"They're sickening," Malfoy muttered, looking over at Harry and Ginny who were trying to make dinner. I say trying because, currently, he had her backed up against the counter and they were doing things that made me blush. I really hoped that if it went any further they'd give up on lasagna and go upstairs to carry on. They'd already taken twenty minutes just to get the ingredients out.
"They're sweet," I argued, "you're just jealous because you can't haul me up over your shoulder and have your way with me." And yes, I was lucky that I was already blushing. He grinned and shifted the baby in his arms so he could move a little closer to me from our perch on the scratched wooden table.
"If I put the baby down," he said raising an eyebrow at me.
"Don't just call her the baby," I said, "she has a beautiful name. Sabin," I rested a hand on the little girl's cheek- just as smooth as his, as pale as his. I knew he didn't get how to do this, that it would take months to set the balance between being the father he had to be, the lover he wanted to be and the man he was. But I knew I would be here, helping. I might be the only one, though. Harry and Ginny would have a honeymoon, and then they'd fall to pieces again. Because they weren't ready for this, I didn't think. We were all too young.
"It's a bad name," he said, "I might call her Tara, it sounds better." He doesn't say it, but he means that it sounds less like a Malfoy's name. I understood that, too. I think if he'd had a say in the matter- and in time, I thought he'd wish he had. Not for Pansy, though, but for Sabin. Because I knew, absolutely knew, that he would love her eventually. Because even though he tried to hide it beneath his, well, everything about him he was a good person.
"No," I said, "keep it. Only thing her mother will ever give her, after all." He barely even nodded, half biting his lip. So he regretted it already. I wondered, briefly, if he'd thought about the child being mine. And all the difference that would make. I knew he probably hadn't- we both knew I wasn't ready to have something as precious as a child of my own, I might never be ready.
"You two," Ginny said, she and Harry having pulled apart- and by apart I mean all of four inches, at the best, "are far too morose." She grinned at us, and she looked about twelve. All teeth and freckles, Harry couldn't resist leaning down to kiss her on the cheek before she spun in his arms to look at us. I didn't think he'd be letting go of her for some time yet.
"Well, you see," Malfoy said, and I could already feel the bite in his voice. I put a hand on his knee, "it's been a long day." Harry nodded at him- he knew it wasn't the ending he had planned either. Ginny remained hopelessly oblivious, she hadn't spent enough time with him to know all his ticks. Neither had I, really. I had known him longer, but less than the people who fought the war with him. I can't describe how much I wish I'd been part of every battle of that war. How much I wish I could have healed Harry- even though I know I'm not the one who could have done that.
"For all of us," I agreed, "I'm going to go to bed, actually." Harry raised an eyebrow at me, and then nodded. I slid my arm around Draco's waist- I couldn't take his hand because of Sabin- and brought him upstairs with me.
Harry had the nerve to clap.
It'll be a race in the morning to see who gets to kill him.