CW: Grief
CW: Explicit Language
Unbelievable.
Once he considered it, Draco was shocked he hadn't put the pieces together earlier. He watched Hermione Granger's car drive through the gate, beginning the trip back to London. Draco waved, more to the driver since Granger's gaze was already set on her phone. Not that he had room to talk; he had too much work to do and no time over the weekend to do it. He turned and took the steps to the front door two at a time. Sure to close the door behind him, Draco made his way to the west staircase and shook his head.
Unbelievable.
Instead of making for his own office, he flung open the door to his mother's study. She and her assistant were huddled over one of Romilda's boards, discussing potential matches for their latest client. Draco stepped inside the room, crossed his arms, and said,
"Don't even try."
His mother looked over at him, her face a well-crafted mask of ignorance. Her assistant, on the other hand, grinned like a spider whose web had just trapped a fly. Narcissa asked,
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, my son?"
"You think I can't see what you're doing?"
"My job."
"No, you're trying to set me up with Hermione Granger."
"That would be quite difficult, seeing as you haven't so much as sat for an initial consultation."
"Seriously?" Draco asked, stunned to the point of disbelief. "You're my own mother and you need me to sit here and answer questions like, 'Have you ever been married?' and 'Do you have children?'"
"This is a business, Draco," his mother teased. A smile finally broke through. "We have standard operating procedures. In fact, Hermione Granger did not finish her interview as we were interrupted by my grandson. Perhaps I should summon her back." She choked back a laugh before asking, "Would you like her to visit again?
"Oh, that's how you want to play this? Like you didn't receive Granger's request for your services—"
"Her publicist made the request."
"—and immediately think, 'Draco likes her.' Then decided to accost me with macarons and insist I give your matchmaking a try the same week you schedule her for a consultation?"
"I never said you like her."
"What you're doing?" Draco pointed between his mother and her assistant. "Both of you? This is cheating."
Romilda chimed in, "Hermione's not even on your list. Right now, your list of potentials is quite the sausage fest."
"Oh." Draco tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "That's … fine."
"Well, my son," Narcissa replied, "as you have not sat for a consultation, the only information I have is my knowledge of your dating history and what your friends have told me. Most of my information came from Blaise, who knows very well what you like in men. However, I would get more information out of a rock than I would Blaise when it comes to what you prefer in women."
"Then …" Draco shrugged. "Why is Granger not on my list?"
"Her answer to the family question is not compatible with what I presume yours would be."
"The family question?"
"Romilda," his mother nodded to her notebook, "will you please read back the question and her answer?"
"But," Romilda hedged, "that's confidential."
Narcissa shot a searing glance her way and Romilda rolled her eyes. She flipped through her notebook and grumbled,
"Fine."
"Why do you take notes on paper?" asked Draco. "Wouldn't it be more efficient to—"
Romilda countered with, "Do you store your nude photos on the cloud?"
"No."
"Same reason." Romilda found the page and recited, "Question: Do you want a family? Answer: I don't know. If I was going to have a child, I would've started already. I don't want to begin a family on my own. For the proper person I want to be the missing piece of a puzzle that has already been put together."
Draco frowned. What part of that kept him out of the equation? He wasn't desperate to be a father again. Quite honestly, he didn't want another child. He could barely be present for Scorpius as it was. Seeing his confused expression, Narcissa explained,
"Just days ago, you told me your family isn't missing a piece."
Draco clenched his jaw and looked between the two of them. Any reply would damn him one way or another. He said,
"Scorpius seemed to like her."
"Yes."
"She's short."
"Yes," Narcissa agreed.
"Her hair is very frizzy."
"It is."
"But—"
"Sunday after my grandson leaves." Narcissa turned to Romilda and said, "Put my son down for a six o'clock consult. Then we'll be sure to be done before dinner."
"And the news," Romilda said with a knowing smirk.
"She doesn't do the news on Sunday."
