Hullo lovelies! We've finally arrived at the end of part I! I completed my end of year goal just in time!

I cannot believe it, I am still wrapping my head around it. Either way, this chapter is quite emotional so please be cognisant of that, and grab your tissues.

Funnily enough, I don't have much else to say. I will say give me a little time, but then part II will be posted in one go, sort of. (It's thirteen chapters.) Thank you all for sticking with this story for as long as you have, and I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think x

My tumblr: indiebluecrown. tumblr. com

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the storyline and any OC's belong to me.

"It's hard to turn the page when you know someone won't be in the next chapter,

but the story must go on."

-Thomas Wilder

Whilst James Potter settled his affairs at Gringotts Wizarding Bank, his brother was preoccupied visiting an old friend.

Draco had grown quite skilled in keeping himself hidden. He chalked it up to years of being friends with the Marauders; one had to employ great stealth when carrying out mischief.

The desire to say goodbye to Narcissa had sprouted after his conversations with James and Riley. It felt as if they deserved closure on this chapter of their lives. Narcissa would soon forget all about him, but when her memories did return, he wanted her to know she was forgiven.

Draco patiently waited for Lucius to leave. He was lingering on the edge of the ancestral blood wards, hiding amongst some shrubbery and watching the albino peacocks parade about the gardens. Around midday, Lucius strolled out of the house, checked on his peacocks with quiet affection and apparated away.

Draco crossed the wards with bated breath, and released it once it became apparent that he passed through them with ease. His magical signature had significantly changed, and was more like his Potter forebearers. The intricacies involved in magical adoption were something that vaguely interested Draco, but he would have more time to explore them one day in the future. Currently, the important thing was that Malfoy Manor had recognised his Malfoy blood. Blood was blood after all.

Draco kept a vigilant eye out for any of the House Elves as he crept through the grounds and into the house. It was peculiar sneaking around a place he'd once called home. Although, he was grateful for his familiarity with the Manor as he knew all the shortcuts, and it wasn't long before he'd reached Lucius and Narcissa's wing of the house.

When he reached their bedroom door, Draco gently placed his forehead against the wood and drew in a steadying breath. In spite of how their relationship had evolved, Draco still loved the witch who had unwillingly tortured him. It wasn't the Motherly love he used to treasure, but now a deep bond of friendship. He wished they could have spent more time together in the 'past', but he knew it was not meant to be.

Draco trepidatiously placed his hand on the cold, metal doorknob. There was no going back now. He turned it and pushed the door inward.

"Lucius? I thought you left dear." Narcissa's voice was gentle and tired. The witch was sitting upright on the bed, resting against a mound of soft pillows. A small, dark brown, leather-bound book was in hand.

Draco sucked in a sharp breath, and exhaled slowly. "Hello, Cissa," Draco said. His hand was still on the door knob, but his body was facing to the left in the direction of the bed. He took another deep breath as he released the door knob and strode into the room. He waved a hand, and the door closed with a soft click.

"Draco?" Narcissa's voice quivered and her eyes widened. Guilt and fear flashed across her features. She dropped the book, and one hand went to her swollen stomach, the other sought out her wand lying beside her on the sheets.

Draco raised his hands beside his head, palms facing the witch. "I haven't come to enact revenge or anything of the sort. I bear no ill will against you, Cissa."

Draco took small, slow steps towards the bed, and when he reached it, he cautiously sat on the edge, facing her. Narcissa was on the far side.

Draco gestured gently towards her large, rounded belly. "Have you thought of a name yet?" (Even heavily pregnant, Narcissa exuded an air of elegance.)

Quietly, as if to not rouse a sleeping bear, Narcissa replied, "we haven't decided yet. I do know that his middle name will be Abraxas—to honour Lucius's Father."

"He was a good man. Mum spoke of him fondly when recounting stories of her school days." Despite his foolish allegiances to the Dark Lord, the man wasn't evil. Abraxas had simply been ensnared in Tom Riddle's bewitching web of polished words and fanciful promises as a youth, and as a result was trapped under his command throughout adulthood.

Narcissa inclined her head politely. "Dorea was an admirable witch." Narcissa's pale blue eyes glistened like transparent glass rubbed smooth after years in the sea.

"Thank you, Cissa."

They'd reached a tentative, unspoken accord, and companionable silence settled over the pair for several moments.

