The end of the chapter's a bit rough on the honey nut feelios.

TW: Biphobia
TW: Internalized Homophobia
TW: Miscarriage (Discussed)

Draco gripped either side of the bathroom sink, perplexed by what he'd just done.

He rarely got himself off after Astoria died; there were too many emotions tangled up in that grief. Guilt was the obvious place to begin. Perhaps it would have been different if Scorpius was planned and they prepared for a variety of outcomes. Astoria's pregnancy was a happy surprise that ended in a tragedy no one considered plausible. Draco and Astoria agreed on two children prior to getting married and the absence of that opportunity weighed on him as time went on.

Then there was the shame he'd allowed himself to fall for another woman. Time after time, he told Astoria she was the love of his life. No one would ever compare, there would never be anyone else … It was a lie. He loved Hermione Granger. Differently. Deeper. Loving Astoria was the simplest, easiest thing in the world. Hermione was a lot of work, forcing him to reveal parts of himself he'd long since buried. Draco lived in his grief for years, hiding from the parts of the world that reminded him of his wife. Hermione was the opposite, grabbing the first opportunity to return to the job that nearly got her killed. She embraced the world while Draco had shunned it.

He shook his head as he began washing his hands. Daddy blond. Hermione Granger, the most powerful, respected, incredible woman called him "daddy." Draco had never gotten off on that sort of thing before, though many of the blokes he'd shagged in club bathrooms over the years had given it a go. He supposed it wasn't so much a daddy kink as it was the path his brain travelled after she said it. When he considered how sex with Hermione might go, it was gentle on the shoulder, considerate of her neck, the thoughts were always soft. Daddy. Perhaps he'd been wrong all along.

He toweled off his hands and made his way upstairs, forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind. As he walked through the halls, the manor walls breathed with new life. Scorpius was home, Hermione was in the garden, and the darkness that lived inside Malfoy Manor seemed to be abating. Perhaps the people arriving that evening would feel welcome in a way the house hadn't felt in decades.

Draco stopped halfway through the playroom's doorframe and watched Romilda as she scribbled notes on her writing board. She was on the floor next to Scorpius, whose eyes were glued to Octonauts. Scorpius had pulled his legs against his chest, chin resting on his knees. Moments like this made his heart ache. As great an assistant and decent a friend as Romi was, it should've been Astoria sitting there.

Romilda nudged Scorpius with her elbow and nodded toward Draco.

"Your dad's here."

Scorpius smiled but didn't move. God, Draco saw so much of himself in his son except his smile. That was Astoria. Scorpius patted the space next to him and said,

"Sit!"

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked at Scorpius with a disappointed face until he added,

"Please!"

Draco nodded and plopped down into the empty space beside his son. He said,

"This is an important evening. We have invited many people to this party, both my friends and Hermione's. We want to ensure everyone gets along and that we fit together as a family."

Scorpius asked, "Is Hermione family?"

Romilda stood up and left the room quicker than Draco would've believed possible. Scorpius shouted after her, "Bye, Romi!" Though she was too far gone to hear. Draco said,

"I would like for Hermione to be part of our family. She will never replace your mum, but she is important to me."

Scorpius frowned and asked, "Are we important?"

"We are very important to Hermione." Draco admitted, "I think you're more important to her than I am. Hermione and me, we're together in a way. She is my girlfriend and we are working out what that means."

"Will she be my mum?"

Draco wondered, "Would you like her to be?"

"I don't know. She's nice, but I dunno what a mum's s'posed to do."

"It's like a dad, just …"

Draco frowned as some of his father's words came back to him. Somehow I raised both a son and a daughter in the same pathetic child. Scorpius gently nudged Draco with one hand.

"Dad?"

Draco shook himself out of those memories and said, "I was just thinking about your grandfather. I suppose the difference between a mum and a dad is whatever you want it to be. They're both meant to love you, care for you, make sure you understand your role in the world."

"So a mum's like a dad?" asked Scorpius.

"Yes."

"Then what's a dad s'posed to do?"

Draco sighed and let his shoulders slump.

