"I have a headache." Rosanna frowns, whipping back the comforter and climbing into their bed. Where Draco is sat, doing a bit of light reading.
"Again?" He sets the book aside, to massage her throbbing temples.
"Yes again," she sighs, leaning into his touch.
"I'm beginning to think you're trying to avoid sleeping with me." Draco quips.
"Oh please," Rosanna opens her eyes, long enough to glare at him.
"'I have a headache,' is the go to excuse of women across the world."
"Smart women," Rosanna remarks, with a smirk.
"In truth, majority of headaches are caused by stress." Draco points out. "And you know what's good for relieving stress?"
"Let me guess... Could it be sex?" She replies, sounding less than pleased.
"I didn't make the rules." He chuckles at her exasperated expression.
"You know what," Rosanna muses, "at this point I'll try anything."
"Ten points for Gryffindor." Draco rejoices.
"Only ten?" Rosanna shakes her head, "we'll have to do better than that." She begins trailing kisses down his chest.
"Where do you think you're going?" His long fingers have migrated to her hair.
"A good blow job should be worth at least a thousand." Rosanna shrugs.
"Later," Draco argues, "I need to be inside you."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Malfoy." Rosanna smirks, pecking a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She loves him like mad, and it has been a while. "Any other requests?"
"A few, all would earn a fair number of points for your beloved alma mater. However," he pauses, pulling her onto his lap, "we're trying to relieve your stress."
Rosanna grins, pulling his erection free of his bottoms. Her own panties pulled to the side, too impatient to undress before sliding down his length.
Pounding headache all but forgotten, maybe Draco was onto something.
"Gods I love you." Draco muses as she moves over him.
She's fucking him hard into the matress. Theor headboard battering the wall.
Strawberry blonde waves bouncing in time with her breasts. Pretty pink nipples straining against the fabric of her nightshirt.
"Love you," Rosanna smirks, as Draco wrestles the material over her head. Before quite literally charming off her knickers.
"Mmm," he hums appreciatively at her bare form. "Better sweetheart?"
Her stomach isn't flat anymore, it never was again after Leo. And her hips and thighs are wider, so lovely under his hands. Her full breasts have the loveliest droop to them, after carrying and nursing six of his children. His cock twitches as her breath hitches.
"Yes Draco."
"Tell me." He encourages her filthy mouth.
"Love your cock in me. Love that I'm the only one who gets to be full of you. Full of your love, full of your babies, full of your cum. I want all your cum," she whimpers, dangerously close, as he begins thumbing tight circles on her swollen clit. "I'll be good, please give it to me."
"Only you my darling, always only for you. Yours always." He coos, nuzzling her nose with his.
"Drac- oh fuck," Rosanna cries, tossing her head back in ecstasy, his hips bucking up to meet hers. So deep it almost hurts.
"Come here Ro," he pulls her tight to his chest, hands on her hips, helping her keep pace. "So good for me, taking my cock. So pretty. I love you so much."
Soft fingers tangle in his hair, face against the crook of his neck, nipping love bites against his skin. "Baby...please, love you."
He nudges her up slightly, lowering his head to her breasts. Sucking her right nipple into his mouth, flicking his thumb over her left.
She lets out a strangled sob and tumbling over the edge. Draco keeps moving her over him, her orgasm triggers his own. Spilling himself into her heat, until he's left a panting mess.
Blonde lock tickle his nose. Draco smoothes them down, resting his chin atop her head. Keeping Rosanna tucked safely in his arms, her fingers swirling circles onto his shoulder blades.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, after a long moment.
"Better." Rosanna mumbles, sleepy and sated.
"Told you I could clear up that pesky headache straight away." Draco chuckles, pleased with himself.
"Yeah, yeah." Ro rolls her eyes. "No one likes a know it all."
"You liked me plenty a moment ago, 'oh please Draco, give me all your cum.'" He says, in a terrible imitation of Rosanna's voice. "And they say I'm the possessive one." He smirks wickedly, poking a bit of fun at her; knowing full well he got off on it.
"Shut up," she scowls, pulling away as she flicks his arm in retaliation.
"Your nose," he says, noticing the trickle of blood there.
"Oh," Rosanna swipes the back of her hand over it.
Draco finds it odd, but is willing to write it off as a freak incident...until it happens twice more in the same week.