"You know her schedule," Romilda teased, "but you're not interested?"
"She is a good journalist. Given the things that have been said about this family in the press, when I find someone trustworthy I know when they are on air. That does not mean I am interested in Hermione Granger." Draco grinned down at the floor and said, "She's funny, though. I didn't expect that."
"Right, as you're so uninterested," Romilda said facetiously, "I suppose you won't mind me saying we've lined up her three guaranteed dates and none of them are you."
"No," Draco lied, "I wouldn't mind at all. Because matchmaking is idiotic and I don't need to add anyone else into this family. We are happy as we are."
"I won't be here forever, my son." Narcissa's voice was low and firm. "This family will not always look the way it does right now. When I am gone—"
"Don't." Draco warned her off. "Do not finish that sentence. Do not begin that sentence again. This family is secure. We are safe, we are—"
"Draco."
"NO." He turned to leave and shouted over his shoulder, "I don't want to hear it."
He heard Romilda grumble, very mature, but he didn't care. He lost his father to prison. He lost his wife to illness. Draco refused to think about losing anyone else. He shook the thoughts from his head as he made his way down to his own office. He needed to look better, look happy.
Scorpius can't see you sad.
Draco shook himself back into the moment and forced a smile as he walked into his office. Scorpius was standing in front of Blaise, pulling tiny F1 cars from his rucksack. Draco caught Blaise's gaze and winked before silently creeping up behind his son. Draco scooped Scorpius up from behind and laughed as his son yelped in surprise. Draco held him against his hip as Scorpius clutched the tiny cars to his chest.
"D'you want to play outside?"
"Mhmm." Scorpius nodded. "Albus brought in a clover with four leaves today. I want to find one!"
"Okay. You head out and we'll follow, alright?"
"Put me down!"
Draco frowned at him and asked, "Is that proper?"
"Put me down, please!"
Draco placed him back on the ground and Scorpius ran toward the back staircase as quickly as he could manage. Draco turned to Blaise and pulled him into a quick hug.
"Thank you, again, for bringing him home."
"You're welcome."
Draco stepped back and surveyed Blaise from tip to toe. Something was off. He wore a forest green longline coat, creased a bit where he'd folded it on the passenger seat. Brown jumper, black jeans that hugged him in all the best places … But Blaise felt off. Draco gestured to the door and said,
"Follow?"
Blaise nodded, but said nothing. As they made their way down the hall, Draco asked,
"Is everything alright?"
He didn't answer for awhile, so Draco allowed his mother's words to travel through his mind. I won't be here forever. The only presence in Draco's life steadier than his mother was the manor itself. As long as Draco had been alive, his mother had been more of a foundation for the Malfoy line than his father could have aspired to.
They walked out the back door into the gardens, where Scorpius had already plopped down on the pathway. Narcissa Malfoy was there, she had always been there, and a world in which she wasn't seemed to be creeping closer and closer. Draco wanted to run in the other direction. Run toward a world where he had a mother, a father, a wife—
But no son.
Draco looked out at Scorpius, digging through the grass. He could almost hear the groundskeeper's frustrated groans, but no one ever said anything. Scorpius was beloved. There was so much light and life inside of him, so much of Astoria inside of him that Draco wanted nothing more than to give him every good thing he asked for. Someone needed to show him how amazing life could be.
Except for when it isn't.
Except for when you lose the people you care about most.
Sometimes it feels like the world is spinning but forgot to take me with it.
"We need to discuss Scorpius's travel arrangements."
Those words pulled Draco from his thoughts. His heart sank; yet another unpleasant conversation had finally caught up with him. Draco knew he couldn't ask Blaise to make the drive twice a week forever, but he was so caught up with work that he hadn't found a solution.
"Why? I know it's a lot to ask on top of everything—"
"I am selling my house."
Draco blinked.
"Oh."
