She was waiting patiently, hiding inside the bathroom of the dormitory room until all other occupants left. Once she heard the door close one last time and the voices of other girls die out, she slowly crept her way out. When her bare feet touched the marbled ground with soft steps they led her to the enchanted mirror Ashley Kirke, one of her roommates, had left behind.

As she reached the squared-cut glass hanging on the nearest wall, Ariana Malfoy took in a ragged inhale, her stomach a giant knot as silver eyes reflected back at her.

It'd been over a week since her return to Hogwarts and it seemed like things could not be going any better. She took her final exams, gently laughed with her friends, and most of the students stopped whispering behind her back or impassively asking what exactly happened that one Hogsmeade day. Even as time kept going on, knowing that things changed, Ariana still couldn't shake off the fact that she had reminders of the past still present, always reminding her.

Looking into the mirror, Ariana saw a scar decorating her left temple, the now-healed cut of torture blemishing her beautiful face. On her lip another scar healed into an extra line on her mouth that had not been there a month before. Underneath her eyes shadows of the nastiest shade of yellow were present, making it seem like she'd developed some sort of illness instead of old bruises finally clearing up. As she blinked at the reflection, she could see patches of skin that were still burned.

She was all banged up, but like Madam Pomfrey had said, all of it would fade away in time. If not, there were spells or potion remedies that would erase it for her. But sometimes at night, when Gryffindor Tower was completely silent, all the memories of how she got every cut, every burn still played in her head, traumatizing her further. 

Sighing, watching her warm breath fog up the glass, Ariana stared a little more at her reflection as she blinked away the memories. It made her feel disturbed, looking at herself with all the marks of Tanya Rowle's evil plot to destroy everything she loved. She understood a bit better why most people didn't really look at her anymore. It was for the same reasons why she refused to stare too much at a mirror— because no one will ever be  fine with a fourteen year-old taken as a hostage and tortured.

Ariana knew once she returned home that her mother will wave her wand and remove those experiences from her skin, only leaving the ones inside her head that no one would ever be bothered by.

Squinting slightly into her reflection, noticing another scar that she hadn't seen before, the door to her dormitory opened softly; a pair of bright eyes stared at her from the doorway.

 "I never really pictured you as being vain, Ana."

Like a reflex, Ariana Malfoy pointed her wand at the mirror, making it disappear as she turned to the door all in a second. She cleared her throat, crossing her arms over her chest as the bright eyes became more visible. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Yeah, but I haven't been much for rules before, have I?" James Potter shrugged casually, closing the door behind him with the same faintness as when he opened it. "Besides, that slip-and-slide method of keeping the boys out of the girls' dormitories is rubbish. Did they not think of levitating spells?"

Tossing her wand onto the mattress of her four-poster, Ariana kept her arms crossed as she watched the Fifth Year Gryffindor carefully. "What do you want, Potter?"

"Can't a bloke just come and say a hello?"

"You had the chance about a week ago, at a much more appropriate time," she told him bluntly. 

James let out a noise that sounded almost like a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Ana?" He winked at her, approaching with light steps as he tried adding humor to the awkwardness. "Besides, you were the center of attention for an entire week, and I sort of like to lay low."

"Piss off, will you," Ariana retorted, turning from him and heading for the trunk that sat at the foot of her bed. "I haven't finished packing and I honestly don't want to listen to you." 

Knowing he should've taken the irritation in her voice as a sign — because he'd seen the Malfoy girl upset before — the eldest of the Potter sons approached the Third Year nonchalantly. His eyes were solemn and his arms folded across his chest as he watched her fix her clothes. "Did you like me?" Ariana looked up at his whisper, her brows furrowing at him instantly. "When we were together, did you like me?"

Staring at him like he'd just announced that the Headmistress was dancing ballet on top of a table in the Great Hall, Ariana creased her forehead a little, puzzled about why this was even coming up. "You are aware that I'm with Al now, right?"

"Oh, I know. Trust me. He couldn't shut up about it when you were kidnapped," James grunted, leaning against the frame of her four-poster. "But talking about how my little brother stole my girlfriend isn't exactly what I want to discuss here."