—
"Professor Trelawney?" Scorpius waves over the teacher, as the rest of his classmates begin to clear the room.
"Oh yes, yes my dear boy. Have you divined something?" She rushes toward him, eyes wild, behind her coke bottle classes.
"I was just wondering, if it's possible to divine things that's already happened." The boys asks, as Albus and Rose watch on from the table.
"Seeing into the past?" The divination teacher takes a step closer, never one to honor personal space.
"But it's not exactly just the past...well I guess it is," he corrects himself. Trying to make sense of it all. "I see myself where I couldn't possibly be."
"I've never heard of such a thing, could it be your own reflection? Caught in the glass perhaps?" Trelawney's fingers move about frantically.
"Well I just...my Mum-"
"Yes your mother, Rosemary, was it?" The older woman drawls. "Rubbish at the tea leaves, rubbish at the ball."
"Rosanna and yeah, she wasn't any good." Scorpius nods.
"Neither was your father, Drake." She continues, in the same disappointed tone.
"Draco," Scorpius corrects her; becoming impatient.
"I divined a prophecy for them."
"I understand," he cuts her off, "I just meant because she's a born legilimen, maybe that's what I'm seeing."
"Give us your palm, let's have a look." Sybil turns his hand over, tracing a line down the center. Before pulling away like he's burned her.
"Scorp, we should just go," Albus tugs at his robes, "it's nothing."
"There's a man." Trelwany tells him.
"My dad?" Scorpius leans closer, "is it my dad or someone else?"
"There's someone on the inside, your blood. But you've never known them for who they are. They'll try to use you, you mustn't let them." The divination teacher says, hysterically. "For when we undo what has been done, the future is uncertain."
"The future is always uncertain," Rose scowls at the crazy old bat. "Let's go Scorpius, we'll be late to potions."
"Beware thine enemy! Beware thine friend!" The professor calls after him.
—
"Good morning Rosanna, always a pleasure." Dr. Balmon greets, entering the pristine white hospital room at St. Mungo's. He is the same mind healer who'd been in charge of Rosanna's care after the Talbot case.
Seeing his smiling face still sets Draco's teeth on edge.
"Thanks for getting me in so quickly." She says in return, tightening her arms around herself on the exam table.
"Well, according to your husband, the matter is pressing. Mind if I run a diagnostic?" Balmon holds up his wand.
"No, please." Rosanna agrees quickly.
He begins at her head, scanning the wand over the length of her. "Not expecting." He announces.
"No," Rosanna laughs, "factory's closed."
"I've heard that one before." The man chuckles, tucking the wand back into his coat pocket.
"Well," Draco snaps, no time for pleasantries.
"There was nothing indicative of a problem." The doctor explains, "perhaps you could give a list of symptoms."
"Nose bleeds, that don't seem to stop. Headaches, so painful she vomits. Fainting, bouts of confusion, and most recently forgetfulness." Draco ticks off on his fingers.
Balmon removes his glasses. "One hears many things in my profession. Until told otherwise I consider them untruths. But just for laughs, let's say two individuals partake in a binding ceremony. And those same individuals are romantically involved. Combining blood magic, from the ritual, with carnal magic, that is now associated with coitus. Suddenly you shite where you eat; and that never ends well for anyone."
"So what do you suggest?" Rosanna asks.
"Human conduits are so rare, their documentation is even more scarce. The truth is, your magic is still fluctuating. Rosanna could be better in a week, or worse in a day. I'll work up a few potions for you to try and have them sent over within the next few days." The doctor can't treat what he can't find. Instead he'll have to start small and rule out possibilities based on her reaction to different doses.
"Our kids are coming home for Christmas, anyway to get a rush order?" Rosanna asks.
"I'll do what I can." Balmon touches her shoulder gently.
—
Time, as always, waits for no one. Christmas comes, and Rosanna seems well enough after her latest treatment. Which is the best gift Draco could ask for. However, sat around the large tree, surrounded by their children and countless red heads; Mrs. Weasley plops a bow clad parcel into his lap.
"Now one for Draco!" She announces proudly.
"One for Draco." The family repeats, those of drinking age raise their glasses of eggnog.
"Oooo, special one." Rosanna bumps his shoulder playfully.
