Chapter Text
Draco Malfoy knew his name would forever tarnish pieces of his life he had never experienced before. What was once a symbol of pride and power was now nothing more than a star that had finally burned out in the wake of the end of the war.
He knew the public would never treat his family with the same begrudging respect they once had. This truth buried in his heart leaving only anguish in him, burrowing even deeper every time his mother came home with spoiled food and bruises; ruining any possible form of honor or dignity she once held herself with.
It was because of this that he took over every aspect of protecting his family, he took over the finances, at least what was left of the quarter that was not seized by the ministry. He took over the role of going out to get the food and in turn experienced the beatings in alleyways, sneers, being thrown out and overall ostracization.
He forced himself to take it in stride, only letting himself cry from the bruises and cuts in his private lonely company. The only thing that kept him on his wobbly feet was the truth that his mother would no longer endure the same treatment.
He went through with an arranged marriage as was his duty, somehow a proposal hadn't been retracted from the Greengrass family.
Though now he was wed to the younger sister rather than Daphne, the eldest. It had made Draco curious, why would the Greengrass' allow any one of their daughters to be connected with him and therefore subjected to the same treatment he was?
The answer was simple: he learned, Astoria had fallen in love with another man, a muggle-born. Ironically a death eater in their eyes was better than a mud-blood who had fought against Voldemort and won.
It was a peculiar situation, the two pure-bloods had never interacted before. Being in separate years and Draco needing only to focus on his impending engagement to Daphne had allowed for the pair to ignore each other quite easily.
Astoria had shown her distaste in him immediately, reminding him that he was ruining her shot at true love. But alas the two decided to ignore the clear hostility between them to focus on retaining any form of dignity they could with the public.
Not that there was much dignity Astoria could keep for herself, once the public realized she went from being a neutral Slytherin to marrying the only Death Eater still free from bars.
Overtime they even fell in love somehow, in their own settling type of way, sadly enough they had already had two children by this time, but who else could judge their circumstances.
Her previous love had fallen in love with someone else and he had made his stance on Astoria marrying him clear, if the bruise she had on her cheekbone after talking with the man was any indication.
Draco, burning with guilt that the persevering duty of marrying Astoria to help his mother caused the brunette's injury and heartache helped console Astoria that night. She had slapped him and hurled insults as he held her, but even then neither pulled away choosing instead to take solace in the familiar pain their duty inflicted on them.
Astoria had become pregnant the night they had consummated their marriage exactly six months after the end of the war ended on November second.
Even though it had been forced on them and meant a long treacherous road ahead the two were ecstatic. Astoria had already been pulled out of school by the command of her parents, and because she was of legal age, she moved in with Draco not long after.
The couple had agreed to not have their child to be raised in a place that once held so many evil ideals and magic. Narcissa had already moved to France a few months before, which was the punishment decided during her trial, complete exile from the UK for the rest of her living life.
Draco had wished so desperately to follow her, not wishing her to be alone, but his sentence had been the opposite, confining him to only be in the United Kingdom for the next sixteen years. One of the guards so kindly informed Draco that the number of years chosen had been based on how old he was when he took the mark.
It was a smart cruel trick to both prevent Draco from being with his mother and from allowing him to finish the education needed to start his life. As part of his punishment he was banned from ever stepping foot in Hogwarts again, and ironically enough Hogwarts was the only Wizarding School in the United Kingdom.
But still, Astoria and Draco agreed that once his sentence was over they would follow his mother to France to both protect their family and start anew.
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Altair Mira Malfoy was born in 1999 on July 31st, the universe seemed to be on a role for trying to ruin any small happiness Draco had. The reasoning for this, Altair was born on the same day as the Savior of the Wizarding World. Pansy and Blaise had laughed when he told them but Astoria refused to allow another person who they never talked to ruin anything concerning her precious brown haired and hazel eyed son, so the life of Altair was never announced to the world.
Altair was a perfect combination of his parents somehow, although to most he would look like his mother at first glance he was made up completely of his fathers features.
He had Draco's eye shape, nose, chin and eyebrows while having his mothers coloring. Though sometimes even then his coloring seemed to change, but only in his eyes.
Some Days they were their normal brown or gray tint while on other days there was a green in them that overpowered any other color.
It was two years full of life for the couple, with the birth of their son their life was renewed with a happiness and contentment the couple thought unattainable. Draco had spent his time getting second hand education by an unpopular potions master whilst juggling raising their son.
