Hermione said yes.
It was a perfect proposal; Draco knew he tailored it to the proper moment. The three of them as a family, reading Scorpius a story written by Hermione's longtime friend and illustrated by his favourite artist. The proposal was just as much about Scorpius as it was Hermione. She was surprised, Scorpius was surprised, and they were well on their way to becoming the happy family Draco never truly believed he could have. Once Astoria was so cruelly taken from his life, he never believed this sort of happiness could be returned to him. Halfway through Hermione's birthday, he felt the darkness coming around again.
But why?
He and Hermione dropped Scorpius off at school. Blaise was out at the restaurant, Dean was teaching, and one thing led to another which led to another and …
"I enjoy this more when we don't need to be so quiet." Hermione grabbed one of his t-shirts from a drawer then plopped onto the bed at Draco's side. She grinned and said, "This is the perfect way to begin a day."
Looking at her just then, lying in bed next to him, her nipples visible through the thin fabric of the t-shirt, it felt too perfect. Something was off, but Draco didn't want to let it show. He placed his hand on Hermione's stomach and agreed,
"If we could start every day like this, life would be far more manageable."
Hermione twisted the engagement ring around her finger and said, "I've been thinking." She shrugged her good shoulder, almost as if she had entirely forgotten how to move the left one. "Ti and Ced will be getting married next year."
"Yes."
"Blaise and Dean will be married at the end of this year."
"Mhmm."
"Padma will have a baby early next year—"
Draco's heart skipped a beat as he asked, "Sorry, what?!"
"Oh." Hermione blushed and admitted, "I suppose I wasn't supposed to mention that—"
"Bas mentioned he had his vasectomy reversed less than three months ago. Bloody hell, barely more than two months ago, it seems. They're already—"
"She's nearly two months along. I'm not sure her heart is in it, though I'd never admit that to anyone else."
"Many people would say the same of you if we were to …" Draco trailed off before deciding to confirm, "If you wanted to give Scorp a sibling. Your ex-husband comes to mind rather immediately. Sometimes it isn't choosing the life you want that makes you happy. The choice is difficult, and only once it arrives can you express how right of a decision it was."
Hermione nodded, "That's fair. Ron's opinion on the matter is none of my concern. He left me, so he can deal with the consequences."
"The consequence being I am the happiest I have been in longer than I care to admit." Draco pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. "Now, what is it you've been thinking about?"
"Everyone is making these massive life choices that deserve to be celebrated." Hermione stared up at the ceiling. "Our friends are making fundamental changes to their lives, but being married won't change much of anything for us. I don't believe I want a big wedding. I don't even know if I want a cake. I want to marry you, I want to say, That's my husband, Draco Malfoy. I want to introduce myself to people as Hermione Malfoy-Granger. I'm ready, but that's just it; I'm already ready. I don't need the spectacle."
Draco understood, but didn't quite know what to say.
"Perhaps," offered Hermione, "we could do something small. My closest friends, your closest friends, and a dress I find at a shop somewhere?"
"I don't know whether I like the idea."
"Give it some consideration and let me know." Hermione smiled and said, "I'll miss this place once we move. It's become a bit like home, more than my penthouse ever was."
Draco teased, "Only you could find a way to be upset about a penthouse."
"Life moves rather quickly, and that place feels like a lifetime ago." Hermione laced her fingers together and stared at them resolutely when she said, "I want to invite my parents."
That was a win for them all. Scorpius had lost out on a set of grandparents, and to give him a true substitute? Draco could hardly ask for anything more. He suspected Hermione's mother was merely at her wit's end when she arrived in London weeks earlier. There were bridges to be mended and more to be built.
"I will be happy to have them there." He conceded, "I don't believe Blaise will ever like your mother, though. A poor first impression to say the least."
"I won't begrudge him; I don't like her much of the time."
"You know I would proclaim my love for you in front of the entire world, yeah?"
Hermione blushed and said, "Of course."
"If you want a small ceremony, so small it's barely a ceremony, it seems, then that is your decision. I want what you want."
"I've already had the big wedding—"
"As have I."
