Chapter Text
Her head was throbbing as she glanced at the clock another time. 6:30. Letting out a sigh, she started rubbing her temples, effectively ignoring all the paperwork piling up on her desk. As the right hand to the Minister, Hermione should’ve been working on them instead of going over the details of their upcoming trip to Berlin but she couldn’t help herself. Worry tugged at her internals as her mind tried to go over all the ways it could go wrong.
It seemed like since their separation from Draco almost a year ago, she was always thinking about the ways it could go wrong — the place their fragile cold peace would break. She suspected this could be it. It could go very very wrong.
For one thing, Draco could’ve found out about their arrangement — about why she was taking Scorpius (their son) to Berlin. She picked on her nails, looking at the clock another time. 6:32. She huffed out her breath, knowing that she couldn’t stay there any longer. She had to go. Grabbing her purse and walking out of her office, she knew where she had to go: Malfoy Manor.
———
“She wants to go meet a potential husband,” Draco repeated the words for the third time, looking at Harry like he was a potential hazard. Harry shifted in his seat, diverting his eyes away uncomfortably as Draco repeated the words in his head over and over again. “I shouldn’t tell you this, Malfoy but — but this trip is because Hermione… well, she got a marriage offer from the Head of International Relations Department in the German Ministry and — she wants to meet him,” Potter had said about half an hour ago. Since then, Draco had repeated the words in his head over and over again.
“Look, it might not even be anything serious, Malfoy,” Potter tried to soften the blow but Draco knew her. Had lived almost a decade with her. If she was willing to cross the bloody continent to meet a potential husband with Scorpius — and hiding it from Draco — she was seriously considering it. “You — you can’t react irrationally, okay? I didn’t tell you to piss you off or make it worse. I just thought you needed to know. She’s still your wife, after all.”
“My wife,” he scorned, rolling his eyes as he stood up. “She won’t be for long, I suspect. Now that she’s found a lover, it won’t be long until the official divorce ceremony takes place, don’t you think?”
“He’s not her lover,” Harry wrinkled his nose, earning an eye-roll from Draco. Thirty-three years old and the big child couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his best friend might enjoy occasional intercourses with men who were her lovers. In this case, Draco wasn’t very willing to take that idea into account, either.
“He’s someone she’s taking Scorpius to meet,” Draco deadpanned. “Possibly to know his new father, Potter.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Dra —”
“Thank you,” Draco interrupted Potter with a cold gaze thrown his way before standing up, straightening himself to his full height to scare away the Boy-Who-Was-Too-Short. “For telling me. I think I will handle it from now on.”
“Don’t — don’t do anything you’ll regret, Malfoy,” Harry pleaded sceptically before standing up and summoning his robes to get ready. A cold smirk sat on Draco’s face, bordering on a bitter grimace.
“Oh, I certainly won’t.”
———
The last few stairs to the Malfoy Manor made her head spin. She should’ve eaten something before coming to fetch Scorpius but the longing to see her son made her skip everything, rushing to the Manor to get the small boy. Knocking, she waited patiently for Topsy to open the door. Even though they — Draco and Hermione — let all the Malfoy house-elves go (after rebuilding the Manor), Topsy chose to stay and assist them in their daily life. Now, she was the one taking care of Scorpius when Draco was caught up in the Ministry or generally, not home. “Mistress,” said the small elf with a nod. “How can Topsy help you?”
“Hello, Topsy,” she tried to smile, failing drastically as her face fell, failing to see Scorpius lingering anywhere in the background. “Um, didn’t Draco tell you that I would be picking up Scorpius?” The elf paled, colour draining from her small face, making Hermione frown. “Is anything wrong?”
“Master Malfoy took Young Master to Master Nott’s Estate for dinner,” Topsy explained. “Said that the Mistress had cancelled the arrangements. Topsy didn’t know Mistress would be coming!” Her voice was high-pitched and worried, making Hermione cringe as she started realizing what she had heard. Malfoy had taken Scorpius away without telling her anything? Without even bothering to consider that they had an International Portkey leaving in an hour?
