A/N:

I. Am. So. Tired.

Thanks for all the love guys, it really means a lot to know you liked the last chapter. Have a good week and I'll see you sometime next Tuesday :) Until then, I shall be hibernating like my sluggy self.

Enjoy!

Chapter Six: Lost, Found, and Lost Again

Draco rolled over in bed and breathed in deeply, a gentle plummy scent wafting up his nostrils. "Mmm," he mumbled contentedly: so familiar yet so unfamiliar. He came-to slowly, his drooping eyelids making a sudden awakening impossible. Ah yes, he thought to himself as he got his bearings, he was in Arianwen's house. The memories of their conversation the night before came welcomely to the forefront of his mind; she'd been so warm, so very Arianwen-like that he couldn't stop himself smiling like an idiot.

He picked his watch up from the bedside table and checked the time: 10.05am - it made a nice change from his usual 6am start. Knowing that Arianwen and Llewyn were probably already awake, he rushed into the bathroom to have a shower, then made his way downstairs with Llewyn's present in hand. After a little bit of searching he found them in the kitchen, it appeared that Arianwen had moved a dining table into the big bay window overlooking the gardens, perhaps no longer enjoying eating in the expansive space of the dining room on her own. She and Llewyn were speaking lightly in Welsh to one another, laughing every so often.

"Good morning." Draco said, making the others jump at his presence.

"Morning!" Arianwen smiled warmly, moving out of her seat and over to him. "Sleep well?"

Draco nodded. "Very, thanks. I didn't realise how tired I was 'til I woke up."

"Mmmhmm." Arianwen agreed in a disapproving tone. "You look hungry, come and sit down." She pulled out a chair for him at the table opposite Llewyn and he sat down, watching his son as he huffed and pushed his food away.

"Mammy I'm finished, can we go play outside now?" He whined.

"Certainly not!" Arianwen chastised from the cooker, where she was plating up some food for Draco. "Your Father needs to eat first."

Llewyn mumbled something in Welsh under his breath; his arms crossed, he was point blank refusing to look at the apparently traitorous man opposite.

"Llewyn!" Arianwen scolded again. "That's quite enough of that!" The small blonde went red but didn't dare disobey his mother again.

He settled instead for glaring at Draco's fork.

"Here," Arianwen placed Draco's food down in front of him: a selection of lightly sugared grapefruits, dragonfruits, and lychees, followed by a plate of raspberries on French toast. She hadn't forgotten about his secret sweet tooth then.

"This all looks amazing, Ri, thank you." He praised genuinely.

She waved it off as she rejoined them at the table. "It's no trouble, really. Uh! Don't forget this!" She interjected suddenly, swiping his napkin off the table and resting it on his lap instead.

Draco couldn't help but snigger at her. "You've been a mother for too long," he joked.

"Yes, thanks for your assistance with that," she jibed back, winking. Draco laughed merrily and shook his head, going back to his food. It really was very good, though he supposed it was only natural since she'd had to learn how to cook after Betsy died.

Much to his regret, Llewyn ignored him all the way through the meal, even though he made repeated attempts to wish him a happy birthday. "Do you want to open your present?" Draco tried instead, changing tack.

Llewyn shook his head, glowering across the table at his dad. "No!"

He sighed. Placing his cutlery down on his plate, his voice became apologetic. "I really wanted to be at your party, son."

"No you didn't!" Llewyn bit back immediately, "If you wanted to come you would have!"

"Llewyn!" Arianwen exclaimed, shocked. Llewyn looked at her wide-eyed, worried he'd upset her, so she continued in a softer tone: "There's no need to be so hard on your Father, he's been working incredibly hard to make our lives better, darling, and sometimes that means that he can't come to things or he'll be a bit late, but it certainly doesn't mean that he doesn't want to be with us. So why don't you go and give Daddy a nice big birthday hug?"

