Left Behind

Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Drama
Ships: Hermione/Harry, Hermione/Draco friendship
Summary: After the War ended, Harry decided he needed to escape from the Wizarding world to collect himself. However, upon returning seven years later, he finds that he left far more than he meant to.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my twisted mind... currently, it can't help but envision a handsome, 24 year old Harry Potter... shirtless. lol. Sue me and you'll get everything in my left pocket... which is nothing, sadly.

Left Behind

Chapter One

"Mumma, I don't want to read that one," a little girl exclaimed, wrinkling her nose.

"You say that every night," Hermione reminded, with an amused sigh. "Do we really need to read another, just so you can tell me its rubbish and you want this one?" she asked, smiling lightly.

"Yes," her daughter told her, grinning. "I want to read... That one!" she said, pointing excitedly.

"Love, you hate that book," she assured. "I barely get through the first paragraph and you're already telling me that there is no way a Goblin would say such things."

Huffing, the little girl placed her hands on her hips as if to make a stand, though was rather hard since she was dressed in a white nightie with brooms sewn all over. "Goblins wouldn't say that, mummy!" she exclaimed, loudly. "Grippy would never, ever say those things!"

Hermione smiled, stifling her laugh. "Grippy? He may not be like these books portray, but I have a feeling he wouldn't be ecstatic about you chopping his name like that. Yes, Griphook is a kind and generous goblin, and most of these stories have been completely written out of context. In fact, if you'll remember correctly, I have tried to give these books away to Goodwill or the like, but you absolutely refuse."

"I can't be the reason other kids read such nasty books, mum," her daughter reminded, her eyes wide. "That would be like spreading lies!"

"All right, all right," Hermione said, sighing. "Now, just let me read you your favorite book and you can finally go to sleep. Molly is coming by to pick you up early tomorrow," she reminded.

"Is uncle Ron going to be there?" she asked, excitedly. "I want to play with Jasmine," she told her, hopefully.

"Ron won't be there, but his daughter will. He has a game out of town, you know how the season is. But I think your aunt Luna will be," she told her, grinning.

Climbing out of her bed, the tiny slip of a girl began jumping on the bed, enthusiastically. "I haven't seen Jazzy in three whole weeks," she told her mother, shaking her head.

"Magnolia, you place your bum in bed right now," Hermione chastised. "It's nearly nine thirty," she reminded, wrapping her arms around her daughter and lifting her high into the air.

Giggling, the small girl shook her head, causing wavy black hair to fly around all over. "Mummy," she whined, though she was still smiling. "I hate it when you call me by my whole name!"

"Would you rather me call you by Magpie?" she asked, frowning.

"No," she told her, letting herself be placed back in bed and pulling up her blankets. "Only uncle Draco can call me that!"

"Yes, yes, I know!" Rolling her eyes, Hermione tucked the thick blanket in around her little girl and leaned across her, resting her elbow on the mattress. Opening the book, she inhaled deeply. "Once upon a time, which was really only seven years ago, there was an on-going war between a very dark wizard and most of the Wizarding world," she read, smiling as her daughter yawned and settled into her bed.

"Of all the strong and bright wizards and witches, only one could save the world and all of its innocence. From a small child, the dark Lord was banished, only to arise later, seeking revenge and power. But as the child grew, so did his power and need to save those around him. He had suffered a great loss from the dark Lord, losing his beloved parents when he was but a year old. However, this only fueled this boys' want for triumph over the dark Lord.

"During his seventh year at Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the boy-who-lived, as dubbed by the Wizarding world, lived up to his reputation. Taking with him his best friends, they created the Golden Trio; three people who were bent on helping all those around him to create peace in the world. Faced with the dark Lord once more, the one and only Harry Potter was able to defeat the evil man, saving all those that stood behind him.

"The dark Lord was never seen again, nor was he to be feared. Once, the name Voldemort had struck fear in the hearts of many, but now only holds a brief remembrance of a man who did not understand the true meaning of love. For Harry Potter had used such feelings to defeat the once powerful dark Lord.

"Now, the Wizarding world is a free and relatively peaceful place, thanks to our savior, wherever he may be."

"Mummy," her little girl asked, her eyes fluttering closed. "Where is daddy?"

Inhaling sharply, Hermione felt her throat constrict. Rarely did her little girl ask where the man who was supposed to be there for her was. "Daddy... is still on his vacation," she replied, sighing. It wasn't a lie; he had left long ago, looking for some kind of solitude from the fame that came with his triumph.

"When will he be back?" Magnolia wondered, snuggling her head into the pillow.

"I- I don't know darling," she admitted, shaking her head. "Don't tell me you're tired of me already," she kidded.

"No," she told her, quietly. "I just miss him."

"I know sweetie," Hermione said, lifting from the bed. Leaning down, she kissed her daughter's forehead adoringly. "Get some sleep, Maggie. You have a long day tomorrow." Smiling, she brushed her wavy black hair off her forehead. "I love you," she whispered.

"Love you too," Magnolia mumbled, drifting away.

Blowing out the candle sitting on the bedside table, Hermione slipped out of her daughter's room quietly. Leaving the door half open, she crept down the hallway and walked down the long set of stairs against the wall. The many moving pictures arranged over the pale blue tinted wall, caught her eyes. It would be Maggie's sixth birthday in just a little over a month, and she couldn't help but be struck by how much time had passed. There were various photos of her and her little girl, aging over the last six years. Many of them included a ginger-haired clan of Weasley's and a platinum blonde Malfoy, who had curiously ended up being a very close friend. Then there was Luna Weasley, formerly Lovegood, holding her little girl Jasmine, who was only a year younger than Maggie.

Leaning against the banister, Hermione willed herself not to cry. There should be another person on her wall; a boy with raven hair and emerald eyes. Instead, she was left with open spaces all over; a hundred and one places where Maggie should be captured on camera, being held by her father. Six years and seven months ago, Harry Potter had set off for his journey alone, leaving Hermione and Ron a letter of explanation. After returning from a healer's, Hermione had planned on telling the love of her life that she was carrying their child, but instead found herself holding a goodbye note.

She was broken away from opening old wounds by a familiar voice in the background. Turning, hoping her eyes weren't as teary as they felt, she tried to smile at her best friend, but failed miserably.

"Granger, love, I hardly get to see you anymore, please try and greet me with a little more glee next time," Draco drawled, walking toward the stairs.

Chuckling, Hermione walked down the remaining steps, wrapping him in her arms. "Sorry," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "You can pretend they're tears of happiness at seeing you," she told him, smiling.

Rubbing her back, he shook his head. "Did Magpie bring up Potter again?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

"Yes, your lovely goddaughter wondered when-" Breaking off, she shook her head and hugged him tighter. "When he'd come back," she explained, her voice strained.

Sighing, Draco hugged her tighter. "I told you not to keep reading her that book about him. She knows who her dad is, reminding her that he was a hero who left isn't going to help anything."

"I know," she said, pulling back to wipe away her tears. "It's just-" Worrying her lip, she looked away, glaring at an unknown destination. "I want her to know her dad, I just don't want to have to tell her that he doesn't know anything about her. That he may never return," she admitted, inhaling painfully.

"Com'on," Draco said, pulling her toward the den. "We need a drink!" he exclaimed, smirking.

"Draco," she chastised. "I'm due in London early tomorrow," she reminded.

"All the more reason to share a nightcap with me," he replied, shrugging. "I haven't seen you or my beautiful goddaughter in nearly a month. Do spare me a few moments, will you?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. Pushing her lightly onto the couch, he walked to the bag he left sitting on a chair, revealing a bottle of red wine.

"What's the special occasion?" she wondered, smiling.

"Well, my dear friend," he said, pulling out a couple of tall glasses and popping the cork from the dark bottle. "I have not only been given a raise," he told her. "But... I've been transferred to another city," he announced.

"Really?" she asked, her smile faltering. "Well, where are you going this time? It was the States the first time, Hong Kong the second, dozens of places after, and currently, if I remember correctly, you're in southern France," she said, rather disappointed.

"True," Draco said, holding out her glass of wine to her. "However, this time I've been moved a whole lot closer to here," he told her, smirking.

Perking up, Hermione smiled hopefully. "Like how close?" she asked.

"Like fifteen minutes from here," he replied, grinning. "I've been moved back!" he announced.

Hermione was out of her seat and embracing him within seconds. "You're sure?" she asked, her eyes widening. "I know how happy you were that they were sending you around the world. I mean, this job is everything to you, I thought you liked living anywhere and everywhere," she reminded, shaking her head.

"I did," he admitted, sighing. "But I was getting tired of it," he told her. "I mean, I haven't seen Molly for nearly two months," he said, sadly. "And the last time I spoke to Ron, through the fireplace grate I might add, he ended up having to run off because Jazzy was getting into his private stash of cookies!"

Chuckling, Hermione smiled despite the situation.

"And I've missed you and Magpie," he told her, frowning. "With all of my friends having kids and me traveling the world, it just feels like I've been missing out."

"Well, you're a godfather and an uncle," she reminded, smiling. "But I guess I can understand your wanting to settle down," she said, smirking. "I just didn't think that a twenty-four year old Draco Malfoy would ever say those words to me," she joked.

Laughing, Draco nodded with wide eyes. "Yes, well I never believed I'd say them either," he admitted, shaking his head. "After all of the women I've met world wide though, I'm really quite interested in meeting a nice woman 'round here and just relaxing for awhile," he told her, his shoulders fell from their stiff position.

"That's great," she told him, patting his arm. "I've always wanted to be a godmother," she exclaimed, grinning.

Draco snorted, smirking with amusement. "What makes you think I want you to be my kid's godmum? What credentials do you have? Any references I can see?"

Scoffing, Hermione crossed her arms. "I'll have you know, I have been a fabulous mother for the past six years," she told him, her nose lifting into the air with false attitude.

"All right," Draco said, lifting his wine glass to his lips. "I'll take your word for it."

A short while later, while Draco settled down in the guest room as his flat hadn't been set up yet, Hermione made her way into her comfortable bedroom. Crawling into her long, brown sleigh bed, she pulled the thick white duvet over her legs and leaned back against the headboard. Two pictures sat on her night stand; one was of her and Maggie while they sat on a blanket in the park nearby, eating a packed picnic. While the second held rather painful memories as she gazed at it; taken just a few short days before Harry had left. It showed the two of them, wrapped in each other's arms, walking around the Black Lake. It was nothing fancy; no kissing or dancing or anything of the sort. His arms were wrapped around her waist, his head leaned against hers; her hands were settled over his, while she smiled out at the setting sun over the Lake. It was beautiful, though the reminder was marred by her sadness over it all.

After years of being in love with her best friend, she had finally had her feelings returned. The War had ended, marked victorious for the Light side. Draco had shown his spy abilities, handing off information to the professors while still looking like a would-be Death Eater as he stood beside the likes of Severus Snape and his father, Lucius Malfoy. However, when the war came to a head, Draco had shown his true colours, transferring to the right side and blowing away three Death Eaters that stood to kill Molly and Ginny Weasley, and then another who had been ready to simply snap Hermione's neck. Though nobody but McGonagall had extensive knowledge about Draco's standing, it became apparent just who he was fighting with. When everything was over, after the green light had dimmed from Harry's triumph over Voldemort, the Light side gathered in silence at the Great Hall.

Everything had been explained in full detail, from Harry's prophecy to Draco's spying for the Order. Though many had hopes a miracle would reveal Dumbledore as alive, no such news had come to relieve them. After all was said and done, the Golden Trio had embraced with the unimaginable high of victory, hugging with tears and happiness in full thrust. Ron broke away first, to pick Luna up and twirl her around excitedly. Then, to everyone's surprise, Harry had done something nobody expected; he kissed his best friend of seven years, Hermione Granger. And it wasn't just any kiss, it was passionate and loving; full of everything Hermione had hoped it would be. Both of them had still been crying, but not so much that Harry could say it had been 'wet.'

