Guess who's back?

Hello, my wonderful, spectacular, patient readers. It's been a long time since I have posted and for that, I apologize. But, here it is; the beginning of the end. After several sequels to the Mimi's Black Rose saga, I can honestly say that it is drawing to a close. This is the last story to be written and I can honestly say it breaks my heart. I've been carrying this story on my laptop for some time now and it pains me that it is finally time to post it. However, unlike the other sequels, this one will be broken into chapters. It was much too long to post as a oneshot, and I felt it needed to be heard a little differently than the others.

And so, I introduce Draco's Garden Roses.

Enjoy!

Love, xxSammyxx

Chapter 1

It was the beeping that woke him.

The same bloody beeping that Draco Malfoy has had to live with for the last sodding year. A high wailing sound that was enough to drive all of London mad with its persistence. Forcing open his heavy eyelids, he turned his blurred vision towards the blasted machine hanging from his bedpost. He could barely make out the little flashing light in the middle of the screen. Medication time again.

Bloody hell.

Groaning with the effort his tired, old body was barely able to accomplish anymore, he slid his feet from the bed. When they made contact with the cold, wooden floor he shouted out in annoyed distaste. Why the bloody hell did the floors always have to be so cold all of the time? Tiptoeing around until he found his leather slippers, he slid them into place and brought himself to a standing position. His worn out knees protested by cracking under the pressure.

Draco hated getting old.

Slowly making his way to the ensuite off of his bedroom, he squinted against the bright sunlight streaming in through the window. He couldn't remember the last time sunlight was so sodding awful, but it definitely was now as it burned through his eyes. Finally, after what felt like years, he got his feet in the doorway of the bathroom. Luckily, the sink was just three feet away. Unfortunately, though, that three feet felt more like one hundred yards. Grasping the countertop with arthritis-riddled hands, he frowned at his reflection in the mirror. All of his life, he heard older wizards saying how much wiser and powerful they got as they got older. That greatness came with age.

They lied.

Now the ripe age of 68, Draco was more miserable then he ever was. Not only was his skin wrinkled and old, but his body didn't cooperate anymore. He couldn't climb stairs, couldn't apparate, and could barely get around. Even using the facilities was a challenge. Not to mention the fact that he has to take at least ten pills and six potions a day to stay healthy. In fact, there really wasn't much that he could do anymore.

"Bloody nuisance," he grumbled to himself, his voice as rough as gravel.

Forcing down his medication, Draco hollered out for his house elf. "Kricky!"

The little creature popped in, his face showing his eagerness to please. "Yes, Master Malfoy? How can Kricky be of help, Sir?"

Draco took a step away from the sink, only to have to grasp the counter again as he started losing his balance. "I need to take my shower, Kricky. I need you to get it ready for me like before."

"Oh, Kricky would be happy to do that for you, Master Malfoy. Kricky will always do this for you, Sir." The little runt of an elf set to work at getting all of his supplies together for his shower.

In an effort to not fall over and break something, Draco grudgingly sat on the stool that sat beside the shower door. As he waited for his shower to be ready, his thoughts traveled over the last fifty years. So much had happened in that time that he felt like he's been alive forever. And yet, at the same time, he felt as if there had been no time at all. It was funny how that happened as you got older. You learn to appreciate all of the things you have done in your life. Even the mistakes you made. Frowning at that thought, Draco found himself traveling back to a time when he had made the biggest mistake of his life.

22 years ago – London, England...

"I understand your frustration, Mr. Malfoy, and I'm sorry that it came to this. But, you lashing out at the board doesn't change our position in all of this. Going public is the best thing we can do for Hermione's Wish.The company has done so successfully that by not going public we would be destroying everything we built."

Draco felt as if flames were erupting from his ears as he stared at Alfred Thomas, his right hand man for the last ten years. He had known this conversation was coming for the last couple of weeks, but he hadn't expected Thomas to go behind his back and get the boards approval. Draco might be the chairman, but he was nothing without the other board members of his. Now, they wanted to be there to stick a knife straight into his back.