Draco's stomach lurched. He looked at Arianwen in complete shock but she only smiled back encouragingly, nodding to the small boy that was now trying to climb up his legs and onto his lap. Snapping back into the present, Draco lifted his son the rest of the way and enjoyed a tight hug. "Happy birthday, Lewie."

Llewyn somehow managed to wriggle into a cross-legged position on Draco's lap, so that he was still facing him. "Thanks Daddy!" The now six-year-old beamed back, forgetting his prior resistance instantly. He tried to peer around Draco's back but slumped back with a frustrated grunt when he couldn't find what he was looking for.

"I suppose you'll be wanting your present now?" He laughed.

"Yes please!" Llewyn clapped, then formed a small 'o' with his mouth as Draco placed a long parcel in front of him. He unwrapped it eagerly but carefully, pulling the spellotape off rather than ripping into the paper. "WOW!" He shouted once he'd fully uncovered what was underneath: a top of the range 'Perkin's First Broomstick'.

"I thought you might like it if I taught you how to fly." Draco said slowly, knowing full well that Llewyn was desperate to learn.

"Ooh yes, yes please! Let's go now!" Llewyn practically bounced off his father's lap, holding the broomstick like it were the most prized possession on earth.

"Put a winter cloak on first, please!" Arianwen called after her son, who seemed to have predicted what she was going to say before she said it and was already running off to find one.

Draco scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Sorry I should've checked with you first, is it alright that I got him a broomstick?"

"As long as you show him exactly how to use it. He can't go high on it, right?" She asked, doing a bad job of sounding nonchalant.

"Yeah, he can't get higher than a few feet off the ground." He reassured.

"Alright," she nodded distractedly. She looked at him properly and exclaimed: "Oh sorry! I didn't look out any spare clothes for you!"

"No no, that's okay, I don't need anything." He tried to tell her, but she was already hurrying off to find him some. Deciding it was easier to just follow her, he caught up with her in time to see her pause outside the room her knew to be her parents. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, steadying herself, then pushed the doors open.

"Now I could give you some of your old stuff but it wouldn't fit you anymore." She muttered, distracted; he'd filled out a lot since he'd stopped using and started excising again. "There's bound to be something for you in here though." She opened her father's side of the wardrobes and ran her fingers across the rows of perfectly preserved garments. A few tears began to trickle down her cheeks and, without thinking, Draco slid his arm around her waist. Much to his surprise she didn't resist and leaned into him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Sorry," her voice was unsteady, "I don't know why I always get like this, it's stupid-"

"It's not stupid," Draco interrupted quickly, "you miss him, there's nothing stupid about that."

"Yeah," Arianwen murmured to her feet. She took in another deep breath and broke away from Draco, searching amongst the robes for something that would be suitable for him.

His heart sank pitifully as he acknowledged that his gesture meant more to him than it did to her. Reaching out, he picked up the ends of the fabric ties that were cinching her raspberry coloured dress in at the waist. The fabric slipped through his fingers easily and he watched it fall weightlessly back into place, wishing with the deepest and most tantalising longing that he could touch her again. Just for another minute.

"Here, this one should fit you nicely." She turned around, oblivious to the internal battle he was having behind her, and pushed a hardy tweed cloak and simple cotton shirt into his arms.

"Are you sure you don't mind me wearing these?" He questioned tentatively.

"Positive. It's deceptively cold out there today, you'll catch your death otherwise!" She began walking out of the room again, signalling that she'd take no further argument on the subject.

When he arrived back in the kitchen, Llewyn was waiting with his nose pressed up against the window, no doubt imagining what it was going to be like to soar through the air. Arianwen turned at the sound of his footsteps and smiled,"Suits you."

"Let's go, Daddy!" Llewyn urged, capturing his father's hand and attempting to pull him closer to the doors.

"Be careful, won't you?" Arianwen fretted, displaying just how worried she'd really been since Llewyn had first unwrapped his present.

