Boy - (A 'Blaire Zabini' sequel) || Draco Malfoy

12 - Bonds

"Where are you going?"

Draco froze halfway down the staircase at the sound of his wife's voice.

Turning slowly on the step, he looked up at her scowling face as she furiously pulled her dressing gown tight across the beginnings of a protruding stomach.

"To work," he said, surprised at how easy the lie left his lips.

"At half past four in the morning?!" She spat, giving an incredulous bark of laughter.

"I wanted to attend to Orion first," he murmured, trying to keep his voice steady. "Unless you wanted to take him out on his morning walk?"

Astoria shuddered in disgust as though Draco had just asked her to take a swim through some rat infested sewers.

Shit, he'd been so keen to go back. It didn't even occur to him that it might look suspicious leaving at such an early time. He just wanted to see them again, to make sure it hadn't all been some sort of beautiful dream.

He'd hated saying goodbye the previous night, hated that he had to leave Blaire and their son to return to a woman he didn't even like, let alone love.

It was Blaire that he loved, Blaire he wanted to be with. He had been desperate to tell her that, desperate for her to know. But it was crass and unfair to say the words aloud whilst he was still married to Astoria.

He couldn't even fucking divorce her since Voldemort had made it illegal. Under his rule, once you were married, that was it; till death do you part, whether you wanted it in the first place or not.

Minimum sentence for caught breaking your marriage vows was death; maximum - the Kiss.

"Just don't be late home again," Astoria said, narrowing her eyes. "Tonight we announce the chosen godparents."

"Fine," Draco muttered bitterly. It's not as though he was ever going to have a say in the matter anyway. There was no point in arguing, there never was.

No, if he wanted any kind of freedom then he needed to continue keeping up appearances whilst helping to feed the resistance any useful information that could lead to Voldemort's downfall.

As for his unborn child, well, he'd never give up on him or her. And he was so fucking glad that Blaire understood that.

Blaire, the girl he should have married. Would she have been safer up here in this life if she hadn't been in that explosion? Only if she'd complied and agreed to become a 'good' Death Eater's wife, he supposed.

Although somehow Draco suspected she'd have rather cut off both her feet than attend 'work' dinner parties and make polite chit chat with his 'colleagues'. He could only imagine the biting, sarcastic remarks she'd surely make, and the thought made him feel a fierce burning love for her.

One thing was for certain, he'd have protected her and Jack with his life.

He still could, and he would. Nothing, not even wild hippogriffs could stop him now.

******

Astoria flinched as the slam of the back door echoed through their country manor.

Fury coursed through veins when she thought about her so called husband. The second she'd heard the spare bedroom door click open and shut that morning, she'd ran from her own, determined to find out what his reasons were for sneaking out early.

The utter arsehole had barely even seemed apologetic, already eager to escape the house he refused to even share a bed with her in anymore.

Returning resignedly to her room, she dropped her dressing gown and crawled back under the covers.