Summary: We must know a person thoroughly before we can love.
1. A Christmas To Remember by luinrina
The silence around me was what I preferred. I had nothing against people or noise of all kinds, but the silence brought the peace I longed for.
And yet, at the same time, to be alone killed me from the inside out. I needed company, craved it desperately. Especially tonight.
Silently, snow fell down, slowly covering houses and trees with a thin white blanket. The trees in the park had long ago fallen into their annual slumber, shredding their green dresses in preparation for the change of year. Naked, their fingers pointed towards the dark navy sky, illuminated only by the twinkling starlight. A dark moon rose for its journey along the horizon.
A small smile played around my mouth while watching this peaceful scenery from where I sat in the living room. I had put my feet up onto the lounge, covering them with a velvet blanket to keep them warm. A cup of hot chocolate sat in my lap, held steady by my hands lying on either side of the cup.
The clock above the mantelpiece started chiming midnight, and I looked up. Draco had yet to come home from work. I wondered what had held him up this time. But whatever it was, I guessed to him it was more important than being at home with his wife at Christmas.
This was why I felt so alone.
I sighed. It seemed as if it would always be the same…
Mr Malfoy paced the room, every few moments nervously looking at the grandfather clock that stood in the entrance hall. With every minute that went by, he also grew angrier, his forehead getting more and more wrinkled. His pale eyes sparkled dangerously.
I gulped as I saw the fury build up within my future father-in-law; I started to fear him and wondered if one day I might be exposed to it myself. Mother grabbed my hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Do not worry, the gesture seemed to say, he will come.
Did I want him to come? Yes, yes, I wanted him to come and take the blame before I had to. But then again, when he came, I would have to get engaged. Did I want that already?
I did not know. Not for sure.
Draco in the end had come home to his own engagement ceremony, but he had looked exhausted and wishing to go to bed rather than get engaged. And his excuse had been that he apparently was currently swamped at work. I had believed him to some degree; I had known first hand from a friend and former schoolmate who worked with Draco in the Ministry that the situation had indeed been quite hectic and chaotic. But if my friend had managed to go home punctually to celebrate with her family, why had my own future fiancé not managed it?
I must have fallen asleep. What I had dreamed about I could not say, but it caused me to be suddenly startled. Sitting up, I looked at the clock. Its hands indicated that it was half past three in the morning.
My hands fumbled with the blanket, and I realised that the cup of chocolate had been removed. I checked if it had fallen onto the carpet, but there were no shards or chocolate stains; mentally, I thanked the house-elf for taking the cup away. Draco would never forgive me for ruining the expensive Persian carpet.
That thought reminded me why I was still sitting in the living room. Where was my husband? Had he still not come home?
I slowly got up, carefully outbalancing my body weight. I managed quite quickly which surprised me, especially after I had had difficulties with walking in the last weeks. But I told myself that it was only temporarily anyway, and that I would be able to normally stand and walk again soon. This kind of mantra helped only so often, and I occasionally cursed Draco for having done this to me.
Then again, it had been my own wish.
Quietly traipsing through the living room, I made my way to the entrance hall. The light had been turned off, and utter darkness filled the house. Even the whiteness outside did not help illuminating anything inside. The only light came from the chimney in the living room, where a small fire was still going.
However, I knew the house and its rooms really well. I therefore managed to not walk into anything. Quickly checking on the cloaks hanging in the hall dresser, I learned that Draco still had not come home. Did he intend to stay the entire night?
Briefly wondering if it would make much sense to go upstairs and to bed, my feet returned to the softness of the Persian carpet. I did not wear any socks. It came as no surprise then that when my skin touched the carpet I realised how cold exactly the floor in the hall had been. I therefore hurried to cover my feet with the velvet blanket again to get them warm once more.
While I nestled back comfortably on the lounge, my gaze fell onto the picture frames that stood on the mantelpiece. One showed me and my sister, Daphne, smiling at the photographer. I remembered the day the photo was taken as clearly as if it had been yesterday…
‘Ow…’ It hurt. I knew it had to because the ice was hard. If it were not, ice skating would not be possible; no one was yet able to walk on water. But still, why did it have to hurt so much? And must Daphne snicker at me like that?
Suddenly, hands grabbed me from behind, encircling my waist. With force but still softly, I was hoisted into an upright, standing position. However, even though I was now on both my feet instead of on my behind, I still had not found my balance. My legs kept sliding on the ice. Slowly, I found my balance, but until that moment had come, the hands and corresponding arms around my waist did not let go.
Neither of us spoke, and the people ice skating around us did not bother to look at what we were doing. But the moment I stood on my own, completely on my own, I slowly turned around. I needed to know who had helped me and wanted to thank that person.