"Not what we built, Thomas. What I built. Me. Without your help. You haven't done a bloody thing for this company except use its success to line your pockets. What gives you the right to take it from me? Do you honestly think Hermione's Wish will survive without an active board behind it? If you do then you are a fool."

Thomas stood tall and firm, trying to show Draco that he was confident and unyielding. This would have been slightly impressive if he wasn't a 33 year old, stick-thin, wimp of a man that barely reach 5' 6" with wire glasses and a hawk nose. He looked the very part of a weasel. Draco should have seen right through him when he hired him as his assistant twelve years ago. Had he known then that he would end up stealing his company, he would have thrown him off a building.

Thomas adjusted his glasses, a cocky smirk on his face. "The company will survive just fine, Mr. Malfoy. You might have been the backbone from the beginning, however, you are not the power behind the wheel. The people are."

Merlin, even his voice sounded nasally to Draco's ears. "Stop trying to sound like the good guy here, Thomas. You don't care about the company. You care about the money selling the company will make for you."

"Yes, I won't deny that's true," Thomas pulled his wand out of his pocket, along with a rolled up piece of parchment. "And it would seem that the other members agree with me. See? They've all signed. You are no longer in charge, Draco. It's time you take your share of the profits and move on. Hermione's Wish will be in good hands."

Anger burned through Draco like a dagger pulled from a flame. How dare this pathetic excuse for a wizard take this away from him!? Draco helped build this company from the ground up! No one worked harder to make it as successful as it was! Pathetic weasel! Without thinking, Draco whipped out his wand and held it to the mans throat. The Cruciatus Curse was stuck in his throat, begging to be uttered. Oh, how he wanted to revert back to his youthful ways just to torture this weasel.

"I wouldn't do that, Draco," the bloody fool had the nerve to laugh. Laugh! "The minute you curse me, the story will be in every wizardry magazine and newspaper in the country. Your name you worked so hard to guild in gold will be tarnished. Imagine how Hermione's Wish will fair then. I can almost see it now... " He led off suggestively.

His statement managed to throw a bucket of cool water against his burning rage. His anger continued to burn, but sense was starting to come back to him. No. He couldn't do that. He couldn't risk the company, even if it wasn't his anymore. It was worth more then that. "I'm not going to curse you, Thomas. But, mark my words. I'll destroy you. One day everything you took for yourself – the money, the property, everything – will be gone. And I'll be there. You will know that it was me that took everything you loved. Just as you've done to me."

And with those words, he stormed from the office. It was gone. His job. The company. Everything he built was gone. Taken by a person who didn't deserve the air he breathed. Watching the elevator doors shut, Draco felt guilt chewing in his gut. The guilt that was created by losing the company Minerva McGonagall and Poppy Pomphrey supported until their deaths just a few years ago burned in his chest. The company that they had built in remembrance of his love, Hermione Granger, was gone forever. Hiring Alfred Thomas was the biggest mistake of his life.

Now he had to live with it.

"Sir, the shower is ready, Master Malfoy. Would you like Kricky to help you step in, sir?" The elf's voice broke through the haze the memory had brought with it.

Shaking his head, Draco tried to clear the anger that still burned him whenever he thought of Alfred Thomas. The weasel that took everything from him when he was 48. "I can get in myself, Kricky, but thank you anyway. You are excused."

The elf bowed low before disappearing with a pop.

Draco peeled his clothes off as he headed towards the shower. The warm water felt good on his skin as he stepped beneath the spray. It would have made him feel better, had he not had to grasp a railing in the shower to maintain his balance. Now that just made him all the more annoyed. Lathering up with soap, Draco's thoughts traveled back to Alfred Thomas. For years after Hermione's Wish was taken over publicly, Draco tried to find every way possible to get it back. Everything from buy-outs, to rallies. Nothing ever worked. Until about fourteen years ago, when he managed to hit Thomas where it hurt.

Thomas had apparently been embezzling money from Hermione's Wish for years. It took him a long time, but Draco finally managed to get the proof he needed to get everything taken away from the wizard and have him put into Auror custody. The fallout from this caused the public to seriously question everything that had happened with the takeover. So, Draco had managed to purchase most of the shares for his company. Though, he was no longer in charge or chairman, he still had an active role in the company.