Narcissa was beside herself, crying every time she was sent a memory of her new grandson and a multitude of pictures she put up onto every somewhat clear surface she could. The Greengrass family were completely ecstatic for the new son, they now had a male heir that could represent their family that was clearly of Greengrass blood through and through.
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But at the beginning of 2002 Astoria learned she was pregnant with their second child.
With the second pregnancy they were just as happy, if not more, they were both creating a bigger family like they had wanted. Astoria had expressed her wish for a daughter and Draco had responded with his own wish of their son not being lonely like he was as an only child.
With the both of them home constantly the two could focus completely on raising their children to be happy, and of course Draco was still taking the time needed to be prepared to become a full fledged potions master when they could leave for France to provide for a good life.
It was as if the world had decided they deserved the chance to be good parents. Draco couldn't even bring himself to be affected by the treatment he received when buying their baby supplies, his heart and mind was completely enraptured by the impatience of wanting to have their second baby already.
Their Altair was growing up inexplicably happy, he was a rambunctious toddler who loved spending his time watching his mother garden. Everyday when she woke up even before Draco, Altair would wake up as well to go outside with her. Astoria told Draco later that she suspected it was because he loved the butterflies that were always in the garden; Draco kindly informed her she was too good of a mother if she was refusing to think of the possibility that she was Altair's favorite.
Even with her growing pregnancy bump Altair would run up to her to give her stomach kisses before smiling up at his mom and giving her a hug.
Draco of course was right about Astoria being their son's favorite but it never bothered him, he had his own special bond with his son that he loved. His boy had a tendency to sit on his lap when they were having a meal or snack. As he did this often without a word he would turn around and press his forehead to Draco's for a moment, then return back to his food.
The couple couldn't figure out where this habit came from but Draco took it with pride getting to hold his son close to him every day.
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Their happiness all came to a stop during an August afternoon when Astoria was 24 weeks pregnant. Draco had been called to meet with one of the aurors after he was supposedly spotted poking his head around in Knockturn Alley by a wizarding couple.
Astoria was meant to see her sister in Diagon Alley at the same time, Draco was supposed to stay behind with Altair but because of the last minute meeting they were forced to compromise with Altair going with Astoria.
It had been a great afternoon for the mother and son, spent sharing their butterbeer and blowing bubbles with the straws.
Due to Astoria almost never leaving the house ever since her pregnancy with Altair most people didn't even pay attention to look at her, it had been a good few years since she had been in the public eye.
Astoria and Daphne caught up talking about anything and everything, though of course Astoria's anything and everything was composed of the young boy next to her. It had been a happy hour and a half before Astoria decided it was best to get back to see how the meeting went for Draco.
After they had bid Daphne goodbye the mother and son went to one of the apparition points, they were planning to return home and make some dinner to help cheer up Draco from the constant hassle of the ministry.
The apparition point was in a hidden back alley, it was one that no one had used and was why Draco and Astoria agreed was the best one to use for their protection.
But on their way they were suddenly bombarded by a flurry of black coats and evil grins, Astoria was kicked down and beaten along with her son. They wore strange masks that only exposed their cheery fanatic grins.
Astoria was overwhelmed both physically and emotionally as she was forcefully held down whilst still trying to figure out who the group was and why they were here after them. A quiet voice in the back of her mind reminded her of who she was married to, but her thoughts and emotions were too frantic the thought passed by without a second thought.
She screamed and cried straining against the four attackers holding her while they kept her head pointed at her struggling, watching them laugh at her shrieking son.
Unlike Astoria, somehow there were more attackers focusing on her son, they sneered and laughed as they tore his clothes, tugging on his hair lightly dragging their knives across his neck and shoulder leaving behind trickles of blood.
One of them pulled Altair's left arm out but when he kept struggling the hooded figure slammed the arm backwards forcing the boy's arm to break at his elbow. His screams were too high pitched and painful for no one to hear but no one came.
All Astoria could do was continue her pleas for them to take her instead and leave him alone. But the two men holding her head merely whispered their own assurances that she would get what was coming to her next. They lightly stroked down her back and stomach whispering how they had always been curious how on how fucking a pregnant woman felt like, tightening their grips suggestively which only made Astoria whimper more.
Her baby was still crying out and trashing except now his cries were composed of calls for his mom and dad to help. Because now, the man that had broken his arm was now using a knife to carve the familiar symbol that tainted his fathers skin into Altair's own nonfunctioning arm.
