Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape or form. That belongs to JKR and co.

24:00:00

You wake up from your afternoon nap, sensing that something bad has happened. It's an instinct that had served you well in your fifth year from hell, and it's an instinct you trusts with your life. So why does it sense that you will die in a few hours? No, it can't be right. You checks the clock. 4:00 PM. Draco's not working for an hour, and after 5:00, it's not safe for you to go down. You've been pregnant for more than seven months, and you're not risking a miscarriage. So why do you feel like your water's going to break in the next twenty four hours?

23:29:35

You debate whether it (the instinct) is right for god knows how long, then get dressed and goes downstairs. Draco's done cleaning up the bar counter, and is staring at his left arm. again. You go down, and observe that the dark mark seems to be bleeding. It seems to her that Draco had accidentally dropped a beer mug on it. Draco, on the other hand, is staring at it. You feel like sighing. It's only been a few months after his release and he still hadn't gotten over the anger of the injustice, the anger started from a mistake he regrets. You know he never will get over it. The injustice of it- eight years of hell in Azkaban for a crime he never committed, and no response from the ministry-just a "paper decree of worthless apologies from a corrupt ministry." You kiss him on the cheek, and start talking. It's the only tactic that stops the onslaught of darkness. Distraction. He listens because he fears that darkness, because it is the Black family madness, and he knows all too well what happens if it takes over. The first thing you think of is names. Suddenly, it's the most important thing for you- like if you don't decide on this now, you'll never get the chance to. It's irrational, but you're Astoria Greengrass, Gryffindor prefect and head girl, blood traitor. You're known for your impulsiveness, and you know it.

23:01:05

You and Draco agree on naming your son after Black family tradition. Draco may have shunned himself from the land of his roots, but for him,the traditions of it are stuck in stone-an inescapable shadow of the past he avoids at all cost. He likes Scorpius, but you hate it. You still agree to it, on the condition that your father's name is used as a middle name. When your son is born he will be christened Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, and god you hate that name. But it's final, and you find that you don't care. It's a mix of Black, Malfoy and Greengrass, and for Draco, you know that it will be an inescapable reminder of the past he wishes to escape. For Draco, the name will be an inescapable reminder of the world he lost faith in, and the one he gave up, exchanging it for mixing and serving alcoholic drinks for muggles in a shady muggle pub. It's close to opening time, so you head upstairs and start on your article about Death Eaters and where they are now. It's nothing short of irony and you know it.

21:30:58

You finish your article, and floo to Ginny's house for dinner. You watch a seven year old metamorphagus come with a pink haired Narcissa Malfoy (Draco's former mother but he cut all ties with the wizarding world when he left Azkaban, and you know that regardless of what happens, he will never go back.) and Andromeda Tonks. Mrs Malfoy looked aged, weary, but resigned to the fact her son will never come back to her. You wonder how'd she react if you told her the truth-happy? joyous? No time to ponder, Molly is serving dinner now. You join in on the laughter, the jokes, and ignore the questions about the father of your child. You describe Draco, but give no names. The wound of the war are too fresh, to newly healed to make it worth mentioning.

18:58:37

You got carried away with the Weasley's and overstay. You play with Teddy Lupin like if you don't you'll never get another chance to. The instinct, you decide, is absolutely right. So, if you're going to die, you might as well enjoy life while you still can. You floo back to The Phoenix (oh, Draco had loved the irony. You could see why, but refrain from commenting that The Phoenix is the total opposite of what'd you expect-it's shady and dark and alluring, and just like Draco.), and decide to go to bed early.

10:45:32

You wake up, and wake Draco up as well. He complains that he normally sleeps till noon, that he only slept for one hour. You proceed to tell him about his mother's bubblegum pink hair. That George Weasley had convinced a four year old Teddy Lupin to put permanent hair dye in his mother's shampoo. Draco starts laughing and only then do you see the man you'd fell in love with in your sixth year (his repeat of his seventh year). The vulnerable, hurt soul that treasured you above anything else in the world, the man whose side you'd never left, the one that considered you the only thing in the world worth living for. You begin to crave chocolate, and then convince him to go to the local grocery market to buy lots and lots of chocolate.

10:36:57

Draco comes back with a bag full of chocolate. You satisfy your craving with two boxes of Cadbury chocolate eggs. He then goes back to sleep, and start to prepare your clothes for work. You grab your article and floo to the office of The Daily Prophet. You're earlier than usual, so your start to clean out six years of ruined parchment, doodles, pictures, failed attempts of reconciliation with Daphne, letters to Daphne you never sent, among other things.