"I would rather celebrate the success of our friends than wonder whether our own celebration will inconvenience them."
Draco hummed softly to himself before admitting, "That is a valid concern. I accept it. When would you like to be married, then? Do you have a date—"
"I have a deadline."
"Oh?"
"I return to work on October 7th, so I would like to be married by October 6th."
Draco giggled. Hermione raised her eyebrows, wondering whether she said something wrong.
"No, no, it's only that I'll have had two weddings before Blaise has one, and it will drive him absolutely mad."
.oOo.
Draco sat in the back garden later that afternoon, in Blaise's empty house. Empty save for the maid staff, at least. Hermione was out shopping for a dress to wear at the ceremony they tentatively agreed to. That happy life was coming at him so fast, Draco believed there was no way it could possibly come together. He phoned the person he always called to pull him through the darkness.
"Are you ever going to phone me when you're not in the middle of a crisis?" Theo's voice was clear, if a bit exasperated.
Draco admitted, "Probably not. If I'm fine, I'll text."
"Right. What is it this time, then?"
"I'm going to text you a photograph." Draco pulled up the photo of himself and Hermione taken right after the proposal, with the engagement ring prominently displayed. He sent it to Theo and said, "Last night—"
"MOTHER OF CHRIST, SHE SAID YES?!"
Draco held the phone out from his ear for a moment before confirming, "Yes, Hermione and I are getting married."
"My God, brother, I don't know what to say. If you're ready for this, then I'm happy for you."
Suddenly rather angry, Draco snapped.
"Apologies, I didn't realise I called Bas."
"Oi, don't be a bitch about it. All I'm saying is Hermione Granger deserves a husband who's happy to be married to her. I'm not sure you've fully recovered from your first marriage. That's all I'm saying, brother. I only want you to be ready for her."
"If I wasn't ready then I wouldn't have asked."
"Oh you absolutely would have. She nearly had her arm ripped off again, and you jump into a marriage not three months later? Draco, I've known you forever. I love you. I've known Hermione for years, now. I want you both to be happy, I'd love for it to be together, but you need to take a serious look at yourself and make damn sure you're ready to commit to her the way you committed to Astoria."
"I am."
"Then I'm happy for you."
"Theo."
"D'you want me to say what I'm thinking?"
"Yes, that's why I phoned you."
"You can understand my hesitation, yeah? I mean, the Rolls Royce—"
"Theo."
He was met with silence on the other end of the line.
"I feel like a whole person, now." Draco sighed. "I wasn't before, didn't see how much of myself I'd left in 2013. I'll never be that man again, but I am happier. Now there is a darkness that's come with it, Theo. I feel I don't deserve to be this happy."
Theo wondered, "Do you want a generic, yeah, mate, you're fucking fine, everything's great, happy couple bullshit?"
"I phoned you for honesty."
"This darkness is you realising just how far you will go to protect your family. You feel bad about it because you always believed you were better than your father. In this, mate? I'm afraid you're just like him. You'll go to the ends of the earth to protect your son, and to protect your girl. The difference is you'll be smarter about it."
"Oh." Draco frowned. "Oh, Christ, that's terrible. I fear you're right."
"Like I said, I've known your sorry arse thirty years. I don't believe it's all that terrible, given the sort of people Hermione's pissed off the past ten years. Feel everything, but only act on what's best for your family. You provide for and protect your family so Hermione can do whatever the hell she wants."
"I see."
"You need anything else?"
"I suppose not."
"Congratulations, Draco. Truly, I'm happy for both of you."
"I mostly believe you."
Theo sighed and said, "I care for you. I worry you don't care enough for yourself, is all."
"I know."
"Talk soon."
"Yeah, mate."
Draco ended the call, feeling just like he had with Bastien before the proposal. Everything had been lining up so well that even his closest friends knew there was a domino about to fall. It wasn't two minutes later when he received a call from Trisha Buttermere.
"Trisha?"
"Draco, I am afraid I have rather terrible news."
Draco's heart sank lower and lower until it nearly fell out his bum. This could not be happening. He cautiously said,
"We agreed to exchange and complete on the same day because they promised—"
"I know."
