Butterflies- A Harry Potter one-shot

Andrea Mari Mattieus, who only recently found out she was actually Andrea Lily Potter, stood near the grave of her lost love. She wiped a single tear from her bright green eyes and put a bouquet of red roses next to the flawless marble tombstone;

Here lies Fred Weasley
May his smile live on in those left behind.

George put an arm around Andrea, his silent tears glistening in the bright afternoon sun, before he left for his family's home. So many had been lost that fateful night a year ago, when her alleged twin brother, Harry, defeated Voldemort. It was difficult for her to believe so many were gone– Tonks, Lupin... and Fred. She diddled the engagement ring on the chain around her neck. She refused to get rid of it. It was the last thing she had of Fred to remember him by. But she didn't want to wear it. The tears came again. She turned to stalk out of the graveyard.

That's when she saw him. He was bent over a tombstone, but she couldn't see the name. His white-blonde hair fell over his pale blue eyes, his pointed chin giving way to a sullen frown. Draco Malfoy, the boy who plagued her existence all through school.

"What do you want here, Malfoy?" Andrea asked, acid tinging every syllable.

"I'm not allowed to visit my aunt's grave?" Malfoy asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting Fred's grave for the last time," Andrea's eyes filled with fresh tears.

"Last time?" Malfoy asked, genuine sincerity crossing his baby blue eyes.

"I'm..." Andrea began, fresh pain threatening to crush her. "I'm leaving England, possibly never coming back."

A look of anguish crossed Malfoy's face. His hand twitched, almost as if he wanted to reach out and touch her, but he restrained; "I'm sorry for your loss. First Viktor and now Fred. I'm surprised you haven't sworn off men forever."

"I still believe I will find love one day," Andrea said, grasping her arm. "At least Viktor didn't die. He just left me for his... sports."

Malfoy changed his game; "Want to walk with me?"

"Sure..." Andrea was wary, but it was getting dark. Soon, the summer would officially begin for her, and she would leave England forever. Too many painful memories here.

"So," Malfoy began, matching her stride. "I hear your Potter's twin sister."

"I am," Andrea answered in an undertone.

"Care to elaborate?" Malfoy asked.

"I don't care, but Malfoy–,"

"Please," he said as a pretty smile crossed his face, inadvertently scattering Andrea's thoughts. "It's Draco."

"OK, Draco," Andrea returned his smile with equal beauty. "I thought you hated me."

Draco looked at his trainers, partially obscured by baggy jeans; "I'll tell you later. I want to hear how the famous Harry Potter could have a sister and not know it."

"Well," Andrea shrugged. "The night before my mother and father were killed, they had sent me to a distant cousin's house, on Dad's side. They couldn't send the both of us– the Deatheaters had a close eye on us. So Harry stayed with them, and they planned to evacuate Harry the next day, so in case something happened to them, we would grow up together. But there was a glitch in the plan, so to speak. You know the rest.

"Well, Dumbledore told my cousins to raise me like a daughter, never telling of my past, until they thought I was truly ready. I only recently found all this out, and I have no clue with the details. The only one who knew everything was Dumbledore, and he's not around to tell me."

Draco and Andrea walked side by side, talking about their hopes, their dreams, and their ambitions, now that Voldemort was not coming back. Andrea noticed something had changed in Draco. Being at the mercy of a man he agreed to work for, due to his arrogance, watching that same man fall to his own spell... it humbled him. What used to be an arrogant school boy was now a laughing young man, who was not too good to be with Andrea.

They soon found themselves in the city, the sunset casting their shadows out long against the walls of Diagon Alley. They went to a small restaurant, where they sat by the window and talked endlessly. She had seriously misinterpreted him. Every word that came out of his mouth meant she had to completely rework what she thought of him.

When they looked out the window they were sitting near, seeing stars dotting the blue-black sky.

"Night," Andrea sighed.

"Do you want me to take you home?" Draco asked.

"I um..." Andrea bit her lower lip. Since her 'parents' which were actually her cousins were killed by Voldemort, she really didn't have a place to go.

