A/N: I can't believe this is the end of the story! You guys have been amazing throughout - I love reading your thoughts and opinions on each chapter. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed. I hope you've really enjoyed the story.

I'm definitely planning to write a prequel about Lucius and Narcissa's relationship, so look out for that. It'll probably be quite different. I'm not sure when I'll start uploading it - it might be a little while - but keep an eye out.

I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

Z … Because It's The End

"And then James set off a bunch of fireworks inside the house and Grandma Weasley just about exploded. She was already pretty stressed, what with having the entire extended family staying in the Burrow – or in tents outside – all at the same time, and the fireworks didn't help. But when she tried to yell at him he just gave her this cheeky little smile and waved his wand so that the fireworks spelled out "We love Grandma Weasley" and she just couldn't bring herself to shout at him after that. She just walked off muttering about how he was worse than Fred and George put together."

Draco listened with amusement to Rose's story, wondering how it was that he had come to be talking to Ron Weasley's daughter about family holidays at the Burrow. She really did like to talk a lot, but he had to admit she was a lovely young woman.

He'd been in denial for a while about Scorpius and Rose's relationship, refusing to admit that it was really happening until several months after Scorpius had announced they were dating. It had been bad enough to have her be one of Scorpius' best friends, but his girlfriend? That was too much.

Eventually, however, Scorpius' obvious affection for the girl, as well as Astoria's gentle persuasion, had convinced him at least to give her a chance. Which was why she was sitting in his kitchen during the summer holidays, chattering happily about anything that came into her head.

She was very sweet, and Scorpius clearly adored her. She was good for him, too. She brought him out of his shell a little, got rid of his shyness.

The looks he caught them exchanging every so often alarmed him a little. Sometimes they would seem to communicate with merely a glance, seeming to carry on an entire conversation that nobody else could understand. And sometimes they would simply look at each other, as if they were both more comfortable when assured of one another's presence.

It was exactly how he and Astoria sometimes looked at each other. Which meant this couldn't be written off as merely a teenage infatuation. He didn't want to attribute such significant feelings to seventeen-year-olds, but Draco knew his son too well not to realise they were in love. He sighed. It looked as though he might have to resign himself to red-headed grandchildren.

"Would it be awful of me to say I told you so?" Astoria asked, grinning at Draco. He looked confused for a moment, then his expression cleared.

"Oh," he said slowly, "You mean that day in the hospital, when you and Hermione were going on about fate and giggling a lot? That was just stupid."

"But we were right," Astoria said smugly, gesturing to the door, through which Scorpius and Rose had just left. They'd come round for dinner, saying they had some very important news to share, and then Rose had showed them the ring on her finger and gushed about Scorpius' wonderfully romantic proposal. Scorpius had flushed a little, but he'd looked very happy.

Draco sighed. He seemed to be swallowing back his pride.

"You were right," he said eventually, "And I couldn't be happier that you were. But I still don't believe in all that fate crap."

Astoria pretended to look offended.

"You mean you don't believe that we were destined to be together?" she asked, trying to sound hurt. Draco laughed, putting his arms around her and leaning down to kiss her gently.

"No," he said, "I don't. Fate doesn't deserve any of the credit for us ending up together. We did it all ourselves."

Astoria smiled. She tipped her head upwards to kiss him again, and this time the kiss deepened.

"I love you, Draco," she murmured against his lips.

"I love you too, Tori."

"No," Draco said firmly, "Absolutely not. You are not dating him." Lyra pouted.

"Is it just because he's a muggle?" she asked. Draco snorted in disbelief.

"No it isn't," he said, "He could be a pureblood for all I care; you're not dating him."

"Is it because he's black then?"

"Don't be stupid, Lyra. What difference would the colour of his skin make?"

"Then why can't I date him?" she whined.

"Lyra, he's in a gang! You said yourself that he just got out of prison for trying to stab someone. How did you even meet someone like that?"

"He's just misunderstood, Dad," Lyra said patiently, "Give him a chance. He's a really nice guy."

"A really nice guy?" Draco repeated in disbelief, "A really nice guy?" He looked at Astoria for support, but she merely shrugged.

"I dated you when everyone said I shouldn't," she said, "Maybe this guy really is trying to turn his life around." That put a smug smile on Lyra's face, and stopped Draco in his tracks. How could he argue with something like that? How would he have felt if Astoria's parents had forbidden her from seeing him?

He sighed resignedly, which Lyra seemed to take as permission. He watched her go. This still didn't feel like a good idea, but what could he do? And the boy was only a muggle; Lyra would have her wand. He wouldn't be able to hurt her seriously.