Weeks turned into months, and before Hermione knew it, she was even more in love with Harry than she had been before they were together. He woke something up in her and she couldn't help but think that his smile had grown with alarming warmth since the demise of Voldemort. He no longer looked as haunted as he once did and she had high hopes that perhaps life would turn out right for him; for them. It was nearly two months from Harry's eighteenth birthday when they made love for the first time; after a collective four months together, they took the next step. She couldn't describe how delirious in love she was with him, she was practically floating in a world all her own. Filled with late night getaways, flying around on his broom, though the first few moments always terrified her. Consumed with warm kisses, trailing from her mouth to her belly button, and cuddling in front of the warm fire. She had thought that everything was perfect, until he began to draw away.

A week before his birthday, he had confided that while things seemed to be going wonderfully, he was beginning to fall apart from how much attention he was getting whenever he stepped out of the house. It wasn't that he hated that people were so thankful, he just couldn't take being hounded every minute of the day. He couldn't even walk to the grocery store without being mobbed by admirers or reporters. Finally, it came to an end. While Hermione was off at the healers, Harry had packed up his belongings and scrawled out a couple of notes to the two people who meant the most to him.

Collapsing where she stood, Hermione had sobbed, knowing that he had left her without a second thought. But it wasn't just her that he had left, but his unborn child too. She hadn't known anything about it, only finding out that day that she was carrying a one month old fetus in her stomach. Of course, who should find her in her broken state but her new friend Draco. Not being one for consoling weeping women, he awkwardly helped her off the floor and simply held her on the couch until she fell asleep. Finding the letter still clutched in her hands, he had assumed it was because of Harry leaving. Upon waking up, to find that he was reaching desperately for a book behind him, that was just inches from his fingers, Hermione had accidentally startled him.

Which is when everything had changed. While telling Draco the entire tale, he had rubbed her back as she hiccuped through the whole ordeal, being much more helpful that she thought he would. Hours later, after she had managed to cry herself to sleep again, she woke to find him making tea in the kitchen of her flat. From that day on, she had found someone to confide everything in. He was rather grossed out by a lot of the pregnancy details, but in the end, he turned out to be an incredible confidant. He even came with her to a muggle Lamaze class because Ron had chickened out at the last minute, thinking it sounded scary. The boy could fight off Death Eaters, but he couldn't hold her hand through breathing exercises. Days turned to weeks and eventually to months, and before she knew it, she was laying in a hospital, ready to give birth. While both Ron and Draco had promised to be there, Ron had passed out almost immediately, while Draco held her hand through the entire thing, wincing the whole time.

Hermione couldn't have asked for a better godfather for her little girl, named in full as Magnolia Elizabeth Potter. Though the nurse had almost accidentally written Malfoy, much to Draco's amusement. The two of them had never shown any romantic interest in each other, as he was quite comfortable telling her of his recent bed partners, though never in grotesque detail. They were simply best friends, nothing more and nothing less. He had helped her through the loss of Harry, childbirth, and then motherhood. Playing as the adoring uncle, he never overstepped his boundaries, though they were fairly large to begin with. He had been there to witness Maggie's first steps, first words, and certainly her first attack of magic, as she had accidentally sent him flying back against the wall when he tried to stop her from climbing on the counter. She had been startled to hear his voice and upon turning around wildly, she wandlessly threw him backward. He shrugged it off, more amused than hurt, but Hermione was quite surprised at her potent work.

Still, Hermione's heart craved the father of her child, more than anything else. For the first year, she had been desperately hoping he would come back, that he would arrive before Magnolia was born. Then, for the next three years, she had fallen into a bitter hatred of her best friend and former lover. Lastly though, over the past three years, she had learned to accept what had happened, and now she was more interested in Maggie having a dad, rather than her having her ex back.

She had help from all of her friends, finding that the Weasley's were really quite generous in their love for her. Ron had been overwhelmingly upset when his best friend had left him with nothing but a letter, but he stuck by Hermione through everything. He married Luna a month before Hermione gave birth, and tried to help her out as best he could when it came to babysitting, diapers and everything that went along with a baby. He was a little inept in that department though, and upon finding out Luna was pregnant months later, he took a course on being a father, much to Hermione's surprise. Molly often babysat Maggie when Hermione had to leave for work; as she was now working to find a cure to the many ailments St. Mungo's had to deal with.

Her life had turned out beautifully, despite the disappearance of one Harry James Potter. He never wrote and there was never any mention of spotting him in any Wizarding papers. She believed him to be living somewhere in the muggle world, away from the media that hounded him. While many knew Maggie was his daughter, it had been kept from the papers for her own safety. Most people understood, though Rita Skeeter had to be blackmailed into agreeing not to write one word about Hermione's daughter. It was rather hard not to know that Maggie Potter was her father's daughter, as she had his same startling green eyes and raven black hair. Her face though, clearly resembled Hermione. Having a small, pert nose, and a splash of freckles over her cheeks. She had her mouth and warm smile, though thankfully she hadn't had to suffer through large teeth; at least not so far.

Maggie had become everything to her, which had actually surprised her in some aspects. She had only been nineteen when her little girl was born, and completely unsure if she was ready to be a mother. However, the moment the healer had placed her little girl in her arms, all insecurities had flown out the window. Maggie's little hand had curled around hers, causing her to burst into happy tears with the knowledge that the tiny baby in her arms was all hers. As a single mother, even with all of the help, she had grown a tight and lasting bond with her daughter. There wasn't a day that went by when Hermione didn't hug, kiss, or tell her little girl that she loved her. She had involved Magnolia in books at a very young age, but she never pressured her to read, as she wanted her to enjoy it, not hate it. Parks were a regular place for them to be found, whether it be them playing together, or simply lazing on the grass, reading a book. At six years old, Magnolia was simply the most important person in all of Hermione life, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

What Draco had said earlier was still ringing in her ears. He was going to be settling down; another friend to see with a complete family. It only reminded her that Maggie needed a father; not uncles and godfathers, but a real dad. It may not be Harry, but somebody was going to have to replace that empty space sometime. Waving her hand, Hermione made the candles snuff out before rolling over in her bed. It was time for her to let go of the past and think of a future. With a deep sigh, she decided it was time for her to start dating again.

To Be Continued...

A/N Hi, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. The next will be in Harry's POV, I believe. This is NOT a Hermione/Draco, they only have a very close friendship, which comes in handy later on. If you don't like the ship Harry/Hermione, then I suggest reading another story. Thank you all for reading, please review!

Left Behind

Chapter Two

Harry Potter found himself strolling through the lush backyard of his beautiful three story house. After leaving London, where he and Hermione had been living in a quaint flat seven years prior, Harry had looked into the properties he owned through the Wills of Sirius, Dumbledore, and his parents. Finally, he settled on the incredible and huge mansion, which sat unplottable and at least two hours away from the public. Dobby had transferred over to his house to help him around the large area, bringing with him the trustworthy Winky. Since Harry never left his property, he found the backyard to be a sanctuary of types.

Lush trees and blooming flowers surrounded him, late March brought out the sweet scent of spring. He had spent hours creating this hidden palace away from the house. Needing a place where he could sit and relax, somewhere deeply peaceful, he had set out to create it all himself, with his very own hands. Growing up in the Dursley house had provided him with an understanding of weeds and some gardening, but he brushed up by reading every possible book on it. There was a handmade waterfall on one end, spilling into a pond filled with the most incredible fish. Exotic plants and flowers were woven through everything, creating a masterpiece equal to heaven itself.

Dobby often asked him why he needed his garden when the house was empty; sadly, that was the problem. While Harry needed somewhere quiet and away from everything, he hated being in such a huge house and hearing nothing but the echo of his feet. He had always wanted a family, and now it was as if he had missed out on it completely. It seemed absurd to think that, given that he was only twenty-four years old, but there was a part of him that blatantly yelled at him for his stupidity seven years before.

He had it all, but he had been far too thick to realize it. That wasn't to say he didn't love his life at the time; he had enjoyed almost every minute of it. Whether it was being able to play an innocent game of Quidditch with Ron, without worrying about an aerial attack of Death Eaters, or simply holding Hermione while she read one of her many tomes. The only part that bothered him was that he was never allowed to have that life; he was forced to explain himself everywhere. People all over wanted to know his every move, his every thought. It was just too much for him and finally he couldn't take it anymore.

Sweet and perfect Hermione, she had been his everything. All through seventh year, as he realized that whatever he had with Ginny had been his way of grasping at some sort of normality, he began to realize exactly what it was he had been blind to. The bright and beautiful witch standing by his side, willing to fight and even die for him, had always been right there. The only girl to ever see him as just Harry, and not Harry Potter - the boy-who-lived, had been his best friend and somewhere along the way his feelings for her changed. Whether it was during the Horcrux hunt, or during the final battle, he didn't know. But at one point, everything clicked.

Voldemort had him cornered, had him standing all alone and unable to escape. He laughed in his face, bringing up every horrible memory that could shatter Harry in every possible way. But as he stood there, listening to the Dark Lord taunt him continuously, he realized exactly what it was Dumbledore had been trying to teach him. Love was the key; it was supposed to unlock the power he knew not. He thought of his parents, tried to conjure up something that would be enough to truly kill the man who had ripped them away. He thought of the Weasley family and how all of them had played such a huge part in his life, shaping him to be who he was. And he remembered Sirius and every moment he shared with his sarcastic and witty godfather; including the pain that had consumed Harry over his death. Then, he settled on Hermione, and he found himself swimming in the deep emotions that connected him to the girl who had held his hand through the worst of times. And while the Killing Curse should've been fueled by hate, he used love instead, getting a much more powerful result.

He won that day, he saved every person that mattered to him and avenged those he would never get the chance to know. And while everyone cheered for him, while the people patted his back and cried out for his triumph, he was left standing with the two friends that had always been there. Ron had Luna, which Harry was happy for, considering he had been worried that perhaps Hermione and he would get together. Instead, Harry was left holding his best friend in his arms, as she sobbed with happiness, repeating over and over that she knew he could do it. He hadn't given it a second thought before he kissed her with everything he had in him. She tasted sweet, like strawberries and sugar. He never wanted to let her go; he wanted to hold onto her, cradling her in his arms as he kissed her for all eternity.

Had it not been for the overwhelming media attacks, he likely wouldn't have left. It became so bad that he couldn't even leave their flat though, which drove him completely nutters. It was the smallest thing that finally sent him over the edge though. Walking down the street, he was going to drop into the flower shop around the corner and pick up a few of Hermione's favorites, but became sidetracked. A girl about his age lept out at him, holding a piece of paper and a pen, asking for his autograph. When he kindly told her that he was in a huge hurry and on his way to pick something up for his girlfriend, she began crying. Not just a few tears either, she was outright sobbing and he had no idea why. She screamed at him then, telling him that he was her hero and she was muggleborn and that all she wanted was to meet the boy who had saved her and her kind. Before he could say anything, she turned around and told him she hated him, running off into the crowd, not hearing his apology. That was all it took; from ecstatic love to raging hate, they could turn so quickly. He just needed to get away; for how long, he didn't know. When he got back to the flat, he pulled out a couple sheets of parchment and tried his best to explain his reasoning to his best friend and then his girlfriend.

Hermione's letter had been much harder than Ron's, as he could really tell him the truth and apologize without having to get too emotional. With her though, he felt he owed her the entire truth. He could remember exactly what he wrote to her and even if he didn't, he had a copy of the letter which he kept tucked away in the pocket of his jacket. It took him an hour to scrawl out all that he had to say and still he felt it wasn't worthy of her. He regretted ever leaving, but after a couple years it became apparent that he couldn't just return. He had promised her though; vowed that he would return as soon as he felt things were right again. The words ran through his mind, repeating over and over, as if he was speaking them to her.

Love,

Don't panic, this isn't some kind of morbid suicide note. I guess in some sense it could be considered a goodbye, though I never really wanted to say that word to you. What we have, Hermione, I swear to you that it is all that truly matters. Growing up, I never understood the true power of love, but when I'm with you, it's as if everything bad in the world is null. I wake up some mornings and I see you sleeping there beside me, with a wisp of your hair laying across your cheek. I thank Merlin everyday that he gave me the chance to know you, let alone love you.

If I could live this life with you, I would. I would give anything for you and I to have the solitude and perfection that I think we deserve. If I knew that we could have our own lives, I would ask you to marry me this very moment. But we can't. We can't even walk out of door for bloody sakes. I need it to end, Mione, and the only way I think that will happen is if the world just gets over this Potter hysteria. I need to go away, I need to disappear from everything. Never from you though, you will always be kept inside my heart, away from prying eyes.

