Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.

Written for my lovely Saltpot for GGE18. Pls don't ded me, I love you.

Challenges listed at the bottom.

Beta'd By Grandma and Amber

Word Count - 3859


The Brightest Star In The Sky


He straightened his tie, tightening it to the top button of his shirt. The mirror showed that his suit was immaculate and his hair was brushed back, not a single strand out of place.

If only the bags under his eyes didn't give him away so badly.

He sighed and turned to his son, his heart breaking for the hundredth time in a week when he saw the little boy trying to tighten his own tie as Draco had just done.

"Here, sweetheart, let Daddy help," he murmured, straightening out the suit.

As smart as his boy looked, Draco hated that it was necessary. Scorpius looked strange almost, as polished as he was. Draco much preferred the little boy in his scuffed jeans and slightly oversized t-shirts.

He'd always looked like a mini-me for his papa, and when he was dressed in his usual clothes, the similarities were even more apparent.

The suit was… not right.

He checked his watch and sighed deeply, running a hand through Scorpius' hair. "Come on, Son. We have to go, the car will be here in a few minutes."

The funeral was packed with people. That was one of the first things Draco noticed, and it made him pull Scorpius closer to his side, his grip tightening slightly on the little boy's shoulder.

He accepted condolences politely, shaking hands with people he didn't know, hugging the people he did.

Molly and Arthur stood close by, Molly leaning into Arthur's side, already dabbing at the tears on her face with a handkerchief.

It hurt Draco to look at them, because he'd never have that comfort. His husband was dead.

Draco's chest tightened at the abruptness of the invading thought and he took a deep breath, trying to force his lungs to work. He wouldn't lose it here, not in front of Scorpius.

The little boy was too young to really understand what was going on, and Draco refused to traumatise him more than absolutely necessary. He hadn't even really wanted Scorpius at the funeral, but Molly had told him that Scorpius deserved to be there.

That he'd be upset later in life if he wasn't.

Draco still wasn't sure if it was the right choice, but it was done and whatever the consequences, he'd have to live with it.

...

If asked later, Draco wouldn't be able to tell anyone what was said. The words barely penetrated his mind as he stared at the coffin that held the first and only man he'd ever loved.

His husband.

God, but he was too young to be burying his husband. They should have had so many more years together, so much more time to just be them, to be a unit, a partnership, a pair.

Instead, Draco had been left alone with their son and a gaping wound where his heart used to be.


Draco didn't think he'd ever seen someone look so happy for no apparent reason. He was sitting in the library, his headphones in as he flicked through a book, looking for a reference he needed, when he first saw the boy.

He thought it might be the first time he'd seen this red head, though he was quite sure that the boy had siblings. That or the town was even more inbred that his parents feared.

Regardless, the smile on the boy's face was odd. He looked… so happy. In a library. Definitely weird.

Draco shrugged it off and turned his attention back to his book. He didn't have time to wonder about the random happiness of random redheads.

Some time later, he heard a scrape that was even louder than the music playing in his ears and looked up, surprised to see the redhead sitting down at Draco's table like that was a perfectly natural thing to do.

The redhead's lips moved, though Draco didn't hear the words. He reluctantly pulled on of the earbuds out.

"What?"

"I said, do you mind if I sit here?"

Draco blinked. "Bit late now even if I did mind, isn't it?"

"You're new here."

"What gave it away?" Draco asked dryly.

"The blond hair," the redhead replied solemnly. "The chemist down the road sells red hair dye, you know? So you can fit in."

"Not everyone around here has red hair," Draco snorted.

"I mean… my family makes up half of the town and we all do so… but hey, if you wanna stand out as a misfit, that's up to you. At least you won't need a costume at Halloween right? You can be one of those freaky blondes from the city."

Draco couldn't help himself and he chuckled.

The redhead's grin widened. "I'm Charlie Weasley."

"Draco Malfoy."