"When I bought it ten years ago, I thought I'd have a more permanent reason to make England home. With you, or someone else …" Blaise shrugged. "It hasn't happened and I don't want to keep waiting. I hope to return to Italy permanently."
Draco's heart sank even lower.
"Oh."
"Not that I don't love my godson, because I do—"
"I know you do."
"If I saw my life continuing here, I would stay. As much as I love you, my godson, Theo, Bastien, our family … When I look at London I see failure. My failure to find someone to make a life with. Perhaps it is time to look elsewhere, and I want to do that at home."
"I see."
"I haven't begun the process yet, so there is nothing imminent."
"But you've decided?"
"I believe so." Blaise kicked lazily at some of the grass. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps …" Draco stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to face his best friend. His best friend who might be moving to a different country. "What brought this on?"
Blaise looked up at the sky and said, "The last time we all had dinner, I looked around at all of you and saw stability. I want to be there for someone the way Bastien and Theo are there for their wives, and the way you are there for Scorpius. I want to know I am coming home to someone. I am tired of being this person, of finding different men to keep my bed warm every week. It is exhausting and doesn't make me happy anymore. Truthfully, I don't believe it ever has."
"And you think you'll find the right man in Modena?"
"Perhaps? All I can say is that I haven't found him here."
"Our family doesn't give you enough stability?" asked Draco. "Because it sounds like you are leaving us, leaving your godson because the love of your life has not yet landed in your lap."
Blaise frowned.
"Your mother is searching for your second love, Draco. I am still out here looking for my first."
"You know she won't find anyone."
"No," replied Blaise, "I don't know that."
"You know, you know how deeply I loved Astoria."
"Yes, and I want that. I want someone to love me the way you loved her. Finding that is a priority for me, and I don't believe trying to find love means I am abandoning my godson."
"That's not—"
"That is what you were trying to say to me."
"No," Draco insisted, "I'm not in the proper headspace for this conversation. I'm so sorry. I just … My mother said something to me just now that I didn't want to hear."
Blaise continued to look at Draco without reply. He'd always been frustratingly level in these moments. Draco wanted Blaise to be angry at him, wanted a reason to scream at someone. Draco huffed,
"She said she won't always be around."
"She won't be."
"I know that."
"That's not the issue. The issue is that you are not prepared for it."
Draco nodded.
"You're right. I mean, I'm terrified. Now you come in, talking about leaving England, so is everyone about to disappear? Then it's going to be me and Scorpius and I can't care for him on my own. You spend more time with my son than I do—"
"That isn't true."
"—and I'm trying to balance the business with being a good father, but I keep failing."
"No one said that."
"I am trying to keep Astoria's memory alive because Scorpius never got to know her. I dunno how to do that."
"You loved her," replied Blaise, "and she is still very much in your heart. How do you stay close to her?"
"Every time I look at my son, I see her. Parts of her that I thought I'd forgotten. He has her smile, her laugh, and he can't resist a good musical."
"Perhaps if you see Astoria in your son, the best way to keep her memory alive in your son is to let him see her through you."
Draco sighed and admitted, "You're right, and I hate you for it."
"He deserves to have a present father. I know what it's like to grow up with absent parents, and even if you found someone else to run the business, the truth is you are only ever halfway here. Part of you is always in the past, and Scorpius is beginning to see that. It is alright to grieve for Astoria. We all miss her and the light she brought out in you."
Draco smiled softly at the ground. She had always been able to make him laugh.
"That light is still in you, but now her memory is snuffing it out. You can grieve her, still, and you should. She gave you him." Blaise nodded to where Scorpius was hunting around in the grass for the illusive four-leaf clover. "However, Astoria would hate to see that you have not only cut him off from her family—"
"They did that all on their own."
"—but you've cut him off from part of your heart. I don't know if finding a new woman for you to love is the answer, but you need to try something to help you move forward."
Draco nodded and admitted, "I don't know what it is."
"I wish I had an answer for you." Blaise asked, "Whose car was in the drive when I got here?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Why does that name sound familiar to me?"