When this is all over, when I can live the life I've always wanted to, I will return. And I know that it sounds selfish and even conceited, but you must understand. I'm not leaving you and I dearly hope that I won't have to be away long. Please understand this; don't think that I'm trying to get away from you. I wanted us, Hermione. I wanted us to have it all. But right now, that's not a possibility.

I promise you, I will come back.

Forever yours,
Harry

He could only imagine what she had done when she returned home. She had gone to see a healer that afternoon, saying something about having an upset stomach lately. He knew it wasn't anything detrimental to her health, or he would've read about it somewhere. He had kept up with the Wizarding papers for the first while, but gave up when the titles all seemed to blur into one big sign. "Boy Savior Leaves." The people demanded that he be searched for, but his letter to Ron was enough to deter them. He stated that he was leaving for a much needed vacation and that there was no set time as to when he would be back. He didn't want people scouring the Earth for him though, as that would certainly ruin his away time.

Unfortunately, his away time had increased drastically. He didn't believe he would be away long, but one day he looked up to find that it had been years, not just months. The solitude of where he lived made time feel as if it were going in slow motion. So though he thought it had only been gone a couple years, Dobby informed him that it had actually been almost seven. As he sat in his perfect garden, he released a breath, and along with it came a realization. It was time; time for him to leave his quiet, reserved home, to join society again. It only seemed fitting really; seven years of torture from Voldemort as he went to Hogwarts and in return a seven year vacation from the Wizarding world.

Picking himself up from the cement bench he sat on, Harry walked barefoot across the lush grass to the back door of his house. Plucking an apple from the bowl sitting on the island of the kitchen, Harry wiped it clean on his shirt. Calling out for Dobby, around the large chunk of juicy fruit in his mouth, he chewed quickly and swallowed just as the small, trustworthy elf appeared.

"Yes, Harry Potter sir," Dobby said, grinning up at him with excitedly flapping ears. "Did Harry Potter want Dobby to make him some dinner?" he asked.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I was actually hoping you could do me a favor," he explained, kneeling down to Dobby's level. "I want to know the addresses of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley."

"Oh, is Harry Potter going to send something to his Wheezy and his Miss?" Dobby asked, then frowned. "But why wouldn't Harry Potter just use Hedwig?"

"Actually, Dobby, I'm going to visit them," he told him, smiling rather nervously.

The small elf's face widened with surprise. "But Harry Potter sir, you haven't left the property in seven years!"

"Well, perhaps it's time I do then," Harry said, nodding.

Grinning, Dobby nodded excitedly. "Dobby will go find Wheezy and Harry Potter's Miss right away!" With a pop, the house elf had disappeared quickly.

Sighing, Harry began walking upstairs to his room, deciding to pack his bags with his hands rather than use magic. Though he knew his wand couldn't be traced, he was still slightly apprehensive. Even if he was reentering the Wizarding world, if he had to leave again, he'd prefer that nobody knew where he was going. Picking out some of his casual muggle clothes and only a few of his Wizarding apparel, he packed them all away in a large suitcase. Grabbing his lavatory accessories, he threw them on top of his folded clothes.

Sitting back on his bed, he leaned over to let his head rest on the comfortable, feather pillow. Upon his night stand, where his gaze lie, he stared at a picture of him and Hermione. Wrapped in a silk burgundy robe, Hermione was sprawled out across their bed, half asleep. Climbing in beside her, Harry draped his arm over her back, playing with a long tendril of her hair. She would then roll over, gracing him with an adoring grin. His hand would graze across her stomach before slipping beneath her robe as he slid in close to kiss her deeply. Just before he pushed her robe off, the picture would restart itself; not letting it get too racy. He had charmed the camera to hover in the air, taking a sweet picture of them together.

Reaching out, Harry traced his finger over the angelic form of Hermione. He wondered briefly if she still thought of him; seeing as he had disappeared on her seven years before, he could only imagine how angry she would be when he walked back into her life. He became scared then, worried that she wouldn't return the feelings that he held tightly over the years. He never once lost any of the deep and strong love he felt for her. There was nothing to say that she hadn't moved on though. Perhaps she had a husband now, or even a family all her own. The idea of Hermione having a family with anyone but him both scared and hurt him. He couldn't blame her though; he couldn't ask her to sit blindly, pining away for him until the day he decided to come back. Even if some selfish part of him wished it was true.

Dobby appeared back in his room not long after, looking a little nervous. "Harry Potter's Wheezy lives in a place called, "The Nest," in Ottery St. Catchpole. Mrs. Wheezy tell Dobby that he is out of town for Quidditch game this weekend!"

"Molly was there?" Harry asked, smiling.

"No, Wheezy's wife Luna tell Dobby," he relied, shaking his head.

"His w-wife," Harry repeated, his eyes wide. "They got married," he said, more to himself.

"Yes," Dobby said, nodding emphatically. "Mrs. Wheezy was getting daughter ready for bed when Dobby arrive."

"They have a daughter!" Harry exclaimed, lifting a hand to his head as if he was taking in too much information for him to process. "How o-old?"

"Fives," Dobby reply, grinning. "Miss Jasmine Wheezy was very nice to Dobby!"

"Her name is Jasmine," Harry said, feeling like an idiot for repeating everything Dobby told him.

"Yes, and Wheezy's Luna told Dobby Harry Potter's Miss's address," Dobby exclaimed, his ears moving quickly. "Miss is going to London tomorrow for meeting but she'll be back by night time."

"T-Thank you, Dobby," Harry stuttered, still shocked.

Dobby's ears feel, as he looked rather upset. "Is Harry Potter still going to go?" he asked, hopefully

"Hmm?" he asked, stunned. "Er, yes, I'm still going. I'll just visit with Molly and Luna until Hermione gets back I suppose. Then I'll wait around until Ron arrives, or maybe go to his game, I'm not sure. I'm sure Molly wouldn't mind visiting with me though, and I haven't seen Luna in ages. The three of us could have a good time catching up."

"And Draco Malfoy," Dobby told him, nodding.

"Why would I visit with him?" Harry wondered, his brow furrowing.

"Because Draco Malfoy will be at Burrow with Wheezy's Luna and Jasmine," Dobby explained, nodding. "Draco Malfoy is wanting to spend time with his goddaughter, Maggie."

Harry snorted with disbelief. "Malfoy is a godfather," he said, shocked.

Dobby nodded with wide eyes. "Yes, Draco Malfoy is godfather to Maggie and to Jasmine! Harry Potter's Miss is Jasmine's godmother," he told him.

"She is?" Harry asked, smiling lightly. His brow furrowed again, however. "Who's this Maggie girl?" he asked.

"She's is-"

Winky appeared then, cutting Dobby off. "Winky must speak with Dobby," she told him, jumping back and forth on her feet. "Winky has done something Dobby usually does and Winky did it bad!"

Dobby stared at her before looking over at Harry, who simply nodded and told him it was all right for him to go. After the little house elf disappeared, Harry laid back down on bed and burrowed into the comfy blankets. Tomorrow he would be well on his way back to his friends; even if both of the important ones were out of town. At least he'd have a chance to brush up on what they'd been up to the last seven years, before he saw them. Inhaling deeply, he hoped that things would turn out good. Trying to quell the nauseous feeling in his stomach, he rolled onto his side, not for the first time noticing that the right side was empty of Hermione.

To Be Continued...

A/N Hope you liked this chapter, please review!

Left Behind

Chapter Three

Draco found himself at a standstill with his six year old god daughter; she was currently having a staring contest with him and winning. He had taught her well over the years, as this had been a regular occurrence between the two of them. Hermione was cooking them up a nice breakfast while they leaned on the kitchen table, staring each other down. He could feel his eyes pricking and knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He'd never lost before though and it seemed a surreal moment to know that perhaps she was about surpass him. Just as he was about to blink she gave out a sigh and blinked her eyes rapidly.

"You always win," she whined, sticking her bottom lip out.

"It's because I have silver eyes," he replied, grinning.

"Is not," she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Is too," he replied, nodding.

"Nu uh," she said, frowning.

"Ya huh," he told her, feeling only the slightest bit foolish for the childish banter.

"MUM!" she called out, crossing her arms and looking at him triumphantly. "Mum! Uncle Draco is lying!" she shouted.

"Tattle tail," Draco grumbled, silently smiling.

"About what now?" Hermione called back, clearly amused.

Draco snorted, rolling his eyes.

"He says he always wins because he has silver eyes," Maggie told her, sticking her tongue out at her godfather.

Chuckling, Hermione walked into the dining room, placing a plate down in front of both of them. "Draco, do you have any proof to back that up?" she asked, half-smiling.

"I haven't lost once," he told her, nodding shortly.

"And Maggie, do you have any proof that he isn't telling the truth?" she asked.

Clearly stumped, Maggie looked back and forth from her mother to her godfather. "What? Ugh! But- He's- That's not-" Shaking her head, she sent an annoyed glare at Draco before digging into breakfast.

"Maybe you can prove me wrong next time, Magpie," Draco told her, grinning.

"Right, well Molly just called. I told her you were bringing Maggie over so she didn't have to apparate out here," she informed him, sitting down with her own plate of fruit. "Try to be there soon though, because Luna is already on her way over with Jazzy."

"How fast do you expect us to eat? Luna lives like a two minute walk from Molly's," he reminded. "And what is wrong with the Floo system? Why haven't they connected it to this place yet?"

"I have no idea," Hermione replied, sighing. "I keep putting in applications and getting no word," she said, annoyed. "But apparating isn't going to hurt you. You've Side-Along apparated numerous times."

"I know, I'd just rather not take the chance with Magpie," he admitted, frowning

"It'll be fine," Hermione assured, spearing a piece of honeydew.

A half hour later, Draco found himself tapping his foot while he waited for Maggie to finish getting dressed. Hermione had left ten minutes prior, kissing Maggie goodbye and telling Draco to stay out of trouble. She promised to be back by dinner time and turned to half run her way out of the wards around her house so she could apparate to London. Finally, wearing an emerald green sun dress, Maggie emerged from her bedroom, holding a bag in her arms and looking mighty suspicious.

"What've you got?" Draco asked, trying his best to to look amused.

"Nothing," she told him, quickly, her eyes widening. "I'm just bringing this bag... for Jazzie... 'cause she likes it," she mumbled.

Snorting, Draco picked her up off the floor and stealthily stuck his hand inside the bag before she could stop him. His brow lifted and his mouth curled into a smirk. "Is that a broom I just found?" he asked. "It can't be the one I gave you for Christmas that your mum hid until you were at least ten, could it?"

Biting her lip, Maggie looked up, shaking her head. "No, it's... a different broom," she assured. "One mum didn't say I couldn't use."

Laughing, Draco rolled his eyes and pulled open the front door. "If you're going to fly, you had better make sure I'm around. Your mum would kill me if she found out I had let your go flying without supervision."

Nodding excitedly, Maggie grinned at him as he locked the front door and walked them a ways from the house to apparate them. In the blink of an eye, a pop could be heard, and they were standing just outside of the Burrow. Placing Maggie on the ground, Draco smiled as she ran off toward the house. The back door swung open, revealing a five year old Jasmine Weasley as she hurried to hug Maggie. Chuckling, Draco made his way around the two girls to walk into the Burrow, where he was almost immediately bowled over by Molly Weasley.

"Oh dear me," she exclaimed, hugging him tightly. "Why, I haven't seen you in far too long, Draco," she told him, shaking her head. Pulling back, she placed a hand on her cheek and smiled at him adoringly. "You're even more handsome than the last time I saw you," she told him, fawning. "Come now, there's lots of breakfast on the table, plenty for you to eat."

He considered telling her that he'd already eaten at Hermione's, but thought better of it. The moment he told her that he had eaten, she would get on him about how he looked thin and needed to eat more. He wasn't really thin, he just had a lean body. But it was only intelligent never to fight with Molly Weasley, especially when it came to her feeding a person. So he pulled up a chair beside Luna, who was absently picking at a blueberry muffin and reading The Quibbler, upside down.

"Hey Loon," he greeted, easily. There was a light slap over the head from Molly, reminding him not to use the nickname that could come off sounding rude. Rolling his eyes, Draco shrugged. "So Molly, how've things been 'round here?"

