DISCLAIMER:I DO NOT OWN ANY RECOGNIZABLE MATERIAL MENTION IN THIS PIC AND SADLY, THAT INCLUDES DRACO *weeps*

a/n: hey guys. I know. I suck at updating, but I've been so busy! Preparing for starting school and all! I'm really really really really sorry!

And for everyone who reviewed, Ramyfan, Elased,Cinarie, Annabeth-Artemis, , MaliceAlice, I'llCatchYouIfYouFall, Ninjaryss, Luce, Despereaux, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU :) yoi guys made me really happy! I'm sorry I can't respond to you individually for now because I'm kind of in a rush, but still, I hope you guys know that your reviews really motivate me with my writing! Thank you!

PRESENT

He walked down the streets of Diagon Alley with a purpose. Most people were gawking-not used to seeing the reclusive (and very much rumored insane) Malfoy heir traipsing through the Wizarding Shopping district-or anywhere, really. Some stared because of his height and obvious masculine beauty. Elegant and cold in a way that made you want to look.

Draco hated it. He hated their stares. Once upon a time, he would have loved being at the center of attention, thrilled at a chance to be praised, but those days were past now. He had changed, in so many subtle and obvious ways that he never bothered to compare. Because at the end of the day, the cause of all those changes was the only thing, the only person, that mattered.

And she was gone.

He waded through the masses, unused to their presence. At the Hospital, the employees were taught to be discreet, he wasn't known as the Most Eligible Bachelor of The Year (stupid Skeeter, didn't she know a thing?) there, but rather, as the Dragon Boss, as he heard the trainees once say. Safe to say that he found it amusing, but didn't do anything to dispel their fear of him. It got the job done, and intimidating the random trainee or two was fun.

Usually, when he needed some things, he would ask his housekeeper, Mrs. Wellis to pick it up for him. But he never let anybody do his shopping for her. Not on this day. Not if the gift was for her.

He glanced at all the stupid valentines decorations, frowning at the festivity in the air. People should be mourning, not celebrating. But at least the sky was agreeing with him. It was another dreary London day, and the weather was as melancholic as he was. Originally, he wanted to get her something from flourish and blotts, but he knew that she wouldn't want a book bought just so no one else could read it. He could almost imagine her huffy voice, angry and annoyed as she would lecture him about the proper gift-giving parameters to someone who's dead.

He chuckled to himself, imagining her hair all wild and her cheeks on fire. He remembered that he used to love riling her up, and thought that at first, it was only because he liked annoying her and riling her up, but no. He loved riling her up because he loved her expressions. Her passion. The fire. The blush that crept up from her neck to her cheeks. Everything. She was mesmerizing. She had been mesmerizing. Everything about her had been intriguing. Deliciously different from all the bland pureblood girls that he grew up wi-

"Ow." A small voice said from below him, stopping his train of thought. He didn't even notice that he bumped into something until the little boy with a mop of blonde curls and pale cheeks tugged at his robe. The little stranger looked up at him, haughty expression evident as he crossed his chubby little arms and glared at him with his cornflower blue eyes. He looked familiar. Something about his paleness and eyes made him seem as if Draco had known his parents. And he probably did, seeing as the little boy's expression was the mark of a Slytherin.

"You bumped into me, Mister." The little boy announced with an accent Draco couldn't place. narrowing his eyes while he struggled to make himself taller, which was not much use. Draco's 6'3 frame towered the average wizard, much less a little five year old boy.

"I'm sorry, little kid," He said politely, crouching down to assess his injuries.

"I am not a little kid." Was his haughty reply. Definitely Slytherin. "Mummy says that I'm a big boy. Her man. Who are you to say that I'm little, if mummy says I'm big?"

Draco chuckled. Impeccable grammar and obvious intelligence to boot. His other parent must have been a Ravenclaw. He stood up, giving the kid a small smile, before saying. "You sure don't sound like one."

"Of course, I don't," the little boy huffed again. "It's because I'm big. Don't you get it, mister? Or do I need to spell out for you?"

Draco bit his lip to stop himself from chortling. Oh, this was gold! He hadn't been this amused since before Hermione's death. He ruffled the little boy's hair, ignoring his insult, before saying, "Excuse my rather slow uptake on the situation. But where are your parents? Aren't they looking around for you?"

