Dedication: Written for Lexi, my wonderful Arrow teammate, and friend. Happy birthday, dear! I really, really, hope you enjoy this.

Prompts: (pairings) DracoAstoria & ScorpiusLily, (genres) romance, family, hurt/comfort, (objects) necklace, gift.

Thank you: All my love and thanks to the amazing AJ and Sam for looking this over and not running away. You both rock and I appreciate it so much!

...Astoria...

Draco meets Astoria somewhere in the burn of Firewhiskey down his throat and the hazes in his mind from the substances he inhales every day; when she stumbles in drunk out of her mind with everything but sanity on her lips.

And then he wakes up the next day with her curled against him in his bed, and he knows she's awake but she doesn't leave, just blinks at him sleepily and goes back to bed and he knows it's been a while (there's a Pansy-sized hole in his heart even though it's been ages and his fault) but he knows flings leave in the morning.

Still, there's something about waking up after a full night of sleep with another presence by your side, and she'll be gone soon. He knows it's his last chance (he so dreadfully lonely, being alone) so he doesn't dare move and lets her breaths lull him to sleep.

…Blood...

The thing is, he's not stupid. He knows exactly who she is when he wakes up. There aren't that many people with features that scream aristocracy and the way she holds herself, proud and a touch haughty, is so obviously recognizable.

She's Daphne Greengrass's little sister, a pureblood, and a spy for Dumbledore's Army. She fought on the complete opposite side from him but she's in his bed and he feels no push towards kicking her out.

It's not like either of them have parents who care. His dad's in jail for putting too much faith in a blood fanatic, his mom's trapped in the mansion for doing the opposite, and her parents fled the country and never came back.

A hysterical laugh bubbles in his throat, and he lets it spill.

...Cereal...

When he wakes up for the second time, she's no longer there, and he allows himself a bitter moment before he hears the ruckus in the kitchen and is out in a minute, throwing a robe on himself and rushing towards the noise.

She's still there, standing on the counter barefoot, as her nose crinkles. When she sees him, she smiles so softly it surprises him before jumping down.

"You don't have cereal," she says, surprised, and his mouth drops because she's still here.

"What's cereal?" he asks suspiciously, his mouth still open. self consciously, he wipes at it.

She gasps, grabbing his arm and pulling him out the door. "Let me show you what cereal is," she says and he lets her drag him, against all self preservation.

...Desperate…

He regrets going almost as soon as they arrive, his stomach still aching from the feeling of being dragged through a tunnel of cold air. He never liked apparition or Muggle stores.

"So," she begins and he stops for a second. He doesn't know her. He knows nothing about her other than the fact that she stayed over and likes a type of Muggle food.

"There are many types of cereal," Astoria continues. "Sugary, boring and the healthy type that makes you want to escape reality and die in a ditch."

Draco just gapes at her. When he recovers, he can't help but ask,"It's so bad it makes you want to kill yourself?"

Astoria laughs, winking at him. "Guess you'll have to find out yourself."

Something about her laugh is infectious and he laughs too. He has no muggle money but she does, and she follows him home with boxes of cereal and some weird thing called 'pizza.'

Astoria chatters, never shuts up, and it's strange and weird but he's almost happy and he's been desperate for something that been missing for so long.

...Embarrassment...

She stays over the rest of the week, and he doesn't understand any of it, how she always manages to have clothes and how she has no problem leaving behind a toothbrush in his home and why he never does kick her out.

"Why don't you go home?" he asks one day when she's softly napping on his couch, the sunlight drawing patterns on her freckles.

There's no trace of embarrassment in her voice when she says, "I don't have one."

He lets the topic drop after that.

...Flawless…

Astoria takes him to the pond and they skip stones and it's a Muggle thing, he knows, but what difference does it make when there's no one but her to care about his next step.

She gets one of those cheap photos from a disposable caption and then a picture frame (financed by her trust fund, according to her) and attaches it to his wall.

"Will you take that with you when you go?" Draco asks, staring blankly at it.