"Busy," she told him, nodding. "Arthur was promoted," she exclaimed, happily. "And Ron is off for another game. I haven't stopped worrying; Fred and George told me this next team is supposed to be really brutal."

"Really?" Draco asked, frowning. "I think they may have been pulling your leg. In fact, their next team is supposed to be an easy win for the Cannons," he assured.

"Oh those two," she grumbled, shaking her head. "They're always trying to frazzle my nerves."

"Well, now that they have families of their own, and know that their wives aren't about to let them pull pranks on them, you're really their only target," Draco reminded, sighing.

"That reminds me," Molly said, nodding. "When are you going to settle down and have a baby for me to fawn over?"

Usually, this would be the moment where Draco would groan and tell her that he was too young to become attached and raise a family, however with recent events that had changed. "Actually," he said, smiling slightly. "I've been thinking lately, and though I'm not seeing anyone exclusively, I have decided that maybe settling down wouldn't be so bad."

Shrieking excitedly, Molly practically leapt from her chair, telling him how excited she was that he was finally going to find a nice girl and have children. An hour later, she was still going on about how great it was going to be and what girls she knew he would get along with famously. He managed to pry himself away from her however, when Luna started a conversation about how she and Ron might be thinking of having another child soon. Making his way to the backyard, he found Jazzie and Maggie playing a game of tag between the two of them.

As soon as they saw him, they both charged at him with their arms out. "You're it! You're it!" they both shouted, patting his legs.

Grinning, he chased after them, lifting them up in the air and twirling them around as they giggled excitedly. "Who's it?" he asked, laughing. "Who's it?"

"We are!" they yelled, gleefully. "We are!"

Tickling them as they hung over his shoulders, he laughed along with them. Finally putting them down on the ground, he grinned at their flushed, giggling faces. Maggie begged to bring out her broom and Draco relented, telling her to go get it. Jazzie was far too young to go flying, but Luna said she could if she was on Draco's broom with him. He hadn't brought his, so he borrowed one from the closet in the Burrow. Maggie had a natural talent for flying, which really wasn't all that surprising, given her dad. She wasn't scared at all, unlike her mother; but she did have a tendency of going far too fast and scaring her mum every time. Which is why Hermione confiscated her broom until she was ten; then she'd have a year of practice before she left for Hogwarts.

It was hours before they finally came down from flying, when Draco had to practically drag his goddaughter away from the calming skies. She had been doing flips and hazardous spins, which would likely give Hermione a heart attack the second she found out, let alone saw it. By the time they landed however, Maggie was looking tuckered out. They walked into the Burrow, where they sat down for a nice lunch before scampering off to the living room to play Exploding Snap, while Luna watched.

"You know Draco," Molly told him, handing him a fourth sandwich. "There's a really nice girl who just moved in down the street," she informed him, winking suggestively. "Beautiful too."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "That's what you've said about the last fifteen girls you've suggested," he told her, shaking his head. "I'd much rather meet her on my own than be set up. Trust me, Molly, I'll find a girl for you to approve of."

Luna walked in then, cutting Molly off before she could reply. "Maggie fell asleep on the couch," she told him, sliding into a chair.

"You might want to move her upstairs dear," Molly warned him, frowning. "Fred and George are dropping by soon, said they have some news for us."

"Sure," Draco said, nodding. "I'll put her in Ron's old room," he informed them.

Walking into the living room, he slipped the small girl into his arms, brushing her dark hair off her face. With her eyes closed, Draco could forget for a moment that it was Potter's kid. He didn't have anything against Boy Wonder, except that he had completely abandoned Hermione during a time she needed him most. Though he wouldn't trade the time he had spent helping her with Maggie for anything, he knew that his little goddaughter deserved better than an uncle who traveled the world. She needed a father that was going to be there all the time; a permanent fixture in her life. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anger for the boy who had disappeared for his own selfish reasons.

As Draco passed the front door, making his way toward the stairs, he heard a knock. Finding it odd that the person didn't just Floo in, he decided to answer it himself. Adjusting Maggie so she was held up against his chest by only one arm, he opened the door quickly and then put his other arm back in place to keep her from falling. What he was met with nearly knocked the air right out of his chest. "What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to restrain his anger.

Clearing his throat, the man in front of him looked around rather awkwardly. "Er... Is Mrs. Weasley here?" he asked, biting his lip briefly.

Glancing down at the girl in his arms, Draco then glared at the uncomfortable boy in front of him. "Molly," he called out, careful not to wake Maggie up. "You are never going to believe who's at the door," he told her, frowning. "I hardly can," he said, more to himself than her.

Hurrying out of the kitchen, Molly stared at Draco, confused, before directing her gaze to the door. "Oh my lord," she gasped, lifting a hand to her chest. Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head. "It can't be," she said, shaking her head. "It just can't be."

Smiling nervously, Harry Potter stepped through the door and nodded silently to the ginger haired woman who though of him as another son.

Half running to him, Molly wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head. "You've come back," she exclaimed tearfully.

Shifting Maggie in his arms, Draco watched as Molly held an awkward Harry, who slowly seemed to fall back into the old ways as he hugged her back.

Luna had walked out to stand beside Draco, staring at Harry with mild interest. "I didn't think you'd show up so quickly," she admitted.

Draco turned to her sharply. "You knew he was coming?" he asked, slightly annoyed.

"Dobby came by last night," she explained, nodding. "Told me Harry was looking to drop in for a visit."

"Right," Draco said, glaring at the boy who was now standing beside Molly Weasley. "A visit. Well Potter, I'm so glad you could grace the rest of us with your ever so welcomed presence," he spat. "If you'll excuse me, my goddaughter would probably prefer to be sleeping in a bed right now." With one last piecing glare at the boy who had abandoned the girl in his arms, even if it was unknowingly, Draco stalked toward the stairs and hurried up them.

"What was that?" he heard Potter ask, confused.

"Oh Harry," Molly said, sadly. "You've missed so much!"

Shaking his head, Draco made his way into Ron's old room and placed Maggie down gently in the bed, tucking the blanket around her. Kneeling down beside her, he kissed her forehead and sighed. Seeing Harry actually scared him; he wanted Maggie to know her dad, he really did. He was just scared that if she did, he might pull another vanishing act on her and Hermione and he was sure that his best friend couldn't go through that again. There were a few underlying feelings of jealousy too; he couldn't help but feel special for being the most important guy in Maggie's life. But he understood that she needed a dad and he couldn't be that for her; he only hoped that Potter figured out what it was he was doing, and quick.

Making his way back down, Draco found Fred and George had arrived and were currently telling Potter all about their booming business, which had taken up residence all over the Wizarding world. They had certainly been doing good for themselves, except for one small problem a few years back when one of their stores had been accidentally blown up and they hadn't had the resources to rebuild it. Draco had lent a friendly hand then, giving them the money to create their store, which further placed him in high regard with the Weasley family.

Ever since the war he had a high standing with them; after saving both Molly and Ginny, they were incredibly grateful. He assured them, more times than he could count, that they really didn't have to pay him back in any way. Instead of giving him some kind of monetary reward or a life debt to one day save him back, they had welcomed him into their family. Being as he had been thrown out of his own, quite harshly, he was quite receptive to the hospitality they had shown. He and Ron ended up hitting it off very well and were close enough to be considered best friends, though Ron often said that he still considered Harry to be his best mate. Ginny was rather hesitant to trust him, though she thanked him profusely for saving her life. She had moved out years ago, moving in with her current fiance Neville Longbottom. Draco found her to be like a little sister, likely because of Ron. He enjoyed a few good natured jabs about her fiance and the happenings of Ginny's life. They were close, though it had taken some time for it to get there.

Arthur had known about his involvement with being a spy for the Order, so he had already had a chance to get to know him and enjoyed his company. Draco enjoyed Arthur's rants about Muggle artifacts and whenever he was moved to another country, he was sure to pick up another contraption for the nice man. Draco found the three eldest Weasley's weren't around much, but that didn't stop him from having a rather rocky relationship with Percy Weasley, who he found to be unbearably annoying. Bill was quite the opposite though and Draco found he quite enjoyed talking to him about many world wide things. Charlie wasn't too bad either, though Draco had to admit he saw him the second least over the years. All in all though, he was quite close with most of the Weasley's, which was a very important part of his life.

Sliding on to the couch, he half listened as George and Fred went on about their business ventures, glancing at Molly to see her watching Harry tearfully. Luna was braiding Jazzy's red hair, while absently humming, "Weasley is our King," to herself. Draco eyed the clock, noting that Hermione was bound to be showing up within a few hours.

"Draco," Fred called out, cheerfully. "Brother, I had no idea you were here!" he exclaimed. "George, did you know that Draco had returned from France?" he asked.

"I had no idea," George replied. "Now that we know he is though, Fred, what do you suppose he's brought us?" he asked, excitedly.

"It must be something good," his brother replied, nodding.

"Better than those jawbreakers that turn into black licorice spiders filled with jelly? D'you remember how scared Ron was when the spider began runnin' round his mouth?" he asked, grinning.

"That was quite a sight," Fred agreed, smirking.

"Well, what is it then?"" George asked, his brows perking.

Draco shook his head, sighing. "Fraid I left my bags at Hermione's," he told them, shrugging. "I'll bring your gifts 'round your houses tomorrow though," he assured.

Frowning, the twins seemed to sag with a moment of disappointment. As quickly as it happened though, they were just as soon back to being happy. "So tell us Harry, where were you then?" Fred asked, excitedly.

"Yes, the whole Wizarding world wants to know," George agreed, nodding. "Where has our savior hidden himself all this time?"

"No, let me guess," Fred said, nodding. "You took to visiting every nude beach you could find," he suggested.

Molly scoffed in the background, opening her mouth to retort, but George jumped in with another possibility. "You moved into the woods, where you built your own house out of trees and lived off the land!"

Draco couldn't help but snort at that one, rolling his eyes at the absurdity.

Before either of them could say anymore, Harry held up his hands. "I was just staying in a normal home; away from the media. That's it," he told them, nodding.

"Right, it must've been so bloody terrible for you," Draco commented, not the least bit sympathetic. "A life of fame and glory for saving the world, must've just irked you to no end. Everybody was in love with you, you were dating an incredible girl, you had the best friends you could ask for. Bloody hell, why didn't you leave earlier?" he half-shouted, angrily.

"Draco," Molly scolded, though it didn't hold much conviction.

"What is your problem Malfoy?" Harry asked, his eyes thinning. "What do you care that I left? How does it bother you in the least?" he wondered, crossing his arms.

"You're right, Potter," Draco said, standing up from the couch. "It has absolutely nothing to do with me." Shaking his head, he turned to look at Molly. "I think I'm going to take Maggie home. If Hermione comes here first, tell her where we are, please," he asked.

"Oh no," Molly said, standing from her seat. "Draco, don't go," she told him, shaking her head.

Crossing the room, Draco hurried upstairs to get the little girl who was still napping soundly. Waking her up, he explained to her that they were going to be leaving early. Nodding tiredly, she stood up and took his hand. Since she was half asleep, he hefted her up on his side and walked downstairs. Molly was standing by the door, wringing her hands worriedly. Maggie had buried her head in Draco's neck, half asleep. Her arm was wrapped around his shoulder, her fingers absently playing with his hair like she had done when she was just a baby.

"I'm sorry Molly," he told her, shaking his head. "But I really can't stand him, and I'm not sure Hermione would be okay with this," he told her, pointedly.

"I," Molly sighed, defeatedly. "I understand," she told him, nodding.

"Why wouldn't she?" Harry asked, apparently overhearing.

"Didn't anyone tell you that eavesdropping is rude?" Draco snapped.

Maggie lifted her head then, tired but worried. "What's wrong?" she asked, staring at her godfather. "Uncle Draco, why are you angry?"

"Nothing sweetie," he said, running his hand over her hair. "Just go back to sleep," he told her, directing her head back down to his shoulder.

Snorting, Harry shook his head.

"What?" Draco asked, annoyed, glaring at the boy across from him.

"I just never imagined you would be good with kids," he admitted, half-smirking.

"Draco practically raised Maggie as his own daughter," Luna broke in, walking over to stand across from Molly, who was trapped between the two boys. "He was there through those classes, with the breathing." She frowned, looking over at Draco. "What were those called again?"

