The sharp crack of their Apparation was still echoing across the fields as they landed. The March afternoon was warm, a gentle breeze swirling around them as they stood at the top of a hill, looking down on the sprawling cottage that was the Burrow. He looked down beside him, and his heart swelled at the look on her face as she took in the place that had been a safe haven for her for many years. She turned to smile at him, her eyes dancing with excitement. The skirt of her light blue sundress swayed in the wind, and her curls were lifting and twisting around her face. He reached out and tenderly tucked some of her hair behind her ear.

'I love you.' The words had fallen from him naturally, in this moment of seeing her so relaxed, so at home. She looked a little surprised, but smiled and wound her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face into his chest before tipping her head back and treating him to a dazzling smile.

'I love you,' she replied, and he dipped to kiss her softly, lingering on her lips before pulling away. She laughed at whatever she saw in his eyes and took his hand, confidently leading him down the hill, evidently taking a well-worn path towards the many-times-expanded house. Her fingers wound into his and she breathed in the air, sighing contentedly.

'Are you really sure that they don't mind having me?' he asked for the tenth time that day. She just rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow as they crossed a grassy meadow.

'You saw Molly's letter, you were most definitely invited. And besides, if we're going to have dinner with your mother next week, then we need a bit of practice at being a couple when around family.' Hermione led them around the side of the building, past beautifully manicured flower beds and under a long washing line that was currently full of socks and shirts of varying colours and sizes. Before he could say anything more, a pair of long, freckled arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her away from him.

'Hey, little sister!' Hermione laughed and beat at the chest of the lanky ginger man that was now swinging her around, gasping at him to put her down. Finally he did, chuckling fondly, then looked up and grinned at Draco. 'Nice of you to join us, Malfoy. Mind where you step though, we're out in the countryside here. No-one to wipe your boots if you step in something unpleasant.'

'George,' Hermione said warningly, digging her finger into the man's ribs, but her eyes were warm.

'Joking, joking,' he said, raising his hands in mock surrender before slinging a casual arm around Hermione's shoulders. He started to walk her towards the house, shouting over his shoulder, 'I'll have her back soon, Malfoy. We have an urgent product development meeting to hold that cannot possibly wait any longer. I promise to return her completely unscathed!'

Draco could hear Hermione trying to protest, but the red-head talked over her easily, sweeping her into the house through the open cottage door and out of his sight. He stood nervously for a moment, unsure of what to do with himself.

'Malfoy!' His head whipped up at the call, and he watched as four broomsticks came quickly into view. Three were occupied by more red-heads, and one held a brunette. He walked to meet them as they landed about 30 feet from the Burrow, surprised when he felt himself relax at the sight of Harry Potter.

'Glad you could make it,' Harry smiled, sticking out his right hand. Without hesitation, Draco extended his own hand and shook, noticing the sweaty skin, flushed faces and dishevelled clothing.

'Good game, I take it?' he asked.

'Only because I was here to actually provide a challenge,' Ginevra quipped, stepping up to take Harry's hand in hers. She led him past Draco, pausing to lean up on tiptoes and brush a brief kiss against Draco's cheek. He smiled at her as she pulled the clearly love-sick Boy Who Lived away and towards the house.

'It's not a challenge if you're just using dirty tactics, Gin!' The oldest of the party smiled at him and stuck out his own hand. 'Nice to see you, Draco. I'm Bill Weasley. I believe we may have met before but I feel that these are much more favourable circumstances.'

'I certainly hope so.' Draco grasped the large, rough palm and shook it, carefully taking in the man's scarred face, the slightly sharper canines. He remembered hearing about Bill's run-in with Greyback, and was impressed by how well the man looked with the date being so close to a full moon. 'Although with your youngest brother's opinion of me still undecided, who knows how this weekend could turn out?'

'Sod off, Malfoy,' Ron said, but there was a grin on his mud-splattered face and he slapped Draco roughly on the back as they all turned and made their way back towards the house. 'Where is 'Mione, anyway?'