Astoria rolls her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

The picture stays and he has to admit (only at night when she's a warm presence beside him with no other soul in sight) that they look flawless in the photo. They look happy.

It honest-to-god scares him.

...Ghost...

He visits his father in prison and finds a man that's more bones than soul, who is withering away for the crimes he committed.

"He looks like a ghost," he tells Astoria that night and she frowns.

"Ghosts haunt you," she warns. "They never leave you alone."

Draco think of the images burned onto his eyelids and the way his mother waits to die in his childhood home.

"I know," he says and takes a swig of Firewhiskey. That night, Astoria doesn't stop it.

...History...

"My father used to teach history, you know," Astoria tells him one night out of nowhere.

It's been one of those bad nights, where he wakes up and his hands feel bloodstained, where she wakes up screaming the names of long-dead kids.

"Is that a good thing?" he asks and she shrugs.

"I don't think so," she says slowly. "I think I'd rather forget."

He agrees.

...Ignorance…

That day's news article has the words 'Granger to end house elf slavery with new laws' written on it.

Ignorance, he thinks, staring down at it. Completely destroying a culture because you didn't grow up in it and calling its traditions fucking slavery.

When he says that to Astoria, she glares at him. "It's not her that's ignorant if you think the way you treated them is anything but slavery."

Oh, he thinks, looking down at the article. Oh.

...July...

"It's July now," she says, staring out the window. The sunlight hurts his eyes but she's moved in completely now, and taken it up as her spot.

"Congratulations, Ria," he says mockingly, clutching the coffee she got him addicted to. "You learned the months of the year."

"July means its my birthday," she says softly.

He rolls his eyes again, throwing a box her. "I know."

She opens the box carefully, and gasps when she sees the emerald green necklace, moving over so he can fasten it around her neck.

"It's gorgeous, Draco," she says and his mouth goes dry at the sight of her in it. He's a goner.

"It's not the necklace," he says and leaves the room before she catches the meaning of his words.

...King...

"History has proven over and over that Queens make better rulers," Astoria reads from the pages of her muggle history book.

Draco swallows. He knows. He knows. He's seen her command a room and take over his house and if she asked, he'd give her an empire.

"Tell me something I don't know," he says shortly and she laughs, so bright and cheerful it almost hurts his soul.

He wishes he could be as good as her. He'd be the King to her Queen, as long as she stays.

...Lumos…

The thing is, he's seen the darkness devour people before during his whole life. That's why he needs her.

She's the light to his darkness, the girl who chases his demons away. Without her, he's damned. With her, he has the chance to be better.

"Lumos," she casts when it gets too late to read without magic and he wishes he could do the same to his soul.

...Mystery…

"So, Draco, who's the mystery girl?" Blaise asks when he drops by, lounging in a chair. Even when they were all locked up at the final battle, Blaise managed to lounge as if he was at home.

Draco thinks he may hate Blaise a little.

"Oh, Draco, am I a mystery?" Astoria calls from the doorway, grocery in her hands. "That's a new one."

As he unpacks the groceries, Astoria charms Blaise over with every word. He can see it in the way Blaise starts to look at him something like respect.

He's not even surprised.

….Noisy...

The world blurs as his head pounds and he falls to the floor, aching and shivering.

"What's wrong?" Astoria gasps when she finds him on the floor, screaming.

"It's noisy in my head," he says sardonically and he thinks she may understand that because she sings him to sleep that night and doesn't ask.

He wouldn't have an answer, anyways.

...Proud…

"I'm proud of you," she says one quiet night when they're curled up so tight he can feel her body heat. "I'm so, so proud."

"You're the only one," he tells her, and she laughs and gives him that look and -

"I'm the only one whose opinion matters."

It's true, though, and he feels like he's on top of the world for a moment.

...Quintessential…

"You're the quintessential pureblood," she notes from where she's perched on the kitchen table, watching him make breakfast. "Except for one thing."

He flips the pancake and it lands on the floor. He scowls at it.

"You're missing the right outfit," she says and he spares her an annoyed look for distracting him.

