A/N: Reviews=love

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter

He was trudging up parts of his past he didn't want to remember. Though, if he were honest, he remembered it all the time. It colored his thoughts and tainted his dreams. He was being haunted, and the presence of the passed could not have been stronger anywhere else as he stood staring up at the looming gates before him. They weren't dark and uninviting, unlike the one's that guarded the Manor, but they were intimidating in their own right.

He let out a breath before placing his hand on where the lock hung. His magic hummed and soon the gates swung open letting him through.

He was delaying it. He knew he was, but despite the pep talk from Hermione this morning (along with other things), he wasn't exactly ready for this. Then again, he may never be. Yet this was progress, he'd never made it this far before.

He slipped into the house, and before he realized it, he'd ended up in the room he'd carved out for himself in the house.

It was an eclectic collection of possessions. Some were what he'd inherited from Snape. Others a collection of things of his mother's and other relatives that he'd managed to spirit away.

"How kind of you to finally visit."

He rolled his eyes before stopping in front of a propped up portrait in the corner.

"Hello Severus." He said, unable to stop the slight grin that spread across his face at the voice's sound.

The portrait of his godfather looked down his nose at him.

"You could go to your portrait at Hogwarts, if you need a change of scenery." Draco drawled. Snape shot him a look that used to strike fear into several unsuspecting first years while he'd been alive.

Snape grumbled to himself about insolent children, as his eyes roamed the room and settled on the portrait not far from Severus. It had been empty the few times he'd been here. Now though, to his surprise, a figure was sitting in his seat, arms crossed, staring at him intently.

Regulus Black.

His light blue eyes were so very nearly gray that it made him wonder if that particular trait ran on both sides of his family tree.

He instinctively stepped toward the portrait.

Regulus lifted a brow.

"You look like him."

He felt his face morph into a sour look that broke through his mask.

"I know." He returned, revolted at how he seemed both resigned and acceptant of the fact. Why wouldn't he be? He saw it every time he passed a mirror. He could not escape his father. He was reflected in his own face.

"Regulus." Snape called from his portrait, and Draco got the impression he was issuing a warning.

He stood straighter. He wasn't about to be beaten down by a portrait.

Regulus seemed to ignore Snape, still focused on him. He examined his face and then his eyes drifted down to his forearm like he could see beneath the shirt he was wearing.

"I see the family business is still going strong." He said with a hint of disdain and something he didn't want to try to decipher.

Draco met the gaze of the portrait, and though Regulus didn't flinch or look away something did change in his expression. He was weary looking down at him.

"It's not like you did any different." Draco said, "Not until the end anyway."

At that, if he wasn't so sure portraits could do no harm in the physical world, he would have stepped quite a few feet back at the expression in his cousin's eyes.

Snape was calling out from behind him to leave it, but somehow he felt compelled to stay. Regulus was still glaring at him, but he watched as the fury drained from his face.

"I realized, nearly too late, that no matter what one believes the cost was too much." Regulus said.

Draco studied his face. "But you didn't change your stance did you? You just realized he was a maniac and your conscious got the better of you."

Regulus said nothing, and if anything it prompted him to continue.

"Why did you do it then?" he felt his anger spark at the portrait.

"Because," he finally spoke soft and slow, "Even if I believed in our status did I think it was worth the blood? Was it worth losing my family?"

That struck him silent, because it was something he understood. It was kinship he craved that he couldn't find; not with Theo, Blaise, or even Pansy. This was coming from someone who'd done it first. Someone who shared his blood.

Regulus looked thoughtfully at him, and Draco resisted the urge to squirm under his gaze. "We aren't better because of our blood, but I suspect you already share my feelings."

"We Blacks, we always draw too quickly and play our hand before it's our turn."

"We survive how we can." he murmured, the words all too familiar but still alien on his tongue.

Regulus nodded. His eyes softened slightly. "You do have a bit of your mother in you." He whispered.

Draco froze, and Regulus's lip quirked slightly up at one side.

"Yes, quite a bit."

He left the room slowly, before he headed outside. He took the long route down through the wilted garden to the stone steps that signaled the beginning of the family plot.

He bit his lip before continuing.

He shivered when he passed the first plot. This was his family, hundreds of years of history could be seen through his ancestors. Good. Bad. Terrible. Yet, it was all his, wasn't it? He was a living dichotomy, someone whose blood went deep into the past and forced him to see into the confines of the future.

He wondered, pausing between his grandparent's headstones, if anyone besides him had ever fully manifested the trait.

He tossed the idea away as he continued. It's not like the knowledge would do him any good now.

Graves don't speak.

He stopped at the last plot and the relatively simple headstone marking its occupant.