“But I hadn’t cancelled,” she muttered, looking at the elf who looked like she was on the verge of a meltdown before smiling — trying to make it reassuring — and adding, “But I’m sure Master had a reason. Topsy, would you be so kind as to give me some Floo Powder so I can pay Theo a visit? I’m sure it’ll be a lovely evening, all three of us.” Her face said something but the venomous tone of her voice left the elf dumbfounded for a second before opening the door, letting Hermione in and disappearing. She wasted no time walking to the fireplace, standing in it and accepting the floo. “Thank you,” was all she said before saying, “Nott Manor!” and disappearing in green flames. At the last seconds, she could see Topsy’s worried face staring at her.
Ever since last year — and their separation — Topsy had been constantly worried, trying to set up situations to get them back together. At the time — when Hermione thought there was any hope of reconciliation — it was endearing, almost comical. Nowadays though, the elf was a nervous wreck anytime she visited, too worried about another outburst of emotions on both of their parts that sent their situation spiraling further. Everyone knew the actual shadow of the divorce — the official un-bonding spells — was near and it had made everything so delicate. Even the peace between Draco and Hermione which Malfoy had very obviously shattered.
When she appeared in Theo’s fireplace, she took a second to gather herself, straightening her robes and collecting her thoughts, before stepping out of it. A pleasant chatter was heard from Nott’s living room (one of many), indicating that their very unpleasant social gathering was indeed held there. She straightened her back, holding her jaw high, as she walked toward the place, her heart drumming in her ears.
“Mummy!” her four-year-old son was the first one to recognize her, jumping off the ground where his toys were splattered and running toward her. She knelt down, picking her up with delight as he wrapped his arms around her neck, closing his eyes as he pressed his small frame against Hermione. A smile formed on her face despite the situation, ignoring the men in the background. “Uncle Theo was just showing me how to make a paper bird!”
“It’s called a folded crane, darling,” Hermione said, giving Scorpius a kiss on the cheek before turning to face Draco, Theo and Adrian — Theo’s husband — with a serious face. “Didn’t expect to see you here, Malfoy,” she said dryly, making Scorpius squirm in her embrace.
“Why are you calling Daddy by his surname, Mummy?” he whispered as if she expected her to share a secret, making Hermione wince. For a second, she had forgotten that Scorpius wasn’t used to her outbursts and surname-calling ceremony Draco and Hermione used to share.
“It’s just a game they are playing,” Adrian offered, standing up with a smile, walking toward Hermione as he nodded at Theo. “Scorp, do you want me and Uncle Theo to show you the pack of swans in our backyard? You’ve been dying to see them, yes?”
“Yes!” Scorpius exclaimed before looking at Hermione with a long face. “Can I, Mummy?” Hermione’s eyes glanced from Adrian to Scorpius as a grateful smile opened her face.
“Of course, Scorp,” she said, taking Adrian up on his offer, helping Scorpius climb into his embrace as she mouthed a thank you. He only nodded with a faint smile in return, glaring at Theo to stand up and follow them. Draco still hadn't uttered a word, only offering a shaken smile to Scorpius before Adrian and the child left the room. Theo stood up with a long sigh, his eyes darting between Hermione and Draco.
“Hello, Granger,” he said with a tired smile. “Haven’t seen much of you around lately.” Hermione didn’t miss the way Draco’s face hardened at the mention of her surname but she showed no reaction, only half-shrugging.
“I’ve been busy, Theo,” she offered, failing at delivering a smile, her eyes fixed on Draco’s silver ones as they stared at each other with no mercy.
“Just — just don’t kill each other, okay?” Theo mumbled warily. “And don’t break any of the vases here, alright? They are old heirlooms.” Draco’s glare made Theo’s small smirk disappear, shifting uncomfortably in his place as he followed the path his husband had taken, leaving Hermione and Draco alone in the living room. A deep huff was all that Draco offered, shifting in his seat. It made Hermione’s veins boil with anger.
“What the hell are you thinking, Malfoy?” she hissed.
“Nothing, Granger,” he spat the words and though his face was schooled into a neutral expression, she could hear the anger in his voice. “I was just planning to spend an evening with my son and his godfather but look at that, you ruined that, too.”
