Written For:

- Hogwarts Advent Calendar: Written for Lexi (Book of Hope)

Word Count: 1,828

i
He just wants a life for his baby
All on his own, no one will come, he's got to save him

"What do you mean, you're not coming back?"

Draco's voice rang shrilly through the rainy night. An old flame stood on the wet veranda of the Malfoy Manor, her short black hair plastered to her face. She was dressed in just a thin cloak and jersey skirt. "I can't do this!" she whispered, her voice barely a breath. "I'm not…this isn't…what I'm supposed to do."

"And it's what I'm supposed to do?" Draco shouted, glaring at the hidden bundle of blankets in her arms. "Pansy—I'm not married yet, I have a full time job…"

"He's your son." Pansy Parkinson said sternly, and she thrust the bundle towards Draco, holding it into the glow of the hallway. Draco took a step back, suddenly seeing the face of the tiny creature Pansy was holding, and took the baby from her gently.

He was a vision of perfection; a tiny, milk-white face with a wisp of pale hair over his face. When he blinked groggily, he gazed with moon-like blue eyes up at Draco, wearing a tiny frown that Lucius would have been proud of. Every little finger was clenched into a miniature fist, as though he was going to punch his father in the head should he be turned away. "My son…" Draco murmured, gazing down at the baby. "Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? I could have helped you. My father would have paid for everything. My mother would have given you advice. We could have done this together. Everything would be prepared…" Draco continued to stare at the baby, before realising he wasn't getting a reply. "Pansy?" He looked up.

Pansy was gone, never to be seen again.

ii
No one's ever gonna hurt you, love, I'm gonna give you all of my love
Nobody matters like you

While Draco settled remarkably well into fatherhood, the Malfoys did not. Although Narcissa was besotted by the child, Lucius was disgusted. Although the Parkinson had a good reputation and a great name, the mother was nowhere to be found.

Lucius and Narcissa had hoped that they could marry Pansy and Draco off quickly and privately, and convince their circles that they'd eloped while Pansy was pregnant. It wasn't the greatest news for people who wished to be a part of the service, but it was better than the truth.

But their wishes were just that, wishes. Pansy never answered Draco's letters, and the Parkinson family were just as surprised about Pansy's disappearance as everyone else.

With no mother in the picture, Lucius Malfoy refused to house Draco and his son. He insisted that the child couldn't be considered a legitimate Malfoy heir if Draco hadn't been in a legitimate marriage with the mother, so the baby wasn't going to be welcome at the Manor. He wrote out several adoption contracts, with the intention of signing Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy (a name that both Narcissa and Draco had agreed upon) over to a Pureblood family who were void of children. But Draco tore up everyone.

Much to Narcissa's dismay, Draco had had enough after Lucius presented him with the fifth and final contract. He burnt the sheaf of parchment to a crisp and commenced a brisk march around the manor, flicking his wand this way and that. Narcissa ducked various soaring suitcases and hovering piles of clothes as she followed Draco, begging him desperately not to go. Lucius sat at his desk in silence, with a stony, indifferent expression, determinedly ignoring the screaming six-month-old who was laying in a cot some metres away.

Within the hour, Narcissa's eyes were red and raw, and her cheeks were streaked with tear tracks. Lucius didn't leave his desk to say goodbye to his son and grandson, but Narcissa hung on tight enough to his neck to bid goodbye for the both of them.

Draco had enough money to buy a house in the countryside, far enough away from the Malfoy Manor to ignore his father but near enough to enjoy his mother's company during the weekend. It was big enough to keep Scorpius pleasantly housed for the rest of his childhood and adolescence, big enough for Draco to work from home if he didn't have childcare and big enough for Narcissa to move in with him when she finally decided to leave Lucius.

But it was just a little bit too empty for Draco, though he didn't realise until he was completely at ease with his new life as a single father. There was room for one more person—but he didn't know who it would be, not just yet.

iii
Your life ain't gonna be nothing like my life
You're gonna grow and have a good life, I'm gonna do what I've got to do

Although Draco adored the perks, being a single father wasn't easy. The career in banking that Lucius Malfoy had carefully cultivated for him simply wasn't going to cut it anymore. The goblins at Gringotts weren't sympathetic with Draco's plight, and were uninterested in striking up an arrangement for Draco to work around his child. The Malfoy name had little influence in the wizarding world anymore, but it had, and always had, even less influence amongst goblins.