That didn't mean he liked it, however. Why did daughters have to be so difficult?

"No," Astoria said firmly, "You are not dating him. Absolutely not." Faye huffed.

"Is it just because his dad was a Death Eater?" she asked. Astoria folded her arms.

"Don't even try and start that with me. You know that's not the reason. It's because he's seven years older than you, and he's your teacher. That's why you can't date him."

"He's not really my teacher," Faye said, "He's just an assistant teacher. And I'm in seventh year. I'm practically an adult."

"And when you've left school you can date whoever you like," Astoria said firmly, "But you're not dating him now, and that's final. And don't even think about arguing with me, or I'll owl the school and have him fired immediately."

Faye scowled, but she didn't disagree. She simply stormed out of the room, and Astoria knew she'd won this particular argument.

She sighed. Why were daughters so much harder than sons?

Draco sat up until three in the morning holding his crying daughter one night. She'd come home in floods of tears, having discovered that her ex-prisoner boyfriend had been cheating on her, as well as dealing drugs for the last three months, and had been sent back to prison.

He had to admit he was relieved the relationship had ended when it had. Maybe now Lyra would find a nice boy from school – or even a nice muggle boy; he wasn't too fussed, as long as the boy didn't enjoy knifing people in his spare time – and start a nice, safe relationship.

It was probably a futile hope, but he could always dream.

He hadn't ever expected to think of a Weasley as the ideal partner for one of his children, but as the preparations for Rose and Scorpius' wedding continued, he had to admit that Scorpius made the best decision by far about relationships.

It was funny how things turned out sometimes.

Astoria was very relieved when Faye's letters began to gush about some Ravenclaw boy in her year. She'd been worried her daughter might wait and start dating the teacher as soon as she finished school, just to spite her.

A few months later, the teacher was transferred to Beauxbatons, and Astoria was even more relieved. From her experience of the Beauxbatons girls, she was sure one of them would be willing to engage in some illicit affair with him, but as long as it wasn't her daughter she didn't really care.

Now if only Faye would stay with the Ravenclaw boy, that would be wonderful. But that was probably too much to hope for.

After all, there was a thin line between being optimistic and simply being ridiculous.

It was a gloriously sunny day. The kind of day when nothing could possibly go wrong, and even the awkward intermingling of Weasleys and Malfoys didn't seem completely wrong and unnatural, just a little strange.

Scorpius looked very nervous, standing at the top of the aisle with his best man, Albus Potter. Draco wasn't worried about him. He'd been just as nervous on his own wedding day. It was natural.

He couldn't help but feel a little nervous himself, however. Was it really possible that his little Scorpius could be this grown man, about to embark on the greatest adventure of his life? Could it really have been so long since he'd held his son in his arms for the very first time, and scoffed at Astoria and Hermione's ridiculous theories about fate?

There was a collective gasp and Draco turned to see the bride walk down the aisle, her arm resting lightly on her father's. She was truly beautiful, but Draco found his eyes drawn elsewhere. He alone, out of everyone at the wedding, was watching Scorpius. And Scorpius' face as he saw Rose said more than looking at the woman herself ever could. Draco saw reflected in Scorpius' face the very feelings he'd experienced on his own wedding.

Seeing the two of them standing next to one another, it was like a picture had been completed. The fact that they were a Malfoy and a Weasley, a pureblood and the daughter of a muggleborn, no longer mattered. The two of them had achieved something Draco would never have dreamed was possible, bringing the two families together to do something other than try to murder one another.

As he caught Ron Weasley's eye, the two of them were united in a moment of collective pride for their children. It was probably the only time he and Ron Weasley would ever be in perfect agreement about something, and that alone was something Draco would once have deemed impossible.

But even in his pride, Draco couldn't help but feel a pang of loss as he listened to his son promise to spend his life with Rose Weasley. She would come first for Scorpius now. He would no longer be Draco's little boy, absolutely devoted to his father.

Seeming to sense his feelings, Astoria slipped her hand into his.

"He'll never stop being our little baby," she whispered, "Not really."

Draco smiled gratefully at her. Astoria was his only constant. Everyone else in his life had left him or let him down at some point. His parents had mistreated and betrayed him; his friends had abandoned him; his children would grow up and leave him. But Astoria would never leave him. She'd be by his side forever, and him by hers.

They'd come a long way since a lonely, broken young man had reached out a hand to help a drunk, vulnerable young woman. Perhaps fate had played a hand in it after all, to bring two such different people together in such a perfect match. Or perhaps Draco was right, and they had done it all by themselves.

It didn't matter, really.