A/N - Yep, I'm back with another Scorbus fic! This is another story that has been a long time in the making, and one I am very excited to post at last! This story was originally inspired by the song Against the Night, specifically the line "I still don't understand why, out of everyone in the world, it had to be you and me". This fic continues the little tradition of mine of naming each chapter after a song, with the lines from the song contributing to the mood and feel of the chapter. The prologue is named after the song Origins by Tennis. I can't wait to hear what you guys think, and I look forward to reading your reviews!

Prologue – Origins

"How much is required to set things right?"

May 2nd, 2005

The morning of the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts dawned dark and dreary, almost as if to match the moods of those attending the memorial service. The Great Lake was a flat, dull sheet of grey, broken up only by the fat, freezing raindrops falling from the sky. The usual harsh beauty of the Scottish Highlands that usually surrounded the castle was masked by a thick layer of fog. If anybody was outside in that weather, it was only because they felt like they had to be.

The memorial service, originally intended to be a celebration of the lives lost and the sacrifices made, had quickly become a sombre affair for those who weren't quite ready to let go of the past. For some, returning to Hogwarts was simply too painful to bear, and nobody could blame them. Numbers had dwindled with each passing year, until on this miserable May morning only a handful of figures dressed in black stood huddled together, facing away from the castle as they watched the distant trees of the Forbidden Forest in silent contemplation.

A man and a woman stood a little apart from the crowd, and people eyed them warily, casting furtive glances their way, but the couple stood straight-faced and stoic. The man was Draco Malfoy, still quite an imposing figure, his pale hair and skin contrasting to his black, neatly tailored suit. His sharp features were as unreadable as ever, though there was something off about his posture, something that gave away his discomfort.

His wife's features were softer, almost serene, as she glanced at him and squeezed his hand, sensing his anxiety. Her other hand lay gently, almost unconsciously, across her stomach, as she had recently learned that she was pregnant. She thought of her husband beaming with pride when she had told him the news, and knew that nobody present would be able to picture him like that, the way he was now. She still remembered him from his Hogwarts days, all snide looks and sneers, but he wasn't that man anymore. The war had changed them all.

The vigil was short, and solemn. When it was over, the crowd scattered slightly, and conversations began to start up. The teachers nodded to their former pupils and headed back to the castle without another word. Draco and Astoria, as always, turned to follow them, more than ready to floo back to Malfoy Manor, now eerily empty, but beginning to fill with life and warmth again, thanks to Astoria's presence.

"Astoria! I was wondering if you'd be here." A voice full of forced brightness cut through the gloom of the day. Turning back, Astoria couldn't help but smile at the sight of Ginny Potter and the toddler hovering around her, grasping at the hem of her dress. Draco and Harry, as always, ignored each other pointedly, and Astoria couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Her friendship with Ginny was a fragile, precarious thing, but she was truly relieved to see the other woman standing there, an equally sardonic look on her face as her own husband stepped away to give his condolences to the others, his lips in a tight line. Astoria caught a glimpse of the faded lightning bolt scar on his forehead and couldn't help but wince at what it meant.

They had met one day at Madame Malkin's, quite by chance, and had begun talking as her young son threw a monstrous tantrum at her feet. She knew that Astoria had married Draco Malfoy and, refreshingly, she accepted it. She had talked to her as she would have to any other woman her age, and Astoria, more used to glares or whispered comments, had invited her and her son to go for tea with her at a little café on Diagon Alley.

Astoria was just about to ask Ginny how little James Potter was getting along, and was excited to inform the other woman of her own pregnancy, when a shriek rang through the air. Everyone turned to see a figure racing down towards them from the castle, long hair streaming along behind them. As the figure materialised fully from the fog, Astoria recognised Professor Trelawney, who still spent her days haunting the stuffy Divination tower and arguing with Firenze.

The older woman, her mass of hair now streaked liberally with grey, stopped in front of the two women, breathing hard. Ginny glanced at Astoria, frowning, as Professor Trelawney fell to her knees and began to speak in a haunting voice that certainly wasn't her own:

"As two worlds collide,

The need becomes dire,

For one forged in ice,

And the other, fire,

Together to make,

Apart to break,

Love is what is needed,

To right their mistake."

Trelawney stopped, frozen, her eyes completely vacant. Then, without warning, she shook her head and clambered back to her feet with some difficulty, grasping onto Ginny's shoulder to steady herself. She blinked once, twice, and suddenly she was herself again.

"Oh, hello dears," She said, her eyes wide through her spectacles. Glancing at Ginny, she said "And congratulations on your pregnancy, you and Harry must be so excited."

With that, she turned and headed back to the castle as if nothing were amiss. Soon she had been enveloped by the fog, leaving the two women dumbfounded.

"I'm not pregnant..." Ginny said, frowning. She shook her head.

"I am..." Astoria admitted, putting her hand across her stomach once more, "I only found out last week."

"Oh, congratulations!" Ginny smiled warmly, sounding genuinely happy, "Perhaps she just misread her tea leaves..."