"I'm not sure why we're discussing anything at all, actually," Ariana huffed at him, dropping her school robes into her trunk. "What exactly do you want from me?" she asked with more annoyance, not exactly looking at him (all the emotions in the air made her feel especially uncomfortable).

Feeling the same way about, well, feelings, James gritted his teeth  as he rolled his eyes at the entire situation. He just didn't really know why he'd asked Louis to help him up the slip-and-slide in the first place, but there had to be a subconscious reason. "All right, trying that whole honesty rubbish Dad's always telling me I need to learn, you're aware that I have...feelings for Savanna, right?"

Ariana tried not to smirk or snort, so she settled on a simple nod, motioning for him to continue.

"I just...I just assumed that if she saw me with her best friend then she'd grow jealous and admit that she fancied me as well." He cleared his throat. "And, well, that didn't necessarily go as planned."

"She's been with Fred for about two weeks now, yeah?"

James felt his heart drop. "Again, not what I came here to discuss." He was just not up to talking about how he has to grit his teeth every time he saw the witch of his dreams with his cousin. "I'll just get to the point—"

"Please do," Ariana said with a sigh, stopping her packing as she looked up at Potter with irritation.

James glared slightly at her, annoyed himself. It's not like he was having a pleasant time either. "I just want to know what I did wrong."

Ariana waited a few moments to reply. How he assumed he'd get Savanna Zabini by being with her had to be one of the most dumbest ideas that he'd ever come up with, and she'd been there when he tried taming a wild Hippogriff when he was seven. 

"You're just heartbroken, James," she spoke gently, knowing this had to be the way to handle it. "You need time to get over it, and, well, hopefully you'll find a girl that likes you in return."

James narrowed his hazel eyes at her.

She let out a heavy exhale, scowling. "You're feeling a bit thrown off your game, right, Potter?" She didn't even wait for him answer or defend his swagger; she already knew what type of boy he was. "You're not all that terrible if that's what's gotten you in a funk." She took a deep breath, every word that came out of her mouth was the closest to being as open as she'd have ever gotten. "You're sweet, caring, and obnoxiously funny — which I'm sure a girl will love at a point, and...you have the greatest ability to make someone feel better when they're down...That's something that I...that I really appreciated, James."

Letting a small smile pull on the corners of his mouth, the Fifth Year Gryffindor extended his arm out to the pretty witch, waiting for her to take his hand.

Ariana raised her eyebrow, not convinced or persuaded to reach for him.

At that, James chuckled sincerely. "I might be slightly in...like with Savanna, but if I hadn't, I'm almost certain I would've been completely enthralled with you, Ana," he said genuinely, dropping his hand as he knew she was not going to take it. "Which, I sometimes think I kind of already was."

Ariana rolled her eyes, turning back to her half-packed trunk.

"I tease little Albus all the time, and that's never going to change, but I'm happy he has you." James still grinned despite that she wasn't looking, taking the time to study the faded marks on her skin that he dared not to see while she faced him.

Letting her caramel-colored waves cascade like curtains on the sides of her face, Ariana felt her cheeks flush as her lips formed a smile, taking her time to fold a sweater Molly Weasley had knitted her for a Christmas. 

"I care for him," she confessed.

Though her statement was supposed to be for her ears only, seeing as she whispered it like a secret, James was not going to let the chance pass to make fun of her. "Yeah, well, that's not a shocker. But just so you know, I will tell the guests at your wedding that I snogged you first. That would really tick my brother off, won't it?"

Immediately ending the sweet-yet-odd moment they shared, Ariana threw the sweater at him with a glower accompanying it. "Get out, Potter."

Laughing, James chucked the navy-blue sweater back and headed for the door with his palms up in surrender. "All right, I'm leaving, but not because you so rudely demanded it, but because Alice Longbottom is waiting for me in a broomstick closet."

"Pig," she snapped at him, closing her trunk shut as he laughed loudly.

"Can't help it, darling," James called mockingly as he went out the door. "See you on the train!"

 X

Like déjà vu, Scorpius Malfoy stepped into the dining room of his home like a memory from not that long ago, back when the outsides were filled with snow. He walked into a celebration, his home decorated in colors that he never wants to see in his life again; his ears were invaded by all types of conversations and noises invaders of his home were making.

