The Slytherin Redemption: Now Complete

Thanks to Jilliane for her continued support of this story.

Chapters 26 and 27 were beta'ed by Drusilla of Perfect Imagination.

Salvation

Chapter 26

Lucius sat on the dais in the Great Hall, watching his daughter-in-law fidget through her introduction to the student body by the Headmaster. The elder Malfoy still did not like the idea of exposing a family member’s private life to further public scrutiny, but he did agree with the sentiment in which the endeavour was undertaken.

As she began to speak, he sat up straighter in his chair, his cane between his knees, glaring at any student who so much as looked askance at her story. He was familiar with it. Elspeth’s story had been enacted with almost tedious regularity during the war years. Her face had stood out from the legion because of the extremity of bravery she had shown. Lucius looked out on the student’s faces, wondering how many of the half-bloods and pure-bloods present had been the result of one of Rodolphus’ unsanctioned raids. Pure-blood families were traditionally closed-mouthed about violations of their female family members. When a pure-blood female was raped, unless she was inordinately young, she was married immediately to the most likely candidate. The rapist was dealt with summarily and with no mercy. The Ministry of Magic never became involved. Rodolphus’ acts had skirted the bounds of the Dark Lord’s mandates about Muggle-baiting, and overstepped them completely in the Lovegood girl’s case, as she was a pure-blood. Although most of the young Muggles had ended up dead, Lucius and Severus had ensured there were women left to tell the tales. Rodolphus’ proclivities had disgusted Lucius, especially as the victims became younger and the acts more brutal.

A boy, Gryffindor and from a pure-blood family that had secretly funnelled funds into the Dark Lord’s coffers, sneered at Elspeth as she covered the worst of Rodolphus’ acts against her. Lucius levelled a dark look at him, enjoying the flush on the boy’s pale skin as the miscreant noticed Lucius’ attention. Elspeth paused, overcome by emotion as she spoke. Lucius had had enough. He stood, looming over the girl as he escorted her to a seat. He returned to the podium, letting his cool gaze hush the whispering mass of students. When he had their attention, he began.

“I had not intended to speak today on this matter… b-but as my daughter-in-law has shown such bravery, she puts me, Lucius Malfoy, to shame…”

Lucius catalogued the reason he decided to turn to the light, sparing no detail of the woman raped and ultimately killed by Fenrir Greyback.* He detailed Elspeth’s brief sojourn in the Manor, her bravery and her salvation at his hands and the hands of Severus Snape. He made certain, with carefully veiled threats, that the children who resulted from the rapes were under his protection and anyone found molesting them would most definitely be meeting Lucius Malfoy for a little tete a tete, if those children came to any harm. The room was silent as the fool Lepidus rushed forward to stop Lucius’ speech. Lucius merely smiled as the children filed out of the room. He had no doubt the attitudes would be changing post-haste.

Elspeth remained silent about the matter until they made their way out of the Hogwarts grounds. The little hellcat then proceeded to shred him to pieces for his threats. He was going to enjoy being related to her, regardless of her bloodline. Elspeth would add years of enjoyment to his wasted life, and most definitely would give his son a run for his money.

&*&*&

His mother had been haranguing Draco for the best part of an hour about her concerns for her ex-husband, when the Floo flared to life. The fire deposited a sneezing Liz and a vaguely concerned Lucius. Narcissa turned to the sounds emanating from the front room and let her cool features settle into haughty disdain as Lucius helped Liz to the water cooler in the corner of the room. Draco heard his father murmur, “Please, Elspeth, take the Muggle potions and have a seat. You seem to be quite weakened by the travel.”

“I told you, it’s not a weakness,” Liz replied through gritted teeth. “And don‘t call me Elspeth. M‘name‘s Liz.”

She sneezed once more, then rifled through her purse for the little pink pills that gave her relief from the itchy, watery eyes and sneezing. Draco watched as his father’s raised brow relaxed. It was odd seeing his father care for Liz in more than a vague way. With a bemused half-smile, Draco turned his attention back to his mother. “I suppose I should introduce you.”

“No need, Dragon,” Narcissa drawled. “I know your father, and I am aware of the Muggles you have bedded.”

Draco ground his teeth. “Liz is my wife, mother, and as such, you will treat her with respect.”