“Ruined that?” Hermione hissed, taking a step closer to Draco, standing next to his chair with her fists balled. “Ruined that, have I? Scorpius was supposed to be in the Manor. I was supposed to pick him up! We have an International Portkey to catch in forty-five minutes!” Her curls were beginning to spill out of her hairpin as if they knew she was angry, her face flushed by the way her heart was pounding with fury. Draco, though, stared at her coolly.
“Scorpius is not coming to Germany. But you can go, of course. Merlin knows you need a vacation,” Draco said as if they were talking about what kind of tea Hermione preferred, not the fact that he had, technically, stolen their child from her!
“He is coming to Germany. We agreed last week,” she forced the words out, feeling tears spring at her eyes. Damn them — she always cried when she was angry. Pushing them back, she cleared her voice, trying to cool herself down. “Look, Draco,” — she tried using his first name to calm the tension — “I’ve been planning this trip for ages. Scorpius was so excited to see Berlin. You can’t just — you can’t just cancel it because you want to annoy me.”
“Annoy you?” Draco’s voice, though calm, cut at the edges. His eyes had darkened even in the bright room as he took his time standing up, making his full height known. He was a head and shoulder taller than Hermione, making her look up at him. She subconsciously took a step backwards so her neck wouldn’t hurt looking at Draco. “Do you think I did this out of spite, Granger ?”
“It certainly seems so.”
“Well, you are wrong,” this time, his tone wasn’t as contained, a hint of rage peeking through his calm façade. “Scorpius isn’t going to Germany and that’s the end of it. I don’t have to explain this to you.”
“Yes, you do,” Hermione demanded, gazing into his eyes. Her heart fluttered at the sight. His silver eyes — usually bright and open since he became a father — were guarded and dark like the clouds on a stormy day, his face schooled under a layer of Occlumency. Not many people could tell when he did that but she could. Because she knew him. Inside and out. And there was something wrong. In their one year of separation, Hermione had never seen him so angry. “What are you hiding from me? What has gotten you all fueled up?”
“What am I hiding?” Draco spat, his voice dangerously cutting, making a shudder run down Hermione’s spine as she took another step backwards. “So fucking rich of you to say it considering that you hid the fact that you are taking my son to Germany to see his new father!” Even though he wasn’t shouting, the tone of his voice came disgustingly close.
Hermione gulped. How could he have known? It wasn’t anything, really. Just an invitation from Albert — the Head of the German Ministry’s International Relation’s Department — for them to visit and maybe get to know each other. Just a chance for her to move on. How could he have known? “How do you know?” she finally managed to ask, her voice dumbfounded and surprised. A hollow laugh left Draco’s throat as he stared down at her with malice in his eyes.
“A little birdie told me,” he mocked her, sitting back in the chair, carefully putting one knee on top of another as if he weren’t bothered. “But the important thing is that I knew. And it’s not going to happen. Scorpius is not coming.”
“Draco —”
“He has a father,” he interrupted her, his eyes as cold as ice looking over her. It made her heart break to a point. He looked like he didn’t know her. Like he didn’t know what she was doing there or who she even was. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve that. She wasn’t trying to hurt Draco but taking Albert up on his offer. She was alone and carrying more responsibilities than she could handle as a single mother. She wanted a life. Something. Albert could be that something.
“I know,” Hermione mumbled, clearing her voice shortly after. “I’m not trying to do anything. It’s just a visit, Draco. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then go visit Berlin alone. Please, do feel free to owl a postcard to Scorpius while wandering the city with your new husband. I’m sure he’d find it lovely,” Draco deadpanned, looking at her like she was merely a statue at his line of sight and he was very much interested in her moving out of the way.
“It’s — it’s not fair. Scorp was so excited about this! I had planned everything. Booked everything!” she argued, finding herself desperate and on the verge of crying once again as she rubbed her nose against her palms. “It’s not fair!”