They all sat in a large table, the usually small room expanded with magic so the numerous people could fit comfortably. Over the wooden table laid a decorative tablecloth of pink with green leaves designed like stamps on it; the plates layered pink, green, pink. The goblets on the sides of the plates were a faded lime-green with pink flower petals of glass decorating the rims.Next to the green silverware, napkins shaped as blooming flowers sat next to them. All the while see-through pink butterflies floated around the dining room to add with the nauseating girly colors.

It was safe to say that it indeed was a little girl's birthday party — Demetria Malfoy's to be exact.

"You know, when I was a little girl I never really had such a colorful birthday party." Appearing next to him as the rest of the guests talked among each other, dinner already done with, a dark-haired girl smiled sweetly at Scorpius. "I suppose it's Mum's taste. She's always up for that elegant and statuesque sort of feel."

Feeling a little jitter flicker through his chest as he stared at Lana McLaggen's deep emerald eyes, Scorpius tried to return the smile. "Thanks for coming, Lana," was all he had to say.

Not quite wanting to end the conversation with her ex boyfriend, Lana held on to that smile. "I was a bit surprised that I was invited actually, but the first week of the summer holidays are always slow for me. I was glad I had something to do."

 "Yeah, well, I suppose Weasley had a lot to do with that," he said directly, aiming a glance at the blonde Weasley that'd stopped paying attention to whatever Fred was saying as soon as Lana had walked over to him, jealousy washing over his features. "When did you two become an item?"

"We're not." Lana's smiled deflated a little, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "Not yet at least," she also added as she, too, caught sight of Louis. "You can say we're dating...It's been loads of fun, I have to admit."

Catching on to that sparkle of awkwardness in the witch's eyes, Scorpius groaned internally as he felt his conscience poking at the sides of his head, demanding for it to come out and play for a while. "Lana, look, I know that we—"

"Stop." Raising a palm at him, Lana's sweet smile glowed again, the look in her eyes disappearing instantly. "You don't have to say it, Scorpius, honestly," she laughed kindly, placing that hand on his arm, clutching it gently. "Just remember I'm your friend and I care for you. No matter what."

Pressing his lips into a tight line, Scorpius refrained from telling the girl the same thing. He wanted to say it, he wanted to tell her he cared for her,too, but when she ended their relationship he wasn't very nice about it. Which, in reality, he wasn't very much anything about it. He let her walk away, tears rolling down her cheeks as she reestablished that he just didn't feel that way about her. Then he proceeded not to talk to her for what was left of the year. Needless to say, he was a downright git and he didn't deserve her friendship.

But that was the beauty of Lana McLaggen, he guessed; she made him feel something even when he didn't want to. He was positive she would always be there, just like she promised. Even if he hadn't said the same in return, even as she squeezed his arm and smiled again, even as she walked towards Louis, who looked chipper as she did, Scorpius knew that Lana knew he would be there for her no matter what.

Just as Fred stood from his chair, deciding to leave his cousin alone with his conquest, Malfoy got a good view of his best friend and his sister, the two at the furthest end of the long table, hands hidden underneath the tablecloth. 

"Dad's been giving me the eye since I sat next to you," Al whispered to Ariana, looking nervously around for any eavesdroppers, not noticing that at the furthest corner two blondes stared at him intently. "I think he knows — I think my mum knows."

Smirking lightly, Ariana tried not to laugh at Al. "Well, have you ever thought that maybe Lily or James told them?" Al said nothing so she continued. "I doubt Lily would, but James, mind you, would sell you out for a sickle."

Swallowing roughly, Al shook his head. "I don't even know why it'd be a big deal, you know? It's not like no one saw it coming, but they're making it seem like we are snogging on top of the table."

At that, Ariana frowned while simultaneously blushing. "Perhaps you're just being paranoid," she told him. "Perhaps no one actually really cares, so why should we?"

Al gave a firm nod. "True. We need to come out, let them know we love each other."

Ariana held her tongue. It was going to take her a massive amount of courage to ever tell him that she loved him, but she was glad he knew it and didn't need her to say it on the spot. What she could do instead of sharing words that were impossible to get out was take their clasped hands and place them over the table. 

