Draco loves to watch his son, moving a little more each day. "is it uncomfortable?" He asks, tracing what he can only assume to be the babe's foot, across Rosanna's skin.
"He likes to stretch. Sometimes it hurts." Ro tells him softly.
"If I could do it for you, I would." Draco's brows furrow.
"You'd be radiant, I'm sure." Ro laughs. "I wouldn't give this up though."
Draco smiles at her, pressing kisses to her bump. "When I learned we were expecting, I was worried. I know, first hand, how lonely it can be growing up a Malfoy. Forced to conform to my parent's ideals. I never had many friends, just people who hung around for my name.
I think his reputation may proceed him, at school. Others might shy away, or worse, he'll attract the wrong sort. That's why I've asked for more children; more than I want to hold them in my arms, more than I want to see you in their tiny faces, more than I want to love them with all that I am. I don't want our boy to be alone."
Rosanna feels the tears welling in her eyes. "People might treat him differently, we can't protect him from that. All we can do is teach him to be kind and true to himself, that he is always loved."
"I've been thinking- it's about time he had a proper name. If there's one you have in mind, we should use it. But if not... I quite like Leo. It means-"
"Lion." She finishes for him.
"Brave and true. Any child of yours will be just that." Draco explains fondly.
"Leo," Rosanna tests it out. The name feels right, their baby feels like a, "Leo." She says again, with finality. "So you do want to stick to constellations?"
"We don't have to." Draco coaxes her into her side, rubbing gingerly at the tense muscles of her back.
"That feels so good." Rosanna relaxes into the pillows.
"I've got magic fingers love, don't tell me you've forgotten." Draco murmurs, against the smooth skin behind her ear.
"I haven't," Rosanna smirks. "But-"
"But?" The boy arches a brow.
"I'd still enjoy a refresher course. If you're up for it." She mumbles into her pillow.
"Are you coming on to me?" Draco asks, giddily. After all, it has been a while. Twenty three days to be exact, but who's counting?
Rosanna turns to face him, "maybe." Brown eyes searching his, for something he hopes she finds. Leaning forward she brushes her lips over his, softly, sweetly, just like it was the first time.
"God bless America." Draco sighs against her mouth, his right hand moving down to her hip, pulling her closer. Until her belly is pressed to the front of him.
When Rosanna tosses a leg over his waist and moves to straddle him, Draco smirks against her pink lips. She's sporting a large yellow t-shirt over her panties, fuzzy magenta socks, stopping mid shin.
A stark contract to Draco in his, emerald, perfectly matched pajama set. His erection tenting in the silken bottoms.
He catches the hem of her shirt, guiding it over her head with practiced fingers. Leaving the girl in her knickers and socks.
"You're over dressed Mr. Malfoy." Rosanna makes quick work of the buttons on his top.
Draco leans up slightly, to toss the material onto the floor with Ro's. "Better darling?"
"Getting there." The girl nods, her blonde locks held away from her face in a messy bun, near the top of her head.
"I've missed this." He remarks, watching her hands move for the waistband of his bottoms. Draco is a simple man, starved for physical affection and intimacy from the woman he adores.
"Let me make it up to you." The little minx sinks down lower, tugging his trousers and briefs down the length of his legs. His erection bobs between them.
Rosanna kisses the head once, before taking him into her mouth, wrapping her hand around the base, stroking in time with her suction.
He leans up on his elbows to watch her. Draco is an only child from a wealthy family. He's never begged for a thing in his life...until her. Please was now a regular part of his vocabulary.
"You're gonna kill me." Is all he can muster, letting himself flop back into the pillows, tugging frantically at his own hair. He can practically hear her smart remark, the one she'd be making, if her mouth weren't full of him.
She strokes his hip bones lovingly, enjoying his inability to think properly. Hollowing her cheeks, moving her lips up and down his shaft faster.
"Please don't stop." Draco moves hands to her hair. Never to push, always just to hold onto some part of her; thrusting up to meet her mouth. "Love...I-"
Rosanna hums at the term of endearment. She's wet just hearing how much Draco enjoys this.
He never lasts long, under the careful ministrations of her tongue. Part of him suspects Ro likes that, she always wipes her mouth with a triumphant little grin.
Tonight is no exception, her tongue swirls at the tip of him and he's a goner. "Cumming," he grunts, tapping her cheek lightly, in warning.
Not that she had any intention of pulling away, but the first time he'd cum without a heads up, she ended up choking on his load, to the point where some was even trickling out of her nose.
She swallows all he gives her, pulling away with a pop, "forgive me?" She cocks her head to the side, a smirk on her swollen lips.
