Rosanna is meant to return to the Holyhead Harpies shortly after the birth of their second daughter, Arlo. Instead, at her pre game assessment, the on call doctor determines that she is expected... twins.
Their book is well received, all things considered. They do a tour and book signing, but when they return to the manor...Rosanna isn't herself.
"I feel quite awful, coming to you like this." Draco fidgets with his shirt collar, suddenly feeling constricted in the material. "Our marriage is sacred, I hate to betray her trust. But I don't know what else to do." He explains, seated in the brown leather chair in Rosanna's father's office.
"If you're concerned, Draco...I'd like to help." Archer leans forward. "Ro is special, I'm sure you've noticed. She has always felt everything wholeheartedly, my little girl." The man smiles fondly. "If it makes you feel any better Ron, Hermione and Harry beat you to it. They were in my office about a week ago, expressing their concern."
"What did they say?" Draco shifts.
"They thought she 'looked ill.' 'Not at all like herself.' 'Like she hadn't slept in a fortnight.'" The older man explains.
Draco can deduce which member of the trio had made each comment. "She's been having night terrors, nearly every night. She doesn't want to sleep because of it. Rosanna is an amazing mother, the girls haven't noticed a difference. But I worry, she's quite literally running herself into the ground. I've tried all I can think of," Draco sighs. "But everything that used to help is only taking the edge off."
"Have you ever heard of post traumatic stress disorder?" Archer removes his glasses, running his fingers down the bridge of his nose. "It's seen in soldiers, veterans of war."
Draco shakes his head.
"She's not alone, it's very common. I won't name names, but more than one of her close friends suffer from it as well." Not that Rosanna's father doesn't trust his son-in-law, but it's not his story to tell.
"What happens...if she has it?" Draco asks, nervously.
"The first step is to have an assessment by a professional. But generally speaking, she would go to therapy, maybe they'll prescribe a potion for her to take. Everything is done on a case by case basis, so any care she receives will be especially tailored for Rosanna." The older man explains, patiently.
"But if this is, the stress disorder, from the war. Why wasn't it happening before?" It's been years since the war, years of happiness.
"Everyone is different. Something might have triggered it, or maybe things are resurfacing that her mind may have repressed. I would talk to her son. Have you tried that?" Archer asks.
"I don't want to upset her." Draco runs a finger over his wedding ring. "With the pregnancy and the girls-"
"That's exactly why you should get her the help she needs. She'll be grateful to you in the long run, if not right away."
Narcissa and Lucius began building a mansion on the empty land of the Malfoy property, shortly after Leo was born. They left the manor to Draco and Rosanna before standing trial for their crimes, just in case.
Lucius had served just a year and Narcissa avoided detention all together. She used her husband's sentence to complete their new home.
Subsequently Draco's childhood house received its own drastic make over. He loved the way they made it 'theirs.' With paint, curtains to properly see the sun, a small, intimate, table for family dinners, cooking supplies, music, and most importantly; with love.
They were filling the once dim manor with children all their own. It was everything he'd dreamed it could be.
Soft humming greets his ears as Draco enters the manor. He finds Rosanna and the girls in the sitting room. His wife at the rear, Leo in the middle, Arlo at the front, wriggling with her doll in hand. Ro runs the brush over Leo's platinum locks as the four and a half year old does the same for her little sister.
Arlo sharing the same strawberry blonde tresses as her mother, forming soft curls atop her head. Unlike Leo, the smallest Malfoy has inherited Draco's blue eyes.
"Hello loves." Draco greets quietly, not wanting to startle them.
"Daddy!" Leo waves, making no move to break away from the chain.
Arlo shrieks happily, running over to him. He catches the eleven month old in waiting arms.
Rosanna taps her oldest daughter's shoulder, signaling that she's finished her braid. Lovingly running her fingers over the plait, before Leo charges her father.
"Oof," Draco huffs as she collides with him.
Tangling her arms and legs around one of his legs and holding fast. Like an animal to a tree; giggling wildly all the while.
Rosanna smiles, pushing soft waves behind her ear. Dark circles, under tired brown eyes, she is still the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. "Hey baby. How was lunch? Blaise and Pansy good?"
"Quite well." Draco grins, feeling guilty for lying. "How are you feeling darling? Were these monsters behaving for you?" He turns his eyes to his daughters.
"Perfect angels," Rosanna yawns.
"You should take a rest, I'll fix dinner after a while. I can handle these two." Draco steps toward her, Leo still affixed to his limb, Arlo in his arms.
Rosanna shakes her head, "I'm fine."