"—they would have all their things moved out at their expense. That is the only reason I agreed to exchange and complete simultaneously. My life is real estate, Trisha, I know better than to make stupid choices."
"I know."
"They sent photographs of the moving progress."
"Yes, they did. Were I to send you photographs now, you would see that everything has been moved out of the home. However, the owners decided they were rather partial to their location. It's difficult to find a secure home in London these days—"
"Which is why I paid for it." Draco begged, "Please don't tell me the sale's fallen through, Trisha. Anything but that."
He could almost see her shaking her head.
"They've decided to keep their house, and you have no leverage because they paid for the expense of moving out."
"This is twenty-three million pounds, Trisha. They're torching a sale of that magnitude?" He hedged a moment before asking, "They know who I am?"
She confirmed, "They know who you are."
"What if I offer another million—"
"No, Draco." Trisha said, rather morosely, "It's done. I'm sorry, I didn't want to do this because Ms. Granger would adore that library."
"Yes," he agreed, "she would. I suppose it matters not." Draco shook his head and looked around the garden, disappointed this would be his home in London even longer. "It was always coming to this, wasn't it?"
"I'm afraid so. The issue seems to be the garage, mostly."
"Blaise can fit six cars here, in a home of comparable size."
"I also believe Blaise Zabini's known net worth is two hundred billion pounds, and who knows about the wealth he hasn't found yet. Perhaps try to see it from the vantage point of a few massive steps down the income ladder."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"If they weren't inclined to sell they should never have placed it on the market."
"Sometimes," replied Trisha, "you have to live through a decision to know it was the wrong one."
Draco closed his eyes and saw a windshield, a tree, and flashing lights. He shook the memory from his mind and slipped lower on the bench.
"This is fucked, Trisha."
"You needn't tell me—do you know what the commission is on a twenty-three million pound sale?"
"A lot?"
"A lot."
"Right. Thank you for telling me, and I don't hold you responsible for this. I will be telling your boss at Sotheby's that if he intends to send me another seller to fuck me up the arse he will have to leave the country to find work. This is two I've lost now."
"He's a bastard anyway," replied Trisha, "be my guest."
"How is Pansy Parkinson faring? Have you heard?"
"The office loves her. She's at the other London location, but she is doing quite well by all accounts."
"I'm happy to hear that. I was rather uncertain because she's still wary of living in London after all this time. She misses the sun."
"The price we pay to be where we belong, isn't it?"
"It is. I'd say thank you, but … I suppose I'll phone you when I've figured out what I'm truly looking for."
Trisha said, "It's been a pleasure working with you. I'll call you when I find a property that fits both you and Hermione Granger."
"Right, can you keep a secret?"
Trisha's voice was high and excited when she said, "Oh, I love gossip. Do tell."
"If this winds up in the tabloids—"
"It won't, it's just for my health. Gossip feeds the soul, you know."
Draco laughed and revealed, "I asked Hermione to marry me yesterday and she said yes."
He had to hold the phone away from his ear again as Trisha's excited squeal blared through the speaker.
"Oh, congratulations! What wonderful news!"
"Thank you." Draco said, "If my friends reacted like that, I'd be in a better mood."
"They're concerned for you, I'm sure. It's not as though Hermione Granger is without enemies. They'll come 'round." Trisha said, "Thank you for telling me, I am thrilled for the both of you. It's obvious you care for her, and she looks at you with a light in her eyes. Be chatting with you soon."
Trisha ended the call, leaving Draco feeling a bit more upbeat than he had after speaking to Theo. She was right, of course, and Theo was concerned. He never told anyone but Hermione about his suicide attempt, but it didn't take a leap of faith to recognize what had gone on. Blaise would never get over it if he knew.
Draco looked down at his iPhone and sighed, too many calls to make this afternoon. The call he was least looking forward to was the only one remaining. He pressed the number and felt rather like tossing his phone over the wall and running in the opposite direction. The phone rang, rang, and rang until Draco was convinced it would go to voicemail. At the last moment, a hesitant voice asked,
"Wrong number?"
"No, right number, I'm afraid." Draco said, "I need to tell you something."