"Get up here." Draco chuckles, the second he regains function of his brain. "Look at you," he pulls her into his arms. "You're glowing." He tells her, brushing wayward hair behind ears.
"Yeah, right." Rosanna rolls her eyes.
"Do you get off on arguing with me?" He reaches between them, cupping her sex, damp with arousal. "Is it satisfying when you've gotten a rise out of me?"
"You're an ass sometimes," she shrugs breathlessly as practiced digits circle her clit.
"Bane of your existence, love of your life...two sides of the same coin, really." He taunts, his nose running the length of hers.
"Shut up." She pouts, pulling him in for a kiss.
A slender finger slips inside her, determined to get her over the edge. Adding a second, Draco curls them up toward her g-spot, stroking it, in a come hither motion.
"Draco," Rosanna murmurs against his lips, losing her fingers in his hair. "More please." She opens her legs wider for him.
Kissing a trail down her neck, to her collar bones, sucking little love marks into the skin there. Moving lower still, her breasts heaving as she inhales.
Draco sucks her right nipple into his mouth, his erection standing at attention once more.
"Fuck," she whines as the pace of his fingers increases.
Giving the same attention to her left peak, Draco is rewarded handsomely, with wanton moans. She finds reaches her high moments later, his name on her lips.
He gives her time to come down, before thrusting into her. They make love leisurely, savoring each other, never knowing if this time will be their last.
She's never felt so connected to anything or anyone, as she does with him in this moment. Searching for his lips, Rosanna find herself lost deep in a memory; his memory.
She's had an affinity for legilimency since she was a child. Her grandmother, though possessing no real magical talent, practiced fortune telling through the use of palm reading. It was thought by some that the 'crazy old lady' could even read their mind.
Rosanna had inherited this particular ability tenfold. She could look into another person's mind without even meaning too. It was more likely that she would slip into their past through physical touch.
A blessing and a curse, her parents argued about constantly. Archer wanted her taught to suppress it, while Dixie believed it was her God given talent, and she should be taught to use it accordingly.
Finally, an eight year old Rosanna, comes to them in tears. 'I don't want it. I don't want to see."
And so she was schooled by Edwin Quincy, a friend of her mother's, who specialized in legilimency and occlumency alike. Teaching her to repress her talents entirely, Edwin himself saw it as a disservice to the girl, but he was paid handsomely and therefore complied with their requests.
It takes the better part of two years, but once her training is over, it's more than worth it.
'Isn't that nice Rosie,' her father coos, pulling her in for a hug which, she no longer shies away from.
She can't hear or see anything that she isn't meant to. Finally, she is at peace.
Until now; a young Draco dances across her mind. Much too young for her to have known him.
By the time she realizes what's happened, or has a chance to stop, she's pushed from his mind. Back to the present, both of them seeing each other, as if for the first time.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Rosanna apologizes immediately.
"How did you do that?" Draco stammers, making no move to withdraw from her.
"I shouldn't be able to. I haven't in years. I'm sorry." She repeats.
"I'm not angry, you surprised me is all." Draco stops her.
"You practice occlumency? You're pretty good. I don't remember ever being thrown out on my ass so fast." Rosanna relaxes marginally.
"One of the few perks of being nephew to Bellatrix Lestrange." Draco explains, reaching out to cup her cheek. Feeling physically ill when Rosanna flinches away.
"Don't," he chokes out, against the lump in his throat. "Please don't. I don't care what you see, none of that matters. I love you, it doesn't matter." Draco insists reverently. "Here, let me show you."
"No Draco-" She pulls her hands away.
"Trust me." His ice blue eyes plead with hers.
Rosanna tentatively touches his face, allowing the images to flood her mind once more.
Draco is five, sitting with Lucius and Narcissa. He wants to play with children his age, the only ones he's allowed are Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, they'll have to do.
Draco receives his Hogwarts letter and Lucius once again drills into him the importance of Slytherin house and how all other houses are less than.
Draco is presented with a wand by Narcissa, 'the best wand.' But seeing as it never had a chance to choose him, it takes a while to give it's allegiance.
Under his father's request, a young Draco attempts to befriend Harry Potter, who is quick to reject his outstretched hand. 'I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.'
Second year their rivalry continues when they become seekers for opposing houses. Calling Hermione a 'filthy little mud-blood,' when she accuses Malfoy of buying his way onto the team.
Then third year, the cheeky girl with the accent. Grading his nerves during their project, worming her way into his dreams, even worse, into his heart.
His fear of rejection, fear of disappointing his parents, fear of caring for her more than he should. Jealously over her friendship with Harry and Ron, being angry for hours if one of them lean in too close or if their eyes linger too long.
