Taking a sip from a delicate wine, reading an old torn leather book with a small heart cut cover, he looked around the lavish room into the glowing red fire. It sparked and crackled in his gaze, and he found it held no answers for him. But in the mirror close by, a tiny answer sucking her thumb appeared to him. This little answer was wearing her lavish pink night gown and holding onto the little stuffed green dragon that had once belonged to him.
Draco turned from his spot to glance back at the little girl, whose bright silvery eyes stared widely back at him.
"What is it darling?" he asked gently, setting down the book and wine and taking off his reading glasses.
"I've had a dream papa." The little girl trumped up to her father and set the teddy bear in his lap. She then grabbed his legs and pulled herself up to sit with him, pulling the teddy bear back into one arm and placing her thumb firmly back in her mouth.
Grinning, he replied, "And what was this dream about? Another dream of unicorns I hope." He placed one arm around the little girl to keep her from falling off and leaned heavily, yet delicately on the other.
The little girl shook her head. "No papa. Guess again."
"Oh come now, tell me. What did you dream?" he asked nudging her a little. She smiled shyly, pulling her thumb from her mouth and placing both hands around her teddy bear.
"I dreamt of a woman dressed in flowers. She looked just like me papa, with long red hair and everything. She was singing, though I can't remember the song." The little girl looked puzzled, but Draco's eyes were wide and misty.
"And… did this woman say anything to you?" he asked, watching the little girls fascinated face.
"She said… look after the garden. That's what she sang. Look after the garden." The little girl giggled. "Isn't that a silly dream papa?" she giggled and rocked on his knee, squeezing the teddy bear, and he could not help but smile at her.
"Yes, a very silly dream Katya. Now off to bed with you, you need your rest." He meant it, but he did not move to take her back to bed, and he knew in his heart she would win.
"But papa… please, read to me a little while." She begged, cuddling up next to him. He sighed, refusing to argue tonight. He picked up the red, heart covered book and began to read her a story.
He told her the story of a little girl, whose mother loved her very much, but whose father hadn't wanted her. But the father knew he loved the mother, and could never abandon his little girl. And so the mother died, and the father took the little girl to a castle where she became a princess. He treated her like royalty, and he loved her. And the little girl was soon to be sound asleep in her princess bed.
By the time Draco had finished reading a story that was not written, the little girl was fast asleep in his arms, teddy bear held tight and thumb in her mouth. Draco carefully set down the book and picked up the little girl. He carried her to her room and laid her down on her bed. He tucked her into her covers and turned on some music for her dreams. He kissed her forehead and smoothed her hair.
He soon stood from the bed with a sad smile upon his face, and he walked from the room, back to his warm fire and his small, heart book. He sat calmly, fingering the worn leather. He stood once more and moved to the window, looking out at the first winter frost. Across the gigantic yard, past the lavish fountains, lay a small and yet beautiful garden. The only thing that remained in bloom was one large, red rose.
He hadn't wanted it. Any of it. It hadn't even been his in the first place. But it was, at the same time. These books, there rich wines, these things, they were not his, but those possessions which a person claims to cherish.
"I didn't want her." He stated blankly to the empty room. He hadn't wanted her. From the moment he knew, he hadn't wanted anything to do with her. It hadn't been his choice. And Ginny knew that. But she wanted her.
She hadn't known she was going to die. Neither had Draco.
"Funny isn't it? How things change." Draco turned to a portrait hidden behind a curtain. It was not a wizard's portrait, but a muggle painting done from a photograph. It was of a beautiful woman in a garden, with long red hair.
"It used to be that every time I looked at her, I'd see you. Now, every time I look at you, I see her." Amused and angered, he tossed his glass of wine into the fire.
Amazing how much he loved this thing he never wanted. This little girl was all he truly had, and yet… she was everything he never wanted.
But here she was.
"Did I create a dream? Were you a fantasy? That would certainly explain a few things." He closed the curtain over the picture which the little girl had never seen. Sighing, he sat back down, and opened the blank book to the first page, where a single sentence was scrawled in pretty cursive.
Love her like you loved me.
No, he thought. "I love her like a daughter. A daughter I didn't need or want. But I love her." He closed the book and put it away.
Slowly, he walked out of the room and turned off the fire, and he headed up to his bedroom. But on the way, he stopped to look at the little girl.
His perfect little girl.