'I believe that George had some business he wanted to discuss with her.' He caught the look that passed between the brothers, and raised an eyebrow. 'Should I be concerned?'

'Not at all.' Bill's voice was light, but his face was a little saddened. 'We've just been a bit, ah, worried about Georgie recently. He's been throwing himself into his work and, well, we don't really know how to tell him to slow things down.' Draco was surprised by how readily he had been included in this discussion of family affairs, but nodded solemly in understanding.

'If anyone can reel him in, it'll be her,' Ron said confidently. He turned to Draco with a glint in his eye. 'But if you do hear any explosions, his room is on the second floor of the house.'

'Noted,' said Draco, making his tone purposefully tight and concerned, and the brothers laughed. They caught up with Harry and Ginevra, and they all squeezed through the doorway that Hermione and George had disappeared through earlier. They stood in a wide stone porch, sharing a few more good-natured insults regarding the state of play of the Qudditch match, when they were all immediately silenced by a shout.

'Freeze!' Everyone literally froze in position, and Draco looked around him, puzzled. From a doorway to the left came a bustling blur of red hair and apron strings, and Molly Weasley pulled up in front of them, hands on hips. 'You can take those muddy boots off right there, the lot of you. Don't be treading that into the house!'

'Mum,' Ron groaned, sounding for all the world like that 11-year-old boy Draco had first met over 7 years ago. 'We know - '

'Then get on with it!' she snapped, then in a flash her face changed and she smiled warmly at Draco. 'Hello, Draco, dear. It's good to see you. Where is Hermione?'

'George has her, Mum,' he heard Bill murmer from beside him as the tall man bent double to pull his boot laces open.

'Oh, that boy,' she sighed, rolling her eyes, but Draco saw the pain that she was carefully hiding behind the exasperation. 'Well, if anyone can set him straight, it'll be Hermione.' Ron gave Draco a knowing look as he passed him, trudging after Harry and Ginevra who were already at the stairs. 'Don't take too long in that shower, Ronald!' Molly shouted after him. 'We'll be eating shortly.'

'Yeah, yeah,' he grunted back, and Bill stooped to kiss his mother's cheek quickly as he passed and followed his youngest brother into the higher levels of the house. Then all was quiet again, with just Draco left to face Molly.

'Thank you for inviting me, Mrs Weasley,' he said, smiling nervously at the woman who was now surveying him. She smiled back.

'Please, dear, call me Molly. Can I get you something to drink?' She turned and went back through the doorway she'd come out of earlier, and Draco followed her into a large, bright, slightly cluttered kitchen. The place was obviously the heart of this home, and he took in the details of the large, worn kitchen table, the mis-matched cups and plates laid out on the side, and the delicious smells that he was sure hung in the air constantly, even when nothing was cooking.

'No, thank you. Hermione and I brought a couple of bottles of Muggle wine for us all, but I'm afraid that she has them in her bag.'

'Ooh, Muggle wine, you say?' Draco turned his head as yet another red-haired man joined them in the kitchen, although this head was speckled through with grey. Arthur Weasley smiled at his wife, then held out his hand to Draco. 'Good to see you, lad. Did you know that in some Muggle cultures, they crush the grapes with their feet in order to make wine?'

'So I've been told, Sir,' Draco replied, shaking Arthur's hand firmly. Arthur got a slightly far away look in his eye as he kept shaking.

'Fascinating, isn't it?' After a while Molly cleared her throat, and he seemed to come back to himself, and dropped Draco's hand with a wink. 'I'm sure it'll be delicious. Would you care to join me in the living room while we wait for the others?'

'Thank you.' Draco didn't miss the look that passed between the older couple, and his stomach tightened slightly with nerves. He concentrated on keeping his breathing regular and his face calm, as he followed Arthur into a cosy sitting room.