"I've told you Molly, you're too generous. It's more than enough to be here. You don't need to give me anything." Draco reminds her. It means the world that they'd welcomed him into the fold; no questions asked the day Leo was born.
If he was good enough for their Rosanna, he was good enough for them.
"Oi, that's rubbish young man." Arthur claps him on the back, "it absolutely won't be tolerated."
"Now you get that box open." Molly waves her hands at him.
"Yes ma'am." Draco laughs, tearing open the wrapping.
A tapestry of his family, complete with their names and likeness, embroidered at the bottom, 'the Malfoys.'
"Thank you," Draco smiles, running his finger tips over the yarn. "It's brilliant, truly."
"That's a boy." Arthur squeezes his shoulder fondly.
"You deserve it." Molly winks. "You're a good man, good father."
"It'll hang over the mantel in the sitting room." Draco says proudly.
Rosanna leans forward suddenly, bracing herself with a hand to his thigh.
"Everything alright?" Fred asks, noticing her swift movement.
"Yeah, I had one too many glasses of eggnog." Rosanna laughs it off.
"That's what you get, trying to sympathy drink for Hermione." George smirks at his sister in law.
"Very funny," Hermione scowls.
"Someone has to drink her share, so she's not tempted," Rosanna defends herself. "She's got my little red headed baby in there." The blonde turns toward Hermione on her right.
"Oi! That's my red headed baby!" Ron protests, knocking Rosanna's greedy hands from his wife's belly.
"Fight, fight, fight, fight!" Roxanne and the Malfoy twins begin to chant.
With entire room entertained, no one registers the fact that Rosanna is falling; until she hits the carpet aside of the coffee table.
Handing Corina over to Harry, Draco takes his wife and disapparates without a word.
—
"If we go back to the sitting room do you think you can get a read?" Arlo asks her younger sister. Pacing the upstairs burrow room floor. They'd been banished so the 'adults' could speak freely.
"I don't know," Vega rubs her temples in frustration, "and even if I could-"
"V, just forget about the rules for a second." The second oldest Malfoy snaps. Like her father, she has never been one to mince words. "Something's wrong with Mum."
"No, absolutely not." Leo takes a step in front of Vega protectively. "It's an invasion of privacy."
"Just stay out of it, Leo. Like you always do." Polaris chimes in.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Leo scoffs.
"You're never around. All the sudden you care what happens to Mum? You can't stand to be around her, or Dad, or us. Too busy playing golden girl." Polaris sneers at her.
"That's ridiculous." Leo shakes her platinum blonde head.
"Is it?" Arlo shrugs, her strawberry blonde curls hanging at shoulder length.
"Do you know what people call me?" Leo asks. "Because most times it's not golden girl. Mum and Dad paid off a lot of people, but all the money in the world can't keep every mouth shut."
Her siblings have all gone pale in the face, because yes, they've heard the vulgar term thrown around. 'Rape baby.'
"And you can explain until you're blue in the face. No! My dad would never do that, he loves my mum. How could they even think that? Only to later find out that Dad did... Yes he loved her, yes she loved him, but she wasn't able to say no. Not while he was-" Leo breaks off, attempting to collect herself. "Until she was pregnant! Better to be a fix it baby. Or a spare. Or an accident. Or even, son of the bloody dark lord. Better to be anything, but a living breathing reminder of the worst thing that's ever happened to someone."
"Mum and Dad love you Leo. You were never that to them. Never ever." Scorpius objects, unshed tears in his eyes. Because like his mother, he cries when he's angry.
"Scorp, you're too young to understand-"
"I'm not too young!" He roars back. "I know that Mum wasn't all there, but she knew what she was asking him to do. Dad didn't have a choice! They could either have a baby, or die trying. That's barmy, it really is. But they never blamed you for it. No one ever blamed you for being born; only you."
"Everything alright?" Ron asks, knocking twice against the door frame.
"Everything's fine," they chorus.
"Course." Ron half smiles, knowing he'll never get a word out of them. They are their parents children after all.
—
"It's best you take your wife home and make her comfortable." Dr. Balmon tells Draco, after a thorough examination of Rosanna.
"Making a person comfortable is taking them home to die." Draco explains, in a measured tone. His features even more pale, beneath the hospital lights. "My wife is not dying, she was perfectly fine just minutes ago. She was walking and talking and laughing and fine! She was just-"
"I understand it's a lot to take in." The other man clears his throat.