"She does BBC News at Ten."
"With Diggory?"
"Yes."
"Ah. Is your mother trying to get you two together?"
"No, actually." Draco frowned. "I was upset when I believed she was, then sort of offended just now when I found out she wasn't. Granger was nice, though. She met Scorp and they hit it off quite well. She seemed far more interested in my library and my son than she did me."
"I would say the wedding ring played a role in that."
"Yes."
"Maybe that is what you need right now," Blaise offered. "Perhaps you need a new friend to invite into our family more than a relationship. I don't know anything about her, but if Scorpius likes her then that's as good an endorsement as any."
"You're right. I might ask my mother for her number."
Blaise sighed and said, "We both know you won't."
"Oi!" Draco nudged Blaise's shoulder with his own. "Don't be so sure."
"I'll believe it when you do it. I should be getting back, though." Blaise turned toward the drive but stepped back to say, "I nearly forgot, I'm hosting a party two Saturdays from now. Ginny has a friend she wants to set up; I thought a party would be a good way to provide that opportunity and gauge interest in the house."
"Fine."
"I'm asking you to help host."
"Fine."
"Draco."
He turned to face Blaise and said, "I don't want you to leave."
Blaise nodded.
"Okay."
"So you'll stay?"
"I will see if there is interest in the house. However, I may be less inclined to sell than I was ten minutes ago."
"Right. I appreciate that." Draco placed one hand on Blaise's shoulder and asked, "Since you always know what to say to get my head out of my ass, may I return the favour?"
Blaise nodded.
"You find love when your life is steady. When you look around and decide you are at peace with what life looks like, when you stop searching? That is when someone falls into your life. Not when you're chasing love, but when you stay steady long enough for it to find you."
"Is that how you found Astoria?"
"Yeah. Yeah, it is."
Blaise nodded again and said, "I don't know which of us needed to hear that more, me or you."
He turned around without saying goodbye. Draco watched him disappear behind the hedge. He stayed facing that direction until he heard the Jaguar roar to life, then the telltale sound of the tires moving against the pavement. Draco turned to watch his son playing in the garden, finding joy in the simplest of things. Blaise was right once again. Draco crossed his arms and grumbled,
"Dammit."
.oOo.
"Is it alright if I visit your mum alone?"
Scorpius pondered the question before breakfast on Saturday morning. He looked up at Draco, who was wary of the expression on his son's face. Scorpius knew more than he let on, and he understood it wasn't truly a question. Scorpius looked so much like Draco that he wondered whether he ever looked at his own father like this. Had his eyes had the same knowing look when he saw through his father's carefully crafted, brittle façade? Scorpius looked Draco in the eyes and said,
"You need her today."
Without another word, he walked over to the dining table and climbed into his chair. Suddenly, the smell of pancakes made Draco rather nauseous. He stood to leave, left, turned around and poked his head back into the dining room.
"Scorp?"
He looked up and shot back, "Dad?" in the most polite voice he could muster without laughing. Draco smiled.
"I love you."
"Love you, too!"
Draco didn't remember walking from one end of the manor to the other. Didn't remember choosing a car. Getting in the driver's seat. Starting the engine. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the top of the wheel.
Let him see her through you.
You need her today.
"It's a wonder I survive the two of them," Draco grumbled as he began the same drive he made every Saturday. Astoria was buried in a beautiful private cemetery up in Staffordshire. Well over two hours north, Scorpius usually spent more of his weekends in a car than at home. London to Wiltshire on Friday. Wiltshire to Stoke-on-Trent then back on Saturday. Wiltshire to London on Sunday.
Draco pulled into the cemetery, parked, and leaned his head back on the seat. Deep breath. He'd never made the visit without Scorpius. He looked over to the bouquet of yellow tulips in the passenger seat, then into the backseat where Scorp's booster seat sat empty, and felt more alone than ever. Things would change the moment he stepped out of the car. So, why not just stay in the car?
