For the hundredth time, I attempted to put quill to parchment, but as usual, I didn't get any further than I'm sorry for your loss. It sounded so crap and insincere.

I sat back heavily in my chair, blowing air. The Christmas break was coming up and Albus had asked if we could have Scorpius over for part of it. Of course, I would have loved to have him over, except I was anxious over how to broach the subject with Draco.

I had no idea how he was coping since Astoria's death. It had been eight months since our heated exchange in this very office and I felt it would have been highly inappropriate for me to offer my condolences.

"I could write to him, if you like?" Hermione offered when I vented my frustrations to her. "As Minister for Magic, I mean. I could offer my condolences and ask if there's anything the Ministry can do to help support him with Scorpius."

That didn't sound like a bad idea, although it didn't fix the problem of how to approach him about having Scorpius over for Christmas.

It turned out; I needn't have worried. The letter Hermione sent had sorted that one out.

"You know, you didn't have to get your friend to write to me, Potter. You could have just asked me yourself."

I looked up from my desk to see Draco standing over me. I must have been so absorbed in what I was doing, because I hadn't even heard him enter until his cold drawling voice rang in the air.

His tired pale eyes met mine and, for the first time since we had become adults, he looked almost old. He stood stiffly, looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

"I didn't think it appropriate," I murmured, not being able to meet his eye, "you know... given our history."

"Our sons are friends. We can't avoid that." He said stoutly.

"How's Scorpius doing?" I asked, trying to tread carefully.

"How do you think he's doing? His mother is dead."

I flinched at the hostility of his tone.

Slowly, I put down my quill and forced myself to meet Draco's eyes.

"Albus has asked if Scorpius can stay over for part of the Christmas break. Of course, I'm more than happy to have him, but I understand if you want him to remain with you."

I couldn't read the expression on his face. It was pinched in a hard, cold stance. The greyness in his eyes lacked their usual twinkle.

"I'm sure my son would just be miserable stuck at home with only myself there, anyway," he muttered, already turning to leave. "Owl me the dates and I'll have him dropped off. And don't bother going through Granger this time."

"Draco-" I started, not wanting him to leave like this.

"What?" He spat fiercely, cutting me off angrily as he glared coldly back at me.

"Are you alright?"

"What do you think, Potter?" A dark shadow fell across his face as his lip curled into a sneer.

And before I could think of a response, he strode out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

*****

"Miss Potter, I've just had Tom the innkeeper on the phone and he wants someone to go down and sort out a disturbance."

I looked up from my paperwork, frowning at Carol who had just timidly popped her head around the door.

"What kind of disturbance? And why are you telling me? I'm head Auror- surely there's some minion lower down in the food chain that can sort this out?"

"All at Christmas parties, I'm afraid. You're the only one left."

Christmas parties? I didn't remember getting any sodding invites. Well, every last one of them could forget their fucking bonuses this Christmas.

"Oh, all right, then," I said huffily, throwing my paperwork aside and angrily pushing my chair back. I glanced at the clock - it was nine o'clock in the evening. Fuck, I really needed to get a life.

I Apparated outside the Leaky Cauldron, trying not to freeze to death. Shivering, I withdrew my wand and entered the packed pub.

Everyone sounded merry, Christmas music was playing, and people were cheering and toasting glasses all around. Faces were flushed and happy.

It was fucking sickening.

I pushed my way through the crowds, fighting to get to the bar.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" I bellowed, holding my identification badge out in front of me. "HEAD AUROR COMING THROUGH!"

But fat lot of good that did, everyone was too pissed to take any notice. Drunken louts.

Finally, I made it and came face to face with an irate looking Tom.

"I've been informed that you have reported a disturbance, Tom," I yelled, trying to be heard above the racket. "How can I help?"

Tom nodded, relief washing over his face at the thought of a problem being taken off his hands.

"About bloody time," he barked rudely, beckoning his head towards the far end of the pub. "Right this way, Potter."

He marched out from behind the bar, and I followed him back through the crowd as he led me to a quieter part of the pub.

"There," Tom said gruffly, pointing a finger at the table in the far corner. On it, nursing a large bottle of Firewhisky, was the unmistakable figure of Draco Malfoy. "He refuses to leave. He's ruining the festive mood - I want him out!"

"Tom, he's just lost his wife," I said aghast, shaking my head, appalled by Tom's lack of compassion.