When she told this to Draco, he grinned; "You can stay with me, if you like."

"I wouldn't mind," Andrea said, pulling her lip back with her teeth. "But your parents..."

"My parents haven't really been around much," Draco said bitterly. "They have been sorting things out with the Ministry. I was 16 when I became a Deatheater, so I was underage and I was not held responsible for my actions."

"We all have to pay for our sins, Draco," Andrea said in a soft, gentle voice. Her dark green eyes seemed to sparkle with emotion. His pale skin flushed with the intensity of her stare.

"I did pay," Draco said, playing with a button on his shirt. "Friends and family members have disowned me or died. Nobody trusts me anymore... To me, to be alone, it's a fate worse than death."

Andrea reached across the table and touched his hand gently. When he didn't shy away, she grasped his fingers with a gentleness that choked him up a little. It took him three tries to clear his throat.

"We should go," Draco said, taking Andrea's hand.

Somewhere between the restaurant and the house, the safe no-contact space had dissapeared.

Draco awoke the next morning, Andrea draped across his lap, sound asleep; "Wow. I guess we fell asleep talking."

Draco blushed as he hesitantly rested his hand on the small of Andrea's back. Her skin was soft, incredibly smooth, and pale, and cold. He pulled her hair back from her face and watched her green eyes flutter open.

Draco had never really looked at Andrea until that moment. In their third year, when he first met her, her hair was cropped close with long bangs, her eyes were very round, her lips were a little too full, and her body was the definition of stick figure.

Five years later, her hair had grown in soft waves down her back, framing her now almond-shaped bottle green eyes and heart-shaped face with dark red. Her stick-figure semblance had abandoned her got soft curves, not hidden well by tight jeans a pink 3/4 sleeved shirt.

"How'd ya sleep?" Andrea asked, drawing her knees to her chest and holding on to her feet."Probably better than you did," Draco said in an undertone.

"What was that?" Andrea asked, standing and stretching.

"Nothing," Draco recovered.

"Well, I'm going to fix breakfast. Are you hungry?"

Without an answer, Draco followed her to his kitchen where, with a wave of her wand, the mix of cinnamon bread began to mix itself and eggs cracking themselves onto a skillet. The aroma filled the normally empty kitchen.

"You certainly seem at home in the kitchen," Draco said.

"You should see me in the bedroom," Andrea joked, but her hand flew up to her mouth, her cheeks turning an unhealthy shade of crimson. "I. Can. Not. Believe. I. Just. Said. That."

Draco changed the subject; "So, Andrea, I never knew what House you were in at school. I'm guessing Gryffindor, like your brother, right? I know you weren't in Slytherin."

She shook her head, taking the warm cinnamon bread out of the oven; "This is taking far too long. No, I was in Ravenclaw."

"Oh," Draco said as Andrea prodded the bread with her wand. It baked instantly. "What kind of wand do you have?"

"Beech," Andrea held up her dark-colored wand. "11 ½ inches long, Unicorn hair core. Yourself?"

"Since your brother took my other wand, I had to get a new one," Draco grasped his, which was a shade or so lighter than Andrea's.

"Willow. 11 inches long, dragon heartstring core."

Andrea shrugged and served breakfast. She was silent for most of the time. Draco could almost smell the scent of strawberries and honeysuckle in those red curls.

"You know," Draco broke the silence. "I was going to spend some time in the family cottage for the summer. Would you care to join me?"

Andrea was taken aback, almost to the point of choking on her juice; "You're serious?"

"Of course," Draco said. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Draco," Andrea breathed. "You never explained to me why you are being so kind to me. I assumed you hated me."

Draco sighed and leaned in his chair; "Would you care to join me in the living room?"

Andrea followed him in silence as she folded herself onto the couch with grace that would break any ballerina's heart. Draco felt awkward.

"Andrea," he said, his face flushing. "Note, that this is new to me, and very, very difficult."

"Noted," Andrea said, tracing the fabric on her jeans.

"Ok," Draco sighed. "I didn't know you existed until about my third year, when you joined the Ravenclaw Quidditch team."

