For your lovely review of Chapter 25 and your review also of The Perfume of the Roses, the first story in this trilogy, and for adding me to Author Alert, many thanks to:-

Carlaeme26

For your very much appreciated reviews of Chapter 25, many thanks to:-

JeanandBilius

Guest

For adding this fic to Favourites and Alerts and adding me to Favourite Author and Author Alert, thanks to:-

CZRG

A/N:J K Rowling created (most of) the characters in this fic.The story is AU.

***chapter 26***

***Final Chapter***

***The Wandering and Wondering Wonders***

The Malfoys had never before been considered trendsetters but let it be noted in the chronicles of magical fashion history that Draco Malfoy started an exciting new movement. Dancing dynamos, would-be wordsmiths, ice-skating wannabes, cats and owls, wonderful witchling reflective shooting stars, anybody who was anybody, followed his lead and waltzed backwards into the garden. But some – perhaps those who just didn't have that elusive X factor and never would make it to the top - stalled.

"We can't go any farther," Hermione cautioned, as The Chosen One chose to take one step forward only to remain in exactly the same spot. Harry scratched the lightning scar on his forehead in bafflement. "What's going on, 'Mione?"

The wisest witch of the age had already chewed her lip over this conundrum and reached her wise conclusion. "It's the evil force pulling everyone. I believe The Ancient Wand's making a last-ditch attempt to convert Draco to Darkness, which is why it's pushed us several seconds behind and taken Draco to the exact place where they met. It's good that it hasn't been able to stop Astoria getting past its barrier though. Those protective circles etched in it make it powerless to act against anyone he loves."

"Astoria and Scorpius, I can understand, but all the kids and Trimblefeathers and Boots?" Ginny queried dubiously.

Hermione shrugged. "I know it's odd, Gin, but they did all go time travelling together. It's possible they've developed a bond."

"Yeh, well, I went time travelling with Malfoy for a while too," Ron pointed out. "How come he didn't bond with me? Ah, wait, no, I didn't mean..." He spluttered, red-faced.

"So what happens now?" Harry asked. "They don't seem to be taking any notice of us."

"They're a bit too far into the future to see us or hear us and we're near enough to see them but too far away to hear them" Hermione replied. "I'm afraid everything rests on Draco's shoulders now, Harry. All we can do is wait. And watch."

And all four Gryffindors looked towards where our time travellers extraordinaire were gathered around the large old tree, where they had set off on their epic journey. No doubt, given the seriousness of the situation, they were discussing weighty matters.

"What are you looking at, Scorpius?" Rose wanted to know, for the youngest Malfoy craned his neck, staring intently at something above, where dwelt his lanky pater, and, even higher than he, the cat and the owl, who were atop the gnarled old tree, Trimblefeathers circling and hooting furiously, Boots clawing at something from her perch upon the topmost branch. Perhaps Scorpius contemplated the distant universe and the mystery of how humankind came to be.

"Oh, I was just wondering why my Dad's so tall."

"Yeh. He is, isn't he?" Rose checked for herself and nodded agreement. "My Dad is too. I wonder who's the tallest? What do you think, James?" For his gaze, too, was firmly fixed on the skyline.

Her cousin snorted. "I wasn't wondering that. I was wondering why the Ancient Wand keeps following Scorpius's Dad head wherever he goes." James couldn't help feeling jealous. They were best friends now, the walkabout wizard and the wandering wand, and it wasn't fair when he made its acquaintance first.

"I wonder if it's looking for brains?" Albus mused, oblivious to the wandering wand's best friend's glare.

"I wonder if Mr Mallyfly's robe is going to come all the way off?" Lily pondered.

"I was wondering what that tug was." Draco told Astoria nervously, not daring look.

"Oh, God, no! I wondered what Boots was...Draco, I'm afraid she's somehow wrapped the robe's loose thread around her paw!" His wife squeezed his hand. "Don't worry, though. It's not as if you're not wearing anything else."

Don't worry? It was all very well for Astoria but he had the Malfoy reputation to uphold. And, cash being in very short supply in the Malfoys' limited budget household, and consequently clothing being in very short supply in the head of the Malfoy household's limited budget wardrobe, underneath his Slytherin robes he wore baggy second-hand, much-scourgified denim jeans, a charity-shop T-shirt that bore a large picture of four muggles who were all bizarrely called ABBA and, to top off his outfit, fake leather shoes. Fake leather, for Merlin's sake, not even the dignity of dragon hide! The length of the robe and careful shuffle-walking had hitherto hidden the embarrassing attire from general view, but now the ruse was about to become undone. Literally. He could do nothing to stop it. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched Astoria's hand.

"I wonder what Boots is knitting, though?" Lily continued.

"I wonder why My Friend's Dad has a flower growing out of his head?" Hugo chipped in.

"What?!" Draco's eyes flew open in alarm.

"Calm down. You don't. Look!" Astoria indicated the wonderful witchling reflective shooting star attached to the tree and sure enough his image showed nothing unusual. Unless of course you counted an Ancient Wand hovering above perfectly gelled white-blond locks.