"When did you get so tall?" George asked, crouching down in front of Scorpius. "I swear, you were pint sized last time I saw you! What's your dad been feeding you?"

Scorpius giggled and Draco smiled down at him before glancing at George gratefully.

"Do you want to come and see what me and your uncle Fred have been working on for the joke shop?" George asked then, holding his hand out to Scorpius.

Scorpius looked up at his dad, and Draco nodded, bending to kiss his temple. "Why don't you go and see what Uncle George and Uncle Fred have been up to? I'll come and get you in a little while, okay?"

Scorpius nodded and took George's hand, letting himself be led away. Draco watched them go until they were out of sight and then slumped back against the wall, running a hand over his face.

"Sweetheart, you should eat," Molly murmured, appearing at his side like magic. Draco only barely managed not to visibly jump.

"I'm okay," he assured her. "I… if I eat, I think I'll just vomit it straight back up anyway."

She nodded understandingly. "George and Fred will be good for Scorpius. He needs a little bit of normalcy."

Draco smiled tiredly. "I know. I wish… well. I wish a lot of things."

"We're all here, you know. If you ever need a break or just want a little time to yourself. Just because Charlie… well. We're still your family, yours and Scorpius'."

"I… you should know that I don't intend to… I still want all of you in his life. I just," Draco shook his head. "I feel like that needs to be said because, well, you know my family. Scorpius needs people that love him and-"

"We love both of you," Molly interjected, reaching out to squeeze his wrist. "And you may have been born a Malfoy, Draco, but you're a Weasley now."

Draco felt something inside him unclench and he leant into her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders as she wrapped hers around his waist. It was a hug that spoke of a mother's love and he sunk into it, the same way he always had.

Molly Weasley had been the first to show him how a parent should be, and he hoped that he would always be able to emulate her warmth with Scorpius.

When they pulled back, Molly was discreetly trying to wipe her eyes, and Draco felt calmer, yet somehow even closer to breaking than he had been before.

"Eat something, if you can, sweetheart," she murmured, before she stepped away, returning to her place at Arthur's side.

Draco watched them with a longing so powerful it hurt. He didn't need to look around the room to know that his own parents hadn't bothered to come to the funeral.

Looking at Molly and Arthur, Draco found that he no longer felt the disappointment he once would have.


Draco was nervous.

It was a strange feeling. He didn't usually get nervous before a date, or at least, he hadn't when they'd still lived in London.

Perhaps it was because he actually liked Charlie. He'd never had a date with someone he genuinely liked before.

It was a novel concept.

They met at the school gates. Charlie had offered to pick him up, but just the idea of his parents seeing him being picked up by a boy was enough to make Draco shudder. His mother would probably merely purse her lips and look down on Charlie, Draco was under no illusion that his father would be anything other than blatantly offensive.

Wrapped up to ward off the crisp autumn air, Draco waited for Charlie to arrive. When he finally showed up, ten minutes late and pink from exertion since he'd clearly run, Draco couldn't help but be charmed.

"Sorry I'm late," he panted. "Mum made me feed the chickens before she let me leave."

"Chickens?"

"Yeah. We live at the farm down at the bottom of the town. You might have seen it on your way in? The Burrow?"

Draco shrugged. "Probably." It was a lie. He'd seen it. He remembered it perfectly, because his father had muttered up a storm at the misshapen house and what it meant for the town if that was what was on the way in.

Draco had wanted to snap that it was his father's misdeeds that had forced them to move to the sleepy town in the first place but of course he hadn't. He'd stayed silent. Like always.

"Shall we?" Charlie asked, nodding to the field where a bonfire was already burning and people were writing in the darkness with sparklers. Draco could smell the hotpot, and he could see stalls selling bonfire toffee and toffee apples.

"I… yeah."

"You know, I've never been to a bonfire celebration like this," Draco said, as the two of them walked around the stalls.

People called out to Charlie, greeting him cheerfully, and he always waved but Draco was gratified to note that his attention remained firmly on Draco.

