Malediction: the love and life of Astoria Malfoy

Chapter Thirty Four

I would love to say that because of our conversation, Draco turned it all around, and the pair of them were now closer than ever. But that would be a lie.

However, I did prefer this rendition of the two. Instead of cold distance, obvious detachment, there was a new, total and all-encompassing, awkwardness. Oh so very awkward.

I do honestly believe Draco was disturbed that his attempts at tough-love were received as blatant disliking. Because, as much as Scorpius might have denied it, Draco loved Scorpius more than life itself. So, in the following weeks and months from that day, he tried a new tactic.

But, Draco being Draco, and Scorpius being Scorpius, it was usually difficult to watch.

For example, a few days after Scorpius's ninth birthday, he was sprawled on the sitting room rug, his nose in a new book he received as a birthday gift.

Draco walked in, saw this, stood awkwardly, hovering about Scorpius, I suppose searching for something to say, and came out with this, "Wow, Sites of Historical Sorcery, that's. . . you couldn't have paid me to read that when I was a kid," then his face turned and he looked rather embarrassed, and continued "Not that I think you should compare yourself to how I was, or, or that, well that there's anything wrong with that book or --" his face was very flustered, though he was obviously trying to keep a cool exterior. Scorpius was looking up at him, his eyes widening and smile wavering, his face changing with each word Draco stuttered, though he was nodding his head encouragingly all the while.

"What I, um, mean to say is that, uh, you're -- you're a really smart kid, and, well, that's" -- he crouched down to put a hand on Scorpius' shoulder -- "good."

I looked away from the trainwreck, feeling thundering waves of second-hand embarrassment. Scorpius was smiling, his eyes wide and bright, still nodding his head. "Thanks dad, that's um, you're a smart kid too -- wait, no, sorry, that was -- you're not a smart kid -- not-not that you're not smart though -- I just -- well, I mean, um. . . thank you." His ears had gone pink and he only made eye contact with Draco after he'd stopped sputtering.

Draco nodded once, a hard, forced grin on his face, and stalked out of the room rather abruptly.

My face was completely turned away and I was biting excruciatingly hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from laughing.

Then, Scorpius turned to me, and shrugged, an inquiring smile on his lips, roundness to his eyes, as if to say Eh? How was that?

I let one laugh escape in an exhale, and gave him a thumbs up.

Reassured, he exhaled contently at my approval, and nodded, this time to himself, looking downward with a very pleased and very relieved smile.

It was a start.

* * *

It came as a horrible and disturbing shock to everyone, when, the following February, Narcissa had passed away. 

I could not for the life of me understand why.

Just as I had been confused with Lucius' untimely death, I was with Narcissa's. At least he was an alcoholic, he was an ex-Azkaban convict, reasons why his health deteriorated so suddenly beneath him.

Narcissa, while definitely covering up her demons with a phony smile, was still a relatively (and I say this with a grain of salt) stable person. Afterall, all she really cared about was her son, and there he was, happy, healthy, and with her. So, again, her death was mystifying to me. As it was to Draco.

Unlike when his father had died, he took his mother's death to heart, and it was obvious, for weeks after it had happened, there something was off with him. She and him were close, and he'd cared very deeply for her.

Scorpius didn't take it well either. She'd loved him with all her heart, especially over the last four years we'd lived with her, and the two were close.

Her death disturbed me more than it probably should have, for reasons it probably should not have. First off, after years of living with her, any disdain we'd had for each other had worn away, and we actually had a relationship. Chatting over our morning tea with each other, gossiping about whatever rubbish was going on in the daily prophet. I would miss that.

But the thing that really set a pit in my stomach, was something I shouldn't have been thinking at the time, something that was selfish, or, perhaps not selfish, per say, but surely insensitive.

I had assumed, taken for granted, the idea that, for a least a while after I'd, well, gone, there would at least be someone else there for Draco and Scorpius. Someone there in case their relationship didn't smooth over, if they weren't doing well. Someone to take care of them.

Well that notion came crashing down, and, along with it, a whole new wave of panic for the impending threat that loomed over my head like a clock.