"You know, Scorp, it really shouldn't be so difficult a question, but I don't know. Your grandfather didn't give me much in the way of good instruction. Then again, I don't know if any Malfoy father has thought about being a good dad. I suppose that, for me, being your dad means I keep you safe. I try to let you know that you can be anything you wish to be and I will love you. I know I've been a bad father much of your life so far—"

"No." Scorpius shook his head. "Nobody says bad father. You're just sad. Sad isn't bad, sad is sad."

"But it's not happy."

"When you said how my mum died, I was sad, too. I think being sad is good sometimes."

Draco insisted, "I think you're right, Scorp. I also think Tori would have been the kindest, silliest mum. All the things people believed were weird about me, she thought were great. She would have thought you were great."

"What sort of mum is Hermione?"

"I don't know, and I'm not certain she knows, but Hermione is not the reason I needed to speak with you." Draco patted Scorpius gently on the back. "We need to talk about adding someone else to our family. Blaise has a boyfriend."

Scorpius asked, "A kiss boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Scorpius looked up at Draco with wide, hopeful eyes. "He's important?"

"Very important. He will be at the party this evening, and Blaise places a lot of weight on your opinion. I want you to be honest with him about how you feel about all this. If it makes you uncomfortable or if you don't like—"

"It's not uncomf'ble."

Draco insisted, "What you think of his boyfriend, I need you to be honest. If Blaise asks you, I want you to tell him what you feel."

"Okay." Scorpius shrugged. "I'm excited. I've never been to a big party."

"You, me, and mémère Cissa are hosts tonight. It is our duty to make everyone feel welcome."

"How d'you do that?"

"For you?" Draco ruffled Scorpius's hair. "Just be yourself."

"Okay." Scorpius sighed heavily and pushed his hair back into place. "I miss Al."

"The Potter boy?"

Scorpius nodded. Draco barely hid his grin, having conspired with Potter to surprise their sons with a reunion that evening.

"He's my best friend. He's important, too."

Draco could feel his face falling as he connected the dots. The child with a crush on Scorpius was not one of the Potter boy's mutual friends. It was the Potter boy.

"You should get dressed, my son. Mémère Cissa will help you. I've got to do the same, so will you promise me to be on your best behaviour?"

Scorpius said, "Yes. I promise."

"Good then."

.oOo.

Draco was excited for this party because there were no cameras. No reason for him to be photographed or published, just a simple time with his friends. Astoria had no shortage of jokes about his penchant for clothes. She'd been delighted to find he had a separate room as a closet, and pretended to be put out that she was merely gifted a corner. Draco thought back on those words from his father all those years ago: I raised both a son and a daughter. After he came back from Bastien's, he began to create a more flamboyant version of himself to piss off his parents. He was humiliated, had been cut off only to be brought back begrudgingly as the saving grace for his father's marriage. Lucius Malfoy couldn't do any more harm to Draco than he'd already done, and Draco wanted him to pay for it. He had taken to gluing sequins onto the collars of his jackets. He started wearing eyeliner, wore blazers with no shirt underneath, and made himself a mess.

Then their family was torn apart and life was messy enough without, as Narcissa would refer to it, his "rainbow" phase.

Draco was done trying to be his father and went in the opposite direction. He cut off his hair and tried to become his mother instead. She avoided prison, and she had always been the head of the family. That was whom he was meant to emulate. His clothes changed into something simple. Clean, classic, do not let your clothes speak for you. Posh. English. All the adjectives he thought were uninteresting before suddenly became the hallmark of his wardrobe.

He stood in the centre of his closet (room) with his hands on his hips and looked around at the clothes hanging on the walls. The hats, the shoes, the cabinet dedicated to his watches … It all felt like Draco. He had Astoria to thank for that. Well, Astoria and Blaise. Blaise was the person who finally told Draco to clean himself up, and Astoria showed him how. His clothes were neither his mother nor his father. Tori had called it "refined sensuality with a dash of flamboyance." The dash had been missing the past six years. Perhaps … Draco pulled a black satin blouson jacket off its hanger and held it up in front of him. Two eagles were embroidered on the chest, one on either side, and the shoulders were gathered a bit. Something his father would've said leaned far too effeminate for a proper Malfoy man … Perhaps it was time to embrace that side of himself just a little more.

.oOo.

Draco stood at the front steps of the manor, his mother to his right and Scorpius in front as the first cars arrived at six. Narcissa took one look at his jacket and her mouth formed a thin line.

