This chapter contains mature content, along with mention of abuse, blood, and other violent topics. Please read with caution.

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Draco Malfoy.

October 13th, 2002.

Eight days.

He was holding the letter in his hand. Draco knew this day would come. He'd waited for it. He'd feared it, and he'd cursed the way that dark piece of paper would show itself, and it had now.

Trial. Draco Malfoy was standing trial for what he had done during the war and prior to it. All his secrets were let out in the downfall of the Dark Lord. All his misdeeds. All his crimes.

Death Eaters that still stood after the flames of a province on fire were to be hunted down and torn apart for what they'd done to this world. And he did. Draco did. He remained and thrived from the doomed dust of the ruins the darkness left behind.

He was the darkness. Malfoy held a severe part in the cruel ruling as it conquered, and he'd done unpardonable things to this world, along with the humans living in it while being held hostage under Voldemort's regime.

Ever since the age of fifteen, he'd sinned. He had committed crime following crime, and it was, according to the ministry of magic, his time to pay for it. It was time for his head to roll and his soul to be locked up in Azkaban for the rest of his fated life.

''When?'' Her voice was light, thin. It floated on feathers behind him as she so miserably stared at his spine facing her, ''When does the first hearing take place?''

It was dark. It was the middle of the night. He couldn't sleep since that letter arrived late after dinner. He couldn't open it either. It felt like a death sentence either way. So he put it away. He tucked it into an already overfilled drawer, and he pretended like nothing, but she knew. Amelie always knew.

Draco spun around, his eyes catching hers from across the room. Pain. Pained dashes stained his irises, ''What are you doing up?'' He mumbled, hiding the letter behind his back, ''It's late, and you were up with Talia all night last—''

''Draco...'' Her tone was soft, comforting. She took a step against him, ''You can talk to me.''

His heart ached. Hurt pushed through his veins, ''Go back to bed, I'll be there in a second.''

''Draco—''

''Amelie, please.'' He sighed, frustratingly, closing his eyes. He couldn't look at her while she stood there in her nightdress. Her braid perfectly tangled over her shoulder, her skin soft in the strokes of moonlight finding its way through the curtains, ''I can't do this to you. I'm not ready to put you through this.''

She huffed out a shaking breath before her feet stepped across the marble floor of his office. She was so close to him now, so close that he could rupture. So close that he was falling, on the fine line of falling and crashing to the ground, breaking. He wanted to break, ''Amelie...''

The girl looked up at him. Her lips parted to speak as her fingers slowly moved over his exposed chest. She traced her touch over his scars. She knew them. Even without looking, she knew where every last one was carved in. Similar to a map, she drew her love from scar to scar, ''You don't have to do this alone,'' She said, her eyes meeting his as bronze crashed with silver, ''I know you think you are hurting me with this, but you're not. The thing hurting me is seeing you go through this alone without giving me a chance to help you.''

Malfoy swallowed hard. He had to swallow again,  ''I can't do this to you, Amelie. I'm ruining your life.''

''You're not ruining anything,'' She whispered, stretching up on her toes and pressing a kiss on the curve of his jaw. Her lips sparked within him, something cold turned warmer, ''I wouldn't have this life, to begin with, if it weren't for you. Whatever happens, isn't your fault.''

''Except for the part where it is my fault. It's not made up accusations, Amelie. I did everything they say I did. I have no leg to stand on.'' His voice was trembling. The words spilled frighteningly from his tongue. Rolling off with drips of fear as he tried to hide it. He didn't want her to see him scared. ''They have every right to charge me.''

Amelie didn't speak. She quietly let the side of her head fall to his chest. He loved when she did that. He felt needed, important when she leaned on him in that way. She knew he did.

''I always knew that I'd be held responsible for what I've done. I just didn't think I'd have this life when I did. I never thought I'd have something to lose.'' Draco carefully let his arms wrap around her. His hands splayed out over the silky material of her nightdress. His fingers finding the arch of her waist, ''I never thought I would have someone to lose, but I do. I have everything to lose.''

''You'll never lose us, Draco.'' Amelie tried to ease his haunted mind, her fingers still moving over his chest, drawing tiny circles over the scars he carried, ''And you're not going anywhere. We'll take this as it comes, and we'll do it together. You don't have to do anything by yourself.''

''But it's my mess. Most of the things happened before I even approached you, and I'll be damned if I let my past doings get in the way of the future you deserve.''

''It's our mess,'' She yawned, baring her eyes and breathing him in, ''All of this is our mess. We have a daughter. We're married. All of this is ours. All the bad parts and all the good ones.''

Draco pressed his lips into her head, kissing her, ''What did I do to deserve you?'' He mumbled so silently. That question was more directed to himself than to her. He asked himself that, every day that went by, ever since she looked at him all those years ago back at Hogwarts. He never understood what he'd done to earn her love and carry her heart.

''For starters, you're not exactly bad looking—'' Amelie smiled, kissing the bare skin of his chest. Her lips hot, addicting, ''And second, you make pretty babies.''

''That's it?'' He rolled his eyes, posing as surprised, ''Pretty convincing if you ask me. No wonder I stole your heart from everyone.''

''No wonder at all,'' Her kisses reached his neck. Her hands moving across him, ''But I want you to know that you do, Draco,'' She gazed up at him again. She looked bothered, needing something to come of her chest, needing him to hear something, ''You do deserve everything you have in this life, and more. You did horrible things before, I'm not defending that, but poor decisions don't make a bad person. You've served your time by saving all of us, by saving the world. There are no questions about that.''

Draco had to swallow the lump as it grew in the back of his throat before he arched his spine, and he caught her lips, kissing her. Bloody hell how he loved kissing her, ''What would I do without you?''

''Be sleep-deprived, perhaps?'' She smiled against his mouth, tauntingly, but the playful behavior swiftly faded into a severe one, ''All you do is worry, and you need to sleep Draco.''

''You'll be the absolute death of me,'' He groaned at her as she spaced herself from him, ''That's certain.''

''No, a baby waking up without her parents next to her, and her crying because of it, will be the death of us, handsome.''

Her eyes flickered all across him before she gasped at the way he rushed towards her, gripping at her thighs and lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he walked out of his office, heading towards their bedroom instead, ''Then let's get you to bed, Mrs. Malfoy, before our daughter wakes up.''

October 16th, 2002.

Five days.

''Perhaps if you talk to your father?'' Narcissa stared at her son, his daughter nestled up in her arms, ''He knows a lot about the ministry and how they work with these things. He could be of help.''