“Oh, Dragon!” Narcissa whined in a falsely penitential tone. “I meant nothing by it. As your mother, it is hard for me to see you marry even a girl of the purest bloodlines.”

So far beneath you, Draco finished the rest of the sentence in his mind. He could feel the beginnings of a tension headache at the base of his skull, radiating up from his shoulders and back.

Lucius had finished his ministrations to Liz and turned his attention to Draco’s office. Lucius gave a courtly bow to his ex-wife and a fleeting expression of pain was quickly masked with one of detached disdain. “Narcissa.”

Lucius looked as if he would say more, but settled for assuming the seat behind Liz’s desk, his cane between his legs as he moved the chair back and forth experimentally.

Narcissa stood, a gracefully executed movement that used to awe Draco and draw looks of desire from her husband. She moved to Liz, her hands extended in welcome. “You must be my new daughter-in-law. Liz, isn‘t it?”

Draco’s mother shot him a smug look of triumph as Liz answered, her nose still blocked from the allergies. “Nice to beet you.”

Liz sneezed once more and retreated to Draco’s office as Narcissa turned to Lucius. Draco flicked the door closed after he warned, “Father, Ian Cavanaugh has set your intake appointment for three. Try not to miss it.”

They sat in the office in silence as Draco’s parents raised their voices beyond the closed door. Liz shuffled her feet uncomfortably as Lucius’ shouted ‘Bitch!’ filled the office. Draco merely returned to his paperwork, his façade calm. It was as it had always been.

His mother’s wheedling tone cut like a diamond on glass as she pleaded for forgiveness. Draco rolled his shoulders, attempting to ease the tension that always built when they fought.

There was a slapping sound and then the silence that had always followed it. Liz said, “Drake, maybe we ought to...”

“There’s nothing to do Liz. If I open the door, you’ll see them coming to an agreement.” Draco answered heavily.

Liz clambered to her feet, anxiety in every movement as she reached for the door. “Drake, he hit her.”

“No. He didn’t.” Draco stood, locking the door with a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation. “She, however, did hit him. Father only hit mother once, and that was when she endangered our lives.”

“Then she…?”

“Struck him with great regularity,” Draco intoned. “Now, you know what my family is like.”

Liz sat back down, her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry.”

“They are what they are, Liz.” Draco turned his attention to the documents once more before asking, “Did you talk to Toby?”

“Yes. And I know you don’t approve, but I had him write a confession to Father Cavanaugh.” Liz drew the missive out of her pocket.

Draco scowled. “Liz. He stood up to a bully who was attacking his friend. How is that wrong?”

“He hurt a girl. I don’t want him to...” Liz blinked. “Never mind.”

“No.” Draco shot his chair back, knocking a stack of parchment to the ground in his haste. “You don’t want him to what? Be his father? Be like I was once? Well, if you keep reminding him of how he was conceived, you’re condemning him to be just that. Children live up or down to what you expect, Liz.”

His wife pocketed the letter. “I read it, you know.”

“And?” Draco righted the spilled parchments with a flick of his wand.

Liz looked away from Draco’s cool gaze. “I think you’re right.”

“And you were...?” Draco felt his lips quirk into a tight smile. Liz never liked to admit she was wrong.

“Just shut it, Drake.” She sat down with an unpolished grace that was entirely her own. “I was wrong. I suppose I’ll have to write him an apology.

Draco grunted his assent as the door to the office flew open. A very dishevelled Narcissa stood in the entry. Her neck was marred with a love-bite and her cheeks appeared burnt. “Your father and I have come to an agreement, Dragon.”

Lucius hung back, his hair mussed. Draco remained impassive. “And that would be, mother?”

“We have decided that we are through as a couple.” Narcissa raised her chin defiantly. “I shall cede all my Black holdings to you, including my dowry in return for the penthouse in New York and a generous annual stipend.”

Lucius strode into the room, letting his gaze fall in his ex-wife, an unshuttered expression of longing on his face. Draco lowered his eyes. “I am sorry, but I do understand. Father, it’s almost time for your appointment with Ian. Do you wish me to accompany you there?”

Lucius nodded a sharp gesture that spoke of his pain. Draco finally moved. “Mother, let me see you out. I suppose we’ll be seeing you at our wedding?”

“We’ll see what my schedule is. You know New York can be so entertaining at this time of year,” Narcissa tittered as her son offered his arm. “Perhaps your father will... Well, we shall see, darling.”