"What are bonfire celebrations like where you're from then?" he asked, and Draco shrugged.

"I don't… I went to a private school. All celebrations were in the form of balls, you know? Tuxedos and cocktail dresses and social graces. This is… this is much better."

"Yeah?"

Draco nodded. "It seems more…" he couldn't think of a word. "Just more, I guess."

Charlie grinned at him. "Well, of course it is. You didn't have me at all these fancy balls, so obviously this is better."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Think so highly of your company, do you?"

"Don't you?" Charlie asked cheekily, and when Draco's cheeks coloured pink, he reached out and grabbed Draco's gloved hand with his own. "Come on. I see one of those shooting stands. I'll win you a teddy bear."

(By the end of the night, Draco had won Charlie two bears, and Charlie had won Draco none because he was a crap shot. Somehow, Draco still went home feeling like the winner.)


Draco woke suddenly, disoriented in the dark room. It took him a moment to place where he was, and he'd only just realised that he'd fallen asleep in the living room when he heard a scream, followed by, "Papa! Papa!"

He got up from the chair and stumbled up the stairs to his son's bedroom. Scorpius was thrashing in the bed, still calling out for his papa, and Draco had to bite his lip hard to stop his own anguish overcoming him.

He crossed the room and gently shook his son awake, watching the reality dawn on the little boy in small increments until he threw himself into Draco's arms, sobbing against his shirt.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Draco comforted. He didn't believe the words himself, but for Scorpius, he could pretend. "It's all going to be fine."

"I miss Papa," Scorpius cried. "When is he coming home?"

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry, Papa's not coming home, I'm sorry."

Scorpius' sobs intensified and Draco tugged him more securely into his lap, holding him tightly as he rocked them in the darkness. The only light came from a dragon nightlight that Charlie had been so excited to install.

That moment, one moment of so many, seemed so long ago, and yet Draco could remember it with perfect clarity.

He couldn't help but wonder if it would be easier if he didn't remember quite so well. It took less than a second to decide that it wouldn't.

He wouldn't trade his memories of Charlie for anything.

Scorpius' grip on his shirt loosened as his sobs tapered off into even breathing. When Draco was sure he'd fallen back into a deep sleep, he lay his son back down on the bed, covered him with his quilt, and tucked his favourite teddy in beside him.

He looked down at the once more peaceful little boy and sighed. So much of Charlie looked back at him.

Draco was grateful that, no matter that he didn't have Charlie anymore, he still had a piece of him to hold onto.


Charlie looked nervous. Draco teased him relentlessly as the two of them got ready to go out.

"It's a boat ride," he said, tossing a scarf over to him. "You're not going to fall off, it's perfectly safe."

"Uh huh," Charlie agreed.

"Oh my god, you're as green as my scarf this is brilliant," Draco chortled.

Charlie shoved him out of the door playfully.

"I love you more than I ever loved anyone or anything in my entire life," Charlie was saying. Draco tried to listen, he really did, but his stomach was rolling unpleasantly. The boat was moving far more than Draco had expected. He watched as Charlie pulled a small box from his pocket. "Will you make me the happiest man on earth and be my -"

Draco leant over the side of the boat and vomited violently.

When he was done, he wiped his mouth weakly and grimaced at the taste in his mouth. Looking up at the grinning Charlie, who'd been soothingly rubbing his back, he said, "I ruined the moment, didn't I?"

"Nah. It was perfect."


A week after the funeral, Draco climbed into their bed for the first time. He'd been sleeping in the living room, if passing out with exhaustion occasionally qualified as sleep, and hadn't attempted to get into the bed that would surely feel too big for him alone.

He'd thought the pillows would smell like Charlie.

They didn't. Of course they didn't. Charlie had been away for three weeks when the news came, so of course they wouldn't smell of him.

Draco had expected them to smell of him.

The loss hit him once more, fresher and stronger than ever, and tears slid down his cheeks onto his own pillow before he even noticed he was crying.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream and cry and rage and shout and demand that someone, anyone, give him his husband back.

