Please note: The first section of this chapter takes place BEFORE Draco finds out about the Fertility Potion.

Astoria — 25th June 2007

It had been a week — one full, complete week — since Draco had found out about the Obliviation.

I was living in hell again. But, this time around, it was somehow worse.

He had stayed at The Leaky Cauldron for nearly the whole week, only dropping in to see Scorpius once a day. We'd barely spoken, other than the time he'd told me things were over between us.

Two days ago, when he stepped through the Floo with all his things, my heart momentarily sped up, foolishly believing that he might have chosen me — wanted me — only to be smashed to pieces once more.

He'd moved into our guest bedroom and barely spared me a glance, even when he bumped into me wearing nothing but a towel. His indifference cut me to the bone, especially after a year of close contact between us. If I'd never felt Intimacy with him, I wouldn't have missed it now. For the thousandth time, I hated myself for what I'd done.

Draco wasn't happy, and neither was I.

When I heard him moving around the house this morning, I knew he was going back to work — back to seeing her every single day — and I started seething again. I didn't understand how he could forgive her, but not me.

As soon as I heard the Merlin-be-damned coffee pot start up, I climbed out of bed, squeezing my eyes shut when I immediately got dizzy. In an attempt to steady myself, I settled one hand back on the mattress and waited for it to pass.

When it finally did, I wrapped myself in a dressing gown and slowly made my way downstairs, stepping into the kitchen.

"Good morning," I greeted, trying to act as normal as possible. "Going back to work today?"

Draco nodded. "I am. I need to wrap up the case I've been working on."

"Will you be home for dinner tonight?"

It took him far longer than it should've to answer the simple question, the same way it had years ago.

"I'm not sure. I'll be catching up on things since I was out of the office for a week," he began, pausing to pour his coffee and take a sip. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

Breathing deeply, I gathered my courage and said, "Your parents have been asking about you. They haven't heard from you in nearly a week. I thought maybe—"

He glared at me over the edge of the mug, silencing me.

"I'm not ready to speak to them again."

"You shouldn't punish your mother—"

"Fine," he corrected, setting the mug down and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not ready to speak to my father yet, and I can't listen to her defend him. "

"You're speaking to me," I pointed out. "And you're speaking to Hermione. We're just as guilty as your father in all this."

"Astoria, I have to speak to you. We're co-parenting our son."

"And Hermione? Why are you speaking to her?"

I knew I was playing a dangerous game by pushing these buttons, but I needed him to think clearly, to realise he was being unreasonable.

"She has all my memories and I want them back," he replied. "Believe me, I wish I didn't have to speak to her, but the last memory she showed me triggered me to remember more. I can't view them alone if that's going to happen. I essentially blackout."

Draco's anger was clear; he wasn't lying to me.

"She could've said no to your father, you know."

"And you could have tried speaking to me about the affair instead of going to him for help," he snapped. "You all were in the wrong. Hell, Astoria, even I was in the wrong. I shouldn't have stayed married to you whilst carrying on with Granger."

His maturity shocked me. In the past, he wouldn't have admitted that he was also at fault.

"That's exactly my point! We all contributed to this situation, so holding a grudge against one person—"

"Stop," Draco said, holding up a hand. "You know my relationship with my father is complicated at best since the war."

"Your parents love you more than anything," I told him, hoping it would lead him to mend things with Narcissa at the very least.

Shrugging, he swallowed more coffee. "They have a strange way of showing it. Always have."

"Draco—"

"Just stop," he cut in. "I will speak to them when I'm ready to, and not a moment before."

Chastened, I looked away, my eyes focusing on the tiled floor and the dark wood of the kitchen cabinets he was leaning against. His trousers were perfectly pressed and his shoes shined like they were brand new. He was immaculate, as always.

This version of him — Auror Draco Malfoy — appeared perfect in every way, even though he was far from it. Affairs, mistresses, lies and long hours… Gorgeous, but dangerous.

He made my head spin and brought unnecessary stress into my life.

"Can you and I at least call a truce? Talk some things over?"

Considering my question, he looked away.

"We've already called a truce. We're living under the same roof. There's been no arguing."

"It's been a day and a half and you've hardly even looked at me, let alone spoken to me about anything serious," I stated.

Draco sighed. "Honestly, if not for Scorpius, I would've left and never spoken to any of you again."

