Hi, and welcome back to Desired. Thank you so much for being here. It means the world to me.

I apologize in advance for my writing. I haven't written in a long time, and I feel like I'm new to this again.

—

Five years later.

Isla Grace Nott.

"Hi, you."

She breathed through tears as she sat at the foot of his grave.

Something already broken crackled in her chest uttering those words, and Isla couldn't get another word out — couldn't form them. She never could. She said hi, and then Isla sat there in silence, listening to the wind as it danced through the tops of the trees.

Usually, Theodore was the one continuing their conversations. His Hi always came with a question or a comment. It came with warmth and a sense of home. It didn't anymore, and he hadn't continued their conversations for a very long time.

Two years.

Two long years.

Now her Hi was shattered, empty, and alone. It didn't come with questions or comments. It barely left her lips. It hurt to say it. It hurt to say it because he didn't say it back. It hurt because it drifted with the wind, and it was quiet.

It stayed quiet.

Isla never saw it coming, yet she did. That seemed to be the worst part — the part she couldn't handle.

The missing piece she couldn't face.

Theodore was dying, and she never saw it coming. When she thought about it now, she should've seen the signs. He wasn't himself, not at the very end.

It made her hate herself.

Yes, he didn't tell her, but she should've asked. She should've made him tell her. She should've known.

He was dying and he didn't want her to know. He always told her that the blood curse wouldn't kill him, that he could live with it — that they could live with it.

He couldn't. They couldn't.

He lied.

Isla couldn't blame him for it. She would do the exact same thing. She'd keep her curse hidden, and locked away so deep that he couldn't find the truth. All for him to live a happy life.

Theodore did just that. He gave her the best three years of her life. He gave her a happy marriage. Never had she been so happy as she'd been with him.

After Draco left them five years ago, with nothing but a note — she was a wreck, and so was Theodore. It took them months to do something more than get out of bed. It took her months to smile. It took months before she heard Theodore laugh again.

Eventually, they began to live with the fact that he'd left them. Isla coexisted with the thought of Draco not wanting her anymore. She accepted the fact that he'd lied to her.

All because of Theodore Nott.

Her Theodore.

He made the days brighter, and the nights manageable. He hugged her so tight as she cried. He healed a heart he never broke in the first place.

Theodore gave Isla her life back again.

Then he died.

It was a Thursday.

Like any other day, she woke up and snuck out of their bedroom to make him breakfast in bed. Isla always did that. She loved that soft look on his face when she came back with breakfast. She adored sitting there, on the edge of their bed, admiring him. His dimples, the way he combed his fingers through his messy curls. How he told her all about his dreams, and how he later dragged her closer and placed that gentle kiss on her forehead.

It made her day before it'd even begun.

But that day, she came back and he wasn't there. She couldn't remember seeing him while sneaking out. A confused look coated her face as she started calling his name. She stuck her head into the bathroom. He wasn't there.

Isla looked through their whole house. Her pulse began to pound, and the sound of tidal waves rushed through her ears. She felt lightheaded. It made her feel sick.

She remembered it as if it was yesterday.

Standing in their hallway, the thought of their balcony hit her. Isla ran back upstairs, hurrying through their bedroom, and noticed that the door wasn't locked.

She stepped out.

Theo sat there, so restfully on the couch. His head had fallen back, but his lips were closed. Theo snored. His mouth was always open as he slept.

It wasn't now.

His skin was pale, and his lips slightly blue.

Isla froze, and said his name so quietly, almost as if she knew what'd happened. Somewhere deep inside, she believed she knew.

It broke every last piece of her. It took away all she had left of herself.

She whispered his name again, and with tender steps forward she stopped right by his side. Isla placed the spine of her hand against his cheek. Ice cold. He was always warm, so warm.

He wasn't warm anymore.

Theodore Nott died a Thursday.

He felt it becoming overwhelming — the feeling he'd tried to ignore. That what he'd been avoiding for so long was finally catching up to him.

Theo could feel it through his veins. It shot right through him, all the time. Every second feeling as if his blood was on fire, burning throughout his body. Flames of ache scorched him to a point where it wasn't bearable.

He tried, but he couldn't do it anymore.

It hurt. It hurt so much, and he understood what was about to happen.

His time had come.

So he did what he'd always planned to do. He looked over his shoulder to where his wife was lying, and he turned over to her. Theo pulled her so close, breathing in the scent of her, letting consume all of him. Every last piece of him was hers. Then he looked at her, for minutes he just stared at her as she slept.

Isla was beautiful, that he'd always thought. However, this was different. He saw her in a different light now. He studied every inch of her. She looked like an angel.

He'd miss looking at her. Never had he looked at someone as he looked at her. Never had anyone seen her as he saw her. He'd miss seeing the eyes that'd melted him every time, and the beautiful smile he couldn't say no to.

He'd miss her laugh, and her voice.

He'd miss her so much because he knew he wouldn't be seeing her for a very long time.

Theodore believed that they'd be seeing each other again, in another life, but he would never accept it if she came too soon.

He wished a long, happy life for his Isla, even if he wasn't in it.

Theodore wasn't sad that he was leaving. On the opposite, he was grateful for the years he'd gotten with the love of his life. Their time was short and fragile. It could've ended anytime, so he made sure to make the very most of it.

He didn't see what was coming, he saw what had been.

Graceful, you could call him.

Theodore kissed his wife one more time, on her forehead, just as he knew she loved it. And then he stumbled out on the balcony.

The wind was gentle, almost kind to him, and it danced carefully through the locks of his hair. Almost given it knew what was happening. As if the world allowed him peace and mercy for his last moments.

He took a deep breath and sat down on the couch. He'd put it out there, for that purpose. He loved that couch. Then he stayed there, staring up at the moon.

Something that'd been truly special to him for the past three years, was the moon.

It was all he had left of his best friend. That was all he knew Draco to be at that time. He hadn't seen him in years. All he had was the moon, and the stars circling it.

It would always be Draco to him.

He watched that beautiful sky, lightning up a world he wouldn't know anymore, and then he closed his eyes.

He went.

Theodore Nott died a Thursday, underneath the moon, and the world hadn't been as bright since.

She wished he'd told her. She wished he'd eased that kind heart of his, so he didn't live with the burden of the curse on his own, but Theodore would never do that.

He'd happily suffer for her to be well.

He was the sweetest boy that'd walked on earth. The color of such a grey universe. The sun, and no matter how much other people would shine — he'd always shine brightest to her. Even after his death.

Isla had put him to rest beneath the tree he cherished so dearly. Where his late best friend rested, Isaac. She couldn't help but notice that the leaves turned even more gold since then. The world was cold but that spot, right underneath that tree — was the warmest place she knew.

It was the only place she found comfort, so she sat there, in silence. Almost as if she was waiting for something — for someone.

No matter how hard she tried not to think about him, he came across her mind all the time.

Draco.

Isla hadn't seen Draco in five years.

That was all she could think about before her already shattered heart broke even more. She didn't have the strength to think about him. Once she had them both, and now — now she had neither.

Isla shook her head and drew a trembling breath down her throat. Standing up, she looked out over the grave she'd laid Theo to rest beneath.

It made her think of a book he once told her about, the one with the boy and the girl and their rain.

She wished they had rain — something that always brought them together.

Placing her hand on his grave, Isla gave it a faint smile, whispering, "I'll see you tomorrow, love."

Then she went back home, to their house, to their home — just as she did every day.

—

Draco Malfoy.

Another week had passed.

Another week since Theodore had died.

He got the news from Mrs. Nott. On a Thursday, after lunch. He'd died peacefully in his sleep. Draco didn't ask much more. He apologized for their loss. Then he'd closed the door.

What Mrs nott didn't know as she startlingly walked away, confused by Draco's reaction — was that Draco had burst out crying, kneeling on the floor.

He buried his head in his hands and he cried.

He cried and cried.

He still cried, every day, even if two years had passed. He couldn't stop. He didn't know how to stop. He lost his best friend, and he felt at fault for not being there. When Draco found out about his curse, he knew he couldn't stay in Theo's life. He knew he couldn't be present, because the truth of one day losing him, hurt too much.

Theodore had convinced Isla that it wasn't lethal. That he was just sick, and wouldn't die one day.

Draco knew it to be a lie.

The blood curse was deadly. It was painful and exhausting. The one having it would suffer for years, before mercy in the worst form was granted — death.

He also knew that Theodore lied to Isla, to protect her. He knew that he wanted to spend his last years with her, in peace. Without her breaking apart too.

He couldn't stand it.

Draco couldn't bear the thought of Theodore suffering. He couldn't imagine the pain he felt through his veins every day.

So he left.

He left them one night, without saying goodbye. He made them think that they could all be together, that they could live freely. He lied too. Draco kept crying. He hated himself. He was disgusted with himself for being weak. Theodore was the one dying, and he left.

He walked out on them.

The news of Theodore's passing hit him so hard that he couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept for years now. He couldn't eat. He could barely breathe.

His days were the same. He took Golden on a walk, and then he went to work. Since the former minister was replaced and the marriage law didn't exist anymore, he had much work to do.

Draco worked with the new minister. It was an overwhelming position, just what he needed. He needed to be consumed with work so he couldn't think. He worked long hours, with a few breaks for walks with Golden. He wasn't home until midnight, and back at work early.

He didn't want to think. He didn't want to feel — couldn't feel. It hurt too much.

So he worked and worked.

Until the day a handwritten letter arrived at his doorstep. It simply waited there for him, on a Thursday morning.

His heart stopped looking at it.

