We just stood there.

Her crying became less and less and she seemed to calm down.

I expected Professor McGonnagal or Newt to burst through the door at any moment and pull us apart, but the door remained closed.

We remained alone. Just her and me and the chaos around us.

"I think I need to talk to the others," she whispered softly, loosening her arms, which were still wrapped around me.

"I think you should shower first. They can wait that quarter of an hour."

Something about that sentence must have been funny, because she began to giggle.

Immediately, the familiar warmth spread through my chest every time I heard her laugh.

Shortly afterwards she disappeared into the bathroom.

Her family looked at me questioningly.

"Listen to her right away, please. No interrupting, no tortured moans, no accusations. Just listen."

Nods of agreement. It was strange having to explain such things to four grown people but after the argument in the graveyard, I guess it was necessary for someone to tell them.

With her hair still damp Flo came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and before anyone else could hog it I walked up to her.

"I don't think I should be here. If you need me I'll be outside." I pointed to the seating area on the terrace.

"Thank you," she whispered and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

The place she had kissed tingled.

Her effect on me was frightening.

Never before had I reacted so strongly to touch and never before had anything upset me so much.

I was just unsure whether I wanted that to change or not.

The sun was shining and warming my back as I made myself comfortable outside.

It was quiet and idyllic, just the perfect place. I let my eyes wander around the garden.

It was so different from anything I knew.

There was no perfection.

The grass was not trimmed to the millimetre, the flowers were not arranged in colour but were mixed up in the beds and the tree house could have used a new coat of paint.

I was attracted to this tree house, it was something I had never been allowed to have as a child.

So I climbed the rickety ladder and crawled through the small opening into the inside of the house.

It was as small on the inside as it was on the outside. Unusual for wizards, when they could have easily made it bigger.

It even looked as if it had never received a spark of magic. Everything looked unprofessional and I was beginning to wonder if the wooden beams would even support me.

There was something carved on one of the boards on the wall. Three names, a star and two shapes that I couldn't identify.

The names and the indefinable shapes looked as if they were as old as the beams, only the one star seemed fresh.

It was much neater and more delicate than the rest.

Flo had been outside this morning, she had to have been here. That was the only logical explanation.

She and stars had a special connection. I had never asked her what made stars so special to her but it was clear from the way she always looked at the sky that it meant something to her.

"What do you mean little star?", I asked quietly without expecting an answer.

"Do you expect it to answer you?", someone asked from the ladder and I was almost scared to death when Flo smiled shyly at me.

She scrambled up to me before I could even answer.

Slowly and deliberately she stroked her fingers over the notches in the wood and then paused over the fresh star.

"I didn't have the heart to cross out her name. But she got her star anyway," she said so softly that it was almost as if she was speaking more to herself than to me.

And it made sense. It was so simple and logical that I felt incredibly stupid not to have thought of it myself.

They were her stars. Her mom, her dad, and now her grandma. That was the connection she had to them, that was why she looked up at the sky like that, because that was where her family was.

This thought was so sad and so beautiful at the same moment that I didn't know what to feel, let alone say.

The space up here was more than small with two adults and yet I wanted to be closer to her.

I carefully slid forward a little so that I was now sitting directly behind her. I rested my head on hers, stretched out my arm and put my hand on hers, which was still on the star.

"You shouldn't cross out her name," I said softly, then I heard her sniffle.

"I was five when we built this. We did it entirely without magic and I was incredibly proud of it.

I spent days in here and it drove Grandma crazy when I wouldn't even come down for dinner." She giggled and leaned against me, pulling my arms around her like she was afraid I was going to leave.

"This was the first place I felt safe again, even before I called this house home."

Again she sniffled and wiped her nose with my sleeve.

I would have to break her of that, it was disgusting. But not now, not today.

"It took quite a long time, you know. It must have been two years before this was home to me.

It was crazy, because I knew this house and grandma and grandpa did everything they could to make this my home. But I didn't want that.

For the first time in my life, I didn't want to be here. I wanted to go back.

I only gradually realised that there was nothing to go back to.

Death is quite an abstract concept for a child. Understanding that they won't come back and that really never was hard.

No, it is hard.

Now that I understand what death means it hurts even more.

Sometimes I feel guilty that I miss Grandma more than my parents. I mean that's wrong, I should miss my parents more, I loved them more, right?"

With the last sentences her voice trembled and became quieter and quieter.

"You loved them very much, I'm sure of it and they know it."

I hoped that these words would reassure her.

"Do you really think they know?", she asked cautiously.

"Yes, for sure. They're your parents, they just know these things."

At least they should.

My mother knew I loved her, I had told her that many times, especially as a child.

My father on the other hand was different, I had loved him, I really had. I had admired him, he had been my hero.