"That must be it," Astoria agreed, feeling somewhat uneasy. Perhaps it was just morning sickness, but something about the woman's words had the ring of a legitimate prophecy to it, and there was something terrifying about that.

"Anyway, Harry and I had better be off, James is due a nap," She glanced back at her husband before noticing the discomfort on Astoria's face, "I'd ignore Trelawney if I were you, the only decent prophecy she ever made was years ago, and that was about my Harry."

"You're right, of course," Astoria nodded, pushing away all thoughts of the Divination professor's words and wondering where Draco had gotten to, "I hope to see you soon."

"You too," Ginny beamed, wrapping her in a quick one-armed hug, before rushing off to where Harry stood surrounded by fellow Hogwarts alumni, James dragging his feet behind her. Astoria watched them for a few seconds, her heart warmed by their small and perfect little family, glad that Harry Potter had seemed to find peace after the war, and hoping that the same would one day be possible for her own husband.

"Come on, let's head home," Astoria said once she had located her husband and had threaded her arm through his. She knew this day would be hard for him, and she intended to provide whatever comfort and support he needed. They headed back towards the castle to take the floo home, and away from Hogwarts for another year. She knew they would be back next year, and every year, until Draco felt he had made things right at last.

December 22nd, 2005

Astoria Malfoy closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, savouring the scents and sensations of the fantastically cold winter's day. She had been standing in the garden of Malfoy Manor for some time now, even though being on her feet for more than ten minutes at a time had been becoming increasingly uncomfortable over the past few months, as her belly had swelled and the life inside of her had continued to grow.

"Astoria, love, why don't you come inside? It's freezing out here." Draco appeared in the doorway, wrapped up in layers of jumpers and fleeces. As a wizard, he could of course warm himself up with magic, but he and Astoria had decided long ago not to become too reliant on magic, and on this freezing day, the house was frigid, and the garden outside was blisteringly cold.

"It's lovely out here," She said with a smile, opening her eyes and taking in the beautiful but desolate winter landscape that surrounded the grounds of the manor. Everything was white, from the snow that blanketed the fields and trees, to the pale winter sky, the sun watery and barely visible through the cloud.

"If you insist," He said, laughing softly as he put his arms around her. Astoria wished more people could see this Draco, not the stone-faced man who had appeared at his father's trial and hadn't shed a tear as his father was sent away to Azkaban, nor the reserved figure who stood apart from the crowd at the Battle of Hogwarts memorial each year. Those were perhaps the only times he had been seen in public since the battle itself, yet still there were those who would hurl abuse Astoria's way when she was visiting Diagon Alley.

Putting her hand on her stomach, she had to hope that the world her child inhabited would be a different, more accepting place. She knew there would be difficulties for them, and obstacles to overcome, but if things weren't going to be better, why should she be bringing a life into this world at all?

With that thought, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She gasped and leaned into Draco, struggling to keep upright. The cold was potent now, almost as biting as the pain itself, though the weather seemed secondary now. She sensed her husband tense next to her, his panic mirroring hers acutely.

She had known the baby was due – the midwives she had seen at the Muggle hospital she and Draco had been to had told her so – but nothing could have prepared her for this. Indeed, they were going to have the baby at a Muggle hospital, all being well. She and Draco had been actively trying to spend more time in the Muggle world, and while it had been strange and bewildering at first, she couldn't help but appreciate their ingenuity, and knew that she was challenging her long-held prejudices at the same time.

"Merlin's beard," Draco muttered, steering his wife inside and onto a chaise longue, where it was marginally warmer. Still early in the day, the fireplace hadn't yet been stoked, and Astoria wasn't sure whether she was shivering, or if it was just the effect of her next contraction.

With trembling fingers, Draco phoned for an ambulance, raising his voice just to be certain the operator could hear him. By the time Draco had managed to convey the location of Malfoy Manor, nestled in amongst fields and villages so small as to be all but insignificant, Astoria's contractions were coming closer and closer together, and she was struggling to keep calm against the pain and the worry.

Draco paced the room in between holding Astoria's hand, reassuring her in his gentlest voice, and frantically phoning the ambulance service to make sure the ambulance was on its way. Astoria wasn't sure the baby could wait much longer, but thankfully she and Draco had made sure to read up on what to do in such a situation, and they prepared as best they could.

In fact, by the time the paramedics arrived, they were almost too late. She was already pushing, and within moments of their arrival she had her son in her arms, so tiny and warm and screaming his little lungs out. She sobbed with relief as she held him, unaware of everything else but her perfect, beautiful child.

"Hello, little one," She whispered as her son gripped onto her finger with one unbelievably strong and tiny fist. The paramedics had already left, having ascertained that both mother and child were in perfect health. In the hearth, a fire was beginning to blaze merrily, and Astoria was beginning to feel drowsy and warm. There was just the three of them, their small and lovely family.