&*&*&

Toby was sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast. Professor Lepidus had instituted a new policy and Toby liked it. Instead of sitting with his House for meals, he had to sit with all the other first and second-years. He now got a chance to review with Victoire and speak to Teddy first thing. The other tables were arranged by year also. The older students were the ones grumbling about how it broke with tradition, but the fights had stopped. Toby guessed if a person had to eat with his enemy, he soon learned to tolerate him. He ran his lips over his teeth. If only his mum could see what her talk had done.

The owls swooped down for their morning deliveries. Toby was surprised to see Uncle Drake’s tawny in the flight. It landed beside him and Toby fished an Owl Treat from his pocket as he grabbed the letter from the owl’s leg. “Thanks.”

The owl hooted softly and rubbed its downy head against his hand before it took the Treat. “I s’pose you’re waiting for a reply.”

The owl hooted again. “Well, you can go up to the Owlery. I’ll write later, okay?”

Yellow eyes blinked sleepily and then the owl was off. Rose stared at him from her side of the table. She asked, “What’s up, Tobe?”

“Dunno. I’ll read it later.” Toby got up from the table, leaving his plate mostly full. “I’ve gotta do some research before my first class.”

He told himself that he was not angry with his mum, but that was a lie. She hadn’t even listened to him before she jumped on him like he was Scorpi‘s age or something. He hated that. As he made his way to the library, he opened the letter. It was probably just his penance or something.

It began:

Dear son,

You know I don’t write too well, but what I have to say can’t be put off. I was wrong. I am sorry for not listening to you, and for reminding you about who was your father. He’s dead. I don’t know if I ever told you that before, but he is. I found out a year after you were born. Some of the women that I spent time with during the war let me know.

I just realised recently that I’ve been blaming him for everything that happened to me since you were made. I had a lot to do with it, though. I was the one who decided to quit school. I was the one who let herself go, and I was the one who wore my rape as if it was a badge. I let my bad experiences colour my views of you too. You do look like him, but I was the one who let his looks get in the way of seeing my son. You are a good boy, Toby, and I am sorry that I failed you as a mother in this very important way. All I can ask is that you please forgive me.

Draco told me that things were much worse when he was in school and I shouldn’t be so hard on you. I still say that violence isn’t the answer, but since your friend was being attacked, I suppose you had no choice. Next time could you just think before you use that wand? Maybe if … well, never mind. I suppose I’ll need to trust your judgement.

You are still my little man, and I will always love you.

Mum

P.S.

Drake and I have set the date of our wedding for June 12th. Drake wanted me to ask if you would stand up with him and be his best man. Let us know soon.

Toby penned his response and ran to the Owlery to send it off. He just barely made it to his first class. As he scooted into his seat beside Rose and Victoire, they smiled at him. He beamed back. Things were definitely going to get better now.

&*&*&

* The Greyback incident refers to events detailed in Freedom.


Salvation

Chapter 27

(Otherwise known as the Epilogue)

Draco was very likely drunk. He really couldn't remember how many drinks he had that evening, but it being his bachelor party and all, his own personal rules of conduct had been relaxed somewhat. Potter stood in the corner of the pub on a raised dais, singing into a small microphone that was thankfully not turned on. Karaoke was not Draco's idea of entertainment. If he wanted to hear someone singing badly, he would just listen to his father when he took a shower in the morning. His head spun as Potter executed a daring and somewhat ridiculous dive off the stage. It would have been effective if anyone had paid attention and caught the Auror.

"Fuck." Potter said from the floor in exaggerated consternation.

Longbottom hit Draco's shoulder. Hard. Draco winced as the lout bellowed. "Harry shaid a bad word! Can't believe it. He'sh a Shaint. An angry one, but a shaint."

Longbottom let his face fall to the table as he was overcome by a fit of giggling. Draco merely sneered at the prat. Who was the addicted one here, anyway? Draco opened his eyes a little owlishly to find Blaise in the crowd. He waved the dark wizard over. Zabini, ever debonair and in control, tripped as he came to the table, spilling his drink over Longbottom's neck. Longbottom howled with laughter and said something incomprehensible in what Draco thought might be English. Potter joined the group, his face still red on one side from his impact with the floor.

