X: But I don't have to make this mistake, and I don't have to stay this way.

He stumbles into work, feeling irrationally – or perhaps completely rationally – angry and morose. It's never a good combination, but in his state, Draco doesn't stop to think about that. There's a small voice, it sounds almost sober, in the back of his mind, shouting at him, but he has long learned how to drown out that little pest.

There's no one around this early in the morning usually, so he continues to his office. The lock keeps moving as he tries to put his key in, each time causing frustration to rise within him. Upon the fourth time, Draco throws his keys on the ground and draws out his wand. He swishes it dramatically, but right before he can utter a spell to blast the godforsaken door right off, a door behind him speaks.

Draco is so caught off guard he jumps up into the air, dropping the wand gracelessly onto the floor. It lies motionless next to his keys, the wand looking all the more fragile. He turns, disgruntled, to the interruption. He doesn't need to though; he knows that voice.

"Something the matter?" There's no trace of his usual warmth and humour, and he's wearing the most ridiculously stern expression that, quite frankly, makes Draco want to laugh – because this is Blaise.

It turns out he does let out a snort of laughter, because Blaise curses loudly, "Jesus, Draco! What the hell is wrong with you? You're piss drunk!"

"Nooo," He replies petulantly with a stubborn shake of his head. "I'm just a lil mrry." Draco hears his slurred words, but tries to mask it with a face of indifference.

"I don't think you're taking me seriously, Draco. You don't see me as an equal, and you never have. I'm just the comical sidekick – but you know what? You're going to be out on your ass, with nothing to your name. A family that hates you, no friends, no job and funnily enough, something that was your companion your whole life will be gone: money. " He can't even form a coherent response, just stands there numb after the verbal bitch slap. Even he wanted to, Draco's mind is too fuzzy and disjointed to even fully make a comeback to that. Blaise sighs, moving towards him, "Don't make me do this, Draco. Please, clean up your act."

He walks away then, leaving Draco alone in the empty foyer outside his office. Numbly, he opens the door to his office. What happens from there, no one would believe, as the heir to Lucius Malfoy's name falls down onto the floor, drawing his knees close to him and shakes violently with the force of his inescapable sobs.

He hates it; hates the weakness, the vulnerability and the lack of pride in the action. Above all this though, there's an overwhelming feeling that makes him cry even harder, and it's relief.

It's two o'clock the next day when Draco is sitting at his desk, hours after his outburst, working quietly on a batch of claims from unsatisfied customers. He hesitates in the middle of a particularly nasty letter, glancing almost unwillingly over to Blaise's proposal. He doesn't quite know why he's so adamant against it; is it really such a bad idea? Blaise is right, if they don't take their business abroad, something with bigger wings will. Then again, as his hands touch the claims once more, he's reminded of their kinks and issues with the system. He's already suggested they bring in some muggle experts on the subject, perhaps muggles with knowledge of the wizarding world already. Some members of the board outright refused that, but Draco thinks it's inevitable that they eventually seek advice on this complicated subject.

His phone rings, and Draco looks at it curiously for a second before picking it up, "Hello?" He figures it must be important if his secretary didn't even bother asking him if he wanted to take the call. He really needs to fire that man.

He can only hear very faint breathing on the other end, but just before he's about to hang up in exasperation, words come tumbling through, "D—Dad?"

Draco freezes. Dare he believe it? Is this really who he thinks it is? Surely, it's a cruel prank by an enemy, a set-up by Astoria… Surely, this isn't - "Dad, are you there? It's Scorpius.." He snorts derisively, "Obviously, I guess. Unless you've got a hidden family somewhere."

"I appreciate the humour, Scor." He begins tentatively, scared to death of chasing him away, "So, what's up?"

"Mum said I have to meet you in Hogsmeade today. Can you be here in a half hour?" There's a biting apathy in his tone that makes Draco flinch a bit, but he convinces himself that this is solely for the purpose of making him flinch.

"Of course I can, that would be great. I'll see you then, okay?"

"Bye." The dial tone sounds, but he still holds it to his ear for a while longer. It's loud and obtrusive to his thoughts, yet, it reminds him of the phone call he can't shake. In all honesty, he can't believe that Astoria actually did what he asked. He supposes the divorce poisoned their opinion of each other beyond recognition – when they had made the decision to split, there hadn't been half this amount of animosity.

It's so easily built though. So much so, that Draco eventually surrendered everything – their ongoing battle was hurting their son, and as much as he was loathe to admit, it hurt him, too. Draco always marveled at how two people who were so in love could become so disenfranchised with each other. How does that happen, anyway? Logically, he knows there are tons of answers – heck, he can easily list off some of the ones that caused his and Astoria's eventual split. Sometimes though, in the rare moments, he ignores logic and lets himself think of their giddy days.

It's stupid, it's redundant, but, by Merlin, it's one of the best times of his life.

He now has this wonderful opportunity to try fix him and Scorpius, to at least make the starting steps towards a solid relationship again. Draco doesn't think he'll be able to leave today without some measure of progress, because that would signify a degree of hopelessness. This is his chance.

