It was late in the morning when Draco woke up, late enough that he knew he was the only one in the house. His work schedule had been temporarily changed (he'd been assigned a project in collaboration with wizards on the other side of the globe, and the time difference made floo calls horrendously difficult). He summoned Minnie to bring him breakfast in bed, and enjoyed a leisurely meal while he finished the last few chapters of a novel. A tap on his window startled him two pages from the end of the book, and he looked up to see a large tawny owl outside. "Damn Daily Prophet owls," he muttered to himself. "Why can't they go through the open window in the kitchen?"

He let the owl in and paid it, refusing to allow the appearance of the paper ruin the morning. "Go on now, shoo," he grumbled. The owl hooted, seeming rather disgruntled, and took off. Draco shook his head and tossed the paper onto the bed. He'd deal with that after a shower. He didn't really feel like reading about people getting caught flying illicit carpets or smugglers swiping possessions from another pureblood family. He walked to the closet and pulled out some clean clothes. He was passing by the bed when he happened to glance down and see the paper's headline: Body Found in Boy Who Lived Home.

Draco froze for a moment before he moved to grab the newspaper. He read quickly; the words jumped out at him, stabbing him somewhere deep inside.

October 24 – Colin Creevey, 27, of London, was found dead yesterday in Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the residence he shared with Harry Potter, his partner of five years. His body was found by Auror Ronald Weasley, acting on information received earlier that day. When reached for comment, Mr. Weasley did not reveal who had led the Auror Office to the discovery, but did let slip that foul play is suspected. Mr. Weasley seemed distraught, and was accompanied by his wife, Hermione Granger, who declined to comment.

A junior Auror stated they have a suspect, but would give no detail as to their identity, and choose not to give any further information on the case. "I cannot comment on an open investigation," another anonymous Ministry source said. We were unable at the time of press to get a hold of Harry Potter for comment.

Sometime while reading the article, Draco had sat down, and when he resurfaced he found himself sitting with his back against the headboard of the bed. He didn't know what to feel. Memories resurfaced, unbidden. Colin throwing up a shield charm after catching him crying in the bathroom. Colin listening to him rant. Colin staring at him from across the room after what happened on the Astronomy Tower. Colin asking for help, mere weeks ago.

Draco shook his head, suddenly angry for no reason – or at least no reason that he wanted to focus on anytime soon. "What's one less muggleborn anyway?" he said out loud, but his heart wasn't in the words. He got up and purposely walked to the shower, doing his best to shove all thoughts of Colin Creevey out of his mind. It didn't work. He spent the entire shower staring blankly at the wall, his hands on auto pilot. Could he have prevented...? Was this his fault?

Draco couldn't concentrate at work. He spent four hours writing a memo that should have taken less than an hour. He couldn't stop thinking about the last time he saw him, how he wanted to call him back, tell him -

Would it have helped? If he'd listened to him, if he had heard him out - would he have saved Colin?

He walked home at the end of the day. He needed to move, needed the fresh air, needed to postpone the moment he saw his wife, because she would know something was wrong just by looking at him, he didn't think he could hold it in, this feeling he didn't even want to admit to himself, not if she looked at him in that way she usually did.

The first thing he heard when he entered the house was his son. Draco's parenting instincts turned on high alert at the sound of his child in distress. He dropped his briefcase on the floor and tossed aside his cloak in the same movement, but didn't even take the time to pull off his trainers before he quickly moved toward the sound. As he came closer to the stairs he could hear Astoria's low voice, although he couldn't make out the words.

He stepped into the room. Scorpius sat on the floor, crying. Astoria held him, soothing him, but he saw as she looked at him she was near tears herself. Calming potion, she mouthed at him. He blinked, then understood. He gave a jerk of his head to acknowledge her message and left the room.

Draco returned with a small bottle. Astoria coaxed Scorpius to drink the contents, but it was several minutes still before their son calmed enough to put him to bed. Draco watched as Astoria sat next to Scorpius as he fell asleep, one hand gently rubbing his back to keep him calm. She looked over at him. She was crying, silently. Draco moved to take her free hand and raised her from the bed. She maintained their eye contact.

Astoria followed him to their bedroom. The moment the door closed she choked out. "Did you see the paper...?"

Draco's back hit the closed door. This was why his family was so upset? "I did," he said carefully, not sure what else to say.

"Scorpius got hold of a paper that Daphne left lying around when I brought him there - " She cut herself off. "Scorp was really attached to him, they'd bonded..."

"As apparently you did too," Draco said, unable to stop the bitterness of his tone.