"Back to this, are we?"

Draco smiled and agreed, "We are. Scorpius, do you like my jacket?"

That tiny voice said, "I think it's cool!"

"Thank you." Draco turned toward his mother and said, "Two against one. Jacket stays."

"I never said I didn't like the jacket, my son. I merely have concern about you finding part of yourself that led you down a far less happy path."

The first familiar car began pulling around the drive and toward the front of the house. Draco insisted,

"My father made that part of my life unhappy, not the clothes."

Narcissa nodded, but did not respond. Blaise stepped out of the driver's seat and came to the front of the steps.

"UNCLE BLAISE!"

Blaise scooped Scorpius up into a tight hug. Even that had its own emotional twists and turns. Blaise was the first true father Scorpius had, and the one person who had managed to pull Draco out of his grief enough to become the father Scorpius deserved. At least, he put Draco on the path toward becoming that man.

Dean Thomas was watching them with a sort of nervous affection. Blaise held Scorpius close and said,

"I missed you so much, gioia."

"I miss you, too."

Narcissa stepped down to hug Blaise as best she could and say,

"It is good to see you, my boy."

Blaise hugged her close and replied, "You as well, Cissa. I've brought someone for you to meet."

Narcissa stepped back as Dean Thomas moved around the front of the car. The valet accepted the keys from Blaise and waited for staff to remove the luggage from the boot. Blaise placed his hand on Dean's lower back and said,

"This is my partner, Dean Thomas."

Partner.

That was new. Not boyfriend, but partner. Narcissa surveyed Dean from tip to toe and tilted her head to one side just the slightest bit. Draco watched as she continued her observation. Dean offered his hand, which she accepted then dropped almost immediately.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am. Blaise tells me you are the closest thing he ever had to a mother, so I'm a bit nervous."

Narcissa asked Blaise, "You said those words?"

Blaise glanced quickly over at Draco before admitting, "I did."

Draco watched his mother's face soften a bit. He always suspected his mother was more tolerant of his bisexuality because of Blaise. What was better than making her as-good-as-a-son into her son-in-law? Narcissa looked at Dean Thomas with a more serious attempt to consider him.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a teacher, ma'am. I write children's books, as well. While that brings in far more money, I consider it a secondary career to the first."

Scorpius leaned to whisper into Blaise's ear. Blaise nodded and Scorpius's eyes went wide. He asked,

"Dean Thomas is your kiss boyfriend?"

Blaise looked at Draco with a mildly irritated look on his face. Draco shrugged and mouthed, Sorry. Blaise rolled his eyes and confirmed,

"Yes."

"I saw you kissing in the kitchen."

There was a brief moment when the world stopped turning. Draco watched Dean Thomas's face turn bright red, which meant this was true. The look of mild terror on Blaise's face told Draco that kissing was not, in fact, just kissing. Before anyone could be quite horrified enough that Draco's five-year-old son had caught Blaise having sex with his boyfriend—partner—, Dean said,

"Blaise is a very good kisser."

Blaise looked up toward the sky as if hoping to be swallowed by the earth to escape from this moment. Scorpius, however, was delighted.

"I like your books! My favourite is Zoom on a Broom. But Uncle Blaise's favourite is The Boy in the Cupboard because it's the first one."

Narcissa said, "We will speak later, Dean Thomas."

"Of course, ma'am."

Scorpius looked at Blaise and asked, "Do you love Dean?"

Blaise grinned and replied, "Ovviamente."

Scorpius threw his arms around Blaise's neck and repeated, "Ovviamente!"

Blaise placed Scorpius on the ground. Scorpius gestured toward the path to the garden and said,

"Please follow the path down to our party!"

Dean said, "Thank you, and nicely done."

"Thanks!"

Draco turned to his left to see Penelope Clearwater had arrived in the second car. As Blaise and Dean walked toward the garden and the valets began moving the cars into the garage, Draco stepped closer to his mother. Penelope stood in front of Narcissa and pretended he wasn't there. He watched his mother place one hand on Penelope's shoulder and say,

"You know where to go."

Penelope nodded, proceeded upstairs through the front doors without a word. Draco hadn't quite understood before, the relationship between the two of them. Seeing that one moment, he got it. Draco leaned toward his mother and asked,

"Is there a reason you invited your girlfriend?"

