Prologue:

The air smelled distinctly of roses and cinnamon. The warm June breeze ruffled the edges of the extravagant tent, but not a single smiling face in the room noticed. No mouth but the priest's was moving, but every other mouth was stretched into a wide smile. For many, this had been a day long coming. For the others, they couldn't help but keep their pleasant surprise from showing.

'Do you, Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley, take Ms. Hermione Jean Granger as your lawfully wedded wife?'
He had never worn a brighter smile than he did when he said 'I do.'

'And do you, Miss Hermione Jean Granger, take Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley to be your lawfully wedded husband?'
'I do,' she said with a smile equally bright.

'If there be anyone present who sees a reason these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.'

The room stayed silent for a few moments before the priest spoke again.
'Well then by the power vested in me-'

Draco didn't hear the rest. He didn't want to. His legs carried him away swiftly and quietly. There remained no trace that he had been there. It was too late.

Fifteen years later

'Daddy, what's a Mudblood?'

Draco's head shot up quickly at his son's voice. He had not heard his approaching footsteps, but his question rung in his ears. He felt an intense stab of guilt and remorse inside him.

'Where did you hear that word?'

'I found one of grand dad's old journals. He said you were going to go to school with Mudbloods.'

His son's large eyes looked inquiringly at him and Draco heaved a great sigh. Draco got out of his chair and walked over to Scorpius. Young Scorpius who didn't know the cruelty of the world yet. Draco got down on his knees and pulled his son into a hug.

'But Daddy, you still haven't answered my question,' Scorpius said into his father's hair.

Draco pulled away from his son's embrace and put his hands on his shoulders.

'That word is a foul word in our world. A foul, awful word for someone who is muggle born. Some people believe that if you are not born from a wizard family, you're not as good as those who are. And that word should never be used here.'

Scorpius nodded a little to show he understood but a question still burned in his eyes. Less than eager to continue the conversation, Draco stood up and ruffled his son's hair as he said 'Come on buddy. Why don't we go play Quidditch?'

Scorpius jumped a little with delight and started toward the door before turning to his father with one more question. 'Does it make a difference, dad?' he asked. 'Being muggle born?'

'No,' he said without hesitation.

Accepting his father's words, Scorpius raced out of the room for his toy broom. Draco trailed behind him, perhaps quieter than usual.