Chapter Text
“Ginerva, this must be your most horrid idea yet and mind you I say this after being tricked into babysitting all of your brood at once.” There’s simply no way that this week will end without violence.
“Oh cool it, you dramatic old sod.”
“Old?!” He shoves her, but the red haired woman doesn’t even budge.
“You’ll have to accept the inevitable passage of time eventually, Malfoy. Your hair will fall, your eyes will go bad, you son will outgrow you—”
“Shh! Don’t give him stupid ideas.”
“Could you two stop gossiping and hurry up, we’re going to be late for the Portkey.” Nevil calls out as he and Hermione herd all the children out in the clearing.
They all worked against Draco. Lied to his face and made him agree to a joint family and friends trip to the Black Forest in Germany, where they’ll all be living in small cabins for one week. It had already not been the ideal vacation plans for Draco, but the one thing they opted not to mention, however, was the added company of one Ronald Weasley and his wife. Draco failed to remember her name a few times now, he doesn’t dare ask again.
Unfortunately, the Weasley family had an ongoing big argument happening between most of the family and the hot headed prick, that is now accusing his mother of favouring a “Deatheater” over her own son. How very original.
Two months ago neither Ginny, nor his own parents managed to show to Ron’s wedding on account of poor planning. The idiot rushed into marriage with only two weeks forewarning to all the guests. And it just happened to fall on the same day as the St. Mungo’s gala. The gala where Draco was going to be commemorated as a prestigious Healer. It wasn’t just some simple prize he earned for being cocky. It was an honour only given to the most dedicated, compassionate and extraordinary Healers of the decade. Draco almost couldn’t believe that he had been chosen. But he also felt like a kid again. A child that after a rough patch finally found his way again and did something extraordinary and made his family proud. And this time he also had a family. Molly was pretty much his mother, he honestly didn’t think she actually remembered that she biologically wasn’t. Arthur, although a bit more stoic, was also always good for a pat on the back and a kind smile. Harry was the brother he never had and Ginny was the sister he never wanted and it was somehow perfect. He had been thrilled to hear that they would all be attending the ceremony. But then he heard about Ronald’s wedding. Hermione had been invited too, despite it being in poor taste, but apparently poor taste wasn’t the worst of it. The invitation had been sent to Hermione Granger and it left no option for a plus one. His wife had actually been furious. After all her attempts at reconstructing their friendship... She promptly sent the invitation back with a note saying that no one under that name lived at this address and Draco was actually proud of her pettiness. But he also made peace with the fact that he would not be seeing Molly and Arthur, nor Ginerva and Nevil, and maybe not even Potter at the Gala. Seeing as Ron’s wedding was on the same day and in a different country. Harry had managed to get through to Ron somehow and mended their relationship to a degree. It was still a bit rocky, but a wedding was a big deal and Draco would have understood if Harry chose to be there as the best man. His biological mother had surely read about the ceremony in the paper, but seeing as Narcisa never agreed to him working in any capacity, she surely would not care much for this award. He didn’t even send her an invitation. It would probably only be his wife at his table and although he would have been happy with more people, just seeing her proud smile is absolutely enough for him. But when Draco got to the ball, an hour late thanks to a last minute intervention, his table was full.
His gorgeous wife. Harry and Blaise. Ginny and Nevil. And probably most shocking; Molly and Arthur. All there, smiling and toasting among themselves.
He didn’t make it to the table because he was quickly pulled on stage, the host making light hearted jokes about how the man winning an award for his dedication was entirely too busy to receive his award on time. The whole time he was presented and given some kind of silly medal, he couldn’t take his eyes on table number five. Which made enough noise to fill the whole room. It had been a surreal night.
He didn’t even realise what it had meant until late in the evening the next day, after Hermione had spent almost a whole hour on the phone with Ginny. He didn’t know what they could possibly be discussing, considering they already spent a whole night together. At first she didn’t want to tell him so he wouldn’t be upset, but apparently Ronald had called his parents first thing in the morning and had caused a huge argument when he found out why they missed his wedding. Draco was furious at the stinking sod. Making his own mother cry after practically abandoning her, never visiting, nor calling and having this stupid illusion that she was the one that had turned her back to him. Draco could troddel him.
Things have been tense ever since.
Arthur was constantly at work, Ginny was constantly irritated and Molly was acting like everything was fine when it very well wasn’t. Hermione insisted he leave the matter alone for the Weasley family to take care of. In her eyes it didn’t really concern him. He didn’t make anyone do anything they didn’t want to.
Only… it felt like the matter bloody well concerned him. Ron was painting him to be this malicious family thief and he didn’t even have the balls to bring his ass over to Gloucestershire and tell Draco that to his face. Instead he lashed out on his poor parents and went at war with his sister. Too bad for him Ginerva had not only grown up among her brothers, but she also became a mother of five and was an expert at dealing with shitty childish outbursts.
