Draco needed time alone to clear his head so he decided to take a walk. He saw that several of the villagers were switching ages again so he wondered if he would too. He worried about leaving his children even though he missed his wife and the children he knew from home too. From his conversation with Cressida, he could tell there were just some things his current incarnation could do better simply because he shared at least some of the memories of raising his son and daughter. He also worried about his younger self, who he long ago put away. Oh, he never forgot that boy, but he was so far removed from him at his present age that his heart broke a little when he thought of going through all that pain and uncertainty again, especially in a village where it was so difficult to keep up relationships for a person like him.
He was lost in thought when he heard footsteps. He instinctively gripped his wand, but didn't draw. When he realized the blur was a child, he changed directions. "Harry?" He called when he was close enough to make out the boy. It was strange. Seeing Harry like that again gave Draco new feelings. From his previous distant observation from seeing Harry around the village, he noted how thin he was and how little things made him happy. Funny how age changed perspective. Draco could clearly see Harry was just a little boy dealt a pretty rotten deck. But why was he running like he saw a ghost for the first time (which, Draco had to admit, could be scary)? "Harry!" He called again. "Har---oomph!" Draco rubbed his stomach. Blimey, the kid had been in a rush. "Are you alright?" He asked gently. He ignored how odd it was to be talking to his former classmate like the now forty-two year old dad he was. He held a hand out. "I'm Draco," he continued. "I think we talked a bit over the journals."