Two years after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, he disappeared, that was three years ago. No traces, no one knows where he went, not even me.

Why do I care? We hated each other in school. That was fake. We loved each other. So much that was I mean to him so that my father and Voldemort couldn't use me to get to him. I am a veela. No surprise there, I mean really, look at me, I'm handsome, gorgeous even. That's what Harry would always call me, 'Hey there gorgeous.'

My father died during the war, and mother was always on my side, she loves me, she knows about Harry. She knows what it's like to love someone and have them disappear. She isn't allowed to call me gorgeous any more, either is anyone else. They know what will happen if they do.

We told Harry's friends before the final battle, they were happy for him, even Ginny, which surprised me, even more surprising is the fast that I am friends with all of them.

Hermione has been the best to me, they're all great, don't get me wrong, but Hermione has been great, she even helps me care for mother sometimes, she's a dear.

We sent letters, but they always come back unopened, I won't give up though. He loved me I know he did, and I love him desperately. I have to take a potion to keep from going insane, but I'm still going slowly insane, the only 'cure' is Harry, my Harry.

I go into rages sometimes, about him leaving me, but when he left, in the letter he left; it has a spell on it that anytime someone said a certain line it would read out loud, then as long as I listen to the sound of his voice, not the words, I can go back to normal, well, normal for me at least.

Two months ago we moved to Finland, I know, it's odd, but mother had been wanting to move, and Finland was calling to me. We live in Vaasa; it's near the coast, by the Gulf of Bothnia in the Baltic Sea. It's a larger city; it's cold, but we like it. I have a job as first violin, in the touring orchestra group in the city. I've heard I'm very, very good.

We had adjusted very nicely, like we've lived here our whole lives. We already had a manor here, we have them everywhere, and no one's lived here in ages. Mother likes to take care of it herself; she says that it's something for here to do all day long.

I have a routine, after work every day I walk to the local café, The Mixed Rose, the first time I saw it; it caught my eyes. Harry used to call our group that, the Weasley's and us. He said that together we were beautiful like a rose, but mixed together like a blender. We only got it after he explained what a blender was. It always made everyone laugh when he said it, because the way he explained it wasn't very poetic, or creative, but I think that's what we liked about it; that it was Harry's saying.

Everyday, I read the paper as I drink my coffee or whatever I'm drinking that day. I always sit in the same place, a table by the windows, after I finish the paper, I watch the people walk by outside, wondering where they're going, what their lives are like, who's waiting for them at home.

After that I walk slowly home, where dinner and mother will be waiting, most night she goes right to bed after dinner, but sometimes I will read to her in the library. After that I usually go to the office, doing whatever needs to be done in there, or continue reading in the library.

One day that all changed, I was in The Mixed Rose, like always when a little girl came running though the café, heading to the back doors, "Daddy, Daddy, guess what we bought today!"

That wasn't odd, but her hair color was. It was the blond color only found in my family. I know it wasn't a Malfoy; we raise children better than that.

A woman came running after the child, "Rosalie! Rosalie, stop, your father is working right now!"

The name makes me pause again, Rosalie, I had mentioned the name to Harry one day, the main character in one of my books was named that, I had mentioned that it was a beautiful name.

I look at the woman, she had long red hair in a bun behind her head, she was a nanny, I noticed now. She had the cape and hat of a Finland nanny. "Mr. Larssen!" The words are muffled by the door that she had she passed though, but I still caught it. "So sorry Mr. Larssen, Rosalie wanted to show it to you so bad, I tried to keep her with me, away from your café, but,"

A guy interrupts her, "Its fine, Miss Smith, and remember, call me Jon." All is silent for a second between the adults, as the little girl goes on about the think she bought, suddenly Mr. Larssen asks, "Is he still out there, did he see her?"

"I'm not sure, I'm sorry, I forgot about it."

There's a pause again, "It's only four thirty, he's probably still here, and hopefully he didn't see her."

I hear Rosalie speak again, "Daddy, who are you talking about?"

I hear the smile in the man's voice, "No one sweetie, but remember, you're not supposed to be here until after five thirty." The voice reminds me of someone, I can't place it though.

"Sorry, daddy,"

I get up, leaving early. Thoughts racing though my head; I need to know who that little girl is, and if mother knows anything about her.

