"Draco?" Her voice comes, warm and soft, but within it a worry.
"What is it, darling?" Somehow his Mother's endearment to his Father has become his own towards his wife.
"You-you should see t-this..."
"What troubles you?" He doesn't move, not yet. He will adjust his clothes to perfection and then see to her.
"Just come in here." Her voice is harsh. Her voice is never harsh, not with me, never around Scorpius. That gets him to move, in long but still measured strides, into the sunroom adjoining their bedroom, where they always break their fast together.
Astoria stands next to the table, her arms wrapped protectively around Scorpius soft shape. The boy's head rests on his mother's shoulder, the perfect fit for the gentle curve there. Her eyes have gone wide; her lips are parted, like she is incapable of gathering enough air through her nostrils. He rushes to her, to hold her, worried that she may be putting all her efforts into not dropping their child, as she does when she feels faint. She never lets go of consciousness until she feels her child is safe in Draco's arms.
"It's not that, Draco" she whispers as she feels his arms around her frail body, holding her up although she is not falling. "It's the Prophet."
"What about the Prophet? What could it possibly say to do this to you, hum? That the Dark Lord is ba-"
That is not what it says. It is much, much worse, he fears. His own Mother is there, on the front page, the image of perfection for the entire world to see. Except she has a little girl with her, walking just ahead. That was not for the world to see.
Delphini. They know about Delphini.
They have kept her outings discreet. Very discreet. They either attend receptions in other houses and take her or that very same small circle of people come to gather in their own house. They know of her, they also know not to speak of her to the outside world. Most comply immediately, no objection whatsoever. They are parents and grandparents that wish to spare their own children the stigma of their sins and of their past. Those who might just mention her have been dealt with. Swearing them into secrecy, threatening them if needed be. His own Father had become rather apt at glaring at people just so and getting his point across: "A word of her and there will be consequences". The fact that they do not know the extent of her power frightens them just enough. They do not know, but they certainly feel her when she comes in a room.
"I'll kill Potter! I will! And those bloody half-wits of the Ministry-" He's not even thinking anymore. His precious girl has been exposed in the worst possible way and he will have blood for it.
"Draco! You know it wasn't Harry! He would never speak to the journalists about Delphie. Especially to her."
He takes one long, deep breath, bringing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, as if that could stop the impending headache.
This is exactly why we protect her, exactly why she almost never goes out… I've been keeping her pretty much locked inside a bubble and that green bloody freak of a half-blood journalist just went and screwed it all up! Oh, I'll give her Death Eater. I'll make my Aunt Bellatrix proud!
Astoria looks on. Her husband is losing it in the most composed way she has ever seen anyone loose it, and she knows that means his mind is a furious mess. She is angry herself, but nothing compares to the rage simmering beneath Draco's pale skin.
"Narkey!" With Scorpius and Delphini running about, leaving chaos in their path, they decided on a second house-elf. When the elf pops in front of her, she lowers Scorpius to his arms and orders him to feed the toddler. "Keep your little master in his playroom for a while, if you please."
"Narkey will be doing just that, Mistress Astoria. Could Narkey be taking young master to see little mistress? Fond of her, little master is." The elf grins at her, but she cannot help the fright running down her spine.
"No, Narkey. My son stays in the playroom." It comes out harsher than she means to, and she is sure there will be self-injury because of it but there are bigger things in her mind.
It's happening… I'm afraid of a child! A little girl, who adores my boy, and here I am keeping him at a safe distance… She forces those thoughts to the back of her mind, convincing herself that it is just for the morning, until they are all sure that Delphini can understand why this piece of paper might bring so many things into her life. Things went so smoothly yesterday. How could this happen?
A ragged breath from Draco brings her back to reality. He is still seething, his composure is cracking. His hands are both tightly closed fists, and there is a crimson shade rising through the skin at his neck. He is up for a fight, she realizes. He is up for breaking into the Ministry and the Prophet's offices and raise hell for this.
