Holocene

A/N: Can be read as a sequel to Equinox, or as a standalone. Brief connections to Chapter 5 of Until the End. CURSED CHILD SPOILERS AHEAD.

"Someway, baby, it's part of me, apart from me" – Holocene by Bon Iver

August 27th 2019

Breathe in... Breathe out... Breathe in... Breathe out...

Every breath made his heart beat faster. Every breath might have been her last; and then another one came. He should have been thankful for every extra breath that she took. But with every extra breath he wondered if that would be the final one he would ever hear. If that would be the last sound his wife, his beautiful Astoria, would ever make.

They had known this was coming ever since Scorpius was born. They had known even before then, but as predicted having a child had made her weaker, and suddenly death was coming a little faster than expected. In the past few months, she had gotten progressively worse. Draco hadn't left her side in days. He hadn't slept in days either, but that didn't matter – he needed to spend every moment of her life awake, bottling her moments for recollection, so at least then she wouldn't be lost to history.

Paler and paler, weaker and weaker, she gradually faded, staring into his eyes and giving one final warm smile before drifting out of consciousness one last time. And all of a sudden everything became a blur, the healer's who had looked after her now gave him their condolences. Gathering his heart from the carpeted floor, he cracked the door open to Scorpius' bedroom. Their son had fallen asleep, holding her hand hours ago, but Astoria hadn't wanted him to witness her leaving, so Draco had carried him to bed in the next room. He had said goodbye to her already, so at least, in the horrific pain that this would be, that wouldn't be an extra stab.

He looked as peaceful in life as she currently did so in death. 'Scorpius.' Draco whispered, shaking his son gently. The boy woke, sat up and stared back into the eyes that were so clearly consumed with heartache.

'She's gone isn't she?' Scorpius' voice cracked, and Draco's heart broke all over again.

'Yeah... she's gone.' Immediately his son's arms were around him, and the younger Malfoy started crying a silent lament. He couldn't cry. Not in front of Scorpius. Not yet.

Right now he was numb. He might never feel again.

November 1st 2020

At last, they are sitting down and talking. Well, he's lying in the hospital wing following on from the multiple hits of the Cruciatus curse from Delphini. Now, after all the silence and solitary reflection, mourning and grief, now they have to talk. He notices how his Dad hasn't left his side all night. He's drifted in and out of consciousness, but a part of him smiled internally at when Madam Pomfrey said visiting hours were over and Draco insisted he wasn't leaving. 'I can't leave him. I won't leave him, after all he's been through tonight.'

When he wakes in the morning, his father is already hurriedly asking questions to see if he's alright; if he's in any pain; how many fingers he's holding up; what's the last thing he remembered. He has become everything Astoria was in life, because now he's trying a juggling act of both father and mother in one being.

'How are you feeling?'

'Sore. Better than I did though.'

'Listen, I- I know I've been distant, far more than I ever should have been since your mum died. And last night, these past couple of months, have made me see that – and I'm sorry Scorpius. I'm so sorry.'

Quiet lulls between them. There's a desire to speak and say the unsaid, but some unsaid things are better left just as that. So much time has passed since they properly talked about how they were feeling and their relationship; so much that they both know that the cracked fragments of their relationship need to be picked up and glued together once again. A part of Scorpius truly believes that Astoria was the glue that held them together, and yet another part knows better. It's been so long since they talked, and yet the fact that they are gives him warmth that nothing else ever could have.

'Where do we go from here?' Scorpius asks, looking directly at the eyes that he inherited. Normally Draco's seem sharp, preoccupied, but today... they're teary. Pained.

'We need to start talking properly, and I know that the reason we haven't been is my fault, and I'm going to fix it, I promise. The rumours. They're going to be denied by the Ministry, and given what's happened, I don't think anyone will believe them anymore. It'll stop, the teasing and the name-calling. Hogwarts won't be perfect, but it'll be easier.'

There's a brief silence before he decides to break the ice again, 'This was easier with Mum. We were close back then. She was like the glue that held us all together.'

'I know. And I agree that we need to start talking about her too. Whatever questions you have; not just about Mum, but about anything. We're going to get through this together, and I mean it, Scorpius, I promise.'

'How did you get Mum to like you?' He sits up a little. It's a question, and it's something that'll bring them closer together; he just knows it.

'I don't know...'Draco says, his eyes wandering the walls of this corner of the hospital wing with familiarity. 'I was shocked every time she told me she loved me, but she was stubborn, apparently she liked moody, lost, isolated people, and she wasn't going to back down. I was just myself, she- she brought out the best in me. There's someone, isn't there?'

He tries and looks away, but can feel the red creeping onto his pale face. His Dad's mouth curled into a small smile. 'You do, don't you? Who is she – or he?'

'Rose. Ron and Hermione's daughter.'