The sofas were clearly well-loved, but very comfortable, and the walls and surfaces were covered with pictures. Pictures of all of the Weasleys together in varying holiday destinations; pictures of the Weasleys with Harry and Hermione at various ages; pictures of a young Molly and Arthur, arms around each other and just as in love as they seemed to be today. And on one table, alone and to the side, a large framed picture of a grinning, lanky, red-haired boy, the mirror of the one who had swept Hermione away earlier. Draco's heart tightened as he watched Fred Weasley smile and wink at him from his portrait.

He tore his eyes away and his gaze fell on a Grandfather clock against one wall. He could see that each hand had a small picture of one of the Weasley family on it. Most of the hands pointed to 'Home', and he smiled to himself when amongst them he spotted small renditions of Hermione and Harry. A couple of months ago, he would have queried this family's seemingly mad mission to accept two total strangers so readily into what was an already very stretched household. Now, after seeing how they treated her and Harry, he understood that there had been no question in the matter. The only two brunettes in this house belonged here, just as much as every single freckled ginger child did.

'Sit down, lad.' Arthur's voice was soft, and Draco realised he had been staring around the room long enough for Arthur to have sat down in an armchair that was so clearly loved, so well-stuffed and so carefully positioned that it almost screamed 'Dad's Chair.' He indicated the sofa opposite him, and Draco sank onto it, perching carefully near the edge.

They spoke for a while about Draco's studies, how he was finding the preparations for the upcoming NEWTs, and his plans for after graduation. Draco shared his intentions to become a Healer, and Arthur seemed impressed by his ambitions. In turn, Draco asked Arthur about the developments of the Muggle Relations department within the Ministry, which he now headed, and Arthur lost himself for a while in his excitement at being able to discuss all things Muggle related. After a while, a silence fell between them that wasn't entirely uncomfortable.

'I'm sorry to have to do this,' the man finally said, smiling apologetically at him as he crossed one leg over the other and settled back in his chair. 'But in light of recent circumstances, I feel it's necessary that we have this chat.'

'Sir?' The man was looking at him levelly, and it was filling Draco with apprehension.

'I'd like to know what your intentions are with our girl.' Draco felt his face flush, and clasped his hands together tightly, willing his leg not to bounce. 'It may seem a little old fashioned, but we're quite, well, protective of our own in this house. We like to know that our children are safe, and if there's any reason for us to step in then we don't hesitate.' He raised an eyebrow at Draco to infer the meaning behind his comment, but there was no malice in his tone, no aggression in his body language. Draco relaxed, understanding the man's concern.

'Please believe me, Sir, I have nothing but the best of intentions when it comes to Hermione.' He looked the man in the eye, feeling more confident as the truth flowed from him easily. 'I love her. She astounds me every day, even though I feel like I couldn't possibly know anyone better than I know her. I wish to protect her, too, and would go to the ends of the Earth to do so, if that's what was required. I ask for your blessing, but please know that even without it, the only thing that would stop me from being by her side is if she voluntarily sent me away. And even then, she would have a fight on her hands to get rid of me. I'm absolutely besotted with her, and I have no desire for that to change.'

The man studied his face for a long time, then his twinkling eyes raised to look over Draco's shoulder, behind him. 'Well, Love?'

'I believe him.' A warm, soft hand descended onto his shoulder, and Draco looked up into Molly's deep blue eyes. She had a small smile on her lips, but her gaze was slightly sad. 'You've come from a very ... interesting background, Draco. And you know of the conflicts that our families have had in the past. But, none of that was your doing, and I want to trust you.' Her eyes hardened slightly, her grip a little tighter on his shoulder, and Draco instantly understood where the power lay in the Weasley parenting team. 'Please don't make me regret that.'

'I will do everything in my power to earn it,' he replied, bowing his head slightly in reverance to the matriarch. She smiled, and her hand patted his shoulder gently.

