Author's Note: Alright, guys, the twentieth chapter, give it up for me! I would like to thank all the reviewers, you guys have really outdone yourself! Over 400 reviews! I feel so special! On with the chapter!

Here in the night, I see the sun Here in the dark, our two hearts are one Its out of our hands, we can't stop what we have begun And love just took me by surprise, looking through your eyes I see a night I wish could last forever I see a world we're meant to see together And it is so much more than I remember More than I remember More than I have known- Looking Through Your Eyes The Corrs

Chapter Twenty

Interlude: Looking Back

When Ginny reflected over the two weddings; hers and Draco's versus Harry and Hermione's she could come up with quite a load of differences that made her rather jealous of the way Harry and Hermione had vowed their love. Because, as few knew, the arranged marriage between her and Draco was celebrated with a lot of happiness and glory… superficially speaking. But if they looked deeper, they could observe that love had not been there at all during the celebration.

She remembered Harry and Hermione's wedding and got out a photo album to see the pictures of said event. The way Harry looked at his soon-to-be bride walk down the aisle with her father in arm had made Ginny's stomach pang rather sadly, comparing that way to the way of indifference Draco had looked at her in the same sentimental situation. Or maybe, the baby had just kicked and the pang she had felt in her stomach was Orma—Krystal, rather—kicking to let her mother know she was there. But she doubted that. She didn't think she was that far in the pregnancy for then.

That wedding had been very simple, not even as big as hers had been, but she still thought that it was so much far better than hers had been. Especially because she had seen her wedding as the beginning to a Calvary that she could not end any time soon. Though now that she was that far into her marriage she discovered she would not want it to end. However, the Potter-Granger wedding had been the upturn of the Wizarding World, after all, their hero was entering into married life. The hero that, given his way, would have changed his name and become a hermit along with his wife in plans to escape the publicity he was always destined to.

Funny thing, while Harry escaped publicity, her husband, Draco, sought it. Publicity they had, they did not lack it at all because Draco and his father had made sure of that, but Ginny never felt it as suffocating as Harry said it was. But, given that Harry had entered publicity ever since he was 11–years-old, that had perhaps given him a lasting impression regarding publicity and privacy.

Hermione had dressed in a long, lilac, bell-shaped, embroidered dress that fell freely from her hips, quite adjusted on top, accenting her figure and strapless, showing off tanned shoulders. Her curly hair was on a bun and a twist, with stray chocolate curls falling down atop her shoulders. Her veil was pulled over her face, concealing her glossed lips and her blushed cheeks. She looked magical, truly. And Harry's emerald gaze literally glinted as he laid eyes on his bride.

The ceremony had been very sentimental, causing almost everyone there to shed tears when they both said their vows, made by each other and written and recited from memory. They sealed it with a long, heartfelt kiss and then practically ran out the aisle towards the reception, which was being held in Hogsmeade Gardens, a local park of Hogsmeade that gladly and generously was donated for The-Boy-Who-Lived's wedding.

Ginny passed the page in the photo album to see Harry and Hermione holding a beautiful baby boy and she remembered the birth of Michael William Potter. Ginny had been quite stranged as to why they had not named the boy James, but Harry had told her that they were saving that name for their second child, because Hermione had wanted to name her first after her grandfather and Harry had said that Hermione had been "extremely convincing". Ginny did not need to know what his definition of that was.

Three days ago, Ginny had found out though that Hermione was pregnant again and had been for two months. But she saw no belly whatsoever, giving her to believe that Hermione was one of those girls that didn't show a belly until they were quite advanced in their pregnancy. This gave her a tiny, measly suspicion at how soon Hermione had had her and Harry's first child after their marriage. But she had known that already.

Michael and Krystal, Ginny saw, had never gotten along as well as their parents would have liked them to. But she didn't blame them, after all, they were both purebloods, but came from two different backgrounds. She was sure that Hermione had shown her child all the values taught to her, and she wouldn't have had any problem with Harry teaching anything like that because the child would promise to be very well-taught because of her mother's intelligence and her father's powerfulness regarding magic. That child would be a brain. It did surprise her, however, that Michael had fallen into Slytherin, out of the four houses, but she wouldn't even think about that too much. There would be a reason and the Sorting Hat was never wrong.

Anyway, Krystal was in Ravenclaw and that did not surprise her too much, but she figured she would be in Slytherin, given her attitude or in Gryffindor because of herself, the mother. But all in all, she had been quite happy. As for the girl's attitude, she couldn't so much about that because she had tried to teach her morals and values, but Draco had spoilt her to no end and she supposed she should have been ready for that. Though, Ginny tried to maintain a borderline in between getting her too spoiled or too down-to-earth.

