"Though my soul may set in darkness,

It will rise in perfect light;

I have loved the stars too fondly

To be fearful of the night."

— Sarah Williams

Draco's eyes fluttered shut, the spray of warm water soothing the coiled tension in his muscles. He was still shaken up by the sight of the mutilated bodies they had found two nights ago. Children. Fuck. Unbidden, images of crimson eyes, scales, and flayed flesh slipped through the cracks of his occlumency walls, the doors he kept shut trembling and rattling.

"Ah, Draco," a voice called out as he walked into the Great Hall and knelt before a throne of bones and serpents."I am told your wife is pregnant."

"Yes, My Lord," Draco responded despondently, the doors of his mind sealing, hardening, obeying his wishes and responding to his commands to close off every emotion until his mind was barren and desolate like the world around him. The room was cold, silent except for the hissing and rattling of snakes slithering between the cracks and crevices. The very stones of the hall pulsed with dark magic, casting a heavy and oppressive atmosphere that would have been suffocating if his body and magic had not adapted to it.

"I was beginning to wonder if your fragile wife was barren since it took you three months after your marriage to conceive." The Dark Lord chuckled, followed by the other Death Eaters in the room. A black python slithered across Draco's boots but he remained still, face blank and impassive as he watched its obsidian scales glimmer with an oily sheen under the greying light.

"Rise."

Draco lifted his head and stood, looking at the boy he once rivaled in this very place. It had been eight months since the Battle of Hogwarts and though the Dark Lord seemed to assimilate to his form, something was off. It was as if Potter's body lost all color, lost all life. His crimson eyes were stark on his waxy skin, his dark hair pulled back, setting his cold features more prominently. A dark energy radiated around him, alive and invasive, causing a faint tremor along Draco's fingertips.

"I'll admit, you've impressed me, Draco," the Dark Lord said with an eerie kind of calm. "I was curious how you would fare serving the face of your rival. And after your father lost his life during the ambush, I was almost certain that the Malfoy name would continue to bear his shame, his weakness. But you have climbed the ranks and pleased me."

Draco bowed. "Of course, my Lord. I wouldn't let petty childhood rivalry get in the way of the true goal." Draco was careful not to lie. The Dark Lord could easily detect them, as evidenced with the severed heads of Death Eaters that floated along the ceiling of the Great Hall.

The Dark Lord stepped forward. Instinctively, Draco thought of the meadow and the manor with many doors, sealing and opening selected ones, ready to redirect, manipulate, and evade his master. The doors shook under the expectation of what was to come next. But, before the Dark Lord could invade his mind, the door to the hall burst open, letting in Fenrir Greyback who dragged three large bodies with him.

Draco stepped aside and sneered in disgust as the brute shoved the bodies forward then licked the blood and dirt off his fingers with sadistic pleasure.

"My Lord," Greyback bowed, "while we were digging into Potter's past, we stumbled upon his muggle relatives." Draco maintained a blank expression but took note of the information about the Dark Lord's interest in Potter's past.

"Harry? Harry, my boy, it's us! Your Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and your dear cousin Dudley!" the muggle man sniveled. He was a portly man with sallow skin. He didn't resemble Potter at all. Neither did his wife nor their son. A putrid smell of sweat and dirt hung around them as they huddled together, looking up at Harry Potter for mercy.

The Dark Lord paused for a moment then laughed. It was a genuine laugh but it sounded hollow echoing over the vast space as his features stretched too wide. The serpents hissed and began to slither towards the flesh blood pooling around the muggles, tasting the palpable fear in the air. Their hopeful faces immediately vanished.

"I owe you my thanks," the Dark Lord said once he recovered, still grinning as he walked around them."When I finally took Harry Potter's body, it was ripe for the taking. My soul had easily acclimated with his because so early on it was already filled with so much anger and hate. From an early age, thanks to you — his own muggle family — he was filled with so much resentment. The way you treated him just because he had power," the Dark Lord chuckled coldly. "It was your own undoing. So much rage and hate from his treatment, abandonment, loneliness. It fed my soul, and I have you filthy muggles to thank."

Without warning, Nagini shot out and struck the older man, fangs piercing into his fat flesh. His wife and son screamed in horror as he choked on his own blood, dying slowly, painfully.

"Please! Please — Harry! We're family!" the wife begged, tears and snot running down her pinched face. "Dudley — at least spare Dudley!"

"Draco," the Dark Lord's voice echoed, summoning him without sparing him a glance.

"Yes, my Lord," he responded, taking a step forward.

"Let's fill the Great Hall of Hogwarts with music shall we?" he said as he raised both arms, head tilting upward.

"Yes, my Lord," Draco repeated, stepping in front of the muggles.

"Please! Please! Have mercy!"