You need her today.
Before he could consider it any longer, Draco grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and opened the door. He stepped out, shut the door behind him, and put one foot in front of the other. He walked past the fountain out front. It was serene, with a statue of little cherubs flying around a pedestal with fruits hanging off its edges. The path walked straight underneath a wooden archway with a bench on either side, shielded from the elements and whatever else visitors weren't quite ready to see. Draco walked straight through, flowers in hand.
One row.
Second row.
Third row.
He turned at the fourth row of headstones on the right and made his way six down. There it was: a simple grey headstone on a very green patch of grass. Fitting. The headstone itself would forever be a point of consternation.
Astoria Greengrass.
Draco pushed those thoughts aside. He wasn't there to think about the Greengrasses. He wasn't even there to talk about the things he usually said. We miss you. We love you. Scorpius still can't stay awake through La Bohème. It was a different type of day. He placed the flowers in the open vase attached to the left side of the headstone. He stepped back, checked to ensure no one else was around, and words began to pour out of Draco before he could think much about them.
"Blaise said something to me yesterday. It's been staring me in the face for awhile, but he was the only one brave enough to say it to my face." Draco chuckled softly and admitted, "He hasn't changed much since you knew him. Still frustratingly silent until he knows something needs to be said. The truth is that I've been searching for a way to keep you alive, or your memory, at least. You live on through our son, though, and I didn't understand that until today. Blaise is right; I can stop searching. I've been so focused on making sure Scorpius gets to know you that I don't think he really knows me. I haven't shown him enough because I've left myself in the past."
Draco paused.
"With you."
He sighed and continued, "I've been stuck for five years. Right after you died, I was filled with rage. I was angry at myself for not having insisted you go back to hospital sooner. I was angry at the hospital for letting you go home. I was angry, then your parents did what they did, all the rage built up inside of me until it calcified into this dead weight around my heart. That first year everyone kept asking, 'Are you okay?' and I had nothing to tell them except, 'I have to be.' What choice did I have? I had to keep going for our son, even as I kept sinking lower and lower."
Draco absentmindedly pushed his hair back, behind his ears.
"The worst moment, the closest I ever came to giving up, was when our son took his first steps. I should've been happy that he was growing, but all I could think was that he should be walking into your arms." Draco took a deep, shuddery breath and exhaled as steadily as he could. "I could almost see it in my mind, what that moment should have looked like if it wasn't stolen from you. From all three of us. I went to bed that night and prayed I wouldn't wake up. Begged for it, just for the chance to see you again. To let you know our son was alright.
"The thing is, everyone tells me to stop mourning you, and I have. I am at peace with what happened, my role, and Daphne and I are amicable enough now. I haven't stoppedmourning for Scorpius. He never got to know his mum. You never got to make a single memory together. How can I bring someone new into our lives without feeling like they are taking your place?" Draco shook his head. "I never want anyone to feel like they're fighting you for my affection, but I also don't want them to ask me to forget you. To leave you in the past. How the bloody hell can I do that when everything good inside our son came from you?"
Draco laughed.
"Apart from his hair. He gets that from me."
He paused, hoping to hear her voice somehow. Maybe her laugh. When it didn't come, he said,
"My mother is trying to set me up with another woman. I don't know who yet, but she wouldn't have asked without a plan. I am going to give it real go. I don't think she will find anyone, but I need to try. For you, more than anyone. Blaise said your memory is suffocating me, which you'd hate. I know you would want me to be happy, so I am going to try to find it in whatever form it comes.
"I was sort of hoping it was Hermione Granger. She's an anchor on BBC, the sort who makes men cry on television because they've been outwitted by a woman so short that she's probably closer to Scorp's height than mine. And you would've loved her. She's a firecracker on the news, the way you were onstage. I think that is what I'm missing: your fire. Your energy. My mother disagrees, I suppose, because it's not Hermione Granger. Perhaps she thinks that I need a woman without all that fire inside of them. Something a bit more peaceful."