"Do not call her that."

There was a strange expression on his mother's face. She was hiding something and was rarely so obvious about it. "Is she staying in a guestroom?"

"No."

A bold move, not even pretending to give Penelope her own space. Hermione would find out—

"She is not here overnight. I invited her because I am ending things and I believe she should be around people her own age when I do. It will be easier if she sees what she could have otherwise."

"Are you ending things because I found out?" asked Draco.

"I should have ended it when your father was released from prison. I've kept her far too long; I am no longer a mentor. I am stifling her growth and she is too strong to wither under me anymore. If I keep her now, she is little more than a pet." Narcissa tucked her hair behind her ear. "I would never forgive myself."

"I don't believe you."

"Then you should keep your opinions to yourself, my son."

"You care for her."

"She is a vanity project."

"If either of you truly believed that, this would not have lasted eight years."

"I kept it from you for eight years, Draco, so do not try to convince me—"

"Mum."

She froze. Another pair of cars dove through the gate, but there was something about this moment that felt important. Draco said,

"If there is one thing I have learned from Hermione, it is that loving someone now does not mean you love the past any less. Caring for her does not mean you love my father any less. If …" Draco grimaced. "If she is someone you love—"

"You will not finish that thought."

"Then I will say this and be done with it." Draco glanced toward his son to ensure he wasn't within earshot. "Penelope is incredible. She would not have held onto you for so long if she was only interested in your influence. It seems to me that you are ashamed you've grown to care for her as deeply as you do because she's a woman. That hurts me, and I wish you had continued to keep this from me if you think the way I am is so shameful you cannot acknowledge it in yourself."

"You love men, Draco." Narcissa insisted, "I do not love Penelope, I love your father and your father alone. Refer to Penelope however makes you comfortable. A coping mechanism, an intimate escape, perhaps a third wheel, even, to my marriage."

"She's your bitch, then."

Narcissa glared at him, a fury in her eyes she knew better than to express. If she snapped back, she would confirm that to be inaccurate. If she said yes, she would betray the love she had for Penelope. So she said nothing except,

"I agree, I should have kept this from you."

"Then call her what she is."

Narcissa turned and walked up the steps without another word. Draco grimaced and turned toward where two more cars were coming in toward the front of the manor. Harry Potter stepped out of the first car and handed his keys to the valet. He opened the boot and removed two overnight bags before handing them to the butler. He opened one door to unfasten his younger son from the backseat. Draco waited patiently for Scorpius to notice. Once both car doors were closed, the youngest Potter boy made his way around the car. There was a brief interlude in which both he and Scorpius took time to process that the other had suddenly appeared.

Scorpius let out a loud, excited squeal and bolted down the steps. Draco was worried he might fall, but Scorpius managed to remain upright for the first time in his life. Albus Potter—What the bloody hell kind of name was Albus?—launched himself in the direction of Scorpius and it was like a moment from a film, perfectly adorable. They came together in a tight hug and began to jump in a clockwise circle shouting,

"BEST FRIEND! BEST FRIEND! BEST FRIEND!"

Potter looked at the two of them and sighed, shaking his head. He made his way over to Draco and offered his hand.

"Nice jacket, Malfoy. Good to see you."

Draco accepted the handshake and asked, "Likewise. Are they always like this?"

"I think it's the separation." Potter dropped his hold and conceded, "Thank you for inviting us; Al has a huge crush on your son."

"Scorpius is trying to figure out whether he feels the same. Is it odd, though? At five or six?"

"I dunno." Potter shrugged. "My older son is with Gin's parents, but there was no way I'd let Al miss this. It's not as though they are going to start snogging or anything, but their friendship seems pretty deep to me. Your son's so polite, it is hard to think Al could find a better friend."

"Thank you. He gets his kindness from his mother. The party is in the garden just through there. Hermione should be in there; Blaise and Dean Thomas have arrived as well. Scorp!" Draco shouted.

Scorpius turned to face him.

"Would you like Albus to sleep in your room this evening?"

"Yes!"

"Good, then. You can show him where to put his things."

Scorpius ran over to pull him into a hug.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Draco ruffled his son's hair then nodded toward the steps.

