I wrote this one late night this summer and just found it hidden in my computer. I hope it makes sense, but I don't want to say anymore b/c I'd like the reader to discover the plot and characters as they read. A definite one shot that's a bit sad but has a really sweet overall feel.

By Ginia Malfoy

I do not own anything regarding Harry Potter but this story.

Lifetime

He watched her, something he often did, never tiring of it. She was sleeping now and at peace. This had not always been so. For many years sleep had haunted her and he was still repentant, knowing that it was his doing.

Glancing around the room, he noted the change in pictures yet again. He had seen a lifetime of photographs grace the frames in this room. Children, weddings, grandchildren, happy times…these were what she remembered, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

He knew that hidden away in a drawer somewhere were pictures of them…of their happy times. When she had first put them away, it had hurt him deeply to think that all she wanted to do was forget, when all he wanted to do was remember.

A new frame caught his eye. It was small and inconspicuous, but he had always been more perceptive than most. Kneeling down to its level, he examined the moving picture and a small wave of shock passed through his countenance. He glanced at the bed, scrutinizing the woman lying there, before returning his attention to the photograph. It was of himself.

A smile, a true smile, graced his flawless pale features. He remembered she had taken it when they were dating, on a bright summer afternoon they had shared on the grassy slopes of Hogwarts. It was the year he graduated and he looked happy in the photo for what he knew must have been one of the first times in his life. That was her doing.

He abhorred the day he had left that school. She had known what was expected of him and had not judged him for something he had no control over. It was she, in fact, who had convinced him to harness his ill fate and channel it towards the well being of the wizarding community.

He had been Lord Voldemort's follower…and a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. He had been a contradiction, but then again, so had others.

She had faithfully stayed by him. She had married him. She had been the single brilliant point of light guiding him through life.

He remembered one night about eight years into their union they had quarreled; about what he didn't even remember. She had yelled at him, calling him a filthy death eater and then pleading with him to forgive her, shocked that she herself would use that injustice against him. Perhaps that was why he hadn't stayed long enough to hear her out, something he regretted for years to come.

Furious, he had apparated away that night knowing that it was probably a mistake…knowing that he would feel her guilt one hundred times over himself for making her hurt…knowing that he would get on his knees next to their bed when he finally returned home and whisper softly for her to wake up from her fitful sleep, and then profess his profound request for her forgiveness.

He had never gotten his chance to apologize that night. He would never get his chance. He had died that night at the hands of his master.

A silvery tear ran down his pale cheek at the memory of seeing her discover he was gone. Grief and guilt, he had felt them as strongly as she, crying freely along with her upon seeing her pain and knowing that he was the cause. He had tried comforting her, had tried wrapping her in his strong protective embrace, but to no avail. She had not even known he was there.

He had stuck by her devotedly for several years after that. She drifted through life, eating little, sleeping restlessly, if at all, and losing contact with the people she needed most. It pained him unfathomably to watch her lose her spark and eagerness for life.

The night he left his constant vigil, she had tried joining him. He had watched as she tested the cord on her curtains for strength. But she was stayed her untimely death by his frantic and poignant screams for her to stop, as he couldn't bear to see her kill herself on account of him.

Though she couldn't hear him, he figured out for the first time that night that she could still feel his presence. His sudden outburst of anguish had surprised her, stopping her from carrying through.

So he had left her that night, finally going where he was supposed to go in the first place. It pleased and also saddened him to see that she was finally picking up her life after he was gone.

He'd checked in on her every year, sometimes twice for good measure…watched her remarry…watched her raise three beautiful children, all with the same shade of hair she herself possessed and he had loved watch glitter in the sunlight…watched her grow older and have her own babies marry and give her grandchildren with chubby cheeks and peach fuzz heads…watched her lose her parents, friends, and brothers, and her husband.

For fifty-four long years he had watched her take life in its stride. He had once heard that in eternity, millennia would pass seemingly in a blink. But those fifty-four years had felt like fifty-four lifetimes to him, just waiting to hold her again.

He guessed the picture was displayed now that she was old and alone, finally wanting to remember the love they had shared, now void of the guilt and sorrow that had been so long attached to those memories.

Finally tearing his eyes from the photo, he lifted himself off the ground and crossed to the bed where she slept. She was quite old now; at least eighty-four, but Draco still believed her beautiful. Her once red hair was now hanging in long white tendrils across her pillow. Two wedding bands rested on a withered hand and heavy lines creased her face. She slept peacefully, surrounded by the memories of her life.

Draco kneeled next to the bed. He was finally going to be able to make his apology.

"Ginny…" he whispered in her ear. He felt her stir. "Ginia…" he repeated in a soft soothing tone, using the pet name he had christened her with long ago.

He pulled back and saw her eyes flutter open and grow wide. "Draco?" she gasped in her strangled worn voice.

"I'm sorry I left you in my anger that night... I'm sorry I didn't come home…Can you ever forgive me?" he asked in his gentlest tone, the one he would have used that night. He brought his hand to her leathery cheek and she leaned into his touch.

"I will forgive you one thousand times over if you promise never to leave me again," she choked out through sparkling tears, her eyes never leaving his.

He smiled genuinely at her. "I promise that I will never leave you again," he assured her, then bent down and brushed her aged lips with his eternally young ones. He pulled back and his own eyes now grew wide. Where moments ago had been white hair was thick beautiful red locks. Her eyes were sparkling again and her face as youthful as the day they were married.

He took both her hands in his own and pulled her out of the bed and into his arms. Fifty-four years he had been waiting to do this…and now they would be together forever.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked her softly, resting his forehead on her own but never losing her gaze.

With a final glance around the room at her life's memories, she nodded enthusiastically. He kissed her again…a long passionate, soul binding kiss as they faded into rapture.