"Lovely," Andrea joked, but got a desperate glance. "Ok, ok, I'm listening."

"See," he said, stumbling over his words. "I have always gotten what I want, no matter what. I guess you could call me a spoiled child.

And I already had a girl, and I figured her more attractive than you. But... you kept kind of... popping into my head. Fourth year, for the Yule Ball, it took every ounce of self restraint not to beat that kid you went with."

"You mean Seamus?" Andrea asked.

"Yeah him," Draco continued, an obvious sour look crossing his face. "I didn't know what it was. I assumed that, if I wanted you, you would have just waltzed your way over to me and thrown yourself at my feet like every girl in Slytherin House did. But you didn't. It was so frustrating, the way I seemed to have such an unhealthy infatuation with you. I was more aware of you than any other girl.

"But as the years crept by, I couldn't help but feel like it was all going to start getting rough. I tried to forget about you when I became a... Deatheater. But every time I saw a dead red-head, or even heard a name that sounded remotely like 'Andrea' or 'Mattieus' I would panic or flinch.

"Upon... Voldemort's downfall, my family would be spending a lot of time dealing with the ministry. Yet, no matter what, I couldn't get the memory of you out of my head, and yet, you have grown up to be more beautiful than any girl I have ever known."

"What are you trying to say, Draco?" Andrea asked, pulling slowly away from him.

"I'm saying that I..." he couldn't go further.

Andrea put a comforting hand on his shoulder and smiled; "When are we going to the cottage?"

Draco smiled a wide, toothy, uncharacteristic grin which made Andrea laugh out loud. The laugh touched her green eyes with a shimmer that made Draco blush again. She summoned her bag from where she had been staying, refusing to tell from where, and took Draco's arm.

"Ready?" he asked.

"I guess so," Andrea shrugged and her grip tightened as they spun in place, Apparating to where ever this alleged cottage was. Andrea's eyes were shut tightly as the uncomfortable feeling of being crushed came over her.

"Andrea?" she heard Draco's soft voice and his fingers prying her hand from her death grip on his arm. "You can open your eyes now, we're here."

A picturesque little cottage was perched on a beach with the purest of pure white sand.

"It's beautiful," Andrea breathed.

"It belongs to my parents, but they haven't been out here in years. Come inside with me."

Andrea's dark red hair danced behind her, shimmering in the sunlight. Where he was ice with his chalky pallor, pale blonde hair, and baby blue eyes, she was fire. She made her way to the bathroom the second she walked into the house, changing into her swimsuit.

She poked her head out of the bathroom.

"Get dressed," she commanded. "You are spending the day on the beach with me."

"I am?" Draco asked.

"Yes." Andrea said with a huge smile he couldn't resist.

But ten minutes later, Andrea was lounging on a blanket, the sun making her skin shine. Draco's tongue felt like sawdust when he saw her pale blue tankini with white butterflies. Her dark red hair was pulled into a long ponytail.

"Hey," she said with mock scolding. "No pants and shirts allowed. Bathing suits only."

"I burn easily," Draco said, blushing. "You will have to tear my clothes from my dead, clammy body."

"Won't be necessary," Andrea said with a smirk. "Accio pants."

Draco's pants flew off of him, leaving him flat on his back in black swim trunks. She then summoned his shirt, but it got caught on his head.

"Umm..." Draco said, pulling on it. "Andrea. It's stuck."

After much pulling, the t-shirt finally came free, sending Andrea flying back, landing gracefully on her feet about three or for yards away. She looked back to see the disgruntled Draco in nothing but his trunks, and she felt her knees get shaky. When she finally settled herself on the blanket, Draco caught a trace of a butterfly tattooed on her lower back. He reached out to touch it, and Andrea squealed.

"That tickles kind of," Andrea joked, looking at him over her shoulder. She touched his chest, her hand visibly trembling. She traced the contours of his lean but prominent muscles with a shaking hand.

"Do you have any idea how that feels?" he breathed, his baby blue eyes sparkling like pale blue sapphires.