At least he did, he thought to himself with disdain. He didn't have control of much of anything anymore. Groaning slightly, Draco decided to finish up his shower and get ready to face yet another day of boredom. How had his life come to this?

"Dad? How are you feeling today?"

Draco turned from his copy of the Daily Prophet when he heard the voice he knew so well. "Hello, Scorpius. What brings you here, lad?"

Scorpius frowned slightly. "I told you I was coming, Dad. Remember? Last week when I flooed?"

Draco wrinkled his forehead as he tried to place that particular conversation. He couldn't recall it, so he just waved it away. "Ah, who cares anyway. The point is you're here, son. Tell me, how is your lovely Lilly doing?"

His son's answering smile seemed to take over his face. "She's marvelous. She can't seem to stop talking about Jean's due date."

Draco chuckled at that. Scorpius had married Harry and Ginny Potter's daughter, Lilly, right after she finished her schooling at Hogwarts. Both Harry and Draco had been uneasy about the news when they had first heard; what with Lilly being seventeen and Scorpius going on twenty. Ginny, though, had been ecstatic about the whole situation. Not to Draco's surprise. Red always wanted her loved ones happy and Draco and his son were amongst them.

"I am a little surprised she's so excited about it. She wasn't overly excited at first at the prospect of being a grandma." Draco said as he remembered the altercation.

Scorpius laughed. "Yes, I remember it well. It didn't take long, really, for her to get used to the idea. What with the twins being twenty years old now, it was bound to happen eventually. Jean just happened to be the first one to get married and have a baby."

The twins, Jean and Francesca (AKA: Frankie), were born two years after Lilly and Scorpius got married. And, much like their great-uncles Fred and George were as children, they were trouble makers. It wasn't until they both reached sixteen that they calmed a bit. Now, at twenty years old, they were making a run in the joke shop business. Since George and Angelina never had any kids of their own, they had left their beloved WWW franchise to Ginny's granddaughters, Jean and Frankie. Since they were merely ten years old when George passed away, they didn't get the chance to know him as well as they should have. But, now they both run the franchise with pride. They even have a statue of the infamous Weasley twins in the entrance of the original store – the one that is now used as a headquarters for the multinational business.

Just last year Jean, the more business oriented of the two, married Neville and Luna Longbottom's grandson, Frank Longbottom III. Now they were expecting a baby in three months. "Yes, yes, you're right. I can't seem to get used to the idea of being a great-grandfather, though. You all are going to make me sound like an old man."

Scorpius poured himself some coffee from the carafe. Smirking, he said, "Oh, please, Dad. You couldn't come off as old even if you tried. You might be 68, but you look great. Not to mention you can still delegate the company with a snap of your fingers."

Draco grunted at that. He definitely looked all of his 68 years, his son was just trying to make him feel better. "I couldn't delegate squat. You are doing just fine on your own. You managed to get promoted from a simple potion maker to acting CFO. Hermione's Wish is doing even better now then it did when I was chairman."

Scorpius shook his head. "No, Dad. It's not. It's just as good as it was when you were chairman. But, you had the passion that would have made it a million times better had that pathetic excuse for a man hadn't taken it from you."

Yes, Draco could remember that time well. "Let's not discuss that, son. It's ancient history and the company is back where it belongs."

"That it is. And I couldn't be prouder of being involved with something as wonderful as Hermione's Wish," Scorpius frowned down at the cup he was holding. "It's just too bad that Mom never felt the same way."

That simple statement made Draco's heart break. He should have known that his son would never fully get over what happened between him and his mother. Having gotten married after only seeing each other a month, his relationship with his son's mother was a disaster from the beginning. He had been lonely when he became involved with her and didn't even consider the repercussions of his actions. Though, he would never call his son a repercussion. Scorpius was the best thing that had ever happened to him, despite who his mother was.

"Son," Draco wasn't really sure what to say. "About your mother and I... that was never your fault."

Scorpius nodded. "I know, Dad. I understand the whole situation. Mom explained it all to me. I suspect it was in an effort to make me hate you after the divorce. She was disappointed, though, since it only made me understand you so much better." He put his hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'm happy you two got divorced, Dad. She wasn't good for you and you weren't happy with her."