"Go on."

He watched them both run upstairs through the front doors, before turning to see Harry Potter had already begun the trek toward the garden party. Ron Weasley had arrived in the second car and made the slow walk over toward Draco. A non-negotiable but certainly not the highlight of the guest list. They shook hands in a quick, stiff, awkward manner.

"Weasley."

"Malfoy."

"Thank you for coming."

"I'm here for Dean. Haven't met his boyfriend yet." Weasley stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and admitted, "I also want to show Hermione I can be around you and not be a dick."

"I appreciate you reconsidering your opinion of me. As you are a large part of Hermione's life, I believe it's mostly on me to prove I can be around you and not be a dick."

"Well Hermione doesn't even acknowledge my wife, and it makes things difficult. Since I left her, it feels like I owe her the courtesy of trying to make this part of our lives work."

"Understood." Draco conceded, "I'll do my best not to make it any more difficult."

"She's happier. Dunno what you've brought out in her, but she's a lot more like the woman I married than the woman I left." Weasley admitted, "I'm grateful for that. Saw Harry walk that way, so I'll just follow."

Considering their initial meeting, that went better than Draco had hoped. The last time they spoke, Weasley said, "Hermione's always going to be my girl," and it still twisted something in Draco's stomach. Jealousy, most likely.

The next car in was Luna Lovegood. She was … odd. Very, very odd. Her white-blonde hair was not dissimilar to his, but she looked around the area like she was seeing something everyone else had missed. Lovegood spun around slowly in a complete circle with her palms facing outward. As the staff pulled her bags from the boot, she faced Draco and smiled.

"Your home has a sense. I can hear the moon frogs from your garden."

Her voice was airy and ethereal, as if she was a vessel for another entity galaxies away. So incredibly strange. Draco repeated,

"Moon frogs?"

"Yes. There was morose energy here for a long while; I feel the lingering presence of wrackspurts in the air, but they've gone recently. Moon frogs are great for parties."

"Fairly certain they are regular frogs, but you are more than welcome to check. Party's through that way."

"Thank you for inviting me."

"My son is a fan of your work. And," Draco paused for a brief moment before adding, "the memorial you painted for my wife means more to me and my son than I have words to say. Thank you."

"Her energy spoke to me. It was not difficult to paint such a thrilling, exuberant spirit. Her soul has a song left to sing, but even the most vibrant spirits need a place to rest."

Then she was off. Draco hadn't given her directions, but she may well have been following the call of the bloody moon frogs. It warmed Draco's heart to know Astoria was still with them in some way, on whichever astral plane Lovegood operated at. Her soul has a song left to sing. Scorpius. That's what Lovegood had tried to say; her spirit lived on in their son.

The next car was Diggory and Parvati Patil, followed by Bastien and Padma. The four of them stepped out at the same time and were familiar with the routine. Parvati was in a gorgeous bright pink lehenga and a green dupatta, looking like she had brought the true beginning of summer along with her. Padma was in a double-breasted tweed jumpsuit Draco knew cost far more than this small party warranted. Then again, he was in a £2500 jacket. His eyes bounced between Padma and Parvati; something was off. The air was heavier between them. Parvati stepped forward first for a hug and said,

"Good to see you."

Draco hugged her with one arm low around her hips, careful to avoid any awkward skin-on-skin placement. Over her shoulder he looked at Diggory and mouthed, What the hell? Aloud, he said,

"Good to see you too, Parvati."

Diggory shook his head in a manner Draco took to mean, Leave it alone. He dropped his hold on Padma to shake Diggory's hand.

"Good to see you. Have you got Hermione stashed away in your house somewhere?"

"I can't say." Draco only just realized, "I believe she is in the garden, along with her ex-husband and my ex-boyfriend. We set ourselves up for quite an awkward evening."

Diggory forced a half-smile as if to say, You have no idea. He took Parvati's hand and made their way to the party. Padma stood in front of Draco and said,

"I apologize for the last time we saw each other. I nearly lost my best friend once, and seeing her in pain hurts me. Now, I see she has been feeling this way for a long while and she cares for you enough to finally bring it to the surface. It was my fault for not seeing your perspective, and Hermione's, as clearly as I should have."