'Seriously? A Malfoy likes a Granger-Weasley? That's a first...' Draco laughs quietly, and Scorpius feels the awkwardness disperse.

'I thought you liked Ron and Hermione now?'

'Eh, turns out they're alright...' Draco shrugs, 'Come here,' He whispers, and like he did the night before, hugs his son tightly. It feels warm and welcoming, something that until last night, Scorpius hadn't felt amongst family since Astoria died. 'I do love you, with all my heart, you know.'

'I love you too.' Scorpius mumbles into Draco's shoulder, and he swears he feels the elder Malfoy's arms wrap even tighter around him.

14th September 2027

The doorbell rung, and naturally after the walk from the living room, the large oak door creeks open. He expected it to be someone else, anyone else. But the last person he expected was his son. Scorpius wouldn't knock on the door; he'd apparate into the living room and laugh at making his father jump, or he'd stumble in floo via the fireplace, stumbling like his typical clumsy self.

Instead his son was stood there, eyes red rimmed and pale face even blancher than usual. He hadn't seen this face in many years – not at least since Scorpius' fourth year escapades at Hogwarts.

'Dad, Can- Can I come in?' Scorpius stumbled, tears bubbling in his eyes for what mustn't have been the first time that day.

'Of course you can,' Draco sighed worriedly, putting a hand on his son's shoulder and gesturing for him to come out of the autumn cold.

'Scorpius, what's wrong?'

'Rose-'

'Rose. What's happened to Rose?' They now stood a little further down the corridor of Malfoy Manor's entrance hallway. Boxes were scattered all over the place, incomplete by his brief abandonment of packing. After years of living alone following on from Astoria's death, he agreed following discussion with Scorpius a few months prior that he'd move out. Malfoy Manor would still be his, but it was haunted by too many memories, and he needed a change of scene instead of living out his days in that place. A cottage in the countryside had been located, and soon, he'd move to there, but for now, it seemed more pain can be added to this house of tears.

'We-we were going to have a baby.' Scorpius began, wiping tears from his face, not wanting to feel the sting of what had happened any longer.

'Were?'

'She lost it.' He croaked, and suddenly Draco was hugging him harder than he had in a very long time, or at least it felt that way. An overwhelming sense of comprehension washed over him, now it made sense why Scorpius and Rose have seemed so happy in the past couple of months. Now it makes sense why they exchanged knowing glances at gatherings. Now it hit him that very briefly, he was meant to be somebody's grandfather. Every shake of his son's shoulders was a cut at the grief he'd been through before.

'It's okay... it's okay...' He said holding Scorpius, before guiding him over to a sofa, 'I'm so sorry, Scorpius.'

'You've got nothing to be sorry for. Nobody has, not Rose, nor I, nor the healers. They said it couldn't have been predicted, but we couldn't have ever done anything to stop it. I'm sorry we didn't get to tell you the good news when there was good news. We didn't tell anyone just in case.'

'Don't be sorry, you did the right thing. It would have been harder to go around and tell everyone. Does anyone else know?' Draco whispered, conjuring the mug of tea he'd originally just made for himself. The tea could wait for him; and so instead, he put a drop of a calming potion into the drink, and passed it over to the younger Malfoy.

'Rose went home a couple of days ago, so I'm assuming she's probably told Ron and Hermione. Albus knows, because he was there when we got back from the hospital and he just knew there was something wrong. And then there's you.' Scorpius said, now struggling to look directly at his father as the calming potion takes effect. 'We didn't plan for this to happen. We weren't ready to have children yet, but then we found out and that didn't matter anymore. We could work around it; we were so happy. And that's why it hurts so much, because we're both wracking our brains trying to figure out what we did wrong and never getting anywhere.'

'I love her so much, and I wanted to keep an eye on her. But I didn't stop her when she left to the Weasley's, she needed that – otherwise we both would've cracked.'

'You know – maybe this could have something to do with your Mum's blood condition. Did the healer's mention anything about that?'

'I thought about it, and mentioned it to them, they said they'd look into it. Do you really think it could be?'

'Maybe. I'm not saying anything definitive, but we know it's genetic, we know it can be passed on. There's a chance that it could have been that and it just,' Draco hesitated, uncertain of how to phrase the last part ' took it's effect.'

A shaking hand ran through Scorpius' hair, swallowing another sip of the potion. 'I don't know where we go from here? Where do we go from here? One minute we're having a child together and the next we can barely look at each other.'

Draco's arm tightened around his son's shoulders. 'You still love each other. You're Scorpius and Rose. You love each other so much sometimes it's disgusting to watch.' He extracted a laugh out of Scorpius before continuing. 'This won't break your relationship, it'll just make it stronger, and then when the time is right, this situation won't end the way it just has. Really, Scor.'