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They weren't found until forty five minutes later by Daphne, who had gone to get some supplies for her owl before coming to the same apparition point to go home.
But as the elder sister turned into the alleyway she came to the scene of her passed out, profusely bleeding pregnant sister and a dead Altair.
She immediately sought for help sending her patronus to Draco and screaming bloody murder, she went to Altair first, he was closer. But as she was inspecting him had to move away or else she would have thrown up from the gruesome state of his body.
She went to her sister praying, hoping, begging she was alive as she tried to wake up her barely breathing sister. She couldn't even figure out how to stop the blood flowing from the carved symbol on her stomach and other slashes across her thighs and arms.
Her clothes were completely unrecognizable and Daphne wasn’t even sure she could consider them clothes anymore. There was a mixture of blood, spit, and even semen all over her body allowing for the small to stick to her.
Daphne couldn’t help but gag as she sobbed using her sweater to try and wipe off the mess and help stop the blood flow. With each swipe over her body her sister began to find more and more markings made on her sister, with the ‘Death-Eater Whore’ etched inside her thigh.
Help came that didn't seem fast enough and Astoria was taken to St. Mungos while Altair was left behind at the crime scene, his hazel eyes staring up at the open sky with a lone tear that lay still on the side of his face.
Draco showed up not even a few seconds after Daphne did at St. Mungos, but all he saw was his wife being taken away.
He had looked at his sister in-law with wide horrified, broken eyes, the questions clear on his face. But when he spoke his words, questioning where his son was and if he was okay Daphne collapsed onto the floor; the tears were flowing with vigor as she let out heart wrenching cries mixed with screams that had patients and nurses moving away from.
Draco Malfoy was told then through her frantic cries that she had found them in the alley they used and that his wife and unborn baby were possibly, probably, dying. While his son, oh god, his first son was dead, beaten, broken and with clear dark marks carved into both his arm and his stomach. Except the one on his stomach was not merely carved slightly by a knife, but the entire knife had been shoved into his chest before whoever did it began carving.
She was hyperventilating as she told him that the carving in the stomach was jagged as if he was struggling as they gutted him to make the symbol. The nearest nurse shuddered as Draco responded, a series of quiet but rejecting pleas. He hasn't done anything, he’s my boy, he's only two Daphne! NO ONE COULD EVER BE THAT EVIL DAPHNE.
Draco was going out of his mind, the two clashing sides of him, one destroyed with no hope of being fixed again, and another angry, vengeful and in denial of anything happening to his son of this scale. Without a thought Draco ran out of the building apparating on the spot.
But the sight before him crumpled any sort of denial that allowed Draco to still move and not break down on the spot.
The Aurors were already there taking photos of his dead two year old son and talking to each other. Their faces were grim but when they saw Draco their eyes turned different, some held anger, others pity, anguish, disgust. Any form of negative emotion they could have, they did.
Some aurors stepped forward informing him it was a private investigation and he needed to leave. They even grabbed at him as if to remove him from the premises but a sharp whistle from one of the older aurors in the back forced them to stop and take a step back.
No one said anything watching the last free death eater walk forward lifelessly.
As he reached his son he collapsed beside him, reaching his shaky hands out to cup his son's face and brush away the strand of hair in his face. His lifeless eyes were now closed and his face was paler than usual, spit and vomit on his mouth and tears stains on the side of his face mixed with the dirt and gravel on the ground.
Draco ignored the mess, choosing to lean his forward to touch his forehead with him letting out a broken sob; his own tears rolling down his cheek on his sons mixing Altair's dry tears with Draco's fresh ones.
Which part made him die? He had whispered without opening his eyes or taking his forehead away from his son, he knew once he did he would never be able to touch or see him again.
The auror that had stopped the others had spoke quietly in response, telling him how there were heavy signs of the cruciatus curse and along with the cuts and blunt trauma sustained to his sons small body as well as the trauma occurring to his stomach his body gave out before he could die from the blood loss.
With each added detail of his sons torture Draco’s silent whimpers grew as his body shook even more, a few of the aurors even had to turn away their own hearts not being able to take in the scene.
Draco tuned out the rest of the world, forcing himself to drink up his last moments with his boy, silent prayers in his mind. Bonne nuit ma vie.
