"How long has it been?"
"Years."
"I've missed you."
"I missed you too."
"You have children now?"
"Yes. Two. Hugo and Rose."
"With. Him?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry. If I had stayed. If I had stayed with you. If I didn't run away. I wouldn't-"
"It's not your fault."
"Yes it is."
"Stop. It's not your fault."
"But I left you. I left us."
"Maybe it was for the better."
"Maybe it wasn't."
"Do you still remember? Remember the times we had?"
"Yes."
"Do you still love me?"
"Yes."
"Did you love me then? Did you love me when you left me?"
"…..Yes."
"Did you love me when you married…her..?"
"Yes."
"Did you love me when I didn't love you?"
"Yes."
"I hate you."
"I know."
"I hate you for leaving me. I hate you for letting me fall for you. I hate you."
"I know."
"I hate you for not coming back. I wanted you to come back. I waited. I waited for you."
"I know. I know."
"You promised-"
"…."
…
"…"
….
"Hermione?"
…
"Hermione?!"
….
"Hermione?! NO! COME BACK! HERMIONE! I NEED YOU! COME BACK!"
…
"HERMION-"
"Draco! Draco! It was just a dream!"
He covered his ears, trying to drown out the shrieks and cries. This happened all too often. The same day each year; he would be woken up by the violent shouts and cries from his father.
He wondered. He wondered if he could help, so that he could make his father's crying stop, so that his father would stop tearing his family apart.
"Mummy?" He stepped into the room carefully, avoiding the broken pieces of glass.
"Scorpius… what are you doing here? Go back into your room."
"Mummy? Why does daddy cry? Why does daddy shout?" He asked, hoping this year he might get some answers.
"…Honey… Daddy isn't here right now.."
"But.. Daddy is right there…" He pointed to a downcast, barely breathing, shadow sat in the corner of the room.
"That's not your daddy. That's a ghost. A ghost of who your father used to be."
"What happened to the real him?" He asked, looking up at his mother.
"….."
"Daddy?" He looked back at the man he had known as his father.
"Shh… let him be… let's go back to sleep, hm?"
"Will it stop? Will Daddy stop crying?" He asked, hopeful.
"Yes. It'll stop tonight, I promise."
And again, the same night, every year; ended with empty promises.