The little boy shrugged, his glare fading slightly, "I left Aunt Helena in the clothing store. It was terribly boring, and I wanted to see the brooms."

"Ahh, a Quidditch fan, I see." Draco said, looking around for signs of hysterical aunts. "But I must say that you shouldn't have left your aunt shopping alone. Big men always accompany their respective charges when they're out shopping. No matter how boring it is."

The boy remained silent, looking as if he was contemplating Draco's words. He couldn't help but smile at this.

Draco felt a pang of something akin to regret stab at him. If he had protected her better, she would still have been alive today. They would be together, and probably have a whole armada of little children because they were like rabbits when it came to procreation. He had always wanted children, but the dream was squashed when she died.

He could still remember their conversation about it. They were in the library, studying for their final NEWT exams (actually, Hermione was studying, he was just trying to get her attention) when she turned to look at him, an adorably confused and naive and slightly embarrassed expression dusting her porcelain features. He remembered opening his mouth to comment on her blush, but she beat him with a question.

Would you want children?

He remembered being shocked that she'd asked it. They've never even discussed marriage, let alone children. But he also recalled being so happy, so overwhelmed that she had wanted to give him little buggers that would destroy his sleep cycle. He had been buzzing with joy, loving the fact that she thought that she had a future with him. A future with children. A normal, happy future. Without the strain of war and the strain of prejudice. He remembered her prodding him after his silent moment to say thanks to every deity out there, for giving him a girl that the mere thought of spending a future with sparked a myriad of happy emotions raging through him. He flashed her a big smile, a genuine one, before saying,

Children with you? I'd want a thousand, so you better get ready, beaver, because I'm going to want a whole Quidditch team with you.

"Mr. Stranger, are you alright?" The blonde boy asked again, tugging at his robes.

"Yes," he breathed, shaking his head, trying to dispel his thoughts, "Still here,"

"Right." The boy said haughtily, "You owe me ice cream."

"And why would I owe you ice cream?" Draco said, amusement raising an eyebrow and matching the boy's haughty expression.

"Because you bumped into me."

"I believe that's a good enough reason." Draco said, ruffling the little child's hair, "But won't your Aunt be looking for you?"

"She will, but I already left her, might as well make the most of it." Was his reply, then he seized Draco's hand and the older blonde couldn't help but feel a sense of longing. He could have had a child like this one, or maybe a dozen little copies of him and Hermione, running around and leading him off to various ice cream shops.

"But isn't it too cold for ice cream?"

"It's never too cold for ice cream." The boy said firmly, gazing at him pleadingly. Odd that this child trusted him that much. He must have never been taught to fear strangers.

He laughed as he followed the boy towards Florean Fortesque's. They ordered their respective ice cream cones and sat on one of the tables. In the next fifteen minutes, the boy prattled on and on, and Draco learned that his name was Kyle. He grew up with his mum and his little sister in Australia and got bitten by a pygmy puff once. Kyle was in the midst of recounting his unfortunate accident involving his lizard, Newton, and a pair of green pyjamas when a woman much too young to be his mother appeared, looking relieved and annoyed.

"Kyle, you little bugger! I was so worried! Didn't I tell you to stay put?" The blonde said, glaring at the little boy, "You're mum's going to behead me!"

"What mummy doesn't know wouldn't hurt her, you know." Kyle answered, giving the girl a disinterested look as he licked his ice cream. Draco snorted, but the girl still ignored his presence, focused on her nephew.

"You wouldn't tell, wouldn't you?" The girl asked, acting very suspicious.

"I won't," Kyle said, staring straight at his aunt, "But only if you buy me chocolates."

"Deal." The girl said, sighing loudly. "I'll get you some from Wisteria's later."

"No. I want ones from Honeydukes!"

"But those are expensive!"

"That's why I want them." Kyle replied, "They taste better, too."

"You're impossible."

"But at least I won't be the one that mummy beheads."

"Fine, you little brat. This is the exact reason why I like looking after your sister more!" The brunette grumbled, at this, Draco couldn't help but laugh. This kid really was gold.

The girl spun around, noticing him for the first time. "Sir! I didn't see you right there!"

