Disclaimer: I do not own the character Draco Malfoy or this beautiful universe of Harry Potter: JKR does. I only take ownership of my original characters (and this plot line). All rights reserved, and no profit is being made from this.

Title: Family Ties (mini-series)

Summary: Draco Malfoy and Amelia Scarlett have been playing a game of cat and mouse since they were sixteen. Can Draco manage to keep the Gryffindor's affections or will the Wizarding World's opinion of him bare too much for the girl?

Rating: M

Word Count: 2737 words

Warning/s: Mentions of sex.

Beta: None as all mistakes are mine and I take responsibility for them.

Author's Note: BOOK TWO. RE-WRITING.- MaraudersAtHeart


Family Ties

Chapter One

Flowers scattered all around the floor, neatly in pots. The pots were a range of sizes in either a circle or a square pot. They were all a black shade to bring out the colour in the flowers to show that they were beautiful in all their unique ways. There were so many flowers in this particular shop that it left hardly much room for more than one person on the footpaths. They were designated areas for customers to use to walk around in search of the perfect flower.

Wizards were amiss in this muggle store. Everything looked foreign and complicated to them. They were somehow beautiful but still. They had no magical ability and no wonder about them but they still amazed muggles every day in a wonderful way. They still somehow brought people together for all occasions.

Muggles had found a way to have beauty and wonder without magic at all.

Draco Malfoy applauded them in his mind, thanking them for their simplicity. He was sure once he had found the perfect one that all this arduous work and confusion would surely pay off. He shuffled his feet awkwardly, fiddling with his fingers as a nervous habit. He turned to his side where his best friend of ten years stood. He shrugged his shoulders as if he had no clue what he was really looking for.

Blaise Zabini chuckled to himself, "Do you need some help, buddy?" He asked, feeling like something was weird about the world now. Lately, he had felt like he had been in an alternative universe. His best friend hadn't been acting himself recently and he knew exactly who to blame it all on: Amelia Scarlett, the sodding Gryffindor. She was the girl who had stolen the platinum blonde boy's heart when they had only been sixteen. There may have been a war brewing outside of the gates of Hogwarts, at that time, threatening to enter but somehow, they had found happiness amidst it all.

Amelia and Draco had a complicated history that somehow bloomed into a love that nobody could understand.

A small rare smile appeared on Draco's lips as a way to let the dark-skinned man know that he would always have a place inside this boy's heart as his brother. Only a few people had a place in his heart. He had never been the most trusting of kinds. The war had torn the world into two, tearing families apart and friends even further apart.

Draco had never been a bad guy, per say, but he had made some terrible decisions in his life. He had taken responsibility for it this past year and he was finally ready to move on from it all. Society had a different opinion, as they never seemed to want to forget that sometimes people don't always have a choice in life. He may have chosen the wrong side, but he knew that choosing the Light side would've caused much more mayhem than choosing the darkness. He did what he did for a reason and even though the reason doesn't outweigh or counteract all the deaths, if he had gone back he'd have still done everything the exact same way.

He'd have still fought for the dark in public but for the light in private.

Draco had obligations to his parents – more so to his mother – that he had to meet. Despite secretly sleeping with the enemy, he sure as hell acted as if he was the bad guy. It was easier to keep up pretences.

A frown made its way onto his lips as his thoughts raced through his mind. He shook his head, not letting that persuade his mood today. He was way too happy to let the past ruin the future he was about to make for himself.

Cloud nine was the name for an emotion the Muggles seem to describe as 'being insanely happy and in love'. Draco found this a fit way to describe his very emotions. They swirled inside of him like a bee in a hurry to get out of his stomach. He used to have a burning hatred for muggle sayings but as time passed, just as Amelia had, they had grown on him. Draco had changed overtime and it was for the better.

"Which ones are you planning on getting," Blaise's voice tore through all of Draco's thoughts, causing him to blink and then look down at the ground. Some more shuffling took place and a look at the back wall full of pretty flowers before Draco shrugged once more. "I'm not entirely sure," he murmured, feeling as stuck as a fly trying to exit through a closed window. They were unable to see the window and unable to leave no matter how hard they tried.