Over dinner I talk with mother, she knows of no Larssen families in our family, leaving me even more puzzled.

By the time I fall asleep I have a plan in my head; we don't have to work tomorrow, I will go to The Mixed Rose, and ask for Mr. Jon Larssen. If they ask who I am I will tell them that I have a question that can only be answered by him, which in a way I do.

I know it's not much of a plan, but it will work for now, my scheming ways leave me tonight, when I need them the most, go figure.

When I get up in the morning I put on my best cloths, mother knows what will happen today. She can feel my nervousness, yes I can get nervous, I am human! Well mostly human.

The veela in me is acting up at the thought of seeing Harry again, but my heart knows that this might not be him. I don't know why, but I have the feeling that he is close, even though our bond is cut off. I have a slight chance of hope that maybe Harry is here. I have to wait until one in the afternoon; it is a café after all. The day seems to pass slowly, even more slowly than the day of the final battle.

Dumbledore had given us as much time alone as he could that day, but it still wasn't enough for me. My veela side was acting up all day, knowing that Harry would be in danger that he could die. Before long we were pulled apart, Harry to make sure that he could do it, and I had to wait with the rest of the students, waiting for Voldemort to attack us. I was nervous, no way not to deny it, my veela side was crying out, wanting to protect my mate, to make sure that he was safe inside, but no one would allow it, especially Harry.

When it's finally one I wait till its one thirty. The girl behind the counter has brown hair, pulled back from her face, brown eyes, and no make-up, I'm impressed.

I walk up to her, my charming smile in place, the one that always got me what I wanted, "May I please see Mr. Larssen?"

She nods her head, her nametag says Karen, she smiles at me, "May I ask what you need to see him about?"

"I have a question that only he can answer,"

Karen nods her head again, and disappears out of view. I can hear her speaking with someone, when she comes out a man follows her.

He stops in front of me, "I'm Mr. Larssen; how may I help you?"

He doesn't fool me, this isn't him; his voice is different, I laugh and shake my head, "Yes, you can lead me to the real Mr. Larssen."

He looks back at me in confusion, "I am Mr. Larssen,"

I shake my head again, "No, you are a fake; I want to speak to the real owner of the café."

We go back at forth for a couple of minutes before they look at each other and sigh, Karen calls out back, "Mr. Larssen, someone wants to see you!"

"You know what to do!"

"We did that already,"

"What?" I can hear the surprise in his voice.

I laugh, Karen goes on, "We did that already, they knew it wasn't you."

"What do you mean? No one's figured it out before, three years, and no one has realized," I hear footsteps, and then they stop, close by. My eyes are closed, looking at the floor. Three years he said, Harry's been gone that long. I open them when I hear the person stop.

I let go of the breath I didn't know I was holding, but you seem to freeze. I take a step towards you, "Draco,"

I nod my head, walking towards you, "Harry,"

I stop a couple of feet away from you, "Haven't seen you for awhile." You don't say anything.

I think I'm in shock, I can't believe I finally found you. "The Mixed Rose, Rosalie," I smirk, "Do you like roses?"

Your eyes are wide, "Yeah, something like that."

I can't stop myself any longer, I push you against the nearest wall, attaching my lips to your. You reply instantly to me, wrapping your arms around me.

We both forget the people around us, and breathing, finding everything we missed in each other's arms, in our kiss.

When we break the kiss, I look into your deep emerald eyes, "You left me," I whisper it. It's a statement not an accusation.

"Yes, it was best,"

I shake my head, "Bull," I caress your cheek, "Why did you leave?"

"I was pregnant, didn't know, but I kept on dreaming about Lucius and Voldemort, I had to get away."

I close my eyes, opening them again, "Why didn't you take me with you?"

Your eyes close, tears slipping out, "I had to get away, I was going to come back to you, when I found out I was pregnant, but I kept on having those dreams, and they seemed so real, I didn't feel safe in England anymore."

"We could have moved, I would move to the end of the Earth if it made you happy, Harry." I rub my thumb over you cheek, "I woke up one morning to find a letter, you'd gone, leaving no traces, you'd gone muggle, leaving no magic to trail, and our veela bond was cut off. I feel empty, Harry."

Your tears fall faster, and suddenly hands are on me, pulling me back. The guy who was pretending to be you, standing in front of me, "I don't care who you are, I don't care what you, and I don't care if that really is Harry Potter, not Jon Larssen either, he is a good man, and you will not hurt him."