Draco Malfoy, it stood. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just his name. If you didn't know Draco, you'd think he was crazy for reacting the way he did.

His name was written by his best friend.

The best friend who was meant to be dead.

The best friend whose grave he'd visited.

Draco swallowed hard before picking it up. His hands shaking. He stepped back inside and closed the door. Then he stood there for minutes, staring at the letter in his hand.

It took him a while to find the courage to open it — but eventually, he did. Draco slid down his hallway wall and dragged his knees up to his chest. With a shaky breath, he unfolded the paper.

' I'm sorry for this.

I'm so sorry for this, Draco. I'm sorry that I'm writing you this instead of telling you, but I can't.

How can I tell you something that will break your heart, mate? I know we're best friends, but I'll never be able to be a friend good enough to break you.

I'm a coward, and I'm weak for this.

And I think you're feeling that way too.

I'm not a friend enough to break your heart, but I'm a friend enough to know that you're killing yourself for leaving us. I'm a friend enough to know that you're blaming yourself for not being there. I'm a friend enough to know that you believe that the world rests on your shoulders, and I am a friend enough to tell you that enough is enough.

I know that you know. I know that you've known this whole time, ever since you found out the night before her choice was meant to be made.

I'm so fucking sorry for not telling you myself. I hate myself for not telling you — for you finding out the way you did. I cannot imagine how betrayed you must have felt.

I felt it too when I realized that the postcards didn't come from your parents, but at the same time, I couldn't help but love you even more for it.

You tried to heal a heart you didn't want to break. I tried to do the same.

I know you know, and I know you know what comes with it. I know you know that I've been lying to her, and I want to thank you for keeping my secret.

Isla.

I know it hurts reading her name, but I need you to keep going. I need you to finish this so that I can go in peace.

Please, Draco.

She's been through enough. Her whole life has been nothing but pain. Losing her father, losing Fred, and losing Leo.

Then she lost you.

Then you walked away.

I know you did it for me, and I know you did it for her. I know you did it for us so that we could have a chance. To live a life together for as long as it could last.

You did something I could've never done, and that doesn't make you a coward, Draco. It makes you the bravest man I've ever met. The most selfless of souls.

I know this will hurt you, but please — keep reading.

Isla hasn't been the same since.

She's been happy, happier than I've ever seen her. She's been more full of life than you could imagine. I think I gave her a life worth living, and a marriage worth remembering.

And she made me want to live. She helped carry the weight of my soul without even trying.

My cursed heart kept beating for her. I once wrote her, that when the world reads about the Nott family, all I want is for them to read about her.

They will now.

She took the shame my birth parents pained our name with, and she turned it into something beautiful.

She did it all for me, Malfoy.

But she lost a piece of herself that day, the day you walked away. She lost something, a piece I could never replace. Something I couldn't fix. Something she couldn't — can't fix on her own, no matter how hard she tries.

You.

You were a part of her.

She always denied it. Always tried to be brave and strong enough to not let it show, but I could see right through her, every time.

All the time.

Her heart will beat for me, I know that. It has been for a long time now, but it also beats for you.

I'm a friend enough to tell you that enough is enough. You did a brave, selfless thing. You gave us a life together, and for that, I'll always be grateful.

But you need to be selfish now.

You need to stop blaming yourself for doing the right thing. You need to stop torturing yourself for not being there.

It took you a long time to forgive yourself for not being there when your parents died. You did that for me. You saved my family and lost your own. But please, Malfoy — do this for you.

She has lived a happy life with me, but now I have to go.

I can feel it, Draco. I can feel it through my body. It's taking over. It hurts too much, all the time.

I've been trying to fight it, to pretend it's not there.

But it's time to face reality.

It is there, and I am dying.

I have been dying, for a very long time.

When I thought about it, years ago — how I would die — I always thought of you. It was always meant to be you there, with me.

You're not here with me, but still — you are.

You're engraved in me, Draco. In my heart, in my mind, and my soul. You're a friend enough to remember, a friend enough to forever be with me, even when you're not, and a friend enough to find in every lifetime.

You were my first love, and somewhere I'd like to believe that I was yours, — but she's my last, Malfoy.

She's it.

She will always be it.

And I know she'll be it for you too.

I know she's already it for you. Your everything. The one constantly haunting your dreams. It's time to stop dreaming about it and start living it.

As I said. I'm not a friend enough to break your heart, but I'm a friend enough to heal it.

Find her, Malfoy.

Find her, and never let her go.

Can you do that for me?

Can you let me heal the heart I know I broke?

Take care of our girl, Draco.

And let her take care of you.

I love you, more than you'll ever know, and I know we'll meet again. Come find me when you're ready, I'll be right here waiting for you, — both of you.

Until then, mate.

Love, Theodore.'

Draco couldn't breathe. He was crying again. It hurt so much — too much.

Sobbing out, he let his head rest on his knees. Curling up on that hallway floor, he couldn't think. Didn't know what to think.

He thought about Theodore, how he lived with the weight of his curse on his own for years, how he died, and he wasn't there.

He dried his tear-flooded cheeks with the sleeve of his suit, but it just kept coming. He couldn't stop feeling it. It took over, again. It all came crashing down on him.

Even if Theodore had begged him not to blame himself, it was all he could do. Theo died and he wasn't there.

It took him hours to collect himself, to even dare to look up from the letter in his hands. Draco stood up and walked into his living room where the bookshelf stood. The bookshelf was filled with pictures and memories of his best friend.

He left him.

He left him.

He left him.

Draco didn't know how to stand it, how to live with it, and before he knew it — he grabbed the frames and threw them across the room.

One by one, he threw them. He grabbed every book he could get his hands on and then threw them too. Bottles of liquor, and wine splattered. He pulled his hair, scratched his face, and tore his suit jacket off. The sound of shattered glass and furniture hitting the floor echoed across his house.

Until it was silent.

Until he stood there, alone, heaving for air.

He pushed his hand down his pocket and pulled out a lighter.

He stared at that flame for minutes.

Drop it, he thought. Let it fall to the ground and the sea of alcohol across it. One simple move, and he'd be with his best friend again.

He could be with Theodore again if he just let it fall.

Draco had hit rock bottom until he realized — He'd been there before.

He'd been in that exact moment before, and his mind went straight to her.

Isla.

That damned girl, with all her flaws.

The thought of her saved him last time. The feeling of loving her freed him from his demons. His angel. His savior. The last honey-filled sip in his cup of tea.

Her.

Isla Grace Clarke.

He blinked, slowly as he watched the flame burn out. He put the lighter back into his pocket without a second thought.

Isla.

That was enough for him.

He'd missed her. He missed her more than he'd ever admit to. She wasn't the only one with a piece missing, he was too.

He missed her so bad it hurt, that he felt a rush of pain aching through his veins with each heartbeat.

Not just because of that reckless, and impossible girl — but also because it was what Theodore wished for him to do.

He needed to find her.

If not for him, and his sake, then for Theodore's.

—

One year later.

It was a Thursday, the day he finally decided to pick himself up and out of the mess he'd caused and find the girl he'd been missing.

It took him a long time, a whole year of it. At last, he believed to be ready. He believed he'd grown to be enough for her.

Draco didn't think he was worthy of the girl he abandoned, not in this life or the next. He thought to have razed all chances to be someone to her again.

That was all he wished for, dreamt of. If not who he used to be to her, but to be someone — to deserve to be in her life again.

To get her back.

He'd hesitated for a year, but the time had come. He couldn't stall it anymore — didn't want to.

All he wanted was her. Every last piece he could give her.

Malfoy knew where she lived. He'd always known.

Isla still lived in their old house, hers and Theodore's.

A beautiful house, painted yellow with large windows. The garden was looked after. Draco could only assume that it was because of her mother-in-law, Mrs. Nott. She always had a special talent for gardens. She helped his own mother many times when he was little.

He could find Narcissa and Mrs. Nott out in their garden, with a glass of wine. They talked and laughed until late hours. It warmed his heart, the thought of Isla now being the one Mrs. Nott helped.

His mother would've loved her — adored her.

Apparating his and Golden's way there, he ended up across the street.

Draco saw her immediately. She was standing close to a bus stop, talking to an old man as he gestured down the street.

She looked exactly the same as if she hadn't aged — as if the last time he saw her was yesterday.

His heart beat faster and pounded in his chest. The sound of it echoed in his head, and suddenly he couldn't think straight.

It felt as if he was dreaming, looking at her. Draco swallowed thickly before he managed to take a step forward. And another. One foot in front of the other, he tried so hard to not lose balance, and he reached the sidewalk. Right across the busy street.

One more step and she'd see him.

One more step and he'd be home. It all would be alright again. Everything would fall back in place, and maybe — just maybe he could forgive himself and start living again.

He stopped. Almost as abruptly as his heart had ceased beating.

Draco couldn't breathe.

His lips parted, and he just stared at what he'd seen.

He looked just like him.

A little boy, with brown curls framing his soft face.

It hurt so much — too much.

He had to strain the leach he was holding. Golden was going absolutely crazy seeing her from afar, and it was almost as if his dog thought that little boy to be Theodore.

He couldn't be more than three years old. Theodore never wrote about him.

It hurt even more now — because he realized that Theodore didn't know. She must've found out about the pregnancy after Theodore's passing. It made Draco feel sick, knowing she went through it all alone.

He couldn't do it.

Draco couldn't do it.

He gave them one last look, feeling tears brimming in his eyes.

They looked perfect.

She probably lived her best life, with her son. She looked happy taking her son's hand and leading him up their driveway. He let go of her hand as he sprinted, and just as he turned around on the doorstep, he looked back.