Astoria looked at him in shock."Just what is that supposed to mean? I liked him, Draco. I considered him a friend. And he was kind to Scorpius. I thought you'd moved past your hang ups."

"They're not hang ups," Draco spat. "Just because I don't suck up to - " but he stopped at the look on Astoria's face.

"Just because," she said, "I cannot think clearly right now, I'm going to pretend you didn't say what I know you were going to say. I thought you might be a little more understanding, Draco. I know you see that I am upset. I would have thought you might comfort me, not attack me."

Draco looked at her and didn't know what to say.

"I'm going to bed," Astoria said. She walked away, her hands already taking her earrings out as she walked.

They slept on opposite ends of the bed that night. She was just feet away, but Draco felt more alone then he'd felt in a long time.

Days went by slowly, each one a never ending nightmare. Guilt plagued him by day. Nights were even harder. Scorpius wasn't sleeping much. Astoria spent hours soothing him until he fell asleep. Draco didn't tell her, but he couldn't sleep either, not until she curled up next to him. They didn't talk about their almost fight. He instinctually understood that she needed the comfort of his arms just as much as he needed hers. It was easier to let it go. He needed the physical reassurance of her warm arms. He didn't want to fight. He didn't have the energy. The guilt was too heavy.

"Don't forget, we have the monthly dinner at your parent's house tonight," Astoria reminded him nearly two weeks into the nightmare.

Draco had forgotten. "I have half a mind to cancel," he muttered to himself. Astoria put a hand on his arm, and he looked up at her. "Life goes on," she said with feeling. "Don't shut people out because you're scared."

And maybe she was right, but that didn't mean he had to listen, did it? Still, he sucked it up and showed up at the Manor with his family in tow that night. He was subdued, but did his best to make an effort. Astoria chatted about the new flowers she was planting in the garden, and Draco talked about how the project was going at work, but Scorpius was unusually quiet. He picked at his food, his eyes down.

"...maybe Scorpius would like to help, eh?" Draco tuned into his Father's voice, and quickly tried to remember what they'd been discussing. Oh, right. Building a little tree house on the Manor grounds for Scorpius. "What do you think Scorp?" he asked, looking at his son. "Doesn't that sound fun?"

Scorpius didn't say anything. "What's wrong Scorpius?" Lucius sounded concerned.

"He lost a friend recently," Astoria said quietly. "Colin Creevey was giving him photography lessons."

"There's no need to be upset over a mudblood, Scorpius," Lucius said offhand. "It's not worth getting worked up over it."

Draco held his breath. Astoria looked at Lucius sharply. Scorpius didn't miss a beat. "He wasn't a mudblood. He was my friend."

Lucius glanced at Draco, his eyebrow raised. Draco looked away. Astoria spoke up quickly. "Oh sweetheart, Granddad didn't really mean that."

Draco could see both his Mother and Astoria send Lucius a look, but his Father didn't take the hint. "I'm saddened to see that you're upset, Scorp. It's silly to treat some random mudblood as though he were a friend. See this," he said, looking at Draco, "is what happens when mudbloods join the wizarding world."

Scorpius scooted out of his chair. "I want to go home," he announced.

"Sit down, Scorpius," Draco said. His head spun. He didn't have the patience to deal with this. "Finish your dinner."

"I'll take him home," Astoria said abruptly. "Thank you for the lovely meal, Narcissa."

"Of course, dear," she responded. Draco couldn't say anything. Astoria didn't even glance his way as she took Scorpius and left. "Did I say something wrong?" Lucius asked, bewildered. "He'll have to learn the way the world works at some point."

"Lucius, that's enough," Narcissa said. "The world only works like that in your head. Open your damn eyes, the war is over." His Father scrunched up his eyes in confusion. His Mother turned to him. "I'll see you out, dear." She ushered him out of the room. Draco trailed behind, somewhat befuddled at the strange turn the evening had taken.

She handed him the floo powder when they reached the fireplace. Draco took a pinch and threw it into the fire. He put one leg into the flames before looking back at his Mother. She looked at him intently. "Love knows no limits, Draco."

And Draco remembered her words from before. He thought he knew what she was trying to tell him, now. But he wasn't ready to acknowledge it. It hurt too much. He threw the rest of his body into the flames.

Astoria was waiting for him, pacing by the fireplace. "How dare you," she said to him the moment he finished dusting the ash from his robes. "Astoria..." he said, but she didn't let him finish.

"How dare you sit there, and not say anything? How dare you let him upset our son? I don't care if he's your Father, Draco. No one tells Scorpius that his very real and very normal emotions are wrong!"