1st September 2028

'What are we doing here?' Rose giggles as they run through the wall onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The train is departing in 2 minutes, and the rush of students to carriages, giving final goodbyes to family; and the sounds of owls, cats, ferrets, laughter, and steam ignites the platform with life and excitement. 'Everyone we know has finished Hogwarts...'

'Hang on-' Scorpius pulls her hand gently and they weave through the crowds, the and steam, in and out of pillars to get to what he believes is the perfect spot. It's quiet enough that nobody notices they're there and they can stand behind the crowds waving farewells. He's stopped them under an archway two thirds of the way down the platform. 'Eleven years ago this very hour, you and Albus walked into my compartment on the Hogwarts Express. I liked you, but you hated me, and it took me nearly 4 years to get you to come around and for us to become friends. But it was worth the wait, because I got one of my best friends out of it. Then on this very platform five years ago, you agreed to finally finally go out with me, after one failed attempt in fourth year, and one surprisingly successful attempt at Christmas in seventh year. And we went on our first day just over a week later. This is the place where, no matter how many years it took for you to love me back, because let's face it – I thought you were brilliant from the very beginning – this is the place that brought us together, again and again and again.

'Scor-' Rose breathes but can't say more, rendered moved by the gesture.

'This is the very place that where our friendship and relationship started. And it's been a journey, and there have been hard times, and there have been wonderful, wonderful moments – there are everyday. And the truth is, that there's no one I'd rather go on this journey with, no matter how difficult it gets, than you.' His voice is shaking, and he reaches for the box that he packed into his pocket, recalling the conversation he had with his father...

He gives Rose the ring that Draco once gave Astoria.

He'd heard the story a couple of years after his mother had died. After what had happened with Delphini, they had amicably agreed that like Harry and Albus, they needed to talk; and they needed to talk about Astoria, and what happened to her.

Now, 8 years on, he knew that story back to front. When he couldn't sleep he thought about how his Dad must have proposed to his mum. He thought of the shock he remembered on her face whenever she was surprised. He thought of his proper and somewhat buttoned up father being so overwhelmed by the moment that he blurted the question out, and knelt in a puddle. He thought of the joy that must have existed between his parents on that rainy night in Piccadilly Circus.

He had the love that they had had with Rose. He had the love that Ron and Hermione had with Rose. He was certain of it.

Until his Draco gave it to him, for years he had believed that the ring, a small diamond set in a silver band, had been buried with his mother, like her wedding ring.

'She said the wedding ring stood for more to her, it was binding, whilst an engagement ring is a temporary symbol.' Draco sighed, recalling his late wife's words. He put his mug down and looked to where his son was sat next to him. At times he was a painful reminder of the wife he had lost, but he also saw so much of himself in Scorpius, not least the appearance. 'A few days before she... she died, she took it off and handed it to me. I think she knew at that point that it was coming closer. Mum asked me to give this to you when the time came. For whenever you found someone who you too, might want to spend your life with. You don't have to use it, but she wanted to offer it, in case you did.'

An overwhelming love for his mother had washed over Scorpius; not that it had ever faded. To think that she had thought of things like this, and how she would miss things like this. To think that she had thought about him so much in her dying days was both heart-warming and devastating.

He took the ring from his father, and conjured a ring box to place it in. 'Of course, I will.' He croaked, snapping it shut. He knew Rose would love it.

And she does.

He's his usual clumsy, nervous self, but that doesn't matter in the moment when he gets down on one knee and opens the box with the silver ring tucked neatly inside. Rose gasps, and he can see that she's shaking just as much as he is, but the smile on her face could out shine the sun. Heck , she is giving him the sun; it could evaporate the steam that has surrounded them as the train whistles and departs in the background. The smile tells him everything he ever wanted to know.

'Rose Hermione Granger-Weasley, will you marry me?'

'Yes.' Her voice is so quiet that it would be inaudible to anyone but him, but it's so consumed with love she could be using a sonorous spell for all he knows. She said yes. 'Yes!' She repeats her voice shaking with something between tears and laughter. He quickly stands and pulls her into an embrace, her kissing him harder than he can ever remember. They stand in the embrace for what feels like an eternity, hugging and one, long hard kiss, before Scorpius moves away to regain his balance, somewhat overwhelmed by the moment. She said yes. Still shaking, quivering with excitement, a warm hand of his took Rose's cold left and slid the ring on her finger, grateful for casting a resizing charm beforehand so this went smoothly.

'I love you Bread Head.' Rose beams re-entering the embrace and kissing her now fiancé again, muffling his giggles at the old nickname. Her hands are resting against his chest as she leans back in his arms still wrapped around her; oceanic eyes are alight with intense love and joy.

He thinks of the day that will be ahead – telling his Dad, and her parents once Hermione is home from the Ministry, telling Albus and their other friends; simply celebrating the fact that they, Scorpius and Rose, are going to get married.

