Draco watched as the car disappeared into the distance, feeling utterly crushed and heartbroken.

He had fucked up the only good thing in his life.

Suddenly, he doubled over, clutching his stomach; the agony was real. The idea of never seeing Ronnie again caused him such unbearable pain.

But he knew, he knew he had to let her go. After the amount of pain and hurt he had caused her, it was the least he could do.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and knew without turning around who it was.

"What have I done, Mother?" He wept as she wrapped her arms around him. "What have I done?"

"You've done the right thing, darling," she said soothingly, gently tapping his back. "You've put the happiness of the one you love first."

"It hurts so much," he shuddered, his body shaking through his tears.

"It'll get easier, with time," Narcissa said gently. "I just wish you could have told me, Draco. Did you really think I wouldn't support your happiness?"

"But father-"

"Is a prejudiced old fool who can't let old rivalries go." She snapped bitterly. "So what if you fell in love with a Weasley? Do you really think her family's lack of wealth bothers me? What happiness has our gold ever given us? Just look at Bambi and that miserable father of hers."

And, at his mother's words, it suddenly occurred to Draco what it is he must do now. Something he could do that would start to make up for being such a damned fool all these years.

"You go on, mother," he said, wiping his face, with a new determined air, "there are things I've got to do."

"Will you be coming home later?" She asked, raising a curious eyebrow at her son's sudden change of demeanour.

But Draco shook his head. "Sorry, mother, I love you, but I'm not going back there. I'm done with father."

"Then where will you go?"

And Draco thought of Ronnie, of how much he had admired and respected her. And even though she was gone; he knew that knowing her didn't have to be in vain.

"I'm going to go and be the best person I can be, Mother."

And, giving his mother a parting kiss on her forehead, off Draco Malfoy set, ready to begin the first day of the rest of his life.

*****

The world was like a tonic, gently soothing our grief stricken hearts.

We did it all; driving across Europe, trekking through Asia, crossing the deserts in Africa; bushwalking in Australia; Apparating across the ocean to Canada, eventually making our way down through the United States and ending up in South America.

And with us at every step of the journey, we had Fred in our hearts.

We talked about him all the time; shared memories, laughed and cried. We allowed ourselves to feel the pain of losing him, and then rejoiced in the time that we had had with him.

And all the time, my stomach grew and grew as the new life inside of me was forming.

My mind often went to Draco, and I wondered what he was doing. I hoped with all my heart that he had found some happiness.

And I thought about Bambi and Blaise, finally free of her father's clutches thanks to Draco's heroic stand.

George and I sent the occasional owl home, letting Dad know of our whereabouts, but other than his reply of 'everything is fine at home', we heard nothing. It was the arrangement we had agreed upon to ensure a proper escape.

For how long, we still did not know. So we kept on going.

It was when we arrived in Argentina, seven months to the day we left England, did everything change.

My waters broke.

I gave birth to a healthy little baby boy.

He had soft pale porcelain skin, a tuft of white-blond hair and twinkling silver grey eyes.

"Well call me Narcissa's brother," George muttered, squinting down sceptically at his nephew, "you just gave birth to Draco Malfoy."

But I couldn't speak, not even to retort a sarcastic biting comment.

For, as I looked down at my tiny, perfect son, I suddenly realised where I wanted our next destination to be. And the urgent need to be there struck me so hard, I'd felt like I'd been winded.

George sighed heavily as he clocked my face, reading me like a book.

"You want to go back, don't you?"

Slowly I nodded, tears spilling down my cheeks.

I wanted to go back to him.

*****

George squeezed my hand as he drove us through the winding roads of the English countryside.

"It's weird being back, isn't it?" He said, eyeing me carefully, wondering if I'd respond.

I hadn't said much since my son was born twenty four hours previously. The need to get home was overwhelming, causing me to carry around this horrific heavy feeling in my chest; a fear that I was too late.

We went straight to Devon, despite the fact that this was not where I was desperate to go.

But I had promised George. Just one more day.

There was an unpleasant knotting in my stomach as George parked up outside our childhood home. I was apprehensive about seeing Mum and, in our sudden departure, we hadn't warned anyone of our return.

"It'll be okay," George assured me as he carefully took out the car seat from the back.

The front door to the Burrow flew open and out shot my mother, tears pouring down her face as she ran across the front lawn towards us.

I was fully expecting her to go straight to George, so I couldn't contain my surprise when she enveloped me instantly into her arms, pulling me fiercely into her bosom as she wept my name, over and over again.

"Mum?" I trembled, tears pouring down my own cheeks as I fearfully clung to her familiar plump round body.

"I'm so sorry, my Veronica," she sobbed, her voice choking horribly so that she sounded like a wounded animal. "I'm so, so sorry."

We stood clinging to each other, both of us weeping in sadness, regret and relief.

Our tearful reunion was only broken when the wailing sound of a newborn child pierced the air.

Mum looked over at the car seat that George was holding, her mouth gaping open in confused horror. "What the... George? Whose baby-?"

"It's mine, Mum," I announced straight away. "I gave birth to him yesterday."

"Is- is that why..." She spluttered, struggling to find the words, "...and- and the father?"

"I'm back to let him know," I assured her, "but Mum, I'm sorry," I added apologetically. "I- I can't talk about him yet. Not until I've seen him."

To my surprise, she didn't object, instead reached out a hand and brusquely rubbed my arm to let me know she understood.

"Whenever you're ready love," she whispered, her eyes warm, kind and full of the motherly love I had missed so much.

We went inside, and was greeted by our delighted dad, who took the introduction to his latest grandson as expected: with great, big, joyful happy tears.

Owls were sent and, despite my urgency to find the one person I had come back for, I found myself suddenly longing for a Weasley reunion dinner.

Along came Bill, Charlie, Percy, and heavily pregnant Ginny. Partners stayed at home with kids, respecting our need to just be us for tonight. There would be plenty of time to introduce my baby to his cousins in the future.

Long lost joy and laughter filled the Burrow once again as George and I regaled tales of our travels, Dad told dad jokes; Percy bored us rotten about the Ministry and Ginny moaned about Harry. It almost felt like the days when we still had Fred.

And although it still hurt to see the empty chair where he would have sat; somehow the pain was now easier to bear.

Our Fred, the lost Weasley who would never be forgotten.

*****