"Thank you. It hurt me to know I came between you and Bastien. I never want to do that. You look excellent, as well, Padma. Quite striking."

She narrowed her eyes and asked, "Is there a reason behind this flattery?"

"Truth … and I was hoping Bas could stay back a moment?"

"A moment."

"Thank you."

Bastien waited to speak until Padma disappeared into the gardens. He turned to Draco and, unprompted, said,

"I don't know, mate. I don't fucking know. It's been like this for a week. Cedric and Parvati won't say anything and keep pretending things are fine. Padma knows something is up because she and Ti have that twin mind reading shit and she's pissed as hell that Ti isn't telling her."

"Your wife looks far too good for this party, Bas. Quite honestly, so does Parvati. Is she trying to prove a point?"

"Look," Bastien stepped closer and crossed his arms, "the day after you and Hermione had your little explosion at my house, something happened. That Tuesday, Parvati stopped taking calls. She cancelled her appointments for the week, and Cedric took me out to get an engagement ring for her. Beautiful ring, smaller, Parvati's much more practical in that way than Padma. The next Monday, four days ago, Cedric was off-air and Hermione did the show. I thought my best mate's popping the question, tomorrow he'll phone me, Parvati will be there with the ring on her finger and Ti can finally stop being so fucking jealous of our marriage."

Draco replied, "Your marriage is so functional it makes the rest of us look stupid."

"Yeah, well that call never happened. I showed up this afternoon to see Parvati's not wearing an engagement ring. I think Ti rejected Cedric and something's going on there, but I don't know what. Thing is, Padma knows even less than I do. I've never known Ti to not tell Padma something. If she does, she tells one of the other girls. Or Dean. None of them know anything."

"I see. What is the likelihood of everything exploding at this party, then?"

"Very, very likely."

Draco nodded.

"Well, for once it won't be my friends creating the fireworks. It'll be nice to sit back and watch."

"I'll let you know if I find out more."

"Good. And, Bas?"

"Yeah?"

"I never want to come between the two of you."

"Here's the thing, mate. You can't." Bastien shrugged. "Padma cares for her friends the way I care for mine. When we got married, our one non-negotiable was that I would never get in the way of her role and she would never interfere with mine. When she told you that you were unwelcome in our house, it was no longer my house. If you are unwelcome, then I am unwelcome. Padma was blind to that for a moment, and she fixed it. I love her, I forgave her, and we moved on." He clapped Draco on the shoulder and said, "Padma's choices came between us, not you."

Bastien hurried after his wife, leaving Draco standing there with that reality. It lifted his spirits a bit, and reminded him of one very important truth: a relationship involved choices that were made together. The rough bits were meant to be weathered together. He and Hermione had done all the difficult things separately, and if they intended to be a long-term couple they had to change.

Out of the next car stepped a tall, very lanky bloke and a nondescript blonde woman. They introduced themselves as Dr. Neville and Dr. Hannah Longbottom. Academics without a doubt. Draco shook their hands, instructed them to the garden, and waited for the next car. Tracey was driving, so Theo jumped out the moment she stopped. Theo grabbed Draco in a long hug and said,

"It's so good to see you, brother."

Draco gripped Theo just as tightly and said, "You too, Theo. You too."

"I heard Blaise is quite serious with his new fellow, and I know you've been a bit rocky with Hermione. Wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm well. Hermione and I are good now. It's been rough, but we are good."

"Just concerned because of …" Theo paused before saying, "The last time someone's relationship status changed, Blaise gave up Catholicism."

Draco groaned in the back of his throat and insisted, "We shouldn't speak of that." And realized just a moment too late that he sounded exactly like his mother.

"I'm just saying I'm here for you, is all."

"And me." Tracey piped in from beside them. "I'm here, too."

Draco grinned and said, "Thanks, Trace." He patted Theo on the back as a signal to step out of the hug. "You know where to go for the party. I believe you are our final guests to arrive. I'll be just behind you."

"Alright." Tracey added, "I heard you helped plan this one. I'm excited to see how you did."

"My harshest critic, as always."

Tracey winked and followed Theo into the gardens. Draco recounted the guest list in his head. Blaise and Dean. Check. The Longbottoms. Check. Hermione's ex-husband, her closest friend, and Scorpius's future boyfriend. Check, check, and check. The twins. Bas. Diggory. Lovegood. Penelope Clearwater, for the exclusive purpose of getting dumped by Draco's mother. Theo and Tracey. Everyone had arrived.

