PROLOGUE, Part II: Maledictus

"I can't believe I won't ever see Scorpius again."

Astoria Greengrass Malfoy was the picture of sorrow as the Hogwarts Express rounded the corner and with a last, long bellow of its steaming horn, the train was out of sight.

Draco found his heart twisting in his chest as he stood beside his wife, quiet and dutiful. He reached out to put his hand on the small of her back, but did nothing more. They simply stood there, together, not talking. Astoria was staring after a train she could no longer see as if she'd somehow still get another glimpse of her son.

There was nothing exaggerated in her words. This was likely the last time Astoria would see Scorpius in life.

He would not rush her nor would he dishonor her by giving her false, empty reassurances they both knew weren't true.

Astoria was living on borrowed time.

She already lived twice as long as the Maledictus Curse usually allowed and she'd done impossible things like bear a child and seal a magical bond like marriage. The arrival of 1 September, the moment when she'd be able to see her son off to Hogwarts as any parent dreamed and anticipated was a moment she'd never thought she'd live to see.

Draco was going to let her cherish it for as long as she needed to.

"Please take care of our baby, Draco," whispered Astoria, after a while. The crowds were thinning and dispersing now that the children were gone; he easily heard her faint, pained whisper. "I know he won't understand why this happened. You can tell him the truth, one day – but, no matter what, please make sure my Scorpius Hyperion lives well and happy. I had eleven years with him. Promise me that you'll do everything to see that he sees a hundred more."

Draco swallowed thickly, nodding firmly.

If he and Astoria were a regular husband and wife, if their marriage was sincere and a bond that had come from love and the passion brought lovers together, then Draco likely would have pulled her close and crushed her into a hug that would allay all of her sorrow and fears. He didn't. He knew that touch as intense as that would be painful for the mother of his child. Pain was the last thing that he wished to cause her. Their entire marriage had come from his desperate and dedicated need to see that Astoria Greengrass knew as little pain as possible and experienced what few joys she could have.

The deliberate touch to the soft fabric of her robes, where right her back curved into her narrow hips – that was all he allowed himself and the only comfort he offered her.

"I promise, Astoria." Draco murmured quietly. "Scorpius will never be the same without you. He loves you so much, I'm not sure what he'll do when you're gone. I won't be the same either; I don't deserve the wife you've been, but I am very fortunate that you're who mothered my son. He and I might not have you for much longer, but we still have each other. If for no other reason than you, I won't you fail you in this."

Astoria suddenly sobbed, pressing her trembling hands to her mouth. Grief was overwhelming her.

"You haven't failed me yet, Draco. Not once!" Astoria turned to him and Draco was alarmed to see the clear mark of an episode coming soon. Her tears weren't the usual colorless, clear tears of a normal woman; instead, a disturbing spidery-black fluid was coming from her eyes, smudging her face with a haunting darkness that he was familiar with. "You're the best friend I could ever ask for. I do love you very much, even if it is not as a wife should. I'm so sorry that I've taken so much of your life like this. You've made all my wildest dreams come true. I never thought I'd be married or have a child, and you – "

Draco caught his wife with quick hands as she swayed.

"Come, Tori. You need to sit down."

Draco knew that her hypersensitive skin would feel agonized from the firm hold he had on her, but he had no choice; she was not doing too well with standing up without his assistance and he'd rather make her hurt for a few moments while he guided her to a safe place than to risk an injury.

Astoria was so fragile and great care had to be taken with her, at all times.

She wept grievously, quietly, and only because he knew did he recognize how distressed and sad she was down her soul.

To others, it might seem that she was taking the departure of her child off to Hogwarts especially hard, as some parents and guardian did. As it was, there were a couple of emotional people lingering, although the crowd was now cut down by half. Where those few people who weren't coping as well with another start to a school year could likely be comforted and reassured that it was only a few months until they saw their child again in December.

For Astoria, she might not be alive by December.

There was nothing, nothing at all that Draco could say comfort or soothe her, nothing in the world but reversing an irreversible genetic curse would assuage this grief.

