Luna found Draco in the courtyard, back pressed against a corner of the wall, legs bent in front of him, staring up at the fading stars.

"You're not a monster," she said in answer to his thoughts, sitting down beside him.

"The scene up there," he pointed to the top of the astronomy tower. "begs to differ."

"You didn't kill that girl," she tried to put her arm around his shoulders, but he pushed her hand away.

"Not directly. But I made a way for the person who did to get in here."

"You had no idea that was going to happen," she told him softly. "You would never willingly hurt someone else."

"I'm killing people by just being alive," he drew his arms around his waist, drawing further into himself.

"No one blames you for what that horrible man is doing," she insisted.

"Luna, just stop!" he snarled, finally looked at her. "I heard what Creevey's mother was telling McGonagall when I came up to the Great Hall just now. They let a Death Eater into the school, and in less than 24 hours, they have a Dark Mark in the air and a dead student. She's already lost one son to them and she's not going to lose another."

"How did she know?" Luna wrinkled her brow.

"The whole fucking town of Hogsmede saw the Dark Mark. It's already hit the gossip trail. We won't need to have an owl post delivery in the morning because all the parents will be here to get their kids by then." He laid his arm on his leg, looking at the Dark Mark.

"But surely Professor McGonagall can talk to…"

"And tell them what?" he interrupted. "That some crazy man is killing people and trying to set me up for it? That's supposed to make them feel better while they're looking over their shoulder to see if they're next?"

She kissed his cheek. "It's almost dawn. Classes are cancelled this morning. Come home and get some rest. We'll sort all this out afterwards."

Sighing, he stood. She stepped closer, pressing herself against him, arms around his waist, and apparated them both home.

As soon as they landed in the sitting room, Tabby came waddling in with a tray with a bowl of chicken soup. Draco didn't even argue, just told the house elf to put the tray on the table and go back to bed. He went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of firewhiskey, uncorking it and taking a long drink.

Luna yawned. He came and put his arm around her, leading her toward the bedroom. "You're the one who needs some rest," he told her gently, kissing her temple.

"But Draco, you haven't eaten your soup," she protested.

"I'm just going to tuck you in and then I'll come back in here," he assured, stepping behind her as they went through the bedroom door.

He waited while she changed into one of his t-shirts and pajama pants, then crawled onto the bed beside her. He brought his hand up to her face, kissing her long and slow.

When they finally broke, he looked into her eyes and whispered "I love you so much."

She kissed his nose.

He sat up, leaned over, tugged up her shirt and kissed the baby bump. "I love you too," he told his son.

He turned back to her, intending to kiss her again, but instead fled the room without another word when he saw the tears in her eyes.

She knew he was telling her goodbye.

Luna woke the next morning to find a cold bowl of untouched chicken soup on the table with five sealed parchments. She opened the one addressed to her.

My Dear Luna,

I wish everything could have been different. I wish my father had never fallen in with Voldemort, and that I had never gotten caught up in the things that happened during the war. There will never be a day in my life that I won't regret things I've done in the past few years. I wish I could have been a normal schoolboy who would have noticed a pretty girl a year behind him and courted you properly. But the truth is, if the war had not happened, had I not done terrible things, I never would have gone back into Hogwarts for you. I would have written off any notice I had taken of you as a passing fancy and never seen you again, unless we ran into one another in Diagon Alley or on Platform 9 3/4 sending our children off to school. I would have finished school and gone on to work with my father and my mother would be setting me up with some pure blood socialite so I could have a huge society wedding and produce a brilliantly spoiled heir to the dynasty. My life would have been perfect by the standards I was raised to believe. There is a part of me that will always be glad things didn't turn out perfectly, because you mean more to me than I ever believed possible. That's why I have to go now. I can't stay here and wait for Nott to come for you and our son. I'm telling myself it's because I don't want to see any more innocent women hurt and to stop the bloodshed, but it's not true. Because when I find him, I will kill him. I will become the monster I've always been afraid of being, because I'm more afraid of a world without you in it. I plan to be back in time to be the first person to hold my son. We both know there's a real possibility that things won't turn out that way, and I may not make it home at all. If that happens, go to my parents. They will take care of you both. I've left a letter for my son, for when he's old enough. It's folded up in Neville's letter. I should have asked you first I know, but I asked Neville in his letter to be our son's godfather. You can choose whomever you want for his godmother. I think it would be hilarious to ask Potter, and I would love to see the look on his face if you did. Take care of yourself and our little one. I love you more than I can say.

Draco

Three days later Draco sat in his room at a disreputable inn at the wrong end of Knockturn Alley. He studied old issues of The Daily Prophet, memorizing any information mentioned on Theo Nott Senior.

Someone knocked on the door.

Actually, knocked was not the right word.

Someone was pounding rather insistently on the door.

He had not told anyone he was here. In fact, he had rented the room while disguised as Blaise's half brother, using a false name. He hadn't ordered takeout. He wondered who was on the other side of the door, and whether he should drink more polyjuice before opening it. Or whether he should open it at all. He didn't have to wonder very long.

Someone quite rudely kicked the door in.