'And woe betide you if you do upset our girl,' she added, chuckling to herself. 'I dread to think what she would do to you.'

'You know, that's just what Harry said, too.' He smiled at Molly, hoping to convey that he was genuine in his affections, and she scanned his face briefly before nodding.

'Right. Well, come on then, you can help me bring things outside for lunch.' With a final nod to Arthur, Draco stood and followed Molly back into the kitchen. She indicated a large number of platters that now covered the kitchen table, and Draco took in the vast array of food in front of him. With all of the meats, cheeses, pastries, breads, desserts, dips and spreads, he realised that Molly Weasley's skill in the kitchen could easily rival the efforts of all of the house elves at Hogwarts.

He pulled out his wand and waved it over the plates, and each dish slowly rose and began to float out of the kitchen in an orderly fashion. As he watched to make sure nothing fell or was damaged, a still dishevelled but now clean Ron lumbered in through the door, neatly ducking the stream of food filing out the back door.

'Anything I can do, Mum?' he asked, raising his hand and reaching for a platter of homemade pumpkin pasties as it floated past him.

'You can show Draco where we need the food laying out on the tables outside,' Molly replied, deftly slapping the back of Ron's hand as she swept past him to gather an armful of tablecloths. Draco bit back a grin as Ron scowled at her back but quickly changed his expression when she turned to press the sheets into his arms. She made shoo-ing gestures, and Draco and Ron followed the trail of food outside, into the expansive and well-kept garden.

'C'mon.' Ron grabbed a pasty as he made his way towards two long picnic tables, shoving the food quickly into his mouth.

'Bold move, Weasley,' Draco commented dryly.

'What she doesn't know won't hurt her,' came the muffled reply before the red-head swallowed and added, 'so don't go ratting on me, Malfoy.'

'I have no desire to witness a murder today,' Draco smirked, and Ron chuckled as he passed him a cloth to throw over the top of one of the tables. They arranged them quickly, and Draco waved his wand once more to lower the plates to the surfaces. They both stepped back to survey their work. 'Your mother is an excellent woman,' he commented, admiring the spread and thinking back to her words. He looked at Ron to find the man watching him curiously.

'You know, you might actually be alright, Malfoy.'

'That was very nearly a compliment, Weasley.' Ron laughed loudly and turned back towards the Burrow, raising his hand to flip Draco the bird behind him as he went. Draco couldn't help the genuine smile that pulled at his lips as he watched him go.

Suddenly a small hand slipped into his, and he looked down. Hermione stood beside him, smiling.

'Finally getting on, are we?' Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and he had to grin back. Draco turned and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. He raised the hand he still held and looked at her inky fingers with a raised eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. 'Apparently self-correcting ink is a more cost-effective product line than the parchment.'

'Of course,' he nodded, his face serious. She giggled as he kissed her blue fingers, then he looked at her again. 'How's George?'

'He's tired. And sad. And running away.' Her smiled faded and she chewed her lip, obviously worried.

'The family seems to think you'd be able to persuade him to slow down,' he told her quietly, and she nodded.

'I've told him I think that he should take a break, that him and Angelina should go away somewhere together, but I guess only time will tell whether he listens to me.'

'I'm sure he will,' he murmered, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. 'If he knows what's good for him, anyway.'

She giggled again and pinched his side, then looked up at him. 'Have you been OK without me?'

'Just a standard trial by fire, complete with routine parental interview.' He shrugged nonchalantly, amused when she cringed slightly in his arms. 'But mostly, I've just been welcomed by everyone.'

'That's good,' she sighed, and turned towards the door as the Weasleys and Harry began to troop out into the garden. He released her so that she could embrace Molly and Arthur, and they both greeted Angelina and Fleur, who had either been secreted elsewhere on the property when they arrived or had recently Floo'd in. Harry, Ron, Ginevra and Bill lined up to hug Hermione, and then he followed her to sit at the tables with the others.