The dress crafted with just her in mind, fourth year. Imagining how it would look on her, how the material would feel against her skin. How nervous he was to ask her to the ball to begin with. Hearing Dean Thomas and Fred Weasley debating if Rosanna was actually interested in a prat like Malfoy.
Draco was relieved when she accepted his invitation. Seeing herself through his eyes was odd and strangely intimate. When he kissed her during a slow dance, he felt like he could fly in the absence of a broom or wand.
The summer before fifth year, finally whispering his love for her aloud on her living room couch. 'I love you Draco Malfoy,' being the best thing he's ever heard.
Taking a spot on the inquisitorial squad that fall, to protect Dumbledore's Army, even if it was run by Potter. Ro teaching him to produce a patronus, as it's not a skill they teach in class. Thoughts of her bringing the silver lion to life, bounding off the walls of his dorm room. He's not entirely surprised that his patronus is the same as hers.
That Christmas being the worst of his life, the way her tears threatened his resolve. How many times he nearly crumbled and wrote her during their separation. The way the days seemed to drag on, leaving a Rosanna size hole in his heart.
Pretending he was fine, happy even, that she never meant a thing to him. Lying to his family, biting his tongue when his father made crude remarks about her. Oftentimes laughing through the pain in his chest.
When Lucius is taken to Azkaban, part of Draco is relieved. The other, larger, part is devastated. Despite it all, Draco loves his father. Wanting to reach out to Ro before committing himself to Voldemort, ultimately deciding it was too dangerous.
Being ashamed when she confronts him on the train. Wishing he could scrub the mark off his skin. Hating how nervous and sad Rosanna's eyes are as she leaves, almost calling her back.
Mending the vanishing cabinet, feeling hopeless all the while. Going home for Christmas alone, for the first time in years, and overhearing his mother and aunt.
'It's a baby sissy.' Bellatrix purrs to Narcissa. 'The girl is going to have a baby, within the year. Draco-'
'Is a child.' Narcissa says in disbelief, 'Rosanna is a child.'
Telling Rosanna of their fate, knowing there's nothing he can do. Making love to her on the rugged mattress in the room of requirement. The way she felt pressed against him, the way it felt to be a part of her.
He conjures those memories while she's under his curse. How bittersweet it was to hear her voice, and to know she wasn't truly there.
The anger consuming him, when his mother confirms the pregnancy. Being unable to control his sobs, when he feels the child stir in her belly. Rosanna finally waking up, hoping beyond all hope, she's not disgusted by him, after what's transpired between them.
Instead, she asks if he's ok, if he missed her. She would never understand just how much. Taking nothing for granted and living each day with her to the fullest.
Knowing that during their duel with the trio, she was going to cause a distraction, still being gutted when he hears her scream. How he truly enjoyed waiting on her hand and foot for seven entire days.
Loving her more with each passing second. Reading up on his baby books when he can't fall asleep with her. Dreaming about their son, unbeknownst to Rosanna, hoping for a brown eyed, gryffindor, with her smile.
Watch himself disappear into her mouth, into her core, wondering how he'll ever have enough of her. Wishing he had a ring perfect enough for her finger, when she grasps his forearm. Loving the way she says his name, while he fucks her into the mattress, how she cries a soft 'baby,' into his mouth when she cums for him.
Pouring himself into her, making him feel like she is well and truly his. His to please, his to hold, his to love; for the rest of his days.
Rosanna breaks their connection finally, feeling like she has an entirely new understanding for Draco. "Thank you...for showing me."
He nods. "Anymore skeletons hiding in your closet?"
"Not that I can think of," Rosanna tells him truthfully. "You can do me now." She nods toward his wand on the nightstand.
"I trust you," he shakes his head. "But someday...I'd like to."
"Ok," she kisses him enthusiastically.
"Again?" Draco chuckles, he can't believe his luck.
"Again." She smiles widely.
When they are finished, the pair lie boneless on the mattress. Draco's left arm stretched out, supporting Rosanna's head; she can't help but notice his mark.
Feeling her body tense, Draco leans up to see what's caught her eye. 'Oh,' he realizes quickly, 'that.'
Kissing the side of her face, he withdraws his arm, allowing her head to rest against the pillow instead.
"Where do you think you're going?" She protests.
"I'm the one who has to live with it, not you." Draco explains, clearing his throat. He never considered that the mark might bother her. Because it was a part of him, and she loved every part of him.
"No, I wasn't-" Rosanna breaks off, seeing the exasperated look on Draco's face. "Ok, well I was, but it's not what you think." She explains.
"What then?" He sighs, turning his eyes to the ceiling.
"It's fading, maybe? It looks lighter." The girl explains.
"Trick of the light." He doesn't need to see it, to know it can't fade.