He looked right at Draco, for a mere second before Isla took him inside and closed the door. It rocked inside the blond. He really looked just like Theodore.

The love of his life, and the son of his best friend.

He sighed. All of his hope drifted away from it, faster than it came.

''Come on, boy.'' He said with sorrow taking over his voice, looking down at Golden, ''We shouldn't be here.''

Then they walked away.

—

Isla Grace Nott.

The day started like any other. An adorable little boy kissed her cheek, whispering, "Hi, you."

Isla yawned softly, later smiling at her son, "Hi, you." She said, "How did you sleep, Teddy?"

"Good," He chuckled, looking a bit suspicious, like a question was coming, "Can we do something today, mum?"

It eased her heart.

Isla and Teddy talked about his father a lot. She wanted her son to know all about that beautiful man. Still, it broke her every time he asked about him. All because he was the only thing Isla couldn't give him.

He'd wished for his father for Christmas — for birthdays, even when the tooth fairy visited him.

Teddy Nott had all a three-year-old could wish for, apart from his father.

That part would never get any easier, so every time she thought him to have a question in mind, she almost froze.

"What did you have in mind?" She asked, combing her fingers through her son's hair.

He blinked up at her, excitement in his eyes, "Pancakes..." He whispered, "I want to go out for pancakes."

Isla's smile turned even bigger, "Pancakes? Really?"

The little boy jolted around, clinging onto his mother, "Please, please, please," He begged, attacking her with tiny kisses all over her face, "Uncle Leo takes Ava and August out for pancakes all the time."

Isla lifted a brow, "Does he now?"

"Yes," Teddy giggled, "When Aunty Mila is asleep after taking care of Ava all night. Leo can't cook."

She laughed at that. Glimpses of happiness in her eyes. "No, Uncle Leo can't cook."

"Too much salt," Teddy said, scrunching his nose in disgust, "Cookies can't have that much salt in them."

She kept laughing, hugging her son, "You're right, cookies shouldn't have that much salt. So, some pancakes then?"

Teddy nodded, looking excited as he jumped out of bed, "I'll get ready!"

Isla huffed out, falling back onto the pillows. Of course, Leo would take their children out for breakfast — Leo hated making breakfast, and his wife always slept in after long nights with their daughter.

She couldn't help but smile at the thought of them having their own children together. For the first years of their son's life, Mila was on her own with him. Theodore and Isla would always be there, still, they knew it wasn't the same as having Leo present. But when the old ministry was overthrown, and a new one took its place — the marriage law was discussed.

She'd read it somewhere, that under consideration the new minister, and his co-worker, Draco Malfoy, had decided to erase the law binding so many lives together. They were free. Leo and Mila were free to do as they pleased.

All thanks to Draco. She knew that somewhere, he did that for their friends. She remembered how much he hurt, watching Mila and Leo go through what they did. Seeing the light of Mila's eyes go out she stopped remembering Leo.

Draco held her back that day.

He put his arms around her, and he held her back when Theo did as he'd promised Leo, removing every trace of him from Mila's mind.

She knew that Malfoy never forgave himself for being a part of that. For helping Leo do what he did. So he spent years trying to fix it.

And he did.

Thanks to Draco Malfoy, the marriage law no longer exists, and falling in love was an option, for everyone.

It took a while to find her best friend, Leo gone overseas. But the second she told him all about it, he rushed back. Mila was granted her memory, and they could finally live the life they so well deserved.

Then Theo died, and she found out that she was four months pregnant. Not long after that, Teddy came and gave her a whole new meaning of life.

Now they were the ones being there for her.

They always watched Teddy when Isla wanted a moment alone with her husband by his grave. They came by every Sunday for family dinner. Leo, Mila, and their two children. They did most things together.

They were her family now.

Isla sighed. Reliving all of it in her mind was too much. The day she first saw their names in her letter felt like a lifetime ago.

''Mum, hurry!'' Teddy called out for her from the hallway, clocking her right out of her thoughts, ''The pancakes are getting cold!''

Isla got dressed, and she took her son's hand, leading him down the street to the place Leo always talked about. They spent over an hour there, it took Teddy quite some time to choose which pancakes to get, and then he did everything but eat.

Walking out of the restaurant, up the street to where they were living, something unusual caught the boy's attention. A dog ran towards them.

''Mum!'' He shouted, ''Look! A dog!''

Isla's eyes snapped to it, watching as it came closer. It had quite the speed, and it was aiming right at them. She hurried to pick her son up so that he wouldn't be knocked over.

''It's so fluffy!'' Teddy laughed, seeing it reached them. The dog was crazy. It barked, and jumped onto Isla, ''Mum, I want to pet it!''

Isla pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and then she kneeled, trying to calm the dog, ''Hi,'' She whispered, dragging her hand over his golden fur, ''And who might you be?''

The dog licked her cheek, and for a moment she thought it to be someone she used to know. Her sight narrowed, studying the dog.

It couldn't be, could it? It couldn't be the dog she once got Theo — right? Isla always thought Draco took him. Theodore too. They believed he needed someone so that he wouldn't be utterly alone.

She shook her head in confusion, hearing her son laugh as the dog licked his hand. Isla tightened the grip she had her son in and then she hesitantly whispered, ''Golden?''

The dog stopped, and he looked right at her.

''Golden?'' Isla said again, louder now, ''Is... is that you?''

Golden barked, placing a paw on her knee.

Warmth flushed up inside her, filling her whole self with comfort. ''Hi, boy.'' She laughed, silently. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

Teddy looked confused for a minute, before turning all of his attention back to Golden.

It took her a minute to realize that if Golden was there — so would Draco. He couldn't be heartless enough to leave Golden too, could he? Isla didn't know the blond anymore, she hadn't for a long time. Perhaps he'd changed. Maybe he'd become as cold as they say politicians are.

It wouldn't be strange. He'd worked for years now, and to become the man he was when she first met him — she could understand. He wasn't always kind. No one had been so cruel to her as he'd been. No one had been as heartless.

The first months of knowing each other were pure hell, and it wasn't until she cracked the hard shell around him — that she saw who he really was. He'd never been cruel and heartless. At least, he'd never meant to be those things.

He was insecure and scared.

Draco didn't know what love was, and what it meant.

He was so afraid to love her — to admit loving her.

So afraid that the one time he actually said it, wrote it — was the night he left her. Only then, he found the courage to do so.

Isla was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she couldn't hear the voice calling out for Golden. She didn't hear his voice. She barely recognized it.

"Golden!" He yelled, harshly. "For fucks sake, come here!"

Teddy poked at her shoulder, pointing towards the blond who was walking over to them with severe steps. That was until he saw who Golden had run to.

Isla looked up, meeting those eyes she'd spent so much time longing for. It felt as if someone had torn her heart out. A clenching fist ripped through her, leaving her empty and heaving for air.

Teddy had jumped off her lap, now seated on the ground next to Golden.

She stood up, brushing her hair out of her face. Then she held in that exact position for moments, almost waiting to wake up from the dream she believed to be captured in — but she didn't wake up.

It wasn't a dream.

It was the truth standing a few feet away.

It was Draco Malfoy.

He wore a red coat over his black suit. Isla could only presume it was because he was cold. Even mid-summer, Draco Malfoy froze. He'd told her once, how warm she made him.

He didn't have anyone to make him warm anymore.

His eyes glinted in something — something she'd seen before. Perhaps it was love? Maybe it was the utter fact they'd finally met after six years apart? Maybe he'd longed for her too.

She couldn't tell.

His lips were pushed tight, gritting his teeth behind them. She could see that too. All the times he'd gritted his teeth in an argument, or when she did something he thought to be stupid. His fists were clenched, one of them gripping Golden's leach hard — so hard it whitened his knuckles.

Isla studied him for a moment before she found the courage to speak.

''Draco?'' She asked, hesitantly.

Malfoy tore his sight away from her, looking at the ground. He didn't answer. He swallowed whatever he meant to say. It took him a moment before looking back at her.

''What...'' She managed, tears brimmed in her eyes again, ''What are you—''

''Is that your dog?'' Teddy cut his mother off, both of them staring down at the little boy, ''Because you shouldn't let him run around without his leach.''

Isla looked at the blond. Draco still didn't speak, he nodded instead.

''Mum, why doesn't he speak?''

''Love,'' Isla hushed her son, shaking her head at him, ''We should say goodbye to Golden, and we should go home—''

''Golden?'' Teddy spoke, furrowing his brows, ''How do you know his name is Golden?''

Isla pushed her lips together, realizing she'd have to explain herself. Her son was a curious little soul, and barely a detail could get past him without an explanation.

''He's...'' Isla began, but quickly hushed. She blinked, stressed and confused, ''He's—''

''Your mum used to know his first owner.'' Draco finally said, ''It was an old friend of ours.''

It crackled in her chest again.

An old friend of ours.

Not the love of her life, and the first love of his own.

''Yes,'' She said, rapidly. Quickly in a hurry, ''We used to know his first owner, but now we have to go.''

''But I want to stay with Golden—''

''No,'' His mother said, taking his hand, ''We need to go home. Mila and August will come over soon, and you don't want you two to play in your messy room, do you, Teddy?''

''Teddy?'' Draco let out, almost shocked himself that he spoke it out loud. Isla didn't look at him, she simply narrowed her eyes at her son.

''No...'' Teddy sighed, placing his other hand on Golden's head, ''Bye Golden, mum says I have to go. It was nice meeting you.''

Isla began to back away, turning around before meeting his doomed eyes once again. Draco looked so beaten as if seeing her was pure torture.