He reached up and touched her face lightly, pushing a strand of stray hair away from her face. Tingles shot down her spine as he leaned into her.

"Is this really happening?" she whispered.

"If you need more time," Draco said, his pale face flooding with red, and the doleful look in his eyes contradicted his words. "I will give it to you."

Andrea looked at her knees, undecided. Would Fred want her to mourn him for as long as she was already? Or would he want her to move on? Almost as if in answer to her question, she heard a ghost of a laugh and a whisper of a kiss on her cheek. She closed the distance between herself and Draco, their lips meeting.

It was gentle at first, more of the barest touch than a kiss. When Draco's hand went to her face and holding the back of her neck to deepen it, it turned into a real kiss. She slowly pushed him to the blanket, straddling his hips as he pushed the straps of her swim suit down. He touched her bare shoulders with just his fingertips. He let out a shuddering breath as she bent to kiss him again.

He couldn't get over how beautiful she was. He wanted to memorize every feature. He traced her cheekbones with his thumb as he held his hand under her jaw. Her smile made it evident of her feelings. Her bottle green eyes glimmered in the sunlight. He grasped the rubber band holding her silky hair in place and pulled. A curtain of dark red hair fluttered around her, casting shadows across his bare chest. He pulled her in close and kissed her again.

He didn't know what was coming over him. She was Harry Potter's sister Yet, she wasn't arrogant, or heroic. She was modest, and humble, aware of everyone's beauty but her own. She ran her hand down his forearm where it reached his Dark Mark, a permanent sign of his disloyalty to the wizarding world. She touched it lightly. It didn't burn, sting, or move. It was simply an old tattoo now. She brought it to her lips and kissed it lightly.

"Hmm," Draco contently mumbled. He stared at the ominous rain clouds swirling over the water. "Want to bring this inside?"
He indicated the sky and she immediately agreed. The no-contact space had disappeared again as they walked in hand in hand.
Once changed– Draco in a pair of silk black pajama pants and Andrea in one of his rarely-worn muscle shirts– they sat on Draco's bed, mostly talking and gazing at one another. Soft music came from the radio sitting on the night stand. Andrea ran her hands over Draco's chest, her face pondering.

"Drake?" she asked.

"Hmm?" Draco mumbled tiredly.

"Why weren't you ever like this with anyone else?" Andrea asked.

Draco's baby blues fluttered open. He spread his arms, inviting her into a warm embrace; "I put on a lot of facades at school. People expected me to live up to my father, an arrogant little jerk. I pretended a lot, Andie. I was always loving. I just never showed it. My father... wouldn't tolerate it. By the time I got to school, I was cold, and refused to show my love.

"But, I guess half the reason I have never been like this with anyone is because I have never felt like this with anyone, Andie. I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me feel like a... Like I can do anything."

"Butterflies," Andrea said in an undertone. She kissed Draco's chest and watched the blonde hairs on his arm stand on end. Her hands traced his muscles to his belly button and they stopped. His glassy eyes pleaded, and she continued, feeling him through his pants.
His eyes closed tightly as her grip became firmer. He grabbed her by her shoulders and flipped her over gently, laying on top of her, her legs wrapped around his hips. As he kissed her neck lightly, he ran a gentle, trembling hand up her shirt. He whimpered when he found her breast. He had never felt like this with any other girl.

Looking into his warm blue eyes, with no walls, Andrea saw the man only she would ever get to see. He looked at her with 'bedroom eyes', a smile across his perfect lips. She smiled as well.

"You are so special to me, Andie," he said, touching her collar bone with his lips. "I know we only just got to know each other a few days ago, but I feel like I have been in love from the moment we first met."

He rested his head on her chest, which was heaving with the force of her feelings. Tears ran down her face as she grasped his blonde hair in her soft fingers. He was beautiful for a man; slender yet muscular. He raised himself to look into her eyes. She put her mouth at the hollow of his neck and sucked lightly. He moaned when she pulled away, staring at the slight purple mark she had left. An impish grin crossed his face.