"Draco," she tries with a soothing voice, moving towards him, placing a hand on his arm, "you can't just go into a fury now. We need to tell Delphini the rest about-"
"You think I don't know that? Do you think me so daft, Astoria, truly?" He never speaks to her like this, but he cannot help it. Someone dared disturb his carefully rebuilt world. Someone squirmed into their lives with that thing on the table and thinking straight is out of his abilities right now. "That sorry excuse of a half-blood would-be-journalist… Whoever talked to her… They'll pay, Toria, I'll make sure of it, I'll…" He doesn't care to finish his sentences anymore.
It is the one promise I will not allow to falter! They will not make her into something she is not! His mind is lost in a maze of red anger. All of his training as a Death Eater surfacing, allowing him to build scenarios of destruction, of dead culprits made to pay with pain. No, no, no! Stop it! You can't do that, there is no way you'll convince anyone outside that she is not dangerous if you become a raging lunatic on the streets looking for revenge! Stop! Think, you idiot!
He can't.
And she can only worry for him. He hasn't used blood insults in years now, he shares her forgiving views on blood purity, and yet, it's the first place he goes. Old habits do die hard. They are coming for his treasure and he is not going down without a fight… My brave, brave husband with his broken wings will always stand between his treasure and the rest of the world.
There's true adoration in her eyes and that seems to hold him for a while. Enough to ask him if they shouldn't at least read the article and become fully aware of what they're up against. He gathers himself and wraps his arms around her waist.
"You turn the pages. If I touch that thing, I have a feeling it will vanish in flames and smoke."
They stand by the table then. Examining the headline and the short text under the moving picture. "Known Death Eater, suspiciously forgiven twice for her treachery, Narcissa Malfoy is raising the Mad Witch's spawn into Darkness. Is the Dark Lord rising again?" Astoria keeps stroking his hands, holding them at times, as they read through a web of half-truths, full-blown lies and utter gibberish not even Trelawney could come up with. By the end of it, they are both considerably calmer. The absence of the girl's true siring slowly making its path through their minds, into understanding.
"I'm still going to hurt someone for this! I'm getting to the bottom of this, and I'm making sure those half-wits learn a lesson or two about what a Malfoy can still do!"
She turns in his arms, smiling. The dragon no longer breathes fire, for the moment that is. His pride dictates his course now and she feels it's a much better choice than revenge and exacerbated protective instincts. She holds his face in her hands and brings his forehead to hers.
"Before you unleash whatever Malfoys deem fit to unleash on their foes, we must talk to Delphini. She doesn't know anything about Death Eaters and you know she will ask questions for a week straight. Let's make sure she is aware of things first, so that we can deal with the rest of the world later, shall we?" Her kind eyes never leave his. There is so much concern in those icy expanses, so much sorrow for what he cannot spare his precious girl. His little bird, she thinks.
"What would I do without you?" Truly, what would I do without this wonder of a woman that stood by my side during the worst of the war and somehow found it in her to stay? "Always so wise, Toria, always so measured. A dangerous kind of Slytherin, you are." There is a half smirk on his lips as he pecks hers, a play of relaxation. He holds her close as she tells him that they should head over to his parents wing and discuss their options together.
Then they hear loud voices in the distance. Precisely from the older Malfoy couple's wing. They are both stunned and surprised by the fact that Narcissa is raising her voice at her husband. Draco has no recollection of such a thing, ever. It's his turn to take charge.
"You stay here. Stay with Scorpius, do not come to us unless I send one of the elves, Toria. Don't even try to interrupt me. I don't know what's happened, but I need you to take care of our son. If things go wrong, I need you to reassure Delphini for me. Just wait a while. If I don't call for you, call for Delphie. Take care of her for me. Tell her." He leaves at that, not even looking back over his shoulder. He trusts her, completely, and that is enough reassurance for her. She stands there, as his frantic steps take him away.
X
It doesn't take long until she feels something change in the house. She is with Scorpius again, combing his blond hair with her fingers as she entertains him with little wisps of magic that leave her wand.
It is strange, this thing. Foreign to all that she knows of magic. But it is magic, cold, vicious, dark magic. And she fears the little bird's dragon has been pushed too far.
Author's Notes: You know that challenge about guessing who's coming into this? It still stands
I completely forgot to mention it, but I have uploaded another side piece to this, In the Wee Hours of the Night. It was meant to be a chapter in BbD, but didn't make it, and it's pretty much my foundation for the relationship between Lucius and Delphini