"Our little Scorpius Hyperion" Draco added, staring at his son with a mix of awe and wonder. Astoria had relented when her husband insisted he name his son in the family tradition, knowing how much it meant to him. While the world was being forged anew, their son would be a small link to the past, a way of ensuring their legacy would never be forgotten, for all its former ugliness.

And so Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born, forged in ice, a connection to which would never be forgotten.

Ginny Potter sat snuggled up on the sofa, a blanket draped over her and the sleeping form of her son. She smiled lovingly down at him, then at the rounded shape of her stomach. Trelawney had been right, she mused, and that thought worried her almost half to death, because that meant that perhaps those strange words she had spoken in that disconnected voice, the words Ginny had been unable to get out of her mind, were correct, and something was rising all over again.

"Come on, James, time for bed," Harry appeared at the door, looking fondly at his wife and child as always. James sat up, groggily, his face splitting into a wide grin as he saw his father. Harry walked over to the sofa, sweeping his son up in his arms.

With the snow falling outside, and the fireplace blazing with warmth and light, Ginny couldn't help but think that her life truly was picture perfect. After the horrors of the war, and the things it had done to them all, it was wonderful to see her life falling perfectly into place. Both she and her husband had their dream jobs, and their perfect little family would soon be growing once again. They had a lovely little home in Godric's Hollow, tucked away in the small village. Outside, church bells began to ring, and she was sure she could hear the harmonious voices of carol singers in the darkness.

"I think I might just stay here," Ginny said, yawning widely. She had been dozing on and off for the past few hours, a book lying discarded just in front of the fireplace.

"Remember to turn the fire down," Harry reminded her, kissing her gently on the top of her head as James fidgeted in his arms. She nodded, already feeling herself begin to nod off once again. She sensed Harry leaving the room, and heard the door close with a soft thud, and gladly she drifted off completely.

Ginny was jolted awake an indeterminable amount of time later by an intense heat all down one side of her body. She grumbled at the sensation, and at the bright lights that flared in front of her vision. As the heat began to grow distinctly uncomfortable, she opened her eyes, and immediately bit back a scream.

The room was on fire.

Panic washed through her like a wave, drowning out all rational thought and logic. She jumped to her feet, searching swiftly through her blankets for her wand, but it was nowhere to be found.

The fire was growing, spreading, edging across the carpet at a speed that Ginny could hardly believed. She stepped back, a scream rising in her throat even as the smoke began to choke her. Suddenly, pain shot through her lower abdomen, and she knew immediately that she was going into early labour.

"No, no, no," She moaned, unable to move, unable to think, the fire encompassing all thought and vision. The fire brought back flashes of memory from another time, of a castle destroyed and of friends injured and dying, and panic surged through her once more, "not again, this can't be happening again."

"Aguamenti!" A strong, familiar voice called out. In no time at all, the fire began to die down, its roaring replaced by the sizzling of steam as water flowed from her husband's wand. She fell to her knees in relief even as the overwhelming pain of another contraction hit her with full force. As the fire at last faded, and the room became dim and dark, Harry was there, his arms wrapped around her, whispering soothing words in her ear.

"I'm sorry," She sobbed, sagging against him, "I should have known what to do, I should have –"

She groaned as her body was wracked by another contraction, clutching at her stomach. They were too close together, and it was too soon. Guilt threatened to consume her; this was all her fault, if she had just put out the fire, if she hadn't panicked, if her wand had been at hand –

"It's okay, Ginny," Harry reassured her, "none of this is your fault."

He knew her too well, and Ginny found at that moment that she didn't mind. He knew just the right thing to say.

"Come on, let's get you someplace safe, someplace quiet." Harry pulled her gently to her feet, "James is fine, he's still fast asleep, miraculously."

They headed out of the room, and Harry guided her to their bedroom, where she collapsed onto the bed, panting with the very effort of it and resisting that instinctive urge to push, aware that it was too soon, it was far too soon. But no – this was happening, and it was happening now. She had done it before, and she could do it again, even under such terrible and extraordinary circumstances.

Thankfully, she and Harry had been to several classes at St. Mungo's, and they knew what to do. Harry held her hand and helped to ease the pain with an extremely useful spell, and she began to push. James had been born at home, and it was looking like her next child would be too, without the help of a Mediwitch.

The labour was swift, no doubt helped by the extreme panic that had begun it in the first place, and whilst it was of course a struggle, she soon held her newborn son tightly in her arms, smiling up at her husband as he wiped a tear from his cheek. He was perfect, tiny as he was, with a shock of thick, dark hair already. She and Harry had discussed names, and she knew they had chosen the perfect one.

"Albus Severus," She whispered, "it's lovely to meet you, even if you were a little impatient."

Beside her, Harry laughed, and stroked his newest son's soft, downey cheek. James appeared in the doorway, blinking, and hurried over to meet his new sibling. It was all okay.

And so, Albus Severus Potter was born, forged in fire, which in time would come to shape his life.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to favourite or follow, and to let me know what you thought! I've already written the first chapter, so it should be out soon.

Next time: It's Scorpius and Albus' 17th birthday, and their parents have something to tell them.