"Alright then," he doesn't push. "Shall we put on a movie then? Have some popcorn?"
"Yes, Beauty and the Beast!" Leo demands.
"Again?" Rosanna laughs, that's the fourth time this week.
"It's my favorite Mummy." Leo has an American drawl on about sixty percent of her vocabulary. But Rosanna had always been Mummy instead of Mommy, it's adorable.
"Clearly." Draco chuckles indulgently.
"I'll go pop the corn." Ro pushes herself to her feet.
Arlo and Leo are engrossed in the film when Draco peeks over. His wife sound asleep, Leo moves to Draco's opposite side as Rosanna begins to snore.
"Why is Mummy so sleepy?" The little girl wonders, looking up at her father with wide, brown, eyes.
"Growing a baby in your belly is hard work," Draco explains, tapping her nose. "It makes her tummy upset too sometimes."
"Did I make her sick?" Leo wonders, turning to mother. Arlo cuddled up against Rosanna, little head resting on her chest contently.
"Just a bit." Draco tells her with a smile, "don't freight love, you're worth it."
That night as they ready themselves for bed, Draco notices how Ro hesitates to climb onto the mattress. She stalls as long as she can.
"Love?" He calls her attention from fumbling around the jewelry box.
"Hmm?" She forces a grin, crawling beneath the covers, knowing she's been caught.
"Can I talk to you about something?" Draco sets his book aside.
"Sure," she settles, back against the headboard, "what's up?" Brown eyes fall on him.
"How would you feel about talking to someone about, your dreams?" He moves his hands to her hair, releasing it from the bun she's twisted it into.
"Oh," she snaps her mouth shut. "It's nothing."
"But it is..." He hesitates, "I'm worried sweetheart."
"Ok," Rosanna is taken back and maybe a bit defensive. Pulling away from his touch.
"I can make some calls, find someone. All you'd have to do is show up." Draco drops his arms to his lap.
"And bare my soul to a stranger," she adds bitterly. "What if something is wrong with me?"
"Nothing's wrong with you." Draco says immediately, a little perturbed. "Even if there were, you won't face it alone."
"Would you go too? Not with me, but by yourself?" Rosanna wonders.
"He's hardly a nutter, he doesn't need a therapist. Then again, Ro isn't a nutter either.
'I will love you more than any obstacle that stands in our path. I will love you more than any battle we may face. I will love you more than you have ever been loved. I will pull you back to me, if ever the universe tears us apart.' These are the words he'd whispered against her flushed skin on their marriage bed. This is the promise he'd intended to keep all his life, "consider it done."
Rosanna's first appointment is that Monday, following her dress fitting for Ron and Hermione's wedding.
"Do you think you'll be pregnant again next spring?" Hermione asks as the seamstress takes Rosanna's measurements.
"That's a good question." They hadn't discussed it yet.
"Are you holding out for a boy?" Hermione says playfully. Rosanna's children are a joy, she can have however many she likes, as far as Hermione's concerned.
They hadn't really been 'trying' for either sex. They agreed to a large family. Both being only children left them wanting siblings for their kids.
"I'd like a boy," Rosanna confesses, a little Draco. "But I'll be just as happy with all girls."
"Have you thought anymore about the open position at the Wizengamot?" Hermione wonders, when she heard about the open position Rosanna was the first person to come to mind. "They've been looking for a Legilimensfor a while. I know you'd be brilliant-"
"Can I ask you something?" The words tumble from Rosanna's mouth.
"Anything." Hermione crosses her legs, setting her wedding planner aside.
"Did you ever have...problems, after?"
Hermione meets her eyes in the mirror, twirling the modest, round, diamond ring, Ron had proposed with, around her finger.
"Ron, Harry and I...we really went through it. Not to say you didn't! Well, I've read your book Ro and- What I'm trying to say is I think that we all-" Hermione stumbles around for the right verbiage.
"We're all a little fucked up?" Rosanna offers.
"For lack of a better word, yes. There's no shame in getting help if you need, but there is shame in knowing you need help and ignoring it." Hermione remembers having a similar conversation with her fiancé. "Ron struggles a bit more than I do. But we both see a counselor, it's loads better; talking it out with someone. Sorting through everything, you'll feel better."
"Draco said he'll go too, separately and together. I just don't understand why all of the sudden I can barely sleep without-" Rosanna breaks off, looking down at her feet; because she can barely stand the sight of Hermione.
"What is it Ro?" Hermione demands.
Rosanna shakes her head.
