wishes as well.

Obliging her, he took her hand, spun her out toward the room before bringing her back. Leaning against him she fit neatly just under his chin and he could feel rather than hear her hum with the tune.

“This is perfect. Thank you, Draco.”

“It’s nothing.”

She leaned back enough to be able to look into his eyes.

“It’s everything. We’re everything to me, Draco. Us together is what makes it work, what makes everything work. I couldn’t do this without you.”

“I can’t picture being with anyone but you.” He never had. He hadn’t realized it before but if it wasn’t with her he’d never pictured himself settling down. It had been a vague prospect in a hazy future that he might marry for the advancement of his company but marrying for love, having a house, having children, that had only ever been a dream when he had been with her. A dream he did have with her. Somehow he had ended up in it, given a taste of what it was to hold it.

The past and the present was mixing confusingly as he looked into her eyes, the same eyes that had looked at him with the same understanding, the same unconditional openness before. That golden amber colour of them that had always been able to make him feel surrounded by warmth.

She was smiling, the small  smile that he had always thought of as his, the one she reserved for him. It was still there, that tiny tilt of the corner of her mouth that never failed to make gratitude swirl in him for not only finding her but having her.

“I love you.” The words flowed over his lips before the feeling had fully registered in his mind. “I never stopped loving you.” Surprise coloured his words.

“I love you too, Draco. I always will.” She stood on her toes, pressed a slow kiss to his lips. “Now will you make love to me?”

Floored, he could only nod. He’d had similar requests, uttered by enough women for him to  lose count, in more enticing and exotic manners, but none had been able to bring him to his knees like the woman in front of him just had. Like he was a land that had been wrapped in darkness the sun was rising from her, spilling golden light through him until every inch was touched by it. The choking tenderness that washed over him was followed by a wave of thankfulness so strong he feared for a moment he actually would sink to his knees. The woman who was the sun of his universe, whose presence kept him anchored like a force of nature was there in front of him again and it made him realize how much he had missed her. Without her in his life his orbit had been wavering, lost, hurtling him through endless space. How had he ever thought he could live without her?

 

Pulling her into his arms to lift her off the floor she laughed, clinging closer.

“You always knew how to sweep me off my feet.” Setting her down on the bed, he leaned over her, the tenderness beginning to heat into need.

“You never let me gain my feet so it’s only fair. You’re always new, Ginny, always different. I could spend my life watching for it.”

She reached up for him, her arms winding around his neck.

“You are.”

 

o.O.o

 

The next morning sitting in the kitchen reading his paper Liam walked past, his violin squeaking out an off key rendition of Old Macdonald Had a Farm. Lowering the paper he looked up around the kitchen, the mess that usually made a nerve behind his left eye twitch surprisingly not minding there were cups in the sink and that the fridge was cluttered up with squiggly “drawings” of Liam’s, shopping lists that were always forgotten when they went to the store and, to really emphasize how far he had fallen, coupons.

Ginny was sitting across from him, Evie on her lap as she read the Arts and Leisure section. Something was apparently amusing as she was wearing a half smile while the baby was focused on attempting to swallow a whole spoon. She was in that horrendous flannel pyjama again. Though some of the horror was wearing off. There was something...sexy about the fact he knew exactly what hid under that shapeless sack. Only he knew she was there, warm and bare skin, soft and delectable just under a layer of worn flannel. A lock of her hair fell from where she’d stuck it up, secured by her wand and delighted, Evie grabbed for it. Hooking it behind her ear again absentmindedly, Draco was struck by the feeling he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

To the soundtrack of what sounded mostly like a cat getting repeatedly run over, or in Liam’s world, a C-scale, a sense of peace he had never felt settled over him like a blanket. As if swaddled  by the knowledge, serenity enveloped him like an embrace and he couldn’t help smiling. To hide it he lifted the paper again, none of the words making it as far as reaching his brain.

 

After the weekend, the usual accompanying dread that followed the knowledge he had to go and be a salesman, failed to materialise. Standing in front of his sad wardrobe with Evie in her bouncer behind him he planned out the day aloud.

“First we’re getting dressed, or as it is in this house, covering our nakedness more like because there’s nothing grand in here. Though this is really comfortable,” he held up a washed out shirt. “What do you think? Brings out the colour of this polyester jumper, doesn’t it?”

Evie kicked her legs and whimpered slightly.

“No?” He reached into the wardrobe and brought out the sack like jumper Ginny had been wearing when he kissed her and she tasted of chocolate. “How about this one?”

Evie laughed.

“I’m going to take that as a yes and not as mockery for this garment because I will not have my dress sense judged by someone who wears clothes that come in one piece and can’t do up a button.”

The baby made her favoured raspberry blowing noise and, amused, he tugged on the jumper. Kneeling in front of the seat to unstrap her, he sent the little teddy bears hanging from the handle spinning to make her giggle.

“You’re much smarter than you’d like us to know, aren’t you? You’re just waiting to floor us one day when your first words are actually a sentence of four syllable words in iambic pentameter.” He unstrapped her, reaching for the little cardigan that looked big enough to fit a doll.

“Here we go, let’s cooperate today. I have to be on time or your grandpa will scold me.” At the word “grandpa” Evie looked up excitedly, a noise sounding like “Ooh-ohh,” escaping her.

“That’s right, grandpa. Do you want to come see him, hmm? I bet you could help Daddy sell a lot of stuff with those cheeks and that smile…” he trailed off as his own words sunk in. He’d just called himself “Daddy”.

Sitting back on his heels, he shook his head. It was an easy mistake to make. Everyone called him Liam and Evie’s dad, he was probably just subconsciously trying to make it easier for the baby who wouldn’t be able to understand he wasn’t her father. That was probably it.

Lifting her he felt a short, intense stab of regret.

Then Ginny called and walking downstairs he shrugged the feeling off as he entered the chaos that was breakfast time in the Malfoy kitchen.