"He's nice, Aunt Helena! He bought me ice cream!" Kyle piped up as Draco repressed chuckling from the girl's horror-stricken expression.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry! He made you buy him ice cream!" Helena squeaked, then she turned to glare at Kyle. "He's the third one this month! You're mother is so going to skin me alive."

"It's fine," Draco chuckled. "I don't mind."

"This is so embarrassing," Helena stammered, reaching for her purse, "Let me pay you back,"

"No, it's okay," Draco said, finishing off his cone as he stood up. He gave Kyle a wink, before saying, "The little tyke's made me laugh more in the past half hour than I had in the past year, I should be the one thanking him."

"I'm not little," Kyle said, frowning at him. And Helena looked even more embarrassed.

Draco laughed, and ruffled the kid's blonde locks again, saying, "Whatever you say," he turned to Helena and said his goodbyes, turning for one last wave at Kyle before exiting the shop.

He set off again, feeling more refreshed. Was this what it felt like, to have a child? He had never allowed himself to imagine having one, preferring to settle on wishing for Hermione. Spending the rest of his life with her was already too much to ask, much less having to dream of children. He couldn't help but feel the familiar longing lodge into his mind, and he was reminded of why he was here in the first place.

Scanning the shops, he contemplated on what item to give her this year.

During the first year, he had charmed a stargazer lily to never wilt, and planted it around her grave, making it take root and grow into scented clumps at the top of the hill, surrounding her headstone with its heady sweet scent. She would have loved it, having her favorite flower around her. She always had an obsession with it, and he had never understood why. But she loved it, and who was he to bereft her of the things that she loved? Even if her death took away from him the only person that he had deemed worth more than anything else.

On her second death anniversary, he brought her a sapling from the Whomping willow, and with a little bit of potion, made the tiny little thing grow over her grave. She had always been fond of that tree, and he wanted her to have a reminder of Hogwarts near her. He couldn't have the whole lake plus the giant squid transported near her (the Ministry refused to sell it, even when he offered his fortune) and the people from the Department of Misuse of Magical artifacts absolutely forbid him from filling the whole place with the magical candles that lit the Great Hall. It was Potter, actually, who suggested the whomping willow. The two of them came to Hogwarts a day prior to her anniversary and Potter talked with Longbottom. The next day, he was armed with a sapling and the secret of taming it's ridiculously dangerous tree limbs. It stood with her grave and army of stargazer lilies, branches swinging in every direction and protecting the place with a ferocity that matched its mother tree.

On the third year, he gave her a lake. The Giant squid had given birth, and its offspring had been of the cannibal variety, much unlike its mother, so the merpeople had no choice but to kill the little squids, save for one that the Ministry managed to save. When he heard, he gave the idiot who refused him the sale from last year (Cormac 'I have balls for Brains' Mclaggen) a very smug smirk and promptly bought the little baby bundle of teeth. He bribed some of the people form the Department of the Control Magical Creatures to authorize a creation of a lake, bought the surrounding land and voila! A lake a quarter of the size of Hogwarts was made. He knew that she would have thought of him crazy, to go to such lengths to secure her a lake, of all things, but her grave site looked much more like hogwarts,with the willow and the forest and the lake together, it looked like home. The least he could do after failing her so profoundly was to make sure that her final resting place at the very least look like the place that she had called home.

On the fourth year, he wanted to build her a castle, but Blaise stopped him from commissioning the plans, saying that all the extravagance would have gave Hermione a heart attack, if she was still alive. Draco conceded, grudgingly agreeing to his Italian friend. So he put away the plans and started to brainstorm for another gift. Something simple this time, but something that she would have liked. In the end, he settled to give her a locket. A simple trinket, really, but it was one that he had bought himself during one of his family trips to Greece. It was simple and lovely and he had vowed to give it to the woman that he wanted to be his wife. It seemed fitting that he bury it with her, along with the sentiment of his proposal.

On the fifth year, he was almost out of ideas. Don't get him wrong, he knew what she did and did not want, but all of them were extravagant, and Blaise and the female weasley was keeping him on a stupidly tight leash. Even until now, he never could understand why he couldn't buy a dragon to guard the surrounding area, since it would remind her of him, right? And she would have company. He settled for a replica, instead. But Kingsley blew off his top hat at him and shouted at him for what felt like years, restricting him from buying and putting anything large and extravagant on or anywhere near Hermione Granger's grave.