"We will." And his calm reassurance actually seemed to work for he could see she trusted him. He hoisted his son off the ground and onto his hip so that his face was level with his mother's. "Come on, son, give Mum a kiss."

Arianwen leaned her face in, giggling as her son pressed a big kiss on her lips. She looked up at Draco, the warmth still glowing in her eyes, and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. "You two have fun," she said before he could react, and opened the doors for them to make their way out onto the hilly terrain beyond.

Maybe all wasn't lost, after all.

After hours of whooping and shouting outside, Draco decided to call it a day and bring Llewyn back in. He was impressed with how quickly Llewyn had picked up the skill and even though he still insisted that Draco sit on the back with him he didn't mind - it was moments like these that would get him through the next week of hell from his boss.

Llewyn insisted on jumping in some fresh puddles as they made their way back to the house and, just as they were within ten metres of it, slipped and fell face first into a puddle as big as him. Arianwen made her best attempt at looking angry when they came back inside, Llewyn barely visible under the thick brown mud that was dripping on the kitchen floor. "I thought you were going flying, not swimming in a bog like a mochyn!" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in an attempt to drive home the angry facade.

"Mummy, hug!" Llewyn squealed mischievously, running after his mother.

"ARGH! No!" Arianwen screamed, running around the other side of the kitchen island. She ran full circle, then jumped behind Draco. "Save me!" She squeaked, moving him in Llewyn's line of fire.

"Oh yeah that's great," Draco yelled sarcastically, as a screeching Llewyn jumped on him, spreading the mud all over his trousers, "you just save yourself!"

"Will do, thanks!" Arianwen laughed over the noise, and made a quick retreat to hide behind the kitchen door.

"Right you," Draco called out, holding Llewyn at arms length. "Get yourself in the bath, I'll come and give you a wash in a minute." Pleased with himself, he squealed with hysteric laughter all the way to the bathroom.

Arianwen heard footsteps come her way, then the door was pulled away from her and Draco stood, arms crossed, eyebrows raised questioningly.

"I'm sorry," Arianwen said, pressing her hand to her mouth to surpress her giggles as she saw just how much mud Llewyn had managed to get on him, "but when that kid finds a puddle it's every man for himself."

"That mental streak he just unleashed there, that comes from your side of the family!" He ranted, exasperated.

"Don't know what you mean," she replied innocently, smoothing out her dress.

He paused for a second, listening to the sound of mud droplets dripping on the floor. "Right! You're getting it!" He yelled, then pounced on her, encircling her body in his arms and smearing as much mud on her as he could manage.

"Stop!" She shrieked through gasps of laughter. "Let me go!" But he was far too strong and her resistance futile. He couldn't help but notice that her breasts were pressed up against his arms, her bum rubbing against his-

"Alright, if I must." He stepped back just in time, any longer and they would be about to have a very different conversation…seemed she still had a very quick and strong effect on him.

Her laughter tailed off slowly, a few rumbling chuckles making their way out of her mouth every so often. "You looked like you were having fun out there." She commented, reaching for her wand and cleaning the dirt off them.

"Yeah," he agreed wistfully, "he really took to it. I reckon he'll be able to fly solo in no time."

"That sounds like my nightmare," Arianwen chuckled. She cocked her head to the side as she always did when she was considering something. "You know, you should think of Quidditch, like as an actual career move."

Draco barked out a laugh. "Ha! Quidditch? I haven't played for ages!"

"I'm serious!" Arianwen scowled, crossing her arms. Draco smirked, he could see where Llewyn got it from. "You're so natural up there, you should go and try out, it can't hurt!"

He ran a hand through his windswept hair, brushing it over to one side. "I dunno Ri, I've already got a job-"

"A job you hate! Come on, Draco, I can see how much it's killing you! I don't like you working there." She implored.

The corners of his lips twitched slightly as he tried to prevent the stupid sappy grin that was threatening to take over his face. Malfoy's do not do the cheesy lovesick grins that the girls in Hogwarts used to coo over that Diggory idiot for, he reminded himself.

