It was only two weeks into summer vacation and already Draco's head was spinning. His only child, Scorpius, had not stopped badgering him since his return home from Hogwarts. After the misleading hugs, declarations of love, stories and so forth, Scorpius had uttered a sentence that Draco knew would never end well.

"Dad… You're the best dad in the whole wide world!"

Draco knew then and there if he did not start running away now, and fast, he was infinitely screwed. Yet, like the "lump of fluffy pygmy puff" that Astoria said he was, deep, deep, deep inside his heart he replied with an unknowing grin,

"What do you want, son?"

"Can we go to a picnic at Rose and Albus' house in three weeks?"

The smile on Draco's face froze. Without a word he stood up and excused himself to go scream his lungs out within the confines of his room.

"What did I do to deserve this? This is all going too fast for me… I don't know if I can take this step yet…" Draco murmured into his pillow, lying face down in the bed as Astoria absentmindedly ran her fingers through his hair. Scorpius did not hear his comments as he was too busy bouncing on the bed like he was still a toddler instead of the twelve year old he now was. Every time the young boy bounced, his white blonde hair flopping in his face, he added another syllable to the now dreaded sentence.

"Please – Dad – Please – Let's – Go – Over! – Please! – I – Love – You!"

"You only say that when you want something," Draco growled. "You have no real love for your father."

"Come on, Dad!" Scorpius howled as he finally flopped onto the king-sized bed, his stomach making a plop on the dark green comforter. "Why are you so stubborn?"

Draco turned to glare at his son.

"I'm stubborn? What about you, boy?"

Astoria sighed and said,

"Alright children, since both of you cannot seem to come to an agreement, and I'm a firm believer in democracy, I shall cast the final vote,"

Both boys whipped their heads to stare at her. Draco's face was incredulous while Scorpius broke into an almost evil grin.

"We shall go to the picnic and have ourselves a merry time."

Scorpius jumped up and gave out a big whoop of joy while Draco groaned in misery. The young boy swooped in, gave his mother a big kiss on the cheek and then ran off to owl his best friends.

"That's not fair," Draco whined. "You always take his side!"

"He's my son, of course I do,"

"I'm your husband!"

"Your point is?"

Draco just heaved another groan.

"You're worse than my mother,"

Astoria giggled.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said softly, kissing Draco's forehead. "As I remember it, no one got in the way between her and her boy."

A week later Draco was walking down the grassy hills to the Burrow, a place he had relentlessly mocked in his school days but had never actually been to. He was dreading it. Not out of any presumption that the house would be anything like how he had insinuated, but that his presence would surely call to mind those insults. Besides, he really did not feel like getting hexed today.

They were over the last hill and Draco saw what seemed to be a multi-storied house, all mismatched and charmed together. There was a large front and back yard, nothing but green space surrounding it. There was a shed off to the side, and as they approached Draco could see a spattering of fiery red heads. He came to a sudden halt.

Wait a minute… Was the whole Weasley clan invited to this thing?

Dear Merlin, his son was going to watch him die.

Astoria looked at him and smiled encouragingly.

"It'll be okay," she whispered.

"You don't know that. You don't know Weasley's like I do, they hold grudges, especially concerning me,"

"Maybe you don't know them as well as you think," she said. "Maybe you need to stop seeing them through the eyes of a schoolboy, and look at them as if it was the first time."

They got to the rickety gate and before Draco could even register anything, all he heard was,

"SCORPIUS!"

A blur of bushy brown hair zoomed past Draco and Astoria to propel herself on his son. Scorpius and the girl fell with a loud oomph, followed by a bout of laughter from the children, giggles from Astoria, and a dumbfounded look from Draco.

"Rosie, you're going to smother him!" Albus was trotting up to them now, wearing muggle jeans and a gray t-shirt.

"Yeah Rose, why so excited, is he your boyfriend?" Came a drawl from the other side of the fence. Albus turned around to glare at a boy with unruly black hair and hazel eyes. Rose and Scorpius got up, Rose sticking her tongue out at the older boy while Scorpius, Draco couldn't help but notice, blushed.

"Don't be a pig-head, James!" Rose exclaimed. "You know Scorpius and I are just friends!"

