A/N: This chapter is for ryoku1 who wanted to see more of Draco, and for DesireeBoils who first got me thinking about Scorpius's mother. My thanks to you both, and to everyone who has been reviewing. I hope that Draco doesn't come across as too out of character here--keep in mind that people often reveal things that they wouldn't otherwise do when they can't see each other's faces, especially when they're half asleep. Cinnamon.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and the Harry Potter universe belong entirely to JKR.
Serenity
Draco jerked abruptly upright, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he tried to re-orient himself to his surroundings.
"Just a nightmare," he whispered. "Just another bloody nightmare."
His eyes squeezed shut, and he drew another shaky breath, his heart-rate gradually slowing. It had been five months since Serenity's death, and he had convinced himself that the lack of nightmares over the last few weeks had indicated that he was recovering from it.
Apparently he had been wrong.
The nightmare was already fading, but a faint echo of that dream remained; a horrifying image of Scorpius's blood-covered face twisted in agony. It was a grotesque meld of his memories of the second war and his more recent memories of Serenity's gruesome and still unaccountable death, along with his own terrifying conviction that it had somehow been his fault, and that Scorpius would be snatched from him too.
As he emerged into full consciousness even that image faded, leaving behind it a pressing desire to ensure that his son was unharmed. Impatiently shoving the tangled bedclothes onto the floor he got to his feet and headed for the door, pausing for a moment to shrug his way into his dressing gown. For all that it was summertime, the night was still chilly.
-x-
Albus stirred slightly, wondering what had woken him. A scuffing noise from the direction of the door alerted him, and he realised that his dad must have had another nightmare.
Apparently the war had left scars other than the one that marred his forehead. His father had never revealed the contents of those nightmares, and Albus had never asked him to. It had been twenty-four years since the war had ended, and after that amount of time, he doubted that there was anything that he or anyone could do to stop them. Although now that he thought of it, it had actually been quite a while since the last one...
Albus lay very still, expecting him to move on to check on Jamie and then Lily as well, as he usually did, not wanting his father to realise that he had woken him. When there was no further movement he rolled again, this time in the direction of the doorway. The window curtains were parted in the centre, illuminating a large swathe towards the foot of the bed, but leaving the doorway and Albus himself in complete shadow. Despite this he could faintly make out the outline of a man still silhouetted against the doorway.
"Dad, what's the matter?" he asked sleepily. "Did you have another nightmare?"
"Sorry, Scor, I didn't mean to wake you."
Huh? Oh! Oh, shit!
"You knew I'd been having nightmares?" Draco asked, a slight frown in his voice.
Albus shrugged, still cursing inwardly, then realised that he would have to do better than that since Draco couldn't see him.
"I suspected," he said noncommittally.
Draco sighed deeply, moving to sit in the swathe of light at the foot of the bed. Albus inwardly cheered his own good fortune as he realised just how...interesting...this midnight stroll of Draco's could have become if the pillow had been at the other end of the bed.
-x-
Draco sighed, moving to sit on the foot of Scorpius's bed. Of course he would have suspected. Even if the two of them had never been particularly close, it was still not something that was easy to hide from someone who shared a house with you. Although this was the first nightmare he'd had since his return...
Draco shook his head to dismiss the irrelevant though. None of that mattered.
"Would talking about it help?" he heard Scor ask hesitantly, and for the umpteenth time since the holidays had started Draco found himself startled by how much better he had become at dealing with the emotions of others. He used to cope with such things by simply withdrawing further and further behind the Malfoy Mask, as his grandfather—Draco's father—would have done, and as Draco himself too often did.
He was trying to fix that, though, he really was. Since Serenity's death he had realised just how much he missed out on by blocking himself off from others. Not that he was about to go around wearing his heart on his sleeve like some over-emotional Gryffindor, but that didn't mean he had to shut out those closest to him.
With this in mind he decided to try to explain how he felt to his son, and hope that it wasn't enough to push Scorpius back behind his own walls.
"It's...complicated," he said at last.
"Complicated in what way?"
"It's not just the one thing...It's more than one thing..."
"Well, what is one of those things?" Scor asked, with far more patience than Draco himself had ever possessed. His voice even sounded different, deeper, although that could simply be from sleep.
Draco found himself pleating the covers nervously, a habit which his father had broken him of when he was eight.
"Is it about Mum?" Scorpius persisted.
"A-a little," he admitted.
"The way that she died, or the fact that she died?"
"It's—I-I guess—Well, maybe—It's a little—a little of both..."
-x-
"And you blame yourself," Albus prompted with more certainty, feeling himself to be on more familiar ground. His father, even now, re-lapsed occasionally into fits of self-blame. And Serenity's death was just recent.
"Of course. I mean, they listed cause of death as unknown, but...It was so obvious. There was no disease, no natural disease, that could have done that...And any enemies we had...they weren't her enemies at all, they were mine, and my father's. From the war, from when we were both Death Eaters. Not that I ever did much very useful for him, but nobody really wants to hear that..."
-x-
Now that he had started, Draco found that it was difficult to stop. Some of these things had been bottled up for years, and only began surfacing after Serenity's horrible death.
"Show me one person who was around during the war who actually believes that, and I'll show you Harry Potter..."
There was a sudden movement, quickly stilled, from Scorpius, and Draco looked at him curiously.
"It's nothing. Just pins-and-needles. Keep going."
Draco frowned, but continued anyway. If he stopped now he doubted that he would ever start again.
"I truly didn't do much. I tried so hard, but I just couldn't. To start with I wanted to...I was so sure that the Dark Lord was right, that he was making the world a better place, and that I would be helping him to do so...It made sense to me, on some level. I had been raised to believe myself so superior to everyone, to be right where others were wrong, to look down upon others for being born to a different world...I never questioned it, never considered that my parents could be wrong.
"I was just a child Scorpius...Just a child. Just your age...Merlin, I really was just a child. I mean I know that you're not just a child, you're capable of making your own decisions, but no one that young should have to go through the things that I went through..."
"I know what you meant," Scorpius said softly. "You just meant that you didn't have the experience to form your own judgements; of course you were going to follow in your parents footsteps and believe that whatever they told you was the truth. They told you that you were special, which is what everyone wants to hear. You had no reason to question that."
Draco nodded.
"Your mother's death; it really was because of me. Not my fault exactly—I know that most of the time—but certainly because of me, for whatever reason. Whether the because of the war or something more recent. We Malfoys are born to make enemies..."
He laughed suddenly, a brief and incongruously happy sound.
"Not you though... You were born to make friends, and I'm glad of it. Enemies might make you important, but it is friends who truly make you special. Remember that, and don't make the mistakes I made. Don't close yourself off, no matter how much it hurts. It's not worth it. Believe me, I know. And once you start it's so difficult to stop...
"Your mother and I had an arranged marriage originally. I think that you knew that. But I loved her, Scorpius. I loved her so much. I never told her that. Not once, and I should have. I should have told her so many times..."
Draco could feel the tears now streaming down his face, and it felt good to cry, openly, for the first time since Serenity's death. The first time ever, if it came to that.
"I love you Scorpius. I love you so much. Don't ever doubt that for one second. No matter what I do or say—or don't do or say—that will always be true..."
"I know Father. I love you too."
