A/N: Chapter has been lightly edited, so please forgive any mistakes. Chapter takes place July 21st-25th, 2007.

TW: candid discussion of death.

Blaise apologized.

Draco apologized again.

It was days and days of everyone insisting things were fine when they weren't. Draco had so far to go in recovery that no one saw the light at the end of the tunnel. None of them wanted to say it aloud so they settled on, "It's fine."

Draco spent time with the twins and Hermione on Monday, or so Theo said. Draco was there to watch the twins, and Hermione was there to watch him. Draco wondered when he let control slip so far from his hands; whether he ever had control of his life at all. Hermione was dating other men. Draco was fairly certain his parents, Theo, and Blaise still believed he was suicidal. To top it all off, his godson could barely look at him.

Scarlett adapted to Draco's return just fine, as though the past three months hadn't happened. Sebastien, however, hadn't forgotten. He clung to Hermione the entire day and refused to answer any questions Draco asked. Sebastien buried his nose in a book he couldn't read and ignored Draco to the point that even Hermione tried to nudge him into conversation.

It didn't work.

Finally, about a half hour before Tracey was due home from work, Draco had enough. He sat Sebastien on the end of the dining room table and plopped into a chair so they were face-to-face. Hermione was watching Scarlett in the other room, but Draco knew she would listen in.

"Will you tell me what's going on?"

Sebastien shook his head.

"Please?" Draco asked. "I want to know."

Sebastien crossed his arms and asked, "Are you gonna leave again?"

Draco shook his head and said, "No."

"But Uncle Blaise said—"

"He was angry."

"I'm angry, too!" Sebastien shouted back, his eyes wide and watery. "You promised to get better! You lied!"

"No, Seb, I am getting better. I am just a little slow at it, is all. I will never lie to you. You and your sister are more important to me than anyone in the world. I would do anything for you."

Sebastien's face was red and splotchy as he began to cry.

"B-but Uncle Blaise said ... And daddy said you died. You wanted to leave and die and I missed you so much and you promised you'd be better! You promised!"

"I know." Draco took Sebastien's hands in his own. "My illness was worse than I knew and I got scared. You know how frightened you are of Hippogriffs?"

Sebastien wiped his nose and grumbled, "Yeah."

"What would you do if you saw a Hippogriff?"

"Run away."

"That is what I did. I was scared and thought something bad would happen if I stayed. So I ran away."

"You were stupid," Sebastien said. He wiped his eyes and looked away.

"Hey," Draco placed one finger beneath Sebastien's chin and asked, "what do we say about name calling?"

"Bad."

"Sebastien Theodore Nott, you look at me right now and tell me what is wrong without calling me stupid."

"YOU LEFT!" he shouted. He punched his tiny fists into Draco's shoulder. "And you are stupid!"

Hermione peeked into the dining room to ask, "Is everything alright?"

Draco waved her off. He allowed Sebastien a few more punches before putting on the "stop fucking around" face Draco learned from his father. Sebastien immediately pulled away and scooted back on the table. It broke Draco's heart to see the fear in Seb's eyes. He remembered that feeling well.

"Apologize."

"NO!"

Draco repeated, "Apologize."

Sebastien grumbled, "'M sorry."

"For what?"

"Sayin' you're stupid."

"Apology accepted." Draco sighed heavily. "Do you remember how I was getting better?"

"Smiles. You were sick 'cause you're sad."

"Exactly. I couldn't find any smiles here. I thought that they were hiding somewhere else and I needed to find them."

"That's stupid."

"Yes, Seb, it was stupid because you are here. You and Scarlett always make me happy. I just couldn't see it then. I was very sick and confused."

"Mum told Dad you might leave again."

Draco admitted, "Maybe I will. Sometimes people need to go away for a little while, but I will never leave without coming back. Malfoys always come back to the people they love, and that means you."

Sebastien launched himself into Draco's lap and gave him a hug. If only the rest of life's problems were so easy to fix. Draco allowed himself a brief moment of honesty, acknowledging that his godchildren's problems were a decent distraction from his own. Seb eventually left to play with his sister, but Draco continued to stare at a point on the wall. Tracey didn't trust him to stay and neither had Blaise. He hadn't said it outright, but the trust between them was too cracked, too fragile.

Hermione sat in the chair next to Draco and said, "I could hear you thinking from the other room."

Without looking away from the wall, he asked, "How was your date?"

"Awkward."

Draco's mouth twitched up for the slightest moment. A small victory.

"My parents set it up. He's a Muggle, well-educated, gorgeous, and the son of one of their patients. He told me all about what he does for a living, but I couldn't tell him much of anything. When I spoke about 'the war,' he assumed I meant Afghanistan, not Britain. How can I explain my life to someone without speaking about magic?"

"Easily enough."

"Truly?" Hermione wondered. "How would you do it?"

"You are a high-ranking diplomat in the field of international relations. You experienced war when you were very, very young and it left you traumatised, as it did us all."