He nodded to himself.
"I'd fucking hate that. I'd be bored out of my skull. The only thing worse than Scorpius seeing me sad and alone would be for him to see me sad and bored." Draco paused as he realized, "God, is that what I've become? With work, being with Scorp on the weekends, falling asleep to the news … Oh my God, Tori." Draco crossed his arms across his chest as he realized, "You would hate who I've been these past five years, and I have to be better for all of us. So I'm not going to come here as often."
Draco wiped away tears with the heels of his hands and grumbled, fucking hell. He could hear his father's voice, then, So pathetic. Crying because you lost the one person in the world who could manage to love you. Admit it, there will never be anyone else. Perhaps, in this case, his father was right. Nobody would be able to love Draco as he was. He had to find a way to settle into this life, to find peace without Astoria's memory hanging over every moment.
"Got a bit more than I bargained for on this trip." Draco grimaced. "So this is what I have to say to you."
He stared at the headstone. Stared until his eyes watered. He blinked away the tears and shook his head.
If you've got something to say, then say it. You need to say it, need to take one tiny step forward. Do it for your son.
"I don't know what better looks like for me, but I do know this one thing: I loved you and the life we had together, short as it was. The way I think of it now, my heart is like a book at a library. You checked it out first, kept it for years before you returned it. No matter who picks it off the shelf next, Astoria, your fingerprints are all over the cover. You read the pages first, held them gently between your fingers as you saw more and more of me until you decided to write the next chapters yourself. And, no matter what, your name will always be on top of the card at the front. Whomever reads it next, they get your chapters, too. So …" Draco swallowed thickly. "There. That's it. That's … That."
.oOo.
Sunday afternoon, Draco found himself in his mother's office, just like any other client. Romilda's lap was covered in papers, but Narcissa's was clear save for a few pieces of paper. Draco shifted in the chair, still uncomfortable being involved in this process. He glanced toward Romilda, who looked just a bit too cheerful to watch him squirm. She was at the ready, pencil hovering over the top line of her notebook page. Narcissa said,
"I filled out all the bits of the forms I know. Your address, your university, how would you describe your career, have you been married previously, etc. We only need to discuss the more—"
"The more invasive questions, yes." Draco nodded. "Go ahead. Let's finish this quickly."
"We begin with the simplest, then: what do you hope to gain from this process?"
"A blessedly quiet period of time in which you do not ask me when I will start looking for love again."
Draco watched his mother's face morph into the oh-so familiar expression that was equal parts annoyed and disappointed. She said,
"If you were taking this process seriously, my son, what would you want to gain?"
"I thought about what you said on Friday. When you said you won't be around forever, I realized how much I relied on you after …" Draco grumbled low in his throat and looked down at his hands. "After we lost Tori. One day she was there and the next … The next I had a baby I only half-knew how to care for and a heart that had been shattered beyond repair. I am never going to love someone the way I loved her. I know that and, I think, if you're honest, you know it as well."
"I agree." Narcissa held up her hand to signal for Romilda to stop writing. "I do not want you to find someone to replace Astoria. All I am asking is that you make an attempt to patch your heart up a bit. Only then will you be able to make a happy life for you and your son."
Draco nodded and Narcissa lowered her hand so Romilda could continue her notes.
"That is what I want, more than anything. Someone to ease me back into this with no expectations. I want good conversation. Some laughs. A person who isn't jealous when I talk about Tori. Someone who understands why I need to talk about her." Draco conceded, "A good shag would be nice."
Narcissa frowned at him. Romilda nodded and scribbled that onto one of the lines of her notebook.
"And if, in the unlikely event we make it to your precious third date, I'd want someone who understands the importance of slowing down to enjoy each other's company. Perhaps I don't want to fall asleep to the news. Maybe I want to cuddle up with my person under a heavy blanket and watch an old movie."
