Draco Malfoy after the war, who doesn‘t know his place in his new world. Who was too weak for the surviving Death Eaters, but too evil for the good side. Draco Malfoy, who is less the proud bully he was at 13 and more the gloomy loner he became at 16. Draco Malfoy, who meets Astoria at a support group for those who have family and loved ones incarcerated. Draco, who didn‘t want to go, especially after his own trials, but who eventually gives it a chance, because he can‘t stay home alone forever. Astoria, who is a frequent member while she watches the trial of her sister. Astoria, who is soft-spoken and kind and patient. Who doesn‘t sugarcoat anything, but delivers each truth with the kindness it deserves. Astoria, who sees Draco‘s pain and puts it into words he didn‘t have for it. Draco, who in turn, listens to her, when she is so often overlooked, always just the younger sister, always the quiet one. Draco who doesn’t diminish, but admires her for her softness. Draco and Astoria, who understand each other, who love in quiet, in whispers instead of grand gestures. Who find peace in each other in a world that always wanted them to fight. Astoria and Draco who get married in a small, private ceremony, half their loved ones missing. Astoria who tells him that she probably won‘t make it to an old age and she won‘t be there for the rest of his life and Draco who still wants to be there for the rest of hers, for every minute they can get. Draco and Astoria, who become pregnant despite the risks to her health, who dare hope of a bright future.
Astoria, who barely survives childbirth and is left at intensive care for the first few days of her son’s life. Draco, who is left with a newborn baby, who realizes he has no idea how to be a father, who relied so much on his wife‘s support that he finds himself not filled with joy, but with fear and overwhelm at the sight of Scorpius. Scorpius, who is a crybaby, who cannot be calmed by anything. Draco who asks his mother for advice and Narcissa who is there immediately, day and night, while they go through the worst of days.
Astoria who eventually recovers, who gets to go home, gets to meet her son. Draco, who slowly learns to be a father, who still has to learn what that means for him and where to draw the line to his own father. Draco, who silently cries at night, because he thinks he will fail his son just like his father did and Astoria who again and again points out all the ways in which he is not like him. Astoria, who silently cries in her sleep because she knows she will most likely not live to see her son grow up, that she will have to leave him one day and Draco who holds her, with no words of comfort and only his presence to give.
Draco, who was not prepared for the love of a child, not prepared for the love he has to give nor the love he receives in return. Draco who learns that he loves being a father. Who learns to be silly again and who will fight every single of his own demons so that Scorpius never feels the way he did growing up.
Scorpius who feels nothing but love from his parents, who, for the longest time, knows nothing of the shadows of their pasts, until he asks when his grandfather died. Narcissa who tells him that he is not dead but in prison. Narcissa who tells him the truth about what happened and of the name he carries. A young Scorpius who realises that the world isn‘t always as kind as his parents made him believe.
Astoria, who sings Scorpius lullabies every evening, even when he‘s too old for it, because they both find peace in it. Young Scorpius who tells his father to sing for him when Astoria had to spend the night in the hospital again. Draco, who has never sung a note in his life, who doesn‘t know a single lullaby. Young Scorpius, who patiently teaches him each line, who tells him „this is when you stroke my hair“, who finds the same comfort in his dad as with his mother and falls asleep peacefully. Draco who leaves the room crying, because deep down he still thought that he was the less important parent. Draco who is completely undone by his son falling asleep to his raspy voice. By the fact that Scorpius trusted him to do it well enough, trusted him enough to tell him what to do, to teach him how to love him, because he didn‘t have a doubt in his heart that Draco would comfort him.
Astoria, who grows weaker with the years. Astoria who spends her last days frantically writing letters, letters over letters to her son, at every age, for everything he might encounter, letters filled with the words love, one for each time she won‘t be able to say it to him.
Astoria, who dies surrounded by her family. Draco who doesn’t get a single word out at the funeral. Narcissa, who steps up and says what needs to be said for him. Scorpius, who sits straight and stares ahead and holds onto Albus’ hand for two hours, not saying a word either, for once more like his father than his mother. Albus, whose hand is hurting, but who holds on, because he doesn‘t know how else to be there for his friend.
Draco and Scorpius, who are so lost in their grief, but who, over the years, have learnt to express their love and to ask for what they need. Draco who asks if he wants a hug. Scorpius who asks if he‘ll tuck him in after the funeral and sing him a lullaby and stroke his hair one more time.