Narcissa Malfoy neé Black

He tasted blood from how hard he bit his tongue at reading her name. She deserved more than a simple tombstone and a life cut short. It wasn't fair that when he closed his eyes he could still see her soft blue eyes or hear her laughter and soft humming.

He forced his jaw to loosen and he tore his eyes from her name and downward to the charmed flowers still decorating her grave.

He hesitantly stepped forward noticing that they were covering an epitaph.

He bit his lip and brushed them to the side.

I went to the Moon to make a home in the stars.

He fell to his knees, a sob caught in his throat. He hadn't even noticed it before…Had his father put it in? But how did he know about that…

The sob succeeded in forcing its way out, and he realized with a start that he'd been crying long before that.

"Fuck." He hiccupped, before laughing lightly. "You wouldn't like me talking like that very much would you?" He glanced at the headstone before falling back to sit on the grass. He drew his knees up and wrapped them with his arms.

"I'm sorry I haven't been by." He said softly, "I'm sorry you're there to begin with. I..."

She wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself for a choice she made. Especially a choice, I know, she would have made over and over again for you.

Hermione was right. His mother wouldn't want him to blame himself or apologize for something that was not his to control, and yet…

"I still wish you hadn't done it, and maybe that makes me selfish." He laughed slightly again, "But that's not something new."

He sighed, resting his chin atop his arms.

I'm sorry I had to leave you alone.

"But you did. You did leave me, and I don't care if it makes me the most selfish person in the world, but I'd rather have you here with me than there." He felt more tears drip down his cheek. "I miss you Mum. I miss you so much it stabs me in the chest."

He sighed and drew his knees closer to his chest as he sobbed until he was sure he had no more tears to give.

When he felt confident he could stand without toppling over, he walked. He walked to the Floo room and from there it was to another of his empty flats. He walked and walked until he got to a familiar looking door and knocked.

It flew open and with one look at him, Andromeda quickly drew him inside and pulled him into her arms.

He felt childish, like he was back to being a 5 year old who had been woken by a nightmare. In a way, this was a nightmare. The only difference was that he couldn't wake up.

Andromeda was rubbing his back in large comforting circles and whispering soothing words into his ear.

"I went to her grave." He managed to choke out, and his aunt's arms tightened around him.

"It's alright love." She whispered, "It's alright. You can let it out."

Her fingers brushed through his hair, and he dropped his head into the crook of Andromeda's neck. The tears he thought he didn't have spilled out.

Andromeda wordlessly led them to the couch, and he had a moment of clarity where he wondered where everyone else was before he fell beside her.

She didn't say anything, letting him cry until he was able to catch his breath again. He rolled his sleeve up and wiped his cheeks. Andromeda smiled weakly at him and kissed his temple.

"I'll get us some tea."

He nodded numbly sinking deeper into the sofa. She returned in a moment with a steaming cup that he accepted greedily.

He took a long sip before wrapping his hands around the warmth of the mug.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have come like this. You lost people too…" He trailed off not meeting his aunt's inquisitive gaze. He still wasn't sure what had prompted him to come here, but when Andromeda cleared her throat forcing him to lift his gaze, he knew.

When she looked at him, she looked at him with the very same eyes his mother used too.

"Darling, I've mourned, but you, you haven't." Andromeda let out a long sigh. "Frankly, I wasn't sure you ever would. You never spoke about it, burying it down like it never happened."

He looked down, suddenly very interested in the mug clasped between his hands.

"I just thought I would feel it, like I would know that she was gone somehow."

He let his eyes peek through his lowered lashes and he saw Andromeda regard him curiously. She shook her head after a moment. "I know love." She reached over and placed a hand on his knee and squeezed reassuringly.

"But what made you go visit her now?" She continued.

He felt the corner of his mouth edge up.

"A friend."

Andromeda raised a brow but didn't comment. Though he distinctively got the impression that she knew exactly who this friend was.

He finished his mug and set it down on the table before standing.

Andromeda pursed her lips. "If you'd like, you could stay." She obviously didn't think he should leave in this state.

He shook his head, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. "It's fine. I think I'd like to go and get straight into bed." He rubbed his temples and opened his eyes slowly.

Andromeda nodded once. "That's good. You need the rest." She paused for a moment, "I hope the migraines aren't still troubling you?"

He smiled ruefully. Migraines indeed. Andromeda had been able to put two and two together before he'd even had to tell her about his abilities.

"They're manageable, which reminds me. They're going for Godric's Hollow again."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'll let them know."

He nodded before glancing toward the stairs. "Where's Ted?"

She smiled. "Asleep for his nap, but you're welcome to go up."

She didn't need to even finish the sentence. He was already half way up the stairs. He walked softly to his cousin's room and true to his aunt's word he was asleep.