…It was nice that she seemed to care so much about it though.

"I'll look into it," he held up a hand at Arianwen's delighted squeal, "but I'm not promising anything!"

"Thank you, Draco," she said much more calmly, sensing that that was what he wanted; though she did a silent jig in the kitchen after he'd left to give Llewyn a much needed bath.

The working day had been winding down, until Cuthberson-Davis had whisked himself off into an emergency meeting and informed everyone that they would need to stay until he was done. This resulted in the office being unusually crowded for the time of day; all the Aurors, apart from Draco, were well-used to being able to leave on time. He tried not to let himself feel a small sense of self-satisfaction at their irritation.

"Right!" Cuthbertson-Davis slammed into the room with his usual pomp, jolting everyone to look at him. "I have just received word from Upper Management: there have been more attacks in Swindon," murmuring erupted throughout the office. "All the pertinent information should be appearing in your in-trays shortly — ah, here it is." The familiar sound of paper materialising in the magical in-trays followed his words. "You are all operating in your usual teams — Jacobson, Entwistle, Potter, Pritchard, gather your men and rendezvous with the local enforcement officers on the ground. These attacks are still fresh, so we're in with a chance of getting our man!"

"Or woman," Ron piped up, to a round of sniggers from the Aurors as they stood up, awaiting dismissal.

"Enough of that nonsense, Weasley," Cuthbertson-Davis snapped. "Line up with the rest of your squad and prepare for Apparition. Not you, Malfoy," he added, his mouth curving in a familiar and malicious fashion. Draco, who had been preparing to join his squad as they were filing out of the room, stopped and stared at him.

"But, sir," he said, forcing the politeness. "The memo explicitly said that all available hands were to report to duty."

"All available qualified hands," Cuthbertson-Davis corrected. "And you haven't logged enough field time this quarter to be included in that statement."

"But you are the one who's been keeping me in the office!" Draco snarled. "How can you expect me to log field time if I am the only one not allowed in the field!"

"I would have thought that you got plenty of field time in your misspent youth, Mr Malfoy; but I suppose that we aren't supposed to count all that time you and your family spent running around cursing the innocent, rather than the guilty, are we?"

Draco felt himself tense up with rage, his skin flushing hot and cold all over. He was grateful for the fact that everyone had almost finished filing out before Cuthbertson-Davis had stopped him, and so they were now alone. The other man's eyes glittered with a smug glee, knowing that Draco could do nothing to defend himself without getting fired.

"And what about all the time I have spent doing everyone else's drudgery; putting up with all your shit, just to keep this fucking job? Have you any idea how much of a strain this has put on my relationship with my son's mother, with my son?"

Cuthbertson-Davis laughed, sharp and mocking. "I would have thought that all that time you spent face down in powder would have done all that damage for you," he said. "But maybe she's far stupider than anyone gave her credit for."

The world narrowed as white-hot anger flooded Draco's system. His hands trembled where they were clenched tight into fists at his side. He could feel his nails digging into his palms.

"If you walk out of that door, Malfoy," Cuthbertson-Davis said, and Draco realised he was halfway across the room, "then don't expect your desk to be here tomorrow."

Draco paused at the door, just long enough to consider breaking Cuthbertson-Davis' smug, inbred teeth against the stone floor, before twisting the handle open.

"Good," he said, and let the door slam behind him.

Draco was kind of excited, kind of nervous. The first thought that came to his mind after he walked out was that he should tell Arianwen. She wouldn't be expecting him — it wasn't his night with Llewyn, after all — but he knew that she would be upset with him if Harry or Ron told her first.

Apparating to the house, he let himself in.

"Arianwen?" He called. No answer. He strode through the hallway, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

"Arianwen?" He tried again, and heard movement on the landing.

"Draco?" Arianwen's head appeared over the bannister rail. "Is everything okay? Has something happened?" Draco stepped back as she started down the stairs, worried.

