Draco Malfoy’s memory was exquisitely, almost painfully exact. It had always been a particular curse – all too often, he found that the perpetual vividness of his worst, most painful recollections haunted him, denying him peace or forgiveness –
But there were times when it proved a blessing. He remembered Ginny – even in the darkest, most terrifying hours, he remembered Ginny.
He remembered her smile, her laugh, her taste, and he remembered Julian, his son, his hope for a new generation.
It had been such a very, very long time since he’d seen them, since he’d held them close, breathing softly, peacefully, safe and trusting in his arms. But now he was on his way home, back to his family, where he could see them again, hold them again in truth, rather than in his dreams…
He stepped off the ship’s boarding plank, shrugging his collar up and drawing his cloak closer about him. He’d forgotten how cold it was in England –
“I-d-dentification please, sir,” a young, pale, pinch-faced Ministry guard stood on the docks, shivering wretchedly in the cold, winter wind.
Draco sighed. “Here.” He handed over his fake passport and documents. The shivering guard peered at him, frowning.
“Aren’t you…?”
Draco flicked him a long, cool, dangerous look. Though he had chosen to reject his father’s path, he still knew very well how to intimidate and manipulate other, lesser men; under the icy lash of his cold, grey gaze, the naïve guard dropped his eyes and gave in.
“Thank you,” he said dryly, took back his documents, and pushed past the guard onto English soil.
**********
“Mistress Ginny!” Libby, the housekeeper of the Malfoy townhouse, sidled up to Ginny nervously, bowing and wringing her hands. “Mistress Ginny, Libby has a message for you…”
Ginny raised her eyes from the cat’s cradle she was building with Julian. They were sitting in the park once again, taking advantage of the rare winter sunshine.
“What is it?” she asked, surprised that the dignified house elf would actually leave her house and venture so far in search of her. Surely, it could have waited until she returned.
Libby looked left and right, leaning in in an exaggerated manner as she whispered in Ginny’s ear. “Remember halcyon romance…”
Ginny froze. “What?”
Libby dipped her fingers into the small, grubby apron and held out an old, battered ring-brooch that Ginny hadn’t seen for four years. It was the only portkey in existence keyed to the magical wards of Malfoy Manor. Draco had hidden it, on that last, horrible night…
“What is it, Mama?” Julian asked, alarmed. Ginny wiped her hands over her cheeks, dashing away the tears, and smiled bravely at her son. Merlin, his eyes were so much like Draco’s…
“Look, Julian,” she said, drawing his attention to the brooch in Libby’s hands. “Your father has returned.”
************
“What’s she saying?” Shacklebolt asked, sitting up straight and staring at the house elf. Swearing, he fumbled for his magical binoculars, magnifying the zoom so that he could see their mouths move – but all he saw was Ginny Malfoy’s face as she stood up, took the boy’s hand, and walked over to them.
Uncomfortable, more than a little embarrassed at being so caught out, Shacklebolt dropped the binoculars, cleared his throat, and stood up as his mother had taught him.
“Mrs. Malfoy,” he said, not recognizing the look in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Is there another threat?”
“Kingsley,” she said, laughing, “He’s back.” She whirled Julian up off the ground and spun in a circle, whooping with laughter and joy. “He’s back!”
Before he could say anything else, she reached out and grabbed hold of the house elf’s hand, there was a dizzying pull, and then they were gone.
***********
They landed on a hill overlooking the estate.
It was as beautiful as she remembered – but so very different. Six years ago, Malfoy Manor had been a tall, proud mansion surrounded by lush, sweeping lawns and beautifully cultivated gardens; now, the gardens had grown wild and overgrown and the forest had encroached on the lawns. Where before it had been picture perfect, now it was wild, like Sleeping Beauty’s maze –
Julian looked about him with awe. As they walked down the hill towards the stream, she put him down and showed him the estate that would one day be his – it was stretched out before him, lush and fertile, and he laughed, already showing signs of Malfoy acquisitiveness.
And then, as they entered the small wood, she caught a flash of white.
************
He saw her coming, the boy trailing along after her, and moved out from behind the tree. They were, of course, at the very same spot where he had proposed to her, under the dappled canopy along the banks of the stream.