''Clarke—''

Isla cleared her throat, ''It's Nott now,'' She said, not looking at him anymore, ''I haven't been Clarke for a long time, not that you'd know.''

''If you could just listen to me, please—''

Ignoring him, she petted Golden on the head, bending down to place a quick kiss on him before she dragged her son with her up the street and back home.

She slammed her door shut, telling Teddy to go clean his room. Only when her son wasn't watching anymore, she felt as if she could slide down against the front door and break down.

Isla cried in silence, hit with the haunting memory of the past.

—

''Draco Malfoy,'' Mila almost choked on her water, slamming the glass back onto the table, ''Are you one hundred percent sure it was Draco?''

''Shut up,'' Leo teased his wife, nudging her to the side, ''Are you saying Isla needs glasses or what?''

''You shut up,'' Mila scrunched her nose, looking annoyed, ''I just want to know if she's sure. There's a lot of arrogant blondes—''

''Don't call him arrogant,'' Leo cut her off, stepping around the kitchen, ''He's the only reason we're here right now.''

''Something he only did because of guilt,'' Mila bit back, ''Don't tell me you're taking his side in this?''

''His side?'' Leo furrowed his brows, ''There aren't any sides to take. He did a stupid thing, and I think he knows that. But that shouldn't shadow everything else he's done, not just for us, but for every student at that school.''

''Oh, sorry,'' Mila rolled her eyes, ''I forgot he was the one convincing Theo to let you take my memories away—''

"Stop it!" Isla burst out, "The kids might hear you."

Both of her friends sighed, looking at her.

"Yes Draco left, and yes he made the marriage law go away, and you two can think whatever you want of him. That's okay. Mila has her experience, and Leo, you have yours. You don't have to think alike when it comes to him. But stop it, stop fighting about it."

It left her heaving. Mila walked over to her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, "What do you think, Isla?"

"I..." She began, shaking her head. The tears were making their way back. She'd tried to keep them out. She tried to fight them, "I don't know."

"How can you not know?" Leo asked, puzzled, "You must've thought about it? How it'd be if he came back?"

"I have," Isla nodded, drawing a deep breath, "I have thought about it, but it always felt so far away. I didn't think it would happen. He left, and we haven't seen him for six years. That's a long time, and a lot of things have happened."

Both of her friends nodded.

"When I realized he wasn't coming back, I was so mad. I couldn't understand how he could do this to us, he never explained it. He never told me why. Then I... I just... I stopped being upset and now I'm just... hurt, I think."

She stopped for a moment, swallowing the lump in the back of her throat.

"It hurts me. It hurts me that he left. I know he must've had a good reason, I don't doubt that, and I can't blame him for it. I just... I don't know, and I don't think I'm ready to know."

Mila tipped her head against Isla's shoulder, giving her all the comfort she possibly could. The couple knew Isla was right to feel the way she did — she didn't have to know.

How could she?

In six years, she'd lost Draco. She finally had Theo, and they'd just started what she thought to be a lifelong journey. Then he left too. She was pregnant, far along as well. Isla barely had time to grieve her husband before her son was born.

Teddy was the best thing that could've happened to Isla Nott. He was sunshine himself. The sweetest boy who'd ever walked the earth. Teddy resembled his father down to his bones. Isla didn't have Theo, but he gave her a piece of him before he left.

Teddy Nott.

"I have Teddy, and I'm not over Theo's death. I don't think I'll ever get over him. I cannot handle more than that. I just can't. I love Draco, I'll always love him, but I don't need him anymore."

It hurt to say it, to come to terms with the fact that it might be how she actually felt. It hurt to feel it. She felt mean. Mean to Draco. Mean to Theo. Mean to Golden.

She didn't know what to do, or how to think. The day Draco came crashing into her life came too soon. Sooner than she could've imagined.

And she did.

She thought about it often.

Sometimes she even looked for him, in crowds, when she was at the store, and when she took Teddy on walks in his stroller. Isla looked for Draco everywhere, and now — now when the time finally came, she didn't know what to do.

"You don't have to decide right now," Mila said, "We'll take Teddy for a couple of days. We were planning to go to the cabin anyway. He could come with us, the kids will have the best time, and you will have some time for yourself."

Leo nodded, agreeing with his wife, "We'd love to take him."

Isla couldn't fight the tears. With her chin tucked against her chest, and her hands covering her face, she let it out. She cried.

"It's okay," Mila whispered, bringing her best friend in for a hug, "It's okay, Isla. You don't have to know what to do. You don't have to do anything. Draco is still here, and I don't think he's going anywhere."

"I was so mean to him," Isla whispered against Mika's hair, "I was so mean to him, Mila. He just wanted to talk and I... I walked away."

"He'd know," Mila whispered back, "He if anyone knows how hard these things can be. He painted his whole house red when his parents died. He dropped out of school for a while, and he walked out on you. He knows exactly how hard it can get."

Isla cried even more. Mila took a step aside, taking Isla's face in her hands and bringing it up to meet her own, "I might now be Draco's biggest fan, but remember that he lost Theo too. Even if he wasn't here for it. They were friends for decades, and this can't be easy for him. Perhaps... Perhaps you can find comfort in each other."

Isla clung to her friend, hugging her so tight, "Thank you." She breathed, "Thank you for being you."

Mila smiled, softly and whispered, "I have you to thank for me being me. You helped me once, let me help you."

"I'll help too," Leo pitched in from the other side of the kitchen. Making all three of them laugh.

—

Mila and Leo had taken Teddy to their cabin for a few days, and suddenly the house felt so empty again.

As it'd felt right after Theodore's death.

She felt so alone as she paced back and forth, almost going insane by the quietness. That was still the hardest part to overcome, how quiet it got after Theo died.

He always mumbled on a song and talked to her even when she wasn't listening. Isla regretted not listening to him more often.

She'd give anything to hear his voice again, so smile as he spoke the most ridiculous things.

To hear him laugh.

Theodore Nott truly had the most beautiful laugh.

She tugged at her hair now, pulling at it. Missing him hurt so much, all the time. It'd been years, yet the pain ached graver for each day. It felt hopeless, and in vain — trying to be better, to feel better, to let him go.

She'd never be able to.

Isla kept restlessly pacing, combing her fingers through her hair, and before she knew it, the clock had passed midnight and a knock on her front door knocked her out of her own mind.

She hesitated to open it.

It was as if she knew who it could be.

No one ever knocked on her door if it wasn't Mila, Leo, or Mrs and Mr. Nott. It couldn't be any of them, not at this time. She stood so still, not moving a muscle.

It knocked again, harder this time.

Isla shook her head, nervously pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she managed to walk up to the front door, placing her hand on the knob of it.

''Please,'' She heard from outside, ''I know you're there.''

Isla's forehead fell onto the wood, closing her eyes.

''Please, I just want to talk, and if you don't want to see me after that, I'm gone.'' Draco continued, ''I need to talk to you, please.''

Isla swallowed hard, nodding to herself as she gripped the doorknob harder, turning it to open the door.

Draco stood there, in the pouring rain.

His clothes were drenched, and drops of heaven fell from his hair. He looked so beaten, just like her.

Stepping aside, she gestured for him to come inside. Draco looked around, threading the wet coat off his shoulders, leaving him in a white shirt. She could see how he'd been tugging at his tie, dragging it loose.

She closed the door and turned to face him fully, ''Can I get you anything?''

''You,'' He said, unexpectedly — as if he let it slip without thinking, and he nervously looked away, ''You can give me a towel, perhaps?''

Isla blinked so quickly, feeling tears burning behind her eyelids, ''Of course,'' She said, walking towards a closet, ''Coffee? Tea?''

''Wine,'' He cleared his throat, ''It's been one of those... days.''

''Years,'' Isla smiled, discreetly for herself, ''But yes, wine it is.''

Draco sat down on the living room couch, studying her as she placed two glasses of wine and a bottle on the table. She could feel his eyes watching her every move. Normally, a person would be frightened by it. Isla wasn't.

It comforted her, somehow — that Draco Malfoy still looked at her in the way he used to.

''So,'' Isla said, slipping down on the very end of the couch, ''What brings you here?''

''Your son,'' Draco mumbled, cracking the bottle open, and pouring liquid into the glasses, ''Is he here?''

''No,'' Isla politely smiled as he handed her the glass, ''He's with Mila and Leo.''

''Where?'' He asked, leaving a puzzled look on Isla's face. He noticed, ''I didn't mean — I just... I just wondered.''

''They have a cabin,'' Isla answered, ''Three hours from here.''

''How are they?'' Malfoy continued, sipping on his wine, ''Leo and Mila?''

''They're doing well. They have a son, August, he's six, and they have a daughter, Ava, she's two.''

"And you?" Draco mumbled, "What about you? Are you doing well?"

"Sometimes," Isla said, bluntly, "It depends on the day. What about you?"

"It depends on the day," He lied. He wasn't doing well. He hasn't been doing well for the past six years.

"What about your life?"

Draco looked at her.

"I mean—" She muttered, "How's work? How's private life? How's golden? Have you been seeing anyone?"

It came out so rapidly, she didn't have time to think about what she said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"It's alright." Draco cut her off, "Work is fine. Private life is fine. Golden is fine, and I haven't been seeing anyone."

The feeling of relief spread through her, easing her heart.

"I haven't been with anyone since I was with you." He finished, pouring more wine.

Isla nodded, not sure what to say next. It all was so strange to her, so confusing yet so clear. Draco had once touched every part of her, her body, her heart, soul, and mind. He'd seen right through her. And she'd seen every piece of him — yet he felt like a complete stranger. Someone she'd never known in the first place.

