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Destiny is complete and utter bullshit, but considering the situations that were brought upon Draco Lucius Malfoy, he's inclined to believe it's real—not that he would ever say it out loud (he's petty like that). The first time the Fates meddled with his destiny was on the 1st of September 1999. The Moirai must have been laughing at his utter foolishness and cursed him to be a buffoon since he cast their blessing away. A blessing in the form of a swotty preteen girl with buck teeth (he thought they were cute) and bushy hair that could have actually been a bird's nest at some point. But could you blame him? His 11-year-old self felt quite betrayed. With her wit and intelligence, he thought she was a pureblood. And then—she turned his world upside down.
Everywhere he went, she was there; everything he strove to do well in, she did better. It infuriated him so much that his prepubescent brain told him to retaliate. Oh, how he would soon regret it when he told her she was better off dead. He wept in secret when she was petrified. He only wanted to get under her skin like she did his; he didn't actually want her to die. The moonlight held the secrets of his second year, where he wept, held her hand, and wished that she would continue to live. Slowly but surely, it all started there.
The peace in third year was unexpected (though the punch she threw at his face was momentous), but the fourth year was where he dealt with the biggest crisis of his life. Who knew that seeing Hermione Granger in her periwinkle dress, with whom he'd been secretly in love for two years now, would destroy the foundations of his belief system? Everything his parents taught him, everything that was told to him all his life, everything he was supposed to believe in, crashed and burned when he met Hermione Granger.
He couldn't keep his eyes off her the entire night and subconsciously followed her, where he witnessed one of the most vulnerable events Hermione would be found in—crying in the corner because of the Weasel. His chest felt like it was crushed under a boulder when he saw her tears. Oh, he was furious and wanted to hex the Weasel's face so hard it would look like crumpled paper, but his mother raised him better. She raised a gentleman who gave his handkerchief to a crying woman, albeit while also annoying her because she was better off mad at him with her scrunched-up face and gloriously sparking hair than crying all alone in the dark.
Needless to say, at the end of that night, Draco Malfoy was indeed not a gentleman since gentlemen did not bed the love of their life without courting them first. But Draco had long since accepted that he was a heretic who coveted a goddess from another religion. Hermione Granger was a drug not even his own father could beat out of his system.
With his love came consequences. If his father knew about his 'dalliance' with the Gryffindor Princess, he would surely find ways to get her out of the picture. No son of his would become a Mudblood lover. Draco Malfoy was supposed to be a staunch follower of the Dark Lord, so he played the part at the start of their fifth year. Their relationship was kept a secret; his beloved was understanding. Their love was hidden behind alcoves, their caresses savored in the dark, their devotion seen only behind closed doors. Draco hoped she would stay patient with him.
During his sixth year, Hermione told him she loved him for the first time—while he was bleeding in the abandoned loo on the second floor, his chest open and his guts almost spilling out. He was sure he was about to die that day; he was hallucinating Hermione Granger yelling at him that if he died, she'd go to hell herself to drag his arse back to the living and beat him to kingdom come. Oh, and she loved him and didn't want to live without him. Draco laughed at the irony of it all.
They stayed steady even as his mental health deteriorated due to the Dark Lord's trial. Hermione held him up for the most part, and they got married in France during the winter holidays with his mother and godfather as the only witnesses. After that, they were complacent and reckless. Hermione came to him, sobbing her heart out for obliviating her parents. Naturally, he comforted her, but as usual, comfort led to a steamy night where they wore each other out. They were too caught up to remember precautions, so Hermione Granger became pregnant with his child. He was happy and worried; they were in the middle of a war. What were they supposed to do? Anything, he’d do just about anything, for her. Anything for their little family.
The second half of their sixth year was spent hiding her pregnancy. They confided in the only person Hermione trusted with her predicament, Professor McGonagall. The head of Gryffindor's response was somber but understanding. She helped Hermione feign a muggle illness on her fourth month so she could stay at the McGonagall manor and self-study.
Their little Scorpius Malfoy came into their lives too early, almost a month before their seventh year. He was the brightest spot in their with his sleepy closed-eye smiles and his obvious bias towards Hermione; it was quite obvious who his favorite parent was. Draco didn't mind; Hermione was his favorite too (she laughed when he told her about it).
Their first-ever argument as a married couple was about life and death. So far, Draco was willing to bend to Hermione's whims, but for this one, he was unyielding in turning down her plans. He knew deep in his heart that if he let her go with Potter and Weasley, he'd never see her again. At the same time, he knew her role in this war would be vital. If the light never won, they would spend their lives hiding. If the light never won, people would still suffer and die due to prejudice and violence. His argument sounded selfish compared to what the world had to suffer.
But the thing was, a little voice behind Draco's mind told him he would rather the world burn than lose Hermione Granger. The world needed her, but he would simply cease to exist without her.
What about me? What about Scorpius? What about our family?
And in the end, he still let her go. If she went against him with resentment, his heart could not take it. At least they parted in amiable ways.
In their seventh year, Draco returned to Hogwarts to continue the ruse, while Hermione was on the run, hunting for the Horcruxes. Scorpius was left with McGonagall's brother in a safehouse hidden with the Fidelius Charm. It was the most agonizing year of their lives. Draco was beside himself, constantly worrying about Hermione. The only thing that kept him from breaking out of character was his Occlumency shields.
After what felt like forever, the final battle arrived at Hogwarts castle. It was a horrific sight to behold. Dead bodies everywhere, from children to wolves, professors, teenagers, adults—all of them bled red, no one bled mud. It was significant symbolism that Draco tucked away for later. He focused on finding Hermione. He needed to help her. He needed to find her, to make sure she was okay.
