His eyes have been closed for what it feels like hours.
The dwindling fire keeps the warmth comfortable and the blend of heavy snores emitted from the little body dozing between them and the rain outside soothes them both, allows them to pretend nothing could trouble them. He tightens the grip he has on her hand when thoughts of their impending future break through his walls.
"We can't keep him."
He's keeping his eyes shut in a desperate attempt of prolonging tomorrow just a little longer. The delay means extra precious minutes with the infant until they have to let him go, and letting go of him will mean Draco letting go of the woman speaking and he doesn't know if he could.
He'll keep his eyes shut forever then.
She's wrong anyway, they could do it.
He knows it was hard, there was no denying that. She would be ostracized by everyone she'd ever loved, could lose her job in the MLE department for associating with criminals, there would whispering and gossip mongers forever in her wake. He would be luckier, he would be disowned but he knows this would only be temporary while his parents consoled themselves over the lose of blood purity within the family and then realized that he was their only heir.
(Draco is sure Lucius would rather live in Muggle London for the rest of eternity than to leave everything to Potter.)
He can picture the public's reaction, the Prophet's smear campaigns, but he knew deep inside he was willing to face it all if it meant keeping the two that occupied his bed
They could be happy, the Malfoy family; happy and loving without a single knut to their name.
"We can't, Draco, I know you think we can, but we can't."
Her voice sounds so... defeated.
He hates it, he resents her for it. She's a Griffydor for Merlin's sake! They aren't ever suppose to give up.
The thought of never being like this with them ever again is unimaginable.
He knows if he does what he's been told he'll have more children, good pureblood children, it is after all the reasoning behind his father's orders, but he doubts he could love them as much as he loves the little one she has given him; the little one, society and it's traditions would tear away from them.
She's on the verge of tears and her tears bring forth his own.
"They'll tear us apart. Can imagine what it would be like for him? He'll grow up with taunts from both sides, he'll be a filthy half-blood to one and dirty Death Eater spawn to the other."
It may sound selfish, he never claimed to be anything other than self centred after all, but he doesn't care. The child is a Malfoy, but most importantly he is her son. He would be resilient, the words of others wouldn't compare to the love of his parents and he would always know love in it's most strongest, potent, gorgeous form.
Her next words were small and he could feel the heartbreak in them.
"I will always love you. And while his name won't be Scorpius Draco Malfoy and we won't be able to hear his first words or see his first steps, or witness first signs of magic, and he'll never call me-
Her voice broke, her throat constricted and the only noises escaping were both unintelligible and strangled.
"He'll never call me Mama or you, Papa-"
She was crying now, he along with her while their son whimpered softly in his sleep.
"But, he'll always love you."
He didn't want any of those things.
This was their son! This was Scorpius Malfoy!
He deserved to grow up knowing that the couple he spoke his first words to and took his first steps in front of were his parents through both, blood and love.
He should be able to say in a few years time, that it was his father, Draco Malfoy, who taught him how to ride a broom and that the woman he had inherited his love of books and the woman who read him his bedtime stories (so many times she could recite each and every one of them) was one in the same.
Draco wants that more than anything in the world.
She was still crying.
He knows what she needs.
Or, at least, he knows what she thinks she needs.
He knows she hasn't even entertained the thought of keeping him, he knows if she had there would be no debate, but unfortunately the mother of his child is stubborn and disappointing those who wish to see her play out a fairy tale fantasy with Weasley is not an option. Because as much as she is strong and assertive, as much as she is kind and loving, she will always be self-sacrificing.
She needs him to agree to her wishes, needs him to let her give him up without a fight and maybe she's right, maybe it's right. Maybe their child wouldn't face adversity if he wasn't theirs. Maybe it would be right of them to give him a fresh slate, one unmarred by the sins of his father and the blood of his mother. Maybe it's right, perhaps he should, she would marry Weasley and have more children, he would marry Astoria and have an heir and the child in question would be able to grow up without his right to magic being questioned.
He knows he should.
But Draco Malfoy would never be a selfless man. He doesn't know he if can.
"Draco."
He opens his eyes.
This is longer than I intended it to but I like how it came out. I suppose this could serve as a prequel to my other Dramione fic but if you'd like to think that Draco convinced her to keep him then you'd want to disregard, "The Right Woman."
Thank you for reading.