"Crucio!" Draco hissed, watching the woman's body spasm as she let out a blood-curdling scream. The Dark Lord shut his eyes as if savoring the sound of some morbid symphony composed of the woman's screaming and her son's sobbing.

Crucio, crucio, crucio, crucio. Again and again, the screams ringing in his ears until it was a muted white noise. He meant it, he had to mean it. And so he did it again and again along with curses that rendered their bodies unrecognizable — but their faces were always impressed perfectly in his memory. More and more faces, again, and again —

No. They escaped. They were safe. They were safe.

Draco pressed his forehead against the tiled wall. The water had gone cold, but he savored it — letting it ground him as he built up his occlumency walls layer by layer, shutting every door, until he felt detached from his emotions and memories.

They escaped. He and Scorpius were safe. Scorpius was safe.

Ever since they made it out, he couldn't help but look over at Scorpius in the middle of the night or hold him a bit tighter (much to the little one's playful annoyance, constantly reminding Draco that he was a big boy now). Especially after the last mission, he couldn't help but be more protective of his son.

The day after the mission, everyone at the meeting was horrified. The only silver lining was that the Dark Lord was weakening and now that they knew of his larger plans, developing targeted strategies would be easier. Draco felt an ounce of smug satisfaction at the memory of Kingsley reprimanding Mclaggen for his shoddy planning. Luckily, there were no casualties but half of the team returned severely injured. Without the Golden Girl's brains and his luck upon stumbling upon Sirius Black's motorbike at some shed where he thought he would find brooms, he and Granger would not have made it out.

Unfortunately, the True Order took the motorbike, but Draco still remembered the powerful rush of flying on the contraption. When he had not spotted any broom, he vaguely recognized the vehicle as a muggle contraption for transportation and initially thought to use it to escape the wards quickly with Granger's injured body. Luckily, it seemed magicked so that it simply came to life the moment he hauled himself on to it, his natural broom reflexes allowing him to find his balance easily. The moment he sped off with Granger wrapped around him, instinctively, he could feel the magic on the bike urging them to take flight. Before Draco knew what was happening, they were speeding into the starry night.

Draco was cut off from his thoughts when, after fully dressing, he left the bathroom to find Scorpius acting nonchalant while playing with his stuffed dragon. Suspiciously, the little tot looked over exerted with his cheeks flushed and a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, as well as slightly wheezing.

"Scorpius... " Draco began. His son looked at him guiltily.

"I just want to pway with Mini," he pouted. Draco sighed. After the previous mission, Draco had become more strict with his son. Nevertheless, whenever Draco was preoccupied, Scorpius began sneaking out to go see Granger (or Watson when he couldn't find her). He knew that his son was safe, but he still couldn't let Scorpius think he could disobey his father like that, especially in the case of an attack.

"I know, Scorp, but you need to listen when I tell you to stay put, okay?" Scorpius kept frowning but nodded.

After finally getting Scorpius to nap, Draco went out in search of Granger, unsurprisingly finding her in the library. She looked in complete disarray — hair puffing up more than usual and violet circles under her eyes, no doubt having difficulty getting sleep after what they saw during the mission.

"After seeing you try to defend yourself that night without your wand, I was surprised the Order never trained you in basic self-defense without a wand," he said as he leaned against the doorway.

"It was never a priority," she said indifferently, obviously uncaring as she scurried across the room to another pile of books without looking at him.

"Without your wand you are a liability, Granger!"

She paused at his tone, finally looking at him with an anger that lit up her dull expression. She glared at him, fully present now, the burning ember so often stifled from the ashes of the war sparking into a blazing wildfire. Fierce, determined — a true Gryffindor lioness.

"That's why there are protocols for those kinds of situations, Malfoy! You weren't supposed to come back for me!" she fumed.

Hermione made to turn away but was stopped when a solid hand grabbed her wrist and twisted her around, shoving her against the wall. Large hands clamped around her other wrist, pinning it and its partner by her shoulders. She looked up angrily only to be met with Malfoy's bored hooded eyes.

"If you refuse to think your life is of any value," he said calmly, "then try to get your overused brain to understand it in these terms. You complain that the Order does not have enough manpower, not enough resources — well, that's how I easily managed to get here isn't it?" he said as he loomed over her but she refused to back down.

"The Dark Lord has expendable resources with the promise of power and his hold over the richest families in Britain. The Order has none of that. And so you would do well to get rid of that stupid Gryffindor pride for at least one bloody moment and start learning to save yourself," he hissed in her ear.

"Like a Slytherin then?" she asked, lacing her words with distaste. Deep down, she knew he was right. That feeling of being powerless when she was up against Dolohov without her wand haunted her. And although she told herself that one day she was likely to die on the battlefield for this war, like so many others had, a selfish part of her urged to live. Because she did — she wanted to live.

