"Are you okay, Draco?"

He could feel someone poking him as his vision slowly returned.

"I don't think he's okay..." someone else muttered. "Maybe we should get a teacher-"

"Are you kidding! There's no way we're letting a teacher come in here when all of...this is just lying around!"

"Then we'll ask Snape to come and look at him, gods Pansy." Another voice, deeper and slightly annoyed. Draco was beginning to register them. "You're hurting my ears."

"Brilliant idea, Blaise. Now can you actually carry it out rather than whining?" A girl. Condescending.

"Surely you're better sending Vince or someone. I'd rather stick around and see his face when he wakes up. It's a spell gone wrong, I bet. Maybe he did something completely stupid like let Greg try and enchant away a pimple."

"You know, I don't actually think he has any..." Thoughtful. Stupid-sounding.

"Oh Merlin, now the first-years are getting involved." Someone kicked him and Draco felt himself frown. "Are you happy now, you git? You pass out like this and the first years get all curious. You can never shut them up."

"Back off, Bulstrode. Did you see that?"

"What."

"He just frowned at you. Pathetically, granted, but he might be coming to."

"Oh gods, please. If Draco has to be carted off to the infirmary I'll have to deal with more of...that."

"Hey!"

"Shut up. I don't even know what you're doing here."

"This is the common room! It doesn't belong to you-"

"I don't care if it doesn't. You're annoying. All of you. I hate to think we were anything like that in first year."

"Millicent, as touching as your concern is, you could really be showing it in more efficient ways." The deep voice again...Blaise. That was Blaise.

"Fuck you, Zabini."

"You're lovely but not my type."

"I didn't know you even had one."

Draco now felt as though he could move, although it might be hard at first. He still couldn't open his eyes. He shifted slightly and couldn't help but groan when he did. He felt as though the clothes he was wearing were made of lead.

"Draco?" High-pitched and terrifying.

"Shut up, Pansy," he tried to say, but it came out as strange sounds.

"Oh, thank fuck. Do you still think we should send for Professor Snape?"

"There's not much point if he's just passed out. It'd probably be a good idea to send him to Pomfrey though."

"I wonder what happened..."

"I wonder why you're still here. But if you really want to know just ask him, you idiot."

"Do you think he can hear me?"

"Oh don't start with all of that. If he can hear you, his eyes are closed anyway. He can't bloody well see you, so stop trying to do up your hair. I don't get what the big deal is, anyway. He's not that pretty."

"If he can hear you, you'll be regretting that one, Millicent."

Someone threw themself onto Draco's body, and he winced more in surprise than in pain. Compared to his clothes the person was relatively light. They slapped at the side of his face, and Draco could feel their breath. "If you can hear me Draco, then wake up!"

"I don't think he needs you to dry-hump him. Just give him some time."

"Too right," Draco said and this time he actually did. He put all of his effort into pushing Pansy off, and was satisfied to hear her 'oof' as she rolled away. He decided that if everything else was coming back, opening his eyes might not be so horrible...

Everything was bright, but he could soon make out shapes and colours. The ceiling was high and wooden beams ran across it. The walls were pale and there was an empty fireplace in front of him. How ironic. Green and silver banners were strung up here and there, and looking down at him were several of his friends, who seemed to think that their suddenly being teenagers again was completely normal.

"Holy shit," he said, and closed his eyes again.

"See? You frightened him off!" Millicent said aggressively, and the first year girl made a cry of dismay and ran off.

"It should not be that easy to deal with them." Blaise shook his head.

"They're just sad. I don't know how they expect to survive in this house – and they want to replace us in a few years? What bullshit."

"Draco? Are you okay?" Pansy asked tentatively.

"No I'm not okay. What the fuck am I – and all of you – doing here?" Draco opened his eyes and looked at them suspiciously. "Am I dead?"

"You're going to wish you were, for scaring me like that."

"Oh, I'm so happy that you care, Millicent. But if I'm dead I don't have to fucking worry, do I?" he let his head fall back again. "Shit! What's Scorpius going to do without me?"

"The constellation?" Blaise sounded bewildered for once.

"Trelawney must have got to him," Pansy said knowingly, and the others made sounds of agreement.

"No, you fucking-" Draco shouted, and then broke off and rested a hand over his face. "My son. Scorpius is my son."

"I would very much like to know how you managed that."

Draco shifted so he was partially raised and leaning on his elbows. "Funny that, Blaise. I got married and then we did the nasty a few times, and bang. There he was."

