Hello, all! This story was formerly left abandoned under the title 'Blame it on the Winter Winds' but I'm currently bound and determined to finish it - promise this time. As always, everything is owned by J.K. Rowling.

CHAPTER ONE

He couldn't believe it had been a whole ten years since the final battle at Hogwarts; since the defeat of the darkest wizard the world had ever (and probably would ever) see. Draco slightly rotated in his seat to see the faces of the witches and wizards seated behind him, waiting for the ceremony to commence before he finally turned his grey eyes back to the outer walls of Hogwarts. It looked just as he had always remembered it, save for minor renovations that had to be made upon rebuilding the school after having it practically torn apart during the battle.

The Scottish, May air carried a cool breeze through the rolling countryside, but the sun bearing down upon his black cloak was nothing but a reminder that windy spring was soon to be replaced with sweltering summer. Who the hell decided to have the ceremony outdoors? He let out a loud sigh, causing a couple just beside him to turn their heads and stare at him, rather disapprovingly. Whether they recognized him as a Malfoy or not, he didn't bother himself with glaring back. Truthfully, he just wanted to get this shindig over with, only it seemed that one of the guest speakers were running late. He could only assume it was bloody Potter or one of his buffoons.

Merlin only knew how they liked to make an entrance...

Fighting yet another disgruntled sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, stopping the action only after realizing that he had a rather unsettling amount of gel holding his hair in place for the evening. Well, shit. He fisted the hand he held midair, dropping it back onto his lap and looking around the crowd once more. Where the hell was Astoria?

He didn't have to wonder for too long, however. Draco's gaze eventually wandered over to where Adrian Flint stood beside his wife, his girlfriend standing out amongst the group. Her pale skin still seemed rather unfazed by the bright afternoon sun, and her blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail atop her head, though her long locks cascaded down her back in waves. The green dress she had chose for the evening screamed nothing but high-class, and if it wasn't for the fact that Draco couldn't stand the bint, he would actually find her beauty to be quite daunting.

Only he couldn't really stand her, and her insides were anything but beautiful. Supposedly the two were perfect for each other. The truth was, they couldn't be more different in more ways that he cared to admit. Draco may have been an evil bastard from the very beginning, but it was no secret that Astoria's father still dabbled in the Dark Arts from time to time, something Draco wasn't particularly comfortable with. No glamour charms would ever make the outline of the dark mark disappear; no number of sleep draught potions would take away the nightmares of Voldemort brandishing the mark upon his forearm; no matter how hard he tried to redeem the Malfoy name, it would always be looked on in shame. Unfortunately, marrying Astoria Greengrass wasn't going to help, either, but Lucius would be damned if he didn't try.

As Astoria excused herself from the group, Draco stood up from his seat, grabbing her attention with a small wave. She made her way down the aisle with ease, stopping just as she got to Draco, and he greeted her with a kiss to her cheek before the two took their seats once more. Their greetings always seemed force; awkward. Yet the second they were situated in the public eye, she couldn't stop talking about how much fun they had. How perfect they were for one another. If he didn't know any better, she was more or less a perfect fit for the likes of Lucius Malfoy rather than himself. His thoughts were broken, however, at the sound of a whining voice beside him.

"These chairs are terribly uncomfortable, you'd think they could snag better seating."

Followed by:

"Merlin's beard, this is a bloody memorial. Who shows up late for something like this?"

As well as:

"Draco, darling, why aren't you wearing the cologne I bought you for your birthday? You know I hate it when you wear that other stuff."

Draco, who had been relatively quiet since her arrival, finally rolled his eyes and turned to Astoria, a retort on the tip of his tongue. "Astoria, darling," he mimicked her sweetly, though his eyes narrowed slightly as he glared at her. "You know I just hate it when you're constantly comp-"

His comment was most fortunately cut off as the crowd started off into a sudden and thunderous round of applause. Draco turned his eyes to the stage, seeing that Minister Shacklebolt had finally stepped onto the platform. Draco reluctantly brought his hands up to clap as well.

"Welcome!" boomed the deep voice of the Minister, his arms thrown out as the crowd continued to clap. He looked nothing but pleased by the reactions he was receiving, letting the applause continue just awhile longer. Draco had stopped clapping after the first ten seconds.

