Work Text:
Lettie was smart, an obvious product of her mother’s intelligence and even some of Draco’s wit. The only thing her sperm donor had contributed was her beautiful golden, borderline light ginger colour.
Ripely eighteen, Lettie had taken it into their hands to meet with their father. With the guidance of Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, she managed to civilly owl him.
Ron had just gotten out of muggle prison for child neglect after he left Rosie in an automobile whilst he was in a gentleman’s club. Of course they had no bloody idea what he meant when he charmed the car to tend to her needs.
Lavender had left him and Rosie for a rich Frenchman, leaving Ginny as her guardian. Ginny would care for the girl throughout her livelihood. Rosie would send off to Hogwarts in just a few weeks.
The clock tauntingly ticked 3 pm. Count on the deadbeat to be an hour late. Maybe Lettie should have chosen a muggle strip club or something of the sorts then he’d actually show his freckled face.
Their coffee had grown cold by now, steam no longer floating in the air above. Great. Maybe they should have listened to Aunt Pansy and not come.
A disheveled man sat across from them, red hair a tousled mess and overgrown, patchy facial hair. “Sorry. I couldn’t find it.”
Ah . Piss poor muggle alcohol on his breath. Bloody wonderful. Lettie plastered a smile. “It’s quite alright.”
“Yeah, so what’s this here about?” He questioned, taking a pastry from the plate she had discarded almost an hour ago.
“For us to talk? What else for?”
With a mouthful, he said loudly, “I know but what about? Your mother hasn’t said a word to me in 17 years, yet you wanna talk.”
“Yeah!” Lettie exclaimed loudly, turning the cafe’s attention to them. “Maybe I want to know why my father left. Why did he go on to have another kid after he abandoned his first? In primary school, I got religiously bullied for not looking like Dad or Scorpius. Kids were fucking brutal, Ronald. ”
“Your mother ran with you. She chose that for you,” He replied, unfathomed by the next cold pastry his grubby hands pulled at.
Lettie sighed, keeping her composure. “Why had you never reached out?”
Ron shrugged. “Wasn’t my problem anymore. I never really wanted children, but your mother was so adamant on it, Scarlett.”
“It’s not Scarlett, please. I’ve had my name changed to Lettie Malfoy recently, to match dad and mum. I was never a Weasley, not in the way Molly really wanted anyway.”
“How’d Hermione take to that? Her little Scarlett only to her Lettie, whatever the fuck that ‘upposed to mean,” He hiccuped.
“Mum loved it, actually. She knows me and respects me as her child, not as her daughter.”
“You’ve actually gone mad. Daughter, child. Same difference. Still a little girl despite what the prophet says. All that gender bending bullshite and all.”
Lettie scoffed, laughing humorless like Draco. “Who cares about a deadbeats opinion? Certainly not me. Have a nice life, Ronald.”
“You’re a right bitch, just like your mother!” He yelled back, alcohol wafting in her face.
Lettie wouldn’t cry in front of this poor excuse of a man. Instead she pulled up her things, dropped 25 pounds and left. “This was a mistake.”
After today, she had felt like this was just a spit in the face to the court case her Uncle Crabbe won for them. She’d buy him a bit more for Christmas, obviously nothing more extravagant than Aunt Pansy’s gift.
Tears didn’t bother to spill; tears would not be wasted. She’d pop in the shop and grab her dad a bottle of good Whiskey, not aged as long as he’d like but something he’d crack open with Grandpa Granger.
They had come across an American import, something that supposed it looked to be a hit with a prat like her dad and an old man like Grandpa Granger.
Lettie used the floo in the Joke Shop, stopping in to see Scorpius. It was stupid.
But, she had brought him into an embrace and squeeze until she heard him begin to cough. “I love you, Scorp. You’re the sibling I never wanted.”
He cheekily smiled (looking annoyingly like his dad) and said, “I love you too, Let. Just let the guys from Hogwarts hear, yeah?”
She giggled, placing a wet kiss on his cheek. “I don’t wouldn’t want my lot to see, if anything.”
“Disgusting, Lettie,” He gagged, wiping the mess off his face.
Lettie called out for their home, items in the tote that they dolted around.
With a simple flash of flame, they popped through. Their siblings were away with Grandmother Narcissa and Grandfather Lucius for the weekend. Draco would be tucked away in his study, working on whichever cases needed his attention most. Hermione would be at work until five.
Lettie laid a knock on the large cherry wood door. “Dad, are you busy!?” They called into his study.
He chuckled at them, “No, come in Lettie.”
She skipped in. “Wait, close your eyes!”
Draco sighed, withholding a laugh, and raised his hands over his eyes. “Okay, Little Lettie.”
She spaced out the various items in his desk, pleased by the array of things that contrasted the dark wood stain. “Okay, open them.”
He withdrew his hands from his eyes. “Ah, my favorite things. What do you want now? My first born?”
“Of course not. I’m not Uncle Blaise,” She replied, rolling her eyes. “I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me, even if I’m not fully yours like Scorpius is or how Anne and Jean are you and Mum’s.”
Draco placed his glasses on his desk, smiling with the faint lines of his wrinkles. “You’ll always be fully mine, kid. As soon as I saw you, I just knew that you and your mother would end up here, Lettie. I don’t care if you were a bloody Hufflepuff's kid, I’d still find a way to make you into a bloody Slytherin.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she couldn’t bite back the sob before it left. “Thank you, Dad. I just really can’t believe it all. I saw him today, and I just- I couldn’t see a happy life with him. He smelled awfully, Dad, like he’d just walked through a brewery.”
Draco held them as they cried, tears forming in his own eyes. “I couldn’t see myself without you or your mum, Lettie. I believe that blood supremacy is completely bullshite. You’re wonderful, and I’m happy I get to call you my Little Lettie.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you too, Lettie.”
They embraced each other for a moment, holding still as their emotions rounded out.
“My, what do we have here?” Hermione questioned, a playful smile on her lips.
“Nothing, just Lettie telling me I’m her favorite parent is all, Love. Right, Lettie?” Draco nudged them a bit.
Hermione laughed, kissing Draco’s cheek. “You wish, Draco. But, it is very nice to see you two playing nice. Now, would anyone like to explain the random bottle of Whiskey on your desk? Is my father trying to help you rig the football match in his favor again?”
Lettie laughed softly, “No, I met with Ron today. And I just realized how much I appreciate my dad.”
“Ah, Ron is a bit much. Was he at least on time?” Hermione commented, unstrapping her heels.
“Nope, an hour late. Called me a bitch when I called him Ronald, so I left.” She shrugged, leaning against one of the many stacks of books.
“Pardon, he did what?” Draco asked loudly, anger seething in his tone.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s always been quite stupid. He’s a childish, pea-brained idiot! I’ll tell Molly, and we’ll have some fun talking to Rita.”
“Yes, a gossip column is what I need,” Lettie scoffed. “Maybe they’ll accuse Mum of an affair again. Lettie the Love Child.”
A nasty childhood nickname Rita got a whiff of. She had practically followed the family around, stalking them really. It had gotten to a point that they’d transfigure themselves into different looking people so the cameras couldn’t catch a glimpse of them.
Hermione scoffed, “I always hated that! You were not a love child of mine and Draco’s. Draco isn’t someone to get around, really.”
“Yeah, just look at the fun lot he married.”
“Look at the fun lot he inherited,” Draco remarked, leaning on his desk and his arms folded. “Two bossy swots that he loves very much but cannot handle for long periods of time.”
“I suppose he got the luck of the draw, didn’t he, Mum?” Lettie thoughtfully sighed.
Hermione smiled at Lettie, “Yeah, he did.”