"He's not..." Draco started to say, but wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

"Not what? Not wrong? Is that what you were going to say?" Astoria crossed her arms. "Do you really still think like that, Draco? I know you were raised a certain way, I know you and I don't see eye to eye on some things. And that's fine, you're entitled to your own beliefs. But - " she paused. "But you are not entitled to make others feel less than, just because they don't agree. And you will not - will not - do or say anything that even comes close to making our son feel wrong for his feelings."

"I'm not my Father," Draco said furiously. "I don't know what to believe anymore, but I'm not him."

"I know you're not," Astoria said. She rubbed her eyes. "You and I have made this marriage work by agreeing to disagree on certain things," she said. "We've both held our tongue more times than either one of us could count, I know this. And I made my peace with that a long time ago."

Draco didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter. His wife wasn't done speaking.

"I never told you, but my parents asked me if I wanted to accept your Father's proposal for an arranged marriage after the war. I could have said no, Draco. I was given a choice. And I chose you. I looked past all the things you'd done and I saw you, I saw someone deserving of my love - and yes, Draco, I loved you then, even before we knew each other properly. I looked past everything everyone else saw to see the heart underneath. And I wanted your heart. My parents didn't see what I saw, they told me I could marry anyone I wanted, I didn't have to do this - but I saw you, and I accepted your Father's offer."

Astoria took a breath, her eyes flashing at him. "I can't make you acknowledge that you lost a friend, Draco. But you will acknowledge that our son has lost a friend. I have lost a friend. And we're hurting, Draco. I need you to acknowledge that. I need you to be the man I fell for right now - " her voice broke off, tears in her eyes. "I need - "

And Draco felt scared, and angry, and hurt, but Astoria had never looked at him that way before in all their years together - is this what he'd looked like, all those years ago, back in sixth year? Is this what Colin had seen when he'd looked at him?

And Draco felt himself move, and his arms encircled Astoria, and she was sobbing in a way he'd never heard before, not from her. Her grief washed over him, and everything he was not thinking about threatened to pound him, wave after wave, and still he resisted -

It was a tiny pair of arms that wrapped around his leg that broke him. Scorpius' touch and soft sniffles as he clutched Draco's leg pulled his already worn out mind over the brink. He shook as the tears fell. He clutched Astoria tighter, he rested one hand on his son's head, and for the first time allowed the feeling that had been welling up inside since that day he'd read the paper to take hold.

Draco had no notion of how long they stood there, even after the tears stopped. He felt drained, empty. He helped Astoria put Scorpius to bed. He brushed his teeth. Splashed cold water on his face. Climbed into bed. Pulled Astoria close to him. They lay quietly, Astoria's slow brush of her hand on his belly as she rubbed soothing circles a welcome comfort.

Something about the darkness, and the churn of the emotions from the evening, and the challenging days he'd had since finding out, and the warm feel of Astoria's body next to his, made Draco restless, anxious. He needed to move, he could feel the words work their way up, higher and higher, and if he didn't get up he was going to start talking, and he wasn't ready to hear what he would say, no -

"I love you," Astoria whispered into his ear, and his stomach flooded with emotion. She didn't say it often, preferring to let her actions show her love rather than words, and he felt as though he had drunk a shot of firewhiskey, her words flooding his body, burning his throat in the most intimate way, and his mouth opened before he'd thought better of it.

"He was more than my friend," Draco whispered to the darkness. He held his breath, waiting. Aside from a slight pause from her touch, Astoria gave no reaction. But he knew she was listening. And so he talked. He told her of a boy who caught him crying in the girl's bathroom at Hogwarts. A boy who relentlessly, patiently, foolishly befriended him, regardless of how Draco felt about the matter. A boy who talked to him, comforted him. A boy he'd kissed. Held in his arms. A boy he'd pushed away. A boy he'd hurt.

Astoria listened in silence, but her calming touch reassured him that she was still here, she wasn't going to run away. And so he talked. And maybe it didn't solve anything, and the pain and the guilt was still there, but somehow the more he talked the lighter he felt. Astoria didn't say a word, but he knew she was listening, and that in of itself was a comfort in some small way. He talked. She listened. And a part of him remembered Colin as he spoke of their days together, and how he once was the one Draco went to when he needed to talk.

How life changed. How life stayed the same. How had they ended up here?

Astoria had always disliked going to the Ministry. The chaotic noisy environment was not to her taste. At the moment, she had another reason to hate stepping foot into the building. She had to meet with Auror Weasley. It had nothing to do with her feelings for the man - on the contrary, Ron Weasley seemed like a decent man - but rather the reason she had the meeting in the first place.