"Do you still..." She began, feeling stupid for even bringing it up, but she couldn't stop now, "Can you read my mind?"

"No."

Her brown shot up, looking bewildered.

"I haven't... I can't do that anymore. Not since I left." Draco leaned back, "It disappeared when I did. Almost as if it was tied to you."

"But you could do it before you met me?"

"It's complicated."

Isla nodded again.

''One thing, Ava, as in... Ava?'' Draco asked, sounding confused.

''Ava, as in Ava.''

''What happened to her?''

Isla swallowed her wine, dragging a stabbing breath down her throat, ''She's dead.'' It hurt to say it, even if they never spoke again following the last time, ''Her father said it was natural causes, but Leo doesn't believe it.''

''It must've been hard for him. I know Ava was... she was something else, but still, she was his family.'' Draco placed the glass onto the table, turning in his seat to face her.

''He took it hard. He didn't have Mila at the time, so it was... a difficult time.'' Isla looked down at her glass, ''She was just... unlucky. She wasn't always a bad person. Actually, she was one of the best ones I'd known.''

''Could've fooled me,'' Draco muttered, placing his left ankle upon his left knee, leaning back, ''She was awful to you, and she turned Leo in. It's her fault he went to Azkaban.''

''Leo thinks it's his father's fault. He influenced her when he realized he couldn't do it to Leo. Now she's gone, and he's in a facility.'' Isla stopped, glancing up at the blond, ''He got what was coming for him, but you already know that, don't you?''

He blinked, rapidly.

''They just came for him one day, and locked him up.'' Isla continued, pushing the blond, ''And right after that the marriage law was dissolved.''

''I had nothing to do with that.'' Draco said, sternly, ''If someone happened to let the new minister know about what he'd done — that's great, but it wasn't me.''

Isla hushed, reaching for the bottle and bringing it right up to her lips, ''I know you did it for them. You always felt guilty about Leo, and Mila.''

''The marriage law was a fucking decease,'' He almost spat, ''Forcing people to get to know each other, forcing them to fall in love — for what?''

''For them to leave, maybe?'' Isla took a mouthful of wine, swallowing it.

His eyes snapped to her, ''Don't.''

They sat there in silence for a while, neither speaking a word. Isla was deciding what to do, what to say.

She could take the high road, to listen to him and not push it, or she could do what she so desperately wanted — to push him, to find out what she needed to know. Draco would never tell her if he wasn't upset, that much she knew.

He would never talk to her about it if it wasn't during a fight. He always spoke right from his heart as they fought. He always had.

Isla didn't take the high road, and Draco wasn't surprised.

''Don't do what?'' She tipped her head, ''Don't tell the truth?''

''It's not the truth.''

''Bet it isn't.''

He was staring at her now, annoyed. ''You're still fucking impossible I see.''

She stayed quiet.

''I didn't have a choice,'' He reached for his glass, ''I did what was necessary.''

''That was necessary?'' Isla stood up, walked over to the kitchen, and grabbed another bottle of wine, ''You could've just told me that you couldn't be with me — with us.''

''You would've never let me go.''

It ached her heart.

He was right. She knew him to be right.

Still, Isla refused to give in. ''Don't you dare stand there and tell me that you did what was necessary. You did what was necessary for you. Not for me, and not for Theodore."

"And all hell to me for actually doing something for myself for once, right?" Draco spat back, "I couldn't stay. He was dying. I hate myself for it, alright? I fucking hate myself, but I did what I did and I can't change it now."

"You left me!" Isla shouted. Her voice was loud, yet she sounded so defeated, "And you left him, Draco."

His jaws were clenched tight again, teeth gritted. Draco stayed silent.

"You left me, in the worst way possible. You promised me a future, a life together—" Her voice cracked now, sobs broke through, "You promised, and you lied."

"I didn't have a fucking choice!" He shouted back, desperate for her to understand, "I didn't have a fucking choice, Clarke! He was dying. My best friend was dying, and there wasn't anything I could've done."

Isla had hushed, staring blankly at him.

"Don't you think I'd give my fucking life for his? Because I would, in a damn heartbeat. I'd happily die a thousand times over for him to be alive right now." It cracked in his chest, so hard. Nearly as if she could hear it, "Do you believe it was easy for me? Leaving you?"

Isla was the one staying silent now. She couldn't form a word even if she tried. She managed to break through to him, regretting it immediately.

It was more than she could handle. She wasn't ready for this.

"It was fucking torture! I haven't been alive, Isla. I haven't.... I haven't lived. I've barely existed. And I'm so fucking sorry for leaving you, okay? I'm sorry, but I couldn't stay and watch my best friend die."

Isla looked away, drying her tears with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I knew he was going to die. The curse is lethal. He knew it too, he just didn't want you to know and..." Draco hushed, looking away, "I wanted him to have you for the time he had left."

Her eyes snapped back, rapidly. She glared at him now, "You wanted him to have me? To have me, Malfoy? Like I'm some sort of possession? An object to be owned?"

"I didn't say that—"

"You've always said that! You've always had to have me, to own me, to win me. You could never just be with me."

He furrowed his brows, "That's not true."

"It is!" Throwing her arms out, standing up, "You know it is."

"And you're trying to spin things around not to face them," Draco stood up too, walking closer to her, "You always do. You push me and you make me open up until I give you all of it, and then you can't handle it, so you start grasping for straws not to face it."

Isla backed away, "I want you to leave now."

"See?" Draco grabbed his coat off the chair in the hallway, clenching his fist around it, "I don't understand why you want to know all of me, and then you shut down once you have it?"

He paused, looking at her and just taking her in. His eyes were scouting all over her, from her slippers up to her eyes. It was as if he gave her one last look.

"I'm not..." Isla tried, "I'm not over Theo, and this was a mistake. I'm sorry."

Draco looked so sad. His eyes glinted in something broken. He took slow steps up to her, halting right at her feet. He still looked at her, searching her soul.

"I'm sorry too," He breathed the words out. Carefully he let his hand up, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his touch linger for a while before he said, "If you only knew how sorry I am."

Then he turned around and walked out. Leaving Isla out of breath and shattered.

—

When Leo and Mila came back with the kids a few days later, she asked Leo to wait for her outside. She needed some guidance. Isla needed Leo to tell her what to do, and what to think, and she didn't want her son to hear it. Puzzled, he agreed.

"Did something happen?" He wondered, looking at her as she closed the front door behind her, and slipped onto the stairs next to him.

"Draco came here," Isla said, looking out over her front yard, "A few days ago, in the middle of the night."

"He came here?" Leo asked confused, "In the middle of the night?"

"He did," She sighed, dragging her hands across her face, "We fought."

"Oh, Isla," Leo placed a hand on her knee, squeezing it, "What did he want?"

"He just wanted to talk, to talk about Theo and I— I was so unfair to him. I blamed him, and I said things I didn't mean."

"You've had many fights," Leo said, "Too many fights and I bet he's said a thing or two that he doesn't mean. He if anyone should understand what's said in the heat of the moment."

"I was so mean to him, Leo. I didn't listen to him, and I... I just blamed him for not being there for Theo," Isla hushed, looking at her best friend, "I know it's not his fault, alright? I know he left because he couldn't see Theodore go through all of that, and I know he just wanted to give us time together, but I—"

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to keep going, "But I'm so mad at myself for not understanding how sick he was. I hate myself for not knowing and I took it out on him."

Her friend nodded, slowly, "Again, he blamed you many times for things you didn't do, or meant to do. You need to stop being so hard on yourself and understand that he isn't what you think of him. Do you think you've changed these past few years?"

"I guess."

"So has he. Don't think for him, don't think he's upset with you — ask him. There's no point in going around and feeling bad for things you can't control. If you want to make it work, make it work, and if you don't — then be human enough to tell him."

"You were always the smart one, you know that right?" Isla smiled, nodding, "I should go and see him, shouldn't I?"

"You should, and you should tell him how you feel, Isla. Don't give him false hope, and do anything you don't want to do. If you want to be with him, be with him."

She let her head fall to his shoulder, seeking comfort, "Thank you."

—

Draco Malfoy.

A month has passed since he last saw her.

He was so angry with himself — that he went to see her that night. It took him days to even decide to do so, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

Ever since he met her out on the street that day, he couldn't stop imagining what his life could've been. What it could be, with her.

So he did what Theodore had told him to do, he did something selfish and he went to visit her. He didn't mean to stay long, or even to come inside. He just wanted to see her, to hear how she was doing.

He left with a heavier feeling than what he'd entered with. It broke his heart even more. He didn't think it was possible to feel more shattered than he already was.

The blond wasn't upset with Isla for pushing him. He couldn't blame her, he'd done it too — too many times.

He'd blamed her and put guilt upon her for doing things in a way he wouldn't to them. Now she did the same. He wasn't angry, just hurt.

Draco spent a few days at the house he'd once gotten them. It made him feel better, comforted as his already shattered life crumbled around him.

He filled the days with painting the walls, picking out some new furniture, and updating the outdated house.

Making it brand new, erasing the haunting memories of Isla that still lived there.

It was quiet, echoing, and peaceful. It was so silent that his thoughts stilled. He enjoyed it — he cherished it.

It was the first time in years, some peace came to his mind. It felt nice.

But that peace didn't last too long, because before he knew it — he froze as he heard the lock of the front door turn. Keeping extremely still, he listened and he could tell who it was by her steps.

She stumbled in, and she stopped. He believed it to be because of all the changes he'd made. Isla probably didn't recognize it.

