Disclaimer - All hail JKR. Ain't mine.
A/N - The ayes have it - here's Chapter Two!
No matter how bad of a day Draco had at the Ministry, he could always count on his home life to soothe his nerves. Slighted by colleagues holding a grudge? Buried under busywork? Had to endure someone passing unearthly amounts of gas in the elevator? Not a problem. Being around his loving family always helped.
When he got home this evening, he immediately decided he would have to retire the "always." Peace and harmony seemed to have taken a powder. Dinner was ready when he got there, and Scorpius was bursting to tell him about his day. However, something was definitely off about his darling spouse. She had that crease in her forehead that appeared on the rare occasions when she didn't know the answer to a problem, and her bottom lip was red and raw-looking in one spot. If he had married a vapid Pureblood, he would assume she had spent too much money on fripperies. This was Hermione Granger, though (Granger-Malfoy to him), and when she looked worried, he knew it was serious. He quickly catalogued the house and determined there were no mountain trolls or Dark Lords roaming the premises. Nor, thank Merlin, any Weasleys. Potter was handling his own problems these days with the Weaselette's assistance, so that wasn't it, either. The man of the house sighed, and immediately began considering ways to turn the situation to his advantage. If he appeared understanding enough, and improved her mood, well...maybe she would improve his evening. He wiggled his eyebrows at the thought, and she didn't even notice. Crap. This was going to be bad.
Unearthly amounts of gas were starting to look more attractive by the second.
Dinner conversation started innocuously enough, but eventually Scorpius told his father about the brooms at the Quidditch supply store, and the wonderful candies at Honeydukes:
"...and there were Fizzing Whizbees, and Bertie Botts' Beans, and Chocolate Frogs, and Sugar Quills and tons of other things! Mummy even grabbed one of each before she took me to the register. We left there kind of quick; a weird old man kept staring at us. And then we went to the park, and-"
Draco cut in at this point, wanting to know more about the stranger. His eyes darkened and his lips thinned as his son described the man as having hair the color of his own and Daddy's, but it was really long, and he carried his nose up in the air. Draco raised an eyebrow at his wife, who took a sip of wine and said nothing.
"And then we went to the park, and I made a new friend named Ab. And I fell off the slide, but I flew! Isn't that brilliant?"
Daddy said that he didn't think "brilliant" began to cover it, and wasn't it time for all good children to be in bed? Hermione went to get up to take Scorpius for a bath, but she was circumvented by her husband ringing for the house elf (again, freed), and turning over the chore to her.
"But Daddy, Mummy always puts me to bed!" Scorpius broke out his best pleading look. No dice.
"Don't worry, darling, I'll be up to say goodnight once you're in tucked in. Promise." She was nibbling her lip again.
Their offspring wasn't out of the room for 30 seconds before the interrogation began.
"Alright, woman. Out with it."
"As Scorpius told you, we were in Honeydukes. I felt like I was being watched, turned around, and there was your father. He wasn't saying or doing anything improper, but he was completely fixated on our son. Scorp asked about the 'weird old man,' and I said he needn't worry. Then I hurried him out of the store, as he was saying he wanted to go to Regents Park."
"That's not enough for you to turn your lip into hamburger."
"After we'd been at Regents awhile, a little boy showed up and started to play with Scorpius. He didn't carry himself like a normal child. At one point, Scorp almost fell off the slide, like he said. The child waved his hand lightly, and performed a wandless Arresto Momentum. Our son introduced him as 'Ab.'"
"Ab? As in what?"
The boy said 'Abner,' but I asked if he was sure it wasn't 'Abraxas.'
Draco sniffed. Good to know his wife's skills weren't slipping. If anything, it appeared she was getting sharper, living with a Slytherin.
"Judging by your face, you've figured out who your son's new friend is."
"I'm still hoping for the part that proves me wrong. Go on."
"There isn't one. It was Lucius; he admitted using polyjuice. Once he confessed, I forced him to have lunch with us. Hot dogs, crisps, and fizzy drinks."
"And this is the part where you tell me he ran screaming instead of eating muggle food, right? Gods, would I have loved to see the look on his face when you trapped him into that."
"Well, he wasn't pleased about it, but he sat down and ate with us without argument. Your father subsequently discovered that he has a penchant for hot dogs. He demolished the crisps, and was completely hyper after the fizzy drinks. It really was funny."
"Hilarious, I'm sure. The biggest question I have is why the hell you allowed him anywhere near our son?" Hermione could see the cold fire in her husband's eyes, and knew she needed to tread carefully.
"Draco, you've always said I had good instincts, have you not?"
He responded with a drawn out "yes" that sounded exactly like Severus Snape. Hermione did her best to control her reflexive shiver.
"Lucius was not presenting a threat. Heaven knows I've seen him angry often enough to recognize the signs. Today, though, he even protected Scorpius, as I've told you. I saw the look in his eyes at Honeydukes. It was a raw, naked yearning of an intensity I've never seen."
"You sat at the Gryffindor table for seven years. If you wanted to see raw, naked yearning, all you had to do was watch Weasley on days we had fried chicken."
"Your father ate muggle food not only voluntarily, but quicker than you did originally."
"Oh, so now all is forgiven, and his past as a psychotic, muggle-hating, murderous sonofabitch no longer matters?"
"Of course it matters. I never forgot it for one second, Draco. But I understood that he just wanted a chance to be around his grandchild. He and Narcissa made mistakes, and some horrendous choices. No doubt about that. But if they want to make an effort, I believe in second chances. I believe in forgiveness, Draco."
"Forgiveness?" he scoffed, "Forgiveness is for those who have earned it. Not for those who are unworthy."
"Funny, there were people who said the same about you. Just think where we'd be if I'd had your attitude about mercy, O Beloved Husband."
"You'd likely have been a Weasley."
"And you'd likely have been a miserable drunk."
Draco growled and turned away from her.
"Draco, he's not asking for instant 'happy family.' All he's asking for is a chance to talk to you. Please, love. If he and your mother have made progress, Scorpius should have the chance to know his grandparents."
"How do you even think you know what my father wants?"
"Because he asked me at the end of our visit. He only wants two things."
"A chance to talk to me, and what else?"
"Erm, more hot dogs. He's anxious to know where one procures such delicacies."
For the first time that night, Draco smiled.