The clapping had ceased, but not without the Minister's help as he waved his hands in a downward motion, signaling that he was ready to speak. "Welcome," Kingsley greeted once more, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I assume you all know why we're here. Ten years ago from today, Hogwarts was bracing for the horrific battle when Harry Potter would take on He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named one final time." Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes again. The Minister continued speaking in that booming voice of his, but Draco was more than content to stop listening.

He, instead, continued to look around the crowd, his eyes coming to rest upon a group of orange, and no, it wasn't the Chudley Cannons. Draco's eyes narrowed slightly. He would recognize that hair anywhere.

Draco would like to think of himself as a changed man. With a solid career in the Ministry and no interest in the Dark Arts whatsoever, he could honestly say that one thing would never change; that sick, almost retching feeling he got in his stomach whenever he saw the Weasleys. There were just so many damn redheads in one area for his liking. Just because he had found it in his heart to tolerate Harry Potter for saving his life in the Room of Requirement, as well as pardoning the Malfoy name (at least Draco and Narcissa's) from the list of those involved in Death Eater activity during the Battle of Hogwarts, it didn't mean that he had to like Ron Weasley or any other Weasley for that matter. No one deserved to be that... Happy.

Sure he was an ass. He was a Slytherin. Some things would never change.

The two eldest of the Weasley clan sat side by side; Mr. Weasley seemed to be balding, the red of his hair being replaced by grey. Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to be having the same problem, though the red mass of hair sticking out of place under a most unfortunate looking evening hat seemed to be quite a problem for her. Draco smirked, though only slightly. She probably didn't even own a brush. Continuing his scan of the aisle he had deemed 'the Weasley aisle,' he noted that a lot of the Weasley brood had gone on to have broods of their own, the aisle littered with the occasional child as well. Fortunately, not all of the children seemed to carry the typical genes, as only few had red hair.

Eventually, it was a little girl bouncing upon the youngest Weasley's lap that had caught his attention. Honestly, he didn't care if Harry Potter had gone on to be the Boy-Who-Bred, but it seemed a bit unusual that he couldn't recollect any memory of the Prophet coming out with a story about marrying a Weasley, let alone having a child with one. Bloody Potter could make front page news for taking a shit, but not for making a child? His gaze continued to linger over the two; if he could remember correctly, young Ginevra Weasley was still playing for the Harpies. He knew for a fact that the number three team in the league couldn't possibly risk their star seeker to go off on maternity leave, let alone become a part-time mother. Perhaps Potter was a stay-at-home mummy while his wife brought home the bacon. The thought of that brought Draco more pleasure than it should have, and as the little girl in her lap bounced off and ran off to another uncle, he finally turned his gaze back to the stage, where Kingsley seemed to be wrapping up his speech.

"... with food and drinks following in the Great Hall. And without further ado, I present to you this evening's star speaker, savior of the wizarding world, and very close friend of mine - Harry James Potter!"

Ginny kept a straight face as she brought her hands up to clap, trying to ignore the hoots and hollers from the crowd as well as the rest of her family. It could have been worse, though. Luckily she had snagged a seat as far down the aisle from her mother as possible, but she could only imagine what her mother was thinking; 'What a perfect son-in-law he would have made ... He was always like a permanent member of the family to us ... I wonder what I can do to get Ginny to change her mind about him...'

Harry and Ginny's break-up had been a quiet one, to say the least, and that was mostly due to the fact that Harry had a talk with Prophet editor Dennis Creevey before news leaked out. Of course, that didn't stop other news posts to assume what they may, but who really believed anything that didn't come straight from the Prophet? (The Lovegoods don't count.)

It was Hermione who caught her attention, however, from her spot upon the stage next to Ron. In between clapping, Hermione looked around, quickly pointing at her own cheeks and smiling widely before clapping once more and shooting her a look. Ginny rolled her eyes at her friend, but smiled nonetheless.

Just seconds later, a flash went off in her peripheral vision and she turned to spot a photographer snapping pictures of the Weasley clan as they sat about, clapping for the Boy-Who-Lived. Hermione had saved her skin, once again and Ginny turned a genuine smile to her friend before the clapping started to cease.

Harry smiled charmingly at the hundreds seated in the crowd and Ginny couldn't help but wrinkle her nose slightly. There had been a time when Harry Potter couldn't stand attention; when he used to stumble through speeches, as if unsure of what to say. The worst part was, Ginny had been there through it all, doting after him, telling him it would be alright, that he would do fine and everyone would love him no matter what because he had saved them... And now look at the prick, standing up on stage as if he owned it.