They were at a Muggle shop called 'Claudia's Florist' as Draco vaguely remembers. He was here in sort for the perfect flower to buy – with Muggle money – for Amelia. She may be a Pureblood, but her family were one of the few who lived in town and had muggle neighbours. They often had each other over for dinner on occasions. Magic wasn't always used. Amelia found that cooking was much more enjoyable when done by hand. Draco had never understood it until she had asked him to bake some cookies with her. At first, he found the muggle way time consuming and rather frustrating until he had found the fun and patience for it.

"I'm unsure which is her favourite, to be completely honest."

Draco thought back to their previous memories together when their relationship was more of a 'bang and bolt' time than a 'tie you down' type. If he could go back, he'd scoff at his ignorance and stupidity. He had the girl of his dreams at his fingertips and he had not treated her the way he should've. He was trying to make up for that now. He had been deathly afraid of commitment, especially at their tender age of sixteen, but somehow, he hadn't been seeing anyone but Scarlett. It was funny that he was afraid to tie himself down but somehow, he still hadn't got a single idea to see anybody else. He used excuses like 'I don't have time' and 'Pansy Parkinson was way too annoying to consider even sleeping with'.

He remembers their mind-blowing sex and he remembers all the insults they shared in the hallways between classes. They were hoping the madder they sounded around each other, nobody would know about the things they did behind closed doors. They were desperate to keep their little affair a secret. It would've cause too many problems and it would've disappointed his parents at the time. He hardly cares about their opinions anymore.

Truth was that in Draco's new flat that day, they both hadn't been ready to just leave yet. He hadn't wanted to see anybody but her that day. Plans hadn't gone exactly as Draco expected. She had knocked on the door and he had let her in. The second the door closed, her lips were attached to his. He was already drunk by the time she had arrived on his doorstep, but he remembered the events that unfolded after that kiss. He wasn't that drunk. He remembers the way her hands worked expertly at his shirt, undoing all the buttons one by one skilfully. He remembers her tongue exploring his mouth as if she was making up for all the lost time.

The only memory that was rather hazy for him is the trip to the bedroom. He remembers a little stumbling or even a lot, he wasn't quite sure. He remembers the grinding of her hips against his rather clearly. Crystal, to be exact. It was almost like the first time they had done it. It had been easily the best sex he'd had in over a week. Come to think of it, the only time he had good sex was when it was with her.

Draco shook his head, trying to steer his mind out of that memory as he looked over at the roses. He knew that yellow couldn't be right as he had a feeling it was for friendship and not love. Then again, those were the muggle meanings for everything. He couldn't possibly remember all the meanings for every flower he came across.

For the life of him, Draco was unable to remember the flower she had spoken about that day back in his flat in early 1998. The war was yet to commence, and they were to be on opposite sides of the war. He remembers waking up after dozing off after their incredible moment together. He had felt cold as he awoke, like she had shifted away from him. She was the only one he let snuggle him after sex, it confused him. He had turned his head, eyes locked on her. All that had ran through his head was: 'My god she is beautiful'. She was staring intently at the ceiling, not aware of his gaze on her.

If his parents could've seen him that day, he knew what they would say: "She's a blood traitor, it is beneath you to be seen fraternising with the enemy."

Draco knew what was expected of him and he never stepped a toe out of line – but he knew one secret wouldn't jeopardise all he's worked for. At least, that's what he thought the first time the slept together. The more frequent the arrangement become, he hardly noticed that things about him had begun changing. He hardly cared that they were supposed to be enemies and not lovers.

He had always found Amelia beautiful, even when they were eleven. He had never admitted it to himself. He also wouldn't dare do it that day if he hadn't been convinced he was 'half-asleep' and unable to really see anything in his dimly lit room. No matter whether they were in darkness or not, he could remember how she looked perfectly.

However, now, he'd easily admit that she was drop dead gorgeous to her face and to the public. He wasn't going to hide their relationship anymore even if she was a blood traitor. He didn't care for such names now. The war was over, and Potter had won. He had given Draco a second chance and he wasn't going to waste it.

After April last year, Draco had claimed Amelia Scarlett as his girl in front of the entire army for the Light.