Weasley revealed, "Hermione told me. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I do appreciate it, sincerely."
"I believe you."
"I'm phoning for two reasons. First, I want you to hear it from me that you are welcome at our wedding. It's one thing for Hermione to say it, but I want you to know I don't plan to pull Hermione away from you."
"Thanks for saying it, but …" Weasley huffed. "I'm going to be vulnerable for ninety seconds, so I need you not to take this like we're mates."
"No chance of that."
"What I'm going to say is for your ears only, and if she ever finds out I'll know it came from you and I will murder you."
"Understood."
"I stayed with Hermione through her recovery. I loved her, I wanted her to heal … I didn't realise that healing meant she'd be going back to do it all again. When your girl chooses to go back to war over her own health, over the idea of making a family with you … She was reckless with both our lives, and I felt she'd been dishonest with me because she didn't want kids."
Draco insisted, "Hermione and I have no clear intention—"
"Don't lie to me, I've seen you together so I know you do. She's going to give you a second child, and it feels like I wasn't good enough. I don't want to be there when you start the journey to the family I wanted from the time I was seventeen."
Draco let that hang in the air for several seconds. He couldn't find it in himself to judge Ron Weasley for feeling that way. He sure as hell wouldn't begrudge him the divorce. Draco couldn't deny what Weasley said, because he was right. Hermione was considering a child, and Draco knew exactly how it felt for someone else to get the life he once wanted.
"You think I don't know what you're feeling, but in two months I'll be the best man at a wedding I hoped for years would be mine. There's a sick heartache that comes with watching your deepest friend marry someone you know is better for them. Dean Thomas is a better man than I could ever hope to be, a better man than any of us could ever hope to be, really."
Weasley confirmed, "We agree on that."
"I am better for Hermione because if she dies in the field, my son has so many people to love him that he'll be fine."
"And you?"
"I'll tell you what I can't tell my friends: I couldn't lose another woman I love. I can't fucking do it, I couldn't go on. My son lived the first six years of his life with a ghost of a father, he'll thrive without me all the same. Blaise will take care of him as well and better than I could. I thought about it once I realised I wanted to marry Hermione. Can my son survive losing another mother and his father? And he can. I know he can."
Weasley offered, "Hermione might give up the field reporting for him."
"No, she won't."
"No," Weasley admitted, "she won't. What's the second thing?"
"Hmm?"
"You said you phoned me for two reasons. The second?"
"Oh. It's a bit more personal."
"More personal than marrying my ex-wife?"
Draco replied, "I need your help with Hermione's wedding gift."
.oOo.
Saturday morning, Draco met his mother outside Travellers Club. The only identification of the building to differentiate it from those on either side of it was a bright gold plaque reading 106 Pall Mall that glinted in the early sunlight. It was an inordinately bright day. Narcissa pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and said,
"My son, you know I detest when the valet needs to park the car so far away."
"Yes, mother."
They climbed the eight steps up to the landing and stared at the curiously unadorned wooden door. Eventually, Narcissa pulled off her driving gloves and placed them in her purse. She wondered,
"Will you tell me why I am needed at this meeting?"
Draco sighed, "No."
Narcissa leaned over and peeked through one of the windows above the flower box.
"So many pompous pricks in there, it's a wonder they don't take up the whole block."
Draco only just choked back a laugh as the door opened to reveal Lord Scrimgeour. He looked exactly the same, dressed in a brown suit that was a bit too big. That was Travellers Club all wrapped up, wasn't it? A dull brown relic clinging to the last vestiges of relevance. He nodded for the Malfoys to enter and said,
"Welcome back."
They followed him to the library and it was one place Draco hadn't missed coming. Meetings here never seemed to have a happy ending. Though he was rather hoping to change that trend. Narcissa looked down at the floor and said,
"Fifteen years we've been ostracized, and in all that time you couldn't change the carpet in this beige hellhole?"
Lord Scrimgeour brought them to a table by the fireplace at the far end of the room. He pulled out Narcissa's chair and Draco sat directly across from him. Lord Scrimgeour was careful to sit in the nineteenth century chair before opening with,
"I know your disdain for this place, but after your son's spat at the Royal Automobile Club, I figured it best to hold this meeting down the street."