He could hear her sigh and mutter all through the first floor, touching things, tripping things over. He couldn't help but to smile for himself.

She had changed so much, still, she was the same girl he'd fallen so deeply in love with years ago.

He could hear her take tender steps up the stairs, closing in on him. Draco was unable to decide what he was going to do. He wanted to see her, of course, but at the same time he wanted to run and hide, underneath a bed perhaps, or in a closet.

He didn't have much time left, feeling his heart as it was pounding in his chest.

''Hello?''

Her voice sent shivers down his spine. The sense of seeing a ghost was back, and he panicked. Draco lost it and quickly ran over to the window sill. Placing his hand on the wood, he casually leaned against it.

It looked ridiculous. He knew it.

Fuck, he hated himself more now.

''Draco?'' Isla whispered, sneaking her head inside the bedroom door, ''Draco what are you—''

''What are you doing here?'' He said, still leaning against the window, but his arms were folded closed over his chest.

She took another step inside, sighing, ''I didn't know where else to go.''

''What?'' His expression dramatically changed into seriousness, ''Did something happen? Where's Teddy?''

Isla just shook her head, ''He's with his grandmother. Mrs. Nott always has him every other weekend when Mr. Nott is home from work.''

''Yeah?'' Draco asked, confused.

He'd seen Mrs. Nott occasionally throughout the years. She'd never spoken a word about Theodore's son. The feeling of betrayal came crawling over him — yet he couldn't blame her. He never asked about Isla or Theo.

''Yes,'' She looked around, noticing how much he'd changed the house, ''Are you selling this place?''

''Perhaps.''

He wasn't. Of course, he wasn't. It was their place. It always would be. If they never ended up with each other — he'd burn it to the ground before he died. Never could he give it up.

He didn't know why he said what he'd said. Draco regretted it immediately.

''Oh,'' She let out, quietly, ''I see.''

''No, I don't know. I haven't been here for a long time.''

Isla took steps closer, growing uncomfortable with the echoing silence. Draco knew it to be hard for her, to be there. After all, he'd locked her up in that room when he left her. He came back after a day, and he watched as Theodore entered the house, and came back out with her in his arms.

She looked terrible, and he loathed himself for doing that to her, but he needed her to hate him. He was desperate for her to let him go. If she came looking for him — he'd melt right back in seconds.

''I wanted to see you,'' She said, stopping at the edge of the bed. He'd changed all about that house, except the room she'd been locked into, ''I wanted to apologize for last time.''

''Don't,'' He snapped. It came out ruder than he wanted it to, ''Don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.''

''I do,'' Isla kept going, ''I was rude to you, and shouldn't have been. You're hurting, just like me. So, I'm sorry.''

''You lost your husband—''

''And you lost your best friend.''

Draco hushed at that. It hurt. It felt like something ruptured inside him. What came to mind, was a Christmas night many years ago. It was a special night. Theodore's family celebrated with him, and they gave each other rings as presents. Made out of silver.

Draco still wore his.

He'd never taken it off.

''You lost Theo too,'' Isla continued, ''And it's not fair of me to be upset with you for what you did years ago. Life is too short and too fragile.''

The blond nodded, slowly. His stressed expression turned to a softer one. He liked it when Isla talked about Theodore. She did it with something so sweet in her voice. As if she brought him back to life by speaking of him.

''I miss him, and I took it out on you when we last saw each other. It wasn't fair and I'm sorry.''

''I'm sorry too,'' Draco stepped nearer, using slow steps, ''I'm sorry I wasn't there for you when he died. I regret nothing as much as I regret that. And I am sorry for not being there for him. He needed me, and I left.''

''You did,'' She said, looking at him, ''But no one understood that the way Theo did. It was hard on him, at first, but I think he realized why you left.''

Draco frowned, she noticed.

''He stopped being upset at you for leaving. The first couple of weeks, we were too upset to do anything, but one day — he just stopped, and he started living again. I think he realized at that point, why you left, and he couldn't be mad at you for choosing yourself.''

''I couldn't, Clarke. I just... I couldn't.'' Draco turned his stare out the window, watching the trees outside, ''I couldn't live with myself if I stayed and just watched him die.''

''He wasn't dying all the time,'' Isla stopped him, making him look at her, ''I know he was, but still, he wasn't. He was so alive. We traveled, quite a lot. He learned how to bake properly, we took dance classes. He started and stopped writing his book. We renovated our kitchen ourselves, and I know that sounds silly, but he lived Draco, more than you think.''

Draco smiled at that. The thought of Theodore living his life to its fullest was heartwarming. He just regretted not being there to see it for himself.

''Mrs. Nott always says that she thinks about Theo at the hospital, or when he was in pain — she has a hard time remembering him in other ways than that, but I don't. I can only see him alive, and happy. That's how I'll remember him, as the person he was, not what the blood curse turned him into.''

''Teddy,'' Draco swallowed, ''Have you—''

''He's not carrying it.'' Isla said, sitting down on the bed, ''We take tests every year, but he doesn't have it, not yet at least, but the doctors say he doesn't have the genes for it.''

''Isn't it genetic?''

''They think that his biological father wasn't his actual father.'' Isla sighed, ''They think his mother... cheated, and that his father was so angry with his wife that he forced her into making Theo his test subject. He gave him the curse to see if he could heal himself, he would never do that to his biological son.''

Draco had never been so confused.

''And his mother, she was too weak to stand against it, so she let her husband torture Theodore.''

It was a lot to take in, too much to understand.

Draco knew about what his birth parents had done to him, and he understood why his father had done it, why his father cursed Theo with the curse, but he never understood how he could do it to his own son — he understood now. His father knew he wasn't his biological father either, and he punished Theodore's birthmother by using her son.

''I'm glad he burnt them alive,'' Draco almost spat, the thought of his birth parents made him furious, ''And I'm glad his aunt and uncle took him in. They deserved him, those other monsters — they didn't.''

''I'm relieved that he wasn't Theodore's father,'' Isla said, ''It means that Teddy is safe.''

Draco nodded with a sign, then he went to sit down on the chair next to the bed. He couldn't be too close to her, refused to. He could barely keep it together in her hallway a month ago.

''Was he...'' Draco didn't quite know how to ask, ''Your son, were you trying?''

Isla shook her head, making her hair spill all over her shoulders, ''We weren't, but we always said we wouldn't mind it if it happened — it just never happened. But I don't think he dared to, because of the curse.''

He nodded, studying her again. He loved doing that. Surveying all of her. Her lips as she spoke. Her eyes, how they glinted, talking about something she adored. Her skin looked soft.

''Then, he died and I was pregnant. I can't help but think that he sent Teddy to me, for me to have a piece of him here.''

'' That sounds like something Nott would do,'' Draco said, ''He wouldn't just leave you to be alone if you know what I mean.''

It became quiet again.

They had so much to tell each other, and to talk about, but they didn't. Like they didn't know how to — they knew everything about each other once, and now they knew nothing.

"I miss you," She said, breaking the silence.

It came out so fast that he had to think twice if he heard her right.

"But I understand if you don't miss me."

He knitted his brows together, frowning at her, "Why would you say that?"

"Because my life is so different now. I have a child, and I'm a widow. I married your best friend and he died, we just..." Isla huffed, looking out the window. She fiddled with her fingers, he remembered how she used to do that when she was nervous.

"We aren't the same people anymore."

"What do you want from me?" Draco asked back, but not as harshly as it could sound — he was truly sincere.

"I want... you." Isla admitted, making his fists clench around the armrests, "I've been thinking about it, and I want to be with but I can't."

His jaws clenched.

"I can't be with you, because you're his best friend. It feels so wrong of me to miss you, and it makes me feel terrible to want to be with you."

They never spoke about it, he presumed. Theodore left Draco with a letter, telling him to go and be with the love of his life, but how could he ever tell her that when she was so determined it was wrong?

If he just showed her the letter — told her about it, they would be fine, they could be together.

He couldn't.

He couldn't tell her.

She should want this too, without Theodore's permission.

Draco didn't say anything instead he said, "I should've just stayed gone," He leaned back in the chair, "Then we wouldn't be here."

"I'm glad you didn't," Isla admitted again, "I'm glad I got to see you again."

Warmth spread inside him again, beginning to heal all the wounds he'd kept locked away.

"I do miss you, Malfoy," She said, "Even if we can't do this, I wanted you to know that."

Say it back. Say it back. Say it back.

Tell her you love her you stubborn idiot.

Fucking tell her.

Draco switched a bit in his chair, glancing out the window again. The sun began to set, and he said, "It's getting late."

Damn coward.

Isla stood up, brushing her skirt off, "I should go," She said.

It left a hole in him.

Something only she could heal.

"Yeah," Draco followed her, "I'll walk you out."

He walked behind her all the way downstairs.

"Are you sure you don't want company? It's getting dark outside."

Isla just shook her head, "I'm fine," She said, politely, smiling at him.

Draco opened the front door for her as she strode past him, and just as she was meant to turn around to say goodbye, Isla tripped on the threshold.

Of course, she tripped. He shouldn't be surprised.

She was still the same girl who threw herself off the Astronomy tower just to spite him.

Draco moved fast, holding out his arm for her and he caught her at the right time.

His heart began to pound again, feeling her as she clung to him. Her hands gripped his arms, slowly moving towards his neck.

Draco couldn't move — didn't want to move. He could feel her skin underneath her coat and shirt. It felt so soft, softer than he'd remembered. And it was so warm. She was warm. He'd forgotten just how warm she was, and how warm she made him.

"I'm sorry," Isla breathed, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. Neither moved an inch. They simply stood there, locked in each other's grip.