No, he hadn't been, Draco thought to himself. Though, he tried really hard never to let him son see that side of him. "Your mother told you everything?"

"Yes, Dad." Scorpius frowned a little. Even though he was a successful business man pushing 43, he still seemed to revert back to his eight year old self whenever they talked about his mom. "She did."

44 years ago, Malfoy Manor...

"What do you mean you're pregnant?" Draco asked, his voice full of anger at the woman who stood before him.

Astoria Greengrass, a long time friend of the family, was tall, leggy, and gorgeous beyond compare. At 23 she had everything a model could yearn for. Draco couldn't take his eyes off of her when he saw her for the first time in years just a month ago. They a quick, intense affair over the span of a week before Draco had called the whole thing off. And yet, there she was, standing in his study in six-inch heels and a dress short enough to be called a shirt. She had shown up out of nowhere and dropped news on his shoulders that was enough to make his head explode.

She shrugged, her face full of annoyance. "What do you think I mean? I'm pregnant, with a child, have a bun in the oven. How else can I put it?"

Draco's mind couldn't seem to grasp that concept. Pregnant? "Is the child mine?"

Astoria's mouth dropped open. Her expression was so appalled that he almost regretted his question. "Excuse me?! What do you mean, 'is it yours'? Of course it's yours, you blithering idiot!" She turned away and threw her handbag onto the chair by the fireplace. "I'm not sure what you've heard, but I don't run around sleeping with every man I meet. I have class you know!"

Draco seriously doubted that. "What am I supposed to think? I haven't seen you in weeks and then you show up out of nowhere to tell me you're pregnant. Forgive me for being a little skeptical."

She snorted. "Oh, please. You are the one who romanced me and got me in the sack after one dinner. Then we spend every day together for a week, only for me to wake up and see you and your things gone. I never heard from you again."

"I left a note, Astoria." That sounded lame, even to him.

"A note? A note that merely said that it was over? You couldn't even have the decency to tell me yourself. And now here I am, my career just finally taking off and I'm having a baby. Do you know what the demands are for a pregnant model? Practically nonexistent."

He figured she'd put her career above every other potential problems a baby brought. He, too, had a career that meant a lot to him. What did that mean to her? Absolutely nothing. "Fine. What do you want me to do about it?"

She turned to him, her face incredulous. "Are you serious? I don't know! I don't know what the hell I'm going to do! I don't know what the hell I want you to do! I don't know anything! I just found out and came here. That's all I've worked out so far."

Draco watched as her face fell. He could see that, despite her self-centered, spoiled demeanor, she was scared. She didn't know what to do with a baby any more then he did. They had both made the mistake that led here and he was trying to make her out as the one at fault. If anything, it was just as much his fault as hers. He had been lonely and wanted a companionship. And after years of being alone, she seemed to be the answer. She wasn't looking for a relationship, just a good time. It seemed to work for a while. Until her personality burned him out, anyway.

Sighing, he weighed his options. He was only 24 and really didn't want to be a father right now. But, that didn't change the fact that he was going to be whether he wanted to or not. "Astoria?"

She looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears and her mouth set in an angry, firm line. "What?"

He walked across the room and stood before her. He couldn't believe what he was about to do. All of his life he never saw himself with anyone. If anything he saw himself alone. Hermione had been the only person he was ever interested in having a life with. And she was gone forever. After losing her, he never really wanted anyone else in his life. Now, with Astoria storming into his home, maybe he could somehow find a way to fit her in permanently.

"Will you marry me?" His voice was pained. He didn't really want to marry her, but he needed to do right by her. Draco Malfoy had honor. He would abide by it.

Her face turned to shock. "Why?"

He sighed. "I know we barely know each other. Bloody hell, we barely like each other. But, we are having a baby together. And our baby deserves two parents. I'm willing to have you in my life and I promise to treat you with respect. I want to do right by you."