“What’s not fair, Granger,” Draco started, taking a long step toward her so they were standing mere inches away with Hermione’s head tilted up, looking at Draco who was gazing downward with burning eyes, “is me not knowing that you were taking my son to meet your soon-to-be husband when we aren’t even fully divorced yet. But you need not worry about the money the portkey or the cost of the bookings. I will transfer the costs to your account and if you miss the portkey today for travelling, I will pay for another one so you can safely travel to Germany. Scorpius, though, is going nowhere outside of Britain for the time being.”
“Draco —”
“No more Malfoy, then?” he scoffed, taking a step back, putting some distance between them. Hermione noticed the twitching in his hands, making him clench and unclench a fist as if to control something. Hermione ignored the gesture, taking a step toward him.
“I swear I would’ve told you if it changed anything in Scorpius’ life but it’s not at that stage yet,” Hermione sighed, arguing desperately. It was her right to take her son away. Scorpius was Hermione’s son as much as Draco’s even though his resemblance to the Malfoy line was uncanny. “It’s just a friendly visit.”
“The go visit your friend, for fuck’s sake!” Draco snapped at her, suddenly looking very tired. Hermione was taken back by the change in attitude. “Granger… Scorpius will not leave the country. I won’t back down or change my mind about it.” She didn’t know what it was that made her decide he was serious. Whether it was the exhaustion in his tone or the deep lines of worry around his eyes. Maybe it was just the way he looked at her like she had somehow changed into someone else that Draco didn’t know.
“It’s — not fair.” She didn’t exactly know what wasn’t fair. The fact that he wasn’t letting her spend time with her son wherever she wanted or the fact that he had accused her of starting something before their divorce was finalized or just the mere fact of their situation, the way he looked at her, the way he acted.
“No, it’s not,” the words leaving his mouth were barely above a whisper, making her doubt whether she’s heard them correctly or not. “Hermione,” he said, clearing his voice eventually, looking at her with determination in his eyes. “You can take Scorpius as we had planned tonight so long as he remains in your flat or The Burrow or somewhere I know. I’ve put a Tracker Spell on him so don’t you dare think you can smuggle him out of England with an International Portkey or any form of side-along apparition.”
Hermione huffed out her breath, irritated as, without any other word, she stomped out of the living room to Theo’s backyard, leaving Draco alone. Theo and Adrian were conjuring pieces of bread, helping Scorpius feed the pack of swans in Nott Manor’s lake as the small boy giggled excitedly. Hermione tried to put on a smile as she walked toward them.
“Scorpius,” she called out. “It’s time to go home.”
“Mummy!” He greeted her with enthusiasm that could only be seen in four-year-olds and bolted toward her, abandoning Theo’s lap. Soon, he had his arms wrapped around her right leg, making Hermione let out a half-hearted chuckle, ruffling his blond locks. Though his hair was the same colour as Draco’s, he had gotten her timid curls.
“Scorp, why don’t you kiss Uncle Adrian goodbye and wave at the swans one last time as your Mummy and I catch up a little bit?” Theo told Scorpius, approaching Hermione warily. She tried putting up the smile but her face fell as Scorpius nodded eagerly, walking toward Adrian and the swans. “How are you, Granger?” Even after their marriage — and her taking Draco’s last name — Theo hadn’t stopped calling her Granger but now, it meant something else. And it hurt.
She sighed, shrugging. “You would know. He’s your best friend, he tells you everything,” Hermione snapped, harsher than she had intended to but Theo didn’t seem bothered with it as he rested his hand on her shoulder affectionately as if giving her the chance to hug him.
“You should’ve told him, Hermione,” he said softly, his brown eyes nothing but a big warm cup of hot chocolate she very much liked to drink. She allowed herself to be wooed by her husband’s — soon-to-be ex-husband’s — best friend as she hugged him, burying her head in his warm chest. Something about the gesture made hot tears spring up to her eyes.
“I know,” she mumbled against his chest, her voice sounding watery. “But — I suppose I was afraid of the way he would’ve reacted and Theo, I swear to Merlin, it was nothing serious. It — I wouldn’t do that. Anything. Not before we had separated. Fully. He — he didn’t have to be so harsh about it.”
“He’s hurt,” Theo said, allowing her to press her cheek against his chest as his hands petted her back comfortably. “You know how he is. He lashes out like a wounded animal when he’s hurt. He shoots to kill when he’s hurt.”