James tone was light, but his eyes narrowed into threatening slits.

"That's what they always say,"

James turned to Draco and Astoria. Leaping over the gate in a flourish Draco couldn't help but think was exaggerated and cocky, James Potter gave Astoria a bow and stuck out his hand for Draco to take.

"Mr. Malfoy, I presume," he said, as if he really thought he was twenty years older than his fifteen years of age. "If I'm not mistaken, we're slightly distant relatives. Welcome to the family reunion!"

Draco instantly disliked this boy, but took his hand nonetheless.

"Yes, through marriage or something or other," Draco replied evenly, both letting go of each other's hand after the exchange.

James grinned and turned to his young cousin.

"Hear that Rosie? We're related."

Rose just gave a huff, grabbing Scorpius' hand and shoving her cousin aside as she grabbed Albus' wrist in her other free hand.

"Distantly!" she shot back.

Draco eyes James, who continued to stare at the trio. If Draco didn't know any better this boy was trying to… But that was ridiculous.

"What's all the commotion?"

Two fiery redheads were heading up to the group of three now. One was tall and gangly, his head balding and spectacles enlarging his blue eyes. The other was stocky and walked with a lively gait; one of his ears was missing.

Mr. Weasley and George Weasley came to a halt when they discovered whom they had just come to greet. The atmosphere was tense, but James was either oblivious or simply didn't care because he said,

"Grandad! Uncle George! Look what distant relatives came to visit!"

"Well, yes," Mr. Weasley said nervously, glancing from the couple across the fence, his grandson and his own son, who was glaring at Draco with unrestrained loathing. "Um, welcome, Mr, and Mrs. Malfoy."

"Just Draco and Astoria is fine," Astoria said smoothly, taking over with her charm as Draco stood there.

Draco was so unsure of what to do. An old reflex of his was to make a snide remark or insult them, yet he knew things were different now. He was different now, despite the fact that it was still a small, ever-changing difference.

"Well come on inside, all the women of the family are getting lunch ready right now."

"Thank you!" Astoria positively beamed, gliding into the garden, taking up Mr. Weasley's side and said, "Mr. Weasley, you must tell me about these rubber ducks muggles have invented, I find it ever so interesting…"

As he watched Mr. Weasley begin to brighten up and talk animatedly with his wife about the function of a rubber duck, George sidled up to him, leaned in close and said,

"One word from you, Malfoy about my family and I will personally make sure you won't be able to hold food down for 5 months," All of a sudden the man grinned and clapped him on the back. "Got it, ferret?"

Malfoy bristled at the comment but, thinking of his son, took in a huge breath and replied, "Trust me, Weasley, I have no intention of being your newest experiment."

Everything got a little better when they went inside the house. It seemed the women had an instant calming effect on the men that made them relax… or maybe it was fear. Draco honestly couldn't tell.

When he had entered the house he did think to himself it was smaller than what he was used to. Yet at the same time he thought begrudgingly, almost bitterly, that it was filled with a familial warmth his home had utterly lacked growing up. It made him slightly, and he'd never admit it… jealous.

As he moved throughout the house, getting closer to the kitchen his eyes were drawn to a magical clock, with names scrawled across the many hands. He couldn't help notice, with an odd little sting, the name that was firmly placed on "Deceased".

"Oy! Malfoy!"

Draco twisted on his feet to face the Golden trio, in all their glory. Draco could've sworn, for a moment, he saw them as they used to be. Hogwarts robes, faces unmarred by wrinkles, but troubled by thoughts none of them had needed. Yet, they had always managed to laugh. Draco remembered, during his sixth year, hating them for it.

All at once the vision was gone, and he stood looking at two men and a woman in their late thirties, perfectly content with their lives and the wrinkles forming on their faces. Draco couldn't hate them for this though, because he was also happy with his life. For now.

"Honestly, I'm surprised you showed up," Ron commented. "Expected Scorpius, even Astoria, but you… well, I thought you never wanted to step inside my house."

Harry heaved a sigh as Hermione wacked Ron over the head, admonishing him, "Ron! That's no way to act to a guest!"

Ron yelped and rubbed his head, but turned to face her.

