Written for Sing-Me-A-Rare: The Remix.
Song Prompt: Titanium - Rick Astley
Winner: Admin Pick - Steph
Please note this story contains frank discussions surrounding family planning with respect to Astoria's blood curse which some may find triggering.
Four Years Ago
You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say,
I'm talking loud, not saying much
Tradition was never one of those things that really mattered to me, nor to Draco in the long run.
Look where it had gotten him. Stuck in the middle of a war that wasn't his to fight. Still paying for the sins of his father years later.
Lucius and Narcissa were displeased when Draco chose me as his wife. He went toe-to-toe with them to ensure they knew that this—that I—was it, and there was no room for discussion or dissent.
This was quite the opposite of my parents, who were more than a little enthusiastic considering my… unsuitableness. In the eyes of the elder Malfoys and the Pureblood community at large, I am an unsuitable wife.
The potential of my inherited malediction is always there—this bloodborne curse we are forever living in the shadow of.
The possibility is ever-present, a blight on the future we both envision for ourselves.
Will it manifest? Or will it lie dormant?
We'll never know until it's too late.
"Draco, I know you don't want to discuss this now. But if not now, then when?"
"Astoria, I chose you, recognising it was a possibility we would never have children. We don't need an heir." He rakes a hand through his hair, his angular chin even sharper in his stubbornness. "No matter what my parents might insinuate, it's inconsequential to me."
"Yes, as you've stated before. But are you actually hearing what I'm saying to you?" I look down, my body tensing as I continue. "I don't know how else to tell you this is what I want."
"We don't even know if the malediction will affect you. We can discuss this at a later date."
"But Draco—"
"Not now."
Resigned, I turn to leave. "Unfortunately, time is something we might not have a lot of. This isn't in our control."
"I said, not now."
As he slices his hand through the air and turns his back on me, I know this conversation is over.
In times like this I wish Draco's sense of duty wasn't conflated with his aversion to tradition—but would we even be here today if it wasn't?
Present
You shout it out, but I can't hear a word you say,
I'm talking loud, not saying much
I take my place at the table with a brief acknowledgement, settling the napkin across my lap. "Good Morning."
"Astoria." Draco grits out a curt greeting. "You're looking well this morning." How would he know, when he barely even looks up from his copy of the Daily Prophet?
What had started as a deep love turns into something unrecognisable whenever we row like this.
Love—but tainted like the blood pumping through my veins.
Marred by years of this same old song and dance.
Years of stating my case and outright begging for the chance to bear a child. But the words just fall on deaf ears no matter how loudly I speak. Double contraceptive charms overshadow even the most intimate of moments.
No matter how hard I try to discuss the issue reasonably, Draco shuts me down. Shuts me out.
If Draco had really been paying attention—instead of staying firmly rooted in denial—he would recognise I don't look well.
Haven't looked well.
I can't bring myself to think about what it might mean.
Three Years Ago
I'm criticised, but all your bullets ricochet, Shoot me down, but I get up,
I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose, Fire away, fire away
The Malfoys were here for dinner last night, and Lucius and Narcissa's disdain was evident when Draco said we have no current plans to sire an heir.
Now or in the future.
It's improper.
Unheard of.
What will happen to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black?
This is why we would have never chosen you for our son.
A neverending onslaught of hate for something I want so badly. Have wanted since the day we said, "I do.".
Walking into his study, I see Draco tense as he pretends to read over the parchment covering his desk.
"Draco." I settle my hands on the edge of his desk and draw the courage I need. "I'm tired of you continuing to allow your parents to treat me this way when you are the real obstacle."
His shoulders are taut, and I sense he's bracing for another go. "I'm unsure of what you mean, darling."
"Don't be ridiculous." I snap at him, tears welling in my eyes, but I press on anyway. "We can't keep ignoring this."
Grey eyes meet mine, softening as he observes my growing distress. "Astoria, I'm doing this for you. For us."
"For us?" A sound I don't recognise tears from my throat. "I don't care about our parents—or their expectations—I want a child."
Draco has always been good about hiding his true feelings from others. I suppose it has to do with his upbringing and what he was subjected to as a young adult. Living with a megalomaniac will do that to a person.
He could never hide them from me, though.
I know he has reasons for not considering this request. For not wanting to take this step. And he's going to tell me this time because I'm tired of not being able to face the problem head-on.
No matter how many times he adjusts the contents atop his desk, I stand here, unwavering in my pursuit. "Why don't you want me to have a child? Help me understand."
"I want you. There's no way to be certain the malediction will even present, but I'm too selfish to risk it."
I've always suspected there were other factors in play, but of them all, fear wasn't one I had considered. But there it is, clearly on display
"That's no way to live, Draco. We shouldn't let this blood curse dictate our lives." Struggling to keep my disappointment at bay, I pull away as he shifts towards me. "Imagine the joy that would come to us. We have nothing to lose."
As soon as the words are out of my mouth, his mask slips back into place. I know I've said the wrong thing, and no forward progress will be made this time.