"Lamaze," he supplied.

"Right, those classes," she told Harry, nodding. "He was there to help Maggie's mum through all of it. Morning sickness, food cravings, mood swings, and he managed through when she gave birth too." Frowning again, she tipped her head. "Unlike Ron, who passed out," she admitted, sighing. "He did the same when I gave birth to Jasmine too," she admitted, shaking her head. "They reenervated him though and all was good," she said, cheerily.

"So you were a regular stand in dad," Harry commented, looking slightly amused. "Never thought you the type."

There was an obvious strain on the room then, with everybody falling silent.

"Yeah, well Maggie's dad wasn't exactly the greatest guy," Draco retorted, becoming angry.

"Draco," Molly said, shaking her head sadly.

"No," he said, glaring straight at Harry. "He left Maggie's mum when she was only a month pregnant," he explained, nodding. "Real selfish git," he told him, grimacing. "Always thinking of himself, never about anyone else. Had a gorgeous, intelligent girlfriend, but he only cared about his own bloody problems," he spat, shaking his head.

"Draco," Luna interrupted, biting her lip. "Com'on now."

Shaking his head, he ignored her. "So while he was off, enjoying his little vacation from the real world, I was the one helping her through it all," he said, stepping forward. "I was the one she called when she was upset. I was the one who held her hair back every single morning. And I was the one who rubbed her feet because she wasn't used to the extra weight," he told him, visibly shaking from rage. "That woman has done nothing but raise the most incredible daughter alive, and y- he couldn't spare a god damn moment to write one fucking letter to her!" he shouted, shaking his head.

Maggie began crying then, her arms tightening around Draco's neck.

Immediately, Draco grimaced, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry baby," he whispered, running his hand over her hair. "Shh," he murmured, rocking her.

"Why didn't he want me?" she asked, hiccuping.

Sighing, Draco's anger completely dissipated. Kneeling down, Draco placed her on the floor, cupping her face and looking straight into her green eyes. "What did I tell you about your daddy, Magpie?" he asked.

"Y-You said he loved me," she told him, inhaling sharply. "That he didn't know it, but he did 'cause nobody could have me for a daughter and not love me," she said, tears slipping down her cheeks. "But I don't think he does, Uncle Draco," she told him, shaking her head. "Because he's not here! He's away, he's still on vacation. Mummy told me so!"

"I know, sweetie," Draco told her, rubbing her tears away gently. "But maybe your daddy isn't so far away after all," he suggested, feeling slightly worried when she brightened up.

"Will you find my daddy?" she asked, smiling. "Will you bring him back from his vacation?" she wondered, hopefully.

Wincing, Draco looked up at Molly, who was crying while shaking her head. "I-"

"Molly? Draco?" a female voice called out. "I was finished early, I thought I'd..." Hermione walked through the front door, coming around to find Maggie wiping away her tears and smiling at her godfather. "Maggie, darling, what's wrong?" she asked, kneeling down beside her best friend, not noticing the raven haired boy across from them.

"Mummy," Maggie exclaimed, hurrying over to her. "Uncle Draco is going to find daddy for me," she told her, hugging her tightly.

"He what?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. She turned to her best friend, who was grimacing.

Draco shook his head at her, before tipping it over to the shocked boy standing across from them. He watched as her face widened with both fear and shock. Turning, he stared at Potter, who looked like he had just been hit with the Cruciatius curse.

"Yeah," Maggie continued, nodding happily. "It's okay, right? I can see him if uncle Draco finds him, right?" she wondered. Finding that her mum wasn't responding, but instead staring at someone behind her, she stopped talking. Slowly, Maggie turned around, looking over at the stranger in the room, with mild interest. "Who are you?" she asked, tipping her head.

"I'm Harry," he replied, his tone detached, as if he was deep in thought.

"That's my daddy's name," she told him, walking forward innocently. Holding up her hand, she smiled at him. "My name is Magnolia Potter," she introduced herself. Wrinkling her nose, she frowned. "I like Maggie better. Uncle Ron calls me Mags though and uncle Draco calls me Magpie," she informed him, nodding. "Mummy calls me Maggie, but when she's mad or telling me to do something she calls me Magnolia," she continued. Inhaling deeply, she looked around at everyone. "Are you going to shake my hand?" she wondered, her hand still held out.

Harry seemed to be choking on words, but he held out a quivering hand, taking hers in it gently. Slowly, he fell to his knees in front of her, still grasping her small palm in his. "What's your name again?" he asked, whispering.

"Maggie Potter," she told him, whispering to match his tone.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Potter closed his eyes before covering them with his other hand.

"Are you okay, Harry?" she asked, worried. Her little hand reached out, covering the one over his eyes. "Don't cry," she told him. "Mummy, Harry is crying," she told her, frantically. "What should I do?" she asked. "Oh! Oh, I know!" she told him, hopping slightly. "Whenever uncle Draco wants to cheer me up, he takes me flying," she exclaimed. Tugging on his hand, she pulled it from his face, revealing his wet and red eyes. "Do you want to, Harry? Do you want to go flying with me?" she asked, excitedly.

Draco felt a tug at his heart; knowing Hermione must be upset, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His best friend shook sadly beside him before resting her head on his shoulder, burying her eyes in his shirt. She'd let out a sobbing noise whenever her daughter said anything to the man she didn't realize was her father. Draco watched intently as Harry stared into his own eyes inside his little girl. He felt a brief stab of regret for saying what he had earlier, but it was quickly forgotten. He sat in anticipation, hoping that his little goddaughter would get her wish; to meet her dad, to fly with him, and hopefully to have him around for a long time. It was all up to Harry now.

To Be Continued...

Left Behind

Chapter Four

Maggie's question hung in the air, waiting to be answered. The entire room had fallen silent, waiting, watching for the interaction of a man and his daughter to begin. It was obvious that Harry knew this was his daughter, not just from her name but simply by looking at her. Those green eyes were unmistakable; his eyes. For six years, she had been the adorable Potter daughter that brightened the Burrow, along with the lives of the Weasley family. She, like Harry, Hermione, and now Draco, was an honorary member. While the twins, Luna, and Molly watched hopefully for the little girl, Hermione was left in tears on Draco's shoulder.

She was beautiful; in that moment, Harry knew what Molly had always meant when she spoke of loving her children unconditionally for no reason but that they were hers. Here stood a mixture of him and Hermione, in all of her perfection and she couldn't possibly be more beautiful. She was so small and yet it hurt to know that she had been much smaller and he hadn't had the chance to be there for any of that. He would never know what it was like to hold her as a baby or see her do any of the things Draco had. He wasn't there for first words or steps; nor diaper changing or late night calls for her parents. He had come home to find he had left behind a whole life; one that had grown six years without him. He had the urge to hug the child in front of him, to cry for the days lost, but something held him back. Perhaps it was knowing that she had no idea who he was, or maybe he just wasn't ready to spill that much emotion when he hadn't even had a chance to explain himself.

Harry opened his mouth to reply to his daughter request of going flying, when the fire roared to life and out stepped a man.

"Where're my incredible nieces?" called out a kind-hearted, familiar voice.

"Uncle Remus," Maggie exclaimed, brightening considerably. "Come see my new friend Harry," she shouted to him. "Tell him he should come flying with me."

Everybody in the Burrow turned to see Remus Lupin slowly walk across the living room until he stood gaping near Harry and Maggie. He looked considerably better than he had when Harry had been attending school. His clothes were clean and well taken care of, his face had lost much of its sadness and tired demeanor. He looked years younger than even his real age, which was quite a feat given he had always looked much too old for his age. He shook his head, his eyes wide and shocked. "What- When- Is it really you?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

Swallowing, Harry nodded at him, staring into his watery eyes.

"Wotcher Weasley's," came a distinct female voice. Nymphadora Tonks stepped up beside Remus, staring at him worriedly. "What's wrong, darling?" she asked. Turning her head, she too stared at Harry in surprise. "Oh my..." she said, blinking rapidly. "Harry," she said, almost unsure if she was correct.

"Hello Tonks," he said, trying to smile.

"Well, this is just a regular family reunion," Draco broke in, relieving some of the tension.

"Draco," Remus greeted, turning to him. "You're back from France," he noted, nodding. "I was sure they were going to keep you another week," he told him, shaking his head.

"Mm, darling I told you he asked to be released early," Tonks reminded, tugging his hand. "Auror or not, he has a right to a week off before he gets into the swing of things 'round here."

"Yes, quite," Remus said, nodding. His eyes ran over the room, seemingly trying to avoid looking at Harry. Clearing his throat, he looked over at Molly, nodding, and then turned to Tonks to whisper something private in her ear. A moment later he disappeared from the room; Harry couldn't help but notice that the haunting look that hadn't been there when he first arrived seemed to creep back in.

"I'm guessing he's not happy to see me," Harry said, more to himself.

"He's not the only one," Draco replied, getting a few annoyed glanced which he pointedly ignored.

"Are you going to be reacting that way the entire time I'm here?" Harry asked him, glowering.

"Depends how long you're staying," he shot back, looking over at Maggie who was standing beside Harry but staring at the spot her uncle Remus had been, curiously. A moment later, she ran off to join him wherever he had gone, leaving everybody watching her go.

"I really don't think I have to answer to you," he told him, annoyed.

"No, just everyone who matters to me," Draco said, frowning. "You know, those people who used to matter to you," he reminded, sharply.

"What would you know, Malfoy?" Harry asked, unable to hide the hurt the words had caused.

Sighing, Draco tipped his head. "Let's see," he said, nodding. "While you were hiding out in your mansion somewhere, I was here consoling everybody you decided to leave behind. No letters to tell them you were okay, no contact whatsoever. Just one goodbye letter to Ron and Hermione and you were set to go. Who cares about Molly, or Remus, or everybody else who stood beside you? Who cares about the daughter you had on the way, but didn't stay around long enough to find out about? Who cares that you just fucked up everybody's life because you were being a selfish prick!" he half-shouted.

"It was complicated," Harry told him, his voice shaking.

"No, Potter, you made it complicated," Draco told him, standing up from the floor and taking Hermione with him. Shaking his head, he glared down at the world's savior. "I knew this would happen," he said. "I knew that you would show up one day, expecting everybody to just accept what you did. To just walk back in here thinking everything was going to be fine." Clenching his teeth, he stared at the man on the ground with unrestrained anger. "I don't care if you were tired of the media, or if Skeeter herself was tailing every minute of your messed up life. That little girl in there needed a father, and all you had to do was pick up a soddin' quill and scrawl a letter to your ex girlfriend. Because of you, she had to grow up reading a book about the man who was supposed to be there."

Turning, Draco looked at Molly and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he told her. "But I think it's best if I at least take Hermione home." She simply nodded at him silently. Walking across the room, he smiled at Tonks briefly who reached out to squeeze his hand. "Fred, George, I'll see you guys tomorrow," he told them.

Harry climbed off the floor, keeping his eyes off of anyone around him before walking to the kitchen where he knew Hermione and Draco had gone to fetch Maggie from Remus. He stopped at the door, watching the interaction between the four people. He had almost opened his mouth to say something but couldn't help wondering how his father's best friend and the man who had been like an uncle to him treated someone like Draco or even his daughter for that matter.

Remus sat in a chair near the table, with Maggie sitting in his lap as she patted his shoulder, telling him everything was going to be okay. He simply smoothed his hand over her hair, nodding absently. Draco kneeled down beside Remus and Maggie, taking the little girl's hand in his and wiggling it around, causing her to giggle.

"He came back," Remus choked out, staring out in shock.

"Please don't get your hopes up Remus," Draco told him, sighing. "Look, I know you've been searching for him for years, and maybe this is a good sign. But friend, I know you can't take it again if he disappears. Tell me you are not going to throw yourself head first into this. Take your time, find out if this is just a visit or a... long term event." Wrapping his arms around Maggie, Draco hauled her up against his chest before placing a hand on Remus' shoulder. "Why don't you come over to the house tomorrow night for dinner," he suggested. "Last time I checked, Hermione could make a mean meatloaf," he told him.

Chuckling, Remus looked up at him, nodding. "That sounds great," he accepted. "'Dora and I wanted to talk to you about something big anyway."