Astoria searched his expression. She didn't seem to know how to respond. There was a definite war going on behind her eyes. She didn't need his fortune, she was rich enough on her own. She didn't need his name, for Greengrass held enough of it's own weight. Would she agree, or would she concede to doing this all herself?

Finally, she answered. "Yes. I will."

Draco's memory of that event was tinged in shame. He had thought he was being noble back then. In reality, he was molding the situation to his liking. Astoria was always fiercely independent and never knew how to be anyone's wife. During the nine years they were married she took many lovers and barely spent more than two nights a week with her own husband. Finally, after many fights and angry words, Draco had divorce papers forged and they went their separate ways. Scorpius, only eight years old at the time of their divorce, had chosen to live with Draco. He couldn't blame him, really. Astoria was never much of a mother.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Scorpius," Draco said with sadness. "I never wanted to hurt you in any way. Despite the circumstances in which you were conceived, I always wanted you. You're my son no matter what."

Searching his father's eyes, Scorpius smiled. "I know, Dad. I know. I always have. That's why we've always been so close. I was never a burden to you like I was for Mom." He finished his coffee. "Anyway. I better go. Lilly and I are going to visit her parents. Ginny's having a hard time dealing with all of the mediwitches living in their house."

Draco wasn't surprised. Ever since Harry was forced into a wheelchair three years ago, Ginny had to hire mediwitches to help monitor his health and extra house elves to help keep up the house. Potter was certainly having a harder time with getting old then he was. What with all three of his kids stopping by to check on him at all hours of the day, Harry was always cranky. Draco felt bad for Red that she had to live with him.

"Very well. Tell Red and Potter that I send my regards," then Draco sighed. "And my sympathies about Ron."

Scorpius bent down to give his father a hug. "I will, Dad. You rest. I'll be by tomorrow to see you again."

Draco waved him away and returned to his lunch. He still felt sadness whenever he thought about the unexpected loss that Harry, Ginny, and the remaining Weasley family had to experience. Ronald Weasley passed away of a heart attack just a month ago. And though he and Ron were never able to get along, he still felt saddened at the thought. They were all at the age where death was certain and soon. Losing one meant you would soon lose another.

"Master Malfoy, sir? It's nice and sunny outside, sir, if you'd like to go for a walk in the gardens, Sir." Kricky's voice was uncertain as he realized he interrupted Draco's thoughts.

Pushing the sorrow away, Draco stood. "Yes, Kricky, I would like that."

Yes. He would like that very much.

The trip to the gardens was a short one. For after you stepped off of the back deck you were basically standing in it. It was large and vast; every inch the picture of beauty. Even at his age Draco could still appreciate it. Granted, most people thought it was a bit peculiar that a man of Draco's esteem would have such an area. He did, though, and it always managed to make him smile. From the time of its conception Draco found walking through the gardens a calming and serene experience. It put him in a place of peace that he could never seem to accomplish in his every day life. And it wasn't the sunlight on his skin or the breeze across his body that made him feel that way. No, it was the flowers themselves.

"Here you are, Master Malfoy. If you need anything else, Kricky will come, Sir." Kricky made sure he made it to the garden chairs before popping out.

Walking as sturdily as he could on his wobbly legs, Draco carefully made his way down the stone path that ran through the garden. He shuffled his feet across the smooth stone, memorizing ever curve and texture. He'd done this numerous time before while walking this same path. It was not even a conscious action anymore. It was purely instinctual. It wasn't until Draco started to trip over his own two feet that he stopped focusing on the stones and focused more on his feet themselves.

"Damn, bloody slippers. They're too sodding big, is what they are. Too sodding big-" Draco kept mumbling to himself grudgingly.

Finally managing to make it to the center of the garden, he fell backwards into the lounger he has come to know so well. Knowing his old body wasn't going to find a comfortable position any time soon, he trained his attention to the lands around him. As far as the eye could see, there were dozens of flowers and wizardry plants filling the earth. Everything from Tantacular plants to Mandrake roots were regularly available in his garden. However, the best part in all of the garden was the bushes. Endless rows of rose bushes of every color imaginable.