Draco walked down the steps into the garden and found the party in full swing. The band was playing and he spotted Hermione dancing with Harry Potter. Padma was speaking animatedly with the Longbottoms and Tracey. Parvati was doting on Scorpius and the youngest Potter boy, teaching them dances as the band played. Theo and Bastien were speaking with Dean Thomas while Blaise spoke to … Ron Weasley?

Two guests were keeping to themselves: Penelope Clearwater in one corner, hovering on her phone; Cedric Diggory in the other. Draco made his way to Diggory and nodded to the glass of champagne in his hand.

"Getting an early start?"

Diggory grimaced and revealed, "Roughest week-and-a-half of my life."

"I can tell something is off." Draco asked, "Do you wish to discuss it, or we can go on pretending everything is normal. I have no preference."

"I don't want you to think less of me."

"Mate, my family is a well-documented nineteen generations of assholes. My ability to cast judgement is very narrow."

"Okay. I'll tell you, but …" Diggory closed his eyes and shook his head. "I think something really important in my life just ended and I haven't told anybody."

"Silence from me."

"Your son," asked Diggory, "was he planned?"

"No. Tori and I wanted to wait a couple years, give her the opportunity to jumpstart her career onstage before starting our family."

"How old were you when you became a father?"

"Twenty-eight."

"I really want that." Cedric ran an open palm across his chest. "I want to be a father, but I hadn't found the right woman. When I met Parvati, I didn't believe she was the right one. Great sex, but it was clear early on her parents don't like me. Bas is so perfect for Padma that I can't compare to that."

"You are one of the most respected journalists—one of the most respected men in the country. I find it difficult to believe you don't measure up."

"It's not so much that I don't measure up to Bas, it's that the way I feel for Parvati doesn't equate to what he feels for Padma. The truth is that Parvati is the only person who has always believed we would be married. A couple months ago, I finally began to buy in. We've been together eight months, she wants to be a mum, and she is only a few years younger than I am. The age gap matters to me; I don't intend to be one of the mediocre celebrity men who date women fifteen years their junior because they cannot find a woman their own age willing to put up with them."

"You seem to have a very firm opinion on that subject."

"God, so many of those actors are absolutely witless. Don't even begin to get me started on the idiots in government. People equate money and fame with an ease of life, but there is nothing satisfying about coming home to a dullard every day. I fancy myself to be a bit more than the average celebrity. I think I'm handsome, successful, properly educated … I am the bloody poster boy for the perfect husband, but I can't seem to find a woman that's right for me."

"Not Parvati?"

"I thought it might be." Cedric sighed. "We were in such a good place. Everything about her makes sense and I believed we made each other happy. We moved in together a couple months ago and it has been nice. Being with her is comfortable. She's a translator for a number of government departments, which makes things difficult on occasion because there are parts of what she does that she cannot share simply because I am a high-profile journalist. But we were working on it."

"Until whatever happened last week," guessed Draco.

Diggory glanced around, making sure everyone was involved in other conversations. He lowered his voice and said,

"Last Monday, while I was getting ready to go on air, Ti had a miscarriage."

Draco squeezed Cedric's shoulder and tried to avoid any other indication he'd just revealed something. Eyes were on them, but there were no words for that kind of pain. Everyone had tried to find the words for his grief after Tori died. Sorry for your loss. Whatever you need, I'm here for you. She was a ray of sunshine in a dark world. He received every prosaic message in the book. But the pain wasn't really about himself at the end of the day, it was the Astoria-shaped hole that would forever exist in his son's life.

There were no words to soothe that ache. What Draco needed in his grief was someone to hold him while he fell apart. He needed people to keep the world moving around him as he picked the broken pieces of his heart up off the floor. He had no use for the platitudes that came his way in droves.

"We didn't even know she was pregnant, must've been six or seven weeks. I came home to find her half-naked, sobbing on the bathroom floor. I feel like proper shit not being there. But worse because she didn't feel like she could call me. She believed work, being on-air, was more important than her very real pain. Thing is, I wasn't upset about the miscarriage itself because Ti is more important to me than any pregnancy. To me, I lost something I didn't know I had. Parvati sees the situation very differently."