“Draco,” she said, when they finally came face to face. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was exactly as he remembered her, the red hair, and the dark, expressive eyes – but there was something else. More shadows, more pain, more doubt…
“Hello, Gin,” he said with a wry smile. The smile tugged at the taut, slick new scar, where one of the bastards had cut him with a whip –
Her eyes darkened, and her breath rushed out in shock. Her hands flew up to his face, to the scar, and he could see the frantic speculation – where else was he hurt? What had happened to him? What price had he paid, for their safety?
“No,” he whispered, gently taking her hand away. “No, it’s nothing. As long as you and Julian are safe, it was nothing.”
“Draco,” she said once again. Her voice caught. “Draco, you idiot.” She clenched her fist and punched him, hard. He took a step back in surprise. “You fool!” She punched him again. “Since when have you ever played the gallant Gryffindor? Don’t you ever do anything like that, ever again!”
He caught her fist before she could hit him again. She fell forward onto his chest, and began to shake. “Ginny…? What?”
She lifted her head and scowled at him, but her eyes were dark with tears. “I thought you, of all people, could be counted on to survive and come back.”
He grinned, and hugged her tightly. “I came back, didn’t I?”
“Four years late!” She glared at him furiously.
He laughed. “Would you rather I wait a while longer –”
“No.” She wrapped her arms round his waist and squeezed. He pretended to gasp for air, and she slackened her grip, hugging him. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Papa!”
Draco blinked. Over her shoulder, he could see Julian running towards them, his small face alight with joy and anticipation and…uncertainty. Releasing Ginny, he knelt down so that he was almost at eye-level with the boy. They watched each other, father and son, and Draco could not believe how much he had grown in four years –
Nor could he believe the power of his protective instinct as he saw the clenched, trembling fists, and the tight jaw as his son struggled not to cry.
“Hello Julian,” he said. Ginny knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
Julian looked at them both, his lower lip quivering. Ginny nudged Draco with an elbow. Hastily, he opened his arms, and Julian rushed into them, throwing his arms tightly around his neck.
Draco picked him up, put an arm around his wife, and together they went back up the hill towards the Manor.
******************
FIN
******************
But there were times when it proved a blessing. He remembered Ginny – even in the darkest, most terrifying hours, he remembered Ginny.
He remembered her smile, her laugh, her taste, and he remembered Julian, his son, his hope for a new generation.
It had been such a very, very long time since he’d seen them, since he’d held them close, breathing softly, peacefully, safe and trusting in his arms. But now he was on his way home, back to his family, where he could see them again, hold them again in truth, rather than in his dreams…
He stepped off the ship’s boarding plank, shrugging his collar up and drawing his cloak closer about him. He’d forgotten how cold it was in England –
“I-d-dentification please, sir,” a young, pale, pinch-faced Ministry guard stood on the docks, shivering wretchedly in the cold, winter wind.
Draco sighed. “Here.” He handed over his fake passport and documents. The shivering guard peered at him, frowning.
“Aren’t you…?”
Draco flicked him a long, cool, dangerous look. Though he had chosen to reject his father’s path, he still knew very well how to intimidate and manipulate other, lesser men; under the icy lash of his cold, grey gaze, the naïve guard dropped his eyes and gave in.
“Thank you,” he said dryly, took back his documents, and pushed past the guard onto English soil.
**********
“Mistress Ginny!” Libby, the housekeeper of the Malfoy townhouse, sidled up to Ginny nervously, bowing and wringing her hands. “Mistress Ginny, Libby has a message for you…”
Ginny raised her eyes from the cat’s cradle she was building with Julian. They were sitting in the park once again, taking advantage of the rare winter sunshine.
“What is it?” she asked, surprised that the dignified house elf would actually leave her house and venture so far in search of her. Surely, it could have waited until she returned.
Libby looked left and right, leaning in in an exaggerated manner as she whispered in Ginny’s ear. “Remember halcyon romance…”
Ginny froze. “What?”
Libby dipped her fingers into the small, grubby apron and held out an old, battered ring-brooch that Ginny hadn’t seen for four years. It was the only portkey in existence keyed to the magical wards of Malfoy Manor. Draco had hidden it, on that last, horrible night…
“What is it, Mama?” Julian asked, alarmed. Ginny wiped her hands over her cheeks, dashing away the tears, and smiled bravely at her son. Merlin, his eyes were so much like Draco’s…
“Look, Julian,” she said, drawing his attention to the brooch in Libby’s hands. “Your father has returned.”
