"Daddy, Daddy! It's snowing!" The little girl bounced up on to the hunter green couch, barely seeing over the high back to the windows. It was in fact snowing, a soft drift of white that contrasted the darkness of the stormy sky. She gripped the dark burgundy window hangings, pulling herself up to get a better view. Across the drawing room, dark but for the fire in the fireplace, Draco Malfoy stood with his arms crossed, observing the girl as she watched the snow in amazement.
"Allie, I think I told you to brush your teeth." She looked sheepishly at him and furrowed her eyebrows.
"But daddy!"
"But nothing, miss. You will brush your teeth, because it is bedtime." She heaved a heavy sigh, clambering down of the couch and marching past him with her arms crossed. Her long blond hair, nothing more than a mass of tangled curls, bounced with every furious step. "And I believe I told you to keep your hair tied back, little lady." He watched her as she stormed into the bathroom, and nearly laughed when she blew a raspberry at him when she thought he wasn't looking.
"Daddy, can we build a snowman tomorrow?" Draco sat down on the bed after he had tucked in the child. She grinned at him, hoping to be persuasive and he gave her a soft smile.
"Of course, dear. Now, get some sleep. You don't want Jack Frost to know you're awake!" Her eyes grew wide in fear, but he bent over and tickled her until she was laughing too hard to give it another thought. "Good night, Allie."
As he was reaching over to turn off the light and exit the room, Allie called out to him. "Daddy, did Mummy tuck you in and keep you safe from Jack Frost?" Draco paused for an instant, not looking back at his little girl.
"Yes, darling. Mummy keeps me safe." He turned off the light and shut the door carefully behind him.
The next day dawned bright and cheery, with hope that Draco could not honestly say he found within himself. He had awoken to his little girl bouncing on his bed, her blond hair bouncing and her deep brown eyes a constant reminder of the reason why there was a pain in his chest. He immediately ordered her to tie back her hair and go downstairs for breakfast. She sobered quickly, with a sad look on her face, and slumped down the stairs with her head hung.
The pain only sharpened.
He stumbled down the stairs in his robe, the dark green pajama pants he wore puddling around his feet. In the kitchen, he prepared himself to make French toast, Allie's favorite breakfast ever since they had ventured across the pond one summer and into the renowned hospitality of the southern United States. Lost in his musings, he barely noticed when his little girl came in the room.
"Daddy?" He jumped, putting one hand to his chest and the other instinctively to his pocket. His empty pocket. He looked over at Allie and noticed that she was obviously alarmed at his shock. He brushed her hair out of her face, pulling her closer to him so that he could pull it back.
"What is it, dear?" She turned around and he saw that there were tears in her eyes. Pulling her into a hug, he asked again, "What is it? I'm sure it's not that bad, dear."
"I-I made you apple cider to say sorry for waking you up." She paused to sniffle and wipe at her eyes. "But I spilled it on the dining room table."
"Oh, is that all? It's alright. Take these paper towels and clean it up, and I'll be in in just a second." She gave him a watery smile, before place a tight hug around his legs.
"Thank you, Daddy."
When she was out of sight, he leaned over to clutch at the pain in his chest. The empty pocket of his robe served only as a reminder of what he had had to do, and what remained still to be done.
Allie ran around, gleefully throwing snow before setting heartily to the task of creating a snowman. After helping her to roll out the cylinders of snow, he let her run inside and out of their small manor, dressing the snowman as she saw fit. He placed himself on a sturdy snowdrift, resolving to stare at the sun and forget about his troubles. It was only when the pitter patter of small footsteps stopped that he came to and turned to check on Allie.