"What about when we were guests in his house all those years ago?" he hissed. "We weren't treated so well then, were we? Or have you forgotten?"

Hermione went pale and Harry stepped forward to put on arm on both of their shoulders. Draco was thankful no one else was in the room. The kids were playing in the yard, and everyone else was too busy in the kitchen or setting up tables outside to notice the skeletons being unearthed in the living room.

"Despite what you may think, Weasley," Draco forced out of his mouth, gritting his teeth and trying his best not to act… superior. "I do not think your house is the shanty hole I claimed it was, it's actually quite cozy. And I'm trying my absolute best to push what happened during the War behind me. Not just for me, but for my son. I still don't like you though, if that makes you feel better."

There was a stony silence, as Hermione and Harry gaped at him while Ron puffed out his cheeks. Whether in thought or frustration Draco couldn't tell, until Ron said,

"That does, actually." And with that Ron strolled outside to check on the kids.

"Well, um," Hermione started. "I guess I should say welcome, Malfoy… Oh that sounds rude doesn't it?" she turned to Harry with a puzzled look. "What do we call him now? We can't call him Malfoy in front of the children, sets a bad example…"

Harry snorted. "Only you would care about such things, Hermione," He tweaked her nose and said, "I guess we'll have to call him Draco, at least in front of the kids."

"Excuse me," Draco ground out. "I'm right here you know. Don't I get a say in this?"

Harry let out a small smile.

"No."

The picnic went on rather smoothly, considering that Draco was there at all. Astoria knew all the girls already, and engaged in conversation with such ease that Draco had to stop and admire her. The kids were… well, kids. None of them knew the history behind the two families animosity, not that there was much animosity to begin with. Plus, at the moment, they were being entertained by Teddy Lupin, who was morphing his nose from a pig's, to a duck's to a dragon's fire-breathing snout.

The men were now talking of quidditch and Harry, surprisingly being the most gracious next to Mr. Weasley, asked Draco who he thought would win the next World Cup.

All of the men's eyes were on him while the women, all except for Angelina and Ginny, rolled their eyes.

"Well," Draco said slowly. Why was he feeling so…nervous? Was he nervous? No! Malfoys never get nervous! "Since Britain didn't make it, again, its between Germany and Korea this year, isn't it? To be honest, I hope the Koreans win, the Germans are… well, the Germans."

Ginny, Angelina, and George all let out great hoots of victory. George even jumped up from his seat, ran over to where Draco sat, and clapped him hard on the back.

"Smartest thing you've said, Malfoy!" George exclaimed. "I much rather see the Koreans win than the Germans. The Koreans are tricky flyers, lots of speed!"

"But they always play dirty!" Ron yelled, waving his arms in the air.

"So do the Germans," George said calmly, as if explaining something to a two-year old. "But the Koreans are much better at hiding it. Did you hear that Schweinsteiger just outright pushed Ramirez off his broom when they went against Argentina in the semi-finals? He's lucky all those jinxes missed him, since he's a damn good flyer."

"Which is why they should win," Harry argued.

Draco barked a laugh.

"Hardly a reason for them to win. Now, if you want to talk about good flying, that Jung Youngho is fantastic! Don't know why he's a Beater…"

"Because his arms are bigger than his fat head," Ron drawled.

"You obviously don't know what you're talking about…"

"Actually, Dad," Scorpius chirped. "I think Mr. Weasley is right."

Every red head stared at him.

"Um," Scorpius said. "Mr. Ron Weasley."

Draco gaped as Ron gave an unexpected, triumphant, grin.

"You, my dear fellow, " Ron said. "Should come sit by me, as I give you cake as a reward for your wise words and we try to convince your wayward father how wrong he is."

The whole table laughed and Draco continued to look on, horrified, as his son approached Ron and sat up next to him.

"Earning points, aren't we?" James called, and Rose swiftly punched him in the gut. Her younger brother, Hugo, chuckled.

Astoria and Hermione shared a knowing look. Hermione could swear that tears of joy were welling up in Astoria's eyes.

"There's still a long road ahead," she said. "But I'm so glad we're getting there."

Hermione clasped Astoria's hand tightly in one of her own.

"We certainly are."