Narcissa cleared her throat. "Do you remember what you told me? Years ago? In your fourth year?"

"Which part? You mean when I said you should name your child after me someday?" Draco grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "Why are you acting like you know something I don't?" The witch unconsciously rubbed her belly with both hands.

"I wouldn't say that," Draco lied easily with a cavalier shrug. Narcissa snorted ungraciously.

"Should have been in Slytherin." Narcissa said with a soft exhalation.

"Perhaps," Draco agreed. He had been a Slytherin, but that was almost a decade ago. At least, he wasn't anymore a Slytherin than he was a Gryffindor. The two house's attributes formed a balanced duality inside him; they were crucial parts of who he was.

"Why are you here, Draco?" Narcissa asked. If he wasn't here for revenge then he couldn't have popped by for some tea, a slice of cake and casual conversation. They were technically on opposite sides of this war. Even though he had been reported missing months ago, and she was merely married to a Death Eater; neither of them directly involved.

Draco opted for the simplest version of the truth. "I came to say goodbye. I am going away for a while, and I didn't want to leave without clearing the air with you." Draco spoke as if Narcissa had made a social blunder in polite conversation as opposed to having tortured him for an agonising amount of time in this very house.

Narcissa's raised brow indicated she was baffled by his precise, nonchalant wording.

"I forgive you for what you did. It wasn't your fault, and I am not holding a grudge against you nor your family."

"Draco…" Narcissa said sadly, tilting her head to the side.

"I love you, Cissa," Draco said before she could say anything else.

"What—"

"I love you. When I was younger, you were like a big sister to me, and you were a great friend. I am going to miss you," Draco said sincerely. He leant across the bed to place his hand over hers.

Narcissa blinked blankly at him several times. Pleased that he had spoken his piece, Draco made to withdraw his hand from her person when her smaller hand slipped into his and gripped it fiercely.

Draco peered down at their joined hands, resting on top of her swollen belly and he smiled morosely. "Goodbye, Cissa." A shot of pain travelled up the length of his arm, and Draco winced unwittingly.

Draco pulled his hand away from her, ignoring the painful stinging across his palms. He was too close to himself, and the pain was a swift reminder of how unnatural that was. Two of them couldn't exist at the same time.

Draco stood up, and turned to leave; cradling his hands to his chest.

"I—I love you too, Draco."

Draco paused, and glanced over his shoulder with a broad grin. Narcissa's lips were pressed together in a thin line, she was attempting to hide her emotions; but her eyes betrayed her.

"Au revoir, Cissa." And with that, he left.

Thursday, June 5th, 1980
Undisclosed Location Along Wales's Coastline, UK
Riley Paddington's Cottage
9:51 AM
One hour and twenty-seven minutes before the birth of Draco Malfoy

Draco Potter was sitting on the landing in front of Riley's cottage, his feet planted on the step below, and he was twisted to the side and stroking the top of Midnight's head with the back of his index finger.

"You're going to stay with Riley from now on," Draco repeated softly. Midnight hissed again in protest, baring her fangs at him.

Draco had tried thrice—unsuccessfully—to leave the cat inside of the cottage and leave, but every time he did, she kicked up a fuss.

"Sorry about this, Riles," Draco sighed. "It's not you, she likes you…it's something else." Draco frowned down at the feline before he glanced up at the pale haired witch. Riley was standing at the base of the stairs, swaying back and forth. She was wearing faded jeans and one of Sirius's old Quidditch jerseys.

"I think she wants you to take her with you," Riley supplied gently.

Draco scoffed softly, but a fond smile tweaked his lips as he looked down at the cat. "Is that what this is? You want to watch over him whilst we're gone?" Draco asked.

Meow. It was a softer sound, nothing like the nasty hisses she had been spitting at him for the past twenty minutes.

"Okay," Draco nodded. Midnight buried her head into his palm, and low purrs came rumbling from the cat. A short, amused noise burst from Draco's lips.

The impasse that had existed between the two for years, had broken away over the past few months, and genuine affection had bloomed between the wizard and feline. Draco was quite sad to part with the cat. One of his heartstrings plucked sadly when he realised that this was the last time he was ever going to see her.

Draco had woken early that morning, anxiously checking that he'd done everything he needed to. Both his and Hermione's keys to the Potter family vault were neatly tucked away into his chest, as well as his key to their potions room. After that, he'd made Riley breakfast and was pleased when it turned out well. Sunny-side-up eggs, sausages, and sourdough toast.