Romilda's hand stopped writing the moment he ended the sentence. She looked up at him with a curious expression on her face, but said nothing. As always, his mother revealed nothing. She asked,
"Ten years from now, what does your life look like?"
"That." Draco said, "The business is doing well enough that I can take a small step back. Scorpius is looking at universities and I am still on the sofa, under the blankets with my person, watching nineties movies until we can't keep our eyes open."
Romilda finally came back to herself enough to write down the conversation. Narcissa asked,
"Do you want another child?"
"No."
"Not even—"
"No."
"Describe your ideal partner, then. What do they look like?"
"I don't want anyone who looks like Astoria. Tall, thin, dark hair, and green eyes in combination is too much. There needs to be clear separation between my wife and whomever you want to take part in this. I don't have much preference otherwise. I suppose I'd like someone pretty." He shrugged. "Nice tits would be on the list. Nice teeth."
Romilda snickered and mumbled, "Tits and teeth."
"Yeah," Draco agreed, "tits and teeth are about it for me."
Romilda reached over onto Narcissa's desk and grabbed a piece of paper. She scanned through it, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the bin. Draco asked,
"What was that?"
"Your sausage fest."
"But—"
"You don't want them, anyway. They aren't the movies under a mountain of blankets type."
Draco watched as his mother tried to glare a pair of holes into the side of Romilda's head. Romi, for her part, didn't seem to regret what she said, but she also wasn't willing to look at her boss. Which meant she had said something a bit too on-the-nose. Judging by the tension between the two of them, Draco wouldn't receive any clarity. Instead he mentioned,
"I'd prefer a woman, anyway. Scorp has me, Blaise, Theo, and Bastien. But we're all men. And as you pointed out, mother, you will eventually leave this family. When you do, all Scorpius will have is men. He could do with more women in his life. Tori would've preferred that."
"Yes, well, Romilda will be conducting the final portion of your consultation." Narcissa stood up to leave. "She knows the proper questions, and I would prefer not to be here when you answer them."
Draco nodded.
"Understood."
"I expect you to be honest."
"Understood."
"Good, then."
Narcissa was out the door moments later. Draco turned back to Romilda the moment it clicked shut. Romi admitted,
"She gave me control of your file." Romilda looked down at her papers, then over to Narcissa's empty desk and admitted, "I can't believe she's trusting me with this."
"What's so personal that she doesn't want to hear?"
"How you like to give and receive affection."
Draco frowned and asked, "Sexually, or—"
"No, in general. Like," Romilda waved her hand around searching for the proper words. "I want to know how you show someone you love them, and how you want someone to show that they love you. So tell me about your wife and how you showed her how much she meant to you."
"Oh." Draco looked up at the ceiling, a sappy smile on his face. "God, mostly it was just being present for her. I was always busy with the business and the estate, so making time was the most important thing I could do. I'd be at her shows, waiting outside after an audition, or take a morning off simply because I hadn't seen her enough. Or I hadn't held her enough. That was always important to me, being close to her. I was always holding her hand, hugging her around the waist, and just waking up with her in my arms … I felt so much for her that I wanted to feel her physically, if that makes sense."
Romilda continued to scribble notes as she said, "It makes perfect sense."
"As for the reverse? Astoria always included me in things. If she was hesitant about a role, I was her first call. If she had spare time for lunch, she'd invite me, even if she knew I couldn't make the drive in time. My opinion mattered to her. I also liked when she said nice things about me—"
Romilda whispered to herself, "Praise kink."
"Come off it, I didn't mean sexually."
"Right."
"I get comments all the time about my hair, the way I dress, being 'bent' one way or another. Then everything with my father adds a layer onto that. Tori always had a counterweight to those things."
"That brings me to the next question. How do you handle conflict in a relationship?"
"With Astoria, I would always talk things through. If we disagreed, or she hated how much time I was spending on work, or we had different opinions on the shade of paint for the nursery, it was one to one. One sentence each until we reached a conclusion. No talking over each other. We just talked it out until we had an answer."
