Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters you recognize. J.K. Rowling is one lucky duck.

A/N: YAY! I love reviews! I especially love constructive criticism. But, please, If you have nothing constructive to say then I don't need to hear- well, read, actually- it. Reviews exist to give friendly comments and suggestions. Thankfully, all of my reviewers so far have been angels. (Yes, even the ones that tell me it's confusing.) If you can stay with me, I'll take you on an exciting ride. If you're confused and you want me to explain, just send me an e-mail. I don't bite. I also apologise for the short chapter, but I want to give my few followers something more to think about. Thanks again to the lovely Claire… Relax and Enjoy!

Chapter 4

"Must not all things at the last be swallowed up in death?"

-Plato

Draco had lost his daughter. What was he thinking? Bringing her into this ruddy, this horrible… whatever the heck it was. Nobody had seen her since breakfast, she was missing, and she was all he had left. It had been hours now, and suddenly two really important things happened at once. First, there was a loud knock on Hermione's office door, which was where Draco lay slumped on the floor, crushing his hands to his eyes to block out the noise around him. He had never really dealt with Gabi's death. So now, feeling the sadness of two lost loves, every noise and every movement brought on scores and scores of so much pain he didn't know what to do with it.

Barely waiting for the door to open, a boy Emmie's age ran into the room frantically screaming, "Aunt Hermione!"

'Aunt? Wait a minute…' thought Draco, as he slowly raised his eyes toward the room and saw… Harry. But he was younger than he was supposed to be. His eyes were darker, and his stature more muscular and strong than Harry's had ever been. Oh Merlin. This must be…

"Andy, sweetie, what's wrong?" Hermione took the frightened and flustered boy into her arms, just as an owl urgently tapped the window.

"No time…forced breath last one to see breath Em…" The owl was growing steadily impatient, the pecking noises coming faster and faster, louder and louder on the window.

"Emeline…" He turned to the mess of raven hair Hermione was embracing. "WHO ARE YOU!" Draco stood up, breathing hard. "WHERE IS SHE…?" He spun around furiously, knocking down a few more of Dumbledore's treasured instruments that Heather hadn't yet broken beyond repair. He calmed down slightly and said, "Will you please let in that bloody owl?"

Hermione rushed over to the window and opened the latch. "It's Mr. Malfoy, right? You're Em's father?"

Draco rolled his eyes "No. I'm her bloody house elf. Who else would I be?"

"Well sir, I ran into her in the hallway before potions and…"

"Hurry up! What does this have to do with anything!" Draco was starting to get extremely upset again.

"Everything sir. I ...um, well I…"

"Spit it out!"

"I kissed her!"

"You WHAT!"

"It was an accident, then she ran away, and I don't know what happened to her and I needed to tell you!"

Now somebody else ran into the room. "Andy, wait for me! Come back here or I'll give you detention!"

Draco was reaching for his wand to curse Harry's son into oblivion when he heard an enormous thud coming from the window. Both Draco and Andy turned their heads to look at Hermione, face on the ground, not moving… "Crap" they both said at the same time.

They ran over to Hermione's side, where Andy promptly turned her over and placed her head in his lap. "Was she stunned?" Draco asked the question in a cool manner, but his eyes betrayed him to Andy. He was worried. About Emeline, about Hermione…

"Look at this!" Andy picked up the piece of parchment that had come from the leg of the impatient owl. Andy read it aloud to Draco and the other boy, his face slowly growing more and more serious, if that was even possible.

"Dear Professor Weasley:

We are regretfully sending you this letter in regards to the health and well being of Ronald Weasley, your husband. During an attack on the Ministry of Magic a mere 15 minutes ago, he was lost. We have reason to believe he has passed away. We will soon be sending over a representative to help console you, if you consent.

We will never forget him.

P.S.- Hermione dear, this letter was so impersonal I had to add a note. If you need anything right now, If you need us to take care of Castor and Heather, or just need a friend, send a note right back ok? None of us saw this coming.

- Seamus and Parvati Finnegan

Andy didn't know what to do. He felt like the wind had just been knocked out of him… Uncle Ron, Dad's best friend, he can't be dead. No. Andy wouldn't let him be dead. He can't be… no…

The world went black.