"Draco, I'm so sorry that I'm going to die and leave you all alone with our child," Astoria cried, piteously. Her dark eyes were shedding sickly black tears that somehow seemed to match her despair. "It's so selfish of me but I wanted Scorpius so much, I wanted to be a wife and have a family even though they said I couldn't – "

Draco knew an episode was more assuredly on its way. Draco knelt in front of her, taking her face his hands delicately. Her eyes were unfocused, as she rambled to herself in a hushed, aggrieved voice. The hysteria was not typical of her; heightened emotions was always one of the triggers for a Maledictus attack.

At once, Draco regretted the argument with her sister, when Daphne had tried to come along for the occasion.

Daphne Greengrass Montague had argued that Astoria being terminal meant that she might easily become overwhelmed by what seemed to be a simple trip to London. He didn't need to be reminded, but Daphne had done so anyhow.

Any attack that she suffered now that she was terminal only brought her closer to death.

Draco had argued that they deserved this last moment as a family to have as a memory, just the three of them – and had very curtly asked her to not come.

Now, he had to eat his own words and fetch Daphne for the very help she'd foreseen that he would need.

"Astoria, please, look at me and listen to me," beseeched Draco, waiting until she'd focused on his face. "I don't ever regret marrying you. Scorpius is the single best thing in my life and it is because of you that I have a beautiful son. The eleven years so far that we've had as a family, even if it isn't the family, we think we should have had…it is enough. More than enough. It is more than I had any right to hope for or expect. Don't ever feel guilty for being the first true friend I had and allowing me to experience the great blessing of having Scorpius as our boy."

Her sobs did not stop but the rambling, guilt-ridden anguish that she'd never speak aloud unless she was already suffering from symptoms of an attack – that faded away with a shaky nod.

Draco was sure that she was as settled as she was going to get, but he had to act quickly.

She didn't have much longer until the attack surfaced fully. Astoria didn't need to be in public when that happened. Despite their argument, Daphne had stubbornly insisted that she'd be in London, even if Draco didn't want her present at King's Cross. She had reserved a room at The Leaky Cauldron for the day and would be lying in wait, should Draco need her help with Astoria.

He did.

Draco rose to his feet and looked around for the public grates. He stopped short, his mouth going dry as he noticed a familiar mass of bushy brown hair turning to look away from how she'd been staring at him. The person behind her had tapped her shoulder politely to make her see that it was her turn to use the Floo.

Draco deliberately waited until Hermione Granger had made the fire flare green and stepped into the grate.

Or, Hermione Weasley, he supposed.

Earlier, she'd been standing with Weasley and Potter, as always; nearly thirty years later, the golden heroes of Gryffindor were inseparable still and it seemed they'd pulled the girl Weasley into their sphere of influence, as Potter's wife. The dark-haired and red-haired children that had grouped around them had made it clear that another generation of Gryffindors was rising, all noble and impeccable and with the promises of a future they'd been poised to inherit the moment Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord.

Draco had looked away, unable to take much more of the sight.

Those children had promise and goodwill because their parents were heroes.

His son was not likely to have the same.

The future that was waiting for his son at Hogwarts was questionable at best and it was all because of lives that had been lived before Scorpius had even existed.

When he was sure Hermione Weasley was gone, distantly wondering why she was leaving by herself without Potter or the Weasleys she'd been cleaved to as long as he'd known her, Draco stepped up to the first available grate and pinched Floo Powder to make a fire-call to his sister-in-law.

The Maledictus Curse had stolen a lot from Astoria but they'd taken a risk to defy Dark Magic to steal back what the curse had taken. Just as she'd taken the last bit of joy she could have in her dwindling life and seen her child safely to Hogwarts, the curse seemed to be rearing up and preparing to take the last bit left.

She seemed to feel that this was the last farewell she would ever have to her son.

Draco could only hope that his wife could hold until Christmas so that their son could have that last goodbye with his mother and have closure. He hoped that he would be able to get that same closure, too, once the only true and best friend he'd had in life finally succumb to the terrible Maledictus that she'd been born with.