Draco remembered the day he had found out Luna's husband had died. As Astoria fluttered around their room, pulling out different tartan scarfs and wondering which would match her robes best before Christmas dinner, Draco couldn't help but stare out the window at the darkening sky. He dreaded this party, not just because he would be forced into the company of the entire Weasley-Potter clan once again but because the last time he saw Luna Scamander, she had been an outright wreck. He could only pray to Salazar that she would not bring it up.

It was a chilly October day and Draco sat at his great mahogany desk in his study. His quill scratched the surface of the parchment as he meticulously took notes, pausing from time to time to re-read his reports. He would often go over his writing for so long that the ink at the tip of his quill would run dry but Draco liked it that way. He liked to think and then ponder further, letting his hard work show for itself. It was a slow process but one that Draco knew would reflect a great amount of accuracy and care.

Draco was just about to call Astoria or Kassy for a fresh cup of tea when he heard the door open and footsteps make his way towards him.

"Astoria," Draco said, looking up. "I was just about to-" Draco shut up abruptly when he came face to face with Luna "Loony" Lovegood. Well, Draco thought, it was Scamander now wasn't it?

Her wispy, light blonde hair hung loosely down her shoulders and settled on her faded, periwinkle robes. She was wearing mud-encrusted Wellingtons and two identical blond headed toddlers were holding her hands, looking up at Draco with curiosity. Draco looked into Luna's eyes and they were they held that same faraway look in them but somehow he knew there was more to it. Something unmistakable. Something that anyone who had suffered loss would realize.

"Is Astoria here, Draco?" Luna asked.

Draco winced at her informality, but then again when Draco had seen her a few times in passing with his wife, she was always like that.

"Loveg- Scamander," Draco began, her new name heavy on his tongue. "Astoria is around somewhere. How did you get in? Why didn't you go straight to her?"

Luna cocked her head and although she was looking in Draco's direction her eyes never met his.

"I flooed here of course," she said as if Draco was quite silly for even asking her that. Your mansion is so big I just wandered until I found someone."

Draco sighed.

"Alright, Scamander, why are you here? I don't remember Astoria-"

"Rolf is dead," Luna said bluntly. "I'm in quite a compromised state and I was wondering if she could look after Lorcan and Lysander for awhile."

Draco was struck dumb, completely blindsided by the news. His mouth hung open as he stared at Luna then her two children, who seemed un-phased, then back to her. She still wasn't looking at him.

"Sca- um, Luna," Draco said, trying to sound gentle but really just coming off sick, "I'm sorry for your loss."

"You're not really sorry," Luna chimed, "You didn't know him, or us, but thank you for trying."

Draco couldn't speak.

There was a silence for a moment that felt like eternity, Luna staring blankly over Draco's head through his study window. Her eyes never left the grey October sky, red and orange leaves turning brown and falling from their trees. Draco's eyes never left Luna's face.

Draco was jolted out of his stupor when one of the twins scrunched his face up and started to cry. The wailing pierced Draco's body and he looked towards Luna and to her son and back again. Luna didn't seem to notice her son's distress, her grip loosening on his tiny hand. The other son turned his head to stare at his brother as if he had grown a second head.

"For Circe's sake, Luna, do something!" he cried, standing up out of his chair and making his way towards her.

She still didn't look at him, just stared at the grey clouds that blended so seamlessly with the hypothetical eternity that floated above their heads. Draco knew that look, that catatonic state. She was so emotionally compromised that she had become apathetic and it was so much more dangerous than violent emotion. At least with sobbing, screaming, and anger he could predict what happened next. He could tell someone of she was going to be okay. He couldn't now.

As the boy began to cry even louder, his face red and snot running from his nose and over his lips, instinct took hold of Draco. He wrenched the toddler from his mother's grasp and scooped him up into his arms. Shooting a glare at Luna he then turned to the boy and asked, "What's your name, little man, what's your name?"

The boy couldn't answer his sobs were becoming so violent. Draco patted his back to soothe him, rubbing little circles with his fingers and cooing softly into his white blonde hair. For a moment Draco almost thought he was holding Scorpius again, tiny and vulnerable and heartbreakingly his.

"He's Lorcan, " the other twin said from below, looking up at Draco before sticking his thumb in his mouth. "He doesn't like that daddy's gone."

Draco looked from Lysander, to Lorcan, to Luna and suddenly a hot, white fury overtook him. With Lorcan balanced in one arm he used the other to grab hold of Luna's shoulder and shook her hard.

"Listen to me, witch, you better go get your damn act together by tomorrow cause these boys here need their mother to properly explain to them their dad's death. You can't just say he's gone and expect them to cope. So by all the gods, Luna Scamander, deal with your grief then come back here and help bloody well deal with your son's!"

"Draco what's going on- Luna!"

Draco whirled around to see Astoria standing the doorway, dumbstruck. After accessing the situation with a quick scan of her eyes Astoria started to approach Luna but Luna swiftly turned on her heel and apparated out of the house.

Draco walked over to Astoria and tried to hand her Lorcan who couldn't get enough breath to scream now but was dry heaving into Draco's shoulder. The little boy clung to Draco's robes, refusing to let go. Draco let out a sigh and with his eyes communicated with Astoria. She understood. She glided over and swooped down to pick up Lysander. Turning towards her husband she widened her eyes in question.

"Rolf Scamander is dead."

"Draco!"

Draco's head snapped up to meet his wife's gaze. He was sitting on their bed still staring out the window, his knuckles white from gripping the emerald sheets. Astoria held out her hand and smiled down at him.

"Come on, love, it'll be okay."

Draco grabbed her hand and together they managed to hoist Draco off the bed. He was in front of Astoria now, towering over her and yet her eyes always made her so much older, so much better, than him.

"I don't know about okay…"

"Draco, darling, it's Christmas. It's a time of… of understanding."

Draco could not fully believe it himself but his wife's wholehearted belief that he could almost convinced in. Draco leaned in and kissed Astoria, whispering,

"I love you."