Astoria was quite satisfied by her day. Though she was heavily fatigued, she had finally gotten baby Scorpius to settle down. Yes, that meant he wasn't sick as she had worried after all. But just as importantly, Astoria could get some rest.
She went through the motions of an evening routine. Tucking into her bed with a copy of the Prophet on the nightstand, Astoria prepared for a moment of relaxation.
"Astoria?" And the moment was over. Her husband was quite red in the face. Despite the impeccably tailored robes, he had a very disheveled look.
"Your presence comes as a surprise, but it is nevertheless welcome. I presumed you were at the Zabinis?" She did well to disguise her amusement from Draco. Those etiquette lessons did prove useful from time to time.
"Yes, I was. I decided to retire early tonight." Astoria stole a sip of her tea. He was leaning on the crib, and as if noticing he had a son for the first time Draco lowered his voice. "I'll be in my room if you require anything."
"I'm fine, thank you. Oh, here is the paper." He accepted the paper and left. And with that, Astoria could finally sleep.
There are two things Astoria notices when she awakes. The first is abnormally loud crying from Scorpius. The second is the sound of equally strange ruckus. Both of these events prompted Astoria to gingerly climb out of bed toward the nursery.
He was bawling uncontrollably. His cheeks were stained with tears, new ones swimming in his eyes. Astoria was stabbed with devastation and she wondered if this was sympathy or love.
The sounds of vase after vase breaking were reverberating through the manor, on and off again. If Scorpius was going back to sleep (and her for that matter) she needed to stop this at the source. With trepidation and her wand drawn, Astoria headed toward the parlour.
She could see the remains of Greengrass heirloom vases mixed up with Bombarded objects. Another chore to do in the morning. Whoever was in that room was an uncivilized twat, not that she hadn't assumed so already. Astoria decided to preview her competition.
With the dim light, it was difficult to be sure what exactly he was doing. The man cast a halfhearted spell at one shelf and slumped in a chair. This was her moment to shine. Astoria sprinted across the room with blazing Gryffindor courage she had not expected.
"Stupefy!" The spell was right on target and struck him mid-draw. She could the steady sound of drums in her ears. Her palms were twitching with electricity. Astoria hadn't felt this exhilarated in ages. And yet so exhausted. "Merlin, I desperately need a break around here. Who do you think you are—Draco?" There was no confusing him. The subdued body in front of her was most certainly Draco Malfoy.
Great Circe, she Stunned her husband. But Draco did wake her and Scorpius up so she supposed they were even. Astoria scanned the room. Books were scorched, her music box was disassembled, and there were bits of sharp glass everywhere. Had he really done this?
"Rennervate."
"Bloody hell, Astoria...what's your problem?" Draco was clutching his head as if he were the victim here.
"You managed to get Scorpius in a fuss. Not only that but I walked all the way over here for a temper tantrum!" Astoria remembered how tired she was and found a seat.
"Look, if you had just read the paper—"
"I reckoned there was a Snatcher and then I find it's my husband driving up a bill!" In truth, he was quite boisterous for an experienced Snatcher but it hardly mattered.
"Astoria!" The urgency in his voice took her by surprise. "Will you just listen for one second? They wrote about Scorpius!"
New Malfoy Heir is He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Child? An Exclusive Interview With Thorfinn Rowle
"Rowle?"
"Tortured him on His orders."
She traced the edge of the paper at a loss. "I thought he went to Azkaban." The headlining photo was of Astoria on one of her sick days holding Scorpius. Draco had coaxed her into staying home after that incident.
"They got a hold of him."
"A Death Eater?"
He winced. "Don't ask me how." Astoria skipped to the meat of the article.
If you're an acquaintance of the Malfoys, you won't be fooled. Malfoy Senior was known to be particularly possessive of certain artifacts. For example, Lucius was rumored to have possession of a Time-Turner, one he could have passed on to his son. Sterility also runs in pureblood lineage. Now let me ask you this: why do you think no one's seen Scorpius out and about? Put two and two together, will you?," said Rowle, who has contacts connected to the Greengrasses as well. When asked to elaborate, Rowle pointed to a photo taken of the new family. "Well, for those of us who experienced the Dark Lord's power firsthand, we know he had an heir before his demise. Already in this photograph, he looks a smidge like Riddle. See here...
"Rubbish, all of it." Astoria threw it to the ground with bravado, but she didn't know if pureblood poise could help her this time. She stared at the outside world with contempt. "This doesn't explain-" A pitiful sob reached her ears, Astoria swung around to meet it. "What are you doing?" Draco had buried his face in his hands, quivering in the nearly-demolished room. For the display he had put up, her husband was becoming incredibly vulnerable.
"I hadn't known what they wrote, but I was finding my father's Time-Turner this afternoon. I abandoned the idea and went to the Zabinis as scheduled. Blaise asked if I was raising his son..."
Astoria cautiously placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry if I've caused any trouble-"
"I cursed him. Stunning Spell. Ironic, isn't it? I'm worked up over Blaise then I come home and take it all out on this dingy parlour."
Astoria smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Has anyone ever commented on your temper?"
He shook his head. "Not since school." They fell into silence. There was too much on her mind and few words to articulate them.
She hesitated before speaking carefully thought out words. "Do you hear that, Draco?" Astoria made a weak but steady motion in the direction of the nursery. "That's Scorpius. He's beautiful, healthy, and he's ours. For the moment he's miserable, as much as a child can be. Now, what would you be doing up here in drowning in your own misery that's so much more important? Help me up, will you? You can help tidy this up later." He gave a reassuring nod, but his face was still wet with tears. She gently nested one delicate hand inside a damp but warmer one. With effort and a firm grip, Astoria began to walk.
The walls of her room were blank, so Astoria plastered them with memories. The crowning jewel was a meticulously embroidered map of the world and a bucket list of cities she wished to visit. It's quite childish, but she had enjoyed being a child. Scorpius was crying, but softer than earlier. He sounded hungry if anything. She hummed while reaching for a bottle.
"Need anything?" Scorpius was grasping Draco's finger with his other hand, although by her husband's expression infantile behavior will have to get used to.
"You can change his nappy. I'll rock him to sleep, though it's near morning and I wouldn't want the sun to wake him-"
"Get some rest, Astoria. I'll wake you if I require your expertise."
That was the cue she was waiting for. Going to sip her now room temperature tea, Astoria moved to let go of his hand. His touch lingered for a brief moment, an unremarkable moment in the passage of time yet made all the more important by the fact. Astoria was handed the domestic life with someone she barely knew and now she's making the most of it.
"Do you feel better?"
"Nearly so. But I have more important matters to attend to. Good night, Astoria." Light was spilling through the curtains. The sun was rising.
"Good night."
The Wizarding World will surely cast looks of distaste at her family. But it would do no good to look forlornly into the future. After an atypical day of chores, casting a Stunning Spell at her husband, watching two separate people cry and a frenzy of her own emotions, Astoria could (truly, this time) finally sleep.
A/N: None of us own it and we never will.
WC: 1,426
Herbology; Whomping Willow Assignment #1: Write about someone with a violent temper.