A/N- Happy Holidays! I hope everyone is having a great time and this story is dedicated to everyone who has read/ is reading, following and favouriting (is that a word?) My writing. Thank you so much, everyone! However, there is one special dedication to my friend PPM. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2018 PPM!
So, I am more of a Romione than Dramione shipper but since PPM requested a Dramione angst fic, here it is. I know, having no beta and writing for a ship you don't ship is no excuse for lousy writing, so please review even if it is a single word but I would be grateful for constructive criticism or even just mentions of things you liked. Thanks for reading, have a great day and if interested in beta reading, send me a pm.
Mild spoilers for Cursed Child.
Also, I have treated Cursed Child as only mildly canon. Yes, the events happened in this universe but the houses weren't the same because I feel that the sorting in Cursed Child was more plot oriented than character oriented. For example Rose shows certain traits that point towards another house than the lions'. No offense intended.
Without further ado...
A Malfoy and a Granger:
If asked, Scorpius could tell the exact moment he fell for Rose Weasley. It was when she walked, back straight and head held high to the Slytherin table despite the shocked silence of the hall. The fact that she looked really pretty with her dark red hair and warm brown eyes as she sat next to him the next morning at the Hufflepuff table had absolutely nothing to do with it.
"Why did you sit there?" He would ask years later.
"Because you are a Malfoy and Malfoys were powerful in Slytherin. Because you looked lonely. Because Al wanted to be friends with you and I wanted to beat him. Because my Dad told me not to and I wanted to break the divide between our houses. We are stronger united, Scor." And then in the press of her lips, she would whisper in his mouth.
"Because I wanted a friend. And somehow I knew, I would fall for you."
But that was years later.
****
Draco could never tell when it began. Was it the first year?
No, he still despised her for her friendship with Potter, her intelligence and her blood then.
Who was this muggle upstart with her wayward hair, had she never heard of potions, taking his rightful place as the smartest in their year?
No, Draco never knew when it began but he knew when it didn't.
It didn't begin on a Quidditch pitch when she glared at him over her shoulder while lugging a puking Weasley to the oaf's hut.
It certainly didn't begin when she called him a cockroach and punched him.
No, somewhere between beautiful blue dresses, a war and the desperate need to save his family, somewhere between murder and running and helping and not knowing right from wrong, somewhere between being the "Prince of Slytherin" to being a prisoner in his own home, Draco Malfoy fell for Hermione Granger.
He fell for her bossy nature and know-it-all attitude, her no longer toothy smile and now tamed hair. Somewhere between mudblood and war heroine, Draco Malfoy fell in love with Hermione Granger.
And she fell in love with Weasley.
Scorpius never tried to fight his feelings for Rose. Not once. Not when her father glared at him at platform nine-three-and-quarters, at the end of the first year as he snatched Rose's hand away.
Not when his father raised an eyebrow at the display and his mother shook her head at the show of aggression.
Not when Grandfather Lucius tried to tell him to be a respectable pureblood lad and not let his Mother's ideas get to his head.
No, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy knew he loved Rose Granger-Weasley and not even thinly veiled threats from both purebloods and those who suspected him of being Voldemort's child could dissuade him.
Draco didn't realize he loved her, that his words of insult were a fight against his own feelings until he saw his Aunt crave her arm. Until he heard her screams. It hit him like a curse to the face in the moment when his fists clenched and he was one step from freeing Potter and Weasley or Salazar forbid take on his Aunt, himself just to get those screams to stop.
Draco fought his feelings with everything he had. They were wrong, wrong, wrong. They felt...right?
Wrong.
He fought them through two sides of a war, he fought them as he duelled her best friend and he fought them hard enough to not jump towards her when a chandelier fell on her.
When Scorpius looked at Rose Weasley walking down the aisle, his heart seemed to stop.
He never learned the pain of letting go, as they both grew old and grey.
Draco was forced to give up the love of his life. Twice.
Most people found one great love, he had fallen twice. And it hurt, it hurt so so much. When he watched her walk towards Weasley in that dusty courtyard after Hogwarts, after the battles and wars, when he saw her glide her way down the aisle (finally having learned the uses of a hair potion) across the Daily Prophet, he ached. He cursed and raged at himself. Why hadn't he fought for her? Why had he realized so late? Why was it wrong when it felt so right?
Love hurt.
Draco learned this when he lost Hermione, even when she was never his.
Love healed. Love made people stronger.
Astoria Greengrass was a loud mouth. Elegant dress and styled hair, shining eyes and opinions she would die for. Her soft, feminine voice boomed with power. She was smart, smarter than anyone he had met. Cunning. Witty. She was beautiful, all brown hair and green sparkling eyes. She fought for half-blood rights. She loved him.
The second time Draco fell in love, it was like falling asleep. Laughing conversations, sombre talks of war, displays of wealth, parades through Diagon Ally and watching the stars from the astronomy tower, all blended together into racing hearts and chapped lips. Scars. Bad memories replaced with new. Never gone, just pushed back. It was so unbecoming a pureblood to behave how he did. Nervous twitches and sweaty palms made not a Malfoy.
His mother encouraged it.
I felt the same when I met your father, little Dragon.
His father hated it.
Screaming matches and threats.
Curses and death.
This time, Draco fought for love.
And watching her walk down the aisle towards him, holding their son, living a life with her, it was worth watching her fall, wither and die. The moments together were worth the pain of burying her still too young but no longer vibrant body.
Draco prevailed.
Through war and love and death, Draco Malfoy prevailed.
And then the war came again. This time, they won. Delphi Riddle's tricks brought him back his son. Scorpius.
Watching Scorpius dance with Rose, was like an impression what could have been, on that Yule ball ages ago. Hermione in her blue dress and him in his robes. A Granger and a Malfoy. No, a Weasley and a Malfoy. Who would have thought?
Yet, in them, he didn't see Hermione and himself.
In the adoration in his eyes, in that sparkle in hers, in the way his hand tightened on her waist to pull her close, in the way she lay her head over his heart, in their love, Draco saw Astoria and himself.
Love that healed.
Love that prevailed.