"Okay, but we have Scorpius, so you're not going to do that," I began carefully, knowing I could very easily push him away for good. "You're going to need to mend fences with everyone. I can't imagine you'll just cut all of us out of your life."

After a moment, he looked straight at me. "I don't have to mend fences with anyone. All of you need to understand that until I know exactly what happened, it's going to be impossible for me to forgive any of you."

With that, he downed the remainder of his coffee and headed towards the Floo.

"So, what? You just expect me to sit around and wait for her to show you years of memories? I don't know what happened between you and Hermione, not really, so it's not like I can tell you myself!"

He paused, looking at me over his shoulder, part of his pushed-back fringe falling down onto his forehead. "Honestly? I don't expect you to wait. I told you that this marriage is over. You and I built what we had the past two years on lies. We weren't really even friends before, if my understanding is correct."

For the hundredth time in a week, my eyes filled with tears. "You're right."

"I don't know if I can commit to it right now," he said tentatively, "but, with some time, maybe we could figure out how to do that — how to be friends. For Scorpius' sake. I don't want to fight with you for the rest of my life, Astoria."

I pulled my dressing gown around me tighter, like it could protect me from the ice in his eyes and stop the trembles that racked my body.

"I don't want to fight, either."

He nodded. "Good. I'll see you later."

"See you later."

As soon as he vanished through the green flames, I let myself collapse into a chair and cry.

"Mama!" Scorpius shouted, waving his little utensils in the air.

It was going on seven in the evening and we were sitting in the kitchen, eating the meal the manor elves had brought us for dinner.

"Yes, Scorpius?" I cooed, trying to get him to speak more quietly. My head was pounding and I felt nauseous and weak. "What do you need?"

"More!"

Of all the things he'd eaten tonight, I knew there was only one he'd want more of. I put another spoonful of mashed potatoes on his tray and went back to reading over a gossip piece in the evening Prophet.

We'd spent our day in the house. After my conversation with Draco and my crying jag, I hadn't felt like doing much of anything. I was feeling drained from the stress, and I just kept replaying made-up arguments over and over in my mind.

I was well and truly losing it.

A few minutes later, the Floo glowed green and Draco stepped through, looking exhausted just as exhausted as I felt.

"I saved a plate for you," I said with a smile, trying to engage him. "How was your day?"

When he looked at me, I could see the anger in his eyes.

Almost immediately, he summoned an elf, and that made me even more nervous.

"Can you please give Scorpius a bath and get him ready for bed?" Draco asked, and the elf nodded.

At the sound of Draco's voice, Scorpius screeched, "Dada! Dada!"

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. I was surprised; he never grew frustrated or annoyed with Scorpius. Usually, he lit up at his acknowledgement.

A heavy weight — dread — settled into my stomach.

"Hey buddy," he said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "Cherie is going to give you a bath and then Dada will come see you. Is that alright with you?"

Lifting him from the high chair, Cherie said, "Master Scorpius will be fine with Cherie. We's done this before. You eats a good dinner, Master Draco."

When he looked over at me again, I felt the temperature of the room drop, goosebumps erupting on my skin. Something bad — worse than bad — had happened today. I thought back to the conversation we'd had this morning, and I knew the chances of us being friends were dwindling, if not already destroyed.

Once Cherie had Disapparated with Scorpius, he said, "I'm going to ask you something and I expect an honest answer."

I swallowed hard, wondering what else he could have discovered.

"Okay," I replied quietly. "Ask me anything."

"Did you know I was trying to track down an illegal potioneer?"

My heart sped up. "No."

"Well, that's the case I've been working on since I've been back at work," he explained, his voice straining as he held back his anger. "Do you happen to remember Marcus Belby?"

Looking away, I said, "What did he tell you?"

"Did you buy potions from him, Astoria?" Draco asked.

I sighed. "I'm assuming you already know the answer to that question if you're asking it."

"What did you buy?"

"Well, it wasn't his uncle's Wolfsbane, obviously."

He took a few steps closer and said, "Look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes and tell me you took a fertility potion."

I could smell the firewhisky on his breath, likely fuelling his anger and giving him the liquid courage he'd needed to come here and confront me. He wasn't drunk, but he certainly wasn't sober, either.

"Fine," I replied, tilting my head back. "On our first anniversary, I took a fertility potion. I got you to sleep with me by making you feel guilty and we conceived our son. But don't worry, Draco. I let you run back to your girlfriend the very next day."