"Will you just look?" Rosanna reaches over him, to flick on the lamp at the bedside table. Her ever growing breasts dangerously close to his face as she does.
"There are other things I'd prefer looking at. What'd you say we forget about this mark business," he nuzzles the soft skin of her collar bone with his nose. "And you let me get you off again?"
"I appreciate your enthusiasm, given the fact that I look, and feel, like an over stuffed sausage," Rosanna sighs, as his fingers spread deliciously over the skin of her hips. "But, you're not getting off the hook that easily."
"Fine," he rolls his pale eyes at her. "And you'll learn to stop speaking about yourself that way or-"
"Or what?" Ro taunts, knowing full well that Draco would never do anything to her. "Your father will hear about this?" She laughs, lightly, at her own joke.
"Piss off," he snorts, moving his forearm under the light. Blinking at it in disbelief; because she's right, it's not half as dark as it was a week ago, or even a day ago.
Rosanna traces it with her finger, "am I right? Or am I right?"
"Dunno." He swallows, unsure if he's imagined it.
"Maybe you should show your Dad. I wonder if his is doing the same thing." Rosanna says, her brows pulled together in confusion.
"Do you often think of my father while we're in bed together? Do you fancy him?" Draco cocks his head to the side, it's his turn to have a laugh.
"You're the worst." She crosses both arms over her chest.
"It's a fair ask." The boy shrugs, with a smirk. "This is the second time you've mention him in the passed five minutes."
Rosanna glares at him with her big brown eyes. "I hate you." She climbs off the bed, tossing her nightshirt over her head.
"Don't be like that darling. You were having a go at me first!" Draco chuckles, redressing in his pajamas. He knows, just as well as she, that hate is a far cry from how she truly feels for him. "And don't I tell you how lovely you are, each chance I get? How beautiful?" He pauses, running his thumb over her full bottom lip.
She sighs, "It's not you. Everything is changing, I'm changing...and I'm afraid you're gonna realize you liked me better the way I was."
"Ro," Draco envelops her in his arms. "Don't you understand? After all you've seen, how can you question my feelings for you?"
A knock a the door startles them apart. "Draco." Lucius calls softly. Not wanting to wake Rosanna if she's sleeping. He found himself going out of his way to make her comfortable, more than he'd like to admit, as of late. Lucius tells himself it's only because of Draco and his grandson, but some part of him knows; he's started to care for the girl.
"You should get that," Ro nods toward the door.
"Suppose I should," Draco agrees, still wrapped up in her.
"Go." She insists.
"Try to rest. I'll wake you if it can't wait until morning." He assures her.
"Ok." She leans up, kissing his forehead.
He bends at the waist, pressing his lips to her belly through the soft fabric of her shirt. "Goodnight Leo."
"Let me see your mark." Lucius holds his own arm between them, for comparison.
Draco listens, pulling up his sleeve. "What's it mean."
"The Potter boy is getting stronger, destroying horcruxes surely. We should have been the ones to turn him over to the dark lord." Lucius seethes into the dimly lit sitting room.
"He doesn't know Potter was here, unless Bellatrix told him." Draco replies.
"Don't be daft Draco, of course she's told him." Lucius knows Bellatrix's allegiance was never to them. "He's not pleased, however the child is of utmost importance."
"Why do you care?" He asks his father. "Why do his bidding?"
"Son, you've heard the stories-"
"I've heard stories about a great man; I have yet to see a great man. I have seen a creature who may have been a man once. Someone who is vile and cruel, whose sole intent is to harm. I don't understand." Draco leans forward in his chair.
"Keep your voice down." Lucius scolds him like a child, but Draco is not a child anymore, his father saw to that.
"I'm not like you, stop forcing it on me. All my life, you were on about blood purity, how we were somehow better; more powerful than blood traitors and half bloods. You must know it's a lie. The woman in that room is better than you, she's better than me, she's better than the lot of us put together. She's not going to stand with him. She chooses to be good, even in the face of losing everything. She is good." Draco annunciates each word.
"Have you considered what will happen if you fail the dark lord?" Lucius asks, reaching the end of his patience. "If you love Rosanna, you'll convince her to swallow her pride-"
"Pride has no part in this." Draco swallows harshly. "I will not force her hand. I will not take the light inside of her and snuff it out."
"Do you think her lot will ever truly accept you?" Lucius tuts. "That they will simply, excuse your past actions? They will always suspect you, never trust you."
"Even if they don't," Draco sniffs, squaring his shoulders. "She's worth it."
"She will die for this Draco, you will die for this." Lucius steeples his hands in front of his mouth, in frustration. "I realize I've been harsh, but never because I don't love you, rather because... I do." Lucius chokes up a bit. "I beg you both; reconsider."