After dropping Ron off at his and Hermione's cabin, Harry had slowly made his way back to his and Ginny's cabin. He wasn't sure if he had stayed away for long enough, but they had only just arrived so he didn't want to stray too far and possibly get lost.

When he had quietly gone back into the cabin - hoping not to wake Ginny up - he found that she was already up. She was in the bathroom, taking a shower and getting changed for dinner.

"You look beautiful," Harry says, hoping she's feeling a little better - and especially, cheerier - after her nap. "Feeling better?"

"A little." Ginny nods, flashing an apologetic smile as she sits down on her bed. "I'm sorry I was a little…" She sighs. "I'm just tired, and with Al getting married…"

"I know. It's a lot."

Harry can tell that she is getting emotional, because she takes a moment to steady her breath, her face getting blotchy as she tries her best to blink back her tears.

"I hate lying to them, Harry," she finally says, her voice weak. "I know that we have no other choice, but it doesn't feel right. I had to lie to my mum…"

"We'll tell them in the new year," Harry tells her, his heart breaking all over again when he thinks of having to sit their children down to tell them that their marriage is over. "And if you want to tell your mum, then tell her."

"Have you told anyone?" Ginny asks, her face hardening as she grows suspicious. "Does Ron know?"

"No! We agreed not to tell anyone until after the wedding, didn't we?" Harry quickly says.

"I don't want Al's day to be ruined, Harry."

Harry feels like she is trying to turn this around on him again, and they have had this fight too many times, so he chooses to ignore her. He is too sick and tired of arguing with her - of trying to make sense of things that don't make sense. Of trying to fight for a marriage that's been over for a long time.

"Let's try our best this week," Harry suggests, "For Al's sake. Then after, we can go our separate ways again."

Ginny seems to have something else to say, but she manages to keep it to herself - probably as tired of the fighting as Harry - and she gives a nod instead. The tension in the room palpable as they try to pass the time until dinner, both relieved when they can leave the small cabin and join the others again.

Harry had passed the time by unpacking his suitcase, and deciding what to wear for dinner. It wasn't a formal dinner, and surely the shirt he was wearing would do just fine. But since seeing Draco in that crimson sweater, he couldn't stop thinking about it - very much regretting not bringing his own similar one with him. Draco had looked so warm and cozy, and it had made Harry long… no, he shook off the thought. It was the sweater he was longing for - for the comfort of it. Draco had nothing to do with it.

"Will you stop fidgeting?" Ginny snaps, when they've sat down at the dinner table, and he keeps picking at the buttons of the sleeves of his shirt, looking more than just a little uncomfortable. The fabric of his shirt somehow seeming even more itchy than usual.

"Are you alright, mate?" Ron laughs, not failing to notice the look of frustration on his face. But Harry can't answer that question, because he's not sure just why he wants to rip this shirt off and scream at the top of his lungs. Or why he wants to tell everyone the truth - especially Draco. Or why he wants to warn his son not to get married, because it's definitely not all it's made out to be. Or… no, why does he keep thinking about seeing Draco earlier? Is it him he's frustrated with? Because he dared to show up here, after all he's done?

That's not fair though, Harry knows, and he takes a deep breath and he laughs away his frustration as he picks up his drink. Ron thankfully not enquiring any further, and Ginny turning to Luna to talk to her instead.

Harry chugs down his drink, before quickly reminding himself that he's the father of the groom - or one of the grooms - and that he can't drink too much and end up embarrassing his son. That, apparently is Uncle Ron's job.

When he hears Ginny telling everyone how happy she is that Albus is getting married, and how wonderful her and Harry's own wedding day was, he almost snaps. Because it's one thing to keep the truth about the divorce from everyone, it's another to flat-out lie to them.

"I'll be back in a minute," he announces to her - not that she cares - before getting up to go outside for some fresh air. He must have been so caught up in his own frustrations that he didn't notice Draco leaving too, but he finds him sitting on one of the benches looking up at the stars. "Sorry, I'll leave you to it."

"That's alright." Draco smiles politely, before scooting over to make room for Harry to sit.

Harry is not sure if it's a good idea, but inside he felt like he couldn't breathe, so being out here with Draco can't be any worse, can it?

"Do you smoke?" Draco asks as he offers him a cigarette.

"I don't. Thank you."

"Me neither. I quit months ago. They're a good excuse for when you need to go outside for some fresh air though." Draco grins sheepishly, before shoving the packet of cigarettes back into the pocket of that very warm and comfortable-looking purple coat.

An uncomfortable silence follows, and it becomes painfully clear that although they will be family soon, they hardly even know each other. Last time they saw each other, they were teenagers, and they have both changed since then. They both got married and started families. But they also both lost a lot, although Harry knows very well that he can't compare the loss of his own career and the breakdown of his marriage to Draco losing his wife and parents.

This afternoon Draco had seemed so carefree when he was playing and running around with Albus and Scorpius' pup, but Harry notices how tired he's looking now. He almost asks him if he has travelled far - or points out what a terrifying thought it is that their sons will be married soon, but who is he to say anything?

So instead, he tries to make some small talk, and he asks him why he quit smoking.

"It's a bad habit, isn't it?" Draco shrugs, and it feels like that's the end of the conversation. But he seems to be trying too, because he smiles again - albeit a small, exhausted smile - and he asks him if he's been here before.

"No," Harry chuckles. "Al told me they were having a…"

"Winter Wonderland Wedding?" Draco laughs, "Yes, that's what Scorpius said."

"I thought they were getting married at a hotel, and we'd have dinner with the rest of the guests," Harry admits, still a little shocked at how the boys have managed to put this together, especially at such short notice.

"I wasn't sure what to think, honestly."

Harry can't help but smile, because for a moment Draco seems to realise all over again just what they are here for. That their sons are about to get married, and they truly are getting old now.

"Feel like running away yet?"

Draco opens his mouth to answer, but then he just smiles - Harry noticing just how sad his smile is - before looking back up at the stars.

"I should probably go back in."

"Before Ginny notices you're gone?"

"Will you be coming back in as well?"

"In a minute." Draco nods, and even though Harry would prefer to stay out here with him - partially because he's a little worried for him, even though he's not quite sure why - he has no idea what else to say to him. So he gets up and he goes back into the restaurant, where the food has already been served and where the Weasleys are all talking - make that yelling - at each other across the table.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asks. "You look a little peaky."

"I got a little freaked out," Harry admits. "It's a lot to take in."

"That your son is going to be a Malfoy?" Hermione teases, before gently brushing down his messy hair.

"Wait, you don't think he's going to take Scorpius' last name, do you?"

"I don't know," Hermione laughs, clearly very amused at the whole situation. "I very much doubt Draco will appreciate Scorpius taking Albus' name."

Harry feels a little sick at the thought of his son becoming a Malfoy, because he knows what people still say about the Malfoys after all this time. But he kicks himself for thinking like this, because he knows better than that. And after all, what does it matter? Because when he looks over to the boys, he can't deny that as much as they have rushed into this whole thing, they do look happy together.