"How could you do that?" he snarled, banging a fist on the dining table. "How could you manipulate me into getting you pregnant?"

I laughed bitterly. "It was easy enough." At his glare, I continued, "It's not like you weren't an active participant in the process."

Taking a step back, he said, "And did you use a love potion, too? A spell—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I didn't need those things."

"How could you—"

Rising to my feet, I crossed my arms over my chest and cut him off. "How could you have an affair? How could you just marry me and then not even try to make it work? Especially after you kept me waiting for years!"

He didn't reply.

"And another thing — how could you just lie and lie and lie? Over and over again, every single time I'd asked you where you'd been! What did I ever do to deserve that?"

"Why would you do that?" he asked, pointedly ignoring my question. "If we weren't happy, why would you want to bring a child into the middle of it?"

Now, over two years after the fact, I could see it had been a crazy idea but, in a roundabout way, it had worked.

"Because it was the only way, or I thought it was the only way. I was desperate, Draco. You never even gave our marriage a chance."

Running his fingers through his hair, he turned around, leaving me staring at his back. He was wearing Muggle attire again and the thin shirt stretched over his arms and shoulders as he moved.

"When it really comes down to it," he began, his voice calm and quieter than it had been before, "I never should have agreed to marry you. Not after I'd slept with Granger the night before the wedding. I should've called it off."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew it was the truth, but it hurt nonetheless.

"You agreed to marry me long before that," I replied. "You should have turned her away — the first time and every single time after that."

Noticing the bottle of wine on the counter, he slowly made his way over and summoned a clean glass from a nearby cabinet. I wanted to tell him that the last thing he needed was more alcohol but I held my tongue.

"Maybe that's true," he said, pouring himself a portion and then drinking deeply. "I should have turned her away, but I'm a selfish bastard, Astoria. I've always fancied her, and I couldn't pass up the chance."

He wasn't telling me anything that I didn't already know, so I was able to keep my expression passive.

Draco turned to face me again. "I didn't think she would ever give me the time of day, let alone have a relationship with me."

"I know," I answered. "I know you well enough to understand why you didn't approach her before we were married."

"Here's what I don't get. If I was like this from the beginning, why would you want to try to fix things? Why get pregnant?"

Swallowing a sob, I twisted my hands together.

"You were my plan. My whole life. That contract was written before I even had a chance to consider anyone else. I didn't get a mastery or a job like Daphne did. I just waited for you to be ready."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, but that's not a reason to lie and manipulate me! Getting pregnant solely to trap me—"

"It wasn't only that!" I interrupted. "I've always wanted to be a mother and I was sick of putting my life on hold and just hoping that you got your head together! I waited until I was in my twenties for you to decide if you wanted to uphold the contract or not!"

"Fine," he snapped. "There was more than one purpose to it."

My hands settled on my hips. "Scorpius is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Do you not feel the same way?"

"I love my son. Don't twist this and act like I don't," Draco replied angrily. "But since we were not in a good place as a couple—"

Unable to hold back, I shouted, "Because of her! Weren't you happy over the past two years? We've been good together! When it was just the three of us, everything was fine. It's only when she's in the picture that you're not satisfied with our life!"

Again, he looked away, seemingly staring at the still-life painting on our wall. "The past two years, even if I didn't know exactly what, I knew something was wrong. Something or someone was missing. The happiness you're talking about… it wasn't real for me."

"It was," I replied. "If you had stayed away from her, you would have had a chance at something real. We would have had a chance at something real."

"No, we wouldn't! I'd always feel like there was something missing. I'm not willing to give up my job again. I'm not willing to try and be someone else—"

"But that's what you've been doing!" I grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to face me. "Since the end of the war, you've been trying to be a new person — not a Malfoy—"

"Stop," he cut in, his voice angry again. "Since the war, I've become my own person. I don't let my surname define me, just like your sister or Pansy."

Since the beginning of this conversation, I'd been poking at his sore spots, but I didn't care. I kept at it, letting out a humourless chuckle.

"You've been trying so hard to be the opposite of what a Malfoy is supposed to be that you've lost yourself," I said, taunting him. "Instead of taking control and coming out on top — getting what you want — you've been afraid."

"I'm not doing this with you, " Draco replied. "You're turning things around on me. This was supposed to be about you and the things you've done."