I glare at him, a reply on the top of my tongue, but you step in, "Its fine, Gustav, if you could all please leave."

They leave, and you turn to me, "How did you find me?"

"We moved here two months ago, mother wanted to move, and I wanted to come here, it was calling me. Then the other day, Rosalie came running in, her hair was what caught my attention. I heard you and the nanny talking in the back room, and this feeling wouldn't leave me alone. This morning I knew that wasn't you, or who ever I heard in the back, your voices were different."

Your eyes close, "Only you would be able to tell the difference in something like that."

I take a step forward, your eyes open. "Do you love me, Harry?"

You nod your head, I nod my head.

"I love you Harry,"

I take another step forward, "Will you open our veela bond, Harry?"

You shake your head no, "Why not Harry?" My voice is gentle, betraying none of the pain that I feel. The feeling of pain and desperateness, the loneliest feeling in the world, the feeling that I will never be complete; I wipe your hair away from your face, exposing where your scar should have been.

Your eyes are closed, tears running down your cheeks. "I don't want to feel how much you hate me,"

I walk the rest of the way to you, "Open your eyes, Harry."

You do as I say, "Does it look like I hate you?"

Your eyes search mine, after a minute or two you shake your head. "No," you whisper.

"What do you see?"

You don't answer my question, instead you say, "You shouldn't love me,"

"Why not?"

Your eyes close, "You deserve better than a coward, than me,"

You open your mouth to add something, but I take your chin in my hand, your eyes open in surprise.

"That is not true, if anything, you deserve better than me, Harry, you are perfect. Don't you ever forget that, ever. I will love you longer than I live, and I will always be trying to prove that I am worthy of your love."

Before you can reply to that I kiss you again, my tongue rubs against your lip, and you open it without hesitating. I wrap my arms in your hair, and you wrap yours in mine.

That's when we hear the door open, we pull apart; my eyes don't leave yours.

You turn to look at the door, and freeze, "Draco," you whisper.

I turn to look, it's Rosalie. I walk towards her, dropping to my knees in front of her.

"Rosalie," I whisper.

She nods her head, "Who are you?"

My lips tremble, "I'm Draco Malfoy."

You drop to your knees beside me, "Rosalie, this is your father."

Her eyes become confused, "You're my father, daddy."

You give her a shaky smile, "We're both your fathers, Rosie."

She turns to look at me. You continue explaining, "Draco is a magical being, and I am his mate."

She turns back to look at you, "What is a mate?"

You look at me briefly, "It's like a husband or wife."

She looks at me, "You have the same color hair as I do, father."

I feel my tears run down my face, "Yes, I do."

"Do you know my daddy is special?"

I look at you, and then back at Rosalie, "Yes, he is a very special person."

"He killed the evil man,"

"Yes, he did, he saved a whole lot of people when he did so,"

The bell rings, and the nanny, Miss Smith, comes running in, her cheeks red, and out of breath. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Larssen, she got away, and there was a crowd,"

She stops short when she sees me. I smile at her, standing. I extend my hand to her, "Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy, and you are Miss Smith, am I correct?"

Her eyes are wide, going between you and me. "Miss Smith," you say quietly. She snaps out of her thoughts, her hand grabs mine, "Yes, that is correct, I am Miss Smith, and I must say, I am surprised to see you here, now."

I smile, "Not as surprised as I, I bet."

She nods her head, you stand, "Miss Smith, you can take the rest of the day off I will take care of Rosalie."

She nods her head, and as she turns to leave, Rosalie speaks up, "Miss Smith, do you know this is my father?"

Miss Smith's eyes light up as she looks to you then back to Rosalie, a smile graces her face, "Yes, yes I do know," she turns back around, walks out the door, and disappears into the crowd of people on the street. As she leaves you both turn to look at me, at once I feel everything you feel, and I know that our veela bond has been opened once again. I smile, at the both of you, my family, and I realize that everything is as it should be, it's not perfect, but you are both here with me, and for the first time in three years I feel whole. My family is together, and I vow to myself, that no matter what happens from this point on, I'll never let any harm befall either of you ever again, or give you another reason to run away again.

We are a family.

We are strong.

We will love forever.

We will never fail each other.

We are a family.