Draco looked over the yard, gritting his jaws and shoving his hands into his pockets. The way he craved to speak against his mother now was out of the question. He could never be disrespectful to her even when she suggested such a thing, ''Are you still in contact with him?''

She blinked, her lips pushed together, ''Of course I'm not. I haven't heard from him since he requested the divorce. They say he went into hiding. No one knows where he's holding up.''

Talia let out a giggle, her fingers tangled into her grandmother's hair. She peered over her shoulder, right at her father. Draco smiled back at her ''Mama?''

Malfoy tilted his head, looking admiringly at his little heart. His own heart missed a beat at the way her cheeks were rosy. The blooming color shaded upon his daughter's skin. Her hat was about a size too big for her. It was hanging over her eyebrows, ''Tomorrow. Mama will be here soon.''

Talia frowned, scrunching her nose like her mother ever so did. Draco breathed out at the similarities between them as she spoke, ''I miss mama.''

His heart ached now. He missed her mother too. If the world only knew how much he missed her mama.

Amelie was in Italy. She went to check up on Theodore every other month over a day or two. He told her not to do that. Draco tried to convince her to let him go, that she took the decision she did two years ago for a reason and that she at least needed to try letting him go, but she couldn't. Amelie would fight him until he caved on that matter, and he couldn't truly blame her. She loved that boy with every selfless fiber in her body.

Draco took steps forward, making the little girl tilt from Narcissa's arms over to him, and he caught her in his grip. He hugged her so close to his chest, fixing her hat, ''I miss mama too, but she'll be here soon. She'll be back when you go to sleep tomorrow.''

Talia nodded quickly before she began to grasp at his hair instead. She brought that tiny strand of blond hair she carried, the spot of it behind her ear, and she compared it to her father's hair.

''Is she?'' Narcissa asked, bending down to pick some fallen leaves up, ''She's been gone for a day. I thought she said she'll be gone for just one.''

Draco took a breath. He thought she'd be gone for one day too, but he never knew when it came to Amelie. She often got ideas that caused him to rip his hair out, but she never did anything for herself. Amelie did everything for all of them. He had to trust her. He had to rely on her. He did. ''She'll be back tomorrow night, late, but she'll be back.''

''Does she know?'' Her hands now filled with leaves as she threw them up in the air around Talia and Draco, making the little girl burst out in laughter, attempting to catch a few of them, ''That you'll be gone by Monday?''

He felt a rush of pain as it ripped through him. It was worse than any forbidden spell ever could. Amelie didn't know. He didn't tell her. He didn't tell her that he was leaving in five days. He couldn't. Draco wasn't ready to do that to her, to their daughter. He didn't want to set a clock on their days together. He just wanted them to live normally. He wanted to make her happier than she'd ever been during these last days. He didn't want to be selfish.

''She doesn't, and I'd appreciate it if we kept it that way,'' He said, his voice harder. Distraught by the topic and he felt forced to change it back, ''But that's not what we talked about, is it?''

Narcissa shot a hurtful look across her shoulder, standing up straight from harvesting more leaves. The fabric of her dress dragged across the grass as she walked closer.

"I'm not in contact with you father, Draco. Even if he wasn't the one issuing that divorce, I would have. He betrayed us, all of us, in the worst ways possible. Yes — he tried to mend it, to help us, but that doesn't excuse what he did. That doesn't excuse that he let Adrian out, that he played you, his own son. I could never forgive that, not when it comes to you. Not after everything....'' Narcissa took her glance at his daughter. She smiled, ''Not after her. Not after that little human. She made us all rethink our choices in this life, Draco and rightly so.''

''She did...'' Malfoy nodded slowly, hearing his mother's words as she spoke them with such honesty. She wasn't lying. He could tell she wasn't. They didn't lie to each other anymore. Not after Talia being brought into this world. She was right.

After her, his little heart, he felt responsible for everything. He didn't want to set a bad example for her to follow. He wanted to be better than his own father ever was, and oh how he succeeded. Draco was one of the best parents his mother had ever seen.

No one cared for anyone as he cared for Talia. He spent every minute possible with her, talking to her, playing with her, learning from her, and teaching her what she didn't know. That little girl couldn't have won a better lottery than she did. She earned the greatest win by having Draco and Amelie as her parents.

''Do you think he'll show up? At the hearings? Wouldn't surprise me if he wanted to gloat a bit at my misery.'' He muttered in a question, feeling his daughter as she began to twist and turn in his arms, she wanted to be let down, and he let her.

Her steps tripped over the grass, stumbling her way forward with ease. She'd gotten better at that, walking. She walked, she ran, she jumped, and she sprinted everywhere. He could barely chase her anymore.

''I don't think he dares to,'' Narcissa looked after the little soul as she marched straight up to the red roses. They would always find her among those flowers. She could speak the color perfectly. He loved her for being as clever as she was already.

Amelie didn't rest with the books she constantly bought their daughter. She bought all kinds of novels and picture books, and they could sit in front of the fireplace, taking and reading together. If Draco tried to join — Talia would look at him with a glare so piercing that he had to keep himself from laughing. Me and mama, she said when he got too close. But she didn't leave him alone for long, no.

If Draco fell asleep, on their bed, on the couch, anywhere, Talia would crawl up to him, sit down at where his shoulder rested, and she would read. She would point at the pictures and mumble all kinds of things to him in his sleep.

''I'll be facing one more murder charge if he does.'' Malfoy's tone was solid. He meant it. Never did Draco wish that his father took as much as a step into his daughter's life. He didn't want him anywhere near Talia. ''Just make sure he doesn't come here when I'm gone. I can't protect her, and it wouldn't surprise me if he finds some foul way of getting into Talia's life.''

''You know I'd never let that happen, Draco. Never. Whatever happens, Amelie and Talia are safe here, Atlas too.''

He forced a smile, hoping that his mother would uphold her end of that deal, before he rushed after his daughter, his hands placed around her, and he settled her upon his shoulders. She laughed. Her daughter laughed, and he savored it, knowing it could be one of the last times he'd ever hear it.

October 17th, 2002.

Four days.

He woke up by a thud striking the floor, and his elbow struck the mattress, propping himself up as he looked around, squinting. Draco didn't see anything but her bag as it stood on the ground next to the door, and his heart began to pound.

His pulse paced, skyrocketing as he forced himself off the bed in nothing but his night pants. He directly walked his way to where he knew she'd go.

A sigh of relief fled his throat. His heart rate calmed, his pulse slowed. She was there. She was back. She stood arched over Talia's bed, tucking a curl behind her own ear to see their little girl better before she pressed a kiss onto that tiny nose they both adored so deeply. Amelie didn't hear him come in, she didn't notice him until his large hands were placed over the edge of the bed, on each side of her, trapping her in, and by reflex — she spun around in his arms, almost as if she was guilty of something. 