However, Draco still didn’t understand why he had to be here for this. There are so many other pleasant things he could be doing instead of spending a week in Ron’s company. Like bleaching his eyes out.
“I’m basically a hostage in this situation, if we miss anything it’s definitely not my fault.”
“Draco, shut it.” His wonderful wife orders and Draco sighs. She obviously doesn’t want to be here either, but if she’s willing to make the effort, the least he can do is shut up.
After the nauseous swirling ride they end up somewhere in the forest. They were the first ones there, but Blaise and Harry were quick to follow and lastly Ron and… Amalia? popped into existence in the middle of the clearing. The calm air of the forest immediately heated up with the Weasley banter. He had apparently also been kept in the dark about this whole trip too. Draco completely ignored the yelling and picked up his daughter, the toddler was very uneasy after her first Portkey experience. So he immediately retreated to the little cabin that had the Malfoy name on the door.
It was a quaint little place. An open kitchen/living room situation with a large fireplace, two doors on one side and one of the other. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, probably. The kids will have to share, but that won’t be an issue, Scorpius was nine and Lyra was almost three now and they got along very well together.
“Dad, who’s that guy?” Lyra asks when he finally puts her down on the couch. He takes out his wand and lights the fireplace. It was only the end of August, but the forest was quite dense and chilly.
“Nobody important, don’t worry about him.” He kisses her forehead and the noises from outside get louder as the door opens, Hermione and Scorpius walk in.
“Really, Draco, you know walking away like that made things worse.” She doesn’t really sound upset, rather just resigned to a very annoying week.
“Sorry, love.” He chooses to apologise instead of explaining to her that the only thing he could have done that would have not made things worse was to self combust. “Can I make you tea?” She sighs and nods, then pulls their baggage out of her bottomless bag.
“Can I go back out to Fred?” Scorpius asks awkwardly. He’s now old enough to somewhat understand the issue, but he doesn’t seem too concerned.
“As long as you two stay near the camp.” He immediately rushes back out to where Ronald’s voice can no longer be heard now. Draco can only hope that a bear ate him.
“Seriously, Draco, we need to make this work, everyone’s tired of this.” He’s again biting his tongue, because he doesn’t feel like any of this is his fault, well… maybe a little bit of it is his fault, but he just doesn’t see how forcing them in close proximity will help in any way. “I need you to really try and get along with him.” A hand touches his back and Draco shuts his eyes and breathes out.
“I promise I’ll be civilised.” As long as Ronald doesn’t run his mouth again.
Hermione sighs .
—
“Draco! Come on! I got it!” They’re playing field Quiddich and no one’s been shoved off their broom yet, so Draco counted himself lucky. But he also had Nevil and Blaise on his team, so he wasn’t all too lucky. Fred made up for it because no one dared to steal the quaffle from the 13 year old, but Draco also had to be careful throwing it, so Fred wouldn’t lose balance.
Before he could throw it, though, Ronald snatched the quaffle from him and nearly threw him off of the broom. Draco muttered an insult and regained his balance while hearing the Weasel loudly celebrate another goal. Not that it mattered, because Draco’s team was already losing pitifully.
“Hey, you okay?” Fred asks as he flies closer.
“Don’t worry, bud, I’m fine.” They both look over to where Harry clearly is arguing with Ron. Nevil is barely a few metres above the ground and Blaise looks cold and bored.
“Why the hell is he even celebrating? It’s just a game, no one’s really trying.” Draco would also like to know, but these past two days have clearly shown him that Ronald never grew up out of some ideas. He’s still almost the same insecure child who was desperately trying to prove something. He did his best to ignore that behaviour and concentrate on his friends and the kids.
He did have an interesting conversation with Aurelia last night. The girl was ten years younger than all of them and grew up in Romania, so she had absolutely no notion of any wizarding war or the terrors of the Dark Lord. She just sat down next to Draco and started talking. Her accent thick, but her voice light as she told him how lovely all the kids were and how nice everyone else was. But Draco knew the question was coming despite the pleasant small talk.
“What happened?”
“A lot.”
“That’s what he says too.” She sounds disappointed, but Draco really doesn’t know where to begin. “Does he still love her?”
Draco thinks it over, but in the end tells her the only truth he knows. “I can’t speak for him or for Hermione, but I can tell you this; I pulled myself up from the deepest, darkest trench and I fought and forced myself to become a better person. A person that was worthy of the person I loved. That’s the only way I know how to love. I don’t think it was ever love for either of them and for Ronald it was probably mostly his pride that wouldn’t let go.”