Breathing in the sweet aroma the breeze brought with it, Draco closed his eyes. So many memories surrounded this garden. Memories of his son picking roses for Lilly when they first started dating. Of Ginny Potter making him plant some daisies, tulips, and babies breath in an effort to 'bring more diversity' to his life. Even a not-so-great memory of Ron trying to curse him for making Romilda cry over a misunderstanding. Draco chuckled to himself as he remembered Ginny desperately trying to keep her brother from maiming him. Good times, indeed.

Reliving the memories was both bitter and sweet. While it was good to have memories of the life they lived, it also meant that their lives were coming closer and closer to a close. And Draco was definitely feeling close to that time. Sighing to himself, he rubbed his hand through his thick gray hair. So much had changed over the years. He could still see himself in the mirror when he was a striking man of 36, panicking over the first gray hair on his head. Now there was no sign of his natural platinum blonde. He had an old man's hair now. And an old man's body.

Every day that passed made him feel so much weaker, frailer. He was sick. Not just with age, but in health. None of the mediwitches and healers that he'd been to had been able to help him. Not even a potion by Hermione's Wish could fix what was ailing him. His body was just wearing out. So much was wrong with his body and his bad heart was struggling to keep up.

He honestly didn't know how much longer he was going to last.

With a troubled soul, Draco tried to lose himself in his memories like he had done so many times before. The one standing out in his mind the most was from the day he had decided to create this garden. The day that he realized he needed something more...

35 years ago, Malfoy Manor...

The land was barren and dark. The stereotypical acreage of the Malfoy Manor for the last few centuries. All of his life, Draco never really paid much attention to the land surrounding the manor. Now, however, he couldn't seem to stop staring at it with scrutiny. The grass was green and bland with no sense of creativity. With the woods off in the distance, it looked even more foreboding. No, Draco couldn't stand this. He needed to do something back here. Something had to change.

"Dad, can I come out here with you?"

The small voice pulled Draco from his thoughts. Turning back towards the house, he saw his eight-year-old son Scorpius walking towards him wearily. Sighing, Draco tried to smile. The poor boy had been so worried about angering him since he and Astoria split a few weeks ago. It seems all of the arguing the two of them did had made his son frightened of his father. Something that Draco never wanted to happen. "Of course you can, Scorpius. I always love your company."

Scorpius leaned against his side tentatively. "I didn't want to bother you if you were busy. But, you looked lonely."

The smile on Draco's face was real as he put his arm around his son's shoulders. "I'm never lonely when I have you, Scorpius."

He could feel Scorpius nod against his side. "I know that, Dad. That's why I'm here," he shrugged slightly. "And Aunt Ginny keeps chasing Lilly around the house. I don't understand Lilly. Why does she always have to run around?"

Draco chuckled at that. Ginny had come over for lunch in an effort to cheer him up about the divorce. And, though she would deny it, Ginny was secretly happy the marriage didn't work out. She never liked Astoria in the first place. "She's just trying to play, Scorpius. She has a lot of energy."

Scorpius nodded. "But not as much as Albus does. I'm happy Aunt Ginny didn't bring him. He screams a lot, too."

Oh, that he did. Ginny and Harry's children were all an interesting bunch. James, the oldest, was a troublemaker. One couldn't leave him alone for five minutes without something getting broken. Albus, the middle child and same age as Scorpius, was the screamer. He seems to think that throwing a screaming fit would get him what he wanted. Foolish considering the fact that it hasn't worked yet. And then there was Lilly, only five, and she was a runner. Always a ball full of energy, she made it her mission to run through every inch of the manor when she was over.

Scorpius always seemed forlorn when the three came by. He couldn't seem to figure out what to do with them. He'd much rather be reading or playing quidditch instead of playing with other kids. A fact that always worried Astoria, but not Draco. For he was the same way at his age... among other things.

"Yes, well at least it's just Lilly today. You like her don't you?"

"Not really," Scorpius said dramatically. "Come on, Dad. She's a girl."

And Scorpius didn't like girls. At least not yet and Draco wanted to keep him that way for a while longer. But, before he could say that, Ginny hollered from behind them. "What are you two strapping men doing out here?"