Over breakfast, Draco apologised once more to Riley about the situation they'd forced upon her.

"I know it's unfair, forcing you to live out here all by yourself, but I've left enough galleons to keep you for a while and—"

"I can make Muggle friends, Draco. I can still have a life. I'll be okay, I promise."

Presently, Draco scooped Midnight into his arms and faced his friend. "Don't miss me too much," Draco teased with a wry smile. He walked down the short staircase and halted right in front of her.

"I'll try," Riley snorted, stepping forward and quickly embracing Draco and Midnight.

As they parted, Draco caught the witch's eye. There was a desperation and urgency to his gaze that trapped her in its intensity. "Sirius is a good man, Riles. Truly. Don't believe anything you might hear to the contrary."

Riley nodded jerkily, blinking rapidly as the man rounded her, walked a few paces and stopped. The pair faced one another, and a myriad of unspoken sentiments passed between them. There was nothing else to say.

Draco turned on the spot, and he was sucked from existence. The loud crack that followed beat vociferously against Riley's eardrums.

Riley stared at the recently vacated spot and whispered into the summer breeze, "I'll miss you more than you know, Draco Potter." With that, Riley turned on her heel and headed back into her cottage.

Thursday, June 5th, 1980
Shrieking Shack
Hogsmeade Village, Scotland, UK
10:00 AM
One hour and eighteen minutes before the birth of Draco Malfoy

Maybe he's not coming, James thought fearfully. He'd arrived half an hour ago, afraid of missing their agreed upon time.

James was leaning against the far wall in the Shrieking Shack, patiently awaiting his brother. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he evenly tapped his index finger against his bicep.

Looking back, there are so many things that never quite fit, that now make perfect sense. James mused as he recalled the way Hermione had immediately taken to Remus, how defensive she was of him from the start. Although, truthfully, she was defensive of all of us from the beginning.

And Draco, I guess that's how he knew the Sectumsempra counter-curse, James thought, but frowned deeply, pondering who it could have been that used the spell against his brother. Draco briefly mentioned that Snape was his Godfather, so that automatically ruled him out. Snape was many things, but James doubted he would harm his own Godson.

James was running through a list of possible assailants in his head when footsteps echoing down the tunnel interrupted his thoughts. James looked up in time to see Draco stride through the open door.

"Jamie," Draco greeted warmly. Hermione's cat was in his arms and James's eyes widened. So that's where that little beast got to.

Draco squatted down and released the feline. She purred at him before happily trotting over to the corner of the room. She laid down, her head on her paws and her keen eyes steadily watched the two wizards.

Draco's entire body flickered out of sight for a moment, and James blinked in heady shock. Previously it was just Draco's hand, and the sight only reaffirmed that this was the end.

A sense of finality charged the moment. Unlike their farewell days ago, this would be permanent. There would be no next time. Armed with that knowledge, James took several steps towards his brother, who stayed firmly rooted in place.

"Draco," James smiled gently. The two men were almost chest-to-chest. James detested the idea that this would be the last time he would see his brother. Time truly was unfair and cruel. Neither man said anything for a few, charged, electric moments. Despite their proximity, the space between them felt insurmountable; the gravity of the moment demanded to be acknowledged.

"It appears Midnight would like to stay with you, look over you all until—" Draco's voice faltered, and his gaze dipped to his feet. His long hair was loose, and it drew across his face, hiding his grief from view.

James chose to peer around the room they were in. The meagre light fought its way into the space through the slatted, charmed windows. James stared at the dust particles swimming in the warm light. There were many claw marks and scuffs littered around the room. This had been their place, and now it was the stage for when this chapter of his life would come to a close.

"It's almost been ten years," James whistled lowly.

"We should have done something," Draco whispered, sniffling.

"We talked about this—"

"We could have destroyed the horcruxes, we should have saved you and Lily," Draco growled venomously. James knew his anger was turned inwards, Draco was speaking to himself.

James reached out, pushed past Draco's hair and grasped his brother's face. He forced his face upwards and stared evenly into his eyes as he spoke. "Then we might've both died by a stray hex, or Harry would never have been born. There are so many ways it could've gone wrong, Dray."

"It's not fair," Draco murmured, tears burning hotly in his eyes. He blinked them away harshly.

