I knew that she would hate me for this but that didn't change my options. Just by looking at her you knew she was my daughter. The platinum blonde hair and the icy yet bright blue eyes and even the pale complexion. They were all from me. She had her mother's laugh though. How that little giggle brought back memories. I knew she would hate me for this; I just didn't have any other choice.
Looking down at the six year old (or young as she tells me) girl I knew so well I felt the undeniable twinge of guilt in my stomach. I had her memorized from everything to the way the light caught in her pale hair right down to the way she smiled at anything involving a fox. She knew that it had a connection to the mother she would never meet. She stood in the kitchen with Astoria who was making her a sandwich for lunch. I still couldn't believe I was doing this.

"Ready to go, Cory?" I asked her, my voice catching just a little.

"Yeah!" she squealed with excitement.

Then there was nothing but swirls of color and a loud snap as I apparated us to the one place I never thought I would have to see again. The grass seemed duller somehow and the cozy little cottage neared us with every step. The memories came flooding back. The flying lessons, the Forbidden Forest, everything. The all seemed so vivid as if they happened yesterday. But they happened more than six years ago. Maybe ten. She had no idea what was going on and she probably wouldn't until she was eleven when she realized that I wasn't coming back.

"Well, isn't it Draco Malfoy!" the old, now graying, half giant boomed as he opened the door.

"Hey Hagrid," I said, a half smile on my face and voice low.

Walking inside, everything was just the way I remembered it. Nothing had changed even a little bit. He stood behind me trying not to break the ice the way I knew he wanted to. When I had initially talked to him we had agreed to keep her oblivious to everything and just let her figure things out on her own. He reassured me that I could write to her and keep in contact. Astoria couldn't take that away from me.

Walking out of that hut was the most painful thing I had ever done in my life. I had left the only thing I had left of her in that hut. The only thing keeping me sane. My daughter. I would never forgive myself for what I had just done. I already knew she would never forgive me for this either. Neither of them would. I was prepared for hating myself. But what I would never be prepared for was that little girl hating me as much as I knew she would. Nothing in my life could ever prepare a father for his daughter hating him and actually meaning it.

I stood in the exact spot where we had our first encounter; her mother and I. Sure we had met before but that was unofficial. She was a Hufflepuff and I was a Slytherin. And we Slytherins were designed to hate any house besides our own. I had given her so much unnecessary drama in her life those first three years we had known the other existed. She was my favorite subject besides the Golden Trio. She was a Hufflepuff and a mudblood which just added to the hate that fueled my soul all those years ago:

I had just bashed the Hufflepuff when I saw Professor Snape standing in the entrance going into the Slytherin Common Room. My throat closed and my mouth went dry as I suddenly grasped why he was standing there. I had no evidence to my theory but I was right none-the-less as he said, "Mister Malfoy, a word in my office."
"Detention!" I screamed with fury, "What did I do!"

"Yes, Mister Malfoy," he droned, "You are to attend a proper Care for Magical Creatures class with Miss Evans. She is waiting for you outside by Professor Hagrid's hut. You are dismissed."

"But Professor, can't we just take a moment to discuss this!"

"Dismissed, Mister Malfoy."

With that I walked down to the grounds and muttered to myself ways I could possibly get out of this. Who was this Evans girl anyways?

But then I saw who he was talking about standing there with a line of hippogriffs. She wore a cranberry red sweater that hung off her slender shoulders and hung down to her mid-thigh where I noticed she wore brown, laid back styled pants and a pair of brown Birkenstocks. Her slightly dirty blonde hair was blowing in front of her rounded face by the slight breeze we had. Her chocolate brown eyes staring straight ahead at me; serious. A brown weaved thread with an ivory Indian styled elephant on it was tied around her neck.

"So, you're my student," she said a hint of venom in her voice.

"So, you're my teacher," I said a sly, confident smile on smirk on my face.

"Well," she said in a clipped tone, eager to get things going, "since we'll be spending a lot of time together I suppose you'll need to know my name."
"Wait, how long is this thing going to last?"

"As long as need be is what I was told, anyways, I'm Calliope Evans."

That name was forever burned in my mind.

"Draco Malfoy."