Malfoy had a delicate look smeared to his face, his eyes gently catching hers as he quirked a brow, amusingly at her silence. She smiled. Amelie smiled shyly before her hands brushed their way up his chest and hooked behind his neck.

They stood so close, so near that he could hear her heart as it hammered against his ribs. Her breaths had never tasted so sweet on lips as they did the second she kissed him. Amelie kissed him slowly, slightly opening her mouth for him to taste more of her. She had missed him. Amelie missed him so much. He could feel that she had, and it was the best feeling he'd ever felt. Her missing him. Her longing for him. It caused him to feel needed, wanted. He loved it.

He groaned against her lips, dragging his hands off the bed and gripping the span of waist instead, ''You have to leave more often,'' He muttered, his tongue reaching for hers as they kissed, ''If this is what I get when you come back, you need to leave at least three times a day.''

Amelie smiled. Her lips moved with his. He'd missed her even more. She could feel it far down her bones. Even if he always touched her so honorably, so sincerely — Amelie could always feel when he needed her more than ever.

''Only three?'' The tips of her fingers stroked along the arch of his jaw, the outlined cheekbone, down to his wet lips, ''That's a bit stingy of you, isn't it?''

Draco pulled away, blinking at her in the darkness their daughter's room held, ''What the hell did you just say to me?''

''I—''

Amelie didn't stand a chance as he hunched a bit, his hands grasping at her thighs, and he tossed his wife across his shoulder, ''Stingy?'' He hissed, taking her into their room and throwing her onto the bed, ''Is that what you think?''

She laughed out the second he towered her, crawling on top of her and his lips attacked her throat at a hard pace at first, but it calmed. Her hands eased over his bare spine, his kisses turned sloppier, until his forehead was pressed to hers, ''I missed you...'' She whispered, kissing his upper lip, ''I don't like being away from you.''

''We missed you more,'' His body weighted on top of hers, her head falling to the side to see him more properly, ''You have no bloody idea how much we missed you.''

Amelie looked at him. She studied him, every inch of detail on his face she took in, smiling tenderly, ''I have to shower, but I'll be back before you fall asleep again.'' She said, propping herself up as he climbed off her, standing tall on the floor again.

''What if I need to shower too?'' He grinned at her, cocking his neck. He knew he was running out of time. He had a lot of assets in this life, money, properties, influence, but the one thing he truly wished he had, he didn't.

Amelie sat up on the edge of their bed, and at a leisurely rate, she unbuttoned her shirt, sweetly rolling her eyes at him. ''Then I'd say we should spare some water and think about the good of this earth, don't you think?''

_____

Malfoy placed a kiss on the back of her head. Reaching beside her to take the bottle of soap standing next to his, and he poured a dot of it into his palms. His hands gently massaged the liquid over her shoulders, ''What are you thinking about?'' He asked, his voice muffled by the running water. The steam thickened around them.

''Life,'' She whispered back, her head tipping to lean against his shoulder. Amelie didn't speak much about what she saw as she traveled to check up on Teddy. Not that she didn't want to, but because she didn't want Draco to know. Even if the blond never uttered the words, he missed his best friend, and in her beliefs, she didn't want to make it worse, ''I'm scared, sometimes.''

His fingers tensed over her collarbone, dragging the bubbles to her neck, ''Why are you scared?''

''I'm scared for you. For Talia, Atlas, your mother. I just want everything to be done with, so we can have something real... away from all of this.''

Draco clenched his jaws, oh how he wished he could do that for her. Give her something normal, away from all the madness that kept drowning them as teenagers. It had been three years since they won, since they saved the world in secret. Still, it felt like the darkness lingered.

''Amelie,'' He said, his vocals raspier. The gushing water soothed around them, ''I'll give you anything you want, you know that. Just say the word—''

''I don't—'' Her reply caused him to frown. She turned around in his arms, ''I don't know how to fix this, Draco. I don't know how to save you from this, and it makes me feel so helpless. You always save me from everything, and I feel like I'm letting you down.''

That took the air from his lungs. If that girl just knew how magnanimous she lived to be. Amelie had a daughter to raise, a brother to care for. Still, she was so gracious when it came to Draco's mistakes.

He inched her closer, his breath shaking, ''You are alive.'' He said severely, ''Our daughter is healthy. Not only healthy, Amelie. She's happy. Atlas is doing well, and that's all I could ever ask for. You are breathing. We made it out. I don't want my past to make you feel this way.''

Amelie gazed away, breathing out airily, ''I want you to be alive too,'' She whispered, ''You always say that I am the one breathing and I'm the one who's alive, but what about you? You're as much the reason we made it as I am.''

Ice crossed bronze again. He pinned her soul to the heavens. He placed something within her again. All the love he carried and wore for her, he let her have. He nailed it deep inside her for it to stay there, even when he knew he wouldn't. Draco knew his heart would be safe with her. She would protect it at all costs. She always had. Even when he was out of his reasonable mind, she kept it secured for him. Shielded, no matter the price.

The dimmed lights misted in the steam from the heated water flowing from above them, her body leaned to his, ''I'll try to think of something,'' It was more to convince herself than him. She didn't want to come to terms with what was happening around them, ''We'll fix this, right?''

Draco looked down at her, his hands around her, her scent lingering, her heart bursting against his.

Don't lie. Don't lie. Don't lie.

He didn't want to lie. He didn't want to fill her with more untruths of how all of this would be solved when he knew it wouldn't be.

Malfoy settled his chin on the top of her head, pearls of water coursed around them, ''We'll fix this.''

He lied.

October 19th, 2002.

Two days.

''Blue!'' Talia shouted through a bursting laugh. Her laugh was soft, like her mother's. Calming, reassuring, never laughing at you, always laughing with you. She clapped her hands together. She had such tiny hands, adorable fingers, just like her mom. Peering up at Amelie as she sat in her lap, Talia kept chuckling, ''Blue! Blue! Blue!''

Malfoy stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and his shoulder fused with the post of it. Tenderly a curve curled in the corner of his mouth as he looked at them — his two hearts sitting on the floor, in front of the fireplace, and reading. Always reading before bed. He loved watching them as Amelie made small impressions with her voice, both severe and jokingly. Giving their daughter the world of imagination as she voiced the words.

''What is blue?' Can you tell me something blue?'' Amelie looked shocked, her voice playful, ''Can you tell me what's blue?''

''Blueberry!'' Talia kept laughing, shaking her head at Amelie, ''Blueberry blue!''