“Why is he hurt?” Hermione asked as they pulled away. “We’ve been away for a year. It was our decision. It was — mutual.”
“Granger, you left. He chose to let you leave. It’s different from a mutual decision.”
“He still did let me leave!” Hermione threw her hands in the air exasperatedly. “I’m just — Theo, I’m tired of waiting for us. I don’t know if I was — or had any right to be — but I’m tired now. And I’m… I’m so alone. I’m so tired of being alone. I figured Albert would make me less — alone. Or something.”
Theo didn’t say anything. Just looked at her like he was looking at a hurt little deer and hugged her once more. Nine years ago, when they reconnected, it had come as somewhat of a shock to see a Slytherin be so touchy-feely like Theo but now, it was a comfort. “You’re not alone, Granger.” She wanted to oppose him — to call him out on his lie and to argue that she had indeed become alone since she left Draco (in a sense). But she didn’t. She bit her tongue and allowed Theo to offer her some comfort. It was long, though, before Scorpius interrupted them with a shriek.
“I said goodbye to every one of the swans!” he exclaimed, looking at Hermione’s tear-stained face before freezing. “Mummy, why are you sad?”
“I’m not, darling,” Hermione said, trying to laugh through her tears as she bent down to lift Scorpius. He was getting so heavy now that he was four but it didn’t stop Hermione from lifting him every time they were together. “Uncle Theo just told me a very emotional story, is all.”
“Don’t make my Mummy cry, Uncle Theo,” Scorpius told Theo with a glare, making him laugh at the small boy as he nodded earnestly, kissing both Scorpius and Hermione on the cheek.
“Never again, tough guy,” Theo assured as Adrian walked toward them as well, resting his palm against Theo’s shoulder. Theo smiled, lacing his fingers with his husband’s, beaming at the handsome, tall Slytherin.
“Thank you — both of you — for taking care of Theo,” Hermione said in a delighted — fake, of course — tone, fixing Scorpius’ body between her arms.
“Always a pleasure, Hermione,” Adrian offered as Theo nodded with a smile. Hermione returned the nod as well, looking at Scorpius.
“Theo, can I use the floo in the other wing of the house?” Hermione asked, pleading with Theo to understand where she was coming from. Understandably, Theo’s dark eyes reflected a sense of kindness, nodding. “That’s — thank you. Scorpius, say goodbye to your uncles so we can go home, yes?”
“Yes! Goodbye, Uncle Theo! Uncle Adrian! Swans!”
———
“She has some nerve,” Draco fumed, earning an unimpressed look from Theo. Adrian — the brilliant gentleman that he was — retired to their room earlier to leave the two best friends alone to ramble and since then, Draco had done nothing but drink and growl at Hermione. “Telling me it’s not fair! You know what’s not fair? The fact that my wife is considering marrying some German prick behind my fucking back!”
“She doesn’t want to marry him,” Theo argued, sipping from his Ogden, looking utterly unamused. “Not yet, at least. You are overreacting and honest, acting like an A-grade prat.”
“I am being a prat?” Draco scoffed, making Theo wince as he splashed his drink while firing the words. A few coughs later, Draco continued with a sore throat. “I did everything she asked of me! She wanted time, so I gave it to her! She wanted us to take a break after… the incident, and we did it! I didn’t say one thing. The break lasted one fucking year and I thought things were getting better. That we were on the edge of getting back together but no! I find out that she has actually been negotiating a marriage contract behind my back and finalizing the terms of our divorce! No less with a German wanker!”
“Now, you are just being a drama queen,” Theo mumbled, burying his nose in his drink as Draco huffed and threw himself on one of the ancient canapes, making Theo wince as the old couch irked. “Don’t take it out on the bloody furniture, Malfoy!”
“Some best friend I have,” Draco mumbled, throwing an unimpressed glance at Theo as he finished his own bottle, emptying some of Theo’s liquid instead.
“What do you want me to do?” Theo asked, not a hint of hurt or anger in his tone. Somehow, it made Draco even more infuriated. “Curse her and claim that she’s an unfeeling bitch?”