But the older I got, the more my admiration turned into disgust and fear.

Today I no longer felt any love for Lucius Malfoy.

All my love was for my father, the man I had looked up to. But that man was long forgotten, as was the little boy who adored him.

What remained was a ruthless man who put his power above everything and a broken boy.

And then we just sat there. I listened to her breaths, which became quieter and quieter until she eventually fell asleep.

I slid back with her in my arms so that I could lean against a wall and just listened to her breathing.

At some point, I had completely lost track of time, I heard the ladder creak and a few seconds later Queenie stuck her head through the hatch.

We understood each other without words. Her head disappeared again and came back a few minutes later.

Along with a blanket, a pillow, a teapot and a cup.

She floated everything to me and I formed a silent "thank you".

I covered Flo with the blanket and the pillow I put behind my own back.

I left the tea, nice as the gesture was but I hated tea.

Flo kept mumbling things in her sleep and none of them I could identify as words.

But it was quite cute how she muttered them to herself and yet never woke up.

She slept for maybe an hour, an hour and a half at the most until she woke up.

"Are you feeling better now?", I asked quietly.

She nodded.

"Yes. Thank you."

She stretched and looked around.

"Tea?" she asked, confused.

"Queenie brought it, like the blanket," I explained to her as I too sat up straighter.

She giggled. "And yet you hate tea."

"I hate it really. The pot's still full if you want it."

"I think we should go back inside. There's still chaos waiting for us."

I had to make sure she was ready.

"Are you sure you want to do this now? I guess chaos is waiting, no matter how long it takes."

"I have to do this now."

There was nothing more to say to that, no argument I could put to it, if she wanted to, if she was sure she could, then she would and I would support her.

And it wasn't just me, the five of us worked in her room while Jacob stood in the kitchen and took care of dinner.

The work went on in silence, every now and then we asked where certain things belonged and when Flo didn't give us an answer we just put it on her desk and turned to other things.

Professor McGonnagal and I were carrying the last boards of the plateau out into the garden when she broke the silence.

"I have not been fair to you. I want to apologise for that. You are a good boyfriend to Daisy and that is all that should matter to me."

Her voice was calm and level-headed and I really bought this apology.

"You seem to know her better than all of us put together," she added as we placed the boards on the pile with the others.

I didn't know how to respond, so unexpected was this apology.

"Why do you call her Flo?"

This question was also unexpected but I had an answer.

"Because she asked me to. I don't know why and I didn't ask but that name must mean a lot to her."

"Not just to her," she confessed quietly and now for the first time I saw the person behind the professor.

She was quiet and there was such a melancholy in her voice that it almost swallowed her up.

It wasn't Flo who had shunned her nickname, it had been everyone else.

"That's what her parents used to call her.

We didn't think it would do her any good to call her that but apparently we were wrong, as we often are."

"Professor," I said in a calm tone, trying to meet her gaze.

"I don't think it was a mistake. Maybe it took those twelve years for her to allow that nickname again. Otherwise, I'm sure she would have said something sooner."

She looked at me as if expecting a more detailed explanation and yes, somehow I believed there was one.

It was not my way to speak like that, to turn feelings into words but I had to get it off my chest because I too had often thought about names and what they meant.

Because there was a mile wide difference between people calling me Malfoy and people I allowed to call me Draco.

"I think each name means something different to her, stands for something different in her.

Daisy is her protection, behind that she is safe and feels protected. Feels normal and accepted.

Then there is Florentine. Florentine has more trust in people, she is more honest and emotional. People who know her real first name are close to her, have a more important meaning for her.

And there is Flo.

Flo is four years old and wants to be loved. She is lonely and vulnerable.

Flo is not for everyone, because these sides are the most difficult about her.

I don't think she's allowed anyone to call her that again until now because she hasn't allowed herself to be that little four-year-old girl again."

And that was it. I had gone through each of those stages, had even added one more with her surname.

And the more I knew, the more she let me know, the more the perfect image I had of her crumbled.

The moment I had fallen in love with her, she had been Harper.

Daisy was the girl I had donated my kidney to and Florentine was the one who had lain crying on my shoulder after reading her grandma's letter.

But only Flo allowed me to kiss her.

Only Flo had shown me all her demons and only she had broken me.

I was long past the status of being in love.

I loved her.

Loved her flaws and quirks, her demons and fears, as much as I loved her laughter and sacrifice.

And I loved Harper, Daisy, Florentine and Flo. Every single facet about her and I would never tire of her.

I knew that now, at eighteen, and I would know it at eighty.

"This isn't the first time you've thought about it," the professor stated and I just shook my head.

"I will try to be fair to you," she said before we rejoined the company of the others.