Turning to look at her, Draco smiled at her messed up hair and rugged clothes. Chasing Lilly around certainly did a number on her. She still looked wonderful, though. "We are just enjoying the scenery."

Stepping up beside them, Ginny glanced around. "What scenery? There doesn't really seem to be any." She rubbed her hand against Scorpius' head, "Lilly's having some snacks in the dining room. Why don't you go keep her company?"

Scorpius' answering sigh was pained. "OK. But I'm not sure how much longer I can stand her, Aunt Ginny. She's crazy, she is. A complete nutter. It's scary to think what she'll be like when she's older."

Watching his son walk away mumbling to himself, Draco laughed. Lilly was a little hyper, but she was a good kid. And judging by the fact that she looks just like her mother she was going to be a knockout when grows up. Scorpius just might change his mind about her then.

Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Wouldn't it be hilarious if he started chasing her around in the future?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, funny. I can certainly see it happening though."

"Me too." She laughed before looking around again. "This yard is certainly ghastly, Draco. You should do something with it."

"Like what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. A quidditch pitch maybe? All I know is that there are acres of land back here and absolutely nothing in it. It's a complete waste of space."

"I can agree with you there. The Malfoy family was always more interested in the acreage and not the landscaping." He could still remember Lucius going on and on about all of the land his fore fathers bought and how it was needed to show their superiority.

"Well, that's all fine and dandy. But, you aren't the same Malfoy as they were and neither is Scorpius. You should change the tradition and make something out of it." Patting his arm, she turned back to the house. "I'm going to go save Scorpius from Lilly. We need to be getting home. Harry should be back tonight and I want to cook him a nice dinner."

And Ginny was bursting with excitement at being reunited with her husband again after all of these weeks, Draco thought. Harry had been gone on assignment and hadn't been able to owl much. In an effort to keep herself occupied and calm, Ginny had all but moved into the manor with him. Though she claimed it was for his and Scorpius' benefit and not her own. She wasn't fooling anybody. Herself included.

Shaking his head, Draco watched her go before turning back to the burden before him. What could he do with so much land? A quidditch pitch was tempting, but they already had one not far from here. So, what could go here that could brighten the place up a bit? He had no idea. He wasn't really the type to think of such things.

Suddenly, a light breeze blew in from the south and filled his nose with a sweet aroma. Sniffing lightly, Draco recognized the smell, but he couldn't place it. It was sweet, but not overpowering. When he started to lose it, he started wandering in an effort to find it again. It wasn't until he was near the woods that he caught it again. Breathing in, he racked his mind trying to remember. Until finally, a painful memory surface. One he hadn't really thought of in almost sixteen years.

Hermione's funeral. And the bouquet of roses.

Roses. That was the scent. An idea formed in his head as he relived that bitter memory. Brighten up the land, he thought. Maybe he would turn it into a garden. Sure, he knew absolutely nothing about gardening and he certainly wasn't the type to go digging in the dirt. That immediately presented a problem. Though, he could always pay someone to do that for him.

Yes, a garden. That's what he would do. One that had all kinds of plants in it. And roses; yes, definitely roses. Ones of every kind and color. But, in the middle of the garden the roses had to be the right ones. Hermione's favorite kind...

Yes. This would work.

And it had. After a year of professional landscapers and gardeners, not to mention lots of wizardry to maintain the upkeep, Draco's garden was finished and it had looked amazing. Even after all of these years it looked great. Just like it had the day it was completed. Now, as a tired old man with not much left in his life, this garden meant the world to him. Not only did it bring him peace, but whenever he looked at the roses it allowed him to remember the girl he fell in love with all those years ago.

"Black Magic, Hermione. Just like the one you gave me." Draco stared into the Black Magic roses in the center of the garden. They were his most treasured.

Whenever he would try and think of Hermione his memories were blurred and scarce. He couldn't remember much about her. He could no longer remember what she looked like unless he was looking at photographs. The ones that he had collected over the years from Ginny and others. So many years since he'd seen her face for real. Fifty-one years, to be exact. How could it be, after all of that time, that he still felt that pure, innocent love for her? The love that saved his soul.