Nodding once again, but to himself, Al took in a deep puff of air as he looked around at the table, attempting to look brave and at ease with his relationship with Ariana Malfoy displayed for everyone to see. )

Ginny Potter turned to the person next to her, getting a good view of her youngest son, Al turned red and dropped their hands back underneath the table. 

"Bloody hell, she saw. She saw."

This time not being able to help herself, Ariana laughed — it echoed off the walls and made people turn to her.

"Ana, darling, what is it?" Narcissa Malfoy asked her granddaughter, looking intrigued as everyone else had (it was rare when anyone got to see Ariana laugh so wholeheartedly).

His sister's response to their grandmother was sounded out as Scorpius heard someone speak lowly next to him, taking his attention away. 

"Can he be trusted?"

Scorpius locked eyes with the man that had passed down the silver in them. He contemplated his answer for a second, wanting to say it as clear as possible so that he never had to get into it again. "I trust him with my life."

"But can he be trusted with your sister's heart?" Draco asked carefully, his expression somber.

"That's what I meant by it," Scorpius replied quietly as he stared at that ease and acceptance on his father's face over Ariana's obvious relationship with Harry Potter's son. Because of that, Scorpius couldn't help but to finally understand what everything was about.

Love.

It was what everything came back to. It was the feeling that moved the world, that could transform any life, that could save any soul, and that could make any heart grow. And when the moment came that you had it, you held on to it like it was the universe's most precious jewel. It was the one thing everyone had to ultimately accept because there was no life without it. Because the love that can exist within a group of people, that could live between two, had to be acknowledged as pure.

So, the only thing left to fully comprehend was why had Scorpius spent years running from it.

It was a sign from the world, really, when Scorpius looked up at the same moment Rose Weasley had entered the dinning room with his mother and Demi. He felt his heart clench by looking at her, especially because they had been avoiding each other since he said those three words to her.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Scorpius distracted himself from the redhead for a second. "Your grandfather once said if there was anything that he was certain of it was Fate. He did not love everything, so he knew that what he did was meant to be his."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes, nodding once as his father dropped his hand from his shoulder with a smile. 

"Keep that in mind," was what Draco Malfoy said next, walking over to his wife and recently turned three year-old daughter.

"The Bakers have an excellent memory," Hermione told her husband as he approached, kneeling in front of their daughter as she waved the birthday-bag the neighbors gave to her. "It was a sort of a welcome-back and birthday gift from their part. They wanted to give it to her before they departed on their family vacation."

Tracing the back of his fingers lightly over Demi's right cheek, Draco smiled more largely.  "Did you say thank you, sweetheart?" 

Demetria nodded, waving the bag again.

"It's a white dress," Hermione informed Draco and those that were listening in. "It's quite beautiful actually."

"Mine," Demi said to her parents. "Like the one with granddad," she said effortlessly, clearly capable to speak with intelligence.

Rising an eyebrow, Hermione knelt beside her daughter just as her husband had, both now inspecting the girl warily. "No, love. This dress is new."

Demi shook her blonde curls, her brown eyes firm and honest. "Granddad saw it," she continued stubbornly. "He saw it, too." She pointed a finger, the attention moving to George Weasley. who'd been sharing a second bottle of Firewhiskey with Blaise Zabini at the middle of the table.

"I what?" he asked. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dem, but my mind does not pay attention to that sort of rubbish. Just ask Angelina, I always get smacked for it."

Again Demi shook her head, but this time with a little confusion on her part, too. "Fred." By that time, the entire table had gone silent, everyone staring at the youngest Malfoy with alarm. "Ted...Teddy's mummy saw it too. Ask," she told them.

Ginny put a hand on her adoptive son's shoulder as he gaped at Demetria.

She crossed her little arms, letting her mother take the bag from her. "And Si...Si...Sirius," she added with difficulty, frowning as she remembered the curly-haired man (he had been so rude to her in that place). But just as she remembered that, another memory sparked up inside her mind  — a mind that'd been  between life and the afterlife. "Daddy, you there. Tell them." 