"How?"

"This past Monday, I took the night off. Hermione did the broadcast on her own, spectacular as always, and I asked Parvati to marry me. She said no. And—" Cedric downed the entire glass of champagne in a single go then exhaled quickly through his teeth. "Her reasoning was, 'I look at you and all I see is my own failure.' She asked me to leave our flat. I have spent the past three nights in a hotel and the only reason we're here together is because she hasn't told Padma."

"Oh."

"I ache for her. I tried so desperately to tell her that it is not a failure. We can try again, we have years to try again. She's thirty-four! Parvati will be a great mother and I would be a great father. Unfortunately, this is an obstacle I don't believe we can overcome."

Draco hesitantly asked, "Do you want my opinion?"

Diggory nodded.

"Parvati is a bright woman, and I think she knew you weren't keen on making this permanent. If having kids is something you both are clear that you want, it is a team sport. When Tori and I found out she was pregnant, we had a real conversation about it. If either of us didn't feel ready, we were not going to take that on. If Parvati felt she was on thin ice with you to begin with, then she believes she failed to give you a child you really want … Perhaps she viewed the proposal as your pity instead of your commitment."

Diggory placed the champagne glass on a nearby table.

"Maybe it was."

Draco let that sink in. Diggory was a good man. Bastien had nothing but excellent things to say about him, and Bas had no qualm about giving his (often very accurate) assessment of people. Hell, Draco started watching BBC News at Ten before Hermione even joined because he trusted Diggory to report the facts. Parvati was a fascinating woman, strong in nearly every area of her life except this one. They looked great together on paper, but—

"Do you think you're trying to fit a woman into your life who isn't quite what you really want?"

"I dunno what it feels like." Diggory conceded, "Bastien knew. When you met your wife, you knew. It took you, what, one date with Hermione? I saw with my own eyes what happened when Zabini met Dean Thomas and look at them, not two months later. I want to have that feeling and I don't. It's not even Parvati's fault, I fucking love her. I wanted to marry her because our life is nice, but when I look around at all of you it's more than nice. I want the more."

"Do you want advice right now, or do you just want me to clap you on the shoulder and say I get it?"

"Advice. God, I'm desperate for somebody to just tell me what to do."

"Right, a few months ago Blaise came to me with almost the exact words you're saying now. He was going to sell his house and return to Italy permanently because he hadn't found the man he wanted to marry. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Blaise: you will not find the proper love when your life is unsteady. When you look around and decide you are at peace with what life looks like, 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. You've been chasing it. The day Blaise said he felt settled in his home is the day he met Dean."

"Oh."

"My advice is that you tell Parvati how much she means to you. That you understand she can't go on with you after this, and you are disappointed she didn't phone you when she was in what I imagine is the worst pain she's been through. It speaks to the fact that you aren't right for each other no matter how much love you share. Look at Blaise, yeah? He was my first love and my third. I love him. I still love him as far more than my best friend. Far more. The way I know Hermione still loves Ron Weasley. Thing is, Blaise has found someone better than me. Dean Thomas is better for him than I am and everyone can see it, just as I am clearly superior to Weasley."

Diggory smiled just the slightest bit and said, "You had to get that in there, didn't you?"

"I really did."

"You and Zabini, how did you stay friends afterward?"

"He dumped me because I was a mess. I was not really a man until he left me, then I had to wake up to the reality of the world around me. I told him as much; he helped me become a better man and I wanted him around to see what that looked like. My marriage to Astoria was his success story just as much as it was mine."

Diggory nodded.

"I like that, thank you. I …" He frowned. "I think I really needed to hear that."

"It hurts like hell."

"Not any more than the pain I felt coming home to find Parvati the way I did. I will never forgive myself for her not calling me. She should have felt that I would be there, and she didn't. That's on me. I think that, more than anything else, signals to me what you suggested is the proper course."

"I hope it works for you."

"Thank you."

Draco turned toward the bit of the garden where more people had joined in on the dancing. He intended to cut in on Potter and take a moment with Hermione, but Diggory called after him.

"Malfoy?"

Draco turned around to face him again.

"The jacket looks good on you."