Draco couldn't help but remember what the word blue used to mean to them. It was her safe world, years ago when he was doomed to betray her. She picked it. Out of all the things, she picked the world blue. He never knew why.

''Blueberry blue,'' Amelie took their little girl in her arms and hugged her. She was getting bigger, her hair longer, her speaking filled with more words, and the time passed way too fast. It hurt within to think about it that he wouldn't be there to see her age, to hear her speak more, to see her accomplish everything the world had in store for her. Draco shrugged the wounding thoughts off, and he took steps into the room.

Talia met his eyes immediately, and he didn't believe her smile could grow any wider, but it did. She always smiled when she looked at him, ''Blueberry blue!'' She shouted, wrestling her way out of Amelie's arms. She sprinted towards her father, throwing herself into his arms as he caught her.

Malfoy lifted her up in the air, placing his little heart on his waist with his arms crossing her spine, ''Blueberry blue, yeah?''

''Yeah!'' Talia giggled, hiding her face in his chest. She said it over and over.

He slipped down next to Amelie, her head on his shoulder as Talia crawled over to her again. Her legs spread on each side of his wife, and she rested the side of her head against her mother's neck. Talia did that often. She just sat there, her chest pressed against Amelie's. Almost as she tried to listen to her heart until the sound caused her to feel sleepy, and within minutes she crossed the lines to the universe of dreams. Sometimes Talia would tell him about her dream, that a dog was there, that he was there, that she ran or jumped in her sleep. He loved listening to her.

''Not only in my arms anymore,'' Draco said, looking at them. Amelie met his soft stare. She smiled, combing her fingers through Talia's hair. She didn't speak. Instead, she closed her eyes, sinking her nose into his neck.

And they sat there, for hours they sat there, and he breathed in the last pieces he still held of his little family. Them. Them and only them. Oh, how he would miss them.

October 20th, 2002.

One day.

Amelie was already looking at him as he walked through the door, closing it behind him. Her legs crossed over the covers, her nightdress tightly smeared to her figure. He gulped. His skin flushed warmly. She made him nervous. He loved that about her.

She lowered the book in her hand even more, placing it on her stomach, ''Your daughter was asking for you,'' She said, tipping her head to the side. The thick waves of hair followed the movement, ''She wanted a 'papa kiss,' so I had to pretend to be you for her to be happy.''

Draco let out a weak chuckle, walking up to the closet and sliding the doors open, ''And how did you manage to do that? Pretend to be me?''

''Wasn't that hard,'' Amelie turned to her side, laying the book on the nightstand and turning her lamp off before she faced him in the shadowed room, ''I just cursed a bit—''

He turned around, his bare chest flexed. His eyes conveyed so much startle, ''Excuse me?'' A scowl came across his features, his mantle clearly shone in confusion, ''You cursed a bit? You? To our two-year-old daughter?''

She stretched her arms up, letting out a sound so sweet to his ears, and she let them rest against the headboard, ''So what if I did? You do it all the time.''

''Me, yes...'' Draco pulled his night pants above his hips, leaving them loosely around his waist, ''But you... Mrs. Malfoy, you should know better than to curse.''

''Really?'' Amelie smiled, she looked like an angel to him, resting so effortlessly upon the pearly covers, ''Well, Mr. Malfoy, you might have to reconsider that statement, because one, she's my daughter too, two I'm twenty-one just like you, I can curse however I'd like and three...''

Draco climbed up on the bed, close to her. His hair was messy, the blond strands tousled over his forehead as he rose a mocking brow at the lack of her words. His hands settled on each side of her, lowering his body, ''What was that, Mrs. Malfoy?''

Amelie breathed out heavily, looking up at him as her frame sunk into the mattress. His body had such power over hers, ''I don't—''

''And three what?'' Draco continued to taunt her, his chest poked hers, she could feel his toned muscles moving against her, ''What about three?''

''What about your three?'' Amelie tried to speak back, still in the missing of her words, ''If you tell me yours, I'll tell you mine.''

Draco's eyes rolled, sucking his inner cheek in, ''One, I have the most beautiful wife there is. Two, I am the luckiest father in the world.''

Amelie blushed. She had to look away as fire spread across her cheeks, ''And three?''

He hesitated at first, seeing the curiosity as it dashed in her eyes. He wanted to tell her this a year ago, two years ago — right after they were blessed with their daughter, but he never did. He didn't think she'd want to do this again. She never said anything.

Draco was leaving them. He was going away for his past life, and he needed to tell her. He needed her to know. He needed to be selfish. It was selfish. So selfish. Once, he told her he couldn't be selfish with her, but he was now. She was his. His. His, and only his. He needed to leave her with a piece of him.

''I want another baby.''

Amelie coughed out, choking on the breath she was inhaling, and she shook her head, ''What?''

Malfoy looked ever so serious. His lips pressed together, his brows rested, ''I don't know how much more of this I have, Amelie...'' He whispered, withdrawing from her. He lied. He knew exactly how much time he had, and he could never admit it to her, ''I don't know anything anymore, except the fact that I want Talia to have someone in ways I never did, like you and Atlas have each other.''

Her heart ached for him. Amelie never saw it that way, that he didn't have someone as they had another. She sat up in front of him, her legs folded as he rested on his knees, ''I know it sounds fucking mental, but I—'' He paused, looking down at the sheets. Drilling his gaze so intensely at the silky covers that it could catch flames, ''I don't know. I just know that I want her to have someone.''

Amelie smiled to herself as she looked at the man she loved so dearly. He truly was the most astonishing father. Never did she understand what she did to deserve him. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it herself, another child, someone more, another heart to carry, and someone else to give her world to. She just never thought he wanted the same thing.

Her palms pushed into the mattress, and she sat up straight, ''Then let's make another baby.''

Snapping his sight to hers, he furrowed his brows, narrowing silver in bronze, ''What?''

Amelie inhaled, a breath with well-needed courage. Her chest filled with bravery, ''You said it yourself, Talia will need someone. She deserves a sibling. We have enough time, and she's turning three next year... it's perfect, and I—'' Her cheeks flamed, her sight flickering tensely, ''And I can't wait to see you be a father again.''

''Fucking hell—'' Draco groaned, his body towering hers again. Her spine struck the covers with a laugh. She wrapped her hands around his neck, ''You drive me fucking insane.''

''Good,'' Her lips arched against his before she pushed them together, kissing him. Draco wasn't slow to follow. He kissed her right back, ''I like driving you crazy.''

He moved in sync with her. His heart in her hands and his soul intertwined with the purity of her. His damned lips tasting the sweetness of what was his, all of her. He couldn't pull away if his life so depended on it.