He bent his head down a little, feeling as her fingers reached his neck. His nose was touching hers, and he could feel the violent beat of her heart against him.

She didn't say anything, still, she inched up just a little and he could feel her hot breath on his lips. He could go feral right there.

But Draco didn't. Instead, he did something he'd regretted before even speaking the words. "I'm sorry," He whispered against her lips, "But I can't do this."

He could feel her heart as it stopped and her warm touch suddenly turned cold. The soft look upon her changed into something hurt.

He hated himself. Fuck how he hated himself.

He saw how tears began to glint in the corner of her eyes, and she nodded, "I know."

Isla threaded herself out of his grip, standing on her own and brushing her coat off. She gave him the most understanding smile yet. Looking so sad, yet so loving.

Turning around again, she didn't make it two feet away from him until he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her back in.

Draco kept her so close, too close — dangerously close and before either of them knew it, he kissed her.

He let his lips collide with hers, and for the very first time — in years, he felt as if he'd found home.

Isla kissed him back, softly.

It felt so right, and so wrong at the same time. The perfect collision of what could and shouldn't be.

It hurt.

"I shouldn't have done that," Draco mumbled against her, leaving one last kiss on her lips.

"I'm glad you did," Isla whispered, tears in her eyes.

Draco pulled away, looking down at the one girl he thought he'd spend the rest of his doomed life with.

"In a different life, perhaps," He said, tracing his fingers up and brushing a fallen tear from her cheek.

Isla didn't say anything else, she couldn't. He knew that. It hurt them both more than it did them any good.

She stretched up on her toes, and she placed a kiss on his cheek, then she turned around.

He watched as she went, and he'd miss her forever.

Isla disappeared and Draco let her go.

—

Six months had passed, and still, he thought of her every single day — every minute of every hour, and he couldn't stop.

Draco had no one to talk to, he had no friends, and no family still living. He was utterly alone, and the one person he'd always been able to talk to about her was dead.

He felt lost, and confused.

Malfoy thought of his best friend again. Perhaps he could find the answers he was looking for where he'd been laid to rest.

He apparated himself to Theo's old house and walked his way through the forest down to where he was buried.

It was beautiful, the grass had begun to turn green again, but it was blooming like never before right around that golden tree.

It was always flourishing near it.

You could sit there mid-winter, with snow falling from the skies, but it melted the second it touched the ground, merging with the flowers.

Beautiful it was.

He halted a few feet away. He didn't know how to do it, how to talk to his late best friend. The guilt of leaving Theo tore him apart. It took him more than a few minutes to seek and find the courage to walk the last steps.

Draco looked around, making sure no one else was there, and then he sat down, legs crossed.

"Hello, mate," He said. It felt strange, not receiving an answer. He looked down at the grass, sighing, "I'm not sure this is the way to do it, but I think it is."

Malfoy tried to overcome all his regret, "I used to talk to my parents this way. I haven't been to their grave in a long time... It doesn't feel right. It feels as if they'll be disappointed in me."

He paused, looking up at the skies above him instead, tears began to form in his icing eyes.

"My mother wouldn't speak to me again if she knew I walked out on you, and my father would disown me. They'd hate me, Nott. They would, and I can't... I can't visit them, not anymore."

Draco stared at the stone in front of him. He'd never seen what was engraved on it.

Theodore Nott.

A loving husband, son, and friend.

Still seen in every sunset & sunrise, illuminating a now darker world.

A tear escaped his eye at that.

Theodore truly was the sun, and the world had become a much darker place without him in it.

Draco felt as if something was missing, and he raised his wand against the stone, mumbling a spell to fix it.

' A loving husband, father, son, and friend.'

It warmed his cold heart.

It felt right now.

"I miss you, Nott." He spoke again, "It's not what it used to be anymore. Even after I left, everything felt the same, but it hasn't, not since you died."

The fact that Theodore had died became more and more real every time he dared to say it.

He combed his fingers through his hair, and tugged it back, "You died. You fucking died, Theo. How could you do that to me?"

His voice became louder as he stood up, staring down at the grave. "You fucking left me!" Draco shouted, throwing his arms out, "After everything we went through — you fucking left me!"

Heaving, he stepped back, "How could you? How could you not tell me? You damn fucking coward. I did everything for you, and you couldn't even tell me you were sick?"

He got it all out there, everything he'd been feeling for the past years.

"How could you do that to me? How could you leave me alone in this fucking hell of a life, Nott? And with your damn wife? Do you even know how difficult she is? Of course you do, you were the one married to her."

Isla took over his thoughts again, like a never-ending nightmare, and a dream he wouldn't let go of.

"Why would you give me that damn letter? She doesn't want to be with me, Nott. Because she's not fucking over you, and I—" He paused again, taking a deep breath, "And neither am I."

He gave his surroundings a suspicious glare again before he turned back to Theodore's grave.

He'd calmed down a bit, not talking as loud anymore, "I've accepted the fact that you're not here anymore, I have. I want you to go in peace, mate. But I'll never accept that I wasn't there for you, and it drives me insane. All of this damn guilt is killing me. I know you said I shouldn't feel guilty, but I do. I feel so fucking guilty, all the time."

And just like that, a light sparked before him, blending him as he put his hand up, covering his eyes.

"You're as impossible as she is, you know that right?"

Draco lost his breath, coughing wildly standing up.

It was Theodore.

He was standing right in front of him. His body glinted in the light, something so bright. As if he stood in front of the sun. Yet, he could see right through him. He was transparent.

A ghost.

Draco turned around again, staring into the woods around him. "Is this a fucking joke?" He yelled out, "It's not funny."

"You're not insane, Malfoy. Now stop shouting."

Draco turned back to his best friend, his mouth agape until he managed to form a sentence. "What... how is it possible?"

"It's not. I've never been able to do this, not even with Isla, but now — I could because you're not listening to me."

The blond frowned. Theodore's voice echoed around him.

"I died, Malfoy. I died, and I gave you what you needed to move on, to stop torturing yourself."

"It's not enough," Draco shook his head, "I can't let go of everything I've been feeling just because you wrote me a letter."

"Why? I forgave you for leaving. I would've done the same thing. If you were dying, I'd run for the hills too. Anything not to see you fade away. Don't punish yourself for being human, mate."

Draco's jaws clenched, and his fists tightened, "It's not that simple."

"It should be. And Malfoy, it's alright to love her. Loving her doesn't take me away from her."

It hit him right in the chest.

"I think the guilt you're feeling now, isn't for leaving me. It's for loving her. Ever since you saw her again, you've been going insane, am I right?"

"Yeah, but it's not—"

"It is, and that's alright, Draco. You loved her too, and then you left. You let us live a beautiful life together, and for that, I'll always be thankful. But it's your turn to live a beautiful life with her now. Don't waste it. I'd know that life is short and it's fragile. Don't let yourself wake up in twenty years, alone. You'll regret it, more than you'll know."

The tears burnt behind the lids of his eyes. It stung.

"And... and my son needs someone to look out for him. Isla is an amazing mother, but she's too kind. Too kind for her own good, she needs someone to bring her back down on earth from time to time. They will need you."

"You..." Draco swallowed the lump in the back of his throat, "You know about him?"

"I do. I did. I noticed about a month in, that she was pregnant. But I couldn't tell her. It felt selfish to ask her to take a test — to be happy with her when I knew I couldn't be there for her. I wanted her to find out once I was gone. I performed some magic on her when she was asleep, making sure the baby was fine, every night at one point. Hearing his heartbeat, and counting his fingers... It gave me all I needed before I died."

"Teddy..." Draco huffed, glancing up at his best friend.

"Teddy Malfoy Nott."

"What?" His eyes grew large in disbelief. Isla never told him that.

"I had a feeling she'd name him after the both of us. Isla wouldn't be Isla if she didn't. He's a beautiful boy, isn't he?"

"He is. He looks like you."

"But he'll turn out like you."

Theodore smiled at him, softly.

"Don't give her up, Malfoy. Take care of our girl for me, please?"

"Don't go," Draco pleaded, taking a step closer, "Please—"

"You'll be a good father and a good husband. I'd know, you took care of me for years without even knowing it. You made me become the best version of myself, every time. Thank you for that."

"Theo—"

"Thank you for being my best friend. I love you, mate. Never forget that."

Draco closed his eyes. Pinched them shut for just a second, and when he opened it — the illumination of Theo was gone.

And he was all alone again.

Until,

"Draco?"

Malfoy turned around, startlingly. She caught him off guard.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. It came out rougher than he meant for it to do. Folding his arms over his chest.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," Isla answered, studying him. He noticed how her eyes scanned him head to toe.

"I never come here."

"I know," She was quick to reply, "But this is where I go when I don't know what else to do."

He nodded, still looking puzzled at her.

"I just came to say goodbye," She mumbled, nervously fiddling with the edge of her shirt.

Malfoy glared at her, "Goodbye?"

"We're leaving," Isla said, glancing away from him. It was as if she couldn't look at him while saying it.

"What?" His voice turned severe, "What do you mean you're leaving?"

Isla stared at the ground now. The wind danced through her hair, "We're moving."

"The hell you are." Draco fired, walking closer, "You're not moving. What the fuck are you on about?"

"We can't be together, and that's the one thing we can agree on? We're fighting all the time." Isla spoke from her heart, "Even before you left, we fought each other in every little thing, and I can't do that anymore. I have a child to think about, and I need to do this for the both of us—"

"Yeah?" He cut her off, "Yeah, we're fighting all the time, and I'll keep fighting you. I rather fight you in every little thing, and have a life full of fighting than lose you all over again."