"I think he's delusional," Millicent said.

"I'm going to go get Professor Snape." Pansy got to her feet and nodded at Millicent before leaving the room.

"How did you get married, then?"

"My father picked the loveliest bitch that he could find, and then stood me in front of a priest with her. Fuck off, Blaise."

Blaise studied him for a moment and then crossed his arms, asking very seriously: "How old's this son of yours?"

Draco's face softened. "Eleven. I just saw him off for Hogwarts, actually."

"I don't think he's kidding, Millicent," Blaise said quietly to the other Slytherin.

"What, so you think he's actually..."

"I don't know. I don't know if it's true or just a very elaborate dream that he had, but I don't think he's making this up." Blaise came to crouch in front of Draco. "Do you love your son?"

Draco gave up. If this wasn't real then it didn't matter if he was honest. "If it hadn't been for him I would have killed myself a long time ago," he admitted. "And now I'm dead anyway. How sad is that!"

"Who won the war?" Blaise asked.

"Who do you think?" Draco spat at him. "Harry Potter."

Millicent started at that, but didn't say anything. Blaise just kept asking questions. "What year is it?"

"2017. What does it matter."

"Shit..." Millicent said under her breath.

"Did anyone go to Azkaban?"

"A few. My parents were safe. None of us Slytherins did, just some family."

Blaise looked curious. "Then why did you want to kill yourself?"

"Because..." Draco choked on his words. This seemed to be some kind of test, maybe to see where he should go now that he'd died. It actually felt real, his old friends asking him these questions. They were working out his motives and judging him, he thought. It was all that he could do to answer properly. "I brought them here. I brought the Death Eaters to Hogwarts. People died, Blaise. People got injured, both in body and in soul.

"Everyone...everyone blamed me. But more than that I blamed myself. I should have been stronger. I should have resisted my father and all the shit that he taught me. After the war...I became a different person. But it took a long time. By the time that I'd changed it was too late for me to have the life I realised I wanted. And then Scorpius was growing up, and I had to stick around for him. He's a good kid. You should meet him, Blaise," Draco smiled at the thought.

"Are we friends where you came from?" Strangely Blaise seemed almost afraid of the answer.

"You took a job at the Ministry, working with Muggles. You had to deny any relationship with me to get it. And Millicent...she tried. I pushed her away. I'm so sorry," he looked at her, almost in tears. "Astoria keeps trying to get in contact with you. I think you're smart for ignoring her."

"Draco, you can't be that bad..." Millicent said.

He laughed. "No, she's just such a bitch. I wish I'd never married her."

"Why did you?" Blaise asked.

"Professor Snape will be getting here soon," Millicent told him and he nodded.

"I didn't care. I was really bad back then. My father thought it was a good time to marry me off, and it didn't matter to me so I didn't do anything about it."

"Didn't you want to get married eventually?"

"I couldn't marry the person I wanted to, so it didn't matter to me."

Blaise leaned in slightly. "Who did you want to marry?"

No one had ever asked him that question. Narcissa hadn't had to, but no one else had even thought of just asking Draco who he wanted. Now that someone had it was harder to answer than he thought. He ran his hands over his face madly. "It doesn't matter. I can't. I couldn't. You know, he ended up marrying that Weasley girl. They had three kids. Three! I only have one and I think that's enough. They named them all the most stupid things – James, and Lily, and Albus. How stupid is that? That child is going to be bullied insanely at school. Named after Dumbledore. And do you know what his middle name is? Severus. After Snape. I feel so sorry for him..."

He knew he was babbling, but it didn't matter, just like nothing else mattered now that he was dead. He could feel hot tears on his cheeks, and his hair must be mussed more than he'd ever let it be at this age, but he didn't plan on fixing it. He needed to cry, dammit. He hadn't while he'd been alive.

"Are you serious?" Blaise whispered, his face pale like Draco had never seen it.

"I wish I wasn't. I wish for so many things, Blaise..." Draco couldn't help it, he was actually crying now. "At least now that I'm dead I don't have to think about them anymore."

Millicent stooped down beside them both and took Draco's hand. She rubbed it in a way that was surprisingly calming. He sat up a bit more and leaned on her shoulder.

"Did anyone die?" Blaise asked, ignoring Millicent's sound of protest.

"A lot of people," Draco said, calming down so that he didn't sob although tears still ran down his face.

"Who?" Blaise persisted.