Before Draco could say what he needed to say, Potter hugged him. "Ferret, you know, you're all right. I never thought I would EVER say that, but you are. Death Eater. Ferret. Slytherin.n Friend."

Zabini cried, “Hear, hear." and downed what was left of his whiskey. No wizarding drinks tonight. The Muggle pub they were in, did not allow outside alcohol. Draco felt his lips pull into the sappy grimace that he always wore when inebriated.

Potter leaned closer to Draco and peered into his eyes. "You're pissed."

"You're king of pissed, Potty." Blaise shouted then immediately straightened his Muggle togs and sat. "Sit down. They're looking. The Muggles."

Potter peered around the room one eye closed. "I'll 'bliviate them all."

Zabini pulled Potter down in the bench next to him. "Please, Saint Potty. You've never done anything even slightly shady."

"Have so. Haven't I Malfoy?" Potter's green eyes met Draco's grey. "In my sixth year, I used Sectumsempra on our groom here, didn't I? Split him wide open."

Longbottom giggled and lifted his head. "No you didn't."

Draco looked away. Trust Potter to bring up the bad old days tonight. "Drop it, Potter."

"No." The Auror hiccoughed. "I never 'pologised for that. I didn't mean to do it, but I hurt you. Felt bad for years about it." Potter's eyes glistened suspiciously, as he added morosely, "Still do."

"If we're going to start apologising for all our youthful transgressions, then I should tell you how much I wanted the Weaslette when I was in school." Blaise interrupted. "She was hot."

Potter choked on his drink, and then retorted, "Pansy got enough wanking action in Gryffindor, right Neville?"

The Herbology Professor snorted. "She surely did. Harry was head wanker of her club."

"That's disgusting." Draco rose.

Blaise began, "Then you should know that Draco was King wanker of the Granger cl..."

Draco shoved a hand over his friend's mouth. "Potter, Zabini, let sleeping dogs lie. Now, I've got to rise early tomorrow. I'm getting married. Can someone help me get home?"

He promptly sank to his knees. “Bloody hell, I hate Muggle grog.”

&*&*&

Liz spent the evening being fitted for her wedding gown for what seemed like the thousandth time. Molly Weasley, Ginny Potter, Hermione Weasley, Andromeda Tonks and Bertie Cowell all looked at her critically as she descended the stairs for hopefully the last time. Ginny had designed the dress and Molly had sewn it. As with the formal dress the two witches had made for her at Yule, the white wedding gown was perfect, except for the little problem that had cropped up around four months ago, after Draco had been released from prison.

Liz let her hand drift to the soft mound under her dress. She had not told Draco she was pregnant and had played off her weight gain as if she were eating more due to wedding jitters. The only person who suspected was her father-in-law who had stared at her midsection the entire afternoon after Mass last Sunday his gaze speculative. Liz gave a small pat to her belly and said, "I suppose I'll have to eat less after the wedding. I don't want to get fat."

The other women exchanged looks. Molly Weasley finally said, "Dear, should you be dieting in your condition?"

"What condition?" Liz countered, innocently.

"Well, you're pregnant, aren't you? Bertie said..." Molly looked around for support.

Liz's answering smile was all the group of women needed to burst into tearful congratulatory hugs. Bertie stood back, beaming with pride at her daughter. Liz drew her mother to the group and Bertie sobbed. "I never could fool you, Mum."

"Oi!" George Weasley yelled from the parlour where the Wizarding Wireless blared a Quidditch match. "There's a match going on in here. People are trying to listen."

Hermione extracted herself from the group and Liz heard a sharp smack and then good-natured whinging from both parties.

&*&*&

Lucius had watched the evening's rehearsal for tomorrow’s wedding with mixed emotions. His only son was getting married and Lucius was gaining a family, a mixed family with its incumbent confusion and problems. He had noted the expectant way Bertie Cowell had looked at him throughout the fiasco that evening. Lucius repressed a shudder. Lucius had never tupped a Muggle and never would as far as he was concerned. He would let that be Draco’s fetish, thank you very much.

He watched the three boys, his two grandsons and Teddy Lupin, playing with the Muggle toy cars that Ian Cavanaugh had found for them from the lost and found box in the church. The older boys seemed to be treating Scorpius well, so Lucius had no reason to worry about childish tears and hurt feelings. He resumed his assigned reading for the day.