Managing half a cup of coffee and a quarter of the front page of the paper in between helping feeding Evie and checking Liam knew his words for his spelling test he managed to leave almost on time. And okay, he had a formula stain on his jumper and his head was spinning with the question of whether it was “a-c-c-o-m-m-o-d-a-t-e” or “a-c-c-o-m-o-d-a-t-e” but all in all it had been a good morning.

“Draco, wait!” Ginny caught him on the porch, still dressed in her pyjamas. Expecting to be handed a shopping list or hear some appliance or other was breaking down and causing havoc, he turned dutifully. The next second he had his arms full of warm woman as she tugged him close for a heated kiss. Wrapping his arms around her, he easily pulled her up higher against him, leaning them against the wall. Ginny sighed as he bit her supple bottom lip and rose against him like a wave. Heat pooled in his stomach and with a feeling of regret he felt her pull back. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she grinned.

“Have a great day.” Then with a wink she pinched his butt and disappeared into the house.

Stunned it took him a moment to let the laughter break free. Chuckling to himself, he jogged down the stairs. Across the road a man dressed in wellies, large boxer shorts and an untied ratty dressing gown stood, still staring, where he was about to put his rubbish in a bin. Raising his hand in greeting, Draco began whistling when he got into the car. Still whistling, Draco drove past the neighbour with his bin bag hovering over the bin.

He supposed it was no wonder, really, that someone would be surprised to see a couple, married thirteen years with two children, snog on their porch. Wondering if this was a passion due to a feeling of renewal in their marriage because he was actually a different person or if it was simply day to day proceedings in Alternative Draco’s life, he signalled to turn. Though he would like to give himself the credit, he was fairly sure he could deduce this was how his doppelganger’s marriage worked. And damn him if he wasn’t a bit jealous of it. To get sent off to work with a farewell like that put a spring in a man’s step, to say the least.

Still grinning to himself, he pulled into the car park outside the shopping centre. Feeling lucky, as a spot just opened, he slid into it. It wasn’t until he got to the second floor, just outside Arthur Weasley’s shop that he realized he was still whistling. Stopping, appalled with himself, he shook his head. There were lines, lines that shouldn’t be crossed. He was only here until he could be switched back, there was no reason to lose himself. Draco Malfoy did not whistle.

After telling himself this sternly, he entered the shop.

“Draco, there you are. You look like you’ve had a good night’s sleep?” Arthur Weasley’s jolly face appeared over the shelves of “Crockery That Doesn’t Wash Itself”.

Draco hesitated slightly. He may be, and he had to swallow back a wave of nausea at the thought, on friendly terms with the Weasley patriarch in this universe but he doubted friendly enough to state his good mood was due to snogging his daughter up against the wall of their house in front of all and sundry.

“Ah...yes. Good morning. I think Evie’s about to speak and Liam is sure to ace his spelling test today.” He moved deeper into the shop and to his surprise, Arthur Weasley followed, his slightly bobbing walk making him feel like he was followed by some sort of toy on a string.

“Excellent, excellent. Well, Evie may be a little behind her cousins on talking but you can see she’s intelligent. One of these days, she’ll blurt out a whole sentence and we’ll all be amazed.”

For some reason gratitude rose in his chest and, surprised and flabbergasted, Draco squashed it.

“I agree.” Hearing it was a bit curt, even for him, he added his earlier thought, “and it’ll be in iambic pentameter.”

Arthur Weasley chortled.

“No doubt. And if her brother is anything to go by, she’ll be one of the brightest witches at Hogwarts when the time comes.”

Draco frowned.

“It’s ages until Liam and Evie are off to school.” Something about the idea didn’t sit right with him at all. Liam and Evie leaving their house, joining the ranks of Hogwarts? Would that innocent, loving boy be spoiled by inter house politics and the at times unfriendly atmosphere hundreds of miles away from his home? Would he be sorted into a house, and would Alternative Draco care which one? He tried to picture Liam get sorted into Slytherin and failed. The boy was smart, and cunning and not a little manipulative when he wanted to be, but he didn’t have the drive, the need for Slytherin. Though he was no Gryffindork either. Surprised to feel little resentment that his son wouldn’t be sorted into his old house, he frowned.

“It seems like it will be forever but it flashes past. In a minute they’re off to school, the next they’re getting married and having children of their own.” Arthur Weasley looked as if was reliving old memories for a moment before focusing back on him. “So just enjoy it now.” His face cleared up completely, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“But then again, sometimes they bring home good partners who make them happy, which in turn makes a father happy.”

“Ah, Mr. Weasley...Arthur, I…”

“Oh, don’t fuss. I’m old enough to say what I like when I feel like saying it. Also, I’m laying the groundwork to make you agree to take a shift next Saturday. Molly’s got it in her head there’s some flower show she wants to see.”

“Work on a Saturday?”

“I know you haven’t in a long time, but Norman is off and Shelby’s daughter is still sick and Molly had that look in her eyes…”

“Fine, fine.”

“Draco, you’re my favourite son in law.”

“Ha ha.” Leaving his things in his office, dumping the sweater that already felt too warm he ventured out in the shop again. Beaming when he saw him, Arthur called him over.

“Draco, tell this fine man why he can’t go wrong with a seventy-five inch tellyvision.” The customer standing with his back to him turned and Draco blinked when he recognised him. Tall, lean and handsome, dressed in an impeccable muggle suit - though it was Hugo Boss, not Italian - stood Blaise Zabini.

In his reality, he had not seen the former Slytherin since graduation and hadn’t missed it either. Blaise was intelligent and less annoying than many of his housemates but he had never been in Draco’s circle, preferring his own company to that of others. The years had turned him from pretty boy to handsome man and the glasses he now wore suited him well. Like his suit, they had a price tag of proportions as well. On his wrist, a vintage Patek Phillippe watch peeked out of a French cuff and his shoes cost more than Draco earned as a salesman in a year.

Suddenly, it clicked in place - Zabini’s firm was organising the Azure deal. For all intents and purposes, Blaise Zabini had taken his place in this universe. This, in a different way, was also Alternative Draco.

Breeding, habit and a general disinterest in life around him ensured Zabini never showed much emotion so when he spotted Draco, the slight widening of his eyes was his version of his chin hitting the floor and his eyes popping out of their sockets like on the cartoons Liam liked to watch.