How dare they take Charlie away when Draco needed him?

Draco sobbed into his pillow, biting his lip to keep himself from being noisy, because Scorpius was sleeping in the next room and Draco would not hurt his son.

The tears finally stopped, yet the pain remained, sharp behind his ribs. Draco wondered if it would ever ease, if he would ever be able to think of Charlie without feeling like he was rubbing salt in an open wound.

He wondered, not for the first time, if he would have been able to bargain with Charlie to stop him going to Australia. He wondered if he'd asked Charlie to stay, if he'd still be here. He wondered if he'd been just a little more demanding, a little more needy, a little more clingy, if Charlie would be lying next to him in the bed, snoring even though he always swore he didn't, his red hair splayed out on the white pillow case.

Thoughts like that haunted his mind.

Could Draco have stopped Charlie from leaving for his trip?

Could Draco have saved his life?


Married life suited them, and yet, there was still something missing. They'd discussed children, of course, but never seriously. Both wanted kids, but beyond that, no discussion had been had.

"Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

"I… can we talk? I…" Draco trailed off, allowing Charlie to pull him down onto his knee in the wide armchair he favoured.

"What's up, babe?"

"I want kids."

"Are you sure about this?" Charlie asked for the fourth time that morning.

"Uh huh."

"I don't mind you going first, you know?"

Draco shook his head and leant over to kiss Charlie's cheek. "I want to hold your baby in my arms and know he's ours. Okay?"

Charlie smiled. "Okay."

Luna Lovegood smiled at them as she handed over the paperwork from the doctors. "Congratulations. I'm pregnant. You're going to be fathers."


The clothes lay in piles around the bedroom. The charity shop bags sat innocently on the dresser, mocking Draco who sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed.

Molly had suggested Draco clear some of Charlie's things out, give his clothes to the local charity shop because Charlie was a generous man and he'd have wanted someone else to be able to use his clothes since he couldn't.

The idea was sound.

Draco couldn't do it.

Packing the bags, packing Charlie's life away, packing Charlie away; it didn't sit right with him. He didn't want to pack Charlie away. He wanted to open the wardrobe and see Charlie's shirts mixed in with his own because Charlie was too lazy to separate them.

He wanted to see dirty socks littering the floor around the washing basket, because Charlie was a lot of things, but a good shot he was not.

He wanted to see a half full glass of water on Charlie's side of the bed, and a discarded book beside it.

He wanted to see Charlie's green tea in the kitchen so he could tease him about drinking a 'hippy drink'.

Draco wanted to not be packing his husband away into boxes to be discarded or left in the attic to rot.

Charlie deserved more than that.


Charlie watched with fond eyes as Draco sat by the window, their son in his arms. The baby boy was fast asleep, and Draco was looking up at the stars, deep in thought.

He approached them quietly, perching on the window ledge in front of Draco.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Draco smiled. "He's a mini-you. He's even more perfect than I could have ever imagined."

"Have you picked a name yet?"

"You realise that this is a joint decision, right?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes. "You get a say too, you know?"

"I just… I thought that maybe you'd want to continue your families constellation tradition?"

"You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not."

Draco nodded thoughtfully and looked down at the sleeping baby. "I think… I think I want to call him Scorpius then. Scorpius Arthur Weasley."

Charlie nodded slowly. "I… I like it."

Draco smiled up at him. "I love you."

"I love you too. We're a real family now, babe."

"We already were."


Draco sat in the rocking chair by the window with Scorpius on his knee. They'd just finished reading, and Draco was rocking gently, Scorpius leaning back against his chest.

"Is Papa watching us, Daddy?"

Draco nodded, stroking a hand through Scorpius' hair. "Of course he is. You see that star up there? The brightest one in the sky?"

"Uh huh."

"That's your Papa. He's looking down on you, and he always will, you know? He'll always be watching over you."