"Snape. Dumbledore. Vince. The Minister. A few students, like that annoying one who kept taking photos all the time – Creevey. Fred Weasley. Lupin, he was a professor here for a bit. I heard his wife died as well, they left behind a boy... Aunt Bella. So many Death Eaters, and if they didn't die they went to Azkaban. Your mother was safe, Blaise, she was always too smart to get caught up in this stuff. Millicent fought against Voldemort and that kept her parents out."

"Vince...died?" Millicent said, almost uncomprehendingly.

"I told him to stop. He wouldn't listen. It was my fault."

"Idiot," Blaise muttered, and Draco didn't get to ask who he was talking about when the door swung open and Snape came marching in. He spoke quickly and quietly to Draco, as if he didn't want Snape to hear. "When did all this happen?"

"Seventh year."

"How did you get here?"

"A white light-" Draco broke off when Millicent gripped his hand tightly.

"He hardly seems deserving of your hysterics, Miss Parkinson," Snape said drily, looking Draco over. "Some tissues likely wouldn't go amiss, but I'm afraid potions won't be able to help you there."

"Just a moment ago, Professor, he was-"

"It's true, Professor Snape. He just passed out suddenly. He's regained consciousness now, and we're going to take him to the infirmary," Millicent interrupted. She could manage to sound perfectly innocent when she wanted to and had stopped cussing all over the place. Draco had always liked her.

Snape studied her for a moment and then Draco again. "That sounds acceptable. I'll be returning to my class, now. And would you all please have the foresight not to leave maps of the school lying about the common room? It looks very suspicious." He swept around and went back the way he'd just came, not seeming to notice the hardness of Draco's stare.

"I still don't like him," he said quietly.

Millicent looked at him in surprise. "I thought he was close to your family?"

"There are more important things than family," Draco said, then laughed at his own hypocrisy. He couldn't really believe that, or he'd have left Scorpius behind long ago. "No. No, there aren't. At least for some people. I just don't like him, that's all."

"I'm so glad you're better, Draco! I was really worried, you know," Pansy cried and tried to throw herself on him again. He pushed her off forcefully and sat up, brushing away his tears and preparing to stand up.

"Why didn't you marry Pansy?" Blaise asked, watching them.

Draco laughed at that. "She liked the look of a seventh year when we were in sixth."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing. Really. We're going to take Draco up to the infirmary now, so can you deal with all of this?" Millicent said, gesturing at the maps scattered around them before leaning down to help Draco carefully up. Draco found himself being supported by both Blaise and Millicent before Pansy could protest. If she insisted on going with them it would take a bit of work to switch them around, and it might be too much for Draco. She didn't have a choice.

"Fine," she said sullenly.

Draco didn't need to lean on his friends as much as they were asking him to, but it made the walk over to the door a lot easier on him. They went slowly and carefully, until they worked out a rhythm and started at a more regular pace.

The dungeons were as dark and gloomy as he remembered, but as they stepped out into the halls Draco saw again how Hogwarts had looked and felt before the battle that took place there. The halls were wide and unnecessarily tall, with portraits everywhere of people doing all sorts of things. More than one was asleep, able to ignore the students that were walking below. It was bright and comfortable, and as Draco looked around he hoped that it had been returned to its former glory so that Scorpius could enjoy this place as much as he once had.

Blaise noticed him glancing around. "What are you thinking about?" he asked softly.

"My son. I hope he does well here," Draco told him. "I taught him as best I could, so that he could overcome the Malfoy reputation. But I don't expect people to make it easy on him."

"You said he was eleven..." Blaise said thoughtfully. "Do you know anybody else's kids that'll be in his year?"

"A few. Albus Potter for one, I'm looking forward to seeing how that goes. Or," he faltered. "I guess I won't get to, now. Rose Weasley as well – she's Granger and Weasley's oldest. I didn't expect them to get along, really. Her father's set against me and seems to think Scorpius is just the same as I was. But it doesn't matter anyway. None of them have good feeling for any of the Malfoys. I just wish they didn't have to catch Scorpius up in all of that."

"No parent would," Blaise murmured. "Out of curiosity, did I ever get married?"

Draco grinned at him. "You were a womaniser for years until a Ravenclaw finally got you."

"What about me?" Millicent asked, her hopefulness written all over her face. She'd always been far too aware of her looks when she wasn't so bad-looking. When she'd gotten older and more comfortable with herself, she'd become quite striking. Draco knew that Millicent at this age had secretly worried she'd never find someone.

