His Wife | Severus Snape x OC

seventy-three

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‹ MiraaChe ‹ has posted a new chapter!- ͙۪۪̥˚

┊❛ welcome to chapter seventy-three❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

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The late afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the Hogwarts courtyard as Draco walked at a leisurely pace, Alaric balanced securely in his arms. Alaric's small fingers gripped Draco's robe, his eyes wide with curiosity as he babbled nonsense, his tiny head turning in every direction to take in the sights of the castle grounds.

Draco's expression was calm, a rare sight given his usual aloof demeanor. His pale blond hair shimmered in the sunlight as he walked, his gaze occasionally flicking down to the infant in his arms. Every now and then, Alaric would let out an excited coo, waving his chubby hands toward something that caught his eye—a bird, a student rushing past, or the flutter of robes in the breeze.

"What are you going on about now?" Draco muttered, though there was no malice in his voice. In fact, there was a softness to his tone that few ever heard.

Alaric gurgled happily, babbling something incoherent as he reached up toward Draco's face, his tiny fingers tugging on a strand of Draco's hair. Draco winced slightly but allowed it, his usual sharpness muted in the presence of the little boy.

"You've got quite the grip, haven't you?" Draco said, pulling Alaric's hand away gently. "I'm hoping you won't turn out to be as much trouble as Potter."

Alaric responded with a series of delighted babbles, and Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "At least you're quiet company. Unlike most of the riffraff around here."

The two continued their peaceful walk through the courtyard, students passing by but keeping their distance, knowing better than to interrupt Draco Malfoy. It was a quiet moment, one Draco found oddly comforting, away from the usual pressures that weighed on him—his family, his future, and the Dark Lord's expectations. Here, with Alaric, things felt... simpler.

That simplicity was shattered when a shrill, unmistakable voice cut through the air.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

Draco's entire body tensed as he turned toward the source of the voice. There, standing with her ever-present smug expression, was Dolores Umbridge. Her eyes narrowed as they landed on Alaric, her lips curling into a disapproving frown.

"What a surprise to see you playing nanny, Mr. Malfoy," she said, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "I wouldn't have thought you the type to carry around someone else's child."

Draco's expression hardened immediately, his protective instinct flaring as he held Alaric closer. "What do you want, Professor?" His voice was cold, but controlled—every bit the composed Slytherin.

Umbridge took a few steps closer, her eyes lingering on Alaric with a look of distaste. "It's just... concerning, dear," she began, her tone patronizing, "to see someone of your potential distracted by such... unnecessary burdens."

Draco's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

"After all," Umbridge went on, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper, "you have your studies to focus on. Your future. Carrying around that child... well, it's bound to affect your grades, isn't it? The Malfoy name carries weight, Draco. You wouldn't want to squander it by letting something like this... hold you back."