The goodbye left his lips like a whisper as he opened his eyes looking at him one last time. His lips trembled as more tears trickled down his face. Draco couldn't breathe enough, the gasps and shuddering breaths escaping him as he memorized every single part of his small broken beautiful son. He lent down, placing one final kiss on his forehead the saltiness of his tears lingering on his lips.
He rested both his hands on the sides of Altair's head moving them up and down to frame his face and stroke his hair as if he was fixing a strand of hair. His beautiful, lovable, innocent baby boy.
With a final pet of his hair Draco got up stumbling to lean against the wall, the gasps were constant now as if moving away from his son was too much pain to bear, which of course it was. He couldn't bring himself to look at the aurors instead turning to the apparition point, each step was a crack in his resolve. How could he be expected to leave his reason for living in a dirty alley like this? Like he's nothing more than evidence for the aurors rather than their Altair.
He turned around with one ending glance, he wiped off the tears that were obscuring his vision from his last look of Altair. But he involuntarily made eye contact with one of the men there, the one that had spoken.
He sucked in a harsh breath at the pure emotion on the man's face but he showed no reaction of accepting his understanding. He instead spoke a harsh and sad truth, he told them how even though they may hate him and see him either as a no good kid that stuck his nose in a place it didn't belong and got the death mark for it. Or saw him only as the rest of the public did, a spiteful Slytherin who's evil to the core. But that whatever they think doesn't matter, because at this moment he's a father who just lost his son.
So if they didn't try their absolute damnedest to find out who did this and serve justice. Then he would use what he was forced to learn in the ranks of the Death Eaters to make sure no one ever forgot that they allowed a two year old innocent boy to go through this mutilation to not be allowed peace that him and his mother's attackers are no danger to someone else.
And with a final wistful glance to Altair, Draco left.
The tears couldn't be stopped now, they fell silently but consistently as he entered the St. Mungo’s lobby again taking a seat next to now, the rest of the Greengrass family.
No one spoke, instead they huddled together ignoring the dirty looks cast Draco's way until one of the healers reentered the lobby looking grim.
She had come to a stop in front of them, they must have been a sight for sore eyes. Draco's tears had a permanent line on cheeks, his face was blank with red eyes; and Daphne had stopped crying while he was gone but looked about to burst any second. While Arabella and Florian Greengrass huddled together refusing to look at anyone.
The healer informed them then that while they were both alive, they had to take their baby out early because of the strain it was having on Astoria. And right now the baby has a thirty-five percent chance of survival.
Draco's eyes had teared up even more, a shaky breath escaping him as he looked up at her for the first time. His voice broke as he whispered quietly, I have a son?
With the question leaving his lips both Daphne as well as her parents let out different cries each leaning on each other for support.
The healer tightened her lips but gave him a sincere expression and gave him a quiet congratulations.
Draco's lips wobbled and he squeezed his eyes shut covering his mouth with his hand as he leaned forward putting all his effort into not finally breaking.
The healer tightened her grip on her hands refusing to show any ounce of unprofessionalism. She as well as the other healers working on the case understood what kind of man Draco Malfoy, he was not a good man, but no one deserved this.
It wasn't until Draco was left alone at his wife's bedside that he let out all his regret. He cried loud and hard, so much so that it hurt his chest every time he took a breath. He murmured over and over again his apologies until he passed out, his position bent forward to rest his head on the bed.
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When Astoria fell in love with Draco it was only once they already had two kids, but the sad truth was that one of them was dead. It was a sick joke in her opinion, because the truth was, she only fell in love with her husband because of the loss of their son.
Draco had decided to prevent any more contact with the public wizarding world. They now stayed in their house and rarely went out. Draco only left the walls in order to go to muggle stores to get supplies.
They had become hermits but neither could bring themselves to regret it. Draco only cared about keeping his family safe and Astoria could barely bring herself to leave their bed.
Their garden was now a ghost of its former self , much like how Astoria felt. Instead of the vibrant greenery that always made her smile, the area was now wilted and dead, and the butterflies no longer visited as if they knew they wouldn't see the familiar boy that loved to play with them.
Draco often would look outside the kitchen window when he was cooking. It was all he could do to not remember the mornings when he would wake up after his wife and their son and come out to make breakfast and watch his family outside. When Altair would be giggling or talking with the butterflies that fluttered around him with his mom tending to her flowers with a beautiful smile.
But life was now changed for the both of them, the people they were before and the people they are now, irreconcilable.
Astoria found herself changed but not for the better, she could barely bring herself to interact with her new son.