But back before the war, Draco wasn't allowed to call her his as he had never officially asked. He had thought that it was impossible and so he'd stick to the label he had created: 'best lay'.

"A sickle for your thoughts," whispered the blonde boy, crushing the deafening silence between them. A simple question nobody ever answered as if they felt Draco was too young to really know what was going on. Amelia never treated him as if he was stupid or young. She always answered his questions and never in a sarcastic way.

"I'm just thinking about some things," the whisper came back with a sigh feeling like he had already tuned out. This was mostly the usual thing between them. She had never had a problem before. Sometimes she'd go silent as well and then get up and pack her things and leave once more.

But on this particular occasion, she continued even if it was merely to fill the silence in hopes not to leave just yet.

"This boy came to ask me out the other day and can you guess which flower he came bearing with? A red rose? I get that it was aimed to be sweet but how cliché could you really get, you know?"

The Gryffindor had paused for a moment before she continued.

"He didn't even have the decency to be original," she said, blowing the hair out of her face, shaking her head as she chuckled a little. The sound seemed to warm Draco's heart.

Draco laughed in return, "Come on, admit it: You liked it," he teased her, rolling over to nudge her a bit. He couldn't fight the strange feeling that erupted in the pit of his stomach. He could recognise it as jealousy, but he was excusing it for the fact muggles could roam free and he could not. They had a choice in life and they did not have deathly expectations hanging on their shoulders. He was certainly jealous of them for that but perhaps, it had been more than just that.

Amelia wasn't his and he wasn't allowed to feel like he had a claim over her or anything. People counted on him, after all and she would only get in the way of that. She would convince him that everybody had a choice in life, but he knew that he didn't.

If she involved herself, there would be terrible consequences for the both of them. He couldn't bare the thought if somehow because of his actions, she would lose out. He felt a sense of protectiveness over her. He had to protect her from the Dark Lord and his parents.

The responsibilities on his shoulders outweighed the feeling that she should've been his and that if he let her walk out that door today, he may never get another chance. He had claimed her as his every time they would bed and that just had to be enough for now.

The girl shrugged her shoulders, turning over towards him. Her brown eyes stared up at him before she giggled quietly, causing her chestnut brown hair to fall in front of her face.

"Is that jealousy I detect, Malfoy?"

'Deny it, make her feel silly,' a voice whispered inside his mind, but he couldn't do that. He may be able to lie to the world, especially about whatever they had, but he could never lie to her. She always saw right through him. "Alright, fine, maybe I am a little," he admitted, "It isn't that I believe he is competition – as nobody really is compared to me – but because he has the courage and freedom that I shall never have."

For the first time in Amelia Anne Scarlett's life, she was speechless. She was an utter chatterbox and always had something to say. She had never left a topic untouched. She hated silences and always filled them with words. Silences made her uneasy which is why she never let many silences fall upon her.

After what seemed like eternity, she finally broke their silence once more with a few whispered words.

"I hate cliché things but even I am not immune to finding them cute. But to find them cute, their aim mustn't be to be mushy and romantic but to be so much more than that. I like it when their aim is entirely different as if the intention was simply because it is cliché and they know I will love it regardless of that."

That is when it hit him.

She may have never noticed his ever-growing affection for her that saved both their lives in the beginning of the war, but he always remembered the things she said to him. She may not have found them very important at the time and just rambled them off as if they were knowledge he'd never keep in mind.

Draco remembered their silences as being comfortable and that if there was anybody he could reside in, it had been her.

His life had always resolved around those stolen moments with her. Those times he had snuck out of his dormitory and snuck into hers. He enjoyed the cliché of coming through the window at midnight, making sure to charm her roommates not to notice the intruder. She always giggled whenever he fell into her dorm room, hating the window entrance every time.

Draco also remembers the times they had shared funny stories of the day over pudding in the kitchen. Those times his heart had pounded so loudly in his ribcage whenever she would pass by, that he was sure he would have a heart attack. The times when he had to forcibly squish the way he had felt about the insufferable Gryffin-dork every time his name had passed her lips.

Almost like a bludger it had hit him.

"I prefer purple roses over red ones any day."