Her touch clawed at his spine. His touch landed on her jaw. His hand gripped her thigh, and he brought her hips against him. She let out a sound he could listen to forever. On repeat. Over and over. Amelie pulled his pants off. He tugged her dress over her head. His skin on hers, his lips kissing her, his breaths heavy in her ears, her fingers grasping at his neck.

Draco pushed into her. His whole self vibrated. It felt even heavenlier for each time they did this, her teeth sinking into his shoulder, his hands praising her body. His lips honoring her scars, he pushed forward again. The sound was back, that sweet noise. Her moans were addicting, her body dependent on his, her hands in his hair, his lips on her chest.

This wasn't the same to them, and it broke his head as she healed it.

He was leaving. This was goodbye to him, while it was the world to her. He cursed himself for doing this, for losing himself in her one more time before it would be gone.

She took the sweep of his jaws in her hands, her fingers tensing around his neck as he moved in and out of her, slowly, steadily. She kissed him. He kissed her. The veins embedded in his arms still forced into the mattress popped out of how hard he tried to hold himself from crashing. She whimpered. She was close. He was closer. He kissed her. She moaned. He groaned against her ear.

Falling. He was falling for her all over again. Every time he placed his sinned eyes on her, he fell. He crashed. He lost. He strayed. He drifted. He lost himself with her, to her, for her. She won him over. She owned him. She loved him. It was the best thing, falling in love with her. He couldn't stop. He didn't think it was possible to still collapse into a human as he caved for her. It surprised him every time, every day, all day what her love caused him to feel. Feel. He felt with her. He felt so much when it came to her. He always had been, for years.

''I love you.'' She breathed, her back arching. He went slower, lifting her hip with his hand to angle deeper, to give her everything. Everything. He wanted to give her everything. He did.

Draco caught her lips, falling. He couldn't stop falling. He couldn't stop shattering for her. Shredding apart. Breaking, he broke for her again. Malfoy would always break for her, ''I love you.'' He said, ''You are mine, and I love you.''

Amelie clung her arms around him, lifting her chest a bit to his, ''I'm yours, and you're mine.''

His world collapsed. Her words would be the death of him. It was the death of him. The absolute downfall of Draco Malfoy lived to be her. He couldn't breathe when she phrased it in the way she did. His heart was on the tipping point of becoming a bleeding mess within him, hemorrhaging within the cage of his chest. He'd drain himself of every ounce of blood running through his veins for her. He'd rip his own heart out and stand long enough to offer it to her.

He loved her. Draco loved her so. There wasn't nor would ever be a gesture to voice the love he held for that chaotic girl falling apart underneath him.

She was indeed the mightiest storm, the safest lighthouse, the blooming flower, the pouring rain, the chaos, the calm. Everything. Amelie was his everything. His heart as it pounded, his pulse as it paced, his breaths as they heaved, all of it. Every pure fiber in his damned body. Everywhere. She was the infinity, the eternity, and all the causes beyond.

He killed for her. He died for her. He avenged her. He saved her. He lost her. He found her. He loved her. He sacrificed for her. Amelie Avery was the reason Draco Malfoy was still part of this world, the cause to why he didn't fade as he was meant to. Her love saved him. She saved him, and he saved her. He gave her his soul. His heart. He sacrificed his meaning of this life at her feet without reason because she was all of his.

It turned silent, her body recovering from his — his body devouring hers.

Over. It was over. He knew it was, and it took most of him not to burst out in emotions, fall to his knees and beg her for forgiveness in what he was going to do. He did everything for her. He never thought the day he'd give her up would come.

''When?'' Her voice was airy. Her head rested on his chest, ''You don't have to tell me more than that. I just want to know when.''

He was quiet. The darkness in the room swallowed them.

''Draco, please—''

''Why did you pick blue?'' Draco asked. His hand reached for hers, and he traced it up between them, tangling their fingers together, ''As your safe word all those years ago?''

She swallowed several times to get rid of the bitterness she felt consuming her, ''Because of your eyes. They always made me feel safe.''

He closed them, and he dragged her closer. Her nose brushing against his neck, ''Can you promise me something, Amelie?'' He whispered. She didn't nod. She didn't answer. He spoke anyway, ''Live, Amelie. I know this will be hard for you, but I don't want you to put your whole life on hold for me. Live for her and for me. She needs you.''

''Draco—''

He hushed her, taking their fingers up to her chin, lifting it so that he could press his lips to hers, ''I love you, Amelie.''

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She knew what this was now. This wasn't him wanting her. This wasn't him planning for the future. This was him letting go of it. Him letting go of her. She could feel it in her bones, through her body as she cried so silently against his skin.

''I love you.'' He said again, his arms around her, protecting everything she was. He could feel her breaths shifting heavier, her tears rolling slower. She was falling asleep. Amelie was falling asleep as he broke. She wasn't falling asleep for herself because she was tired. She fell asleep for him. She knew how hard this was for him already.

Something crackled within him. Something was torn to pieces, and he knew that it would forever be shattered. He'd never be complete again.

It took all of him to move her away from him, more than it did to fight dozens of Death Eaters, more than it did to stand against the scars of torture.

He pressed his lips into the side of her head, folding the covers over her bare body, and he looked at that sleeping soul. At that heart, he never thought he would have, never thought he needed. That heart he now would die without. He cried. He shook. He shredded apart.

''No one saved me until you did,'' He whispered against her, breathing her in. Freshly cut flowers. He loved that scent. It was her scent, ''Now it's my turn to save you.''

Draco kissed her again. His numb lips against hers. Numb. He was numb, ''My Amelie.''

It didn't feel like he was walking. His steps didn't feel real. It felt like he was dreaming as he closed their door behind him. Every inch of his body was screaming, raging, fighting him. It shouted for him to go back, to take them and run, but he couldn't. He could never let them have a life where they needed to hide. It felt so surreal to him until he reached his little heart, watching her as she slept.

Talia was sleeping so peacefully. Like evil and vengeance didn't exist in this world. She was so pure. The purest parts of both of them, mixed and fused together.

Draco cried. He cried so much that it turned hard to breathe. He lifted his daughter, her head against his shoulder. Malfoy hugged his whole world in his arms.

''My little girl. My beautiful little girl,'' He whispered, ''You need to be strong for me. Your mama will need you more than ever, so take care of her for me.''

He placed a kiss on her forehead as he laid her down in her bed again, lingering for minutes just memorizing her, ''Be everything I couldn't be, Talia. Be everything I know you can be.''