“Malfoy?” The well-modulated, polished voice was incredulous.

“Zabini,” Draco greeted him coolly.

“Oh, you know each other? Splendid, splendid, I’ll leave you to catch up.” Arthur Weasley bounced off, pound signs in his eyes already.

“This is what you do now?” Blaise asked, looking around the shop as if it was the equivalent of chasing people down the street with fake watches sewn to the inside of his coat.

“It is. So, you’re after the seventy-five inch television then? Can’t go wrong with that.”

Zabini, never one for small talk, still seemed unable to get back to his original purpose.

“You...You are actually a salesman here?” Now the tone had changed to...almost concern, as if he’d found Draco in a back alley, a needle sticking out of his arm.

“I am.” His tone chilled, the sharp edges of it able to cut diamonds. It was a tone Zabini would do well to remember his housemates had known to give in to or face the consequences. Clearly, the other man did as he held up his hands.

“I just...you of all people, working here, you have to admit for someone who hasn’t seen you since school it’s...bizarre.”

Draco would indeed admit it, and even agree, but only to himself. But what right did Zabini have to sit on his high horse and look down on those who enjoyed what they did for an honest living?

“Do you know what I find bizarre? That you paid thirty-five million for Azure. They would have agreed to twenty.”

“Would they, now?” Zabini’s tone was amused.

“They would. With political aspirations and a son in prison, the CEO would have been quite amenable to a price drop.”

“His son is at Oxford and will be graduating at the top of his class.”

“His second son, yes. The oldest is doing time for assault. And if that didn’t help, then perhaps mention of his third son would help.”

“He doesn’t have a third son.” Zabini crossed his arms.

“Doesn’t he? I’d check with his mother, the mistress in Cancun, she’ll be devastated to know her son doesn’t exist.” Tilting his head, Draco smirked.

“Your researchers suck, Zabini, and they cost you fifteen million pounds a year. If I were you, I’d take a good look at my team. If you want the television, tell them at the till. Goodbye.” Turning on his heel, he left the other man blinking, once again his version of an undignified gape.

 

o.O.o

 

 

Three days later, Draco had an owl, the logo on the headed letter familiar. A stylised “Z” and “P” - Zabini-Parkinson. An invitation to the London head office - ironically at the same address as the London headquarters of Malfoy Holdings. He looked up over the edge of the letter to see Ginny sitting on the floor with Evie in her arms, reading a book that did little but state the obvious about various farmyard animals. Around them, Liam was driving his trike in increasingly smaller circles as he made train noises. He sounded like an asthmatic bear. He was dressed in some cast offs from some cousin or other and the sweater was too big, the sleeves rolled up. His new shoes were already scuffed and his jeans had a hole on the knee.

Maybe there was still something he could do for them.

Dressing in his anniversary suit, now altered to suit him perfectly, by a surprisingly handy Molly Weasley, he set off for London. Surprised to feel nerves tensing in his stomach, he looked up at the tall building that usually only made him feel a proprietary pride. Leaving the beaten up old car, he climbed out and went inside.

The nerves weren’t due to facing Zabini, or being in the impressive building. It was because he had one chance, one chance to pull his family from where they were to where they were supposed to be.

Alternative Draco’s family, he corrected himself. This was something he could do for that deadbeat and then know Ginny, Liam and Evie were provided for when he went back. But it hinged on how he did today, how the meeting played out.

Standing in the lift he straightened up. It was going to play out the way he wanted it to play out. He was Draco Lucien Malfoy, CEO of Malfoy Holdings, and he wouldn’t allow his family to live in a hovel.

Striding into the corner office - his office - he found Zabini standing next to a seated woman. It took him a moment to recognise Pansy Parkinson. She’d paid for a new nose. With two wings of sleek, dark hair, her new nose and a loss of puppy fat, she no longer looked like the pug she had at school. Now she looked like an Afghan dog. Dressed in a navy suit, she uncrossed her legs and stood when he entered.

“Draco,” her voice was deep and husky, and he knew, completely false as her natural register was high and nasal.

“Parkinson.”

She stopped her advance, the welcoming smile stiffening slightly.

“So brusque.” Tossing the shiny hair she shrugged. “Then again, you always were...Well,” she giggled in a way he recalled and felt his insides recoil, “almost all the time.”

He knew the time she referred to. Throughout their school years, she had had her sight set on him, hounding him with a dogged determination. He’d never found her remotely interesting or attractive but one evening of too much Firewhisky and a fight with his father had resulted in a disastrous lapse of judgement. To which she never stopped referring. In many ways, he thought, for her it hadn’t been love, after a few years it had been a burning determination to make him lose, give in, prove him wrong.

Ignoring her overture, he nodded instead to Zabini. Put out, Pansy returned to her seat. Adopting a cold, disinterested stance, she sat stiffly. He suddenly missed Ginny who didn’t have an ounce of pretense. She didn’t have to. All that Pansy wanted - attention, admiration and respect - Ginny got without putting on any airs or acts. Or perhaps that was why she got it.

“Malfoy, I’ve spoken to Pansy and we were interested in hearing more of your...particular insight into Azure.”

“And you’ll have it.” Draco let his lips stretch in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “For a price.”

 

Almost lightheaded, he pulled Ginny along the street. He was still wearing his suit, she still in her uniform for work. He’d picked her up and wouldn’t tell her where they were going, something that had just made her smile and with anticipation as she followed him through London. A quick call to the Weasley residence to make sure Liam and Evie could stay on a little longer was met with delight.

“Draco, where on earth are you taking me?”

“You’ll see in a minute.”

“We’re in Kensington, London, what on earth around here would you want to show me? We can’t even afford to drink tea around here.”

“We’re not drinking overpriced tea. It’s something else. A surprise.”

“I hope it’s good. We might be charged for using the pavement.”