"I just quit my job," he said. "I actually did it!"

"Seriously?"

Draco beamed up at her, giddy with the decision he had finally made, and Arianwen made a delighted noise, bounding down the last few steps to throw her arms around him.

"That's amazing!" She said, and Draco breathed in the smell of her hair as he wrapped his own arms around her back.

"What's going on?" Said a familiar voice from the upstairs landing. Draco looked over Arianwen's head to see Gwyn's face over the bannister rail.

"Oh," he said, feeling all the happiness drain out of him. He looked back at Arianwen, only just noticing how dressed up she was. "I didn't realise you had company."

"What?" Said Arianwen, confused, as Draco stepped away. "Oh, no, it's not—"

"I didn't mean to intrude," Draco said, hearing how cold his voice had become and not able to stop himself. He had already started moving towards the door, without conscious instruction. "I'll see you on Saturday to pick up Llewyn."

"No, Draco," Arianwen said, starting after him, and Gwyn chimed in,

"Stay, come on,"

But Draco was already out the door.

Inside, Arianwen and Gwyn exchanged a confused look, but were interrupted before they could begin to dissect Draco's strange behaviour by Owain calling them from upstairs: "Oi you two, stop pissing about and get back in here!"

Draco went into the first bar he came across when he got to London. It was busy but not so loud that people couldn't talk to each other, and as such, there were clusters of people gathered around every table in the place, enjoying after-work drinks. He spotted a free seat at the bar and slumped down, ordering a firewshiskey: neat.

"Keep them coming," he grumbled to the barman after he downed the first glass in one. The barman must've been used to pathetic depressed losers, he thought bitterly, as he didn't even look up upon Draco's request, just supplied a new drink every time the glass went empty.

Seven drinks down and Draco's head was buzzing numbly. He didn't notice when someone pulled up the stool next to his.

"Draco?" A familiar voice said next to him. He turned his head and blinked a few times, trying to clear his bleary vision. They eventually focused in on the brunette his father was so desperate to set him up with.

"Astoria." he acknowledged flatly. "Want a drink?"

"Yes, yeah go on then, I'll have whatever you're having." She said carelessly, more than a few drinks in herself.

"Firewhiskey." He said, downing his drink and calling to the barman to pour one for his guest.

"So what brings you here?" Astoria asked, staring as the muscles tensed in his arm when he closed his fist around his glass. He'd rolled his sleeves up and unbuttoned his shirt part way, just enough to appreciate the thick muscles in his neck.

"Arianwen." He grunted.

"Oh," was all she could think of, disappointed by his answer. "What about her?"

"Playing games with me, as ever. Caught her with Gwyn, do you remember Gwyn fucking Bedwyr?" He growled, his eyes aflame.

"Uh yeah, tha' guy she dated in sixth year?" Astoria asked, slurring slightly. Draco just nodded, returning his eyes to his drink.

"Do you remember when we dated in sixth year?" She asked, a hint of flirtation in her tone. She'd been devastated when he dumped her, had always wanted to prove to him that he'd made a mistake. And now, with Arianwen firmly out of the picture, it was her chance.

He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at her curiously. "Vividly," he grinned.

She giggled, flipping her straight shoulder-length hair over her shoulder to reveal the plunging neckline of her top. "Me too," she whispered.

"Astoria Greengrass," he drawled, "I do believe you're flirting with me. Your parents would be so very disappointed."

She smirked, moving one of her hands to his knee. "Maybe. They think you're a bad influence."

He locked his eyes onto hers, enjoying how she held her breath when he leant in. Copying her move, he put his hand on her knee, then slid it up to the very height of her leg, his thumb pressing dangerously close to her bikini line. "The worst." He whispered into her ear, brushing his tongue against the lobe.

Unable to believe her luck, her entire body practically buzzed with excitement. Sure, their social standing had taken a nose dive since the war but snagging a Malfoy would always be a catch in her eyes and Lucius was paying through the nose for Draco to get caught.