"I think you'd rather be surprised, Millie," Draco said with a gentle smile. "You had a wonderful romance, and I don't want to ruin it for you. But you're happy. I know that very well."

She blushed slightly and tried to look unaffected. Draco couldn't help but grin. He'd missed them both, and talking to them like this about their lives was something he'd always wanted to do.

"So what's Scorpius like?" Blaise stepped forward so that he could turn and help him up onto a moving staircase.

"He's more than I could have asked for." Draco took his arm and pulled himself up carefully, with Millicent supporting his other side. He didn't hurt, but he'd be happy when control of his body returned completely. "He's more intelligent than I daresay even Mother is, but friendly and considerate. He can hide his emotions if he has to – I don't know if you can avoid that if you're a Malfoy – but he's most charming when he doesn't bother."

Draco paused to catch his breath, and then nodded for them to keep going. "He's not at all shy, and asks more questions than I can even remember having. He's constantly outwitting me and I never thought that would be so much fun." He smiled to himself. "I think he might be a Gryffindor."

Blaise almost tripped and then swore under his breath. "Well, if there was ever any doubt that you're not the Draco Malfoy that we know, that sorted it. You'd be proud of your son going into Gryffindor. Now I've heard everything."

"Well, it's like...Scorpius always gets whatever he decides he wants. But he does that so rarely that it's not an issue. And it's never anything frivolous, like a pet or a new set of robes. He told me when he got his letter that he liked the sound of Gryffindor. He'd decided that was what he wanted, and that was what he was going to get," Draco tried to explain.

"You can't just choose your house, Draco."

"I certainly did," Draco replied. "And believe me when I say that my son will find a way."

"He sounds like he'll be fine, then," Millicent said. He'd very nearly forgotten she was there. "You don't have to worry about him. He'll take care of himself."

Draco thought about that for a moment, ignoring the looks that Blaise and Millicent were giving each other. He didn't need to know what was going on with them. They were just figments of his imagination, made real somehow to make dying easier. "You're right," he said finally. "I should have realised that."

They walked for a few more minutes, occasionally stopping so that Draco could catch his breath or check to see how much of his control had come back. It was incredibly slow. He supposed it took Pansy sprawled on top of him to shock his body into working.

He was concentrating on his feet when they turned a corner and Blaise swore. He was doing that a lot more than Draco remembered. When he gripped Draco's arm more tightly he looked up to see what he'd missed.

Of all the people to run into, there were Harry and Weasley and Granger, just standing there looking at him with the same suspicion they'd always shown him. As if it were some kind of plot that he was being nearly carried by two of his friends up to the infirmary. Draco could see how they would have jumped to that conclusion.

"Shit," he said and pulled away from Blaise. "Let go of me!" He stepped forward as naturally as he could manage, straightening up his robes and scowling at the Gryffindors.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Weasley asked him rudely.

Harry actually looked concerned. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Potter," he spat. "At least I was until I ran into you lot."

"Hey, you ran into us!" Harry bristled. That was better. Draco knew how to deal with that.

"Oh, how mature, Potter. That's the best come-back I've heard all year. I'd clap for you, but I'm afraid I can only do that so many times, and I already wasted them on Longbottom's performances in Potions," Draco said spitefully.

"Are you hurt? You look like you've been-"

"That's none of your concern, Granger. Now would you kindly collect the gaping idiots you like to call 'friends' and take them somewhere else? Perhaps Snape would like them. He could hold potions in their mouths."

"That's uncalled for-" Weasley began.

"Get the fuck out of my way, Weasley." Draco gave them his hardest, most vehement glare. The red-haired boy visibly flinched, then looked as if he didn't know what to do with himself. Granger looked calculating but that didn't often come to anything. Harry...

"Fine. Come on, guys. We'll leave him alone," Harry said exasperatedly. He stared into Draco's face as if he expected to find something there, then turned and walked away with his friends.

Draco practically fell on Millicent when they turned the corner and were out of sight. That had worn him out more than he'd expected. "That felt good," he said. "I haven't been able to do that for a long time."

Blaise took his other arm again and shook his head. "You have a fine way of showing you care about someone."

"If I recall, when it came to the real thing you didn't do much better," Draco replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah. You wore sarcasm like a cloak. Kept saying all these lovely things to her, but they all came out as insults. You're lucky she liked you so much or she wouldn't have bothered to look past it."