“It is. Come on.” He pulled her up the stairs to one of the white, pilastered houses, the blue door with its brass knocker swinging open at his touch. Inside was an airy hallway with a skylight and stairs led up to the second floor. Going past it he showed her into a large sitting room, Georgian windows framing the view of the street prettily. Done up in creams and golds with antique furniture and expensive replica paintings on the walls Draco spread his arms to show it all.

“What do you think?”

Ginny tilted her head. Standing just inside the doorway in her Healer uniform, her vibrant hair pulled into a ponytail she looked out of place.

“Think about what, Draco?”

“This place!”

She looked around, her hands in the pockets of her old jacket. He could swear he remembered it from when they had used to go out. It had to be ancient. Well, no more. He could take her to a store, any store and let her choose any kind of jacket she wanted. The knowledge of it made a warm glow of satisfaction brim in his stomach.

“What do I think about this place? Draco, why are we here? This is someone’s house. Someone who doesn’t like personal touches, but it’s someone’s home. Why are we in it?”

“It’s ours. Our home.”

Ginny blinked, slowly taking her hands out of her pockets.

“Pardon?”

“It’s our house, Ginny. I made a deal with Zabini’s firm. We’re never going to have to worry about money again. Liam and Evie can go to the best schools, you can work for even less profit, we’ll have a house that isn’t about to fall down.”

“Draco, we love that house. It’s our home.”

Careful, he told himself. People had the strangest sentimental attachments. Like loving that glorified, multi storey shed.

“Liam loves his school. All his friends are there. Evie’s nursery is the same all her cousins go to. You would seriously take them from there so they could leave here and attend a fancier school?”

When he’d pictured this moment he’d thought Ginny would burst out laughing with joy, latching on to him in a hug. Pressing her close she’d say, her voice just a little tearful, she was glad living in the other place was over, that a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Then she would run around exclaiming over all the rooms and sigh over the open fireplaces and polished hardwood floors.

In reality (though he would still debate that it was his reality) she just stood on the threshold, the look on her face for the first time since he arrived one that said she didn’t know who he was. She looked lost and small.

“Ginny…this is an amazing house. It’s a great neighbourhood. It’s in the catchment area for three of the best schools in the country.”

“It is a great house. For someone. I’ll see you at home, Draco.” With a set to her shoulders he recognised as “back off or die” he kept silent, the muted pop when she Apparated away seeming to resound in his head.

o.O.o

Later that evening he was sitting in what had over time had become his armchair. He knew Ginny was home, he’d heard her upstairs but knowing a blow up was inevitable if he approached her before she was ready he had stayed clear. The baby monitor on the kitchen counter made her sound like she was in the next room as she sang to Evie. Something old, and vaguely familiar though no one had sang it to him when he was little. After the baby’s breaths turned deep and snuffling he heard her turn her attention to Liam, reading one of his favorites - Snitch’s Adventure. He could picture them upstairs, Ginny in one of her big ugly sweaters and leggings, reading to a curled up Liam smelling of his bath. With an unfamiliar stab in his chest he realized he wanted to be up there. Had wanted to be part of bath time with the bubbles and the carnage as all plastic toys from his son’s basket waged war on the high seas. To see the pearly white teeth flashing in a smile as he made Spider-Man and Victor Krum do battle among foaming waves in the tub. He wanted to hold Evie and hear that shift in the air when she fell asleep, the almost magical moment where the world faded to her and dreams welcomed her into their embrace. Draco wanted to hear the soft breathing of both of them as he left the room, the door slightly ajar as Liam didn’t trust the little nightlight in the shape of a caterpillar would be bright enough.

For some reason his and Ginny’s fight suddenly seemed small. He’d been angry a moment ago, hadn’t he? Angry she couldn’t see what would be best for the family. Angry she had thrown his gift back in his face. But what was the gift, really? He’d thought it was the future he’d given her but actually, it was just a different set of four walls. Four walls she didn’t want as all they needed was already housed within these ones. Four walls that were perhaps more structurally sound and painted in a more expensive color probably called Honeydew Kiss.

Her steps were hesitant when she came downstairs. As he’d predicted she was wearing leggings, a large jumper and big woolly socks. Her hair had been pulled into a knot, probably to keep it out of the way during bath time and some tendrils had fallen down. Still a bit damp they curled more than usual, the twists in them picking up the light and glinting like embers. Entering the room eventually she sat down on the low coffee table, on the longer edge so she wasn’t facing him directly but looking over the back of the couch into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I got angry earlier.”

He nodded in acceptance of her apology, knowing it cost her as much as it did him to admit fault.

“I know you’re used to certain....things. The way you grew up, it was so different to my childhood. We never wanted for anything, never had to go hungry or anything. But there was nothing extravagant. But we were happy. I’d see other families or hear my friends speaking of theirs and I didn’t hear the same story from them. It made me realize I was lucky. My family was lucky.” She looked down, still not meeting his eyes. Toying with her wedding band, twisting it around her finger she made his insides freeze. Was she trying to take it off? A ring that had stayed on her finger thirteen years and spending a few weeks with him would make her take it off?

“Ginny-”

“Let me finish.” She finally turned around so she was facing him from the edge of the low coffee table. “I was angry with you when I came back. I was angry you don’t think enough of the house we have and the schools our children go to. That you don’t think our family is enough as it is.”

“That’s not-”

“Hush, I’m almost done.” She put a hand on his knee, leaned forward. “But as I was putting the kids to sleep I realized something. We’re happy, Draco. We’d be happy if we lived in a shed or a mansion in Kensington. It’s just walls.” Looking up, taking in the somewhat tidy living room. “I pictured Evie and Liam growing up here. I saw us growing old here. But we’ll still do that, no matter where we are. If it makes you happy, Draco, then we’ll go to the house in Kensington.”

Expecting to feel pleasure rush through him at her acquiescing all he felt was a warmth spreading in his stomach. She didn’t want to go, but she would, for him. Ginny loved this house and the life they already had but she would leave it if he asked it of her. The new walls, clothes and things paled in comparison, faded into the background like a lamp moved from a room, leaving it in darkness. His family was happy here, why would he do anything to upset that?