"I appreciate it," said Draco.
"The young people on social media seemed to take rather kindly to you defending Hermione Granger and your mother, so it hardly benefits the House of Lords to deny you the peerage any longer."
Draco wondered, "Did video make the rounds on social media?"
"Round and round it went, my boy." Scrimgeour shook his head. "I can acknowledge, now, my timing was rather poor."
"Yes, it was." Draco asked, "Have you come to a more firm decision about the peerage?"
Lord Scrimgeour said, "The House of Lords has agreed to return the peerage to you, Draco, though the seat has been vacated." He turned to face Narcissa and said, "In favourable news, the House of Lords has agreed that the title be returned to you, as well."
Draco watched his mother become eerily still. She focused on a bit of the wall over Lord Scrimgeour's shoulder as she processed this information. Draco had never felt so successful in his life. His mother had done everything for him, put everything on the line including her marriage and this very peerage. The least Draco could do was ensure that after fifteen long years, it was returned to her. Narcissa came to herself quickly and said,
"Of course, as it should be."
"Yes," agreed Lord Scrimgeour, "as it should be. The House of Lords will also issue a full apology for the mistaken prosecution of Duke Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, upon the condition there will be no financial restitution."
Narcissa's face tightened a bit, her eyes narrowed, as though she believed this to be an elaborate prank of some sort. She cleared her throat then asked,
"The House of Lords will admit to framing my husband?"
Lord Scrimgeour said, "We will concede the prosecution was based on fabricated evidence. We will not say who did the fabricating."
"My husband was Julius Caesared by your counterparts, Rufus. Though his death was less instantaneous from the dozen stab wounds to his back. But I …" She looked down at the paper Lord Scrimgeour had pushed toward her. "I am Lady Malfoy once more?"
"Yes, Narcissa." Rufus actually smiled when he said, "You have always been Lady Malfoy to those of us who understand power. Now you are Lady Malfoy even to those who need to be slapped across the face with a title to see it."
Narcissa folded the paper in half and said, "But we cannot ask for financial restitution for the fifteen years my husband was incarcerated?"
"Correct."
"I see. And all this because my son is engaged to the Granger girl?"
"That is the deal we brokered, yes."
"My son may look like his father," Narcissa glanced at Draco before saying, "but he politics like his mother."
Lord Scrimgeour said, "The Granger girl will be running the world someday, and it will be because of that man there." He pointed at Draco and said, "You have played a wonderful hand."
"What hand?" asked Narcissa.
Draco grimaced and admitted, "I don't wish for you to believe asking Hermione to marry me was entirely political—"
"My son, any marriage you enter is political."
"I know the House of Lords has an image problem. The aristocracy and high society are falling quickly out of favour, and I have no need for any of it. My sustainability portfolio will keep me and Scorpius well in the good graces of those who intend to live and work on this planet for the next fifty years. Therefore, I have the upper hand because I have something the House of Lords desperately needs."
"Which is what, precisely?" asked Narcissa.
"Hermione Malfoy-Granger, a fierce advocate for human rights and a trusted journalist. The House of Lords is rather known to be a group of pretentious arseholes who are more than capable of lying to the public and overlooking the needs of ordinary people."
Lord Scrimgeour insisted, "We are not your punching bag—"
"You most certainly are, seeing as we won't be seeking legal remedies for the pain and suffering you caused my family. Rufus made a mistake in offering up the peerage in front of a dozen phone cameras."
"Once the offer was public," Narcissa realised, "it could not be taken back."
"From then, I would've won either way. If I accepted the peerage, I earn my way back into the Malfoy lineage. If I denied the peerage, I am an international drama queen, best known for giving English tradition the middle finger. Either way, I marry Hermione and maintain standing in society. I merely offered the chance for the House of Lords to save itself from becoming a homophobic relic of an institution."
Lord Scrimgeour added, "Some would say I am a homophobic relic."