"Like giving birth to our son? Trying to save our marriage by getting rid of your whore?"

His fists clenched at his sides and I knew he was already starting to forgive her, to fall in love with her all over again. His reaction was too strong for it to be as a result of anything else.

"Hermione was not my whore!"

When he slipped up and used her first name, I saw red.

"Expensive trips, jewelry, books… There are payments other than Galleons—"

"I was in love with her, Astoria! Those things were given out of love. They weren't payment," he shouted. "And we already discussed this today! You never even spoke to me about Granger—"

"Like you would've listened—"

"And bringing a child into the world to repair a relationship isn't the right thing to do! Regardless of anything else!"

"Do you really think things would've been different if I'd spoken to you?" I asked, though it was more rhetorical than anything else. "Do you think you would've given her up?"

"I honestly don't know," Draco said, still glowering at me. "But it doesn't make what you did right."

"I never said it was right," I stated. "But, at the time, I wanted my husband to stop having an affair and I thought that you'd love a child more than you loved her. And if I were the one to give you the child, maybe you'd love me too."

Tangling his fingers in his hair, Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "So what else are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing."

"Excuse me if I don't fucking believe that."

I decided to be brave and approach him. When I settled my hand in the crook of his elbow, he opened his eyes and I could see how hurt he actually was.

"Draco, I'm not hiding anything else, and your father isn't either," I reassured. "The fertility potion was the last thing. I swear."

"My father knew about the potion?" he asked, and I nodded in response. My hand was still on his arm and I considered it a good thing that he hadn't pulled away yet.

"He knew after the fact," I explained, not wanting him to believe it had been Lucius' idea. "When I told you I was pregnant and you ran, I went to him and told him everything about the first year of our marriage."

"But Granger didn't know."

His words were a statement, not a question, and he finally shrugged my hand off. I watched as he refilled his wine glass, drank deeply, and moved to the window, gazing out into the fading light. The sun was setting, the sky glowing orange and red through our window panes.

Again, he murmured, "She didn't know. She thought... Fuck."

Since he'd been Obliviated, I'd watched him struggle with not knowing, with trying to find the bits and pieces of his old life. But now he knew why he couldn't remember them. With each new splinter of knowledge, he was trying to complete the connections in his mind and figure out what had really happened, piece together the fragments of who he used to be and the events that had shaped him.

I saw his shoulders stiffening, the tightness of his posture. One arm moved above his head and rested on the windowpane. He leaned forward, his forehead pressing against his covered forearm. The knuckles of the hand holding the wine glass were turning white, the skin stretched over them blanching.

The lights in the house flashed, dimming and brightening as his magic struggled to settle. He stayed like that for a few minutes and I couldn't make myself look away.

"She didn't fucking know," he growled, quickly turning and throwing the wine glass at the opposite wall. "She didn't know that we weren't having sex regularly. I never told her. That's why she did this to me when she found out you were pregnant."

"Draco!" I yelled, seeing the rage rippling off him in waves. "You need to relax! Your magic—"

Again, the lights flashed, the energy in the room peaking and surging with his anger. I fed off his power, vanishing the shards of glass with my wand, cleaning up the mess he'd made over her just like I always had. His eyes fell on me and I could see the hatred, clear as day. It had never been there before.

"I should take Scorpius and never let you see him again, you manipulative bitch," he said, moving closer and making me nervous. "You used him as a pawn. You thought you could control me with a child."

Taking a step back, I whispered, "I suppose that's true to an extent. I thought you'd stop—"

"And you wanted to do it again. Every time you've asked for another baby, it's been because someone mentioned her or because you thought I was getting close to her again."

"I did want another, though. It wasn't only because of her!"

Draco laughed, his emotions swaying wildly, the alcohol making him even more unsteady. "Astoria, have you learned nothing?"

"What do you mean?"

"A baby didn't fix this — didn't make me stop — the first time around," he replied. "Why the fuck did you think another one would keep me in line?"

Foolishly, I released the hold I'd been keeping on my emotions. Tears streamed down my face and I struggled to take in breaths.

"I don't know, Draco," I admitted, the words leaving my lips shakily. "But, honestly, I hoped that a family would make you as happy as it made me."

"I can't do this," he snarled. "I can't listen to your silly delusions."

"Delusions?"