"Some more than others."

Draco finally looked at Hermione to ask, "Have I ruined everything?"

"How?"

"My friends will never trust me again. Hell, Theo has you here to make sure I do not run off while nannying his kids."

Hermione insisted, "That is not why I'm here. We thought it would be good for the twins to have a transition where both of us are here. And your friends will come around."

"I hope so."

There was a long silence before Hermione rested her head on Draco's shoulder.

"What you said to Sebastien was nice."

"When it comes to godparenting I think of what my parents did to me and do the opposite. It tends to work."

"You're a natural at it."

Draco felt himself blush.

"Truly," Hermione said, "you handle children with the grace and kindness I only wish you could show toward yourself. And I am terrified of what I might be like as a mother."

"Even if you were horrible at it, you would learn. Dunno if you know this," Draco teased, "but you are quite good at learning things."

Hermione laughed and Draco finally cracked a smile. For just a moment, everything in the world was right again. Draco was right again, no more jagged edges and self-loathing. Just him, Hermione, and thoughts of a bright future.

.oOo.

Draco hated Tuesday, some shit about schedules and his "unexpected absence" that Lucius used to keep him home. Draco spent the entire day going through the books, writing letters to past-due tenants, and convincing himself it was okay to eat lunch. His day revolved around that sandwich; hours before lunch spent dreading it, and the hours after spent regretting it.

He sent the last letter out at eight that evening. Draco was exhausted. After so many months of doing nothing but reading and walking and allowing himself to waste away, it was difficult to focus on any one thing. He dragged himself to the study door and flung it open. His eyelids were heavy, and keeping them open was far more pressure than it was worth. It would only take Draco twelve steps to get to his bedroom door, but he could lie down on the floor and drift off right there ...

"Is it true?"

Draco slowly turned right to face a portrait of his tenth-great grandfather. Brutus Malfoy had a deep frown permanently etched across his features and white hair that stood out from his head like he'd been on the receiving end of a Ventus Jinx. Draco let his shoulders slump as he asked,

"What?"

Brutus sneered downward and asked, "Is it true that my great-grandson is cavorting about with a Mudblood?"

Draco grimaced at the profanity.

"Who the hell told you that?"

"I hear them speak about it all the time, your parents. They say you pine for her, and I can see the longing in your eyes even now."

Draco shook his head and insisted, "That is none of your bloody business."

"Like hell it isn't!" Brutus shouted back. "I did not work my entire life for this family only to have its lineage muddied by your insatiable cock!"

Draco's exhaustion vanished in favour of something new, something familiar. He recognized the feeling: rage. It was hot, boiling in his chest. Before he realized what he was doing, he had his fingers on the underside of the frame as he tried to pull it off the wall.

"Oh-ho, it's a Permanent Sticking Charm, boy! My presence will grace these halls long after you are gone."

Draco continued to claw at the frame and pull as hard as his body would allow. Brutus continued to taunt him, call Hermione downright unspeakable names, and even directed him to the more sensitive parts of the frame just to prove the point. Draco remembered every time he hurled those words at Hermione in his youth and regretted every one of them. He counted his blessings she never truly wished to kill him, because he'd have been dead before the Dark Lord ever touched him if Hermione had been of a mind.

Draco shouted, "SHUT UP!"

"No."

"SHUT UP ABOUT HER!"

"What are you going to do about it?"

Draco planned to rip his bloody face off. He pulled out his wand and cast three different charms to rip, cut, and force the painting apart. None were successful. Draco racked his work-addled brain for the cause and came up empty.

"You should know this house has magical protections for the portraits. If you learned more about your heritage, boy, perhaps you would understand our family's magic. Perhaps you would care more about protecting it!"

Hermione would know a spell strong enough. If she didn't, she would create one. But Draco was not willing to run to Hermione with his problems. No, he couldn't run to his friends for everything. Not the small things, but this? His fuckwit great-grandfather was a problem Draco could solve.

"Who owns this house?"

Brutus Malfoy scoffed, "The Malfoy family owns this house."

"And who is the Malfoy heir?"

No response.

"ANSWER ME!"

"Regrettably, boy, our lineage has been passed down to you."

"Yes," Draco agreed, "it has been passed on to me. This is my house and that means you answer to me."

Brutus shouted, "I answer to no one!"

"I will make sure of that." Draco grinned. "I believe it may be time for some redecorating."

.oOo.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Left foot.

Draco kept his breaths steady as his feet hit the dirt. Running was about repetition and pacing. Right foot. Left foot. Breathe in for four steps, then out for four, and repeat. Bastien easily kept pace with Draco as they ran through the Marjoribanks Gardens. Or maybe Draco was keeping pace with Bastien; he couldn't tell.

"Can't believe I never thought to suggest this before. I like running with a partner! Did you kiss and make up with Blaise?"