It wasn't going to be easy, it had never really been easy but for me in my situation it was bordering on impossible that Professor McGonnagal would eventually accept me as her goddaughter's boyfriend.

But that wouldn't stop me from trying.

It wasn't that I wanted to impress her or do anything to please her but I wanted to be the best possible form of myself for Flo and if that led to convincing her family of my worth, then I had killed two birds with one stone.

Dinner went quietly and tasted delicious. It was kind of strange for me, as I was supposed to be sitting in Hogwarts now and not here in this house, at this table. But that's just how it was and maybe it was good.

After dinner, Flo disappeared for a walk. She went alone and even though we were all worried about her we let her go.

She was an adult and although she was not in the condition to be alone at the moment, we trusted her completely. If she wanted to be alone, she would be fine.

I also spent the evening alone, because sitting in the living room with the others felt more than wrong.

Newt had offered me to help him with the magical creatures, but I declined with thanks. I had never been extremely fascinated by animal creatures and one day I would certainly look at his work but today was not that day.

Instead, I sat alone in Flo's room and did the assignments I had missed in class today.

I didn't have a good starting position on the job market because of my name and the mark on my forearm, so I tried to make up for it as best I could with excellent grades.

And for that, you also had to learn in situations like this.

I was as good as done when Flo came back into the room and dropped onto the bed.

I finished my sentence and then turned to her.

"Did the walk do its job?" I wanted to know.

"Yes, it really helped."

A short silence.

"Will you come to me?" she asked cautiously, suddenly seeming incredibly shy. Something she really rarely was. But maybe she was, maybe Flo was shy.

I had no choice, if she wanted me to come to her then I would.

There was no maybe for me, no I'll-think-about-it, there was no other option, it was either her or it was nothing.

I sat down next to her on the bed and within a split second and without me being able to do anything to stop her, she had climbed onto my lap and wrapped her arms around me.

Please, don't let her start crying again.

And indeed she didn't, for the time being. She just snuggled against my chest while I stroked her back soothingly.

She really is like a little cat, I wonder if she likes it when you scratched her behind the ears?

I hadn't really thought much about how her animagus might also affect her human form until now, but it seemed absolutely within the realm of possibility that she would remain more than just her eyes after the transformation.

"I'm sorry I said I hated you," she muttered.

"It's okay, I guess I deserved it."

She shook her head wildly, causing her hair to keep tickling my face.

"No, it's not fine. You were right to take me away from there. I would never have gone willingly."

She looked up at me now and her big green eyes glittered.

Damn, she would cry again.

I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and that must have been exactly the wrong thing to do, because a tear came loose and was now rolling down her cheek.

I quickly wiped it away.

"I've been shitty to you often enough and only said things because I was angry.

You still have some free passes until we're even," I explained to her with a smile and finally something showed effect because she smiled at me now too.

But not only that, she leaned forward and closed the distance between us by putting her lips on mine. Gently and carefully, not nearly as demanding as last night.

I could die.

Every time she kissed me I could die. It felt like I was burning inside but it didn't hurt.

And this kiss, after I thought I had lost her, was indescribable.

Her hands ran up my cheeks into my hair, where she literally clawed at it.

Concentration Draco, I reminded myself.

This was not a moment for rash actions. The temptation was there, she gave herself to me and it wasn't that I didn't want that.

I wanted it so badly, I wanted to feel every inch of her, kiss every part and tell her she was beautiful.

But I wouldn't, not now, not here. That would take advantage of her emotional state and I wasn't like that, not anymore.

Malfoy was the type to take whatever he wanted, no matter the cost but Draco would not be.

I would hold her, comfort her and stroke her hair but I wouldn't touch her beyond that.

Besides, she had hated me hours ago and I wasn't sure how much of that hatred still resided in her.

She broke away from me and rested her forehead against mine.

"I don't hate you," she breathed against my lips and by Salazar, I had never had to muster as much self-control as I did at that moment.

It would have been so easy to hold her under me on the mattress, to do to her what my brain had been doing in my dreams for months but it wasn't right.

It was too much, she was too close, she was too impressionable and too hurt. It wouldn't be right.

So I did it, hoping for the best chance of stopping her from kissing me out of my mind.

"I'll remind you of that next time I have to show you and your stubbornness to something."

I tried to make her laugh. So I put on my most arrogant smile and it worked wonders.

She punched me in the arm and then flopped backwards onto the bed.

"You're an idiot," she laughed and it was the first time I heard her laugh in the cemetery today.

It would get better, it would get easy again.

We just needed time, she needed time and I would wait. Would tickle every laugh out of her if I had to and I would hold her hand when she needed to cry.

We were a team, she and I. A broken, unequal team, but a team.