It was funny. When the little bugger was awake, he couldn't stop playing and altering his appearance, but asleep, his looks relaxed into his natural appearance of soft brown hair like his aunt. He smiled slightly before sitting on the edge of the bed.

The small bundle shifted slightly, and Teddy's eyes fluttered open. They were still unfocused and clouded over with sleep, but somehow he seemed to focus on him.

"Don't be sad Draco." Teddy said slowly putting his small hands on his cheeks.

He sat still, wondering if he hadn't rubbed the tears stains away well enough. Teddy's arm dropped and he closed his eyes.

"Didn't mean to wake you Ted. Go back to sleep." He murmured pressing a chaste kiss to Teddy's temple. The boy murmured something before curling to his side and drawing the sheets closer around his body.

He smiled at the action before he stood and quietly let himself out.

It never failed to shock him how perceptive a 2 year old could be.

When he stumbled back to the flat, she was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the living room with books and her parchment spread around her. She didn't even try to hide them and instead was solely focused on him.

He glanced down at her before dropping to sit beside her.

She smiled slightly, before taking in the parlor of his cheeks that only highlighted the tightness around his eyes. She leaned over and kissed him softly. He responded eagerly, but he seemed withdrawn, like the exhaustion had finally caught up with him.

She put her papers to the side and gently led him to lay his head in her lap. He let out a soft breath when he rested his head on her thigh and immediately starting to draw patterns on her legs with his fingers.

She stroked his hair, and he hummed in appreciation.

"How was it?" She whispered.

"Terrible." He turned to look up at her, "But I'm glad I went."

She nodded and continued combing through his hair as his eyes closed.

"Here I am throwing all this emotional shit at you and I haven't even asked…." He swallowed roughly, "Are your parents ok?"

"Yes," She took a breath suddenly very grateful that Draco had his eyes closed. "Yes. They're safe."

He looked up at her nodding. She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "That book you gave me helped. I was grateful for it when I went to…It didn't take at first, I almost had to cast twice."

Draco frowned, and he seemed to contemplate something, but his thoughts were interrupted by a grimace. She saw his hand come up as though to go to his temple, but she beat him by taking her hands down from his hair to rub the tension from the side of his head.

"Do you need a potion?"

She wasn't sure what response she was expecting, but she'd hoped he'd accept. He shook his head, his hair brushing against her legs.

"Tell me about them." He said instead.

She smiled and she paused her hand motions through his tresses.

"You really want to know?"

He peeked beneath his lashes. "Yes, and keep bloody doing that." He murmured.

She grinned and resumed playing with his hair as she told him about her parents, which led to her childhood. More often than not, he'd stop her with a question or two, and she was surprised at how curious he was about the simple parts of her life rather than the discrepancies of muggle technology to magic.

It felt like she told him everything; from her parents trying for other children and doctors telling them they were lucky to have even conceived her to learning to ride a bike and her first displays of magic.

'Only you would have used magic for the first time to try to reach a book on a shelf." He laughed lightly before wincing and reaching to rub his forehead.

She'd laughed with him and that had led to his story about his first display of magic (flying up to reach for an apple only to get stuck in the tree) and story after story until she'd joined him laying prone on the floor.

His head was buried in her middle as he cradled around her, bringing a smile to her lips. She'd never taken him to be one to cling onto another, not when he had such a restrained and prickly exterior. Oddly enough, she liked that he was full of contradictions, complex. She was never bored.

He was on the verge of sleep, but nowhere near relaxed in her arms.

His head must be killing him.

It had led her to suggest again a pain potion, and she was met with another refusal. Though, he argued, he was already on his way to sleep so it couldn't be so bad. She'd acquiesced, and they'd fallen between the sheets of his bed.

They were lying to face one another, soft breaths on the other's cheeks.

Draco was examining her and in seconds he'd pressed his lips softly against hers. Hungrily, she responded, and they pressed even closer to each other. His tongue asked for entrance and she easily allowed it. Like most times, she fell deeply into the motions, and when they broke away to breathe, she couldn't help feel disappointed.

"Merlin." His forehead settled on hers. His breath came in shaky gasps.

"Draco." Her fingers brushed his cheeks, cradling his face. He forced his eyes open and met her concerned eyes. "Are you ok?"

"You can make it stop, make it quiet." He murmured, brushing his lips over hers again. There was a slight crease in her brow before her eyes widened in understanding. She raised her head to meet his mouth again. "Good." She whispered against his lips.

"I love you."

He said it like a prayer, and she shivered in response to it. Frankly, she was finding, it was no small thing to be loved by him.

"I know." She said pulling away from him and running her nimble hands through his hair, "Gods, I love you too."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he let his head drop to rest on hers.

"Don't forget it." She whispered, near his ear, "Don't forget it, even when it gets loud."