She did not have a perfect life, she knew that. She did not begin with a perfect life, even. She was dragged into a marriage cradled with hate and repulsion for each other and she had felt like her life would end at that moment. But it didn't, and now she had a beautiful daughter to prove it.

And that in itself was the greatest thing that had happened to her.

From the moment she had been told she was pregnant, up until now, her life had been filled with joy, though with its ups and downs. Filled with happiness, but tears were spilled nonetheless.

It was anything but perfect.

But she didn't complain about it. Every day was a new day filled with new expectations and new challenges, just waiting to be experienced.

Everything was different since it started eleven years ago. Things were now extraordinarily altered from how they were at first. The relationship between her and Draco had grandly evolved, making her a great respected woman in society, plus having the love and the attention of Draco Malfoy, envied by most women in her age-frame, and some which were younger, or even older.

She would not have been surprised if her husband cheated of her, because of the situation when they first married, hell, she even thought of cheating on him herself, but she never did, or never thought about it long enough. Partly, because she was not really in the mood for scandal. And she knew that he would never forgive her, regardless of how much he did it himself.

But he never did.

She thought she would have to bear with that. But she didn't, because he never cheated on her, never even replaced her with any one of his secretaries or bimbos.

That she knew of, anyway.

Raising Krystal had not been an easy thing. She was a tough girl to raise. She got along greatly with the Weasleys—all of them, mind you—but she did not share that sentiment with the Potters. Sure, she liked Harry and Hermione, but she could not absolutely stand Michael. At all. But she should have seen it coming; both children were raised differently. Krystal had been raised to be the center of attention, and Michael had been raised to let others take the spotlight, while fighting for it himself.

The two personalities were bound to crash sooner or later. And they did. When they were six year olds and they could talk freely for the first time.

Krystal had gone up to Michael, happy to see her playmate come over to her house. The parents watched, kind of from afar, how their children interacted with each other. Afterwards, they went into the house while the children played in the yard. However, within twelve minutes, they heard the voices of their offspring growing louder in the living room.

The two pair of parents rushed over to the living room.

"What do you mean I have cooties?!" Krystal was yelling, waving her finger furiously in front of an indifferent Michael, who was looking at her as though he were bored with her display of agitation.

"I mean that. I learned in school that girls have it. Joshua told me!" he retorted back, stepping slightly away from her with a look of deep disgust on his face. "Besides your hair is too bright, it's like a crayon," he teased and Krystal huffed indignantly.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, "Look who's talking. At least my hair is manageable! But yours looks as of you did not wash it! Ever!" she pulled out her tongue at him. Ginny decided she had had enough and stepped towards her daughter.

"Krystal Elizabeth, apologize to Michael now," she had commanded, pointing at Michael and looking at her daughter sternly.

"No!" she crossed her arms and looked away. "Joshua can apologize to him. Whoever Joshua is!" And she stormed out of the living room and disappeared for a good four hours, until Ginny found her in the room of requirement, playing the piano lousily and she went to sit next to her daughter, whose eyes were puffy.

"Were you crying, precious?" she asked softly, stroking her daughter's hair, but Krystal jerked away haughtily.

"No." She kept banging down on the keys until Ginny stopped her hands. "Let me play! You can play, I want to play too!" She crossed her arms again.

"First of all, Krystal Elizabeth," began Ginny, reprimanding her daughter, thing she had not liked and still did not. "Step off your attitude or you are grounded, young girl. Now, I am going to teach you how to play but if you do not want to learn then you can leave and walk straightly direct up to your room and go to sleep. It's well past your bedtime."

Krystal didn't move and Ginny began to teach her.

Ginny knew her daughter had cried that day. It broke her heart, but she couldn't really do anything about it and besides, children usually took things very personally, so she never touched that topic again, except once, when Krystal was nine, but the girl did not seem to recall crying. Or did not want to, rather.

She had had a few discussions with Draco, a few arguments, most of them concerning Krystal, others concerning stupid things. But the bigger one was still fresh on her mind. It had been when Draco had bought that horrid creature, that dragon he had given to her for her eighth birthday.

"That thing hates me," said an indignant Ginny, crossing her arms and looking at her husband with an expression of mixed anger and mixed fear. "It tried to bite me. I still don't understand why you saw it fit to buy Krystal a dragon. Merlin knows those creatures are absolutely horrible with humans. No matter if it was domesticated in the pet shop, Draco."