"How will I know which one is Papa?" Scorpius asked, worrying his lips. "There's lot of stars, Daddy."

"He'll be the brightest in the sky, always, of course," Draco replied. "Wherever you are, you just look up and whichever star is shining brightest; that'll be your Papa."

Scorpius nodded slowly, his eyes still trained on the star. A cloud drifted past it, and still Scorpius didn't move his gaze until the star came back into view.

"Come on, sweetheart. Time for bed."

Scorpius climbed down from Draco's knee and approached the window. He waved up at the star.

"Night-night, Papa."

Draco barely managed to hold his tear until he was closing the door softly behind him.


"Do you really have to go?" Draco whined, lying across Charlie's chest.

Charlie hesitated. "If you really don't want me to go, then I won't. I know a month is a long time."

Draco huffed. Why had he thought marrying a man with an obsession with mythical creatures was a good idea? When the supposed remains of a dragon had been found in Australia, Draco had known immediately that Charlie would want to go.

Never mind that they were almost definitely the remains of a dinosaur and not a bloody dragon.

"You know I would never stop you doing something you wanted to do," he muttered, burrowing in closer.

"I know but -"

"Nope. You want to go, you're going. You better fetch Scorp and I something pretty back though, or you'll be sleeping on the sofa when you get home."

"I'll write you a postcard," Charlie promised.

"I was thinking more diamonds to be honest."

(Charlie died in a small plane taking him to the site of the supposed dragon. The postcard Draco was expecting came in the form of condolences and questions about transporting the body home.)


Draco laid roses down on the gravestone. Scorpius ran around it, jumping into the leaf piles. He'd always loved the outdoors, and even today, he couldn't be kept still.

Not that Draco had tried very hard.

He didn't want his son to feel bad today. Draco thought that remembering the good times with his Papa was much better for him than dwelling on his death. Especially for one so young.

"I can't believe it's been a year," he murmured, running a hand over the weather worn stone. "A whole year without you. It still doesn't seem real. I still expect you to walk through the door."

He shook his head. "Scorpius is doing well, but I'm sure you know that. I'm sure you're watching over him, over us. He started school a few weeks ago. Little sod, he's already got himself a girlfriend. Proper charmer, just like his Papa."

Draco chuckled. "He's still so much like you. I look at him, and I see you in every part of him. In his eyes, his smile, his cheekiness. He's such a Weasley! Fred and George are teaching him mischief, which I'm sure you'll approve of. Not sure I do, but then, you were always the mischievous one, weren't you?"

"Daddy! Lookit!" Draco looked down to see Scorpius beside him, holding out an almost heart shaped pebble. "For Papa?"

"Sure, sweetheart. Why don't you put it there with the flowers?"

Scorpius crouched, carefully placing the pebble. "Love you, Papa," he said, grinning at the headstone.

Draco smiled down at his son and ruffled his messy red hair. "Are you ready to go, Scorp?"

"Gonna see Grandma Molly?"

"Yeah. Let's go see Grandma Molly."

Draco led Scorpius to the gates of the cemetery, listening to his excited chatter. For a second, he turned back, just making out the flowers on the ground.

I love you, Charlie.


Also Written For;

Character Appreciation - Father

Book Club - Big Mav - Father and Child / Powerful / Disappointment

Showtime - 7. Bargain

Ami's Audio - 1. Write about a widower

Sophie's Shelf - 5. Sparkles

Emy's Emporium - 10. Crisp

Angel's Arcade - 8. Dark / Roses / "I'll write you a postcard."

Bex's Basement - 12. "I ruined the moment, didn't I?"

Build a Zoo - Shark Enclosure - Biting / Sharp / Looking for something

Fantastic Beasts - 30. Banshee - Scream / 7. Argentina - Draco Malfoy

Princess Day - 9. Pocahontas - Loves the outdoors.

Autumn - Leaf pile

Element - Cloud

Dessert - Peppermint - "When did you get so tall?"