The first, I found out rather quickly. I knew him, this young man in fine clothes. He wore a long dark cloak that reached his calves, and the cloak’s collar stood upright, covering nearly half of the young man’s head. My eyes travelled further up; he was taller than me, and I had to tip my head all the way back to be able to look into his eyes. He had grey eyes and they looked calm, not at all haughty or anything like I remembered them, just calm. It surprised me so much that I could not speak; the “thank you” that I had been about to say never came.
‘It seems that the fall affected your ability to speak as well as hurt your behind,’ he said, a grin shining in his eyes. It did not mirror anywhere else in his face though; his lips were still holding an impassive expression.
With a sudden urge, I needed to free myself from his grip. Tugging more violently than originally intended, I tore my arms out of his grasp; his hands had taken a hold of my elbows upon me turning around to look at him. My wish for freedom had a price though; I lost my balance once more when my feet started sliding around violently. I flailed my arms, and saw him reaching out, trying to get a hold of me again, but it was all pointless.
With a loud curse on my lips “ that degraded the wise wizard named Merlin to the lowest level life knew “ and an even louder thud “ the echo of which surely travelled miles, testifying to my clumsy ice-skating “ my already painfully throbbing behind landed on the cold and hard iced surface of the lake once again.
‘OW!’
I winced at the memory alone. The fall had been really painful, but Draco had not asked questions; he had bent down and picked me up, like a little child. Of course I had protested “ who was he to help me like that after having been the reason I had fallen in the first place? A single movement, however, made it crystal clear that his help was really needed. My behind hurt terribly.
Draco had carried me to the shore, seeing to it that I received the care I needed. The entire time, he had never said a word to me, but his helpful behaviour had let me realise that not only the look in his eyes had changed from when I had first met him but that he himself had changed. He had grown up, had apparently learned what it meant to have friends and family.
The war has ultimately changed something in everyone.
My gaze fell on the clock once more; four o’clock in the morning. And Draco was still to come home. With a sigh, I leaned back against the lounge’s headrest. My hands fumbled with the blanket, then started stroking my stomach. Soon it would be time for another change.
Changes “ they often happen when you least expect it…
Grabbing the book and opening it right away, I walked back to the table where I had dropped my bag and other things. But when having the attention focused on black text on white pages rather than where my steps led me, it should have been no surprise that I eventually walked into someone. Only, this someone was not happy about our collision.
‘Would you mind looking where you are walking?’ the boy, approximately two years older than me, said, his tone rough. His pale grey eyes glittered warningly, and his lips were pressed tight. It was Draco Malfoy.
‘I am sorry,’ I replied, shut the book and fled to my table. I had no intention of arguing with him, especially after what my sister had already told me about him. However, he followed me and sat down across from my place.
At my questioning gaze, he only shrugged, his glare preventing further inquiries. What surprised me was that he said something though:
‘Everywhere else is full.’
We worked in silence for some time until he suddenly asked, ‘What is your name?’
He had, once again, taken me by surprise. I looked up, and while my brain still pondered over the idea if I should answer or not, my mouth spoke, ‘Astoria Greengrass.’
A sudden stab of pain let me gasp, and I returned from the misty realm of memories to the present. My arms went to my stomach, pressing against it with the intention to stop the pain, but it did not help. My upper body bent over in the hope of thus reducing the pain, but it was as pointless as pressing my hands against my stomach. It felt as if someone was thriving a hot spear though my every core.
As suddenly as the pain had come, it was gone again. I leaned back, breathing raggedly. Tears rolled down my cheeks. My once hand still lay on my stomach whereas my other hand clutched at the lounge’s armrest as if my life depended on it. I could see my knuckles gleam ghostly white in the fire’s light.
‘Deela!’ I called for the house-elf. My voice was as shaky as my knees, and I shivered. ‘Deela! I need help!’
A pop next to me announced the elf’s arrival, and with quick, practised movements she set to work.
It took her only a short moment, then she said, her voice in awe, ‘Mistress is having her baby.’
The last I felt before another wave of pain engulfed me, drowning me in utter darkness, was the uterine fluid running down my legs.
‘Love really has nothing to do with wisdom or experience or logic. It is the prevailing breeze in the land of youth.’
She startled me. ‘Pardon?’ I asked, confused.
Smiling, she turned a page in the book she was reading. ‘I said that lo”’
‘I heard what you said, Mother,’ I replied. I admitted, my tone was slightly rude, but I was annoyed. Mother seemed to say irrelevant things like that at the most unsuitable moments. ‘I wondered why you said it.’
She closed the book and turned, looking at me. Her grey eyes, which had the same colour mine had, seemed to scan me from top to bottom, carefully, taking in everything of my being: my wishes, my feelings, my secrets. I felt uncomfortable.