"Indeed, like a Slytherin," the edge of his lips lifted upwards, suggesting he hadn't perceived her comment as a slight at all. "I'll teach you, at least enough to defend yourself without a wand. Only some of the Death Eaters cared to learn hand-to-hand combat but they're all bigger than you so at least you'll have a chance," he said, assessing her expression.

She looked away however, conflict warring over her features. Before she could continue her internal debate, a slender finger hooked under her chin, forcing her to look upwards. Her eyes narrowed in defiance upon meeting his steely gaze, unafraid and unperturbed despite her internal turmoil.

After a moment, she gave him a sharp nod and he relaxed his grip. He nodded back in acknowledgement before releasing her and striding out of the room, curling his own hands as the warmth of her skin still pulsed beneath his fingertips.

***

" — well that's what it says, Granger!"

" — that's why it's called a guide! Not an instruction manual! Just because the parenting guide book says that you should expect his second molars to come out at exactly 25 months, doesn't mean — "

" — but that's the norm isn't it! Scorpius ought to be checked! It clearly says that a possible reason it's been delayed is because his molars might not be facing the right direction which could lead to — "

"My parents were dentists — teeth healers — Malfoy! You can't follow these parenting books so strictly and be so uptight. Every parent — "

They had been at it for hours. Ever since Malfoy found one of the only wizarding books in their small library, an old copy of Madame Melba's Guide to Parenting Wizarding Children, Malfoy had been obsessively pouring over every detail.

Hermione was about to continue her rant as he flipped through the pages, looking for his 'evidence,' but she paused when he pulled out a pair of silver-rimmed spectacles from his pocket. At her abrupt silence, he stopped flipping through the pages and looked up.

Upon noticing that she was staring at his reading glasses, a faint flushed crept over his features but he still kept a single indignant brow raised until she averted her eyes.

"As I was saying — "

"Mini! Mini! Look what Watsy give me last night!" Scorpius Malfoy toddled in, straight up to Hermione with a big grin on his face. "He give me chocwate! My favrite! Is yummy! You want some, Mini?"

Hermione fondly ruffled his head then took a small piece of chocolate from his little fingers and thanked him.

"How about me, Scorpius? Can I have a bit of chocolate?" Malfoy asked, looking affronted. To Hermione's amusement, the little tyke's mouth formed a little 'o' before he gobbled up the last piece of his chocolate.

"Sorry daddy, no more," the little boy garbled out innocently through his stuffed cheeks, face smeared with chocolate, while his father sported an incredulous expression. Before he could say anything, his head snapped in Hermione's direction when she let a laugh escape her lips. Malfoy's eyes dipped towards her hand covering her smile momentarily before he met her eyes with a half-hearted glare.

"Oh and look Mini what I drew!" Hermione was pulled from her exchange when Scorpius clambered up on her lap with a drawing. Hermione briefly glanced at Malfoy as the little boy snuggled against her and made himself comfortable on her lap, but his expression was unreadable. She looked over the piece of paper and saw a little blond blob that looked like a potato with a smiley face wearing tiny blue pajamas clutching what looked like an overstuffed lizard.

"Das me and my toy dwagon," Scorpius said as he pointed proudly at his work.

"And what is that?" Draco asked upon approaching them and pointing at two brown oval rocks on top of each other. A carrot seemed to be sticking out of the upper rock, and upon closer inspection, a frowning face seemed to be drawn on to it as well.

"Is Watsy!" Scorpius replied as if it was obvious. Draco blanched, then bit his tongue to keep from laughing. Hermione covered her mouth once again.

"Its... lovely!" Hermione choked out. Scorpius blushed and snuggled closer to her. "Do you want to give it to him?"

The little boy nodded at her shyly and she gave him a squeeze before calling Watson. Watson appeared a moment later, confusion evident in his crinkling leathery brow.

"Ms. Granger has called for Watson?" he said, eyeing Scorpius suspiciously.

"Oh! I hope we weren't bothering you, Watson, but Scorpius had something to give you!" Hermione gently put Scorpius down and encouraged him to step forward when he continued to look down and peek shyly at Watson, keeping his drawing behind his back.

"I have something for Watsy," Scorpius said as he pulled his drawing forward and presented it to the elf. Watson looked confused as he took the offered paper. "Is a drawing of me and Watsy. Here, das me and das Watsy."

Watson had a look of absolute horror on his face, but upon seeing Hermione's warning look, cleared his throat and nodded. "Watson is... er... thankful for the young Malfoy's gift," the elf said as he awkwardly held the paper with his thumb and forefinger. "If that is all..."

"Yes that is all, thanks, Watson," Hermione replied kindly. Scorpius grinned cheekily and waved as Watson disappeared.

A/N: Ahh I know, I know it's short! I had intended to post two chapters but this week has been hectic! I promise more action in the next one and, in fact, it contains a couple of my favorite scenes! Our favorite guy to hate is also making a comeback ;) Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!