“I see…” She says and gets up. “She’s lucky to have you.” Aurelia says with a knowing smile.
“No, I’m lucky to have her.” He truly is. “Does he make you happy?”
She smiles again. “Yes, he really does.”
“Good.” He replies and smiles in return as he gets up to leave.
“I hope you two can work it out eventually.”
Probably not.
“I hope so too.”
___
“It’s over here, Malfoy.” Ron spits out as he rushes in front of Draco. “Try not to trip over your own two stupid feet.” The urge to pull his wand out is only overshadowed by the annoying little branches that keep smacking Draco in the face.
They’re on a very narrow and clearly underused pathway that goes from their camp to a nearby river. This was so clearly a poorly created plot to get them to spend time in each other’s unwanted company, that it was almost comedic. It’s the fourth day of this bloody trip and all the kids suddenly miraculously wanted to eat fish. Draco couldn’t get Lyra to eat fish on the best of days but apparently being in the middle of the woods sparks all sorts of peculiar cravings. Like Draco’s sudden craving to start a forest fire. Ron, of course, volunteered to go fishing. That did seem like the appropriate hobby for such a boring man. But they soon found out that Harry, Blaise and Nevil went off to search for a flower of some kind that only bloomed during this month. Because, of course, there was nothing that could interest Blaise and Potter more than northern German fauna. Which only left Draco to accompany the red haired hobbit. At least that was obviously their plan. But there was absolutely nothing on this earth that could convince Draco to go along with it.
He was a weak, weak man.
One sad look from his daughter and he’s putting on some sturdy boots and covering the Molly knitted sweater with a warm coat. No need for a repeat of yesterday’s scandal by showing off that he did not just own one of Molly’s sweaters, but in fact, only owned Molly knitted sweaters, like some sort of hoarder.
“Shit!” He, again, narrowly misses a branch that Weasely ducked under and let go of to fly straight to his face.
“I genuinely don’t understand what you’re doing here, do you even know what a fish looks like?” He again sends a branch Draco’s way, but this time Draco actually incinerates it before it reaches his face.
“Quite the contrary, Ronald, I find time during my busy schedule of saving people’s lives to do something as mundane as to catch my own food, how else could I feed my family?” Ron does not respond to this, but he furiously picks up the pace.
This will not work.
After that unfortunate confrontation in Romania, Draco was sure that their relationship had gone way beyond rescue. He won’t deny that he’s to blame as well, they’re just not meant to see eye to eye and to tolerate each other. No matter what their friends and families do or say.
“Just do us both the favour and turn around. I can catch enough bloody fish by myself.” He sounds resigned and Draco has to swallow a thick lump of “I’m not here to catch fish, I’m here to make sure a bear doesn’t mistake you for an overgrown Cheeto.” Does the idiot even know what Cheetos are? Seems like the kind of knowledge one only gains by having children.
“Did you hear me? Fuck off and—ugh!!” Draco only has time to see the red head slide down from view before a hand grabs onto his coat, pulling him hard enough to make Draco lose balance and go down slipping on the same muddy slope that Weasley went down on.
They land together in a ditch, Draco thankfully on top of the other man.
“Get off! Get your stinking legs off of—” Draco isn’t sure why Ronald halted in the middle of his outburst, maybe that bear finally showed up.
That would have been too much luck on his part. Instead, as Draco opens his eyes and rubs the aching back of his head, he notices that the sunny, albeit chilly, afternoon had turned into a cloudy and foggy evening. This wasn’t right. His skin immediately prickles at the sudden change in temperature.
“Where—” He gets to feet and turns around to see the hill they slipped down on, only to be met with a flat surface full of dense trees as long as the eye can see, which in retrospect, wasn’t quite that far thanks to the thick fog. “What is this?” He turns back to Ronald who also looks around confused until he sees Draco’s gaze on him, then he quickly perks up.
“It’s obviously a Geisterstrasse, Malfoy.” He says proudly, probably not expecting Draco to know what that is. As if.
“Don’t be an idiot. Ginny specifically chose a safe spot in the forest.” He looks around again, only to begrudgingly come to the same conclusion as Weasley. “I looked over the campsite myself, it’s not nearly up north enough for a Geisterstrasse to manifest.” And yet this had all the telltale signs of a suddenly sprouted passage of darkness typical to the wild northern Schwarzwald.
“Are you blind? Or do you think the sun just magically fucked off?” It would be a shame if the sun magically fucked off before Ronald did.
“Fine, we’re in a Geisterstrasse, let’s just get moving so we can escape it and apparate back to the camp. We need to get the kids out of here, before one of them gets trapped in it.” None too soon he finished talking, a yelp was heard and then a tumble and soon a dark haired boy landed at Draco’s feet. “Fred?!”