Draco offered to get Severus ready for bed while Ginny helped clear the table and do the dishes. Daisy was insulted by the offer to help. "Missus does not think Daisy does a good job? Missus upset with Daisy's work?"

"No. Of course not, Daisy," Ginny said kindly. "I only wanted to show our appreciation for all that you do around the house. I thought you might enjoy a night off from work."

"Oh, no!" Daisy squeaked as she reached up to snatch the dirty plate out of Ginny's hands. Ginny half expected the house elf to hold it protectively to her chest. "Daisy would not know what to do. Daisy loves her work. Daisy does not want to bother her Missus."

"Daisy, it's no trouble," Ginny insisted, returning to the table to take the dirty plate from Severus's spot. Daisy squeaked once more as Ginny picked it up. Before Ginny could take a step in the direction of the kitchen, Daisy was by her side, frantically trying to grab the plate out of her hand once more.

"Missus!" Daisy exclaimed, aghast. "Please let Daisy do her work. Missus should be spending time with Master and little Master. Daisy does not need Missus's help. Daisy does not want Missus's help." She said this last line with more gusto than her previous attempts.

Ginny almost laughed as her brain recalled the word S.P.E.W. Oh, she had a story to tell Hermione the next time she saw her. "Thank you, Daisy," she said, surrendering the plate before it could be knocked accidentally from her hands. She hoped the three words conveyed all she felt.

When Ginny joined Draco and Severus shortly thereafter, they were already deep into a story. She paused in the open doorway, taking in the sight. She couldn't remember the last time Draco had been home before Severus went to sleep. It had been ages, and she had missed the sight before her now. While Ginny tried her best, she would never be the kind of storyteller Draco was. He had different voices for every single character, and he exaggerated every line, much to Severus's delight. He even added motions and, on special occasions, magic.

They were reading Severus's favorite book, Stumpy the Red-Tailed Dragon. Ginny had found an old Muggle version among her father's gadgets in the Weasley house. While the Muggle versions took much more work than their magical counterparts that did everything but read the narration for you, and for a price some of them even did that, they were so much more fun with Severus. He laid in bed, snuggled in the crook of his father's arm, held in awe and fascination as Draco told him the story for the hundredth time.

Though Draco cursed everything Muggle, Ginny knew he enjoyed these books more as well. It made him a superhero in his son's eyes. As she took in the sight from the doorway, she knew that he'd already accomplished what he'd hoped to do. He was already a better father than his own could have ever hoped to be. He'd already made up for the sins of his past through his heir, even if Severus got into more than his own fair share of trouble himself. It was a sight that filled her heart with warmth and hope. Maybe better days did lie ahead. Maybe every road did not lead to fights and angry words each night. Maybe there was a way to fix everything that had gone sideways as of late. Maybe they'd already started.

"Mama!" Severus said with excitement, causing Draco to pause midsentence. It was important, when Severus broke through the storytelling. It was, in fact, the only portion of his day where he sat completely still and silent. He became part of the story, and he never ruined it with his inability to focus on a single train of thought. During story time, his only role was to listen. "Mama!" he called again, impatiently. "Come on! Papa's waiting!"

"Okay, okay," she said with a smile as she entered the room. Severus kicked down the sheets to let her in, and she sandwiched herself into what little space remained in the over occupied bed. Draco shifted his arm from around Severus as she joined them to prevent it from getting pinned between them. As she settled in on Severus's other side, Draco's arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"Now where were we?" Draco asked Severus while he looked to his wife. She smiled again as she leaned into her son and rested her cheek on the top of his head.

"The dragon just escaped his chains!" Severus said, his words rushing together with excitement as he pointed to the picture above the text.

"Ah, yes," Draco said, his voice already altering into his narrator's persona. Ginny snuggled in, just as transfixed by Draco's reading as her son was. The story was almost over, but story time was not. As soon as he turned the final page and closed the book, Severus scrambled to crawl out of the bed from between them.

"Another!" he yelled as he raced around the room and began shuffling through the various shelves of his overflowing bookcases.