************
“What’s she saying?” Shacklebolt asked, sitting up straight and staring at the house elf. Swearing, he fumbled for his magical binoculars, magnifying the zoom so that he could see their mouths move – but all he saw was Ginny Malfoy’s face as she stood up, took the boy’s hand, and walked over to them.
Uncomfortable, more than a little embarrassed at being so caught out, Shacklebolt dropped the binoculars, cleared his throat, and stood up as his mother had taught him.
“Mrs. Malfoy,” he said, not recognizing the look in her eyes. “What’s wrong? Is there another threat?”
“Kingsley,” she said, laughing, “He’s back.” She whirled Julian up off the ground and spun in a circle, whooping with laughter and joy. “He’s back!”
Before he could say anything else, she reached out and grabbed hold of the house elf’s hand, there was a dizzying pull, and then they were gone.
***********
They landed on a hill overlooking the estate.
It was as beautiful as she remembered – but so very different. Six years ago, Malfoy Manor had been a tall, proud mansion surrounded by lush, sweeping lawns and beautifully cultivated gardens; now, the gardens had grown wild and overgrown and the forest had encroached on the lawns. Where before it had been picture perfect, now it was wild, like Sleeping Beauty’s maze –
Julian looked about him with awe. As they walked down the hill towards the stream, she put him down and showed him the estate that would one day be his – it was stretched out before him, lush and fertile, and he laughed, already showing signs of Malfoy acquisitiveness.
And then, as they entered the small wood, she caught a flash of white.
************
He saw her coming, the boy trailing along after her, and moved out from behind the tree. They were, of course, at the very same spot where he had proposed to her, under the dappled canopy along the banks of the stream.
“Draco,” she said, when they finally came face to face. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. She was exactly as he remembered her, the red hair, and the dark, expressive eyes – but there was something else. More shadows, more pain, more doubt…
“Hello, Gin,” he said with a wry smile. The smile tugged at the taut, slick new scar, where one of the bastards had cut him with a whip –
Her eyes darkened, and her breath rushed out in shock. Her hands flew up to his face, to the scar, and he could see the frantic speculation – where else was he hurt? What had happened to him? What price had he paid, for their safety?
“No,” he whispered, gently taking her hand away. “No, it’s nothing. As long as you and Julian are safe, it was nothing.”
“Draco,” she said once again. Her voice caught. “Draco, you idiot.” She clenched her fist and punched him, hard. He took a step back in surprise. “You fool!” She punched him again. “Since when have you ever played the gallant Gryffindor? Don’t you ever do anything like that, ever again!”
He caught her fist before she could hit him again. She fell forward onto his chest, and began to shake. “Ginny…? What?”
She lifted her head and scowled at him, but her eyes were dark with tears. “I thought you, of all people, could be counted on to survive and come back.”
He grinned, and hugged her tightly. “I came back, didn’t I?”
“Four years late!” She glared at him furiously.
He laughed. “Would you rather I wait a while longer –”
“No.” She wrapped her arms round his waist and squeezed. He pretended to gasp for air, and she slackened her grip, hugging him. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Papa!”
Draco blinked. Over her shoulder, he could see Julian running towards them, his small face alight with joy and anticipation and…uncertainty. Releasing Ginny, he knelt down so that he was almost at eye-level with the boy. They watched each other, father and son, and Draco could not believe how much he had grown in four years –
Nor could he believe the power of his protective instinct as he saw the clenched, trembling fists, and the tight jaw as his son struggled not to cry.
“Hello Julian,” he said. Ginny knelt down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.
Julian looked at them both, his lower lip quivering. Ginny nudged Draco with an elbow. Hastily, he opened his arms, and Julian rushed into them, throwing his arms tightly around his neck.
Draco picked him up, put an arm around his wife, and together they went back up the hill towards the Manor.
******************
FIN
******************
The End.
LadyRhiyana is the author of 16 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 34 members. Members who liked Don't Look Back also liked 1536 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 34 members. Members who liked Don't Look Back also liked 1536 other stories.
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