It took even more to leave her room, to walk down the stairs of the doomed house he once despised. Never did Malfoy believed he would find a home here, but he did. With them, he did.

''Already?''

His mother's voice caused him to falter. He stopped in the doorway to the living room. She had tears in her eyes. He did too. She knew. His mother always knew.

''Mother—''

''We can fight this, Draco.'' She said, standing up and marching over to him. Her steps were critical. ''You don't have to do this. Let me go in—''

She gasped, being hewed off by her son as he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't do that too often anymore,  ''Take care of them for me.''

Her body was tense, restricted until it finally caved. She hugged him back, ''You know I will. They are safe here.''

''And yourself,'' He mumbled, clearing his throat. She could tell he wasn't used to this, speaking this lovingly to his mother, ''You deserve everything good in this life, mother. Never settle for anything less than what you know you deserve.''

''Please, don't leave them like this, Draco.'' Narcissa broke out in a sob, her whole self trembling. She wanted to take his place, to run and turn herself in, but she couldn't. She had done unspeakable things. She had let her son suffer at the expense of her husband's loyalty to the Dark Lord. They had decided his whole life for him. She couldn't do that to him anymore.

''I don't have a choice.'' He pulled away, looking down at her. He didn't cry anymore, ''It's her or me. You know that. If I don't turn myself in, they'll take her away.''

''Draco....''

''I would give my life for hers.'' He backed up, begging her not to make this harder without saying the words. ''You know I would. No matter what's at stake, it's her to me. It always has been.''

She didn't even earn the chance to speak again until he nodded at her, giving her all reassurance that it was alright. As long as they were safe, he could kneel at the feet of the devil. He could fall at the lethal sword. He could let the sinners feast on him. He would let the world tear him to bits and pieces as long as his world, they, all of them, were safe. He would do it all for them. Again and again.

''Until we meet again, mother.'' Draco forced a dry smile, bowing his head and then.

Then Draco Malfoy was gone, knowing he would never see them again.

October 21st, 2002.

Day one.

''Malfoy,'' He said, looking up at the guard seated at the desk, ''Draco Malfoy.''

It turned quiet around him. The hallway behind him unreservedly hushed. They never believed he would do this, turn himself in. They expected him to run, but he didn't. Draco didn't want to run anymore.

''Can you repeat that?'' The guard asked, startlingly, ''You—you are—''

''I am,'' His face held a cold cloak, his body strained, ''So can we just get this over with?''

It didn't take more than seconds before a swarm of guards stood around him. Wands were aimed in his direction. Voices shouted. Curses were thrown, but Malfoy stood solid, unbothered almost as he slowly reached his arms out in the air, and he knitted his fingers behind his neck.

They wrestled him to the ground carelessly. They didn't save him any mercy. His head was slammed to the stone, his arms pinned behind his back. Knees were pressed to his spine. He didn't care. It didn't hurt. He let them. It was his time to pay.

Two guards accursed a disguised spell around his wrists, keeping them tied together as they dragged him up by his arms, and they trawled his body down the hall. His feet scraped against the ground. His head was forced to hang.

Draco was shortly thrown into a small, closed-off room. No windows. No lights. Simply a mattress covering the floor. They stared at him for a mere minute like he was a caged animal ready to perform until the door slammed shut, and he saw nothing but darkness.

October 22nd, 2002.

Day two.

''Get up!'' The leader shouted. He could tell he was the one in charge because when he didn't comply, the guards stormed past the man and compelled him to rise on his knees. His mouth tasted sour out of metallic tang of blood, caused by the beating he'd taken.

In the middle of the night, four guards stormed in, and they tortured him in the most inhumane ways, only to leave him bleeding on the ground.

''You really need to be taught manners, Malfoy,'' The man spat, ''My name is Smith, and I am in charge of the inmates standing trial here at the Ministry.''

Draco didn't look at him. He solely grinned at the ground.

''Something you find amusing, son?'' Smith shouted, pointing his wand at the blond, ''You'll learn to behave here. Your little witch might have burnt Azkaban to the ground, but worse locations were built in its place.''

Malfoy scoffed, tilting his head up as he let out half a chuckle, ''You know who I am. You know what I've done, and you know what I'm standing trial for,'' He warned, ''I suggest you ease down there, tough guy, because an attitude like that does nothing to me.''

It left the man gawking. His eyes flickering the guards around them, feeling diminished, ''You're done for. '' He stated, and then, then Draco saw nothing but darkness again.

October 25th, 2002.

Day five.

Draco was violently dragged out of his cell. It took his eyes a slight moment to get used to the flickering lights outside his cell. His feet once again raked against the ground, but this time they didn't take him in the direction he was used to.

Normally, they'd take him to a room on the far edge of the building where they tortured him with past memories. They planted visions of bodies, innocent people he'd killed, recollections he had been ripped off because the Dark Lord didn't wish for him to remember — they forced it all on display for him.

They tried to break him before the trial. They tried to make him a lesser, more fragile version of himself, but Malfoy didn't cave.

He didn't cave. He tried to stay afloat, not crumbling at the torment they so viciously meant to cause upon him. He hadn't let his walls down. He stayed solid, even if it got harder. Every day that passed, every minute he didn't get to hold his daughter or kiss Amelie was worse than anything they could ever coerce upon him.

This time they took him to a room with what looked like a bathtub in the middle of it. Water. Piping hot mist streamed from it.

Drown him. They were going to drown him.

Darkness.

November 3rd, 2002.

Day fourteen.

His spine collided with the cellar wall as they threw him back into his cube of evil. His head hung, his eyes didn't have the strength to stay open. They were starving him now. Seeing how many days he was able to go without water until he passed out due to dehydration. He did, after five days.

Malfoy was fading. They were stripping him of everything he ever lived to be, and if he even tried to fight back, they threatened him with Amelie. How they knew about the lives, she took while leveling Azkaban with the ground. It was either her or him.

She or him. She or him. They tried to make it a choice, as if it ever was one, to begin with. They tried to work inside his mind, but without luck. Malfoy was trained well, and he had learned the resistance against the magic they sought to break him with.

It was beginning to hurt. Everything was beginning to ache a little.

Don't cave. Don't cave. Don't cave.

November 12th, 2002.

Day twenty-three.

''No!'' Malfoy screamed, once again being shown just how much of a monster he was before she turned him human. They showed him the children. They showed him the mothers. They showed him the men, ''Please, stop!''

They threatened Talia. They threatened Amelie. They threatened Atlas. Over and over. Again and again.