It pained her but it was impossible, how was she supposed to get past her child being murdered in front of her? To still hear his cries and screams in her mind and in her dreams, to see his terrified eyes staring at her and arms reaching out for her.
The love of her life, her whole reason for living, was dead and on the same day that ruined her life, Scorpius was born.
Astoria knew Draco could not understand her pain in the same way. He hadn't been forced to experience the horror she had, and she knew in his own way he was glad he hadn't.
But he had told her she needed to understand that he wished she hadn't either. Because they knew their son was good, pure goodness through and through, and it still needed to live on in their hearts.
Because of this he became the one who took care of Scorpius, he bottle fed him (because Astoria couldn't bring herself to do it) changed him, slept with him every night after he helped Astoria sleep along with everything else that was required of him.
He never complained when he paused his studies of potions, or had to continue the house work and living while Astoria stayed in their room. Because in the end she wasn't ready and he couldn't force her to move on for his own benefit.
So instead he spent his days with his son, watching him grow, even if he was substantially smaller than Altair had been. Everyday he was thankful that they hadn't lost him too, even if Astoria couldn't bring herself to care for Scorpius for now. Draco knew that if they had lost him too that day they would have been broken for the rest of their lives.
He spent his nights holding Astoria as she cried and begged for her baby to come back. Or made love to her to make her forget per her request before going back to the room down the hall to sleep with his son.
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Not even eight months later Astoria was pregnant again, when she found out she had screamed and cried all the way home. It had only been a month and a half since she had willingly stepped foot outside her house, and even then all she had done was sit on the bench on their porch. When she saw Draco she yelled at him cursing him for what he had done to her and their kids.
He had been shocked seizing up when she threw herself at him, she was throwing weak half-hearted punches into his chest. But when he came somewhat back to his senses he wrapped his arms around her both to prevent her from moving and to console for whatever called her outburst, as he did not yet know.
Thankfully Scorpius had been asleep in his rooms upstairs that he didn't wake up during Astoria's outburst but Draco lightly shushed to help her come down from her emotions.
She did calm down after some time defeatedly slumping against him as she told him she was pregnant again. Draco had unwillingly tightened his grip on her as his heart skipped a beat, but he ignored his body's response calmly informing her the choice was up to her if she wanted to go through with the pregnancy.
She had tried to argue with him again about how their families would never let her decide that there was a choice in the matter. But Draco had merely placed a light kiss on her forehead whispering light reassurances before taking her up to their bedroom to put her to sleep.
In the end she chose to go through with it, neither of them confronted the reasoning but they knew it was her last ditch effort to help her get over her grief. She thought, maybe with this one she would get a child that made her happy instead of one that only made her remember the worst day of her life.
Her hope for a girl did come true on October Ninth in the form of not one, but two daughters.
Her first daughter, Cedrella, was completely beautiful. When Astoria held her for the first time she could feel that part of her that had shriveled up and died renewed itself at least the tiniest bit. All she wanted was to hold her for the rest of the night.
Draco watched from his spot on the side of her and let his own smile grace his features, somehow beyond expectations this pregnancy was looking to have had a positive effect on his wife. But the pregnancy wasn't over like they expected.
Alcyone was a complete, and secretly unwelcome, surprise, at least to Astoria. Astoria had only wanted to continue holding her precious blonde daughter but instead she felt more pain flow through her. And the midwife informed her she had another baby on the way.
When Astoria saw her for the first time, of course, all it brought was pain. She looked so similar to her Altair, and it made some sad dark part of her wish Alcyone was a boy so she could pretend it was her Altair.
The birth of the twins somehow rejuvenated Astoria enough that Draco was hopeful things were going to get better, but not long after Draco would realize Astoria's newfound happiness and mother instincts were centered around Cedrella.
She was subtle but Draco noticed it easily, every time she breast fed she would ask that Draco bottle feed Alcyone. Her reasoning being that Cedrella tired her out and took too much of her milk. She must've thought him an idiot to think he wouldn't notice she used Cedrella as an excuse every opportunity that she had to breastfeed, but never fed Alcyone first.
But still, she smiled easier in a way now, even if she still paid minimal attention to Scorpius who was now a year and four months old.
It bothered him greatly to see the clear neglect she bestowed on her other two children but he said nothing, Astoria's emotions were too complex for him to understand. And when he made an effort to understand those complex emotions he was met with her lashing out or breaking down before going to hide in their room, or more often than not, Altair's room.