As Hermione took out the puffy white dress from the gift bag, Scorpius took the opportunity of everyone's distraction to head for Rose, grabbing her by the arm and leading her out the dining room as she barely registered who took her away from the jaw-dropping comments the birthday girl was making.

Rose let out a hiss when she was brusquely thrown out the door that led to the front yard of the house. Uneasiness crossed her features when she noticed who had taken her away.

The two looked at each other like they'd just confessed their dirtiest secret to one another. There was anxiousness mixing in to the already present discomfort on their faces, a few inches separating them as a muggle-woman passed by with her dog on the sidewalk.

"Three weeks," Rose muttered awkwardly, coughing for the hell of it as she refused to be in that bizarre silence with Scorpius.

 "Three weeks?" 

She nodded slowly, keeping her mouth shut while another muggle passed by the outside fence. "Since you've talked to me," she spoke again, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "When you told me...that."

Having an urge to smirk and roll his eyes, Malfoy settled for his usual blankness. "When I told you I loved you," he stated.

Rose's brown eyes sparkled with hurt, her pale arms crossing over one another. "You've said things to me before, Malfoy, and even done horrible things to me...but I never thought you'd go that far."

"What are you on about, Weasley?" Scorpius asked when he noticed that her eyes held tears.

"For two years I've been trying to play it off like I don't have feelings for you, and for the most part I think I've fooled everyone pretty well...Everyone except for you, right? You always knew. I know you did. That's why you never bought my relationship with Damien McLaggen. That's why...that's why you constantly tore me down, because you knew." She took a deep breath, waiting for a second. "And even though I knew you wouldn't feel the same, I knew you weren't that nasty, not cold enough to taunt me about it...But telling me that you love me, Malfoy...that was beyond cruel."

"You think this is a joke, Weasley?" Scorpius snapped, looking incredulous at her as she wiped away a tear that traced down her right cheek. 

Looking up at him with her pained gaze, Rose chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before answering. Ever since he'd said those three words her defenses had gone down, and now she no longer knew how to be around him without her heart hurting. "What else could it be?"

Having a swirl of different thoughts — some disbelieving, others telling him to hex her, a few telling him to run and ignore her for the rest of his life —there was one particular voice inside his head that was heard beyond all others. It was a voice he'd been trying to silence for some time now. How long, he didn't know, but he knew it had been a while. Now it was time for him to finally listen to it. To finally stop being so...afraid.

"It's what I...feel inside." Uncharacteristically, Scorpius' voice came out soft, quiet. Hesitantly, he reached for her crossed arms, unfolding one of them and taking her hand with a shaky grip. "You're right, I knew all along."

Rose pressed her lips together into a line, looking in disbelief.

"You knew that I was running from you. And you knew that one day I would stop."

Another tear fell from her, but this time she didn't wipe it away. "Why now?" she asked. 

"Because I'm not scared anymore, Rose. Because it's time for everyone...for you to know how I truly feel when you're around...How sincere that feeling is, how much better I feel when you're around me."

Rose heaved out a puff of air, her red hair flowing back as the summer air blew between them. "Unbelievable." She squeezed his fingers in return.

Having always had the duty to challenge anything that Rose Weasley had to say, Scorpius decided to dispute that. "Believe this, Weasley."

Before she could roll her eyes, she found that he was kissing her. Her out of all people!

Her, for the very first time; her, with a gentleness he'd never expressed before; her, with so much emotion he had to grip her by the waist; her, with such a touch that he'd never given to anyone; her, with all the sincerity of his previous words; her, with all the love they'd been hiding from one another.

Her, his; theirs, them.

Just them — Rose and Scorpius.

Finally.

 X

"Well, if I may say, that was by far the best birthday party." With the last flick of her wand, sending the chairs back to their original place, Andromeda Tonks turned to face her sister with a smile. "And that's including your seventeenth birthday party, Cissy. I swore the entire Wizarding World attended that night."

Not bothering to correct her sister that the party she was thinking of was in fact for Bellatrix, Narcissa Malfoy continued to make the remaining butterflies disappear. "She deserved it. Three years old now and the poor child has gone through more than most adults."