"I'm just not ready, Astoria. I'm uncertain I'll ever be." He stands to leave, and I'm left alone in the study.
Present
Ricochet, you take your aim, Fire away, fire away,
You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium
We've been at this for years, and I'm fucking tired of his bullshit.
Always evading.
Falling back on the same old symphony.
I'm not ready.
I'm a selfish man.
The Malfoy line can end for all I care.
"I can't believe it's taken me all this time to realise," I say, not holding back. "You aren't just selfish; you're a fucking coward."
At the vitriol in my voice, Draco visibly recoils, and I know we are maybe—maybe—getting somewhere.
"Astoria."
"Don't Astoria me. I'm tired of arguing with you, tired of being shot down with empty words and hollow deflections." Resigned, I slump onto the chaise at his side.
"There's so much that we—" We lock eyes as he stumbles over his words. "You're my—"
His throat bobs, and he looks away.
"I understand." Reaching over, I slide my palm into his and lace our fingers. "I'll never give up on this. I'm strong enough for this right now."
"I can't lose—"
As he struggles to formulate his thoughts and we fall into silence, it's apparent he's not going to continue.
"Please listen when I say this. What happens if a time comes and I'm too weak? I want to be a mother, Draco. If something were to happen to me, I want you to have someone. Have a part of me even if I'm gone." I pause, and my voice drops. "I may not be able to forgive you for that. If you take this from me."
He squeezes my hand, so I'm aware he's still listening. Invested and not indifferent. Over time, I've learned Draco has never been one to do things without committing fully, so I know getting him there will take all of me and then some.
"You've never been able to face hard truths head-on, and based on your past, I can't blame you entirely. We've argued about this for the last five years, and I need you to think about this long and hard; there's no room for self-preservation, Draco. Please, I won't let you run from this."
Initial signs of presentation are there, but nothing is definitive.
Loss of appetite.
Sharpened sight.
Skin tightening.
The Greengrass grimoire indicates that even if the malediction is no longer dormant, we still have time.
He still has time to work through his underlying issues. But not much.
As I stand and make to leave the room, I'm hoping he'll come around before it's too late.
Two Years Ago
You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium,
Cut me down, but it's you, Who'll have further to fall
The time in between our fights has begun to stretch.
If Draco truly isn't ready, I can't force him to change his mind.
No matter what I say or how I say it, he continues to undercut my arguments and attempt to dictate what I can do with my own body.
Today's conversation, though, left me curled up in our bed chambers, replaying how it went.
He led me over to the chaise in our favourite sitting room and pulled my feet into his lap.
"I've been thinking a lot about what you've said and what we know about the blood curse. Even if it stays dormant, the grimoire shows you likely won't live a full life. Do you ever think about what we could do with that extra time?"
It has taken us years to get to this point.
For Draco to slowly show the vulnerabilities he'd been hiding regarding my fate.
Sometimes it makes me feel as though he actively misses out on the time we do have in his misguided pursuit of securing more time.
The time we spend fighting.
Making up.
Mending the hurt.
What cut me the deepest was when he shifted me into his lap and admitted, "In the end, Stori, it's your life at stake. You have more to lose than I do. There's a chance having a child will seal your fate, and I can't fathom being responsible for that."
The words play over and over in my head while I cry into the pillows. Getting what I want the most means bringing hurt to the one I love the most.
Present
Ghost town and haunted love, Raise your voice,
sticks and stones may break my bones
The first time the malediction physically manifests, we are out in Diagon Alley.
Madam Malkin's, to be exact.
We are to attend a Society event in one month's time, and we both need new formal robes.
After our last major row, Draco has been making more effort to be present, so we've decided to make the trip together.
As we'd walked arm-in-arm through the Alley, I couldn't help but notice a slight discomfort where our bodies met, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.
Or so I'd believed.
While making my rounds and browsing the selection, I find myself unconsciously scratching my left arm. The shopkeeper hands me items he's helped me to select.
Draco gravitates towards my side, and the attendant excuses himself to prepare my changing room.
"Are you feeling well, Stori?" He places a hand on my hip and leans in to murmur in my ear. "You look a bit waxen, and your eyes appear unfocused—cloudy even."
I give his hand a quick squeeze to reassure him—perhaps myself too, and for good measure I add, "I feel just fine. Thank you, love."
As I slip into the changing room, Draco steps into the adjacent one.
Dismissing the attendant, I disrobe entirely and to my horror, a section of skin spanning my wrist to shoulder sloughs off and falls to the ground.
Sinking to the floor in my undergarments, I do my best to sound collected as tears begin to fall.
"Draco." My voice quavers despite my attempts to remain calm.
He's through the curtain and by my side in an instant. "Astoria, what's wrong? "
"I—" A sob rips through my chest as I try to vocalise what's occurring.
Cradling my arm to my chest, I pinpoint the moment his eyes catch on the moulted skin, a stark contrast within my midnight robes.
"Is that—"
"Yes."
The colour drains from his face, and he grips my shoulders, suddenly angry. "I can't believe you've kept this from me. How long has this been happening?"