When the Dark Lord taunted Potter for a final duel, Draco held his breath the entire time. But when Potter died and came back to life, he felt relief and hope that the war would finally be over. When Potter finally defeated the Dark Lord, Draco instantly went to find Hermione yet again. "Where was she?" was a mantra that went on and on in his mind.
He finally found her, in the clearing, smiling and crying, celebrating that the war was over. Not giving a damn anymore, he ran to her. They looked at each other and shared identical grins, as if they both knew the secrets of the universe—then it happened. His world ended. It felt as if he was Atlas holding up the sky; his breath escaped his lungs. He was so fucking stupid. He should have known that Bellatrix Lestrange wouldn't go down without taking others with her. On the bitch's dying hand, she aimed a Diffindo Curse at Hermione, and it landed perfectly on her throat, nearly beheading her. It killed her instantly. He would never forget that day when he saw the gold flecks in Hermione's eyes disappear and leave her eyes dull brown, as if all the life was sapped away from her.
All he could remember from there on out was how he was shaking and sobbing so loudly while holding her corpse; he was inconsolable. His body felt like it would cave in on itself, and he felt his heart withering. Everything tasted like ash; everything seemed to have no meaning. They might as well have ripped his heart out and killed him. He started screaming and weeping so hard, he could barely breathe. It took four people to pry him off Hermione's corpse.
It was unfair how the universe seemed to want them together and separated them so soon.
Draco Lucius Malfoy was never the same again.
The Malfoy name was a burden that Draco would never want for his son. All the expectations, the bigotry, the negative attention attached to the name after the war were undesired. Even Draco himself caved in under carrying that name; he started to loathe it.
After the war, Draco was stuck in the Ministry holding cells awaiting his trial, which he expected to turn sour. Fortunately, even from beyond the grave, Hermione was still looking out for him. Potter testified for him during the trial, as per Hermione's will, and surprisingly, Neville Longbottom also spoke up for him, knowing that he was one of the people who anonymously helped the resistance behind the scenes.
Draco instantly went to find his son and retrieve him from the McGonagalls. He thanked them and hurried back to the house that he bought for Hermione as a wedding present, the cottage by the beach where they stayed for their short honeymoon. Only his mother and his dead godfather knew of it.
Grief soon overtook his being, but Draco held strong for the sake of their son.
In a haze of depression and loss, he legally changed his surname and renounced himself from the Malfoy name. What was the use of being a Malfoy these days aside from being rich? Draco already had his money from his contingency investments dating back to his fourth year when he prepared for several escape plans. The Malfoy name never did him any good aside from giving him a superiority complex for years. His mother was hurt by his decision, but she also understood why he did it. She knew what Hermione meant to him and what the war and the ideals of being a Malfoy contributed to her death.
Sometimes, he sees her just smiling and laughing by the beach, wearing her white flowy sundress, her hair swaying in the wind, telling him and Scorpius that she loves them. It feels so real when Scorpius babbles excitedly in the wind, as if talking to another person.
He vows to take care of their son as best as he could. Even if they were separated by life and death, Draco would never deign to disappoint his wife.
Scorpius Malfoy-Granger's hero is his dad. His father was the best; he gave him Mr. Flamey, the Hungarian Horntail stuffed toy; he makes him the best waffles; he kisses the boo-boos away; he reads his favorite dragon stories to him before going to bed; he always tells him that he loves him, and he brings Scorpius to the beach every weekend. Scorpius loves it when his dad looks at him with fond eyes or when he looks so proud of him when he learns a new word.
But there's one problem: his dad is so weird, like he's broken deep inside. Like a teacup with a huge crack, but oddly enough, it's still usable.
His father may not know it, but Scorpius sees him go to the forbidden library some nights just to sob in front of the huge portrait of a really beautiful lady while the beautiful lady placates him. Other times, his father looks at him with a smile or a grin that never reaches his eyes because sometimes his eyes project hurt, like something is missing from him or like Scorpius reminds him of someone.
Another problem is how everyone else seems to dislike his father.
Scorpius can still remember that one time they went to Florean Fortescue's for ice cream and everyone started making a huge berth from away from his father. The looks they gave his dad made him want to go home and hide forever. They looked at his father akin to a wild animal or in disgust.
Ever since then, his father never lets him out of the house without a glamour changing his hair color from pale blonde to a soft chocolate brown, just like the beautiful lady's brown hair in the library. His father also changes his own hair to brown and tells Scorpius to only introduce himself as Scorpius Granger. When he asks his dad why he needs to hide that he's a Malfoy, he only tells Scorpius that he's not supposed to have Malfoy in his name, but his mama insisted that Scorpius should keep his last name because she's a really brave person, then his dad gives him a shaky smile.
Every time Scorpius asks about mama, dad's eyes lose their shine like thunderclouds suddenly appeared and time suddenly stopped. He sees a calamity behind dad's eyes, forcing him to drop the subject every time. But today is Scorp's birthday, and he really wants to see what mama looks like. Every time dad tells Scorpius stories about mama, it feels like she hung the moon and the stars. In Scorp's mind, he doesn't know what she looks like, but she's the loveliest person he knows.
Scorpius concludes that his father is a very sad man, but he won't let his dad wallow in his misery. The thoughts of mama may hurt dad, but mama is also his greatest love. Shouldn't he be happy when he talks about her?
His father finally relents and lets Scorpius into the forbidden library so he could see a portrait of his mama, but all he could see is the beautiful lady. The lady has warm eyes, soft curly chocolate brown hair, and a smile that looks like sunshine.
"Hello, my dragon," she beams at him, and Scorpius finally gets it. His dad lost this beautiful woman, and even Scorpius feels like his world is at least ten times better just because of her presence.
"Mama," he smiles back, but why can't he stop the tears from falling?
"I miss you, mama."