On release from the kiss Scorpius bursts into laughter, 'I love you too, Rosie.'

28th September 2029

She was missing this. She was missing her son's wedding.

She'd known this was going to happen. She'd been so horribly, fully, utterly aware of it. Even before he was born in the midst of their excitement, there would be nights where she'd break down, crying over the fact that she would see all the milestones. All the big moments. Whilst other couples would be thinking about all the moments they would see their child through, their thoughts were fractured by the tick of time, splintering and slicing at the Astoria's life.

And now he was sat at a table with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. He could see Scorpius laughing as he danced with Rose; her vivid red hair bold in contrast to the pale blonde of his son. They looked so happy, so in love, so looking forward to a long future together. Suddenly the stab of a reminder seeped through his veins. They should be dancing together, celebrating their son's marriage to a wonderful girl who he had grown to love, as would Astoria. But they weren't. Instead he was here alone, and she was watching from somewhere distant.

'Do you want a dance?' Ginny said, offering a hand out to him. He could see Harry smiling from the seat opposite him, torn between watching what was going on here, and what was going on with his friends and family on the dance floor.

'Sure.' Draco smiled and they headed over a fair distance from where Scorpius and Rose were still dancing.

'She's here you know. If not physically in spirit.' She whispered after a couple of minutes

'I know. I'm so proud of him, but it just reminds me that she should be seeing this too.'

'She can. Even if you can't feel her, she's watching.'

XXXXXXXXXX

8th March 2031

They name her Grace.

Grace Astoria Malfoy-Weasley

From the beginning, they had been adamant about Astoria not being the first name. They had seen what it had done to Albus when they were younger, and they didn't want that kind of pressure on their own child. Nevertheless, as a middle name it was the one certainty that came in naming their daughter.

Scorpius is certain that she looks like her. Whilst she has Rose's hair, complexion, and then features which are identical to any other new born baby, there's a distinct look of his mother in her that he can't quite put his finger on. She's the first girl to be born into the Malfoy family in over a century, not that the Malfoy name means anything to them past his Mum and Dad. She's the first ginger in a notoriously blonde group, but that was to be expected when she's half Weasley. Most relieving of all, there's no sign that she has inherited the blood malediction. To him, she is perfect.

Ron and Hermione have already come to meet her, and from the expressions in both pairs of eyes, it's no secret that they are going to spoil and adore their granddaughter. And soon Draco will be here as well. Then, no doubt, a stream of Hugo, Albus, cousins and other family members over the next couple of days. It both scares and thrills him, to be responsible for someone else's life, but there's no one he would rather it be.

8th March 2031

He meets her in the cold of early March, in a room assigned 'Granger-Weasley.'

The light breezes and new leaves have brought her with them and now, in the dead of night, he has a granddaughter. Rose has long been asleep in the bed which he's sat beside, and Scorpius, sat on the other side is smiling sleepily, drifting in and out of consciousness. He can't blame him; where Grace is only a few hours old, the final wait for her arrival was a 14-hour stint. Most of Draco's day, from the 8AM owl telling him what had happened in the past 4 hours had been spent sitting in his small living room, awaiting a figure to step out of the fireplace, or an owl to come in the window. Nowadays, he avoided hospitals as much as possible, but when Hugo Granger-Weasley stepped through the fireplace, he went to St Mungo's more than willingly.

And now they were here, and he had a granddaughter. And Scorpius and Rose had a daughter.

He didn't think his throat had ever constricted as tightly as it had when they'd told him Grace's middle name was Astoria. Ron and Hermione, who had headed home for a few hours sleep had been delighted, as had he, even if the tears had started burning when he'd heard the name. Grace grunted softly, looking at her granddad with a certain level of perplexity.

'Hello Gracie,' He whispered, allowing the baby to wrap her fingers around his thumb. 'I see you've got great parents here. A great mum and a great dad. He's going to be brilliant.'

She had two parents. Two perfectly healthy parents. One the product of two of the Golden Trio, who expressed the true meaning of good parenting. One the product of love and heartbreak, but ultimate love triumphing. They would fault, but they'd be brilliant nevertheless.

'I just know it.'

Author's Note: This has been in the works for ten months, as hugely inspired by Cursed Child. In March 2016, I uploaded a standalone called Equinox about Draco and Astoria, and much to my surprise, some of the themes I hinted at in that fanfic scarily paralleled Draco's story in Cursed Child.Cursed Child has made me love Draco Malfoy where beforehand I loathed him, and the events that occur in the script (still yet to see the play – but August!) triggered immense sympathy, which bled into writing. This could be read as a sequel to Equinox but also completely alone. Love or hate, like or dislike this, this came from a place of overwhelming love for a broken character whose life just continues to be stamped upon (and a complete adoration for his son, who feels very much like a male version of myself.)