Andromeda nod with a sigh. "She is healthy now, Cissy, and that's what matters," she told her sister confidently, knowing that it's what she needed to hear. "She'll continue on with life just as she should've before the attack."

Looking out into the night, Narcissa stared at the giant moon faraway, dazzled for a second by the bright stars. "What do you think that bit was about? Her insisting the dress had already been hers?"

"And that Lucius saw it?" Andromeda completed, registering what Narcissa wanted to bring up. "And my Dora as well?" Her voice was soft, but it was filled with understanding. "I'm not much of an expert, Cissy, but Demi did die for a few minutes and that can only mean one thing."

Watching as her only living sibling picked up her cloak from the table, Narcissa voiced what Andromeda had left unheard. "She saw them." And her heart leaped in her chest with faith. "Lucius, Nymphadora, and Sirius." Their family, their blood.

The eldest of the last remaining Black sisters nodded once. "And Fred Weasley apparently. Poor Molly, that really affected her. Not to mention George himself."

"But Demetria is just a child, she wouldn't lie," Mrs. Malfoy defended.

After she secured the cloak over her shoulders, her wand tightly in hand, Andromeda looked calmly at Narcissa. "They know that. It's just comforting to know that our dead are perfectly fine."

Narcissa's eyes lit up with tears, happy ones. "Good night."

"Tea tomorrow, Cissy. Do not forget," Mrs. Tonks replied before the crack of her apparition echoed around the dining room.

Wiping away those fallen teardrops after turning off the lights of the dining room, Narcissa headed for her room, laughing gently to herself over the irony of it all.

It was amazing how in the course of a few months a lot could happen; all good and bad. Those events reestablished the point that not everything is constant, that nothing ever stays the same. Not even life itself.

Narcissa had lost her husband months back, and that was perhaps the biggest impacting change that had turned her life around, sending her down a different path she had not envisioned before ( if there ever came a time to dwell about death, Narcissa was sure she would die at the same time Lucius would). Now her life wasn't exactly how she imagined it, but she realized a few important things from her grief, from her worry, from her hurt — that was that time, which changes all people, does not alter the memory of the loved ones, and that that love lives on and on.

So moving on was unavoidable, changing was unavoidable. Without it, even if they suffered or rejoiced over it, they would all be stuck in the same routine, and some things needed the push of time to sprout, to impact a person's life for the better.

Narcissa stopped her thoughts for a few seconds when she stumbled upon a scene that made her heart melt and her soul flutter as a proud woman, as a proud mother, grandmother, and mother-in-law.

Sleeping peacefully, surprising and beautiful in its way, Mrs. Malfoy felt pure joy as she witnessed her family all sprawled throughout the living room. Leaning on an armchair that was packed with birthday gifts, Scorpius and Ariana slept sitting on the carpeted floor; Ariana with her head on her brother's shoulder and him with his chin rested upon her head. On top of her older siblings' stretched out legs, Demetria laid perfectly straight on their laps. One of her little hands held on to Scorpius', all while Ana's fingers rested buried between Demi's blonde curls.

Looking up from the floor of the living room, Narcissa spotted her son and daughter-in-law fast asleep on the couch. Draco hugged Hermione into him as they both faced the same direction. Both had fallen asleep watching their children dream together.

Witnessing that, being able to feel the love radiate from her family's sleeping bodies, Narcissa knew there couldn't be any selfishness in her chest. If things had not gone the way they were meant to, if people had not gone from the world the way they had, if situations had not almost torn Draco's family apart, none of them would be here. None of them would've learned exactly how much they needed each other to survive.

Scorpius wouldn't have seen how easy it was to let his love out; Ariana wouldn't have taken a chance to attempt to express herself; Demi would not have been the link that kept her family together; and Draco nor Hermione would've been able to experience how much their love could endure, and how powerful it was.

"Fate is certain," Narcissa whispered to herself, walking to the staircase as she remembered the memory of Lucius' words.

Before she could step onto the first step, she noticed something rolled into a ball behind the couch — Blaise Zabini, to be exact; snoring like a kitten, a half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey clutched onto his hands as he slept in just his boxers.

Shaking her head, Narcissa waved her wand behind her as she proceeded to her room without a look back.

Change was good, but some things always remained the same.

THE END