Stupid, paranoid Ministry. It wasn't his fault that the replica dragon could really breath fire and had almost murdered Rita Skeeter when she tried to get in the area.

Really, the replica dragon would have done them a favor if it had burned the bitch to a crisp.

Hmmm... Maybe this year, he could kill Skeeter for Hermione.

She'd like that.

But her morals would probably eat him alive if he so much as touched the idiotic blonde bimbo in Hermione's name.

Damn.

He cursed silently, frowning as he looked around the shops. What should he bring her this year? He entered a shop filled with antique things, and, just as he entered it, he bumped into another little figure, this time, it had raven hair.

The little girl looked up at him, saw his expression, and proceeded to cry like all annoying little children do. Merlin, people were going to think that he was cursing the little annoying brat, or something. What is it with today? This was the second child in as much hours.

Quickly, he scooped her up awkwardly and proceeded to rub her back, trying to stop the little she banshee from permanently damaging his eardrums.

"Stella dear," an elderly woman gasped as she headed towards Draco, holding her arms out for the little girl. Draco thankfully handed her the tiny siren, trying to get the ringing out of his ears. "I'm really sorry, sir, she's quite emotional."

"I've heard," Draco remarked dryly, stopping himself from frowning. It wasn't the woman's fault.

"Stella, please stop crying, love." The woman cooed, blocking Draco from entering the shop. He stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do, eventually, the little girl stopped crying, and she looked up at Draco. Instantly, he was floored. Her eyes were large and blue and absolutely-dare he say it- adorable. Her lashes were long and dark, and she looked like an angel. He had an urge to protect her and his sudden irritation faded away. Damn. What was wrong with him, suddenly liking children? He hated the little buggers. The only ones he deemed acceptable were his offspring with Granger, and they didn't even exist.

He must be getting broody, if that was even possible.

"I'm sowwy," the girl said quietly. "I was surpwised, I hate being surpwised."

"It's fine, love." He said, giving her a smile which she returned shyly.

"I really am sorry, sir." The elderly woman said, "She's always been jumpy, and she hates shopping, but it's either that, or leave her at the orphanage with all the other kids. They're already short staffed as it is. Little Stella's going to get picked on by the other kids for sure."

"Orphanage?" He asked, curious. He'd never even heard of a magical orphanage before. Usually, witches and wizards intermarried so much that every one had a gaggle of relatives. It was rare for wizarding children to be truly orphaned.

"Oh, dear me, telling you about my problems when we've just met." The woman said, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm currently volunteering for the Wizarding Orphanage that the Ministry commissioned after the war. I'm an old soul, and have no family, so I like keeping these little buggers company. But the funding's kind of low, since there are only about twenty little kids there. Of course the old idiots at the ministry doesn't think of it as a priority, so the staff are all volunteers and my, I'm babbling."

"It's fine." Draco mumbled. He smiled at the pair again, and took out a few galleons. "Here, as my sorry token. Go buy yourself an ice cream, little miss, since I've heard that that's the proper thing to do after being bumped into by a complete stranger."

The woman started to refuse, but Draco just shook his head and insisted that it was his pleasure to do so. Eventually, the pair left and he was alone in the shop. The gears in his head started turning. He'd been assaulted and extorted by children all day, whilst looking for Hermione's present. Maybe it was a sign?

Of course, Draco didn't believe in signs. But when it came to Hermione, he was willing to believe in anything.

So it was decided. He apparated with a pop and appeared at his office, calling Andy and bringing out the floor plans for the castle that he had originally wanted to build. He knew that this would someday be useful. He proceeded to make plans, call people, and generally dump everything that was needed to get the legal approval of this scheme to Andy, who had looked at him weirdly but shut up as he gave her an evil glare.

He smirked, he was going to get her a castle after all. But he was sure that she wouldn't have found it too extravagant, considering the very Samaritan cause That required the said castle's existence. Even Blaise couldn't put a damper on this year's present.

For the sixth year, he'd get her an Orphanage.

A/n: So, I've asked you guys to vote for the person-who-gets-to-storytell-how-Draco-coped-with-losing-Hermione-chapter(check previous chapter for deets), and so far, these are the results.

THEO-4

BLAISE/LUNA-3

HARRY/GINNY-2

NARCISSA-2

It could still change though, so pm or review your votes! :)