Blaise seemed to like this topic. "Who was this girl exactly? You said she was a Ravenclaw..."

"Don't think I'm telling you. It'll ruin it if you see it coming."

"The future sounds so interesting..."

"Interesting? Sure," Draco shrugged. "But not good for all of us."

They all fell silent at that, and the rest of walk up to the infirmary was shadowed.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

It started to occur to Draco that perhaps he wasn't actually dead about half an hour into the 'quiet time' that Pomfrey had prescribed for him. She'd told him he was staying the night in the infirmary, even though the tests she'd run hadn't come up with anything.

Apparently the white light he'd described was what a person experienced when too much magic was channelled through their body. It had unpredictable side effects; one person had woken up with an extra eye, another had regrown a lost leg, someone else had developed telepathy. Draco hadn't paid much attention to her explanation at the time, because he'd been waiting for a demon to come along and condemn him to Hell or wherever else he was supposed to go now.

Blaise and Millicent had been allowed to stay to monitor him, and they'd spent the half-hour talking quietly, presumably so that Draco could sleep. He hadn't needed to. He wasn't tired. This all just seemed like a waste of his time. Shouldn't he be getting judged already?

Unless, the thought finally occurred to him, you're not actually dead.

Which could mean all manner of things. He was having a particularly vivid dream. Astoria had finally snapped and cursed him. He'd somehow fallen into a Pensieve – okay, well that was a bit less likely. He'd gone insane, or maybe he already had been.

Draco stared at his friends sitting at the end of his bed, until Blaise finally looked at him. "That's really disturbing, Draco. You're not developing telepathy, are you?"

"I don't see how that could happen," Millicent scoffed. "He's clearly already-"

Blaise covered her mouth with both of his hands and gave Draco a cheerful smile.

Draco's eyes narrowed.

There was no way this was a dream. It had gone on much longer than it should have by now, and Draco had never been able to control his actions in his dreams. He'd heard of people who could but he'd never personally experienced it. And if Astoria had cursed him, she would have done something far worse than send him to the time in his life when he was happiest. Besides, Lucius would have tried to undo it by now. So that wasn't very likely either.

He didn't keep Pensieves anywhere near the room he last remembered being in as an adult. Even if he had wound up inside of one, he should be observing what was happening and not participating in it. So that hadn't happened. Going insane was far more likely, but Draco's sanity had been fragile for a long time and had only been getting stronger as the years went on, even considering his fire-staring habit. And he'd never heard of this, having a completely coherent view of the world but it simply being the wrong one.

So what happened to him, if he wasn't dead? Now that Draco thought about it, he was too healthy to have died just like that anyway. He hadn't had any known medical conditions, and had certainly been tested enough for them. The Malfoys had to preserve their line.

"Clearly already what?" he asked.

"...darned attractive?" Blaise tried with a hopeful smile.

Millicent grabbed his hands and pushed them away. She made a sound as if she were about to spit, then realised where she was and obviously thought better than to do it. "Don't do that to me again. It makes it worse when I have some idea of where those hands have been, Blaise."

"Clearly already what?" Draco said again, harder.

"I think maybe this is something you need to work out for yourself," Blaise said, his hands stretched out, palms up.

Wow, thanks Blaise. Because I haven't already been fucking trying. "Alright. So, I'm not dead..." he thought aloud, waiting for them to say anything that might help him reach the hypothesis they already had.

They just nodded at him. "Go on," Blaise coaxed.

"And you two're...what, fourth-years?"

"Fifth-years." Blaise sounded vaguely insulted.

"Sorry. You've got to understand that at my age they don't seem that different. So fifth-years, which means you're about fifteen." They just nodded at him again. He was getting bloody tired of that. "Is it 1995?"

"1996, actually. So not fifteen for much longer. Your birthday's in about a month, you've been going on and on about the party..." Blaise rolled his eyes. Draco looked momentarily at Millicent, wondering if Blaise's hands had been so toxic she'd lost the ability to speak.

"So it's 1996," Draco said, to clarify.

"Yes."

"Has my father been arrested yet?"

"What? No!" That seemed to shock Blaise, which was becoming far too easy for Draco to take any joy in. "He gets arrested?"

"And sent to Azkaban. And then he breaks out again." Draco shrugged. This really felt too old to affect him any longer, although at the time it had been devastating.

"I never know if I respect him or not," Blaise admitted.

"None of us do. So what month is it, then?"