“No.” He reached for her, pulled her closer and felt her comply, settling on his lap. Her back bowed under his hand, her knees pulled up under his other hand as her head settled in the crook of his neck. “No, we don’t need it. This is our home.” The crown of her hair was tucked under his chin and he could smell her shampoo, the same she’d always used with its no nonsense clean scent. Her heart was beating in slow, heavy beats and her skin was warm under the big jumper. That was home. Ginny was his home. “No, we’ll stay. The house doesn’t matter.”

And it didn’t. Looking out at the room over her head he knew it to be true. This house held their life. The clutter and the mess was just part of it. There was Evie’s treasured toy train that would one day drive him completely insane but had survived this long because it made her laugh, a deep belly giggle of joy every time the little cat conductor popped up and announced it was time to go, go, go. Liam’s trike, overturned as part of a horrendous three way collision with his Batmobile and a firetruck. In a basket sat Ginny’s knitting that she picked up whenever she thought a TV show got dull, her hands moving without her looking, the stitches taking form under her fingers as if by magic. A muggle alarm clock he had been attempting to fix laid open, its guts of screws and cogs spread over the table. Could he picture them doing the same in a cold, impersonal house in Kensington? Liam wouldn’t be allowed to ride his trike over the old floors, Evie wouldn’t be able to fall asleep seeing the stars Ginny had painted in luminescent color over her bed. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he would like it more. To be back surrounded by antique chairs you couldn’t lounge in, a neighbouring association that threatened lynching if you let your grass get a quarter of an inch too long, a living room you couldn’t let yourself leave empty teacups or the paper out in. That wasn’t a home, that was a museum you could stay in after closing.

“It really doesn’t.” Ginny put a hand on his chest so she could sit up slightly. “I love this house but anywhere you are is home to me, Draco.”

“I love you, Ginny. I just forgot for a minute that we already have all that matters. You and our children is all that really matter to me.”

“That’s good to hear. I was afraid you had changed your mind about choosing your inheritance over me thirteen years later.”

Of course. It clicked into place. Of course his father would take away his money for marrying a Weasley, the sick bastard. That was why they were living in this house, why they had no money. His company had originally been funded by the Malfoy wealth and if it never got the chance to grow beyond it then his father would have been able to take it from him.

“I would choose you again over it in a heartbeat, Ginny. It’s just money.” Pulling her closer he felt fear grab at him. He would give it up but would it help? He didn’t know if this was reality, but nothing had ever felt as real as Ginny, warm and breathing in his arms. This was the reality he wanted. Screw his corner office, his London apartment, his trips to Biarritz. He wanted Ginny. He wanted Liam and Evie and he wanted to go to work with formula on his ugly jumper with Liam’s chatter in his head and the taste of Ginny on his lips.

That was all.

o.O.o

A surprise snowfall at the beginning of February made the neighbourhood grumble and delighted Liam and Evie. The youngest Malfoy was bundled up and resembled a round gnome where she sat in the snow, laughing at nothing more than the flakes falling from the sky. In front of her Ginny was building a lopsided snowman, roughly the same height as the sitting baby. His wife was wrapped up in a similar fashion to his daughter but somehow looked appealing despite the layers. There was snow stuck to her lashes and the trailing curls falling out of the light blue ski cap.

“I think your snowman is tilting.” She looked up, smiling as she pushed some hair out of the way with a mitten covered hand.

“I meant it to. This is no generic snowman. This is art.”

“Oh, of course. Is it also meant to be a living art piece?”

“What?”

“Well, your daughter is eating parts of it. Very avant garde.” Ginny glanced back to see Evie happily pushing a glob of snow as big as her fist against her face.

“As a matter of fact. It’s a commentary on capitalism.”

Laughing Draco grabbed the front of her jacket and pulled her close for a kiss. Ginny’s lips curved under his. They were cold and tasted of the hot chocolate they’d had. The contact with his warmed them and feeling a similar heat wake in his stomach the tender moment was interrupted by something hitting him in the back.

“I got you! I got you!”

Breaking the kiss he turned to find Liam dancing triumphantly in place.

“Right in the back!”

“Okay, I have to go push our son into a snowdrift. Teach him respect for his elders.”

“I understand. Do be gentle, he’s my firstborn. I have a soft spot for him.”

“Just for you.” He pressed a peck to her smiling mouth before turning his attention to Liam. “Okay, you’re dead.”

Shrieking in delight the boy set off, snow spurting under his winter boots. Following, adjusting his pace to the shorter legs he was chasing he chuckled. After a minute of chase he caught Liam, hauling him off his feet and tossing him in the air. Pretending to drop him he sunk to the ground, the boy landing on top. Rolling over he growled,

“So, little menace, which snowdrift do you want to go in first?”

The squirming, laughing boy stilled, his eyes widening.

“Daddy! You’re back!” Flinging his arms around Draco he hugged him as hard as his little frame could manage. “You came back, I knew you would!”

Hugging his son back the love that filled him threatened to spill over and he kissed the top of the golden head.

“Of course.” He tried to clear the choke in his voice. “I’ll always come for you, Liam. Wherever I am, I’ll always come for you.”


o.O.o


The snow had made the drive slippery and knowing Liam liked to race to the car he figured he might put some salt on, avoid disaster. Finding it in the garage he waved the others in. He’d just leave it to do its job and then go in and join them for dinner. Setting the bag of salt on the bottom step he crouched to get it open.

Evening was falling, soft and quiet like the snow that was still sinking gently to the ground. In the twilight the person behind him didn’t have a shadow and it was only when he turned he spotted them. Jumping in surprise he took a step back.

“Merlin, announce yourself! Scared me half to death.” He dropped the scoop for the salt. “Can I help you?”

“The question is, have I helped you?” Frowning it took Draco a moment to recognise the figure. It was the old man from the corner shop. The person who’d peered at him strangely before he’d woken up in Ginny’s bed.

“You!”

“Hello again, Draco.”

Glancing back at the house he shifted slightly, as if to protect the ones inside.

“How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you. Even things you don’t know yourself.”