"Perhaps." Draco smiled. "But you've always known what the future looks like, Rufus. You were hoping I was too far in my grief to realise how much leverage I have. Unfortunately for you, I am my mother's son and learned early on in life how to get what I want. I am grateful to you for returning to the Malfoy family what is rightfully ours."
Rufus nodded politely, then changed the subject.
"My great-niece is going on holiday in the south of France. In my estimate, her dolt of a boyfriend plans to propose." Lord Scrimgeour rolled his eyes and huffed, "She said she wants to go shopping—"
"In the south of France?" Draco scoffed. "You couldn't pick a more pointless holiday."
"No?"
"My son means to say there is nothing you can get in the south of France that you cannot find here in London," said Narcissa. "Now that Brexit has kicked in, the Pound has dipped in relation to the Euro, so it is cheaper to purchase your luxury goods here in London than in Monte Carlo, Cannes, Nice—"
"Christ, Nice is horrible. I know we're French, mother, but Nice? The market in the old town is entirely tourist shops. Not to mention that even in Monte Carlo there are no luxury exclusives available now."
Narcissa replied, "Bentley offers the Continental 24 in Monaco Yellow exclusively to the EU countries."
"Bently?" Lord Scrimgeour huffed. "That's a Britain-based company offering exclusives outside of Britain?"
"Truth be told," said Narcissa, "I've come off them a bit. I'm not such a fan of the ride anymore, and—"
"The—"
"Before you say anything about suspension, Rufus, it's still wallowy."
They spoke of cars for twenty minutes before leaving. Draco drove to lunch with his mother not far behind. Once they reached the valet, Draco was surprised to find himself in a hug. He patted his mother on the back and asked,
"What brought this on?"
Her voice was heavy when she said, "This is the only thing I wanted, Draco. Thank you for giving it to me. I have never been more grateful to have you as my son. You are a true Malfoy, and soon you will become the best patriarch this family has ever known."
Draco's heart was full.
"Thank you, mum. I hope to make you proud."
"You already have, Lord Malfoy."
Draco found himself grinning at the title. He'd truly done it, earned his place in the Malfoy family after his father had tossed it aside. He held his mother close and promised,
"I will protect this family with everything I have to offer."
.oOo.
That was tested rather quickly that afternoon. Hermione, Dean, and Scorpius were out. Only Blaise and Draco remained inside the house. They sat in the snug and sipped from a shared bottle of overly expensive Italian wine. Conversation with Blaise was good, he was far more talkative now that Dean Thomas was in his life. Dean had done wonders for Blaise, and even for Scorpius. That made Draco's stomach turn. Once Draco and Blaise had a decent buzz, the words flowed easily between them.
"I'm learning to knit," said Blaise, "to make mittens. I think it will be nice for Dean to have some that coordinate with his jumpers."
"Scorpius told me he no longer wants to be an F1 driver when he grows up," replied Draco. "He wants to be one of the people who survey trees for a living."
"Survey trees for what, exactly?"
Draco shrugged and said, "I dunno. He wants a job where he can sit and draw trees all day. After a day of work at Malfoy Holdings, a job that's nothing but staring at a bunch of trees sounds like a good fucking career to me."
"I do try to help Scorpius enjoy the slower, peaceful moments in life." Blaise revealed, "Trisha told me the sale fell through on the house in Kensington."
Draco grumbled low in his throat and replied, "Mhmmm." Blaise didn't say anything for several seconds, so Draco filled the silence with, "Never exchange and complete on the same day."
Blaise leaned forward a bit and before he could so much as open his mouth, Draco held up a hand to say,
"No. Stop. I don't wish to hear it."
Blaise gave him a stern look, and didn't lean back. Draco huffed,
"I am not going to continue to be the absent father. I need a house here, in London, I can call home for me and my family."
"I don't believe you do." Blaise insisted, "Your son has a home here. He has lived here with me his entire life—"
"Tread very carefully," spat Draco. "Scorpius is my son, and I want a home here in London precisely to carve the dividing line between 'father' and 'godfather.'"
Blaise stood up and made for the door, visibly upset. Draco didn't feel the anger coming. Since he proposed to Hermione, his politics had come together but his family was falling apart. He half-shouted,
"Go, then! Leave! Because ending things between us is what you're best at, isn't it?!"