He meant that, down to the bone. All the way through him. He'd rather live a flawed life with her, than faultless life without her. He'd choose her through all misery.

Isla frowned, giving him a grimace of disbelief, "You can't even say my damn name, Draco!"

"Isla."

He was yelling at her now, staring right through her, "Isla. Isla. Isla."

She was left speechless.

"And you know what, Isla?" Draco continued, "I fucking love you. I love you, Isla."

He walked even closer, not stopping until he was standing right in front of her. His hands cupped her cheeks.

He looked so softly at her, "I love you, Isla. I am so fucking in love with you, and I can't live without you. I've tried and I would rather die than do that again."

She stared up at him from beneath her lashes, blinking so quickly.

"I love you, Isla Nott, more than you'll ever know."

Tears filled her eyes, and she breathed heavily. Both opening and closing her mouth, she was again left at a loss of words.

"I know it hurts, to move on hurts. I hurt too, but I know I'll hurt more without you."

Isla nodded, slowly, and just as she parted her lips to speak — he pushed his finger against them.

"To be with me, doesn't erase him," Draco almost whispered, "He'll always be here, and he'll always mean everything, no matter what."

"He was there," Isla whispered, moving her stare down to his chest, "He was there when you weren't. I know that loving you doesn't take him away, but what I don't know — is that you'll stay this time."

His heart broke down. Stopped beating.

"You left me when I needed you, and what if you'll leave me again?" Isla kept going, "I got over you once, because of Theo, and I don't know if I'll be able to do that again."

"Love..." Draco lifted her chin, letting his forehead meet hers, "I won't. I wouldn't be able to leave you again, even if I tried. You're it, Isla. I know my word means nothing to you, but I'll stay with you, for the rest of my life if you'll have me."

Isla was crying even more now, tears falling down her rosy cheeks. She clung onto him, her arms locked behind his neck.

"Of course, I want you," She said, "I'll always want you."

Draco smiled.

He didn't smile much these days. He hadn't been, not for years, but now he did, and for the first time he felt good about it. He didn't feel guilty or ashamed for being happy.

"And," Isla began, dragging her fingers through his blond hair, "I love you, Draco."

He dipped down and he kissed her. He kissed her fiercely, and deeply. It was full of life — of longing and missing.

It all fell back into place at that moment.

All the years he'd been suffering, finally came to an end. Just like that. He'd mourn his best friend for the rest of his life, but he wouldn't do it alone anymore.

Their broken souls were tangled and twisted into a healing one.

One didn't erase the other.

It finally was what it always was meant to be all along.

—

One year later.

Isla and Draco got married on a Thursday, with Teddy and their friends present. It was beautiful, she still thought about that day — every day.

Finally, after years of searching, she figured out that loving Draco didn't leave less space for her memories of Theo.

It created more.

She had a place for both of them.

Draco was an amazing husband. He made her feel loved and cherished every day. Isla loved him more and more for every minute that passed.

Sometimes, she was sad that she'd missed out on so much time with him. She'd forgotten just how incredible that blond man was.

He loved Teddy as if he was his own, and Teddy let him. They talked about Theo often, no one told stories about Theodore Nott as Draco did, and Teddy sat there like a light, listening to him.

Laughing with him.

It didn't take long until Teddy asked Draco to be his father too. The thought of two days wasn't strange to that little boy, who wasn't that little anymore.

It gave him more people to love, more people to be loved by.

Their little family still lived in the house she'd gotten with Theodore. Still slept in the same bed. Ate breakfast out on the balcony.

Teddy ran upstairs every evening to watch the sunset with them. It was his dad, he said.

They visited Theodore every week, sometimes more. It was heartwarming, and it made them all feel complete.

Theodore Nott had died, still he was still so present. As if he'd been there with them in person. He lived on through them, all of them.

Today, was one of those days.

They got ready, and they went to see the one they missed so badly.

It was sunny, the wind was gentle and the flowers bloomed more than ever.

Teddy and Draco played on the field, chasing each other, and laughing.

Until her husband came running towards her instead.

"I have something for you," Draco said, pulling a letter out of his pocket, "I wasn't supposed to give this to you until now."

Isla frowned, looking strangely at the piece of paper in his hand, "What is it?" She asked as she took it from him.

"It's from Theodore."

Her stare snapped right to him, barely breathing, "What did you say?"

"Don't ask questions," Draco looked at her so softly it melted her heart, "Just read it."

Then he ran back to Teddy, grabbing the little boy and throwing him over his shoulder. Teddy was laughing so much it made her smile.

Isla looked down at the piece of paper in her hand, and with shaking fingers, she opened it.

'Hi, you.

Isla.

My pretty girl.

I never wished for this.

I never wished for our story to end this way — it had just begun.

If you're reading this, it means he did what I asked him to do. He gave it to you, once you finally accepted that he could be the love of your life too. I bet you didn't make it easy for him. I bet you fought him in every little thing.

You wouldn't be you if you didn't.

I remember the last time I wrote you a letter. I said that I probably stood just a couple of feet away, loving the hell out of you. I've done exactly that. I've spent the last couple of years loving the absolute hell out of you — and at last, it'll bring me to heaven.

I spent years lost and seeking something that was taken from me. I waited for my safety to return. It didn't.

It seemed hopeless, and all in vain.

Until I met you.

I think I know where you are right now, as you're reading this. I think you're sitting at the exact place I spent so many hours at. Where a boy once lost everything.

A boy who wished for a better life — a life worth living.

A boy who wished for Christmas presents. A boy who played with his friends, helped his mother cook dinner. A boy who had plans, dreams, and wishes. A boy who at last considered life as something evil, and would live to see the burning flames of hell.

There you had me.

That was my truth.

Until you changed it.

I'd lost everything, and then I was given you.

I said that I saw you as my redemption, as someone who was made for me. I never thought I was right about anything in life, but I was right about you. And out of all the things in life, ripping me apart, you put me back together.

You changed me for the better, but it's time for me to go now.

I'm sorry, my love.

I am so sorry for keeping this from you.

But I couldn't look you in those beautiful eyes if you knew. I couldn't live with myself if I broke you — so I lied.

I lied to protect you, and I know you don't feel that way. You feel as if you betrayed me, but you did the opposite. You gave me a life worth living.

A life where my curse wasn't lethal. A life where I wasn't dying.

You gave me a life worth fighting for. A life I truly fought for.

I fought so hard to stay with you, my love. But all things at one point or another — must come to an end. Even so, if it's a bittersweet one.

I'm not sad that I'm dying.

I am sad that I am forced to leave you.

I'd live with the curse for lifetimes if it meant I'd get to live them with you. I'd live in pain and agony forever, just to be able to look at you, to hear your voice, and feel your skin against mine.

What saddens me, isn't death, my love. It's that I'm not leaving with you, in our late eighties, with our children and grandchildren saying farewell.

Now I have to pass on alone, and I'll happily do so because you're alive. You're alive and I'll live through you. You might think I'm gone, that I've simply vanished earth, but I'm right here, with you — all the time.

Both of you.

You and our son.

I'm sorry that I never told you about him. I couldn't. I couldn't give you hope, and then take it all away from you. I wanted you to find out after I was gone. So that you had something to live for again.

So live for me, darling.

Live for me, for yourself, our son, and please Isla — live with him.

Just as you'd been made for me, you were made for him too. You're it for me, and you're it for him.

It will always be okay, loving both of us.

One doesn't erase the other.

Let him love you, let him be with you, let him take care of you and, love — take care of him.

Draco won't let it show, he'll hide it so deep within himself, but he's hurting too. He's been through hell on his own, just like you. Find comfort in each other, and let yourselves heal.

You two, if anyone, deserves it the most.

Live a life worth remembering, and love each other with all you have. Love my son. Time is a fragile thing, my heart. As my birth mother once said — the world chooses the prettiest flowers, picks them up, and lets them go too soon.

You will always be the prettiest flower in my world, and I will never pick you up. I want to see you bloom and blossom. I'd like to watch as you flourish and grow.

And I'll be here, waiting for you once you're ready.

You are the true definition of love, and your love is beautiful, Isla. Thank you for the years you let me feel it, for letting me feel you, and for feeling me.

I love you, my pretty girl.

— Theodore.'

Isla folded the paper back down, and she smiled. Tears filled her eyes as she looked out over the nature in front of her, resting against the golden tree.

She could still feel him, Theodore, engraved in her heart and soul.

Isla didn't need to let him go, because he was still there, with her — all the time. He was the blood pouring through her veins, the beat of her heart.

Both of them were.

As Theodore had written, one doesn't erase the other.

It was never a choice for her, she could've never chosen between the two. After the sun, came midnight, and as the moon had gone to rest, sunshine lighted up the world again.

It would always be them to her.

Isla finally had that rain she wished so badly for, after all, and it was Theodore Nott himself. He'd always bring her and Draco together, no matter where he was. All three of them.

Isla smiled as she watched her husband and son play together in the fields of flowers blooming. Seeing how happy Draco and Teddy made each other — made her happy.

He was her home now.

Draco.

They both had her, got to have her — to love her. At different times. In their ways. And she had the luck to have had them — to love them and be loved by them.

She knew Theodore Nott would be so happy for them. Wherever he ended up, he was smiling down at them. Finally, they found each other again.

That they were the parents of his child.

Their little Teddy.

It would always be them to her. It was always them, Theodore and Draco. The very loves of her life.

Her first, and last.

They always kept her safe, and they would, forever. Until the end of this lifetime, and onto the next.

In every lifetime. Always would they protect her — make her feel loved, and desired.

The end.