Chaos instantly ensued. Food flew up and down the table as requests and demands for different dishes were shouted by multiple voices, and Draco had to frequently duck as arms and hands reached over and past him to grab at this or that. Hermione reached into her bag and produced the bottles of wine, which were instantly whisked away by an anonymous freckled hand. Moments later, glasses of all shapes and sizes were passed down, hand to hand, filled with the sweet pale liquid.

Through the melee, his eyes sought out the other non-family members, and he saw the resigned amusement on their faces as they filled their own plates from passing dishes with practiced ease. An elbow nudged his arm, and he turned to Hermione. She grinned at him and handed him a plate that she had managed to fill with a variety of items. Her own plate was equally filled, and he chuckled at the realisation that she had eaten enough times in this state of bedlam that she had known he'd need her help.

He gratefully took his plate from her and leaned in to kiss her cheek in thanks. He'd tried to be inconspicuous about it, but he suddenly heard very loud fake vomitting noises from across the table and he whirled round to glare at Ron. He opened his mouth to respond, but found it wasn't necessary. Bill, George, Harry and Ginevra had all begun pelting food at Ron, with mingled cries and jeers for him to 'grow up' and 'get over himself'. Draco couldn't help laughing as the red-head yelped under the barrage of missiles, and the assault only stopped when Arthur called from the head of the table, 'Alright, he gets it. Don't waste all the food, now.'

The talk around them became a pleasant background buzz as everyone settled to their own plates, and Draco found he'd been completely correct about Molly's culinary skills. It didn't take him long to clear his plate, and the matriarch instantly passed him a large bowl of trifle. She smiled as he helped himself to a large serving, offering some to Hermione before sending it on its way around the table. The dessert was just as delicious as everything else, and soon he was leaning back from the chair, the button on his jeans straining as he let out a satisfied sigh.

The evening crept in as they sat together, chatter filling the warm air around them. Every time he emptied his glass, someone refilled it, and soon he was feeling warm and fuzzy, pleasantly tipsy. He ran his thumb over Hermione's knuckle absently, smiling softly as she suggested holiday destinations for George and Angelina's upcoming trip. He'd felt her relax as soon as the man had announced the plan to go away to the table at large, and his heart stuttered at the way Molly had looked at Hermione, gratitude and love clear in her expression.

'Right then.' Arthur stood, stretching a little as he stepped away from the table. 'All hands on deck, you boys. We've got tents to set up.' Draco looked around him as the Weasleys rose as one, and when he saw Harry get up he followed. The men all took apparently pre-determined places in a circle in the meadow, and Harry subtly indicated with his eyes where Draco should stand. He nodded to him gratefully, then turned his attention back to Arthur, who had summoned a large circle of material that was now descending to the ground between them all.

As one, the men drew their wands and pointed them at the circle, and Draco followed suit. 'With me,' Arthur called, and began to raise his own wand. They mimicked his movement, and the centre of the cloth began to rise and expand, flattening out across the top and around the sides. Soon, a large tent stood in the meadow, secured by magic. Draco eyed it, registering that it was much smaller than the Burrow.

'Don't let looks deceive you,' Harry murmered as he passed Draco towards the entrance of the tent, a pile of bedding under one arm. Draco turned to pluck a floating bundle of cloth from the air beside him, and followed the Boy Who Lived into the tent. He was immediately impressed by the contents.

The walls were still clearly canvas, but there was much more space than he had expected. The central area was almost as big as the Weasley's living room, and around it were 7 separate doorways. Through one of the doorways he could see a kitchen area, and opposite it was a small bathroom with a shower, sink and toilet. He watched as Bill, George, Ron and Harry filed into a room each, all clutching similar bundles in their arms, and realised these must be bedrooms. He made his way to the only room that appeared to be left, and again was surprised. A single bed occupied the room, piled high with many pillows and a thick-looking duvet.