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t really matter. Call me an unknown benefactor. I wanted to open your eyes to possibilities. You needed to sort out your priorities if you were ever going to be happy.”

“Well, you got me. I’m happy now, so your work is done.”

“Draco, this isn’t real. This isn’t what you chose when it mattered.”

“It’s what I choose now. You can just go.” He took a step back, wanting to get away from the nutcase and the power he had over his life. This life. The life he wanted.

“That’s not how it works. This is just a glimpse. A peek into what could have been.”

“Now it’s what is. This is my life now.”

“It’s not. It can be similar but this life depended on you choosing it.”

“Why would you do this to me? Why would you show this just to take it away? How is that going to make me happy?”

“Happiness is something you earn for yourself, it’s not something that’s in my power to give.”

Fear as he’d never known before gripped his heart. This was real again, he stood to lose everything. All he now knew he needed. Ginny, Liam, Evie. He could lose his wife, his children. Their house, their life.

“Please. Please, don’t take this away. Just let me stay here. They need me. I need them.”

“You get to say goodbye. But this is the end of the glimpse, Draco Malfoy.” With that the old man seemed to disappear into the air, like smoke carried away by wind.

“Wait!”

Sinking down on the bottom step he felt his body grow leaden. From inside the house he could hear Liam’s high voice and Ginny’s laugh. Leaning his head in his hands he just sat, unable to move. What was he going to do? He had no control over this world. In the last few weeks he’d almost forgotten this wasn’t actually his life. Though it wasn’t it was now his world. His world was ending, sitting on a suburban porch step, a bag of grit next to him. That wasn’t where he wanted to be. If his world was ending he wanted to be with his family.

With his muscles heavy and uncooperative he rose, walking up the steps like a man to his execution. Outside the front door he laid his head against the cold wood, taking a minute to listen to the cadence of voices inside. Ginny’s warm, amused. Liam’s, high and excited. His own, deeper and calmer was missing. As it would continue to be.

He hadn’t cried in over thirteen years but suddenly hot tears burnt at the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t right. Who was heartless enough to give him everything only to take it away?

With a deep breath he collected himself, blinked the tears away. If this was all he would get then he would make the best of it.

Four hours later he was sitting up in bed. He had put Evie and Liam to bed. Reading to Liam, humming to Evie. Felt their warm little bodies grow relaxed next to his. He’d made love to Ginny with a screaming desperation inside him. He’d kissed her goodnight like it was the last time. Now he was trying to stay awake, keeping every last feature of her locked away in his memories, hoarding the details like treasure.

The soft locks spilling over the pillow. The rounded shoulder over the covers, for once not covered in flannel. The softness of her skin, the dusting of freckles over it. How her breaths sounded in the darkened room. How her lips had tasted under his. How she rose against him when he made love to her. The sighs and whispers that had spilled over her lips. The sound of his name, breathed softly as she caught his lips in a soft kiss. Her eyes, the shift in them when pleasure clouded them. If he couldn’t have them then he would remember the moments when he could. When he had it, had her.

She was all he wanted.

The last thought in his head before sleep took him was one word.

Please.

When he woke, he didn’t know where he was for a moment. Then he realized he was staring at his impersonal London flat bedroom. There was no one but him in the large bed. No children were making noise in the next room. Tossing the covers off, he rushed into the walk in closet, pulled on the closest things he could find and Apparated to his office.

His secretary blinked in surprise when she saw him. He hadn’t seen her in months but he guessed she’d seen him only yesterday she and was wondering what had happened to her usually neat as a pin boss. Wearing jeans, mismatched socks and a jumper, his hair tangled and his eyes wild, he probably looked like he’d just rolled out of bed to her. Which he, to be fair, just had.

“Do you have the note of Ginny Weasley’s address?”

“Who?”

“The woman who called...yesterday.”

“Oh, the ex?” She began digging through the piles on her desk. “I think I do. Did you remember there was something you needed in the stuff she had? I’m happy to go pick it up for you, you know. I know you have that board meeting today.”

“Screw the board meeting. I’m going there.”

His secretary looked up in surprise.

“Mr. Malfoy, you called this meeting.”

“And now I’m cancelling it. It’s Christmas Day, isn’t it? Don’t people have families to see? Tell them all to go home. And find me that address.”

If her position had allowed her, he was sure his secretary would be rolling her eyes at him. But he paid well so she just shrugged in her elegant suit jacket and continued to look.

“Ah, here it is. 5… Grindylogg Place? I must’ve taken that down wrong, I’m really sorry.”

“No, I know it.” He grabbed the post it from her hand and turned on his heel. “Oh, thank you. And merry Christmas. You go home too.” He called over his shoulder, then he was off, not seeing her sitting, blinking in surprise in her ergonomic chair.

Disappearing into his office, he Apparated the second the door closed behind him, arriving on a small cobbled lane in Wizarding London a moment later. Number five was a pretty, dark pink house with small wrought iron balconies. The main door was open and two wizards were hovering a mattress through it. Someone was clearly moving.

Squeezing past them he took the stairs two at a time. Finding a flat with the door open and boxes piled outside he burst in.

Inside was a cozy, split level flat. A tiny kitchen and living room with stairs up to a loft bedroom. Though most of the stuff had been stripped, he could see Ginny in it.

“Ginny?”

The two people in the room turned, neither of them who he was looking for. Neither were they anyone he’d expect.

“Zabini?” His voice was as incredulous as when the other Slytherin had seen him working for Arthur Weasley. The Blaise Zabini here though looked little like the slick, powerful CEO he had met. He was dressed in faded jeans, a jumper and a corduroy jacket of all things. Tortoiseshell glasses brought a further professorial look to his handsome features. His hand was resting on the shoulder of a petite woman with long, blonde hair.

She was dressed in a long, full skirt bringing Edwardian times to mind and a t-shirt with a band logo tucked into the narrow waist of the skirt. A long necklace rattled when she moved. It took him a minute to place her, digging deep into the recesses of his memory.

“Lovegood?”

“Malfoy?” The former Slytherin looked surprised, but not as surprised as Draco. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m looking for Ginny. What are you doing here?”