Draco wished he could die. That was all he wished for, that they one day would hurt him too much, make him bleed more than he could spare, leave him without food for one more day, allowing him to starve to death, but no. They knew exactly where to stop in order for his body to heal, and then they did it again and again and again.

Smith's favorite way to go was to carve his scars open, to make Draco scream for his life as they ripped the knives through his chest. Over and over.

Die. He wished he could die.

Don't cave. Don't cave. Don't cave.

November 20th, 2002.

Day thirty-one.

A hearing. That was all they told him as they threw the clothes he'd arrived in into his cell. The black suit. The white shirt. The shirt he clothed in after his night with her, after betraying her in the worst way by leaving her. The shirt still had a thread of hair from his daughter glued to it. He wanted to die.

Get dressed. You have a minute, they continued. He didn't understand much anymore. He barely grasped what day it was. He was so weak. Draco had never been this weak before.

Die. He just wanted to die.

''In here,'' They pushed him out in an oval room, his irises stung. His chest ached. His mind clouded. He couldn't think as they dragged him down onto a chair, tied his wrists to it.

The setting was large. Voices mirrored.

Someone talked. He couldn't hear them. They talked again—still nothing.

He blinked. He couldn't see. The spells they'd cursed his eyes with had turned his vision blurry.

Draco couldn't breathe properly. He coughed out, blood stained the sleeve of his suit. Daggers brutally dragged down his throat. He was sick. Between the heated water they so maliciously poured over him following the ice-cold shower they made him take, he had gotten sick.

His head fell back against the chair. He could hear people argue around him. There were too many voices to make out a thing.

Dying. Perhaps he was finally dying now.

Rest. He needed rest.

He fainted.

Don't cave.

December 2nd, 2002.

Day forty-three.

''Let's try again, shall we?'' The minister asked politely as he looked down at Draco from his chair. He was sitting high up, above everyone else, ''Are you feeling any better now, son?''

Malfoy swallowed. He didn't quite know where he was anymore. He remembered the last days as if they were a dream. A nightmare. He recalled the noise of a beeping sound, something constantly ringing in his ears. He placed an infirmary, a nurse making him drink a potion that tasted rotten. It still felt in the back of his throat when it came to his mind.

Draco nodded. The minister cleared his throat, ''Well, I suppose you are aware of what charges you are facing, Mr. Malfoy?''

''I am,'' Draco gritted, boring his stare through the floor, ''Sir,''

''You have failed this world terribly. There isn't an excuse for what you have done, and I'd like to know more of the tasks you carried out for the Dark Lord during the years as his servant.''

It became hazy again. The reality was fading. His mind was protecting itself.

Don't cave. Don't cave. Don't cave.

December 16th, 2002.

Day fifty-one.

It was almost Christmas. They told him it was. He had been gone for over fifty days now. There were fifty marks on his wall. He'd clawed them into the stone. His fingers bled, but it didn't hurt. Nothing hurt more than being away from them.

He couldn't even think about his family without breaking. How he knew Amelie would cry herself to sleep, in loneliness at night. All because she wouldn't want Talia to see her crying. All because she would never worry about their daughter. Talia. She turned two years and seven months two days ago.

He cried.

Draco cried again.

He couldn't think about them. It was too hard.

He threw up. He passed out.

It was dark.

Darkness.

He was so close to caving.

December 30th, 2002.

Day sixty-five.

''Are you ready to plead guilty?'' The minister asked. His temper began to falter. They had been going at this for two months. Over sixty days, ''For the crimes, the world know you committed?''

Draco swallowed the taste of blood as it soared in the back of his throat. The torture was turning viler. The methods were more brutal.

He didn't answer.

''Very well then.'' The man said, annoyed, ''Take him back to his cell and continue the lectures.''

Death. Draco just wanted to die.

He would rather die than cave.

January 10th, 2003.

Day seventy-six.

''One last chance, son.'' The minister said as the guards chained him to his chair. They spent another two, almost three weeks torturing him. He didn't care that they did. He couldn't care. They said it was the last day. The last hearing. Four months.

''You have one last chance.''

They showed him his sins again, what he'd done, who he'd killed and slaughtered. They showed him things he didn't even remember. He had no recollection.

''You will be sentenced to death, either way, Malfoy. Do us all a favor and plead guilty.''

He didn't. Draco pushed his lips together.

''This is unbelievable—''

''Sir, if we perhaps...''

''No!''

He wasn't having it. Any of it. He craved for Draco to plead guilty.

''What about your wife, Malfoy?''

That earned his attention, Malfoy snapped his head. Looking straight at the man in charge with murderous eyes. Draco didn't speak much anymore. It hurt to speak.

''There we go,'' He pulled at his cloak, straightening his collar, ''What if I were to...let's say build a case against your wife? Leave your child to grow up by itself?''

Draco looked away. If he weren't surrounded by that many people, he would tear the head of that man off his neck, and he'd feed it to animals. That's how threatening his daughter caused Draco to feel.

His lack of answers caused the Minister to lash out. He was shouting and cursing. He didn't have any control anymore, ''Plead guilty!''

Malfoy merely rolled his eyes. Dryly shaking his head.

''Do you?'' The Minister shouted, harder this time, ''Do you plead guilty, or do we have to rule against you? This will be much more pleasant for all of us you plead guilty—''

Still nothing. Not a movement as he sat so provokingly still in his chair.

''Kill him!'' The minister growled, his voice shook the room, ''Kill him. Then kill his wife and child!''

That caused Draco to feel loops of panic. Death. He was going to be sentenced to death. He should be happy. He wished for this all along. He wanted to die. He had begged to the heavens to die. For this world to grant him mercy.

He always wanted to leave, to rest, but he didn't want to die on their terms. He didn't want to fall at their satisfaction. He didn't want to fall at their ruling.

He was guilty. He had indeed executed every deed the Dark Lord forced him into. Willingly or not didn't play a part in the Ministry's eyes.

They didn't mind that Draco was compelled, that he was manipulated to a point where he barely knew his own name, and that his father stood beside the vicious lead and watched as his son slaughtered innocent souls to their satisfaction.

In their vision, someone needed to fall. Someone needed to take responsibility for the lost lives, and as one of the last standing men with that mark inked to his arm, he was the one they chose. Draco Malfoy was going to fall, one way or another.

''Right now!'' He slammed his fists to the table, standing up and pointing his wand at Draco, ''You plead in our favor right this second, or I will personally see to it that your wife and your child face the same consequences you will!''

''Sir!'' One of the ladies beside him whispered, but he didn't care. He didn't listen. He was spiraling. Heads were going to roll for every ounce of blood that was spilled during Voldemort's regime, ''You need to—''

''Execute him!'' He waved his hands at the guards, but even they hesitated, ''Right now! Execute him!''