“Yes, that would be a start,” Draco muttered, looking at the Persian rug under them like a child being scorned by his father.
“You don’t want that,” Theo said with a small laugh, looking at him like he was the most amusing thing he’d ever encountered. “In fact, if I ever do call her a bitch — as I recall I did many years ago after she slapped you for the second time — I’m fairly certain that you’ll kick my bloody arse.”
He remembered the day Theo was referring to. In 2001, after a long list of people he needed to make amends for — as his Mind Healer had suggested — he had reached the name Hermione Granger. One evening, he showed up in front of her office after the day was over, apologizing for all the shit he had put her through and with no words, she just slapped him and left. While retelling the story, Theo had fumed on his behalf, claiming that she was acting like a quote, unquote unfeeling bitch, but he had cut Theo’s head off, saying that he deserved what he had gotten. The next day, Granger showed up at his office, apologizing with a smile, saying that they were now even in apologies and then asked him out on a dinner. It hadn’t been intended to be a date but after a while, they made a routine of it and somehow, in the middle of the road, they had turned into dates… He sighed. He couldn’t think about that.
“I don’t know what I want — or will do,” Draco mumbled, heaving a sigh, closing his eyes angrily. “She’s — she drives me crazy , Theo. She — she gets to me every time and she just — fuck !” He felt his heart beating faster as anger resurfaced. She made him lose all common sense, all rationality, all self-control.
“You love her,” Theo shrugged as if he was stating the most obvious fact in the whole universe.
“I do not love her — where the hell did that come from?” Draco growled, standing up before Theo could say anything. “Thank you for nothing, mate. But unlike me, you actually have a partner who is keeping your bed warm so I’ll leave you to it.” Before Theo could say anything or stop Draco, he walked toward the fireplace and vanished in a puff of green flames as he said, “Malfoy Manor.”
The nights when Scorpius was with his mother, Draco felt the loneliest he’d ever been. After the war, the Ministry confiscated the Manor to rid the place of any traces the Dark Lord might’ve left behind, resulting in tearing down the Guest’s Wing of the Manor and getting rid of almost all of the furniture. When they returned the place to him in 2002, he had no idea what he’d do with it. After Hermione and Draco decided to get married and start a family of their own, they started rebuilding the Manor, changing it until it looked nothing like the place that had once been tainted beyond repair. They had been living there for the past seven — six, he supposed. Granger hadn’t lived there in a year, after all — years. Still, at nights when he was alone, he still felt cold in his bones at the sight of the mansion. As if on cue, Topsy appeared in front of him, making him jump five feet into the air with a light gasp.
“Salazar’s dick, you startled me Topsy!” Draco gasped, looking at the small elf who looked like she was on the verge of a mental breakdown. With a frown, he knelt down so they were at the same eye level and added. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Topsy was worried, Master,” she said, her voice shaking. “Mistress came home with tears in her eyes and left and then Master didn’t come home until now. Topsy was really worried.” He let out a sigh. The elf had taken care of him when he was a child and had refused to leave after they freed all the elves bound to the estate, giving them a pension to start their lives.
“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled as if he was being scorned by his mother as he stood up. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come home. Here.”
“Mistress was upset.”
“I suppose she was, wasn’t she?” Draco said bitterly, walking away from the elf toward the staircase, hesitating only slightly to glance back at the small creature. “Her marriage negotiations did get delayed after all.”
“Mistress wants to marry someone else?” she asked — more like screeched — but Draco ignored her, climbing the stairs warily.
“I’m going to take a shower and then go to sleep, Topsy,” he simply said, not waiting to hear another word from the elf. He supposed he didn’t have it in himself to hear any other words that day.
———
“How dare you?” a screeching voice made Draco’s eyes snap open as he sat in his bed, startled. Looking around, he didn’t see anyone but before he could assume that it had been nothing but his mind playing tricks on his, the door to his — the guest — bedroom flew open and a very angry Harry Potter made his way inside, looking at Draco with bloody murder in his eyes. “How fucking dare you, you ferret?”