"You never shouted at her?" asked Romilda.
Draco threw his head back and laughed.
"She was an opera singer. Astoria could shout at one end of the manor and I could hear her at the other end. If I ever tried to shout at her, she would've screamed over me until I shut up. Tori and I saw the world the same way. There wasn't much conflict that mattered."
"What about when it did?"
"I think the biggest disagreement we had was about a role she intended to take six months after Scorpius was born." Draco kicked at one of the desk legs. "She was going to America for an eight-month tour. It was a difficult decision because it was a great opportunity. I knew that, but she'd be moving myself and Scorpius to America for awhile. Hopping around from place to place in a country an ocean away from my business. From my family."
Romilda asked, "What had you decided?"
"We talked. And talked. Then we fucked and that ended the conversation. The next morning, she made breakfast for me herself and said, 'I love three things in this world: you, our son, and my singing career. Don't take one of those away from me.' That was it."
"So you two were disgustingly perfect."
"Yeah," Draco said, the pain in his voice obvious even to his own ears. "We really were."
Romilda tossed her pen onto the notebook and looked up at Draco to say, "I don't think you doing this is a good idea. I think it's going to cause you a lot of pain."
"You're probably right."
"Your mum and I disagree on this, and you know how hard it is to disagree with her. I am just her assistant, normally I don't make final decisions, I simply lay out the map for how we get the optimal pairings to accept each other. I can't figure a map for you."
"I see." Draco leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. He lowered his voice to ask, "Will you promise me something?"
"I'm listening."
"Promise me you won't put me in a position where I get my heart broken again."
"I promise."
Draco nodded to her and asked, "One more thing?"
"I'll do my best."
"Can I have Hermione Granger's number?"
.oOo.
Monday.
Monday.
Another unmemorable day.
Tuesday.
Tuesday.
Another unmemorable day.
Wednesday.
Draco picked up his phone at lunch to find a text from Blaise.
Remembered to record the news. Watched it at breakfast this morning.
Attached was a picture of Scorpius sitting at Blaise's coffee table, legs crossed, bum on the floor. He was clutching a few pieces of paper in his hands, looking up at the telly. On the screen was Hermione Granger, sitting at the news desk with a piece of paper between her hands. Draco laughed and saved the photo to his phone. He pulled up Hermione Granger's contact info.
This is Draco Malfoy.
Asked my mother for your number.
[Photo Sent]
Scorpius is very excited to see his best friend on television.
It was several minutes before Draco received the notification she'd liked the photo. Draco smiled down at the phone and quirked an eyebrow when those three dots appeared to signal she was typing a reply.
Is he ready for prime time?
I hear BBC News at Ten may have an opening soon.
She really planned to move. He pressed the thumbs-down emoji on the message and tossed the phone back onto his desk.
Thursday.
Thursday.
Tomorrow he'd see Scorpius again. Draco sighed as he began yet another virtual call with people whose names he hadn't bothered to read. There had to be at least twenty people on the call, each a tiny square on a massive monitor hooked to his laptop. It was closer to five o'clock than four, and he'd long since stopped paying attention. He hardly spoke in these meetings. Being the CEO was more akin to being a referee than an actual decision maker. In the middle of reassessing the project timeline, Draco's phone vibrated.
Incoming call from Hermione Granger.
Draco frowned. He waved at the screen until everyone stopped speaking. He quickly said,
"This meeting is over. I'm getting another call."
Before anyone could so much as react, Draco exited the call and closed his laptop. He answered his phone on speaker. Tentatively he asked,
"Hello."
Granger's voice cracked when she asked, "Malfoy?"
"Yeah, it's me." Draco tried to keep the concern out of his voice. "What do you need?"
"I—I'm sorry." It sounded as if she was holding back tears when she said, "I don't have anyone else to call."