She had sat down in the snow to look at the snowman, a hulking figure probably taller than she was. Apparently, she had gone into his closet, because there were shoes, her shoes, sitting before it. She had used nice little brown buttons for the eyes, a fake mask nose from Halloween, a discarded bottle of play lipstick to make a smile. The most charming, and distressing, thing, though, was the numerous discarded bobbins she had rescued from the sewing room they had found locked when they first moved into the manor. She had strung them with dental floss and created a realistic interpretation of her hair, the long lasting reminder of things that had been lost to him. She looked over at him, an oddly complacent smile on her face, and then abruptly fell backwards to make a snow angel. Her laughter rang through the air and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, he realized that the sun had nearly completed its setting and they had spent the whole day in the snow, with no lunch, no nap, and no interruptions.
He stood, brushing the snow off of his parka. Picking Allie up and taking her inside, he gave one final glance to the snow-woman standing resolutely in the yard.
He heaved a heavy sigh and continued into the house while Allie regaled him with stories of snowmen and snow-women from faraway lands.
He was making oatmeal the next morning, his green fuzzy slippers pushing dust around the kitchen floor, when Allie came to him crying for the second day in a row. He lifted her up into his arms and tried to figure out what was wrong, but she just sobbed and pointed towards the front door. Taking the bait, he set her down to put on his jacket, and allowed her to lead him by the hand to the site of her snow-woman.
The cold winter night had produced an ice storm, and the snow-woman was no more. Her lips were smeared, her nose blown off in a blustery wind, and the dental floss curls were knotted into an unrecognizable tangle that flapped soundly in the wind as the head tilted precariously on it's base.
"Allie," he said, kneeling and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Darling, it's just a snowman. We'll build another."
"No, daddy! It's not just a snowman!"
"Doll, it-"
"Daddy, Jack Frost came in the night and took mummy away from me just like he took her away from you!" She sobbed into his coat and he hugged her close, stunned at her outburst. When she had calmed down, she pulled a small portrait from the pocket of her bright pink parka and showed it to him. "I thought that if I showed mummy that I wanted her to come home, she would! But Jack Frost broke her face, daddy, and tangled up her hair." Little tears still streamed down her cheeks, and Draco's pain tightened and twisted into something worse. He picked her up and started towards the house.
"Darling, how about we go into London? How would you like that?"
"Daddy, wait-"
"Or we could take a train to Avignon and see your grandparents for Christmas, would you like that?"
"No, Daddy! Daddy, look!" Draco stopped, turning to see where the girl was pointing over his shoulder.
At the top of a snow crested hill stood the curly-haired woman he had known once and Allie had tried to recreate. Allie struggled in his arms, trying to get down, but he held steadfast to her. Too many years had passed, what if...
Allie finally broke free and ran faster than Draco had known her stumpy little legs could carry her. The woman, who's brown eyes had clouded with tears, rushed forward and picked Allie up to spin her around.
The pain, wound up like a string bass in his chest, loosened for the first time in seven years. Allie broke free of the woman and ran back him to him, grabbing his hands and trying to drag him behind her.
"See, daddy? I told you! I knew that if I showed mummy we wanted her to come home, that she would."
The sunlight bounced off the snow covered hilltops as she approached him. Allie backed away, instinctively knowing that her parents were sharing a moment.
"Draco... I..." Her brown eyes filled with tears and pain, and Draco heaved a deep sigh.
"Hermione," he breathed, pulling her hard against him. Her chestnut hair smelled of roses and parchment, and Draco resolved never to let her go again. "Is it over?" he asked, pulling away only far enough to see her face. She nodded, pulling a broken wand and a weatherworn Daily Prophet from her pocket.
"It's finally over. He's gone." She embraced him again, sobbing into his shoulders, before Allie ran over and hugged their legs.
"Mummy! Mummy! Let's make pancakes! Daddy said you love pancakes!" She smiled, picked up Allie and the three of them walked silently to the little manor house.
The snow-woman was gone the next morning, when they left to take a train to Avignon.
Allie smiled as the wind whipped through her hair as they walked to town to ride into the city. She waved, but her mother told her Jack Frost had already said goodbye. Her father smiled down at her and pulled her mother close and said nothing.
The pain was gone.