"Draco, darling." Pansy Parkinson said, trying to stop their four-year old daughter from tearing out chunks of her dark hair. "Can't you stop reading for the night, and come and help me put Lucia to bed?" She asked hoisting the girl onto her other hip.

Draco look up at his wife. They had been married as soon as they turned 17. Immediately, Pansy had fallen pregnant, confirming an heir to the disgraced Malfoy name. Draco himself rarely went out any longer. When he did, taunts and hatred followed him. He was withdrawn. His father was dead, as was his mother. Lucius had been the first to go, dying in the filthy cell that his years of servitude to the Dark Lord had granted him. Narcissa went a couple of weeks later. She was nothing without her husband. He raised his eyes, looking at his daughter. She had his pale face, and glittering silver hair. Yet she looked so much like her mother.

He stood up, stretching his long lanky limbs that adulthood had graced him with. He walked over to the small girl, transferring her into his own arms. After all that he had been through, he had changed. He was still cool, and cold as ice, but at home he smiled, he allowed himself to be a father. "Time for bed?" He asked, letting the small girl rest her head on his shoulder.

She nodded lazily, giving her father a small smile. The two walked to her room, the one closet to his own, in the Malfoy Manor. He set her down in the bed, making sure the covers were tucking up under her chin, just how she liked it.

"Goodnight my darling." He said, placing a kiss on her forehead. It was the one thing he had missed out in his childhood. Protection, and love. It was the one thing that he would ever be jealous of. He planned to give his daughter bundles of it, so that she wouldn't turn out like him.

He walked to the doorway, leaving the door open a crack so that some light could shine into her room. And with a final look, he walked back to the sitting room, returning to his usual spot at the window. He liked too look out onto the grounds, and beyond. He liked to imagine that he could just be a normal wizard. A normal man that could forget everything about his younger years.

He stirred when he felt someone sit beside him. He looked up, giving his wife a weak smile. She had always been there for him. She had been with him through all the troubles he had faced, and she never judged. She had finally grown into her nose, and let her hair grow a little longer. Motherhood and marrying had matured her.

"Draco, come away from the window." She said, taking his hand in her own smaller one.

He looked at her, his eye eyes piercing her own emerald ones. "Why?" He asked, his voice gruff.

Pansy sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. "Draco. It's getting dark outside." She said, toying with the buttons on his jacket. "Come to bed." She said finally, standing up, and tugging on his arm.

"Okay." He said, releasing himself from the window, and looking at her. "If you insist."

Pansy smiled. "I do." She said, and with a final tug, she managed to get him to the bedroom for some well deserved rest.

Hermione Granger tugged on her boyfriends red hair, trying to wake him up. "Ronald." She said, her voice reverting to the bossy tone that could usually wake anyone up. "It's almost 2 o'clock. Harry will be here any minute." She said, giving a final tug.

"Wha…what..!" He said, jerking from his dreamy state, and sitting up post straight. He looked over to her, wiping sleep from his eyes. "You know, you could find a more pleasant way to wake me." He said, pecking her on the cheek.

Hermione grinned, and walked over to the stove in their tiny kitchen, taking out what was to be their dinner for the night. "Harry said that he's bringing someone with him." She said. "I wonder who it could be."

Ron grinned. "So he's finally moving on." He asked. Although he knew that Ginny and Harry had been close, and he mourned the loss of her every day, he wanted his best friend to find the kind of happiness that he had found with Hermione. He loved his sister, but he had also come to terms with her death. Harry needed that too.

"It might just be a friend Ron." Hermione said, pulling plates out from the cabinet.

Ron shook his head. "It has to be a girl." He said, standing up, and brushing his hair out of his eyes, a triumphant smile on his face.

Authors note- Just a short chapter. The next will be much longer.