And she had saved his soul. Everything that she was in her last year of life had reached out and awakened something in him that he never thought existed. She had taught him to love, and he would be eternally grateful for that. For it had been a true love. One that would have conquered all had it been given a chance to grow; or given a chance at all. But, no. Hermione was taken from him before they could even make a go of it. They never got their chance. And in his entire life, Draco never found a love like it. No matter how hard he looked, it never appeared.

He had watched those he cared about find that love. Red and Harry. Ron and Romilda. Even Scorpius and Lilly. All of them lived with that love every day of their lives while Draco looked on with envy. He and Hermione should have had that. They missed so much.

"Sir, are you ready to go in, Master Malfoy? It looks like rain is coming in, Sir." Kricky popped in at his side, startling him. Shaking his head to clear it, he felt the moisture on his cheeks. Reaching up thinking they were raindrops, he was disturbed to note that they were tears.

Wiping his eyes with his hands, he said rather grumpily, "Bloody hell, don't startle me like that! You could give an old man a heart attack!"

Kricky looked quite ashamed, began to apologize vehemently. "I'm sorry, Master Sir. Kricky apologizes for being troublesome, Sir. Kricky will go punish himself, Sir, if Master Malfoy wishes it."

Glaring at the stuttering elf, Draco pushed himself to stand. "No, don't do that, you silly elf. Just help me get into the house. I need some rest. I've tired myself out here."

Kricky immediately rushed forward. "Oh yes, Sir. Kricky will certainly help you, Master. You must have your rest before dinner, Sir. Yes, yes, you must."

And as they were headed back to the manor, Draco had the funniest feeling run up his spine. A tingling sensation that sent the hairs on his skin standing straight up. He didn't glance back over his shoulder right away, but something was definitely telling him to. He had the strangest notion that someone was watching him. A silly thought since no one could possibly get passed the protective barrier of the manor without permission. However, that didn't stop the nagging feeling that told him to turn around. So, finally giving in, he looked over his shoulder. Then he blinked repeatedly in disbelief.

A figure. A misty apparition was standing in the middle of the garden. Right next to the Black Magic roses. The silhouette was impossible to make out for the mist was evaporating as he stared, but someone was definitely there. And as he watched, the figure reached a hand in his direction. As if beckoning him to come to it. And Draco had the dire urge to-

"Master Malfoy, are you alright, Sir?" Kricky asked, worried that Draco had stopped in his tracks abruptly.

Draco took his eyes from the blurred figure long enough to glance at Kricky. Less then a second later he looked back and it was no longer there. His roses stood where they always did and there was no misty figure standing over them with their hand held out. Rubbing his eyes roughly, Draco looked back again and saw nothing.

"Master Malfoy, Sir?" Kricky's had a nervous edge to it as he watched Draco stare dumbfounded.

Had he imagined the whole thing? Probably. Putting his hand over his face, Draco turned back towards the house and started walking again without answering. He couldn't. He was still trying to decide if what he saw was real or not. Considering how he's been feeling lately it was probably wasn't. Probably just a trick of light caused by the sun peeking between the clouds or something.

Kricky ran to catch up. "Are you alright, Master Malfoy?"

"I'm fine, Kricky." Draco's voice was weary. "I'm just fine."

He couldn't decide if he was trying to convince Kricky of that or himself.

She watched Draco turn back to the house, her heart heavy with sadness. How she ached to reach out and touch him like she had so many years ago. But, it was obviously not to be...

For it was not time yet.

But, soon.

He had seen her, if only for a moment. She had seen the look of pure wonder in his eyes as he searched for her presence. She could feel that he felt her and heard her soul calling out to his.

At first she had been afraid. For he had not seen her in the years she's been with him. Often, she wondered what it would be like for him to see her again. Would she feel happiness? Joy? Or maybe sorrow? The only way he could see her was if he was like her.

Or about to be.

Her heart's sadness amplified as the thought crossed her mind. Soon. If he saw her for even a moment then it was certainly going to be soon. They would be together again. So many years she had looked after him, guiding him.

Waiting for him.

Holding her hands over her heart with grief, she allowed the peace and serenity of her world bring her home again. 'Soon, my love. Soon.'