Chapter Text
For Violet and her family, life had become one big celebration. When she thought about it, spending their formative years in a constant state of terror, and eventually helping defeat the darkest wizard of all time, the only thing they could logically do was celebrate. Everything.
They gathered for anything and everything. When Pansy and Daphne finally enjoyed their epic marriage celebration, they’d stayed up until the wee hours of the evening, drinking elf-made wine and toasting to their futures.
When Blaise finally convinced Michael to settle down and get married, the celebration was one for the ages— the venue alight with adoration, joy, and laughter.
When Astoria finally found the key to solving her family’s blood disease, they held the largest celebration they’d ever had.
Life had moved on, pressing love and happiness into every corner of their lives.
And for as long as Violet could remember, they’d hosted a magical Christmas celebration at their manor, lights glimmering, trimmed trees in every possible room. The smell of pine and cinnamon-apples filled the space, golden warmth pooling on every surface.
Ginny and Harry’s kids ran wild throughout the house, the two boys causing a raucous wherever they went. They’d become the best, older cousins Violet could have hoped for.
When she’d first approached Draco, positive pregnancy test in trembling hands, she’d let her tears fall freely as he pulled her into his chest, fear, excitement, and joy all warring in her heart.
That same day, he’d apparated to his mother’s home, face pale and hands shaking. She’d made him tea and sat him down, handing him a biscuit.
“What if I turn out like him?” Draco had rasped. “Like father?”
Narcissa had only smiled, pouring her own cup of tea. “My darling dragon,” she’d mused. “You’re afraid to fail. That alone will ensure you won’t,” she said. “Your father he— he was a complicated man. But he always loved you.”
Grabbing his hand, his posture rigid with nerves, she continued. “As your mother, I always loved you, and I’ll never stop. As long as your love comes first, nothing else will matter.”
His cheeks flushed with anxiety as he stared at his mother, taking a shaking sip of tea. “What if they get hurt? Or someone like.. like Him comes back?”
Narcissa chuckled. “Evil will always be around the corner. But you’ll teach your children to be fierce, to be strong, to be smart. And you’ll protect them from what you can, but you cannot protect them from life. You can only prepare them for it,”
They’d finished their tea, and Narcissa had sent him home with a basket of fresh, rare seedlings from her garden for Violet.
And Draco’s mother had been right— Violet knew he would be a good father, and he was. He doted on baby Scorpius, always there to teach, to protect, and to train.
Now, she watched as Scorpius sat on Uncle Sev’s lap as the man showed him wandless magic— creating tiny, magical sparks in the air.
“Again, again!” The blonde-haired boy cheered.
Uncle Sev shook his head, glancing to Violet. His face had grown lined with age, hair slowly beginning to grey. “The boy is impatient. Just like his father.” He said, but acquiesced, creating small, dancing reindeer before them. Draco smirked, coming to stand beside Violet, Delphine waddling beside him, practically attached to his ankle. In his arms, Lilium(after her mother), only 4-months old, cooed happily. Violet smiled in awe at her husband, the father of her children, who managed everything with ease, just like he always had.
Even now, between clinging children, he managed a kiss to her lips as their family slowly poured in through the floo, candles flickering wildly as the last of their Christmas meal floated onto the grand dining table.
Her children found their own seats, chattering wildly with their cousins as Violet looked on fondly. There were still days where she wished her mother could see what she’d become— a mother of her own. How even now, her heart had managed to grow to love all of them so dearly.
Ginny sunk into her chair, their third—and final, she’d sworn— child growing larger in her belly every day. Harry chased after James and Albus, trying desperately to wrangle them for dinner.
Astoria and Theo smiled fondly, reaching for baby Lily, snatching her from Draco’s arms. Ron and Hermione stepped in, reunited now, with arms full of gifts for the little ones. Luna and Neville were right behind, the blonde-haired witch having managed to scoop both of Harry’s boys into her arms.
“If you lot aren’t careful, you’ll run into another wrackspurt nest!” She scolded.
Pansy and Daphne strutted in soon after, dressed in couture, glowing and in love. Their posters of House of Flowers had filled the Wizarding world, and Pansy had begun a children’s line just for Delphine and Lily. The former ran into Daphne’s arms, sticky hands clinging to her shoulders. “Aunt Daph!” She squealed as the two found their seats at the table.
Narcissa had waltzed in last, arm-in-arm with Blaise and Michael, who escorted her to her seat beside Uncle Sev. She smoothed Scorp’s hair as she sat, helping him spoon mashed potatoes onto his plate.
Violet looked around the room, hand clasped in Draco’s as they sat, thinking of who she used to be, of how far they’d come.
Laughter filled the room, the quiet magic of Christmas lining every part of their conversation, the symphony of music and chatter like a balm for Violet’s life.
She had built this life with Draco.
All of them, every moment.
After everything, they’d made it.
That evening, as the children laid in bed, tiny snores filling the halls of the manor, Draco climbed into bed next to his wife. He held her tightly as she drifted to sleep. As his mind walked the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, he thought of everything they had built together, he and Violet.
The legacy of the Malfoys that would live on, not as blood purists and Death Eaters, but as kind, loving witches and wizards that made the world a better place.
༶˖⁺⋆
Eventually, when Uncle Sev had passed, they held a Celebration of Life that would have been fitting for his name. They laughed, they cried, and they recalled their favorite memories with the man who had raised Violet.
Before he had passed, he had written one final letter to Violet.
“Dear Violet,” it had read.
“I made a promise to your mother long ago that I would take you in and I would protect you. While I did my best, there are things that I can never apologize enough for.
I hope you know that I loved your mother with every fibre of my being.
I loved you the same.
Thank you for letting me into your life, little one.
I hope that you continue to live the grandest life of all.
It is time I joined your mother once more.
All my love,
Uncle Sev”
Violet’s hand shook as she re-read the letter, tears falling onto the parchment as Draco wrapped her into his arms.
Life had a way of reminding her just how fragile it all was— just how lucky she had been to find him, Draco. To be saved by love time and time again.
༶˖⁺⋆
Violet’s hair was silver now, hands soft with age, eyes still full of light. The Christmas tree glowed warm by the fireplace as she sat beside Draco, books in both of their hands.
Her memories had begun to fade in the way old photographs tended to blur softly at the edges. She’d forget small things, minor details. But never him. Never Draco.
His hands, once steady on a broom, trembled only slightly as he touched her; brushing a grey tendril of hair away from her face, eyes lit with a love so deep and grand, it was unbreakable.
“I love you, Vi,” he said, voice tinted with age and time.
She smiled, hand coming to meet his as it rested gently on her cheek. “I love you, Draco,” she said.
“Always.” He replied, then, fingers lacing together.
Two halves. One whole.
༶˖⁺⋆
As the world softened around her, only one truth remained:
She had loved him for as long as she could remember.
And even as time pressed fissures into her mind,
Draco pressed his love into every crack, making her whole again…
Until their final breath.
Always.