So he was forced, against his better judgement, to get a job at the Ministry of Magic. At the time, the only available position was in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office.

Normally, Draco would never take on such a job. But he discovered that he had to put his pride aside now—he had a child to take care of. He no longer had the luxury of picking and choosing where he wanted to do business. And finally, after an entire lifetime of sneering and turning up his chin towards families like the Weasleys, Draco finally understood.

With children, there wasn't room to care about petty things like blood, and whose blood was the better blood—be it wizard or Muggle. All that mattered in Draco's world would Scorpius, and he realised that he would do anything and work anywhere if it meant that Scorpius would have a happy life.

After all, Arthur Weasley had worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office for years and years, and didn't bring much money home to his enormous family. But every one of those family members were happy, and had happy lives. Draco had been brought up on stacks of galleons and servants and no expense spared—and his life had been far from happy.

He wasn't going to let Scorpius have that same life.

So he took the job. When it didn't bring in quite enough money, he took another job—working a bar in the nearest wizarding village. At first he thought he would find it humiliating, serving beverages to people who barely gave him a second glance, but he found that he enjoyed the experience.

For one, he actually made friends. And through friends, he made playdates for Scorpius. Crèches were formed (at Draco's large countryside house, naturally), and Scorpius had many little friends over to play with during the day. One of Draco's friends that he met at the bar, who had no children, offered to babysit for the children while the other parents were working, and Draco was more than happy to have her around the house.

iv
Now he got a six-year-old, trying to keep him warm
Trying to keep out the cold

Her name was Astoria, and she was a natural around children. Even though Draco adored her in a platonic way for months, even years before, he found that eventually he began to admire her for different reasons.

When Scorpius was six, Astoria had known the father and son duo for nearly five years, and she was a regular at the Malfoy household. They had become fast friends upon learning of their connections; both had gone to Hogwarts, though Draco was a few years her senior. The Greengrass family was in many of the same circles as the Malfoys. Astoria had originally been apprehensive upon meeting Draco, and eventually confessed to him that she had been warned against interacting with the Malfoys after their negative interaction with the war. Once Draco had convinced her that he was no longer that same Malfoy, she relaxed around him.

She started staying later than the rest of their circle of friends, sharing just one more nightcap with Draco before leaving. It was in these private times that Draco shared with Astoria his most personal thoughts, things that he hadn't ever spoken about, that he never thought he needed to speak about. He cried in front of her and she soothed his tears, stroking his back and brushing his eyes with her warm hands. He returned the gesture when she confessed to him that she was unable to conceive a child of her own, and that was why she loved looking after children so much.

When Draco worked late at the bar, he would insist that she spent the night in the guest room. At breakfast, he would see his favourite version of Astoria; sleepy Astoria, wearing an oversized sleep shirt, wiping her groggy eyes and brushing her sweep of glossy brown hair out of her face.

Finally, after almost a year of furtive glances and tingling skin whenever their hands were millimetres away from each other, Draco finally broke the ice. Astoria was laughing, laughing about something silly and small, and she looked so beautiful and radiant in that moment, tossing her hair around her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her bright chestnut eyes, that Draco couldn't wait any longer. He cupped her chin and closed the space between them, capturing her laughing mouth in a kiss.

v
Lift up your head, lift it up to the sky

When Astoria and Draco married, Scorpius was eight. After Draco kissed his beautiful bride, he looked down at his pint-sized best man. Scorpius looked proud in his fancy black tuxedo dress robes, with his pale hair slicked over his head.

Even though Draco knew that Scorpius was the double of how he had looked as an eight year old, Draco could see a vivid difference. When Scorpius smiled, the smile was real. It met his eyes, it was genuine—it wasn't a cruel smirk or a sneer. He didn't have the troubles that Draco had been brought up around, and he certainly didn't have the influence of a man who was so obsessed with blood purity and unwritten rules that it broke his family apart.

As the photographer took their photo (Scorpius in the middle, with Astoria and Draco either side of him), Draco was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

Finally, he was complete.