"Always," Draco huffed. He did not remember running being quite so hard on his lungs. "I patched things up with Hermione, too. Blaise was upset his wedding caused me to run off." He paused to breathe. "Which, I suppose is a reasonable notion."

"You think?"

Right foot.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Left foot.

"Obviously there were other factors at play, but I watched him get married and realized I will never have that. Technically, Blaise is the best relationship I have ever had."

"Dunno about that. Granger was practically in your lap during dinner at the reception. Dean's side of the table was whispering about it, thinking you two have been shagging in secret."

"If I fucked Hermione I'd probably shout it to the world."

"Oh, we'll know when it happens." Bastien grinned. "You wear your heart on your sleeve, mate."

"And you don't?" Draco shot back. "How is Padma?"

"Great, actually," Bastien said with an even wider smile. "Theo thinks we won't last three months. But he and Trace have been together since he was fifteen, so what the hell does he actually know about relationships?"

Draco shrugged and admitted, "More than me."

"You sure?"

"Well, he knows more about being successful in them."

"He knows what works and you know what doesn't. Seems to me I've got the best in you both."

Draco chuckled.

"Glad to know my failures are helpful."

Through a loud huff of air, Bastien asked, "What is happening with you and Granger?"

"She is interested in a relationship once I don't hate myself quite so much. Which, at the rate I am going, will be about seventy-five years from now."

"I'd say forty."

"I admire your optimism."

"She does want it, though?" asked Bastien. "We all see it, the way she looks at you. The two of you always had a visceral reaction to each other; I don't think any of us are surprised that coin has flipped 'round to the other side. But she was different after you left, like she was searching for part of herself that had gone missing. Padma was worried about her."

Draco frowned.

"It was my fault."

"Who fucking cares whose fault it was? If you hadn't left, what would have happened?" he asked. "Tell me the full truth, Draco. If you stayed after the wedding, what would have happened?"

Draco did not need to linger on that thought. He ran the scenarios in his head a dozen times in the days after Blaise found him in Paris. He knew exactly what would have transpired.

"I would have gotten worse. Relapsed here instead of Paris and guilted myself because none of you noticed. I would have felt even more guilty each time I saw the twins. Hermione would have been on my mind all the time and I would never have realized she was interested in me. That she saw me as anything more than a half-decent friend. All of that would have built up, I would have begun to vomit food again. My life would be out of control."

Bastien summed it up with, "You'd be dead."

"Probably." Draco agreed. "I would probably be dead."

"So I don't blame you for leaving. Leaving us, but especially the twins, you would never do that unless it was what you needed to do. While none of them can see through their own pain and guilt, I'll always see you, mate. If you left Hermione bloody Granger, it was what you needed to do. You are the most committed person I know. Hell, one of Theo's kids is named after me and I only see them once or twice a month while you see them every week. Do not guilt yourself over doing what you needed to do to survive."

Draco agreed, "You are right. I only wish I felt it. I mean, it is hard for me to feel anything at all. Opening myself up to forgiveness only leads to an onslaught of everything else. That terrifies me more than just about anything."

"Right," grumbled Bastien.

"What's with the change in tone?"

"I keep wondering how I didn't notice you had a problem. Not because you're freakishly thin, but you used to be funny. It is why I liked you, you know? You made me laugh, cracked jokes, always turned dick drawings into upside-down butterflies or some other shit that looked so good no one could tell it was a cock. After the war you weren't funny anymore. You hardly ever drew anything. I thought it was a reaction to everything happening in your life, that you'd just changed as a person. Never thought it'd be something like this."

"I did change."

"No," Bastien insisted, "you didn't. That smug bastard who made shitty jokes and turned dicks into art is still inside you. This disease hasn't changed you, it just suppressed everything until you were little more than a walking corpse." Draco winced and pushed Astoria's voice to the back of his mind. "The man Granger needs you to be? He is in you somewhere, just a butterfly dick waiting to come out of his cocoon."

Draco laughed. They finished at five kilometres and he was completely drained. Doubled-over, hands on his knees, gasping for air.

"I don't ... remember ... it being this hard."

"Were you eating anything while you were away?"

Draco shook his head.

"Well you need energy to run. You spent months taking in as little energy as possible, which is why this is harder than you remember. Your body has to work its way up to your capabilities again."

Draco shouted, "Is that not just fucking great?! I am not even starting over, I am going from a worse point than I was at when this started."

"Yeah," Bastien agreed, "but you're still going."

"Again with the fucking optimism."

"Someone has to have confidence in you, Draco, and you sure as hell are not going to be the one to do it. We both know you want to be the man Theo is, Blaise doesn't know what the hell to do with you, and Granger is waiting for you to get your head out of your arse. You're stuck with me and Pansy, and she doesn't do optimism."

Draco looked over at him and asked, "Why did you agree to do this?"

"To do what? Take you on my morning run?"

Draco nodded.

"Because you are my friend, and right now you aren't the sort of man I know you can be."