"Wonderful," Draco said, nodding. "Be there 'round six."

"Of course," he agreed. "You better take her home," he said, nodding at Hermione who was still crying silently but staring out at an unknown place.

Sighing, Draco shook his head, wrapping his arm around her waist tightly. "If he..." Trailing off, his face turned into a look of deep anger.

"I know, son," Remus said, nodding. "I know."

Harry watched as Draco slipped out the back door, walking away from the wards around the Burrow as he apparated them away. He wondered briefly, why it was that they apparated and didn't floo, but then decided it was likely because Draco didn't want him to know Hermione's address. Sighing, he was caught being pulled in all directions. Part of him wanted to go back to Molly because he knew she'd be accepting enough, while another part wanted to go to Remus. Finally, he decided to leave his father's best friend to his thoughts and slipped back into the living room. Fred and George had left, leaving Luna, Tonks, and Molly sitting on the couches.

"Well," he said, sighing. "This wasn't exactly what I had expected," he admitted.

"A lot has changed," Molly told him, her expression one of sorrow. "I know Draco came off sounding quite harsh-"

Harry snorted, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair he had slumped into.

"You don't understand, dear, Draco is like... a son to me," she tried to explain. "After the war, after you left, he became a-"

"Replacement," Harry said, intending to think it, but accidentally admitted it outloud.

Molly's face contorted with horror as she shook her head. "Oh Harry, we could never, would never, replace you." Sighing remorsefully, she wrung her hands. "That was never our intention. He was just... He was there and he wanted to help. He was there for Hermione, for Ron. For all of us. We didn't know anything Harry. We had no idea where you were or how you were doing. Remus spent years searching the world for you," she continued, shaking her head sadly. "You just... you don't know how hard it was. How long it took for anybody to feel... the least bit normal."

"I'm sorry," he told her, feeling tears well in his eyes. "I- I didn't know," he said, quietly.

"It's a little hard to if you never try and get a hold of any of us," Luna told him, though her tone wasn't anywhere as accusing as Draco's. "We don't hate you... okay, well everyone but perhaps Draco doesn't," she said with a small chuckle. "You left a lot of people though, Harry. You hurt a whole lot of people who really care about you." Sighing, she stood up, picking a yawning Jazzie up with her. "Don't expect this to be easy, because I can assure you it won't." Turning to Molly, she leaned down to kiss her cheek. "My little one is getting tired, so I think I'll be off too." Turning back to Harry, she shrugged. "If you need a place to stay, though I'm sure Molly will gladly house you, I have a spare room at least until Ron comes home. I'm not quite sure how he'll react," she admitted.

Harry nodded, not sure what to say. "Thank you," he mumbled, quietly.

Luna smiled at him briefly before walking out the front door with a half-asleep red head cradled against her shoulder.

Tonks stared at him for a moment before walking toward him to kneel down and stare through squinted eyes.

"That's rather unnerving," Harry told her, squirming.

"Well, you can put up with it for a moment, can't you?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. "Your scar is almost completely gone," she noted.

Lifting his hand unconsciously, he touched his lightning bolt reminder. "Yeah, it faded a lot after Voldemort died, but it never healed completely."

"Hmm," Tonks said, nodding. "Well," she told him, smiling. "Are you going to give me a hug, or do I have to force you into one?" she asked.

Chuckling, Harry stood from his chair, wrapping her in a tight embrace. He had been rather stupid thinking that he could really just walk back into everyone's lives as if nothing had changed. After all, he wanted the Wizarding world to move on, how could he expect his friends not to? He had just been shocked by how much everything had changed. Draco was a beloved honorary family member of the Weasley’s and apparently even Remus. He had raised Maggie as his own practically, while Harry had been off ignoring the world selfishly. In some ways, Draco was completely right to yell at him like he did; he had made a lot of valid points. Which just further irked Harry; if Draco Malfoy could actually yell at him with good reason, he must've made unimaginable mistakes. Of course, that was pretty obvious; given he had a six year old daughter that he had no idea lived. There was so much to wrap his mind around, it almost scared him enough to make him go running back to the solitude of his house. But then her eyes ran through his mind; those beautiful green eyes of his little girl and he immediately knew that there was no way he could leave her behind, not again. Not now that he knew she existed; he only had to find a way to make himself part of her life.

"He'll come around," Tonks told him, patting his shoulder comfortingly. "It's just been really hard on him."

"I never meant to disappear on him. I just- It was so hard being in the public all the time. I needed a break. I had no idea it had been so long though," he admitted, sighing.

"I'm afraid you're going to have a lot of apologies to hand out," Molly told him, coming over to hug him again when Tonks let him go.

"I know," he said, sighing. "Do you think... Ron will be okay with me?" he wondered, frowning.

"Well," Molly said, glancing at Tonks. "I don't think he'll hit you," she said, making it sound like a wonderful improvement. "To be quite honest with you Harry, there are only three people who could possibly tell you what Ron thinks about you."

"Luna and Hermione," he listed easily, nodding. "I have no idea who the third is, unless he has a new best mate I don't know of," he said, chuckling.

Looking uneasy, Molly looked away briefly. "Well..."

"Really?" he asked, shocked. "I never thought- I mean, I knew he'd have friends, but a best mate..."

"After you left he was in a real bad way," Tonks explained. "And just like with everyone else, Draco was there-"

"Draco," Harry exclaimed, shaking his head. "You have got be kidding me," he said, shaking his head. "Ron bloody well hates Malfoy."

Sighing, Molly shook her head. "You don't know Draco, Harry. You never had the chance to really get to know him because you were, well you left," she reminded, quietly. "He pulled Ron out of his funk, managed to not only get him back to laughing, but actually convinced him to get back into Quidditch. He arranged his tryouts for the Chudley Cannons, giving him the opportunity to play professionally," she told him, smiling. "He's even Jazzy's godfather. He's very close with Luna and Ron; practically a brother to them both." Cupping Harry's cheek she shook her head. "You were never replaced but after you were gone, we didn't know what to do with ourselves."

"So you moved Malfoy in to cheer everyone up?" he asked, becoming angry. "How long did it take for him to take my best friend and turn him into his own? How long was it before he had you all laughing and back to normal? When did he move in and take Hermione's heart, along with my daughter," he wondered, grimacing.

"You left, Harry," Remus suddenly called out, causing the young man to turn around. "You left all of us," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "You can't blame Draco for being there, and you can't be angry with the rest of us for trying to get on with our lives." Stepping forward, he stared at Harry, almost desperately. "You just up and disappeared on so many of us; leaving us with nothing but a scrap of parchment asking for our understanding," he reminded, shakily. "You missed marriages, children, friendships. You weren't there when Ron stood at the altar with Luna, but Draco was; he had a best man's speech ready. Or when he spent days locked away with bottles of firewhiskey, but Draco was; he managed to take it away from him and sober him up. Or when Ron had given up all hope of ever playing Quidditch or becoming an auror, because he couldn't do it without you; but Draco was, he convinced him to keep going for his dreams.

"You weren't there when the twins business exploded, but Draco was; he paid for them to rebuild it. He helped them assess the damages, and decide what they wanted done to the new building. And he didn't ask for one dime back, because they were like brothers to him and he could care less what it cost. Instead, he took them out for butterbeers the night it happened, cheered them up, and wrote up a new contract for an even better store all for them.

"You weren't around when Molly got sick, but Draco was; and he held her hand in the most expensive room at St. Mungo's. While she was ill and stuck with healer, he took care of the Burrow, taking weeks off of his job to keep up her home. He cooked dinner for Arthur, he babysat Fred and George's kids, and he spent time sitting with her while everybody else was busy working.

"You weren't there when I married Dora, but Draco was and he stood beside me, telling me I had finally made it to the best point in my life. While I stared at the spot beside him, thinking you should be there, he told me that somewhere you were proud. Somewhere, you knew that I had finally got my act together and married Tonks. He was likely only saying it to cheer me up, because he sure as hell doesn't like you, but that's what I needed, Harry. I needed you there, but he made up for you not being there. He can't replace you, but he was able to make it hurt so much less that you couldn't spare a moment of your life to be there for me.

"And you weren't there when Hermione held Magnolia for the first time. After sixteen hours of labour, when she lay there crying, holding this tiny bundle or you and her in her arms. You didn't have to hear her sob about how she wished you were there, how she wished you could see your daughter. But Draco was, he stroked her hair and held her until she cried herself to sleep. And he carried that little girl out to show the entire Weasley family and me and Dora, while we all waited to see the newest Potter child, in all of her beautiful glory.

"You left us Harry," he told him, angrily, now crying. "You left us to live out our lives without you. And you can blame it on the media, you can tell us it was because you needed peace and quiet. But nothing and no one ever stopped you from writing one damn letter. Just one note to say that you were okay and maybe even a little sorry that you couldn't be around. I searched for you; I looked all over for years. I put off having children with Dora because I didn't want to be away with them while I looked for you," he admitted. "I wanted you to be there, to know my son or daughter. But I couldn't find you anywhere," he told him, shaking his head. "And now, now you're here. And I don't know what to think," he said, the last word coming out a hurt whisper. "I want to hug you and tell you I'm glad your back, but I'm so angry with you that I can hardly look at you."

Clenching his jaw, he closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a shuddering sigh. "You can't do this to people, Harry. If you're here for good, then I hope that we can repair what's happened. But if you plan on walking out in a few days, weeks, or months time, then save us all and just leave now."

Harry stared at him in shock, tears slipped out of his eyes the entire time. "I- I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice shaking.

"You can tell us if you're planning on staying," Molly told him, wiping her eyes. "Please Harry, we deserve to know. Is this really a visit, or are you here for good?" she wondered.

To Be Continued...

A/N Hope you enjoyed this. Please review!

Left Behind

Chapter Five

Draco placed Maggie on the ground while he half-carried Hermione upstairs to her bedroom. Maggie, not completely understanding what was happening waited, fidgeting, by the bedroom door. After placing Hermione on top of her bed, Draco sighed, looking over at his goddaughter. "Magpie, will you do uncle Draco a favor?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.

Maggie nodded, smiling though her eyes kept darting to her mum worriedly. "Will it help mummy?" she wondered.

"Yeah, sweetie, it's gonna help your mum," he told her, smiling briefly. "I need you to give uncle Draco and your mum some time to talk. So I want you to go and read in your room for awhile okay? Why don't you check out that book I sent you last week?"

"Okay," she agreed, grinning. "Can I come see her later?" she asked, thoughtfully.

"Of course," Draco told her, smiling. "Just give me some time to cheer her up, okay?"

Maggie nodded, turning to hurry down the hall to her bedroom.

Sighing, he closed the bedroom door and crossed the room to lie down beside Hermione. Her eyes were closed but brightly red rimmed, with tears slipping out the tightly shut lids. Her jaw was clenched, leaving her mouth looking puckered in agony, more from her emotional state than physical. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her, while her knees were brought halfway up; making her look like she was curling into herself.

Reaching out, he brushed her soft hair off her cheek, wiping her tears. She shuddered then, letting out a thick sob before she let her arms drop and moved over to huddle up against him. Hugging her, he rubbed her shaking back, letting her get it all out. In six years, he had to do something similar to this far too often. Because of Harry Potter, boy-who-lived-to-break-people's-hearts, Draco had been left picking up the pieces of numerous people's lives. More so Hermione than most though; given that she was completely and utterly in love with him and pregnant at the time. In the beginning, when he came across her looking desolate and alone, he had the distinct feeling in his stomach that he was in way over his head. But somehow, everything turned out for him.

His life had been anything but ordinary; from when he was a small child he had been bred to hate everything Hermione stood for. He had been raised to live for Voldemort and his beliefs, but while attending school that had changed. Without his father's ever commanding voice telling him what he had to do, and seeing the way the Golden Trio so selflessly fought for their side, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps he had been fed lies all along. Speaking with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and even Arthur Weasley, he had learned the error in his ways. Of course, he wasn't about to shout this from the school tables at lunch time or anything. Instead, he decided to use his position in a much better way, by becoming a spy for the Light side. Unlike Severus Snape, he was fully committed to the good side, though he was quite cunning at hiding it.