They slowly began to move towards Draco as he still remained in his chair, chained. It was over now. He knew it was. It was done for. He was done for.

Talia would never see her father again. Amelie would die herself in the missing of him. His mother would never forgive herself. Atlas would be alone.

Over. It was over.

After twenty-one years on this miserable earth, Draco Malfoy was meant to die. He was going to fall. He was falling.

Mumbling among the other rulers mirrored. Voices lowered and raised. The tension was dread-filled. Horrifying.

It was time. He had to pay. He had to fall.

Someone yanked his head back. A wand was pushed into his neck. Done. Over. It was over.

''Kill him! I said kill him right this second or I will have all your heads served—''

The room was hushed.

The workers of the law next to the minister pushed their lips together—footsteps were heard. No one said a word.

Draco tried to twist his spine, looking over his shoulder to see what the rest was so frighteningly staring at. Coldness dragged in. Someone that wasn't supposed to be there suddenly was.

''I do, Minister,'' The voice said harshly, ''I take full responsibility, and I plead guilty to all charges.''

Draco closed his eyes. He didn't know if it was sorrow or relief he felt, but something stormed through him as he felt a hand taking a squeezing grip of his shoulder. He released a shaking breath.

Lucius. It was his father.

''I hope you can forgive me for running a bit late, son,'' He mumbled, dropping his touch from Draco's arm and facing the ruling of their world.

''I, Lucius Malfoy, the true right hand of Voldemort, plead guilty for all charges.''

The minister looked like he could faint. His skin was burning red. His fists balled, and before he could even open his mouth — every last one of his workers stood up.

One lady lifted her hand in the air, ''All in favor for Lucius Malfoy to be convicted of all crimes and free Draco Malfoy from all charges?''

Each and everyone stated their voice—the sound of the letter that would come to be his favorite one echoed throughout the room.

Draco couldn't even blink. He didn't know how to anymore.

The lady turned to face him. Her face held a gracious smile, ''You're free to go.''

He didn't. He didn't understand a thing. It wasn't until his father stepped around his chair, looking at him with so much apology in his eyes, that it shook his son. He was sorry. He was so sorry for everything he'd ever done. This was his pardon. He gave his life for Draco's, ''She's outside, son.''

That was it for Draco. That was the thing bringing him back to being—the words clocking him out of his locked mind.

The guards didn't earn a chance to free him of his chains before Draco tore them to pieces. He stood up, taking a breath and staring blankly at his father. He was sorry too. ''I don't—''

''I know.'' Lucius took a seat in the chair instead, ready to term with his true faith. He finally did what he should've done years ago, ''Protect your family in ways I failed mine, son. Now go. She's waiting for you.''

Then, he ran.

Draco marched his way out of that courtroom, leaving his father behind. He ran, and he ran, and he ran. He didn't stop. Draco didn't stop at anything until he was standing outside, in the wintery air, with rain as it firmly slammed to the ground.

It was raining. Of course, it was raining.

Draco ever so brought the rain.

''Draco!''

Her voice was an angelic calling from above. He barely believed it to be real. He didn't see her. He looked around, but he couldn't make her out among the moving bodies around them.

''Draco!''

Again. Perhaps he was dead. Perhaps they indeed killed him inside that courtroom, and this was heaven. She was his heaven. His Amelie. Her. Her and all her. Always her.

His heart stopped. Not a beat caused his blood to push throughout him because there she was.

Amelie.

His Amelie.

It felt like time stopped. As if the world moved slowly. As if he saw her for the very first time again.

The icing rain felt so warm upon his skin.

She was there. She was right there, shouldering her way through the sea of humans around them. So much was occurring, cars were driving, people were chattering, church bells were ringing, yet all he saw was her.

She was running, so was he. Neither of them stopped until her legs were wrapped around his waist. Amelie threw herself right at him, into the shelter of his arms, and she didn't let go. She would never let go again.

Draco sobbed out, feeling her arms as they hooked a solid grip around his neck. He cried into her shoulder. She didn't say anything. People stared at them from around, but all they saw was each other. Them. Them. Them. He and her. Always.

''I love you,'' He gasped, looking up at her as she tightened the grip on him. Breaking. Draco Malfoy was breaking. He was crashing and falling in ways no torture ever could drive him to do. He was free. He was free with her. They were free now.

''I love you,'' His lips pushed against hers. He kissed her, repeatedly, relentlessly, over and over, again and again. He kissed her so much that neither of them could breathe, ''I love you. I love you. I love you.''

Amelie shattered in a sob. He couldn't make out of it was her tears, his tears, or the rain that stained their skin. He didn't care. He kissed her. His lips moving against hers. Her fingers tangled in his damp hair. His body finally finding peace.

''I love you,'' She whispered, heartbreakingly yet so mending, ''I love you, Draco.''

He caved. He caved. He caved.

He would always cave for her.

She slowly slipped from his arms, staying so close to him through the chaos around them. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He didn't want to blink. He didn't want to miss one single split second of looking at her.

She was there. Right there. After months apart, they would never let the other go ever again. It was them. It would always be them now.

Tears stained his exhausted eyes. He was tired. Draco Malfoy was so tired. He was done. He was finished, yet he'd never felt more alive because there she was—his every reason to keep fighting.

Her. Her. Her.

It had always been her to him.

She was crying, oh how that girl was crying and he was falling apart. He was crashing and flaming until he finally had the chance to hold her again, and he did now. He held her. He felt her purity on his damned lips. He was alive. She was breathing.

Draco had earned his freedom. His peace. His days with her. With them.

Draco Malfoy was, at last, after twenty-one years of burning in his very own hell, free.

He was free.

They simply looked at each other, falling in love over and over again.

Malfoy would always fall for her.

''I'm sorry—'' He tried to speak, but she shook her head at him. Tears kept leaking from the lids of her eyes. Beautiful. She was so beautiful. So captivating that he didn't even notice. Draco failed to see what was on full display in front of him. He kissed her again, his hands on her jaws, ''Fuck— Amelie, I love you.''

She smiled. Amelie smiled against his lips as she leaned back, causing him to feel empty without her body pressed to his. He blinked, surprised. Gaping and staring.

''I'm yours, and you're mine...'' Amelie whispered through thunder as it echoed around them, rain as it poured. Her fingers seeking and finding his. She took them closer to her, resting them upon that little heart she carried.

Another little heart.

Draco cried. He shook, realizing what she meant. She whimpered.

Amelie tried to smile through her tears. Her beautiful tears, as she said, ''And this is ours.''