'The girls will be sleeping inside tonight.' He looked back to the doorway to find Harry peering in, a slight smile on his face. 'Molly's orders.'

'Understood,' he replied, and set about to making his bed. To his surprise, Harry joined him, holding a hand out for one of the multiple pillowcases. Draco handed him one and they grabbed a pillow each.

'You're handling this well,' Harry commented casually.

'Well, some of us were brought up with manners, Potter.'

'Took long enough for you to use them,' the brunette jibed back with a grin, chucking the newly-dressed pillow at Draco's head. He caught it easily and fluffed it, laying it down to join the others. He turned back as Harry continued, 'Seriously, though. I love this family, so very much, but it can be a little ... overwhelming at the best of times. And you're being thrown in at the deep end as we're just coming through the worst of times.' His green eyes darkened as his words triggered memories, and Draco's chest tightened.

'Listen, Harry - '

'No need.' Harry raised a hand, and smiled at him softly, his eyes clear again. 'You don't owe any of us anything. But if you still feel like you do, just keep looking after her like you are. That's more than payment enough for all of us.' The Boy Who Lived clapped him on the shoulder, then left to rejoin the gathering outside. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat as he exited the tent.

The party had moved from the long tables to a circle of low, comfortable-looking chairs arranged in a circle around a fire pit. His eyes found Hermione on the other side of the fire, and she smiled at him, holding out her hand in invitation. He joined her with just a few long strides and sank into the chair next to her, tugging her down to sit in his lap and nuzzling into her hair as she settled comfortably against him. He observed the chatting, freckled faces around the fire, interspersed by Harry, Fleur and Angelina, and registered how comfortable he already felt in their company.


He didn't know how long he'd been asleep when he woke to something warm touching his cheek. He rolled over and squinted against the bright blue light that filled his bedroom. He sat up, his eyes clearing, and he was able to focus on the small, flickering blue flame that hovered by his head. As he watched, it bobbed closer to the doorway, clearly beckoning him. Grinning, he crept from his bed, threw his jeans and shirt back on and pulled a jumper out of the pile of clothes Hermione had handed him from her beaded bag when they'd parted ways earlier that night. He struggled into the clothing as quietly as he could, and snuck out of the tent after the flame, dimly noticing that there was snoring coming from one of the other rooms.

As soon as he was outside, the flame immediately bobbed away from him again. He followed it, the clear night and the light of the almost-full moon making it easy for him to see where he was placing his feet. The air was cool but not cold, and the stars shone clearly in this sky that was devoid of light polution for miles around.

He played Catch-Me with the flame until it led him to the edge of the woodland at the border of the Weasley's property, and there under a big, solitary oak, he could see her slight frame, facing away from him as she looked up at the stars. He slunk towards her silently, and when he reached her he wrapped on hand around her hip and the other around her mouth to stifle her shriek.

'My, my, Granger,' he breathed into her ear, and she relaxed at the sound of his voice, so he dropped his hand from her lips. 'Can it be that you're breaking the rules?'

'Oh, please,' she sighed, turning around in his arms to look up at him and lacing her hands behind his neck. 'If you think there's anyone but Ron left in that tent right now then you're not as smart as you seem.'

He thought back to the sounds he'd heard as he'd exited the tent and realised that, yes, he had only heard the one voice. 'Touché,' he murmered. She began to play with the hair at the base of his skull and his eyes flittered closed as he tipped his head back, enjoying the feeling.

'Besides,' she said, her voice now husky enough to make him look down into her eyes again. Swirling chocolate and honey, molten with a sudden need. 'I haven't had you to myself for a moment all day. I thought it might be nice to spend a little alone time together.'

'Miss Granger, you're trying to seduce me.' Her eyes widened, and he chuckled and dropped his head to murmer against her throat, 'Don't look so shocked, Princess. I've seen a Muggle movie or two.'

The hairs on his neck raised with pleasure as she breathed against his ear, 'You truly are a changed man, Draco Malfoy.'