After the War, and after he had proved to everybody that he was really a good guy, he had tried his best to find his place in the new world. He wasn't really a Malfoy anymore, as his family had disowned him very obviously. Even with his father gone, his mother wasn't one for forgiving. They hadn't been quick enough to take away his inheritance however, as Lucius had died before he could change his will. Making Draco basically the second most wealthy man in all of the Wizarding world; coming next only to Harry Potter himself. But riches weren't going to get rid of his loneliness, so he had worked hard to make himself new friends and create a new image. It all seemed like it was a miss, except for Hermione. She had accepted his new self and they had been known to attend an easy going lunch or two, or discuss books on occasion. It wasn't until he found her sprawled out on her floor that day that her beloved Harry had left that everything became better for him.

It was hard in the beginning, as he'd never really had to care about anyone but himself. With Hermione broken and pregnant however, he had pushed away his own needs and focused solely on her. Which involved a whole lot more than he had thought it would; from late night cravings, to long conversations about why she was definitely a worthy reason for Harry to just get over the fame and live happily, he had been with her wholly. He spent most of his time staying with her and ended up moving out of his mansion on the edge of town and taking up on her couch so he could be there for her in the last few months of her pregnancy.

During the time that he was taking care of her, he found Ron was coming around to make sure she was okay. However, he was battling his own case of abandonment and Draco often found him drunk off Firewhiskey. Finding that wasn't what Hermione needed, he took care in making sure Ron was always sober in Hermione's presence. After the few couple months of finding Ron in this state, coming by to see how his best friend was doing and muttering about best mates who were real bastards, Draco finally decided that one of the heroes of the Wizarding world should not be living like this. He apparated over to Ron's house at three in the afternoon, finding the ginger-haired Weasley slurring and blearily glaring at him from the couch. He remembered the day with a sad fondness.

"Wha're you doin' 'ere?" Ron asked, trying his best to get off the couch he was slumping on, a thick growth settling over his jaw from lack of shaving.

"I'm," he replied, rather condescendingly because he hadn't learned to get it out of his voice yet, "giving you another chance at life."

"Wha?" the boy wondered, managing to get himself up and keeping himself there by leaning against the brown couch.

"Look, Weasley," Draco said, walking into the kitchen and pulling out every bottle of alcohol he could find, which was a considerate amount. "Potter's gone, I get it. Believe me, I do. I've spent months consoling Hermione and keeping you from upsetting her more-"

"I'd never hurt Mione," he replied, indignantly. "I'm not the one who jus' lef'. I still come by t'see her. T'make sure she's okay now tha' she's havin' a baby," he reminded, shaking his head. "I care about her, she's my best mate! I w'never leave her behind because of some stupid soddin' problem with the media!" he spat.

"Mhmm," Draco said, cocking his brow. "All right, I want you to tell me exactly how long it's been since you've been sober of your own accord."

Ron glared at him, but seemed to appease him as he picked his hand up and started counting off of it. Five minutes later, and a lot of confused looks on Ron's part, Draco shook his head with an annoyed huff.

"Look at yourself," he half-shouted. "You bloody well helped save the Wizarding world and now you're living an angry existence consisting of muttering, drinking, and pissy shouting."

"I hav' no'," Ron replied, swaying on his feet.

"When was the last time you spoke to your mum?" Draco asked, unscrewing a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Not long ago," Ron told him, making a triumphant face.

"Really? Because her last letter to Hermione stated that she hadn't seen you in seven weeks," Draco told him, taking a sip from the bottle simply because he knew that it was going to be a long day, before he dumped the rest of the contents down the sink.

"Eh!" Ron shouted, working his way forward. "Tha's mine!" he exclaimed, reaching out but missing by at least five feet.

Rolling his eyes, Draco emptied the bottle before walking over and pushing Ron back into a chair. "Sit down and shut up," he told him.

Walking back to the sink, he continued to pour out another bottle of some muggle alcohol he didn't recognize. "He's been gone for a couple months now and you're not getting any better. He's a prat, he left, you're pissed. It's all very simple," Draco told him, shrugging. "With Hermione, I give her a much more subdued speech, because she tends to be emotional and she needs more of a kind heart, rather than a swift kick in the arse," he said, nodding.

"I don'-"

"Shut up," Draco interrupted. "I'm not done." Sighing, he threw the empty bottle into the sink next to the one he had emptied it in and picked up another. "I get that you're angry; you've been friends for seven years, you've followed him into more adventures that could get you killed than any of you can remember, and he just leaves with some stupid letter about how he needs space and understanding."

Ron snorted, leaning back in the chair with his blood shot, dark marked eyes half-closed due to being a whole lot more than just three sheets to the wind.

"And it probably hurts," he admitted. "I know I'd be more than a little upset if my best mate up and ditched like that," he said, knowing he sounded nowhere near as heartfelt as he did with Hermione. "But, for bloody sakes Weasley, you're better than this. Look at what you've still got," he reminded. "Your whole family is alive; you should be thanking Merlin for that one. You've got the Lovegood girl, who apparently completely in love with you. And despite the fact that one of your best friends has up and disappeared, you've still got one here."

Shaking his head, he tossed another empty and picked up a half full clear liquid. "And yeah, she is unbelievably emotional, moody, and can probably eat more than you, but she's still here and she needs her best mate."

Sighing, he looked up at the quiet man across from her. "She's having a baby, Weasley. His baby. So if you don't want to be there for her, or if you're going to be pissed at him, at least know that there's a little baby on the way and I bet it'd love to have an uncle." His face hardened then. "But that uncle has to be sober, because there's no soddin' way, I'm letting a drunk, angry man near that kid. Do you get me, Weasley?"

Nodding, Ron lifted his hand to scratch at his chin, shaking his head. It was still obvious that he was drunk, but Draco could tell his words had made some impact by the way Ron's head was being held up now, as if he had realized what state he was in and was now trying to fix it partially. His shoulders were still slumped, his legs sat open wide, mostly for stability in his chair it appeared. His long arms hung down against the inside of his legs, his fingers fiddling with each other.

"I- I don't want to be like this," he told him, quietly, glancing up momentarily. "I really want to be there for the little tyke, I just can't..." Shaking his head, he sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his eyes. He inhaled shakily, letting Draco know that Ron's emotions were breaking through the haze of alcohol.

Meanwhile, a bit uncomfortable but firm on his stance to help the Weasley kid out, Draco continued pouring the alcohol away and waited for the boy who used to lash out angrily at him to pull himself together.

"Over seven years," Ron said, his fingers yanking at his shaggy red hair. "And he can't tell me face to face that he's going to just piss off on all of us?" he asked, not expecting an answer but his tone left it open just in case Draco had any wise, calming words.

"I can't tell you what he was thinking, or that there was a legitimate reason," Draco told him, honestly. "I'm pissed at him and I wasn't even his friend."

"Yeah, well that's 'cause you're takin' up where he's left off," Ron reminded, lifting his face slightly. "While he's off somewhere in the world, probably in some bloody mansion being waited on hand and foot, you, of all people, are the person whose helpin' Mione through her pregnancy," he said, with an ironic laugh.

Draco could understand the irony of the situation quite well. Here he was playing house with Hermione Granger, insufferable know-it-all, and the bane of his Hogwarts career when it concerned grades. She and he had traded more spiteful conversations than perhaps they had with any other person they'd ever known. Here he was taking care of a girl he had called mudblood for almost half of his life. And to add spice, he was now standing in the kitchen of his other enemy, emptying every bottle of Firewhiskey and muggle alcohol he could find, to not just save his life and make it better, but to make sure that Ron Weasley would be there for his best friend's child; even though it was his archenemy's.

Ron's laughter died away however, replaced again by his endless anger. "I risked my life for him, at least once a year while I was his friend," he said, more to himself than Draco, staring at one spot on the floor with burning eyes. "I was there when everybody else thought he was crazy, thought he was against them. I walked into a bloody huge spider's nest for him!" he exclaimed, climbing out his chair. "I stood on that field and I killed Death Eater after Death Eater, trying to keep his sorry arse safe while he went off to kill Voldemort!" he shouted, his face becoming red. "I was there! I never ran away, like so many others. I never whined when War came. I shut the fuck up, so he wouldn't get worried about what he was destined to do!" he screamed, breathing heavily. "And what do I get?" he asked, stomping into the living room to grab a piece of parchment off the table.

Draco leaned against the counter, his face impassive as he simply let the boy in front of him go on his angry rampage. The second sink was now brimming with colourful empty bottles, with only six more to go, half empty all ready. He sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to leave any time soon. Oddly enough, he actually didn't hate the idea of making sure Weasley got all of his pissed off frustrations out, even if it meant he had to be the one to hear it. This was perhaps the most tame conversation they'd ever had, and weirdly enough it wasn't all that uncomfortable.

Coming back into the kitchen, still a little unsteady on his feet, Weasley waved the wrinkled parchment around; it looked as if it had been crumpled, stomped on, set on fire in places, and magicked back together rather clumsily. Inhaling deeply, he held it in front of his face, squinted a bit, and then began reading.

"Mate," he snickered. "I'm sorry. I know that that's not enough and I know that you're going to be right pissed after you read this. But you've got to understand that I can't do it anymore. I had a run in today, with this girl who's muggleborn and credited her life to me. She wanted an autograph but I was in a hurry to get away, because some reporter or another would undoubtedly be one step behind me. She freaked out when I told her I couldn't, yelling about how I was her savior and she expected more from me. I can't be that guy, Ron. I can't be this perfect hero who walks around with a quill, ready to sign every piece of paper that comes my way. I wanted a normal life; it's what I fought for, what my parents wanted for me. I wanted Hermione, and my friends. I just wanted to live my life, without having to worry about Voldemort.

"You were there; you saw it all. You know that my whole life, all I've ever wanted is a family. I can't have that though. I can't even walk out of my bloody apartment without being hounded. I need to go. I need to get away until this stupid Harry Potter hysteria fades. I will be back though, I promise it. I don't want to be gone long and please know that you're still my best mate and I'm sorry I have to do this. I need this though. I need a break from it all.

"All I ask is that you understand why I'm going, and that you take care of Hermione for me. I'm sorry. -Harry"

"What the bloody hell is that?" Ron yelled, shaking his head. "He put up with the soddin' fame for our entire time at Hogwarts. He put up with the criticism, the belittling, the articles on his sanity, all of it. And now he can't handle one little girl whose star struck. He had to up and leave with nothing but a stupid bloody note." Shaking his head, he ripped it up, dropping it to the ground and stomping on it heartily. "I don't bloody care if he's upset or angry, or whatever. All he had to do was floo over here and tell me, 'Ron, mate, I'm sorry, but I'm takin' a vacation. I'll be back.' But no," he said, drawing out the word. "He has to completely disappear, with no word; no bloody post about when he's coming back!"

Draco was on the last bottle now, holding it leisurely in his hand, listening to Ron rant. His eyes scanned the living room, realizing there could be more around the flat. Dumping the one in his hands, he began walking to the living room, passing a huffing Ron. "Are you sure you're mad that he didn't tell you he was leaving face to face?" Draco asked, glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes. "Or is it that he didn't take you?"

Ron stopped, turning to look at him with a furrowed brow. "What d'you mean?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"Well, think about it," Draco said, motioning for Ron to follow him as he walked out of the kitchen. He began picking up bottles, checking how full they were, finding mostly empties, turned over on their side. "For seven years, he hardly went anywhere without you. You were right there with him, even in the War when he tried to save you and Hermione from being killed by telling you that you didn't have to be part of it." Shrugging, Draco picked up the blue bottle on the table, finding it three quarters full and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell. "Now, he leaves a note and disappears on you. It's more of a 'What gives?' moment, than an understanding why he's leaving one. You're pissed because he should've taken you with him, rather than just leave you behind. After all, you'd never leave him behind, would you?" he asked, not really expecting an answer as he cleared away the built up garbage on the end tables, finding a couple of empty cans.

"Never," Ron replied, shaking his head. "I would never leave him behind."

"Right," Draco said, venturing into Ron's room to almost trip over the clothes lying around. Grabbing the three bottles off the bedside counters, and the two sitting on the dresser, he left the room and walked to the bathroom, dumping the offending liquid down the bathtub drain. "So you see, you're really pissed because you missed out on something. Because he's left you, instead of taking you along. It's not about understanding his need for peace and quiet, it's more of wondering how he could leave you when you've done nothing wrong."