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A little less than three years later Draco and Astoria had their final child, but by now there was something more dark hanging over the pregnancy than usual. This is because over the years Astoria had begun succumbing to a genetic curse.
Draco had done his best to convince her to get rid of the child, reminding her how she was recklessly endangering herself for more children when she didn't want anymore. But she refused, insisting it was their son being reincarnated to live the life he was meant to.
Eventually the eight months were over, but not without great difficulty, the curse and her pregnant body were barely surviving. The danger was looming over more than ever when their private healers chose to induce her into birth early, they told him the reason for this was how physically frail she was now. If they waited for the actual due date she and the baby would not survive.
The decision was in vain though, Astoria passed away during childbirth, and left in her wake was a small bundled up baby boy.
As Draco held their final son for the first time he cried.
He cried for his firstborn that deserved so much better, he cried for the affliction his children would forever face for having him as a father, he cried because he knew Astoria was wishing for her death, and he even cried because he knew his baby and wife were now together in their afterlife.
His children entered with their own curious faces, met with the sight of their dad shakily sobbing on the couch with a white sheet pulled over a person on the bed.
Scorpius who was now a little over four years old went to his dad first. His three year old sisters followed after him and each piled on the couch wrapping their arms around him as best they could.
Feeling his children’s arm holding onto him only made him cry harder as he moved one arm to firmly hold the newborn in order to allow his unoccupied arm to somewhat wrap around them.
Mommy is gone? Scorpius had whispered looking up at his heartbroken dad. Draco pulled back to look at his son reaching his hand to lightly stroke Scorpius' cheek.
Draco mournfully told them yes she was and Scorpius’s own eyes welled up with tears before he stuffed his face into his dad’s side.
Alcyone spoke next quietly asking about their brother, her eyes were focused on the sleeping baby and Cedrella brought her own hand up to gently cup the back of his head, her own eyes with silent tears.
Draco wasn’t sure how long they all sat there, each letting their own tears run in the same room as their dead mother. The children weren’t shocked, Astoria had spent many nights telling them about what would likely happen, and at this point almost all their tears had run.
Even so young they knew throwing a tantrum would do nothing to change the reality, so they took solace in their father and each other’s warmth.
Your mother gave us her final gift.
Draco had spoken sincerely and his three children each gave their own sad smiles.
And with a final sigh Cedrella asked if they could all stay with him for the night, their aunt and grandparents would be back tomorrow having already left and needing to cry in their own houses.
And then the preparations for Astoria’s rest would begin.
With a soft warning that their brother would likely cry Draco agreed though his two daughters paid no heed to the warning, choosing to walk out the door and set up the room and change, it had been a long day for all of them.
But not before each girl gave a soft kiss to the forehead under the white sheet on the bed.
"Papa, are we okay?"
His blonde son looked so scared as he voiced his question, Draco let out a small sigh staring down at his son that looked so similar to him.
"Yes my life, we are okay and we will be." Draco stroked his hair, Scorpius still seemed skeptical but his attention quickly focused on his little brother who had moved slightly.
"What's his name Papa?" Draco gave a small uncommitted sound and Scorpius' brows furrowed.
"You didn't choose it yet?"
"No I did not, do you have an idea in mind?"
His eldest seemed unsure with the question but he gave a serious hum putting a finger on his chin.
"Oh I know! He can be Regulus!" He exclaimed while Draco raised an eyebrow, "Why Regulus?"
This caused Scorpius to scoff, "Papa! You said in the story Sirius and Regulus are brothers! They help heros! And I'm Sirius!"
Draco gave a thoughtful hum. "That is a great idea ma vie, now how about you go tell your sisters your brothers new name after you change?"
Scorpius nodded excitedly then hastily made his own exit, but he slowed down quickly, remembering suddenly where they still were.
He walked back over to the bed that held his mother reaching out with his hand to grab his mom’s own. We’ll be okay. He whispered leaning down to leave his own kiss on her forehead, shutting his eyes as he did so.
Scorpius opened his eyes not leaning back fully yet, as if to take in his mother one final time but she was still hidden under the sheet.
And with a resolute look Scorpius took a step back from her and turned leaving the room.
Draco let out a tired sigh standing up while keeping Regulus in his arms to walk over to the bed that still held his wife following his kids steps. He pulled the sheet back enough to see her face a final time and leaned forward to rest his forehead to hers.
"Bonne nuit ma vie."