“We’re helping Ginny move.”

The way he said it had Draco’s jaw dropping.

“You’re… you’re together. You and Lovegood.”

“We’re married, yes.” His voice was curt with impatience. He’d probably been met with similar incredulity before. “Why do you need to see Ginny?”

“Blaise, stop being contrary,” Luna’s dreamy voice interrupted. Age had deepened it and the slow, floating quality had taken on something vaguely sexy. “Ginny went to the Apparition terminal early. We’re helping her finish packing up.”

“The Apparition terminal. She’s really moving out of the country?”

“Yeah, she’s been offered a great place with the Pixies.”

“The Pittsburgh Pixies? She’s moving to the States?” The irony wasn’t lost on him but he didn’t appreciate it one bit.

“You can probably still catch her. Her Apparition window opens at half past.”

The second the pop of him disappearing sounded as Blaise turned to his wife.

“Are you going to be smug now?”

“Of course not. I’m always right, why would this time be any different? I’ve never been smug before.”

The former Slytherin shook his head with a laugh.

“I’m not sure Ginny’s going to appreciate your interfering.”

Some of the dreamy quality in Luna’s voice disappeared as she snorted derisively. “Well, then she should have stopped being so stubborn. She still has feelings for him but refuses to admit it. And he’d forgotten all about what was important over in his ivory tower in the financial district. They both needed a good wake up call.”

“Fine, fine. I’m just saying maybe you shouldn’t tell them you 'helped'. And I’ll be glad if they can sort it. It means I never have to see you disguised as an old man again. That was just off-putting.”

“There’s beauty in all people.”

“Sure, but I’m not going to have sex with an old, toothless, bearded man. Not even for you.” He bent over her. “Blonde goddesses with eyes like liquid silver, however…” Kissing her, he was glad he hadn’t been as short-sighted as his Slytherin house mate. He knew what made his world whole.


o.O.o


Bursting into the terminal, Draco ran down the length of the hall, scanning the crowd for her red hair. His heart was beating hard in his chest, the adrenaline making his legs feel weak. Whipping around, he looked the other way, turned back. There!

He spotted the unmistakable fiery curls and set off. She was almost at the front of the line, her focus on the book in her hands.

“Ginny! Ginny!”

Disoriented, not expecting to hear her name, she looked up. Spotting him, her eyes widened in surprise. She looked a little different to his Ginny. She was a little leaner, her hair a bit shorter. Quidditch career, he reminded herself. But the oversized jumper and the big socks in sturdy boots made his heart soar.

“Draco?” Surprise made her ask more if it was really him than what he was doing there.

“Ginny, I need to speak to you.” He took a step forward as she did, the queue moving.

“Draco, I’m sort of in a hurry. Can it wait?”

“No, it can’t wait. It’s important. Please?”

She glanced behind her, hoisted the bag strapped over her shoulder higher.

“One minute,” she said curtly and stepped out of the queue to let others pass. Crossing her arms she raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m surprised you’re here. If you wanted anything, I was sure you’d send your secretary.” A stab of shame pierced him as he knew before his glimpse that would have been true.

“I...That’s fair. Or it used to be. Ginny, something happened. Something...amazing. It was bizarre and I’m not altogether sure it wasn’t a dream but I just needed to see you. I had to come to…” He halted himself. He couldn’t just blurt out they’d both be much happier if they got married and moved to their tiny house. In reality he hadn’t spoken to her, not as much as seen her in thirteen years. Suddenly jumping to a life together would make it seem like he’d lost his marbles, at best.

“...to apologise. I wanted to say I’m sorry. For what happened between us. I know it was a long time ago but it was my fault. I promised you I would come back for you and I didn’t. I let you go and I’ve regretted it ever since. I might not have realised but I missed you every single day. I broke my promise to you and I’m so sorry for it.”

Uncertainly Ginny fiddled with the strap of the bag again. Her eyes flew to the queue where people were climbing up to the platform to pop away.

“That’s...nice of you. But it was a long time ago, Draco. I appreciate you coming all this way but I’m fine now. You broke my heart once but it’s healed. I’m okay. And I’m on my way to the chance of a lifetime so…”

She began to turn away.

“Wait!” He pushed his hair out of his eyes, searched for the words. “Ginny, wait. Do you remember the last time we were here and you were asking me to stay back, to start a family with you?”

She stopped, still half turned away.

“I saw it. I don’t know how but somehow I was given a...glimpse. A glimpse of what would have been if I’d stayed then. And Ginny, it was...perfect. It was all I could have ever dreamed. More than I would have dreamed. We had a house. It wasn’t grand and Merlin knows it could use some new plumbing and a coat of paint but we loved it. It was ours. We were happy there, close to your parents, to our friends.”

She wasn’t looking at him but she had tilted her head slightly so he knew she was listening.

“We had two kids. Liam and Evie. Liam is a spitfire, he’s so smart and he talks a million miles a minute. He loves trains and Quidditch and making his toy cars collide in massive pile ups. He loves to swim but he’s afraid of getting water in his eyes and sometimes he complains there’s a monster with three heads in the closet. You have to leave the nightlight on so it can’t reach him because the light of it burns the monster.”

He took a step closer.

“And Evie. Evie’s the baby. She can’t speak yet but we know she will any day. You can see her watching and listening all the time and she’s so close now. You can almost see the words in her eyes. Your dad says so too. We know she’s smart. She loves her teddy bear mobile and finger-paints. One day when I came home, she’d painted your face with it and you were both laughing like loons. She hates mushy peas, we have that in common. Though she throws them across the room to let her feelings be known. And you, Ginny, you’re… you’re the hub of the family. Your children adore you. You’re beautiful, strong, warm and you still make me laugh like when we met. I can’t picture being with anyone else now. Not when I know what it’s like to be married to you.”

She finally turned back to him, her jaw dropping.

“We don’t have a lot of money but it doesn’t matter because we have each other and I’d forgotten - I can’t believe I managed - I’d forgotten what that was like. It was like waking up and having won the lottery every single day. Do you understand, Ginny? I found my way back and I knew I have never stopped loving you. I never will.” The words rushed out of him, tripping over the one in front and slipping like marbles emptied from a bag.

