THE SUNLIGHT HAS LONG SINCE DISAPPEARED BEYOND THE HORIZON, CANDLELIGHT REPLACING THE WARM AFTERNOON RAYS. Peter Rabbit lays on the side table, open to the page she'd been reading when she'd noticed his slow and even breath. It'd been on the fourth read through that he'd fallen asleep, though she'd noticed sometime towards the end of the third that he'd been fighting it. His eyelids would droop and close for a second longer than a blink, only for them to be forced back open, looking up at her as if afraid she'd disappear if he allowed them to close for too long. It'd only made her hold him tighter. What little strength she has going to snugly tucking him against her breast. To making him feel safe and secure.
Sleep won out in the end and he dozes soundly, his angelic cherub face peaceful with dreams of cheeky little rabbits and vegetable gardens.
Astoria raises her hand, her touch featherlight as she traces invisible lines between the little freckles that dot his nose and cheeks. Like his father, they were more pronounced after some time spent in the sun and the faintness of them now speaks to how much time he's been spending inside with her.
They used to be outside at every available opportunity. Astoria would pack a basket with pastries she'd cooked in the morning and sandwiches Mippy had prepared. She'd place a cooling charm over some juices and fill the rest of the space with whatever fruit she could find. And then she'd get Scorpius. When he was small she'd tuck him into the swaddle wrapped around her chest. As he got older she'd put him on her hip, or walk patiently alongside him as he waddled down the steps and across the grounds; his face pinched in determination and the picnic basket floating alongside them to leave her hands free should he fall. On the days Draco joined them (more often than not), he'd be the one to carry him, allowing Astoria a little rest.
They'd go wherever the fancy took them that day. Sometimes to the rose garden, sometimes to the middle of the hedge maze. One time they wandered out so far they found themselves in a bluebell field she'd never known was there and Scorpius had spent an hour picking her a bouquet of the fragrant flowers. He took his first steps on the grass by the greenhouse, said mama for the first time as she lay with him on her belly beneath the willow by the pond. He'd eaten his first strawberry on a Sunday morning as they watched Draco zip around the grounds on his broom, dribbling it right back out to Astoria's shock (until she tasted one herself to find they weren't quite in season yet and were rather sour, a month later when he let her feed him one again he'd eaten so many his bib had been stained pink). He'd grazed his knees on the pebbles by the pack verandah and had been carried back to the house in Draco's arms, fast asleep from a day of running around more times than she could count.
They didn't go outside anymore. She was too tired to make it past the doorway and if a cold breeze caught her the wrong way she felt it so deep in her bones she thought she'd never be warm again. And when she encouraged Scorpius to go outside, to sit by the peacocks or to go on the broom with his dad, he'd always refuse. Not without you, mummy, he'd say. And she'd have to hide the way her heart would break with the knowledge she'd likely never see another sunny afternoon on the picnic blanket with her boys again.
Her thumb brushes over the curve of his cheek, no longer as chubby as they had been even a year ago but still round and soft, like silk beneath the pads of her fingers. She traces the bow of his lips, the distinct curve of his top one so utterly Draco that it makes her smile, right before it brings tears to her eyes.
Her boy. Her baby. The very greatest joy she's brought into this world. The thing she is most proud of.
Astoria lets out a shuddering breath and curves him into her, wrapping herself around him, burying her face in his soft, blonde hair and inhaling deeply. He smells of apples and crayons, of blueberry children's shampoo and her perfume which has rubbed off onto him.
Draco will be here soon. He gives them the afternoon but then he will do as he always does and comes to the sunroom to check on them. Sometimes he'll find them awake, sometimes one or both asleep, the plush armchair as comfortable as any mattress. He'll take Scorpius from her arms, hushing the sleeping boy as he adjusts him in his arms to carry him to bed. And then he'll come back for her and do the same, and she'll ask him how his afternoon was, and he'll kiss her as if she isn't dying. In just the same way he had years ago, when she was strong enough to dance and run and carry her son out to the bluebell field.
Astoria glances over to the clock. Five minutes and he'll be here, but until then she watches her baby sleep, and wonders how many more times she'll be able to.