"No, it's not. But this way—this way you know that Harry will definitely live. You did the right thing, Draco."

"He's probably going to hate me," Draco admitted quietly.

"For not saving us?"

"No. You know that Harry and I weren't on good terms growing up…can you imagine how he's going to feel after finding out that I went to the past and grew up with his parents? How he'll feel to find out how close I got with you both? He'll despise me."

James bit his lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. When he came up blank, he simply began speaking and hoped that he wasn't entirely talking out of his arse. "He won't despise you, Draco. From what you've told me that wouldn't fit with his character. It may take time, but I'm sure the two of you will work through it, and become close."

"That's terribly optimistic," Draco grumbled. "But I will try my best to look after the little fawn once I get back, even if he wants nothing to do with me."

"How noble," James teased. The man rested his forehead against Draco's and simply existed in the moment. "You are one of the strongest people I know, Draco Potter. I don't know if you've truly accepted this, but you are not 'Death Eater skum'."

"James—"

"Not finished. I hope you've been paying attention, because I've been known to be fairly vindictive against people who speak ill of my loved ones. If forced, I may truly have to haunt you and make sure that you don't ever refer to yourself in such a nasty way again."

Draco let out a wet laugh, and James promptly ignored the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He'd had time to think over the past few days, and he needed Draco to know this wasn't his fault, and he needed to forgive himself for past transgressions.

"Lily and I won't be there, but you'll have Mione, Pads, Moony, Riles, and eventually, Harry. I know you refuse to talk about Peter, but you'll have the rest of them at least. I love you, Dray. Make sure Mione knows that I don't blame her for not doing anything." James cleared his throat, and then tacked on. "Plus, don't forget all your snake friends, I'm sure you'll have them as well! Slytherins look after their own, even if you are more of a lion now."

"Anything else?" Draco croaked, smiling softly at 'snake friends'.

"Tell Harry that Lily and I loved him more than anything else in the world. And that the Potter greatness clearly runs through his veins if he became a Seeker at such a young age."

"You haven't even met him yet," Draco laughed. "What if he's a little terror?"

"I highly doubt that, Dray," James chuckled softly.

"I'll tell him," Draco promised.

"Brilliant," James said, and he slid his hands down around his brother's shoulders and tugged him into a tight embrace. James buried his face in Draco's shoulder. The pair stayed like that for a long while, not speaking, they were just there.

Draco eventually broke the silence. "Being an only child growing up, I never really understood what it was like to have siblings…now I do. And I am immensely grateful that I get to call you my brother." Draco said, his voice hoarse.

It was funny how through a twist of fate, three only children had been brought together as siblings, bound together not by blood—not really—but by magic and choice.

"Speaking of family, how do you think Malfoy is going to react when you come home looking like a Potter?" A streak of mischief showed itself, and a tinge of mirth brushed across James's words.

"It will be…interesting. Cissa, even more so." Draco said.

"Do you think she'll find it odd if you don't call her Mum anymore?"

"If I know her as well as I think I do, she'll expect me to call her Cissa." Draco smiled fondly.

James pulled back from his brother, his smile didn't reach his eyes as a pale white glow encompassed Draco's edges. They were running out of time. There was one last thing he needed to do. James relinquished his hold on Draco, and fished in his pockets for the key to his chest, and a short phial with half a pint of blood.

James held the items out to Draco, whose eyebrows rose in silent query. "I wasn't sure if Hermione messed with the charm work on my chest so Harry could open it. I wanted to make sure you could all open it one day." Draco nodded glumly and cast a stasis charm on the phial before he took the items from his brother. He gazed down at them for a long moment before he tucked them into his faded jeans pocket.

Draco fiddled with the front of his loose, muted orange, button-down shirt. "James, I'm not ready."

"Neither am I," James confessed as the opacity of Draco's body pulsed up and down in intensity. White light shone from his fingertips. Draco was frowning harshly, a vein in his neck was pronounced, and the wizard appeared to be in pain. He was fighting the spell.

"James, I—"

"I know, Draco," James smiled crookedly, stepping forward and taking his brother's hands in his. "It's okay. It will be okay."

Draco's face crumpled, and he nodded jerkily. "I love you, James."