"I wanted to give her something special. And it doesn't hate you; it is just a bit testy around everyone who is not Krystal." Draco had smiled at her, which Ginny found anything but soothing.

"Only you would give your child a gift such as that," she said.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" asked Draco, tilting his head jeeringly at her and overlooking her with mixed appraisal and mixed confusion. Ginny shrugged and looked away.

"That you always like to spend loads of money on her. Draco, she is already spoiled enough, don't spoil her any further, damn it."

"There's no need to swear," said Draco, slightly fuming. "And she is my daughter after all, meaning I can spend as much as I like."

"Look, just because you want everyone to know that you have money does not mean that you have to spoil her so greatly—"

"What, are you saying I give her gifts for publicity?!" he asked angered and Ginny shrugged half-heartedly. "Oh, I can't believe this! You very well know I never need a reason to give my daughter—or you, for that matter—a present, so if you are implying that I only give my daughter gifts because I want people to see I'm a good father then you're wrong!"

"Oh, please, Draco, we both know better than that." Ginny crossed her arms, looking at him with scorn, a smile almost tugging at her lips at how ridiculous the whole situation was. She was not at all comfortable with him spoiling Krystal so much. "If it only was for birthdays, then that would be alright. But you give her gifts year-round. Anything she asks for, she gets. She needs to learn life is not like that!"

"Shut it, Virginia, just shut it." Draco stood up from his chair and began pacing around. "She is my daughter; I can give her gifts whenever I feel like it!"

"She is my daughter also and I say I do not want you to give her so many gifts because that will damage her later in life! She will become very frustrated when things don't go her way and it will be your fault!" Ginny fixed her unmoving glare into her husband. "Look how you were in Hogwarts. She will become like you were!"

"Is that so wrong?!"

"Do you know," Ginny began, practically trembling from fury, "how many times you made people cry?! You were horrible! You were a spoilt little bastard running around! Damn it, she will fucking become Pansy Parkinson!"

"Don't you dare compare my daughter to that twat!" yelled Draco, standing before Ginny and towering over her defiantly. "Leave my den right now! You are so common! Just because you never had any money doesn't mean you can come demanding me to not give gifts to my daughter!"

"Bastard!"

"Whore!"

Slap!

"Never call me a whore, you deflowering prick! I only did you and you fucking know it!" Tears were burning at her eyes. That was the one name she did not stand being called. So she turned around and left, slamming the door as she cried angrily. Krystal was standing outside, having heard all of it, an innocent smirk plastered on her face.

"I saw a broom, mummy, and I want it," she said with wit, her gray eyes dancing with the light from the torch overhead. Ginny took a steadying breath.

"Ask your father for it. He will surely go out and buy it for you." Ginny walked away down the corridor, but the silver-bell voice of her daughter stopped her.

"But I want you to buy it for me." Ginny turned around, eyeing her daughter's face; malice was glinting on all of her features and Ginny exhaled again.

"You have got some nerve, young girl. Go to your room." The words were practically recited, having been said so many times. She was getting tired of it.

"But I want the broom!"

"Krystal Elizabeth Malfoy, stop bothering your mother!" came Draco's thundering voice as he stepped on the doorway. "And you are not getting a broom! Now go to your room, did you not hear?! We are not in the mood for your whims!"

They had been times which required a tough hand. But the girl had straightened up slightly since that time, thankfully. So, we see, it was not all peaches and cream around the Malfoy household. However, as bad as the arguments were, as good were the reconciliations. Both with her daughter and her husband.

They had learned, the hard way, that not everything would go as they wanted. But they did not regret anything, not even one bit. And when things seemed to go from bad to worse, they would take a deep breath and talk things out—some times yell things out.

It hadn't been easy, but it was pleasant.

But, she guessed, that had to be what most women that married Malfoys had to go through. And she thought that maybe, all the ups and downs would pay off afterwards.

Author's Note: Alright, maybe I could squeeze more juice out of the story. But really now, only one more chapter. The next one is the final one and it's done. MtaM will be over. Though I might make a one-shot about Krystal and Michael later on. But I don't know, I need feedback on that. And give me ideas for this story, if it's original enough, I might keep going on. Or squeeze them into the next chapter.

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. ;

And now, I should say what I always say. "Liked it? Hated it?" Review, please! Review! Woo! Being predictable is fun.

Blue