"Then why did he…?"

"I had nothing to wonder about." Hugo said proudly, and waited to be praised for his ingenuity.

"Sweet, sweet Merlin!" Draco re-shuttered his eyes to the madness and held Astoria's hand tighter than ever, trying to console himself with the thought the moment would come and the moment would pass, and eventually become a distant memory. Well, provided they didn't all go time travelling again, that was. Voices floated up from below. He'd spent so damn long in their crazy company he could identify each with ease.

"Who's Sweet, Sweet Merlin?" Potty Head Two always operated on a need-to-know basis.

"Me." Mad Professor. Assumed everything as his birthright.

"Don't be greedy, Hugo. How many nicknames do you need?" Eldest Granger could be relied upon to inject a pinch of much-needed logic into their peculiar proceedings.

"Oh, prob'ly about a hundred."

"You needed another nickname. You could have it." That was Scorpius wheeling and dealing.

"Nah. Too girly. Though Merlin was a brilliant wizard..." In the style of Potty Head Senior, Potty Head One would be scratching the lightning scar on his forehead as he mulled it over. Except in his case the scar was invisible and, being given to artistic flourishes, he would also be taking up a dramatic stance as though delivering a stage soliloquy to the packed and enthusiastic audience that existed inside his head.

"Girls are better." To judge by the slight breathlessness and stomping Dance-Youself-Dizzy was, for reasons known only to Dance-Yourself-Dizzy herself, dancing again.

"Oh, shut up, Lily! You should..."

But their voices were fading now. The Ancient Wand had one last dice to throw in pursuit of Darkness. And it fought. How it fought. Time tumbled backwards and took him...

Each step more reluctant than the last. Each sob-shrouded breath louder. Time ticking away faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster. Murderer! The word seems to echo mockingly around Hogwarts' ancient castle walls. But, oh, the power! The power of holding another's life in his hands! Of seeing the fear in another's eyes! Of what greatness he might achieve with this chance to change Time! And far away the shouts and screams of war being fought and here the lonely whisper of silence. And far away dozens of lives being lost and here solitary watcher of his shadow flickering in the torches' firelight. Light. Then Dark. Light. Then Dark. Light. Then Dark once more. Fire burning all along the myriad of corridors and fire of the Dark Mark burning into his skin. Every step, every breath, every heartbeat leading to this moment. Kill. Or be killed. Kill. Or have those you love killed. It must be. Blood on his hands, blood on his soul.

But Time hurries on now. In the midst of the Dark someone holding him tight, rocking him, whispering and hushing and stroking. "Ssshh, ssshhh, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay. Draco, you're here, you're safe, you're with me..."

Eyes fluttering open, the black of night, the white of the moon. Two wavering shadows cast in moonlight dancing on the bedroom walls. Dark. Then Light. Dark. Then Light. Dark. Then Light once more. Light that grows ever brighter, chasing away the nightmares faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster, two heartbeats ticking away time. Every step, every breath, leading to this moment. Two heartbeats. Then three.

"I'm terrified of being a parent," he tells her one day, seeking reassurance.

But Astoria only smiles a small smile, twirling a strand of hair round and round her finger as she always does when nervous, her belly so far swollen now that muggles notice and often stop to offer their congratulations. "So am I."

As it turned out, Astoria had nothing to fear and Draco...well, Draco, much as he adored his son, was still trying to figure out what went on inside Scorpius's head. But this time Astoria had the answer. "All kids are like that, Draco."

Ah. That explained everything. So all kids were at all different times scary and fun and kind and mean and sassy and naive and (occasionally) quiet and thoughtful and (frequently) loud and tireless and (sometimes) bolshy and placid and obnoxious and loveable and happy and sad and patient and impatient and a great deal more. Nobody knows why they are so many things; they just are, Draco declares knowledgeably, having been a father now over for two years. But Astoria thought his expert opinion on children extremely funny, as she has done ever since Scorpius's birth. Maybe, he decided, you just had to wait for them to grow up and hope you got through it. He was still getting through it but nowadays he had to figure out Scorpius's friends too. Or then again maybe he could just let it happen. Because there was no way out. Kids always won.

Like at this very moment. How he got there, he never knew. But here he suddenly was, with six kids, his wife, a cat, an owl, and four Gryffindors, his Slytherin robes shredded, dressed in baggy second-hand, much-scourgified denim jeans, a charity shop t-shirt that bore a large picture of four muggles who were all bizarrely called ABBA, and fake leather shoes. Not even the dignity of dragon hide! But getting there...with Astoria and Scorpius...was actually a nice place to be.

The Ancient Wand has lost the battle. It crumbles miserably in sad and sorry defeat. Wood shavings so tiny they are little more than powder rain down to scatter and die unmourned.

"Oh, Draco, thank God you're back!" Astoria's voice cracked with emotion as she wrapped her arms around him in relief. "Don't ever scare me like that again! For a little while it was like...like you were somebody else."