“What the fuck are you on about, Potter?” Draco sighed, trying to straighten his shirt. His tie was untangled, wrinkled and most definitely ruined, just like his shirt and trousers. He had slept in them last night and now, he realized what an awful decision that had been. He looked like he was suffering from depression. Maybe he was.
“The way you treated Hermione, of course,” Harry spat. “You told me you wouldn’t do something you’d regret!”
“And I didn’t,” Draco growled. That early in the morning was the worst time Pot-head could’ve chosen to fire up missiles at him. His head was throbbing from the slight hangover of late drinking and he lacked about three cups of dark coffee to be able to engage in this conversation. “I don’t regret anything .”
“Well, I’ll make you regret some things,” Harry growled, balling his fists but before he could do anything, Draco stood up, banging into Harry’s shoulder as he hastily made his way out of the room and into the hallway. Potter followed suit, still burning with fury. “You hurt her.”
“Well, she hurt me!” Draco suddenly exclaimed, turning to face Harry. “And I have had just enough of every arsehole in the world telling me that I had no right to treat her like that. She’s my fucking wife and she decided to take my son to meet her potential spouse without telling me. And before that, she had decided that she needed a break from us — from me — without so much as discussing it with me! So I’ve had enough of you arseholes pretending like you care about her or — or love her more than I do when all I’ve done is love her!”
The outburst was sudden and unannounced, making Harry’s eyes widen and Draco’s throat sore from all the early shouting and both of them frozen in their place. “You — you love her?”
Draco’s mouth grew dry. He hadn’t meant to let that word slip. He hadn’t meant to argue with Saint Potter and he certainly hadn’t meant to say any of the things he had just said. He sucked in a breath, rubbing his temples. “I loved her — I was fucking married to her.”
“You said you love her,” Harry said with a frown. “Not that you loved her.”
“Potter —”
“If you do love her, then why would you — why would you let her go?”
He sucked in a breath. He often tried not to think about the reason they separated. He tried to lock away that part of his brain and never unlock it. “You know why,” he finally said, sucking in another deep breath. “She was — she was hurting in our relationship. I thought — I thought letting her go would mean that we’d be back together when she was ready again. I didn’t think it’d mean that she’d want a fucking divorce.”
“Malfoy,” Harry sighed his surname, looking like he pitied him, making his blood boil.
“Don’t, Potter,” he spat the words. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.”
“Get over yourself,” Harry snapped. “I’m not looking at you like anything. If you claim that you love her, then why don’t you fight for her now ?”
“I don’t claim any of that,” Draco deadpanned, turning to ascend the stairs, followed by Harry’s heavy steps. “And even if I did — which I don’t — she’s made her decision. I can’t do anything to force her hand. I won't, I refuse to.” He took a deep breath, walking toward the door of the dining room. “All I want to do now is protect Scorpius from the fallout. From everything.”
“You daft —” Harry sighed, interrupting himself, looking at him like he was the biggest idiot in the United Kingdom. He sighed — maybe he was. He was way past the point of caring.
“Would you care to stay for breakfast?” Draco asked when Harry made no other inquiries, pulling him out of his thoughts as he heaved a sigh, shaking his head.
“No, Ginny and I are supposed to be eating breakfast at The Burrow. Gin and the kids went ahead, I came here to shout at you before going.” Of course, it was Saturday. Every Saturday, there was an involuntary breakfast at The Burrow. He hadn’t gone there for over a year. Molly did send occasional invitations for him but he didn't suppose Hermione would appreciate it now that they weren’t together.
“Oh, okay,” he finally said, straightening his back. “Do send my love to Molly and kiss Scorpius for me, will you? Try not to stuff your mouth like some sort of buffoon, Potter.” was the only thing he said before walking into the dining room.
“Prick!” Harry called from behind him before walking to the fireplace and disappearing to The Burrow. Even though he hadn’t been there in ages, he had never rewired the wards to cut the connections, some pathetic sentiment fueling it. He sighed as he looked at the dining room. He didn’t want to — he wasn’t sure he could — but it had been a necessary move to get away from Potter. Unbuttoning his shirt, he sighed, squaring his shoulders.
He needed to take a shower and wash off the past twenty-four hours.