Hermione's mouth twisted to a smirk, to mask her disappointment. "We used to share everything, now you avoid me like the plague. It was nearly impossible to get you here. If you don't mind I'd like to know what I've done-"
"You didn't do anything. I did." Rosanna replies quietly.
"What are you on about Rosanna?" Hermione is officially concerned. "you're not making any sense."
"I can still hear you screaming. I can hear Ron too, in the basement, 'Hermione! Hermione!'" Rosanna breaks off to collect herself. "Losing his mind, trying to get to you. And I sit there, on the nice comfortable bed, in the nice comfortable house; I'm comfortable. Celebrated for conceiving a child that I never really had any part in creating. I don't know what to do. Because if I attack Bellatrix, and I hesitate, or if something doesn't go as planned; then she'll kill you and Ron. She'll call Voldemort and he'll kill Harry. So I sit there, and I do nothing." The blonde shakes her head in frustration.
"You did do something. You summoned Dobby and got us out of there. You pulled the only card you were sure they'd care more about than letting us go. You lied about knowing it was us. You lied about something being wrong with Leo to set us free. You did everything you could. I might not be standing here today if you didn't think fast and use your resources." Hermione comes to stand aside of Rosanna, the seamstress having long disappeared.
"I'm sorry," Rosanna covers the inside of Hermione's left forearm, where 'Mudblood' is scarred on her skin. Rosanna often does the same to Draco's darkmark, which had faded to a crimson outline. Almost as if she were trying to absorb some of the pain from the marking itself.
"This is not your fault." Hermione puts her hand over Rosanna's. "Please don't think I blame you for a second. No one blames you for anything that happened. You casting the healing charm...in that moment, meant everything to me. I struggled with leaving you there, we all did for years. You were our friend and we just...left you." Hermione's voice breaks.
"You couldn't take me with you. You couldn't get to me, even if you wanted too. There wasn't enough time." Rosanna shakes her head.
"We wanted to bring you with us. I should have said something, but it never seemed like the right time. I didn't want to trudge it all up." Hermione purses her lips.
"There was no reason for you to feel guilty all this time." Ro whispers.
"Spoken like a true hypocrite." Hermione cocks her head to the side. "Don't hesitate to come to me next time. We can sort it out together."
"You too," Rosanna wiggles Hermione's arm. "Maybe we could...be close again. Share everything, well, not everything. There's stuff I'd rather not know about Ron."
"Believe me I feel the same about Draco. What's your schedule like today? We can have lunch, catch up." Hermione lights up.
"I'm actually seeing the therapist after this. But what about tomorrow?" Rosanna misses her too.
"I usually eat my lunch in the office, you could come by. Unless it's too much trouble."
"Lunch tomorrow," Rosanna agrees, even though she suspects it's a ploy to get her to consider the Legilimens opportunity. "I'll bring Chinese, if you want."
"Chinese is lovely. I'll be looking forward to it." Hermione tells her truthfully.
Rosanna is not pregnant at Ron and Hermione's wedding. After the birth of their twin daughters, Vega and Polaris, they have their hands full. Draco and Rosanna are out manned, two to one. Both grateful they'd decided to attend counseling. Their relationship as well as their mental health has improved tremendously.
"I can't believe you guys are married," Rosanna laughs, full, happy, and thoroughly intoxicated be the alcohol she's consumed.
They lie horizontally, shoulder to shoulder. Ron and Hermione in the middle, Rosanna and Harry at either end, staring up at the spinning ceiling.
"Can't believe you married Malfoy." Ron remarks, no heat in his voice.
"I can't believe Harry hasn't married Ginny yet." Hermione tacks on, squeezing her husband's entwined fingers.
"I can't believe we're all here right now. Lounging on the ground like children. I can't believe we all made it here." Harry confesses, he's a depressing drunk.
"Way to kill the vibe." Rosanna rolls up onto her left elbow, to see him over the newly wed couple.
"You taking the piss Malfoy?" Harry laughs, moving to look at her.
Rosanna has always been beautiful, brown eyes, strawberries blonde locks, but not to Harry's taste for a lover. Instead a sister, a very dear friend.
"Scared Potter." Rosanna winks at him.
"Alright," Draco busts in from the doorway.
"That's my line." He reaches for her hand.
"No, she's ours." Ron protests.
"Don't take her." Harry scowls.
"We're having a proper cuddle. It's been years." Hermione pulls Rosanna against her side.
Draco squares his shoulders. "She's my wife, therefore she'll only be having a cuddle with me from now on."
"Jealous?" Hermione taunts playfully. "Tell me, does she still taste of strawberries and sunshine?"