He blinked, his limbs heavy, his mind drowsy, feeling as though lately woken from a long and lonely dream. "I was. A long time ago." He whispered the sentiment, meant for Astoria's ears only. "Are the kids okay?" He whispered that too, not sure why, apart from his son, those mysterious beings should be a cause for his concern.

"They're fine, they're fine, we all are." Tori was laughing and brushing happy tears from her eyes.

"I wonder why Mr Mallyfly has brown dandruff?" Lily asked no-one in particular.

"I wonder if it's because his brain's made of wood and that's why the Wand was looking for it?" Albus's question had an aha running all the way through it.

"Merlin's Beard, Tori, they're off again!" But his wife's laughter and tears tickled his neck, and his remark lacked its usual irritation and sounded amused. For the air was lighter now, no longer oppressed by Darkness, but fresh and bright and new.

"You've done it, Draco!" Hermione announced, with rare admiration for her childhood nemesis. "You've destroyed The Ancient Wand forever!"

"I have," he said loftily, as if it were a trifling matter he could achieve standing on his head. He had? How, when, where? But he had. The Ancient Wand's hold was broken. The Gryffindors were free to roam once more. And did.

Ron stretched and yawned loudly, and with remarkable willpower passed no comment about his ex-enemy's fashion statement although he quirked an eyebrow Malfoy style at the new Malfoy style.

"Oh...er...hello," he stammered in the uncertain silence that had descended upon the adults, suddenly aware of everybody's eyes being on him. "Um...Good playdate, you think?"

Draco quirked a wary eyebrow in return as though regarding a dangerous and unpredictable species.

"We hope there'll be many more." Harry backed up his friend.

The Slytherin's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. As did Ron's. "Really?" The red-headed wizard murmured, earning a mild slap on the arm from his wife.

"Well, now The Ancient Wand's gone, we can start over again. Welcome to the playdate, Astoria, Draco and Scorpius." Hermione proffered her hand, which Astoria made to shake, then abruptly changed her mind and impulsively hugged their hostess and then Ginny.

The three witches, Ron and Harry turned as one to Draco, curious to know how he would react to this startling turn of events.

"That would be going too far," he commented on the hug. He was most certainly not going to turn Hufflepuff for anyone.

"How far are we going then, Mr Malfoy? Time travelling?" James added helpfully in answer to his time-travelling mentor's baffled stare.

"I wonder if we can go as far as the bottom of the garden?" Scorpius conferred with best friend Rose.

"I wonder if there'll be a fairy at the bottom of the garden like the muggles say, Scorp?" she joked in return.

"Oh, there will be when my Dad gets there, Rose," he predicted innocently.

"We are NOT time travelling..." Draco began.

"We're apple hating!" Hugo yelled triumphantly.

"We are not apple..." but Draco decided he might as well give up. Kids always won.

"Any chance we could get some food, guys?" Ron sighed. "My stomach's rumbling."

"Might be an idea," Hermione agreed. She chewed her bottom lip in thought. They would have to find a way of helping Draco Malfoy out of his obvious penury without making him feel inadequate or angry. His wife and son were the answer. The easy friendship with which Astoria linked arms with she and Ginny, the easy friendship Scorpius had cultivated with Hugo, James, Albus, Lily and especially Rose, gave cause for hope. Even Boots and Trimblefeathers had settled their differences.

And so six adults, six children, a cat, an owl, a wonderful witchling star that had miniaturised and returned to its home in the pocket of its small owner, one Lily Potter, trooped back inside for the much-anticipated playdate party to begin in earnest at last.

A certain lanky wizard, who had earlier shuffle-walked, strolled a little behind the group, hands clasped behind his back, head held high. With the gifts of time and friendship, soon they, too, would walk in harmony.

END

Through the corridors of sleep
Past the shadows dark and deep
My mind dances and leaps in confusion.
I don't know what is real,
I can't touch what I feel
And I hide behind the shield of my illusion.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And flowers never bend with the rainfall.
The mirror on my wall
Casts an image *dark and small

But I'm not sure at all it's my reflection.

I am blinded by the light
Of God and truth and right

And I wander in the night without direction.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And flowers never bend with the rainfall.
It's no matter if you're born
To play the King or pawn
For the line is thinly drawn 'tween joy and sorrow,
So my fantasy
Becomes reality,
And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow.
So I'll continue to continue to pretend
My life will never end,
And flowers never bend with the rainfall

Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall (Paul Simon)

A/N: The lyrics to the above song reminds me of Draco being tasked with killing Dumbledore. Just change three words *dark and small to pale and tall and...

Sorry the update was a bit late. In addition to having to borrow a laptop because my own died, I am in the middle of moving to another flat. Not as nice as where I live now, but the rent is much cheaper, it's a more permanent tenancy and it's in the same area. So no writing for a while and, when and if I do get back to it, I'll stick to one-shots – constantly writing stories without bothering to work out a plot first is not recommended! Most of all, hope to catch up with reading and reviewing others' fics very soon. :)