"It's late April. The Weasley twins just did their big send-off," Blaise looked thoughtful. "Didn't you say that one of them dies?"

Draco gave him a tired look. "Yes, but don't bother yourself over it. There're a few years yet."

Nothing that happened in this world seemed to have the same degree of gravity it did in his own. He could talk like this, about people dying and 'the future' and yell at Harry and still feel quite good about things. It was nice knowing that he'd been through everything before, so nothing could surprise him now that he-

Draco froze, his eyes widening.

Now that he was back in the past.

For a few moments he couldn't do anything. He just stared a hole into one of the walls as his brain tried frantically to piece everything together. In the past he'd fainted and been replaced by a Draco from the future...

That didn't make sense. But none of this did. Why was he here? How did he get here? That stuff Pomfrey had told him earlier about the effects of too much magic...that must have actually happened. But instead of growing an extra arm, he'd gone back in time.

How had he even been exposed to that much magic? Merlin knew he wasn't capable of it. Maybe Astoria hadn't gone, but Draco couldn't see why she'd bother throwing all her magic at him when it could do something as pointless as give him another eye. If the side-effects were often unexpected, there wasn't any point trying to deliberately do this. It could just as easily have made him a Veela as made him desperately unattractive.

It was a stupid plan for revenge, and as much as he disliked her Draco didn't think Astoria was that stupid. But that meant he had no clue how he had ended up here, in his own fifteen-year-old body.

"I think he's getting it," Blaise whispered just a little too loudly to Millicent.

"Of course I'm fucking getting it!" Draco shouted at him. It didn't matter if Pomfrey came in in a second and ordered them away, right now he was confused and angry. "How do you not get this! It's so ridiculously impossible, that of course it's what happened to me!"

Millicent moved to stand beside him and rub small circles on his back. A couple of months ago she'd announced that she and her husband were expecting their first child. Draco thought about that, and realised how great a mother she would end up being.

But it wasn't enough to distract him. "I'm thirty-seven years old. I shouldn't have to deal with this shit!" he said angrily.

"You should probably know better than to swear all the time, as well," Blaise noted.

"I can swear if I want to, Blaise. That's part of being an adult." Draco glared at him. "And I'm already such a fucked-up person, a bit of fucked-up language isn't going to change much."

"Fine. But don't you see what's going on here? That life you have in the future that you say is so awful – not that I'm doubting that it is – doesn't exist anymore. At least, not right now. You can do it all again, live it all again. You can choose, Draco. You can choose not to cock it up if that's what you want to do."

Draco was silent for a minute, considering that. It was true. If he was in the past he could act to change his future. He could have that life that he'd fantasized about. He could make friends with Harry, and hold onto Blaise and Millicent and everyone else that he used to be close to. He could try to talk with his father, and not join Voldemort, and not be responsible for the Battle of Hogwarts.

Everything would be different. He could be happy.

But Scorpius would never exist.

Despair sank into Draco as he considered that. If he chose to change things too significantly – if he opted to find someone he could love, rather than marrying Astoria for example – his son would never be born. They'd never have those long talks about the merits of Dark and Light spells. They'd never go out for a walk and get their robes torn up and dirty. They'd never say goodbye to each other on Platform 9 ¾. He wouldn't worry himself sick about whether his son was doing okay at Hogwarts or not.

He didn't have to worry about conceiving Scorpius again, because Astoria had fallen pregnant in the typical pureblood way, which involved a number of rites and a significant amount of magic. If he married her again they would have Scorpius. But if he did he would be obligated to stay with her for the rest of the child's life. And that would mean giving up his own chance for love again, and living the way he had before.

"This is such bullshit," Draco said, his voice hoarse from emotion.

Millicent chuckled, continuing to rub his back comfortingly. "I hear you."

"It is pretty warped. I certainly didn't think we'd end up in this situation when you just passed out like that," Blaise said, leaning his crossed arms on Draco's bed. "It was really disturbing to watch, actually. Your eyes just rolled back into your head and your head went back and then your knees bent and you just went down. I thought when people fainted they were meant to fall backwards or something."

Draco laughed, though he didn't know why. He was beginning to cry again, and he brushed a few tears away. "How would I know? I've never seen anyone faint either."

"Really?" Millicent said. "Girls do it all the time. I unwrapped a Chocolate Frog and put it in someone's bed last week and she got in and jumped straight out again, screaming like a loon. Then she just dropped. So we threw a blanket over her and went to sleep."