"Thank you, all of you, for coming out here today to celebrate the ten year anniversary of the death of Lord Voldemort, and the downfall of his Death Eaters. There are many, many people who helped contribute to war relief effort, and unfortunately, there are many still who couldn't make it, though are in our hearts nevertheless." Harry's gaze wandered over to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, shooting them a sad smile before traveling over to George, whom he gave a curt nod. Ginny could swear his eyes lingered over to her for just a second too long, but he had moved on with his speech before she even had a chance to think twice about it.

"To commemorate the last ten years, my friends and I, along with a select group working towards Wizarding betterment at the Ministry have put together a project to remember those loved and lost during the war as well as those who were lost at the hands of Voldemort and his Death Eaters over the last thirty-so years. To tell you more about the project, I have Hermione Weasley here with me to explain a bit more about the project, as well as to answer any questions you may have."

Harry stepped to the side, and Hermione stood from her seat, her pregnant belly jutting out from underneath her Ministry robes as she walked to the podium with the assistance of Ron. After assuring that Hermione wasn't going to topple forwards or some other catastrophic accident that Ron must have thought would have happened to her in the short walk it took for her to get to the podium, he finally took his seat. Hermione shot him a look that clearly said that he was going to get an earful from her hormones later. Ginny, who noticed the exchange of looks, hid a smirk.

Ron had always been rather protective of Hermione, and after their first child, his protective instinct only increased. Had Hermione not insisted that spoiling children wasn't always a good thing (she had told him to take a good look at Draco Malfoy), Rose and the unborn Hugo would have quickly became two of the most spoiled children in all of Britain. Truthfully, Ginny could see where her brother was coming from; after having to share everything growing up, he simply wanted the best for his child, and Hermione seemed to understand as well. Even though Ron and Hermione constantly bickered, only an idiot couldn't see that they were hopelessly in love with one another. It was one of the many reasons why she had broken up with Harry... even in their best days, Ginny wasn't sure she could honestly say she loved him. Or, at least, that she was in love with him. Not anymore, anyway.

Ginny listened with half an ear as Hermione talked, though it was mostly droning on about stuff she had already heard about. Her eyes drifted over to Harry as her thoughts wandered elsewhere. He hadn't changed a bit over the years; he was still just as boyish as ever with his messy hair blowing in the breeze and his wiry glasses only slightly off-balance as they sat perched upon his nose. Ginny frowned slightly. She wanted to still be in love him, she really did. Merlin knew it would get her mother to shut up about it all - especially about her "clock" ticking away. Ginny cringed whenever her mother brought up having children, and if she had stuck with Harry, she was sure she would have popped out a kid by now, but was that what she really wanted? To be just another accessory for Harry? For their children to be just another chapter in his memoir?

The Harpies were the number three - soon to be number two, if Gwenog Jones had anything to say about it! - team in the league. A child would have required her to give up her full-time career as seeker to be a full-time mother, not to mention a full-time Mrs. Harry Potter. Her ten year old self would be cursing to high heavens at her for breaking up with Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived. Ugh. She couldn't believe people were still using that.

It was then that Harry caught her gaze, and his eyes narrowed slightly, a look of concern written on his features. Ginny flushed after realizing she was staring before sending him a sheepish smile and turning her attention back to Hermione.

"The project should take an estimated six months to complete, and will include all of the names along the eastern wall in the Great Hall so all can see upon walking in. Family members of those who were lost are encouraged to write a line underneath the names of loved ones at absolutely no cost. All money for this project has been raised over the years just so we could complete something like this." Hermione smiled, turning a look to Harry. "It's actually a project that caught Mr. Potter's eye almost immediately after the war and saved up for this moment; all credit for the idea goes directly to Harry."

Everyone clapped once again, and Hermione took her seat beside Ron so Harry could take center stage one final time. "Thank you, Hermione, for thoroughly embarrassing me," he paused as the crowd chuckled. Ginny snorted, causing Bill beside her to look at her funny. "But I have to say, she's right. This is a project that I knew would be important for a lot of people, and it just didn't seem right to present the idea to the public any other time except for today. I stand before you, where I had stood ten years ago, thinking that I was going to die. I stand before you, as I stood ten years ago, facing the darkest wizard the world has ever seen. I stand before you, thanking each and every one of you for coming out here today to celebrate ten years of peace. I hope to see you all again in another ten years."