Blaise turned and screamed, "There is no line between me and you! I was a father to that boy before you ever were! Who do you think was holding him at three and four when he was crying about how his dad didn't love him?! Who had him christened? Who is teaching him religion? Who changed his nappies and fed him—"
"If you were anything to my son, you were far more of a mother than you were a father!"
The moment he said the words, Draco knew he crossed a line. Blaise appeared stunned, and then like he'd had his heart meticulously sliced and pulled from his chest. Draco stood and insisted,
"I didn't mean that."
"I find it odd that you, of all people," said Blaise, "you would use my sexuality to belittle me, your fiancée, and your wife because of a failure you still refuse to own up to."
"My absence from Scorp's life is not something I shy away from."
"You think I'm too effeminate?" asked Blaise. "Is that what you mean to say?"
"No—"
"Is it the aprons, or is it something more, Draco? Tell me again about the difference between being a mother and a father—"
"I find this lecture a bit ironic seeing as you had neither."
He heard the very moment Blaise's heart shattered. Draco wanted nothing more than to turn back time, grab the words out of the air, and burn them. The look on Blaise's face was an indescribable pain, the look of a man who had been cast aside by the person he cared for most. Draco hadn't meant to say these things. Hell, he didn't even mean them.
"Again," Draco tried to salvage the conversation with, "I didn't mean that."
"I know." Blaise nodded to himself. "You just said it to hurt me."
"I did."
"You said before that leaving you is what I'm best at, when it's my weakness. I love you in quite nearly every way a man can love a person. I ended our relationship, but I did it for you. So you could find the woman you would make a family with. No matter what you say, Draco, being a Malfoy is more important to you than anything. You were never going to marry me—"
"That's not true. I would have, and I asked to marry you. I begged you, even."
Blaise agreed, "You did, at the worst moment of your life. You came to me, forced yourself on me, and said, 'Let's make you a true father to my son.' As though I need your approval? The only person whose opinion matters to me is Scorpius. You wanted me to be a substitute for your wife, which is why I imagine you said, just now, that I am more of a mother than a father. Though you never seemed to mind my cock when you were fucking me."
Draco shook his head and said, "It never mattered that you were a man, you wanted our relationship to end so it ended."
"Because you were using me as a learning lesson, Draco. Nothing more. It wasn't until I cared for your son that you saw me as someone you could spend your life with. By then, I knew I deserved better than the way you saw me. A best friend, a nanny, a good shag once upon a time—"
"You were never that to me, and it hurts me to know you believed as much." Draco frowned, realising he had been not only an absent father, but an absent friend the past six years. "But that's how I treated you. I'm sorry."
Blaise scoffed and said, "No, you're not. If you were, then you would admit I've made this a home for our family. And it is our family. I don't need to be married to you, I don't need to be having sex with you, I love you. I would give up my life for your son without question. Why are you so insistent upon spending tens of millions of pounds on a house when I live down the bloody street? Why are you pulling away from me?"
"Because I don't know how to be a father when you keep doing it better than me!" shouted Draco. "When I see you with my son, I see my own failures. I failed the both of you."
"Yes, and it doesn't matter. You failed me and I am still here because I love you. Your son will love you because even when you do things wrong, Draco, you try to fix them. You keep trying, and you love your son as he is, which is more than any of us can say of your father."
Draco clenched his jaw and gave Blaise a rather stilted nod of agreement. He offered,
"I want another house because I won't be here every day. My son will come home to you, the man who has always cared for him like a father. While I, his actual father, will be either here in a home that is not mine, or away from him in a home that is mine."
"Because he is my godson!" Blaise tossed his hands in the air and asked, "What aren't you understanding? You cannot take away the six years I've been a father to him. I am his godfather, I love him, and that little boy is my life. But he will never have my face, nor my name. You have claim to him that I will never share, and even so I would do everything I have done over again. And again and again and again."