Looking straight at me, he said, "We were never happy together. How can you pretend that you've found joy in this marriage?"

"I was happy until you decided to go back to work!"

As he threw his hands up in the air, he said the words I'd been dreading to hear. "Well, I wasn't! I didn't love you, Astoria! Not when we married, not after the Obliviation."

At that, I simply nodded, knowing he was hurt and looking to hurt me in return. I didn't need him to tell me he'd never loved me — I already knew.

But it still cut me down, made me bleed.

"Are you done?" I asked, wiping my eyes. "Can I go put our son to bed now?"

Walking past me, he moved to the stairs. "I'll put him to bed. Why don't you go and spend time conspiring with my father? Or dreaming up another way to coerce me into sex?"

I wanted to argue with him, but I was exhausted. In my mind, I said every hateful thing I could think of, told him that he'd ruined me, that he'd killed every single dream I'd ever had of a happy life.

And then I realised I'd likely done the same to him.

Lucius — 26th June 2007

As I stood on the balcony watching the sun appear over the treetops, I sipped yet another glass of firewhisky. I was fairly certain my blood alcohol level had been at a ridiculous level for the past two days, but I couldn't be bothered to care.

A week had passed, and we still hadn't heard from Draco. Honestly, I wasn't surprised, but I had held out hope that he would at least want to talk things through. If not with me, then with his mother…

But, as far as I knew, he hadn't even reached out to her yet. Astoria hadn't been coming around, and I was afraid he'd told her we weren't allowed to see Scorpius. It wouldn't surprise me if he did keep his son away from the Manor; it had been the scene of the worst moments of his life.

He was marked in the drawing room.

He was tortured in the dining room.

He was Obliviated in one of the bedrooms.

As I listed all these things out in my mind, I took another sip of firewhisky, trying to numb the guilt that somehow managed to break through the fog in my mind.

Of course, Narcissa wasn't speaking to me — wouldn't even look at me — and she'd decided to put on the dramatics, moving into one of the vacant bedrooms in the family wing. The elves made a production of emptying her closets and moving all of her things. She'd done the same thing during the war, but this time felt different.

This time, I had a true choice, and I actively decided to take everything away from Draco. I had chosen to risk my relationship with both my son and wife.

And I'd lost the gamble.

Glancing down towards the grounds, I saw the gardens in full bloom, the peacocks lazily stirring from their slumber. I envied their ability to sleep peacefully; I hadn't been able to sleep for more than two consecutive hours in over a week, even with the near fatal amount of firewhisky I'd consumed.

My eyes focused on the blood red roses that climbed the trellis beside the balcony. Much to her mother's horror, Narcissa had insisted on red roses as our wedding flowers. Druella's words — garish, gaudy, violent, bloody, lurid, Gryffindor — echoed through my mind, but then I heard Narcissa's.

Passion. Love. Romance. Warmth. Beauty. Strength.

Eventually, she'd shown her mother a book on floral messages, putting a stop to the argument. And I could still see Narcissa moving towards me, her hands full of classic red and white roses, her long white gown trailing behind her. I loved her, plain and simple. She looked perfect, her smile wide with lips painted the same colour red as the flowers.

Guilt flowed through me as I thought of our wedding day. I had promised to always put her first, to make sure she was always safe and happy and cared for.

I'd failed during the war, and I was failing now.

And Draco — I could hardly think about how my choices had affected his life without wanting to throw myself from the balcony. Every single time I made a decision that was supposed to keep my family together, to keep us all safe, it only ended up tearing us apart.

Grasping the tumbler in my hand more tightly, I tried to think of a way out of this situation. There had to be something I could do to fix things.

But my brain was clouded, unable to think analytically. Only the wisps of memory, of how I'd screwed up, came forth easily. The Cruciatus Curse was less painful than watching all of my mistakes play out in my mind's eye.

I had to refocus, to get sober and figure out how to fix things with Draco. I knew I wouldn't be able to fix things with Narcissa until I'd made a start on repairing my relationship with my son.

For a moment, I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my elbows against the railing, my hands and the tumbler hanging over the edge.

And then I looked down and let it drop, the crystal shattering against the pavers, firewhisky splashing up and staining the surrounding area.

Pushing away from the railing, I stalked into the Manor, stripping my clothes off and sliding between the cold, empty sheets.

When I woke, I'd figure out how to fix this.