And with that, Harry stepped back from the podium and smiled, allowing everyone to clap for him once more.

"I personally found the Minister's speech to be quite daft." Draco inwardly sighed, trying to drown out Astoria and Daphne's gossip as he looked around for a familiar face he could pretend to make nice with. Unfortunately, Blaise had left him to fend for himself, insisting that he had to get back to Britain for a business meeting, though Draco mostly suspected that Blaise simply didn't want to listen to Astoria's gossip, either. The look Blaise sent him before apparating off was purely Slytherin.

Even if Draco were to find someone else he was the least bit interested in talking to, it didn't seem like he would be able to get away. Astoria was clinging to his arm with an iron-clad grip. Tonight, Draco was her accessory, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy it. His displeasure seemed to emit off of him in waves.

"And did you see Granger - I mean Weasley's- belly? Merlin, pregnancy was not good to her," Daphne scoffed, looking around to make sure no one was around to overhear her.

Astoria snorted, and Draco managed not to flinch at the sound. "I know!" her voice was high and shrill as she expressed her disgust. "I know we'll never look like that when we're pregnant," she said knowingly. Draco really did flinch that time, but it was his face that seemed to scrunch at the thought of Astoria bearing his child that really made him sick. Or any child, for that matter. He pitied the poor kid who had to be mothered by the likes of her. Unfortunately, that poor child would probably be his. She then turned to face Draco, laughing at the look on his face. "Stop joking around, our children will be adorable." If only she knew his look of terror wasn't a joke. "There's photo's of our mother, nine months pregnant and she doesn't look a day over four months," she boasted before turning back to her sister.

"Mm," Draco nodded down at her before looking away once more. Gross.

He continued to look around the room in mild disinterest, giving up on the search to find other company for the remainder of the time Astoria was keeping him here. Merlin only knew if he had left her for the evening, she would go running to his mother, and then he'd have to get an earful from Narcissa as well. Truthfully, he always suspected that his mother wasn't a fan of Astoria or any of the Greengrass family for that matter, but lately she had been quite pushy with him to give her grandchildren. Oh, there went his stomach, again. At least the two girls in his company had moved on to other topics. Well, sort of. At least they were off the topic of babies, but they weren't quite off the subject of upper-class hierarchy.

"- she might make a great deal of money playing Quidditch, but if you ask me, it doesn't matter what she wears, she'll always have the dirt beneath her nails."

Draco had seen this many times before; Astoria would often pinpoint a flaw about someone and turn it deadly. More often than not, her subjects were female, and more often than not, they were perfectly normal looking. She did this often, as if to trick him into thinking that he couldn't find anyone better than her. It never worked, but Draco sighed and followed her gaze to the little Weaslette, and for the second time that night, he found himself looking at her for longer than he should; for longer than he even wanted to.

But for some reason, he couldn't quite make himself look away.

"What's the deal with her and Potter?" asked Astoria, her voice background as Draco watched her twirl around one of her many nieces. It was a rather odd thing to do, considering there was no music.

"I guess they've been separated for awhile now. I heard she choked after he asked her to marry him." Smart girl. "She's been seeing that other Gryffindor from Puddlemere - Oliver Wood? He can do much better than her, if you ask me."

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly as he watched her, or rather, watched her left ring finger. No ring. His eyes scanned the room, spotting Potter talking to Professor McGonagall. Harry lifted his champagne glass up to his lips. No ring. Draco turned back to Ginny one final time, his eyes boring over her curiously, but just as she turned to look his direction, Draco fixed his gaze to the ground and to a scuff on the stone floor of the Great Hall. When he looked back up, Ginny's attention was once again focused on the children running around in front of her, her smile as she laughed causing him to frown even further.

"Are you ready?" Draco finally huffed in irritation as he turned back to his girlfriend, his voice sounding rather out of place, seeing as he hadn't used it in quite some time. Astoria glared up at him, but said goodbye to her sister nevertheless, tugging him along as she practically stomped out of the Great Hall. He was done here; all these bloody Gryffindors were doing shit to his brain. Either that, or all that hair gel he'd put in to hold his hair in place was leaking toxins into his head.