"Oh, if we're leaving marks, I'm going to return the favor." He bent down to the base of her neck and bit lightly. A cry escaped her perfect full lips as he continued his kisses, paying extra attention to her collar bone, down her flat belly to her belly button. He rested his ear against her stomach, feeling it rise and fall with her breaths. They spent most of the night in these intimate embraces, finally falling asleep folded in each others arms.

About a month later, Draco was sprawled across the bed on his stomach, naked, a sheet draped over his lower extremities. He peeked out from under his arms and grinned, kissing Andrea's pale cheek, which stirred her to awaken.

"Morning, pretty girl," he said quietly, nuzzling her cheek ever so slightly. He then remembered the date. It meant she would be leaving him today. He wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I'll miss you."

"What?" Andrea brushed his blonde hair back, her look exasperated. "Drake, what are you talking about?"

"You're leaving today," he said, his anguished voice muffled into the sheets on her belly.

"What makes you think that?" Andie laughed.

"But you–" Draco began, cocking his head to the left.

"That was before I had you, sweetness," she touched the side of his face lightly. "You mean the world to me, and I'm not going anywhere without you."

"Really?" Draco's face lit up with a youthful innocence probably unseen to everyone but herself.

"Of course," Andrea pulled on her red hair. "Harry is convinced I'm leaving Europe forever. If he knew I was still here, he would bombard with me questions to which I don't have the answer. I may have to do some modifications."

Andrea took her wand from the night stand and went to the vanity mirror. She pointed her wand at her head and mumbled something. Her hair instantly straitened and darkened. Her eyes turned a deeper green and her cheek bones tightened and her lips thinned. She was still attractive, but Draco liked her old look better. She then mumbled another spell. It instantly turned her back, but her reflection still showed the changes.

"This way," Andrea said, stretching on the bed again. "You, and any future children, will see me as me. But the public will see Lydia Tollins, not Andrea Potter."

Draco pushed her to her back and kissed her again, knowing he had her forever. He sniffed a strand of red hair through his fingers, feeling its silkiness. He kissed her deeply, reveling in the feeling, the butterflies threatening to overtake him.
18 years later, he stood on platform 9 3/4 with Andrea, disguised as Lydia, with their son Scorpius. Draco stooped to straiten his son's jacket mumbling words of encouragement to his first-year son.

"Be kind to others, Scorpius," he said. "I learned the hard way what comes around goes around. Your mother and I will be in touch. Don't be scared to write back."

"And Scorpius," Andrea interjected. The years had been kind to her. Her young face remained, her hair just as long and silky as when she was 18. The only things that had changed were the extra pounds of motherhood, which softened her features. "Don't forget that your father and I love you very much, and your father isn't a Deatheater anymore."

"Ok, Mom," Scorpius said. He was the spitting image of his father, only inheriting Andrea's skin tone. She kissed her son on the cheek when a familiar flash of red caught her eye. She straitened herself as she saw her brother, his wife, and his two friends from school conversing amongst themselves. It hurt a little to see them, but she choked it down.

"Draco look," she said in an undertone. Harry and Draco made eye-contact. Draco nodded curtly and sent their son on his way. Andrea waved to him until the train rounded the corner.

Draco took Andrea to Malfoy Manor, which had been warmed with Andrea's personal touch. Photos of their son cluttered the mantlepieces and the walls. Andrea could also see the hand prints Draco had helped Scorpius make for Mother's Day for her one year, her wedding picture, and the recently updated family portrait. She also hung pictures of hers and Draco's respective families, both of which had passed away.

She and Draco had been married for 17 years. Yet the passion in their marriage had never grown cold. Even though the put pretenses up in public, behind closed doors they were the happiest family on earth. Draco would toss his son around while Andrea and him remained very, very much in love. The silliness they had would probably surprise most who knew Draco in school (i.e. his drunken dance to 'I'm To Sexy for my Shirt' at their wedding reception.') and every time Draco would kiss Andrea, he still felt that strange sensation in the pit of hi stomach... the sensation of butterflies.