"It's the first time this has occurred, Draco. I've only felt off for the last month or so, I swear—" At my hesitation, he realises there's more. "—I didn't realise how quickly it would move once it had presented."
I've never seen Draco look as serious as he does now. A thousand emotions flash and flicker unchecked across his maskless face as the weight of our reality sinks in.
"Fuck, Astoria. You're it for me, haven't you realised?" He wipes the tears from my eyes and presses a gentle kiss on my lips. His voice cracks as he whispers, "This love will haunt me once you're gone. I can't—won't—spend my life with anyone else."
Pulling me up in silence, I can see how tortured he is this close up.
Together we take in the shiny fresh skin and even though it's perfect, I can't help but treat it with caution. As understanding dawns on him, Draco moves to grab my robes and he begins the process of redressing me, helping me right my make-up.
Exiting the shoppe, we entwine our fingers, cognizant our whole world has shifted.
One Year Ago
I'm talking loud, not saying much, I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose,
Fire away, fire away, Ricochet, you take your aim
I'm no longer hung up on fighting with Draco about whether or not I want a child—he knows the answer. We had silently chosen to forgo discussions while he worked on himself, on his ability to recognise the self-sabotage at play.
It's a beautiful summer day when I'm finally brave enough to broach a new topic.
What if?
I've spent so long arguing with him and not giving much in return, I decide to try a different approach.
"Draco?" Lying together in the garden of our estate, I lift up onto my elbows to catch his gaze. "You asked me last year if I thought about what I'd do—what we might do—with more time."
Brows furrowed, he moves closer, likely remembering everything else we discussed. "Yes, I remember."
"What if I don't have time either way?"
Swiping a hand down his face, he admits, "I… I think about it all the time."
"I'm already frail; I have been all my life. I've begun to consider the malediction might affect me no matter what. I'm uncertain I would survive a full transformation if it were to ever occur."
"We can cross that bridge when we get there, Stori," Draco murmurs as he shifts me onto his chest. "I'm not prepared to lose you yet, but I have been listening over the years. I promise I'm still listening."
Present
Fire away, fire away, You shoot me down,
but I won't fall, I am titanium
Our return trip home through Diagon has been a silent, sombre affair.
Once we are through the Floo, Draco drops to his knees and wraps his arms around my midsection, careful of my fragile state. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? I wouldn't have dragged my feet for so long on this."
"I couldn't have this be the reason why you changed your mind." Trying my best to soothe his hurt, I card my fingers through his hair. "I needed to be certain you actually want this, Draco."
Glaring at me, he bit out, "How am I supposed to make an informed decision without all of the facts, Astoria? I was trying to protect you the best way I knew how given what I knew."
Knowing his anger is justified allows me to finally reveal my own rationale. "So much of your life has been dictated by external factors, and I couldn't bear the thought that my fate—this curse—would take this choice from you too."
"I chose to be with you, knowing full well that one day this could be our life. I actively choose you every day when I wake. " As Draco rises to his feet, I can see the tracks of his tears. "I've wasted so much of our time together pretending this wasn't happening—this wasn't a real outcome we'd face. I'm so sorry to have done this to us—to you."
"You haven't done this to us. It was predestined, and you dealt with it how you were raised to. I understand—have always understood accepting this meant accepting the reality I will die much sooner than we both hoped."
Briefly brushing my hand across his cheek, I lift up on my toes and bring him into my embrace.
I don't care how much time passes with us this way, he needs this. We both need this after all we've been through.
This is the final hurdle Draco needs to acknowledge—acceptance can come later—before we move forward with this decision.
"I love you, Astoria Malfoy. I would never begrudge you a child." Pressing one, two kisses to my face, he brings his forehead to mine. "Together, we can take anything thrown our way."
Twelve Years Later
You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium
As we cross onto Platform 9 ¾, a day we were unsure I'd ever see, I watch Scorpius take everything in for the first time.
The families, the commotion, the magic of it all.
From the corner of my eye I see Draco nod curtly to another person on the platform before he kneels down and directs his attention to Scorpius.
Allowing Draco to say his goodbyes, I use the time to absorb everything I can. A day will come where it will be just them here, without me.
With a final kiss to his brow before he steps into the train car, I make sure to remind him, "Don't forget to purchase sweets from the Trolley Witch. They always help you make friends."
In choosing to move forward and expanding our family, we elected this path despite the inevitable damage it would cause. We chose to never let this curse define us—or our actions—again, and Draco has never resented me for how our lives have turned out thus far.
Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and the years spent watching him grow have been nothing short of a miracle.
Bearing witness to Draco as the father he never had, stepping into the role fluidly and with ease, has been worth every fight and each stilted moment passed between us on our path to get here.
United in the face of adversity.
With Scorpius.
Resilient.
Fin.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this creation.
Much love to my Alpha/Beta Maloreiy for helping me plan and execute this crazy idea of mine through the night and right up until the deadline. This wouldn't be what it is without you!