"No, there's nothing to take in!" It requires every ounce of restraint in Draco's body not to knock the other man to kingdom come. "Give me a second opinion, or third, or however bloody high up the totem pole it takes to reach someone with common sense."
"Diagnostic scans detect nothing. For months she's been aleing regardless of intervention, regardless of treatment." Balmon remains calm and collected.
"The procedures she's been enduring, even some of the potions are very painful. Rosanna has fought for each and every day."
"And she will keep fighting." Draco insists, slamming a fist against the bed rail.
"This isn't a life Mr. Malfoy. Not for an enemy, certainly not for someone you love. There's a chance we can draw this out for a few months. But no more than a year." Rosanna's mind is far too compromised.
"Is there anything else we might try? Another explanation as to why all of the sudden-"
"The mind is a precarious thing." The doctor sighs, "extremely temperamental. Especially when exposed to memory charms, the imperius curse, multiple magical pregnancies, the list goes on."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Draco demands, this was something he'd done.
"Rosanna is a good woman. She'd never blame you, even begged me never to say a word." Balmon confesses. "But as I'm releasing her from my care, it's my belief, that you deserve to know."
"Rosanna knew about this?" She knew it when her nosebleeds increased frequency. When she was clutching her head in silent agony. During each 'I love you,' every kiss. She knew when they'd fought over continuing treatment. She knew all this time and never said a word. She knew it was his fault.
"Your wife deserves to be at home, with family and loved ones. To leave this world with dignity and respect, not to whither away in a hospital bed. Take her home Mr. Malfoy, I beg you."
—
"Is your Mum doing any better?" Albus asks. In all the years he'd known the Malfoys, neither of Scorpius' parents had ever missed a pick up or send off.
Scorpius shakes his platinum head, somberly. "She still hasn't woken up. There's a silencing charm around their room. Vega nows something, but she won't talk. Whatever it is, it's not getting any better."
"Wish my parents thought to use a silencing charm, they've been fighting again. And you know how my Dad is...with his night terrors and all." Albus doesn't mean to make this about himself. So he doesn't bother mentioning the spat with his father the previous day.
Scorpius recalls nights of interrupted sleep at the Potter house. Harry waking in a panic, or calling out in a dead sleep, so loudly it shook the windows. "It'll sort. Always does." The fair haired boy offers.
"Albus, Scorpius, come on." Hermione waves them over. "Rose is waiting for you on the train. We'll see you for summer holiday. Got a big trip planned this year, it'll be brilliant." She kisses each of their heads gingerly, before the pair rushes up the steps.
Once seated, a knock at the window calls their attention.
"Delphi?" Scorpius says, unlocking the window and sliding it open.
"Hey kid," the girl smiles. Her silver gray hair is gathered into a high ponytail with rebellious blue tips. She's around Leo's age, Scorpius thinks that's why his mother was so keen to take her under her wing, at the ministry.
"What are you doing here?" He asks.
"Just wanted to say I'm really sorry about your Mum. But I have something I think might help." Delphi offers, rummaging through her bag.
"Then you should give it to her, please." Scorpius insists. "I won't be back until summer."
"It'll help with that too." Delphi tells him, sliding a tiny parcel into his palm.
"I don't understand." He looks to her in confusion.
"You have to stop your Dad from using spells on your Mum. It'll make her better, I swear it." Rosanna's former assistant promises.
"But he doesn't use spells on her." Scorpius is even more confused.
"Anymore," Delphi says, pointedly.
"How can a stop him from doing things he's already done?"
The train whistle sounds, signaling it's ready to leave the platform.
"I don't have time to explain." Delphi apologizes, "all you have to do is turn it. It'll take you were you need to go."
"Wait! Wait!" Scorpius yells, as the engine chugs to life.
Delphi waves as they depart.
"What did you give him?" Hermione asks when Delphi joins her and Harry, to watch the train disappear.
"Box of chocolates," the younger woman shrugs. "Maybe it'll make him feel better."
"That was thoughtful of you." Hermione purses her lips, "though I'm not sure he can feel any better; given the current state of things."
"She's dying, isn't she?" Delphi asks, when Hermione leaves her on the platform with Harry.
Harry's eyes darting about, to be sure no one is listening in. "Rosanna's strong, she'll fight."