“Draco…” She blinked, her eyes fastened to the floor. “These are pretty words. Words I would have killed for thirteen years ago. Hell, even five years ago. But I’m moving to America. I’ve made my mind up. They’re expecting me.”

“I understand that. I do. I’d never stop you doing what you want. America isn’t far away. I’m not making the same mistake again. I can work from anywhere. Or not. I just know I want another chance at you. At us. I’ll trade anything for it.”

Throwing up her hands she met his eyes again, temper flashing in hers.

“Draco, what do you want from me?”

“Have coffee with me.”

“What?”

“Have coffee with me. Take the next Apparition window. Just one coffee.” He pulled out the smile he’d seen his son use to great effect. “I’ll buy you a cookie.”

For a moment she just stood, temper still alive in her eyes. Then a small smile crooked her lips.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt. Especially since I’ve probably called you all the worst names.” She gave a last glance at the queue behind her. “Fine. One coffee.”

o.O.o


Late on Christmas Day with snow falling outside the large floor to ceiling windows in the Apparition terminal two people remained long after the café had closed. In their world little else existed outside the small, round table where they were sitting. A blond man and a redheaded woman were talking, their voices too quiet to echo in the almost empty hall. Sometimes their mingled laughs would ring out, heralding something to come. There was a closeness to how they sat, how they bent their heads to listen to what the other was saying that spoke of an intimacy greater than holding hands or kissing would. This was the picture of something starting. Something born of the ashes yet no less beautiful for it.


o.O.o


Epilogue


Eight years later to the day, Draco Malfoy woke with a start when the bedroom door was slammed open. Liam’s high voice was singing his favored version of Jingle Bells and in a moment he felt the first weight land on him. The dog. A moment later a sharp knee jabbed him in the side. Liam. And finally the boy dropped his sister rather unceremoniously on his chest.

“Oomph.”

“Just five more minutes, Draco.” Ginny turned, still half asleep - a minor wonder - and slung a leg over his.

“No sleep, mummy, Santa’s hewe!” He could feel rather than see Liam bounce as he announced this news. Pushing the covers down with regret, Draco peered over the edge at his son. He was wearing footie pyjamas with gingerbread men on them and a huge grin. His blond hair was sticking up on one side and his cheeks were still flushed from sleep.

“No, really?”

“Yes, and there are a hundwed presents in my stocking. It’s all full.”

“A hundred? Did you count all of them?”

Liam nodded sagely.

“Well, go get them and we’ll have a look. Get Evie’s too.” In a flash, his son was up and out of the room. Lifting Evie into his arms he sat up. “Wake up, sunshine.”

“Do I have to? Why do we always leave wrapping the presents until Christmas Eve? Why don’t we learn? We should start earlier.”

“I did learn something from the past years. For example, to keep our coffee up here.” He pulled the thermos with the heating spell on it from under the bed.

Ginny cracked an eye open.

“You have coffee?”

“Yes, but only for good girls who sit up.”

With a groan she pulled herself up, leaning against the headboard.

“I’m up.”

“Here you go.” He handed her a mug and she took a deep gulp. When she opened her eyes again the sleep had almost cleared from them.

“You are the best husband ever. Have I told you I love you today?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I do.” She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Tasting coffee and sleep on her he felt the morning brighten further.

“Mummy kiss Daddy.” A small voice they had only heard utter gibberish before interrupted them and surprised they broke apart, staring at their daughter.

“Did you hear that?”

“I did. Evie, what did you say?”

Proud, the small redheaded bundle laughed and bounced on Draco’s lap. “Kiss, kiss, kiss.”

“I knew it. I knew you were the smartest baby ever. Not just a word but a whole sentence. Just wait until your grandpa hears this. It’s the best Christmas gift ever.”

Showering praise over Evie she beamed, repeating her new word. Compliantly they kissed her, kissed each other and kissed the dog. Delighted with the new game Evie pointed at things and said “kiss”. Draco drew the line at kissing his socks from yesterday that hadn’t made it to the laundry basket.

Before Evie could make her displeasure over this known, Liam returned with the two stockings. They were almost as long as he was tall and he staggered slightly under their bulk. Clambering back into their bed, he joyfully set about the task of opening gifts. Evie mostly enjoyed the wrapping paper but Liam gleefully exclaimed at each unwrapped treasure.

Watching their children, their hands joined under the covers Draco treasured something himself. He already knew his best Christmas gift, but it wasn’t something that could be unwrapped. In fact he wouldn’t even see it until summer. Ginny had just told him last night, and though he had had his suspicions he hadn’t been sure until she told him. Another child. A baby in July.

Nine years ago he had thought he was happy. What he’d been was ignorant. He’d thought a corner office and a good share price had been the height of happiness. Now he knew it was nothing of the sort. He’d sold Malfoy Holdings and though he could be easily defined as financially independent he’d insisted on the small house in Ottery St Catchpole he’d lived in once before. The plumbing was updated and the children wore less hand-me-downs than in his glimpse but most of the rest remained the same. Retired from Quidditch since Liam was born, Ginny had taken up coaching it to kids. Draco had, much to his own surprise, set up his own muggle contraption shop. Arthur Weasley was co-owner and delighted to join his son-in-law’s venture.

It may not be exactly like his glimpse but it was a hundred times better because it was his reality. It wasn’t a fabrication but his life. He wouldn’t trade back for anything. Because now he knew what it really meant to be happy.

It meant his wife’s body next to his in their bed, with their children laughing next to them on Christmas morning. It meant hearing her sing off key in the shower and watching Liam concentrate on his homework, his tongue tucked in the corner of his mouth as he focused. It meant hearing Evie’s breaths grow deeper as she fell asleep and her first babble on the baby monitor in the morning.

It meant family. And he had it, to have and to hold, now and forever more, thanks to someone making him reassess his priorities. That had been the best Christmas gift he had ever received, because it had led him here. Led him home.

The End