07:34:59

You finish organizing your desk and then think of distracting Ginny from doing her work, but Gin's on maternity leave, so you go find Dennis Creevey instead. He's free for fifteen minutes so he chats to you for ten-he has a photo shoot to attend to. You decide to return to The Phoenix, to see if you can get Draco to wake up. It's been only what? a few hours? After all, you've done all the work that's required of you, so you're free to go. You floo back, and find him obsessively cleaning the bar surface again. He tells you that he wasn't able to sleep after you woke him up, but you know better. His eyes tell a different story-he had a nightmare again, and likely it was Dumbledore's death. You know because, he'd always do the same thing after that particular nightmare.

07:31:47

Your water breaks. Your water breaks and Draco does the only thing he can think of- not freaking out like a beheaded chicken and apparating you to St. Mungo's.

02:25:19

You wake up, feeling faint headed, and suddenly the instinct is back. It tells you that you're leaving your newborn son and his father very very soon, that now is your chance to say your last goodbyes. You're scared, because you're young-only twenty four, and you're scared to say those goodbye's, because Goodbye is final. Goodbye is seeing the bodies of your two male (only) best friends on May 2nd, 1998. Goodbye is the frayed relationship of you and Daphne, and you're scared. You're scared because there is no warmth in goodbye, only coldness, like the cold cold cold bodies of Evan and Jonah Davis, the best friends who'd stuck with you through everything. Goodbye is what you never wanted with Draco, or baby Scorp, or Gin, or Dennis, or anyone. But, like it or not, this is goodbye, and honey you're never going to be ready for goodbye. You are vaguely aware when Draco comes in, or when the doctors put baby Scorp in your arms. You never know that this will be the only family picture of the three of you, together. For once, Draco is the one talking, filling up the space, instead of you. He is scared of losing you, because you are his one saving grace, his only redemption, and you can't leave. But the thing with life is that you never know when it's going to end, because, death runs by it's own clock, and that is the clock the fates follow. Your time is up, it's up. No extensions, no encore. The Final Judgement doesn't occur at your death, it occurs every day. And honey, you not ready. And frankly, you're never going to be ready for Final Judgement.

00:15:19

You had fallen asleep for a brief while, and had seen yourself staring at an island across a bay. On the island, you can vaguely see the dead celebrating through the heavy fog. Then the Jonah and Evan forcing you to wakeup, telling you, "Tor, you've got fifteen minutes left-don't waste them." You open your eyes and see Draco holding your son, and hear him talking-"Look Scorp- I'm probably going to be a crap father, so if you end up being a wanker, you can blame it all on me. I've made mistakes I'll regret for the rest of my life, but you, you're completely innocent. But in eleven years, you'll probably be punished for my mistakes, and you'll probably be mad at me for those mistakes, as well as not making up with my parents, but until then I'll protect you from that world, so no worries. No worries. I love you, for now and forever." You do nothing but weakly grasp Draco's hand. He hands you Scorp, and only then do you realize just how innocent and small he looks. He's an innocent child born to crap parents who never expected him, and he only smiles at you and Draco. He's going to be Draco's new saving grace, because in fifteen or so minutes, you're leaving and never ever coming back. You can see the fog lessening, the golden gates opening, a boat coming towards you. You know the minute the boat reaches you, you're gone, gone gone gone gone gone and never coming back. You smile and close your eyes, because you have two boys now, and you know that they're going to be okay with each other. You realize this is a trade off, the final consequence of his mistakes and regrets- a life for a life. Yours for Scorp's, and only then do you understand why Lily Potter had sacrificed herself for her son that day-because a mother's love is genuine, pure and beautiful. A mother's love means giving yourself up for your child's. The boat inches closer to your side of shore, and it's getting closer and closer, and your final image of the living is your two boys-the two boys you love more than anything in the world.

00:00:00

You close your eyes for the last time, and climb onto the boat. It brings you to the island of the dead, and around you, the fog gets denser and denser, until you lose all sight of shore. Goodbye has never felt so final, so permanent. Goodbye has never been this painful, this painstakingly tragic. Because you're Astoria Greengrass, Gryffindor prefect and head girl, bloodtraitor, impulsive, and now you're dead.

AN: Published on ao3 May 2015, written before that. Please Read and Review! :D