Blaise and Draco stared at her. "You are going to make a fantastic mother," Draco said, somewhat in awe.

"Oh?" Millicent looked pleased. "Thank you."

"Do I have kids in the future?" Blaise asked suddenly.

"Oh no. You are not starting this again." Draco shook his head. "I told you all that because I thought this wasn't real. I'm not telling you anything else."

He looked disappointed, but let it go. "You'd tell us if it was something we needed to know, though. Right?"

"Of course," Draco said. He didn't know exactly when a situation like that would come up, but while he wasn't going to spoil his friends' futures for them, he was prepared to help.

"I don't think I really want children anyway," Blaise said and moved again, so that his feet were resting on Millicent's abandoned chair. "They seem like a lot of work. Still, if my partner wanted some I wouldn't be too bothered."

"I did," Draco smiled a little sadly. "I wanted several. Astoria wouldn't put up with me for long, though. She hates me more than I hate her. And she never wanted Scorpius."

Blaise didn't seem to know what to say to that, but Millicent spoke instead. "Why not?"

She asked the question gently, and it was clear that she actually wanted to know. It was impossible for Draco to get angry or upset about it. "Astoria married me for my name," he explained. "She made her own choice. She had a lover that she seemed to genuinely care about, but he was a Muggle-born. So she cut off her ties with him and married into the Malfoy family. The name was tainted by then, and Father was just thrilled that someone wanted to take it.

"Astoria viewed it as a problem she could fix. She kept running around throwing parties and donating to charities and trying to present us kindly to the public. It worked, but not well enough to be worthwhile. But by then she was in too far to get out again. So she tried harder than ever to justify her decision and become the perfect Malfoy wife.

"Eventually that meant having a child. We did every ritual we could think of and then a few more, just so we wouldn't have to sleep together more than a few times. She was careful while she was pregnant. But she never formed that bond with Scorpius that I thought all mothers did with their children. She had to put herself aside for nine months, and once she had that was her duty done in Astoria's opinion.

"She never wanted Scorpius, and I don't know if she could have loved him when all he meant to her was sacrifice," Draco finished. He rarely thought about his wife this way. Once, they had at least understood each other.

They were quiet again. "I understand, but I still don't like her," Millicent said slowly.

"That's pretty much how I feel." Draco smiled at her. "But that's... the future, now. Like Blaise said, it's gone. I don't have to marry her if I really don't want to. It'd probably be better for both of us."

"Are you going to chase after Potter?" Blaise asked.

Draco closed his eyes. To have so many choices again was bewildering. If he wanted to pursue Harry, then yes, he could try. It most certainly wouldn't work but he could try. "No," he said. "At least, not romantically. He has his own family, his own life. It's not my place to deprive him of his own children, if I choose to give up mine. But I think," he opened his eyes again. "I think I would like to be friends with him. That might be enough." It will have to be.

"Alright," Blaise said, and that was that. He would help him now. In Slytherin acknowledgement was an offer of support, just as an outright offer of support was an announcement of dislike. It was odd, but it made sense. Draco remembered it, and he smiled at him.

"Gods, thirty-seven. You're so old!" Blaise stretched, pulling his arms out in front of him. "I think my mother might be younger than you."

"That doesn't mean much. Your mother happens to be very efficient," Draco said. The other boy thought over the words, likely trying to decide if he should be defensive or not. In the end he just nodded. It was true, after all. Ms. Zabini had been married seven times by the time Blaise had entered fifth-year. Draco wasn't going to tell him how many more husbands she'd had after that.

"Can I partner with you in Potions?" Millicent asked.

"Why would you want to do that?" Blaise looked suspicious for a moment before the answer struck him. "Oh, you wouldn't! That can't be fair, it has to be cheating!"

"I'd love to, Millicent," Draco said to her. "Blaise, she deserves it for thinking more quickly than you. And cheating is something Slytherins never do, isn't that right Millie?"

"Of course. It goes without saying," she agreed stoically.

For a full hour Blaise didn't stop glaring at him, but as Draco talked and laughed with his friends, he rather thought that the first choice he'd consciously made had been a good one.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Notes - Lots of fun dialogue in this chapter. I quite like writing Slytherins talking to each other, and I've always had a soft spot for Millicent Bulstrode in fanfictions. On the other hand, I find myself really hating Astoria, even though she hasn't really appeared yet. What do you guys think? Leave a review and tell me. :)