"Does what I wear matter that much to you?" he asks and she nods, dragging him away from the comfort of cooking and burning breakfast.

The worst part is she's right, because when he's dressed to the nines in the trendiest store on Diagon, he feels right at home.

"Wasn't I right?" she questions and he rolls his eyes and grumbles, but she accepts it for the thank you it is.

...Rainbow…

"I'm pregnant," she says quietly, clasping her hands together.

He can't do anything but gawk because he's not ready, he's a bloody disaster and who would want him as a father, but then he sees the look of fear on her face and he vows in that minute to be a better father then his ever was.

"He better not be the bloody human equivalent of sunshine like you are," Draco grumbles and her face splits in a smile, like a rainbow after the pouring rain.

"I love you, Draco," Astoria whispers and kisses him softly.

"I love you too," he says back and waits. No regrets.

He smiles back too then.

...Scorpius…

"How about procyon?" Draco suggests, hunched over the star book.

Astoria hoots, tossing her hair back in laughter. "Do you want your son to hate you?" she asks and Draco throws the book vaguely in her direction.

She tosses it back and unlike him, she doesn't miss. Draco winces as it hits his face.

"I want to call him Scorpius." Draco says firmly and she rolls her eyes.

"You're explaining why you cursed him with a name like that," she warns and he sighs.

Scorpius it is.

...Teamwork…

It takes fourteen hours, his broken hand, and a whole lot of screaming, but Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is born alive and healthy.

He's the first to hold him as Astoria relaxes on the Saint Mungo's hospital bed, staring happily at the two of them.

"Ready to be a parent?" she asks softly and he stares down at baby Scorpius's perfect face, free from any blemishes or pain. His son will not live through any wars.

"We'll get through it together," he says and she nods, squeezing his hand

"Teamwork," she states and he feels himself relax.

Together, they can get through anything.

...Unshakable...

Draco thinks he's doomed some days, when Astoria takes to parenting like a fish to water while he flounders.

"I suck at this," he moans one day and Astoria laughs.

"No you don't," she says firmly and it takes time but he begins to believe it. It's hard not to when her faith is unshakable.

He learns eventually too, how to feed Scorpius and his son's favourite toys and how to wake up, breathe, and do it all over again.

And he does.

...Violent…

Scorpius goes on an almost violent rampage in attempt to destroy the house upon turning three, fueled by a kids never ending energy and Astoria's never ending amusement.

Draco puts back together the furniture, summons pieces of glasses to keep Scorpius safe and far from harm, and manages to baby-proof a house, even when it means degrading himself enough to crawling around to find the dangerous places.

With every wave of a wand, it feels like he's putting his heart and soul together.

...Whimsical…

Scorpius is a natural in singing, learning all his mother's whimsical lullabies and ridiculous pop songs in a single try. Draco rolls his eyes and teases both of them endlessly for it, but there's no sound better then when their voices blend together.

It feels like family. It sounds like home.

...Xenophobia…

"Daddy, why did the Death Eaters want to hurt people so much?" Scorpius asks innocently, scaling Draco's lap to sit in it.

Draco swallows and wishes Scorpius went to Astoria for this, who kisses his cheek and leaves to give her husband and son space.

"They were afraid," Draco began, thinking of his past. He had been a coward. Some days, he still was. "They feared people not like them."

"You were one of them," Scorpius states. The glass in Draco's hand shatters.

...Yellow…

Scorpius's hair isnt blonde like his is. It's darker, a shade of yellow. They may look alike but there are differences that Draco can not even begin to describe. This is the main one:

Scorpius forgives his father. Draco cannot forgive himself.

...Zero…

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy," Scorpius's girlfriend says, reaching over to shake his hand. She's a Potter, with red hair like fire and green eyes so vivid they seem emerald.

"Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one...zero," Draco counts down in his head, takes a deep breathe, and steels himself.

"Hello, Lily Potter," he says and Scorpius looks so happy that Draco wants to laugh out of pure joy. Astoria takes his hand and Lily talks about something or the other and Scorpius listens so keenly and-

He, Draco Malfoy out of all people, has a family now.