"One more," Draco conceded.

"Five!" Severus countered, already pulling his third selection from the shelves.

"One," Draco repeated.

"Ten!" Severus insisted instead.

Draco turned to give Ginny a look.

"What?" she laughed, leaning her head against his arm as she faced him. "He gets that from you."

"One!" Draco said again towards his son's back as Severus frantically scanned the shelves for yet another book. Turning his attention to Ginny, he added in a softer voice, "No, that is definitely a Weasley trait, through and through."

"Mama!" Severus complained in exasperation, collecting his books in his arms and shuffling back to the bed. He had to dump them on the mattress before he could clamber his way back up.

"If your father says one, than it's one."

It was, however, five as Severus first predicted. At the end of every book, Draco announced bed time. And after bed time was announced, Severus managed to finagle his way into getting another story read. By the end of the fifth, he was fast asleep, droll already pooling in the corner of his mouth.

"Ungrateful prat," Draco complained as he slowly and methodically tried to untangle himself without stirring his son. "Throws a huge tantrum for book five and then doesn't even have the decency to stay awake until the end."

Ginny returned the look he'd given her earlier.

"Oh, I do not!" he whispered loudly in protest of her judgmental glance as she began a similar process of sliding out of the bed. Once free, Draco readjusted the sheets and pulled them up to his son's chest. He hand hovered for a moment, pressed lightly into his small chest, feeling the gentle and steady heartbeat beneath.

"Come on," Ginny whispered. After placing the books on the nightstand, she gently took his other hand in hers and guided him toward the door. Flicking off the light, she pulled him into the hall and quietly shut the door.

As it shut, Draco rested his forehead against it. "I've missed a lot lately," he said somberly. "Everything. He's growing up faster than possible." Turning his head, he faced her. "Are you sure George hasn't been slipping him an aging potion when you aren't looking at the shop?"

"He's still young. And he has a lot ahead of him. You'll be there," she said firmly, wanting so desperately to believe it true. "You'll see it, just like tonight." Her hand found his cheek. He pulled away from the door to lean into her touch. "Thank you," she told him sincerely.

"It wasn't anything," he said, brushing it off, though she knew he knew she wasn't just talking about the books.

Catching his face between both hands, she drew him closer. Her eyes searched his, and she found him staring back into the pools of her own. "Thank you," she told him again, emphasizing each word strongly.

"Missus," the squeak and the tug at her pants leg startled her. She had not heard Daisy approaching at all. "Would you and Master care for evening tea?"

"Not now," they spoke in unison, their eyes never straying from each other. He didn't wait to see if the house elf left or not. In one fluid motion, he lifted her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he strode purposefully the few doors down the hallway to their bedroom. By the time he lowered her back onto the bed, they were a frenzied mess of limbs and joints.

She caught his lip and dragged her teeth down it, biting as she reached the curve at the end. He grunted in response, his cold hands shoving up beneath the fabric of her shirt and trying in vain to drag her bra down without removing her shirt.

She couldn't help but laugh against him at his sudden impatience. The previous night have been quick and almost emotionless. It had been an action to fulfill a need and fill a void. There had been no passion or lust, no buildup to the climax. It simply had been. But this was different. Ginny felt herself awoken for the first time in ages, and feelings registered that she had almost forgotten. As he pulled away to tear at her shirt, his blond locks falling across his face, she could tell that he was looking at her and not just through her. He was there, in the moment, with her.

"Relax," she said with a laugh. Arching her back, she lifted herself up from her midsection to her head to give him the space needed to pull her shirt up over her head instead of trying to ripe it off in place. He discarded the garment quickly, then turned his attention directly to her pants. She caught his hands and pulled him down to her, stretching her hands out over her head and tangling her fingers with his.

"Weasley," he protested, elongating the word with a whine befitting his son as he buried his head against her neck and bit at the soft skin in retribution for his lip.

And then, just like that, they found the rhythm they'd been missing for the past few months. And as the desire built within her, Ginny couldn't help but believe that they would find their way back to that place; the one where they belonged.