Father Cavanaugh would have made a wonderful Death Eater. Instead of administering Cruciatus and Imperius curses, he would have used the collected writings of Marcus Aurelius and St. Augustine to torture unsuspecting souls. Dante’s Inferno would be used as the Catholic equivalent of the Aveda Kedavra.

Lucius turned his eyes to the text, a dry and ponderous volume of the Catholic propaganda The Lives of Saints. He wondered when the two older women would arrive to pick up Lupin and Cowell. He hoped soon, and that it was only the older Cowell woman. He did not relish a repeat of his first meeting with Andromeda Tonks. It had been almost thirty years since he had seen her. When they had met in the rectory before the rehearsal, Lucius knew she ached to curse him. Her hand had held a wand and he could feel the magical energy crackling around her like ozone. The only words she had spoken to him had been warning. “Treat my grandson well Malfoy, or I will know about it.”

Lucius had graced her with a sickly smile in response, but had given a dutiful bow. Ian Cavanaugh had rescued him from further embarrassment by escorting his former sister-in-law into the church proper and showing her the wonders of the Stations of the Cross and the one, tatty relic housed there.

Lucius let his gaze fall once more to the soft waves on his grandson’s head. He was quite a handsome boy, as were all Malfoys, but with an exotic tilt to his eyes and a somewhat broader nose than his purely Patrician father‘s. The boy’s green eyes sought his expectantly as he dropped the car he held and stood. “G-pa. Hold me.”

Lucius set his book aside, splaying it typeface down to hold his place. The boy raised his hands and Lucius scooped him in his arms, making sure to prop him in his good arm. The boy smelled of maple syrup and dirty little-boy. “You will need a bath soon.”

“G-pa, where have you been since I was borned?” Lucius was saved an answer by a knock on the rectory door. He put the boy down with a pat to his chubby bottom and went to the entryway.

Ian poked his head out of his study. “If it’s for me, send them in.”

Lucius resisted the urge to grind his teeth. Who else would be visiting at eight in the evening, but one of the masses of Muggle flesh that inhabited this level of hell? Beside the fact that Lucius was no longer sought out for his expertise, wealth or position, being a former inmate of Azkaban and all. He opened the door and was pleasantly surprised by the sight of Dr. Patil.

“Hallo,” she stated. “I was in the area, and thought I’d check on my star patient.”

Lucius paused, letting his gaze float down her body. She was wearing a soft, worn cotton sari of pale gold. Fascinating hints of flesh flashed at her waist and Lucius’ breath came in short huffs before he cleared his throat and his mind. “Please, do come in.”

&*&*&

The flat was empty and would be for the long lonely night. Draco had come to rely on Liz in ways he had not categorised until she was absent. Zabini, Potter and Longbottom made their drunken apologies at the door after giving the man of the hour a final send off gift of Hangover Cure. Draco palmed the bottle and went to his empty bed in his empty flat. Tomorrow, he would never be alone again. He would be married in the eyes of the Church and God. He chuckled. It would be just in time, if he could judge by Liz’s recently increasing waistline. Draco decided he wanted a girl this time. It would be fun to spoil her to a properly rotten state.

&*&*&

Narcissa slept fitfully at her latest lover’s side. She had paid well for him so he had no complaints whether he got a full night’s sleep or not. She woke, thinking of her only child and his impending nuptials. She wished him well from New York and then roused the boy in her bed for some much needed recreation. As long as he did not speak, she could pretend he was someone more refined, handsome and fairer.

&*&*&

“You were in the area?” Lucius asked doubtfully. “I was under the impression you lived in S-surrey.”

Mona Lisa blushed. “I do some charity work in London. Three nights a week. I see patients who don’t qualify for National Healthcare. Mostly new immigrants and illegals.”

Lucius took Mona Lisa’s elbow and escorted her to the drawing room. The boys looked up from their play but turned away in disinterest. “I d-do believe this is the first time I’ve seen you out of your lab coat and scrubs. You look... lovely.”

The doctor blushed. “You seem to have settled into your new life well.”

“Yes.” Lucius grimaced. “Living as a native is... different. More complex than I‘d ever imagine. Making tea is...”

The doctor had moved closer and before Lucius knew it, she was kissing him. Her lips were soft against his unformed lips. Lucius stayed his movements in shock until her tongue slipped lightly over his teeth and into his mouth. He suppressed a growl as he took her by the shoulders and deepened the contact. Before he could grind against her, she moved back. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your release. I’ll be going now.”