Nodding, Ron seemed to be sobering up as he leaned against the door frame, running a hand over his face.

Draco stood up, walking back to the kitchen and checking for a garbage bag, finding an unopened box, he pulled one out and shook it open. Putting all of the empty bottles inside, he then started clearing up the garbage on the counters and over the floor. Looking up at Ron, who was staring out the window with a pale face and a furrowed brow, he threw a bag at him. "You can clean the living room," he told him.

Out of Quidditch reflex, Ron caught the bag without even looking but then stared down at it with confusion. Turning back to Draco, he frowned with a cocked brow.

"If you're going to be an uncle," Draco said, standing up with the hefty bag of garbage and bottles, he sighed. "Then you are going to have a clean apartment, sans garbage and Firewhiskey." Nodding, he smiled briefly, which seemed to astonish the boy in front of him.

Instead of fighting with him, which Draco had been expecting and prepared for, Ron simply nodded and left to start cleaning up the living room. They had the apartment up to livable standards a couple hours later, which is when Ron's sobriety started hitting him, winding up with him spending a lot of time in the bathroom, throwing up. Draco let him go through this for two hours before taking pity and fixing him up a potion for the stomach problems and horrible hang over. He figured if Ron knew what he had done to himself from the drinking, then he might not try it to such a state again. He didn't end up leaving until almost three in the morning, after fixing Ron something to eat, just some soup, and helping him walk back to his room.

Groaning, still feeling quite ill, Ron lay on the bed with half closed eyes and a pale, drawn face. "Mal- Draco," he called, just as the Slytherin boy had made to leave the room.

"Yeah," he said, slightly surprised that Weasley had used his first name.

"You know, thanks," he said, nodding. "I guess, I really needed this, you know."

"Sure, anytime," Draco told him, waving slightly. "If you're feeling better, you should stop by Hermione's tomorrow. She's been missing you lately, and I know she'd love to talk about the baby."

"Yeah," Ron said, swallowing and nodding. "I'll try my best to be there."

"Good," Draco said, walking out of the room and apparating to Hermione's apartment to make sure she was comfortable. Finding her sleeping peacefully in her room, he then apparated back to his house, crawling into bed with a rather satisfied smile. He had done good, and it wasn't anything to be ashamed of.

"I don't understand," Hermione cried against his shoulder, shaking her head. Inhaling shakily, she let out another heart wrenching sob. "Last night, after you c-came b-back and you were t-talking about moving on to have a f-family," she said, sniffling. "I finally decided that I was going to move on too, you know?" she asked, pulling back to look up at him. "I kept holding on to h-him. I kept hoping and wishing he'd come back but he n-never did," she said, her tears spilling over again. "And now- now he's here-" Shaking her head, she closed her eyes and buried her face against Draco's shoulder.

"I know," Draco said, holding her tightly.

After all of the years they'd spent together, she was possibly the most important person in his life. And he loved her; not the way she loved Potter. He had never been closer to anyone in his life, though Ron came in quite close. After seven years of being the best of friends, he couldn't say she was like a sister, but he couldn't call her a romantic interest either. She epitomized what he wanted in his future wife, but they were too close as friends to have a romantic relationship. He was her shoulder to cry on, her emotional support through everything. And he was fine with that; it felt good to be needed that way.

For a long time, Molly thought they were together or at least that they should be, but it was well known that they were just incredibly close best friends. There had been a few articles in Wizarding papers that they were together or even that Maggie called him daddy, but that was never the case. Maggie knew who her dad was and while she had an incredibly tight bond with Draco, she knew not to call him that. They had their conversation when she had been confused and he had explained that while he loved her like his own, she wasn't but that her dad was a great and fearless man, which had been hard words to utter.

"I mean," Hermione said, her hands clutching at his shirt. "What does he want?" she wondered. "What does he think now that he knows about Maggie?" Her arms snaked around him, hugging him close. "I don't think I'm ready," she told him, shaking her head. "I don't think I can face him again."

"You don't have to," Draco told her, feeling quite selfish in that moment. He didn't want her to go back to Potter in some ways; he liked the sense of family he had with her and Maggie. Most of all though, he feared what might happen if she got her hopes up and let herself get emotionally involved with Potter again. He had truly wrecked her when he left and she wouldn't be able to get through it again, not even with Draco there to hold her up. After all these years, he had accepted his place as best friend, uncle, god father, but now, as Harry had finally shown his face, he suddenly felt even more protective. As Hermione's best friend and the guy who was there for it all, he knew that whatever was coming, it was going to hurt. "I mean, you don't have to talk to him right away and you don't have to accept what's happened." Shaking his head, he pulled back to look down at her damp face. "You've spent six years mourning for the relationship he left. You have Maggie and you have me and Ron and everybody else. Nobody expects you to get back together with him or to fall in to being the perfect family. This is all up to you, love. You can tell him to piss off, or you can try and work it out. Don't force it; don't do anything you're not ready to."

"How did I get so lucky?" she asked, staring up at him with shining eyes. "By what force did Merlin grant me the chance to have you as my best friend?" she wondered, her eyes searching his. "You've been so incredible to me, Draco. I can't- I can't thank you enough," she told him, nodding.

"You don't have to," Draco assured her, rubbing her back. "Just having you and Magpie in my life is enough." And it was, without them he likely wouldn't have survived in the new Wizarding world. He hadn't had a place until they became part of his life, and now he knew where he was. He was a friend, a godfather, and a part of the Weasley, Lupin, and Granger family.

Sniffling, Hermione nodded, hugging him again. "Do you think... I mean, you don't think it would be horrible if he and I got back together, would it?" she wondered.

Sighing, Draco ran his hand over her hair. "If he plans on staying," he told her, leaning back. "Then I think it would be great for Maggie to have her dad, and for you... I know you've always loved him, Hermione. And I just really don't want you to get hurt," he told her, nodding. "If he's here for good and he's willing to really make up for what's he done, then I'll be happy for you if you get back together."

She smiled at him, nodding as she placed her head against his shoulder. A knock at the door alerted them to Maggie's need to see how her mum was doing. Draco smiled at how she had a very short patience level. "What's the password?" he called out.

"Uncle Draco," she whined, and he chuckled when he heard her stomp her foot.

"You can't come in without it," he told her, smirking.

"Fine," she huffed. "Is it... Quidditch?" she asked, hopefully.

"Nope."

She growled with annoyance and Draco couldn't help but know that she was likely frowning with her bottom lip out. "Is it... Slytherin's rule?" she wondered.

Hermione snorted, sitting up in amusement.

"No, but that is true in my case, isn't it?" he told her, grinning.

Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"Oh, oh," Maggie said, hopping. "Is it Magpie?" she asked.

Chuckling, Draco nodded even though she couldn't see it. "It is," he replied.

Swinging the door open, the little girl came running across the room, grinning. Hopping on the bed, she sat in front of her mum, reaching out to touch her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, pushing away Hermione's tears.

Smiling, Hermione nodded, pulling her little girl into her lap so that she was leaning back against her. Resting her chin on Maggie's shoulder, Hermione sighed with content. Draco moved so he was lying in front of them, sprawled out across the bed, with his arms behind his head. His eyes were turned to the side while he smirked at how alike they looked, aside from the shade of Maggie's hair and the colour of her eyes.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Maggie asked, staring at her uncle.

"Of course," he replied, nodding. "I can't let your mum burn the kitchen down."

Snorting, Hermione scowled at him but it was obvious she was amused. "We both know I can cook better than you."

"Just because I burned dinner once," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Draco you burned water," she reminded, shaking her head.

"D'you see what I have to put up with?" Draco asked, staring at Maggie.

Giggling, Maggie looked up at her mum, smiling.

Hermione kissed her forehead, wrapping her arms around the little girl. "She's on my side, I'm afraid," she said, smirking at Draco in triumph.

Sitting up, Draco took hold of Maggie's ankles. "She's always on my side," he told her, pulling the little girl out from Hermione and over to him, before tickling her sides.

Hermione shook her head, crawling over to blow strawberries on Maggie's tummy. Her daughter giggled against the adoring attack of her mum and godfather, squirming in a half-hearted attempt to get away. Hermione hugged her sideways, kissing her all of her face as Maggie laughed, while sitting on her uncle's stomach. A short while later, when Maggie had run out of breath from laughing, she curled up against Hermione's side, hugging her around her waist. Hermione, who had tired herself out from crying, slept peacefully with Maggie.

Standing up, Draco placed a kiss on each of their forehead's, before walking downstairs and locking the door behind him. Sighing, he apparated to the Hotel he knew Ron was staying in while waiting for his big game that weekend. Waiting in the lobby, he asked the woman at the front desk to call up to Ron's room and ask him to meet a friend downstairs. Pacing slightly, Draco was a little worried about how his best mate was going to react to finding out that his ex best friend was back in town.

The two of them had an odd sort of friendship, given how it started. But after awhile, they actually ended up being the closest of mates. Since Draco was very close with the Weasley family, they often called him, 'brother,' instead of by his name. It was a regular form of greeting when in the presence of any of the Weasley sons -except Percy- and Ron was no exception. Of course, Draco actually felt the kinship when it came to Ron, seeing as the two of them had grown to be so close. There wasn't one thing they didn't know about each other, which is why Draco was there. Ron wasn't on the happiest of terms with Harry Potter and even though he had admitted to moving on from the way his ex best friend had royally pissed on him, he wasn't going to be welcoming.

"Draco," Ron said, walking over with a big grin. "Brother, I haven't seen you in too long," he told him, pulling him into a friendly hug.

Years ago, Draco might've squirmed his way out, but after being around the Weasley's for seven years, he was used to it. "Yeah," he told him, nodding. "Just got back into town yesterday," he said, patting Ron's shoulder heartily.

"Brilliant," Ron said, ushering them over to sit in the plush chairs behind them. "So how long are you going to be 'round now? You'll still be there by the time I get back, right?" he asked, worried. "Or is that why you're here? Leaving all ready," he said, disappointed.

"No," Draco told him, shaking his head. "No, I'm back for good," he said, smiling.

"No bloody way," Ron said, shaking his head with a shocked expression. "You're pissin' me!"

Laughing, Draco shook his head. "No, really, I'm back!'

"That's bloody brilliant," he said, jumping up from his chair. "I was jus' talkin' to Luna the other night, and she kept sayin' that you weren't gonna move back because you loved living 'round the world. But I told her, I said you'd move back an' I was right. I can't wait to tell her, she's gonna be right excited. Jazzy is getting older and she's really taken a liking to you. She gets pretty upset when she knows you're not goin' to be 'round much," he rambled.

Nodding, Draco sighed. Maggie was the same way and often had a fit whenever he explained that he had to go away again. He was really planning on staying this time though; no more long months away from his family and friends. "I've gotta flat not far away from Hermione's house. I'll still be an auror but I'll be staying in town," he told him, nodding. "There's been an increase in trouble 'round there anyway, so they're happy to have me back."

"This is great," Ron said, grinning. "We have to go out on the town the minute I get back. Just butterbeer or something, but we'll have a bloody riot!"

Chuckling, Draco nodded, happy to know that Ron was still staying away from alcohol. After his long stint he had sworn it off completely and hadn't touched a drop in nearly six years. He had a falling back on it during the first year, but Draco had been there to pick him back up and help him through it. In fact, his sixth year would be happening the next week, which actually worried Draco, reminding him of his news. "Look, mate, there's a reason that I came by and I'm not sure you're gonna like it."

Ron sobered from his excitement almost immediately, taking his seat again. "What is it?" he wondered, worried. "It's not Luna or Jazzie is it?" he asked, scared. "Mum's not sick again, is she? Bloody hell, what happened?"

"No, no, it doesn't have to do with the family," he told him, shaking his head. Clearing his throat, he ran a hand over his face. "Look, somebody's back and I'm just a little concerned on how you're going to take it."

"If it's Voldemort, I'm concerned," Ron said, chuckling slightly. "Look mate, unless it's the big bad Dark Lord himself, I really don't think I'm going to be that upset." Shaking his head, he shrugged while leaning back. "It's not like Harry's back or anything."

Nervously, Draco turned to him with a frown. "Well..."

To Be Continued...