"This is not how Malfoys do things—"
"According to whom?" Blaise shouted, "You are the patriarch! You say what Malfoys do and what they don't do. If you want this to be right, then it is right! But all you've done for the past six years is say I am wrong." He sobbed, "And I fucking hate you for it, but I hate myself more because I'm still here. Still looking after your family because no matter how shit you make me feel, Draco Malfoy, I prefer all of this to living a life without you. It's pathetic. You make me pathetic and yet …" Blaise shrugged. "Yet I still love you."
Aghast, Draco asked, "You think I don't love you?"
"If you loved me, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"You're conflating things that have nothing to do with each other. I love you and would never let anyone else care for my son. I didn't place you as the caregiver for my son over my own mother without reason." Draco shrugged. "All of this has felt like falling into water without taking a breath. I'm getting married again? I'm getting my title back? I've had people murdered? All of it … What am I doing?"
Blaise said, "You're being the father you always wanted. You can do all those things and give your son a community of people to teach him what he needs to learn. I am here to teach him about people, how to respect them, what it means to be a man and gay at the same time."
"Sounds like something Bas's dad would say."
"Who do you think I'm trying to be for him?!" Exasperated, Blaise screamed, "I'm trying to be where you can't be! Lance is all I know about being a father and I've done it the way he would. When Scorpius is thirty-four, searching for where he belongs in life, I will be here to set him straight when he veers off his path. Just as Lance does for you and me."
Oh.
Oh, no.
That made so much sense. Far more sense than Blaise trying to replace Draco as a father. How could he have believed such a thing? All he'd done was break his best friend's heart again. Draco had said things he knew would hurt Blaise and couldn't take them back. He hadn't meant the words, but he said them. Blaise was standing there, offering up his home not only for Draco's son, but for his soon-to-be-wife.
Draco had the best support system in the world, all the money he could ever want, and still managed to trip over his own feet. He looked at Blaise, standing in front of him with tearstained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. It was exactly the same years earlier when Draco made Blaise into nothing more than a shaggable substitute mum. He made the same mistakes over and over again—
"I'm sorry." Draco pulled Blaise into a hug and said, "I'm so, so sorry."
"I don't want you to touch me."
"Well, that's too fucking bad." Draco held him tighter and said, "You are the reason my son and I had a relationship at all. Without you, there is no foundation for it. Without you, I would have become my father. I am so sorry you didn't know that."
"I knew. I didn't know you knew."
"You're not pathetic for loving me. You're not pathetic for loving my son. You have been strong for the both of us while I had my head up grief's arse as far as it could go. I'm pathetic for wanting to avoid acknowledging you rescued my son from me. When we left hospital, I trusted Tori's family with her body, and I had no care for my son. Whomever took him, it was of little concern to me. I'm so fucking happy it was you."
"I know what it's like to be forgotten." Blaise admitted, "I couldn't let your son know, too."
Draco squeezed Blaise even tighter and said, "I think the problem with Malfoy fathers is that no one before me had you at their side."
Finally, Blaise returned the embrace and sighed.
"Draco, you have to let me be part of this family. I cannot have this argument again. I don't believe my heart could bear it."
"I understand, and I'm sorry again for saying …" Draco cringed. "I apologise for saying those things I didn't mean. I would never mean them. I am forever grateful that you're gay because I wouldn't have been able to love you in that way, for however short a time, if you weren't."
"Hermione likes it here. Dean likes it here. Hermione and Dean are close friends, both of whom are stepping into roles as Scorpius's parents. We can all live here." Blaise paused before saying, "I can soundproof the doors better so you can have sex whenever you like. And perhaps even have a closet built for you."
Draco giggled and pulled back just far enough to look Blaise in the eyes.
"You do know my priorities." He wondered, "Can you forgive me?"
"I forgive you only because I know, in your heart, you would never believe those things."
"In my heart, I know that you deserve better than what I could have given you."
"Dean is so different from you. I almost feel we would have robbed each other of better lives by being together."
"We would have been good together, but I like this future with you so much more. Keeping you in my life while watching you find the best, kindest man in the world … I could not have asked for anything more."
"Please," said Blaise, "tell me you will move in. Tell me we can be a full family right here."
Draco offered, "On one condition."
"Yes?"
"I'm not paying rent."