"Piss off Granger." Draco huffs a laugh. "Wait...how do you know that?"
"It's Granger-Weasley to you, and don't you tell my wife to piss off." Ron wags a finger at his friends husband. "Only I tell her to piss off." He grumbles. "But how do you know that Mione?"
"Truth or dare, one time," Rosanna shrugs.
"So you two snogged and never thought to mention it." Ron moves to a sitting position.
"It was just a peck, Ronald." Hermione explains, cheeks tinted pink.
"Did you ever...do more than that?" Draco swallows.
"No perv," Rosanna swats at him.
"Honestly you two," Hermione says in exasperation. "Would you like a blow by blow?"
"As a matter of fact, I think we would." Ron says, indignantly crossings his arms.
"I have to find Ginny." Harry excuses himself.
Hermione, emboldened by the alcohol rushing through her bloodstream, turns to face her friend.
Rosanna returns to her back as Hermione leans up. She pushes Hermione's now free, springy, curls behind her ear, with a startling amount of affection.
Hermione leans down, cupping the blonde's cheeks and kisses her soundly on the mouth. Softly, sweetly, before they break apart.
Ron's cheeks are flushed crimson, "oh bleeding hell. Do it again."
Hermione and Rosanna giggle.
Ro looks over at Draco who's come to kneel on the opposite side of her.
Gently he turns her face back toward Hermione, "once more, for science." He encourages.
"Boys," Hermione shakes her head disapprovingly.
Draco and Rosanna attend eight weddings in a matter of two years, which is more inspiring than not. Like the world is finally starting to heal itself.
Harry and Ginny have a son, James, he's perfect, a spitting image of his father.
Even after all the years of being cordial, Draco is nervous to hold the newest Potter.
"Potter doesn't want me holding his boy." He shakes his blonde head.
"Go on Malfoy, you should be a pro by now." Ginny says in good spirits, despite being slightly sleep deprived.
"I am a bloody pro. But I've never held my former nemesis' offspring, it's a bit different." Draco teases, as Rosanna eases the infant into his arms.
"Look how sweet he is." Rosanna coos, stroking the baby's dark hair.
Leo is fascinated by the little boy. Being the oldest she's always been rather maternal to her younger sisters.
Arlo peaks over the blankets as Rosanna moves to hold the identical, platinum blonde, blue eyed little girls, one on each hip, for a better view.
Vega points, Polaris giggles as James wiggles a bit in the blankets and passes gas.
"I think your kid's having a poo on me." Draco scoffs at the irony of it all.
"Well done son." Harry chuckles, kissing Ginny's forehead softly.
Draco turns to Ro, "when are you going to give me another one of these?" He nods to the baby in his arms.
"I thought we were done." Rosanna nearly chokes on her own saliva.
"As many as you'll give me." He murmurs, the baby nuzzling him. Surrounded by his daughters, his wife, dare he say their friends; Draco is the happiest he's ever been.
Rosanna didn't take the position at the Wizengamot when it had been mentioned to her, she needed to get her mind right. But when the job reopens, she all but pounces on it.
The team is thrilled to have her, she works interrogations and makes their job very easy.
This opens doors for Draco within the ministry. He trains under Harry Potter himself and becomes one of the most prestigious aurors the ministry has ever seen. Even still he's never truly trusted or accepted amongst his colleagues.
Rosanna sneaks into his office on her lunch break, decorating the room in baby blue confetti. A bottle with a howler slipped inside sits on his pristine desk.
They'd waited until birth to learn the genders of their other children. But this one was to be their last and Ro was dying to know. So at the appointment to confirm her pregnancy, she finds out.
"We're having a boy!" Draco nearly faints when the card announces the news loudly. "I can't wait to celebrate. I love you!"
Draco reaches out, stroking the blue confetti at the edge of his desk. A son...he was having a son. His heart leaps and then tightens, painfully; this was far different from daughters.
People look at them and see their mother, kindness and bravery and light. People will look at their son and see him, Draco Malfoy, cowardice, cruelty and dark. What a terrible fate to condemn a child.
Then again, the bond Draco had with his mother was second only to that of his wife and children. To be the only son in a family of daughters, to be his mother's boy...to be the youngest child. Loved all his days with an affection meant just for him, their son; sung to sleep each night with a tenderness only Rosanna could give. To know the adoration and wisdom of his father without boundaries. To never be told he must always do better, instead that everything he makes is a masterpiece, every idea to cross his mind is brilliant. To have a proper father... what a beautiful gift to bestow a child.