The night was quiet at Malfoy Manor—peaceful, wrapped in the velvet hush of bedtime. A small girl, mischief in her eyes, pulled her green duvet up to her chin and looked up at Draco, who was perched on the edge of her bed.

Jenny: "Daddy can you tell me a bed time story?"

Draco: "Sure love how about I tell you a story about how I met your mother"

Jenny: “You mean the one with the big magical ball, the snow, and the girl who made Daddy fall on his face?”

He sighed, dramatically, like this was the tenth time this week—which it was—but he secretly adored every second.

Draco: Well i met her at the yuleball and she was dancing with her friends

Jenny: did you say hi?

Draco: “Oh no. I stared. Like a complete idiot,” Draco said with a dramatic groan. But then she turned, smiled, and said "'Are you going to ask me to dance or are you just planning to creep in the corner all night?’”

Jenny: “Did you dance?”

Draco: “Of course I did. Worst waltz of my life. I stepped on her feet. Twice.”

Jenny gasped, horrified.

Draco: “She laughed. I’d never heard anyone laugh at me like that and still look at me like I mattered.”

He brushed her hair back gently. “And right then, I knew I didn’t care if she was a Muggleborn. I didn’t care what anyone said. I just knew I wanted her forever.”

Jenny, suddenly wide-eyed, let out a shriek *you walked in the room

“MOMMAAAA!! DADDY’S TALKIN’ ‘BOUT THE SQUISHY LOVE STORY!!”