"I don't care if he's just lost his entire family in a house fire - I want him out! He's bad for business. Now hop along, I don't pay my taxes for nothing." He shooed me over to the table, before hurrying away back to the bar to serve awaiting customers.

Draco didn't notice me until I sat down at the table in front of him.

He looked up at me bleary eyed, his lip curling into a sneer. "What are you doing here?"

He couldn't have made it any clearer how much my presence displeased him.

"I'm here on Auror duty." I said sharply, refusing to rise to his bait. "Tom sent for me. Apparently, you are not acting Christmassy enough. He wants you out."

"I'll be sure to sing Jingle fucking Bells for my next drink then," he snarled, glaring over towards the bar.

"Might be a bit of a mouthful, that one. Try 'We wish you a shitty Christmas' instead."

"Yeah, and a crappy new year," Draco added, snorting into his glass.

His eyes met mine and I briefly caught that familiar twinkle in them as his lips twitched ever so slightly up at the corners.

"This is not the answer, Draco," I sighed, nodding pointedly towards the almost empty bottle.

"Maybe not, but it helps," he shrugged, pouring himself another. "Want one?"

"Well, if it stops you drinking yourself to death," I said, grabbing the bottle from his hand and, due to the lack of a second glass, I threw my head back and swigged it straight from the bottle.

My whole body contorted as I coughed and spluttered everywhere. I was not expecting it to be that fiery.

"How the fuck can you drink this stuff?" I gasped wheezily through choking gulps as Draco just chuckled softly at me.

"Oh Potter, I forgot what a lightweight you are."

"Well, at least I managed something," I said, my eyes glinting back at his, "I got you smiling again."

His face instantly fell as soon as the words left my lips, as though he had suddenly remembered that he was there to mope.

"Yeah, well - there's not much to fucking smile about these days," he mumbled, staring back down at his drink.

"You miss her?"

Draco just shrugged. "She was a good mother to Scorp. She was a good person. She deserved better than me."

"Yeah, well. I won't argue with that."

He shot me a look but didn't say anything.

"How's Scorpius coping?" I asked, narrowing my eyes in concern.

Again, Draco just shrugged. "I wouldn't know. You probably know more than me."

"Have you not been talking to him about it?" I was stunned. Surely he wasn't relying on Albus to be the only one to offer his son words of comfort?

"I don't know what to say to him - how can I talk to him about the fact that his mother is dead? I mean, what more is there to say?" And to my horror, a large shuddering sob escaped him. "I'm a shit father, Etta, just like my own."

His whole body started racking violently with sobs as he buried his head in his hands. I quickly looked around to see if anyone was noticing this display of drunken misery, but luckily, they were all far too self involved in their own merriment to notice.

"Draco," I hissed, reaching across to awkwardly pat his arm. "Draco, pull yourself together!"

Man, I was so shit at comforting people. This was always Hermione's domain.

Suddenly, his sobbing ceased, and he slowly lowered his hands. I found my heart clenching at the sight of his tear-streaked face.

"Now you listen to me, Draco Malfoy," I said fiercely, roughly grabbing his forearms, pinning them to the table - forcing him to look at me, "You are nothing like your father - believe me!"

His grey eyes flickered but he didn't say anything.

"You are, however," I continued vehemently, my hands still pinning his arms down, "a father who is needed by a grief stricken, lost boy. Don't let him down, Draco. Quit wallowing in self pity and talk to your son."

Draco blinked, a dumbfounded look appearing on his face as he took in my words. Something flashed in his eyes.

And then, without warning, he lunged across the table, roughly grabbing the back of my head as he forced his lips against mine.

I pulled back in an instant, pushing him fiercely away.

"Draco! What the actual fuck?!" I spat, my heart thudding furiously in my chest.

"I- I..." he stammered, looking stunned, blearily shaking his head as though trying to clear it.

"This is always your bloody answer to everything, Draco," I snarled, fury swirling in my stomach. "But I'm not going to be a part of it anymore. Sort your fucking head out."

I started to rise from my chair, ready to get the fuck out of there. I couldn't possibly be around him anymore, Tom would just have to put up with him.

But then a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me mid rise.

"Please," Draco whispered, his sorrowful grey eyes staring desperately into mine, "don't go."

And I knew, as I looked down into the broken face of the man that I'd known since we were kids; the man who shared the same soulful eyes as my son's, that I wasn't going anywhere.

*****