He did not dare stop her as she strode to the door and out of his life. He was tied to this hell dimension for another two months. She would find someone more suitable in that time to affix her considerable beauty and intelligence and Lucius would be just an older fool that she remembered fondly and hopefully with no regrets. He turned his attentions to the boys. “I believe it is time for young Master Scorpius to prepare for bed. You two behave.”

&*&*&

The wedding Mass was over and Draco was waltzing with his blushing and pregnant bride at the reception in the soup kitchen. She pouted prettily, “How long have you known, Drake?”

“Kid, we live together, did you honestly expect me to overlook your lack of certain... functions?” Draco held his wife closer. “I love you, but if we don’t have a girl this time, will you be up for another?”

“Drake, let’s get through this pregnancy first.” Liz laughed. “I love you too.”

The song ended and Liz blew her perfectly arranged fringe off her forehead, rustling the pink tea roses in the process. “I’m going to be so hot by the end of summer. Be a darling and fetch me a cold drink, would you?”

Draco made his way to the kitchen area, only feeling a hint of nostalgia at the sight of the polished stainless steel and pitted porcelain of the appliances. Since they had been given his mother’s holdings, Draco knew he need not ever return to the beginning of his odyssey, homeless, addicted and alone. He ran his hand over the railing of the serving line, a small smile playing about his lips.

Ian joined him. “You’ve come along nicely, Draco. I am proud of you.”

“That’s good. I’m proud of me too.” Draco answered with a hint of laughter in his tone. “How is father getting on?”

Ian chuckled darkly. “I think your wife is waiting for her refreshment.”

“That bad, huh?” Draco gave his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. “Thank you for taking him.”

“Go.” The priest patted Draco’s hand. “She looks as if she’s going to expire on the spot.”

He was stopped next by a vaguely familiar face. A clean-cut young man in silver-rimmed spectacles approached him. He extended his hand and Draco took it. “Do I know you?”

“I’d say you do, mate.” The young man’s voice was soft, raspy. “I’m the one that got you hooked on the stuff.”

“Cred?” Draco felt a familiar hunger in his veins, faint but gnawing. “What happened?”

“I go by my real name now. I’m Collin. Collin Paisley.” The man was blushing profusely. “As for what happened to me... It was you, man. I saw how you were cleaned up and it gave me some hope. I’m now a drug-counsellor at an NHS funded rehab. Ian told me you were getting married and I decided to crash the wedding. I‘ve got a little girl now and my wife is over there with that tall blonde man. I think that‘s your father?”

Draco drew the man to him, and he croaked out. “Congratulations.”

“Let me go, man... I think your dad’s making a move on my girl.” Collin, formerly Cred, gave Draco a final thump on the back. “You did good, kid.”

&*&*&

Things had gone full circle for Liz and for Drake. She was donning her final outfit for the day, a light dress, full at the waist. They were going off for a month to see the rest of Italy and take care of the now restored property at the Piazza San Marco. Liz was looking forward to it. This would be her first real holiday in her life. Her mum was going to stay with Andromeda while Drake’s architect finished her cottage. Liz loved being rich. She really loved it.

Drake kissed her neck. “It’s time for us to to go.”

“Not if you keep doing that.” Liz huffed. “And in church, no less.”

“We’re married.” Draco continued his exploration of her skin. “Mmm... you taste good. Uh, Liz?”

“Yeah?” Liz could feel the whisper of his breath on her neck hairs. The sensation sent dreamy swirls of gooseflesh down her back and shoulders.

“Potter found out something else about Snape.” Drake said. “He thinks he’s in the States, in the Middle West.”

The Dark Man, one of her saviours and her husband’s newest project. “What will you do when you find him?”

“I don’t know. Potter wants to talk to him.” Drake ran his hand up his wife’s dress, fondling her belly. “I just want to make sure he’s happy.”

“You both need to do that then.” Liz turned and drew her husband’s face to hers. “I never thought I’d marry one of you... after... but I’m glad it all happened. If it hadn’t been for that week, we never would have met and I never would have found the other piece of my soul.”

Drake kissed her. They were late leaving the dressing room, but they had all the time in the world.

FIN


Now that the story is complete, let me know what you think.