Time slowed until it was almost nonexistent. As if this one moment was stretching on endlessly. James wished it would. A blinding burst of light erupted from Draco, erasing him from James's vision and only the rough, scratchy edges of him were present. The absence of sound was scarily prominent.

James's eyes burned, and then the light disappeared in a sharp second. Draco disappeared before James's eyes and a heavy impact split open his skull. It was all disappearing through the cracks, the flood of his memories of Hermione and Draco were flowing from his consciousness, pouring into a secure safe.

James blinked, and he stared down at his hands. They were held out as if to hold onto something and he couldn't figure out what.

Draco, James thought briefly, and in a panic his head shot up. James blinked, clenching his fists and was met with a blank wall. The door to the safe slammed shut.

Nostalgia filled James as he looked around him. Countless evenings and Full Moons spent in here with Moony, Padfoot and Wormtail ran through his mind. A warm smile spread across his face as he strode forward to sit in the middle of the room.

The strange part was that the air felt like it was crackling with magic. It was so strong, that James swore if he reached out, he might have been able to grab onto something tangible. Odd. There shouldn't be this much magical residue. It's not like anyone has been here in a while.

That's not true. As soon as he thought it, it was gone, fleeing swiftly from his mind. He couldn't even remember what he had been thinking; he rubbed his scruff with the back of his hand. The more he tried to recall the thought, the fuzzier and more unclear his head began to feel. Ahh well, if it's important, it'll come back to me.

A crippling sorrow burned through his body, and he clutched at his shirt over his heart for a moment. Grimacing as he tried to figure out why he had the insistent urge to cry, scream, or break something.

"WHY?" The shrill, broken wail echoed down the tunnel, but never reached the surface. The dreadful sensation riddling his body multiplied tenfold, bubbling in his gut, and scorching its way through his veins. Then it vanished. It vanished, and a sense of undeniable loss flooded his system instead. Nothing made sense. James didn't know why he was here, or what he was supposed to be doing.

James slowly turned in a circle, clutching his head as his mind tied itself in knots.

The sense of loss subsided, and in its place was the sudden desire to go see Dumbledore. The older wizard seemed to know everything, maybe he could explain what was going. Perhaps James had forgotten a meeting with the Headmaster for some Order business or another, and had wandered down here, driven by nostalgia.

Dumbledore does want us to leave the Manor soon and move into the home he's prepared in Godric's Hollow, James thought.

James looked around the barren room, at the dusty floorboards in particular; there were two pairs of footprints present. Why? James asked, but alas no answer came.

There was a black cat, Midnight, quietly observing him on the far side of the room. It was strange. Why would he have come here for no reason and brought…his familiar. The cat was the picture of serenity as she watched him.

James saw the boarded up windows, and wispy outlines of several animals began to form. A huge, black dog, head resting on its front paws, wagging its tail exuberantly. A rat sitting on its hind legs and then bounding across the room; it avoided rousing the sandy brown werewolf. The rat scaled the stag and climbed onto its head. The stag was curled up beside the werewolf.

We had some good times here. I feel like something is missing, but...I can't quite put my finger on it. James thought.

James tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, and tilted his head to the ceiling. I wonder what we should do. Dumbledore thinks that the house in Godric's Hollow is the safest option, but something is telling me to stay at Potter Manor. James blew out a haggard sigh. Perhaps, we should just trust Dumbledore.

James strolled languidly over to the room's exit, brow furrowed as he continued to mull over his options. Dumbledore's plan is probably the best course of action. With a secret keeper, and the house under the Fidelius Charm we should be safe. (Potter Manor was too big to be put under a Fidelius Charm.) Midnight rose, her sleek form silently following her new Master.

If it'll keep Lily and…Harry…right, that's the name we chose, Harry. If it'll keep them safe then I will do anything.

James took one final look at his surroundings, his mind swarmed with memories: late night chats, full moons, and plans for mischief and pranks that went on in this single room. Somehow, it was as if he was saying goodbye.

James breathed in deeply and nodded appraisingly at the room. I'll come back one day. We all will. Remus, Sirius, Peter, Lily and Harry. We'll probably end up drinking too much Firewhisky, and talk a load of shite. James gave a curt nod at the room. We are going to make it out of this damn war, and that bastard Voldemort is going down.

James Potter left the room that housed years of the Marauders' history with newfound determination, but even as he strode down the tunnel, he couldn't rid himself of the tingling sense of loss that drifted through his veins.

End of Part I