He's not going to mess this up.

"I'm kind of surprised you came," This is Scorpius' greeting as Draco slides into the booth across from him, straining to hear his sons voice over the bustle of The Three Broomsticks.

Draco's affronted and slightly wounded, but he tries his best to deflect those feelings. "Why would you think I'd stand you up?" He's genuinely curious, too.

Scorpius, shrugs, his blond hair shaking a bit with the movement. It's cut like Draco's in his sixth year, which he wants to smile at, but he knows better. The boy has been told too many times of his likeness to his father, so despite his yearning to say it again, Draco holds it back. Scorpius sits straight in his seat, his eyes set directly on Draco. He doesn't shirk back. Draco's thankful for this, because his son is like him in that he can face his peers confrontation head on – but so unlike him in that he can do it to his father. He can't express how happy it makes him to know Scorpius isn't afraid of him.

"Well, you aren't really around much anymore."

"What? I'm around whenever you ask me to be.. Is that what this is all about, Scorpius?"

The boy 's gaze flickers downwards, vulnerability on his face for the first time, "I don't know."

He frowns, wondering if this is the route of all problems. Why doesn't he understand? Draco would be there day and night if he could, but he doesn't live with them anymore. His time is restricted to when they meet up, to when they make organized visits. There's no more casual dropping by and waking up in the morning to eggs and bacon. "I can't help that me and your Mum aren't together anymore. I—I wish… God, I wish you knew how hard this is for us. You are the last person in the whole world your Mother and I want to hurt." He tries to search out Scorpius' eyes, but it's more difficult than before, "But I know, in the end, we did."

"I… I always got the impression it's your fault."

"What? Where would you get that?" He tries not to be angry, to keep all the ire out of his voice, and he thinks he's succeeded.

Identical blue eyes stare down each other, but not threateningly. Scorpius fidgets with his glass of butterbeer, "I don't know. Mum was always crying… You were suddenly gone.."

"I was gone because the house belongs to Mum," Draco begins gently, "Not because I didn't want to be there. If I could, you bet I'd still live with you."

Suddenly, like a spark to a match, fury lights up Scorpius' face. "Then why don't you? You talk a big talk Father," He spits the word out like poison, which makes Draco recoil slightly. It reminds him of Lucius. "All this conversation of wanting to meet up, of wanting to spend more time together and keep close – when have you actually tried? Letters upon letters, but not once did you ask to meet up."

Draco sits solid, gaping at his son. He tries to grasp onto some words, but before he can give anything back, Scorpius continues on, only gaining momentum. He's incensed now; all this mounting resentment and anger pouring out rapidly, "You don't even live anywhere! How can I come and stay with you when you don't even have a house ? Don't pretend you're not drunk half the time anyway, I even tried to smell for alcohol when you sat down earlier! Do you have any concept of how hard that is?" His anger melts away, turning slowly into some akin to distress. Draco thinks he'd cry if they weren't in such a public place. He's glad now for the noise around them, meaning none of Scorpius' peers can overhear their discussion. Draco's uncomfortable, shocked and even a bit offended, but he can't help but be glad for the confessions. He finally knows what happened and why, he finally understands – and that's half the battle.

"Well?" Scorpius prompts, his voice wobbly, "What are you doing to say? Deny it all? Insist that's not the case? Go on, entertain me,"

"Don't take that tone with me, Scorpius. No matter what, I'm your Father. " He pauses, folding his hands in front of him to concentrate on something. "But I am so sorry. I'm not going to deny anything, Scorpius… You're right. You're utterly and completely right. I tried to be a good Father to you, but in the process, ended up being the opposite. I—I thought my private life wouldn't affect you, but that was stupid, because you are part of my private life.

"What can I do, Scorpius?"

To his credit, his son looks appropriately surprised, but shakes it off quickly, "Well… Well, you could stop drinking. Get somewhere to sleep at night, Dad. It's not rocket science. "

Without an ounce of uncertainty, Draco nods, "Consider it done. We'll organize days and nights for you to come stay with me.."

Scorpius gives him his first smile then, "I'd like that."

"Then it's settled. When you come home during the break, we'll set up some sort of schedule. You can decide whatever you want."

"Good." They're silent, both letting the words of the previous conversation settle around them, but Scorpius soon breaks it, "By the way, it wasn't Mum that made me meet you here – though she did have some very stern words for me – it was that last letter. About—about Rose. Even though I was angry, it was nice to know you approved."

"Unless she's awful to you, I'll approve, Scor," He thinks for a moment, "Or if she's a troll."

They laugh, and the sense of peace he felt with Astoria is doubled. This is what he needs to move forward.

A/N: Another long wait. I really am eager to finish this though, and it's one of my favourite pieces of written. I'm not sure why, but I hold this one dear to my heart. I suppose because, to me, it's all quite relatable. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you think :) Belle will be back next chapter also. Disclaimer: Do not own HP or "Winter" by Joshua Radin, from which the title is derived.

Thanks for reading,

CN.