‘Stop looking at me like that,’ I said, ordering more like. But instead of getting angry with me, her smile turned mysterious. It irritated me. ‘What are you smiling at?’
She turned away from me, her gaze falling out of the window. ‘You know, my son,’ she responded in a dreamy, whispering voice, ‘that one day you will experience it firsthand. And you will then understand what I meant.’ Her grey eyes captured mine once more, and the smile returned; but it was no longer mysterious. It was caring. ‘Trust me, you will see. One day.’
Rubbing my sleep-heavy eyes, I sighed and got back to work. I could not revel in memories when there was work to be done. Also, the clock had already announced the fifth morning hour quite some time ago. Everything in me screamed for rest and sleep, but I did not allow my body to take over my mind. I could not afford it. It meant weakness, and I “ a Malfoy “ have not been raised to be weak.
Grabbing another file, I banned all distracting thoughts from my mind and set back to work. However, it only lasted so long.
Sighing frustratedly, I threw the file away and leaned back in my chair. My hands went up and rubbed my eyes again. I guess, had I looked into a mirror at that moment, I would surely have looked like an Inferius.
A soft knock at the office’s door had me turning around. Blinking against the hallway’s light “ I hadn’t even noticed that my office was dark except for one small lamp on the desk “ I strained to recognise the person standing on the threshold. It was definitely a woman.
‘Draco,’ she said, a sigh accompanying my name, ‘you will not tell me you have been working the entire night, will you?’ It was my mother.
‘I have “’
‘Do you not know what day it is today?’ she continued, not caring that she interrupted me.
‘I do know.’
‘Then why are you not with your wife? She sits at home, all alone, at Christmas.’
‘It is just a day like every other day of the year, Mother,’ I replied, reaching for another file on the high pile.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her shaking her head, a desperate expression etched into her features. ‘Come on, now. We are going home.’
‘I cannot just leave. There is still a lot to do.’
‘This has to wait, Draco,’ Mother said. Her hand reached into her cloak’s pocket. A second later, with a flick of her wrist, she had vanished all my files and notes; my desk was as clean as when I first moved into the office.
She had gone too far. It was one thing to help me, but interrupting me like she had done, threw me back for weeks. I would have a lot more work once everything was back because before continuing to work, I had to make sure all my files and notes had reappeared.
‘Mother, you have no idea what you ha”’
‘I do have an idea, Draco,’ she interrupted me again. It seems my own mother was trying to get my blood boil with anger. ‘I know that your work is important for you, but right now your wife should be much more important than anything else.’
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Astoria can look after herself. She can handle any emergencies.’
‘And are you sure she can handle the birth of your son alone?’
Her words were like a bomb; they had blasted away every response I had been about to say. Instead, silence settled over the office, as thick and heavy as the snow outside. And yet, it was not a cold silence, but a warm one. I had a son. I was going to be a father. The father of my own son!
My limbs moved without my mind’s consent, but somehow, I did not care. As fast as humanly possible, I grabbed my own wand, lying on the desk, and Apparated home, directly into the foyer. My sudden arrival caused some confusion among the house-elves who were busy running from the kitchen to the living room and back, carrying towels and bowls with hot water. I did not care.
With two, three long strides, I stood in the living room. My gaze instantaneously fell onto my wife, lying on the lounge, her breathing ragged. She was pale, her hands clutching at the armrests so hard her knuckles shimmered silver in the chandelier’s light. Her forehead was bathed in sweat, and her eyes were shut tight. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she screamed loudly from time to time, whenever the mediwitch told her to push.
I went to Astoria’s side and took a hand, squeezing it reassuringly. Murmuring softly-spoken words into her ear, my other, free hand went to stroke her hair.
With the next push, her hand grabbed mine and squeezed it tightly, so hard I feared it might fall off. I had to grit my teeth to prevent myself from shouting like Astoria did that very moment.
I cannot say how long I had been out of it, but when I opened my eyes, the first I saw was the morning sun shining through the living room’s window. My husband stood before the high window, his contours a shadowy blur to me. I could, however, discern that Draco was holding something in his arms.
Or better, a someone.
Smiling tiredly, I slowly worked myself into a sitting position. The rustle of the blanket alarmed my husband, and he turned around. But the surprise vanished quickly, and he came over, sitting down at the edge of the lounge. I could now see who he held in his arms.
It was our son.
Looking up, I met Draco’s eyes. I smiled shyly, and he smiled back at me before dropping his gaze back to our son.
‘Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy.’
There might have been times where I wondered whether or not Draco really loved me. I still wondered about it. But at this moment, I stopped wondering if I loved him. Because I knew I truly did. The night our son had been born had shown me a side of Draco I had not yet known: the caring husband he could be, still proud and often unapproachable, but carrying a soft spot within his heart.
Sometimes, we simply must know a person thoroughly before we can truly love.