She missed Colin more than she could have imagined. Missed the way his eyes lit up as he gave Scorpius photography lessons. Missed the kind way he spoke. Missed the way he laughed. The way he brought joy into every room he entered, even though he didn't seem to know it.

"How is the investigation going?" she asked the moment she sat down across from Ron. She noticed he didn't look well. There were dark circles under his eyes.

"We're nearly ready to wrap things up," Ron said. "We have enough to present our findings to the Wizengamot. There's enough evidence against - Harry. To proceed. Kingsley wants to make things as public as possible. To prevent an outcry in the event that the Wizengamot gives a harsh sentence."

"Do you think he did it?" Astoria asked.

Ron rubbed his forehead. "There's enough evidence to have a trial. I've done my job. It's up to the Wizengamot now."

Astoria nodded. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me to ask. How are you holding up, if I may?"

"About as well as you are, I'd imagine," Ron said. "Listen, the reason I asked to meet with you. The Aurors are gathering a list of witnesses essential to proceed. Would you be willing to testify?"

She considered his request. It wasn't really a question of if she would do it, but rather how she would handle it. She was still so emotionally raw. But Colin needed her. There wasn't a choice, not really. "I am willing," she said. She hesitated, then said, "I believe I know of someone who should also share what she knows."

Ron leaned forward. "Who?"

"Colin shared a bond with another one of my clients," she said. "I'd like to ask her if she's willing to testify as well. I think the Wizengamot should hear what she has to say. I won't force her, but I think she should have the option."

"Are you able to tell me what information she might have?"

Astoria shook her head. "Confidentiality spell. Your wife is good at what she does," she said.

Ron gave a half smile at that. "That she is." There was a pause, and Astoria could almost hear the indecision in the room. "Spit it out," she said.

"Has anyone ever told you how perceptive you are?" Ron gave a strained laugh. "Listen...we've sent an owl to your husband. We're asking him to testify as well."

Astoria's eyebrows shot up. "What does he know that could possibly help your case?"

Ron held up his arms. "I'm not getting in the middle of your marriage here. But I felt I owed you the courtesy to tell you."

Astoria looked at him. "You want me to convince him to do it."

"Look, we don't need him to proceed. But we're trying to give a full picture to the court. A goblin at the bank told us that Colin talked to your husband a few weeks before his death. We think he may have reached out to him for help. It was right around the same time that he was reaching out to others, so it fits the timeline."

"My husband can make his own decision to testify or not," she said curtly. "I won't force him to do it if he doesn't want to."

Ron sighed. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry."

Astoria regarded him with concern. "How are you holding up?" she asked again. "Forgive me, but you don't look well."

"I can see why Hermione has said you are good at your line of work," Ron groaned. "I'm not handling this well. And Harry keeps asking to see Colin. Hermione's found him someone to represent him at the trial, because he doesn't appear to be in the right state of mind to defend himself...he's my best mate. I'm part of the investigation that is gathering evidence against him. How do you think I'm doing." He sounded defeated, exhausted, and Astoria's heart went out to him. "You didn't have to be," she said. "You could have taken yourself off the case."

Ron shook his head. "No. I have to make sure this is done right. Everything by the book. If Harry - well. I have to know that everything was done properly, that Harry isn't given a sentence that he shouldn't be because of mishandled evidence or because someone missed something that could have saved him from Azkaban."

Astoria understood that all too well. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"So am I," Ron said. "So am I."

A week later, the newspaper headline screamed Trail Date Set for Boy Who Lived, and Astoria began to prepare in earnest for her testimony. Jane hadn't yet decided, but spent hours with Astoria, sifting through the memories that would show the Wizengamot of Colin's time at the Underground. The day before the hearing, Jane sat with Astoria one last time before blurting out, "I'm going to do it," and Astoria hugged her, and knew that it hadn't been an easy decision but was thankful that Jane wanted to speak for Colin, the way she did, because he could no longer speak for himself, and she laughed and she cried and went home an emotional wreck for what felt like the millionth time.

Draco hadn't told her that he'd been asked to testify, and she hadn't asked. When she mentioned that she would be testifying, Draco gave her a startled look. "Why were you asked?" he said.

"Colin was a client," she said, and her relief at being able to say this was overshadowed by her sadness. She saw Draco's shocked expression. "Colin was your client? At the Underground?"

"He was there for a few weeks," she said. A look of relief crossed Draco's face, and she wondered why, but wasn't ready to pursue the conversation. She needed to relax. She needed to prepare for tomorrow. She slipped past Draco to the bathroom, where she took the longest hot shower of her life, then settled herself into silk sheets, her head tilting to rest on Draco's chest.