Cursed | Draco Malfoy, 18+

O n e - h u n d r e d

E i g h t  m o n t h s  l a t e r.

August 2000.

''Did she sleep yet?'' Amelie snuck up behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see the little life all nestled up in Malfoy's arms. Her voice was low, ''Tell me she didn't. I could use some Talia-time.''

Draco peered back at her, tilting his chin, and he settled a peck on the hand Amelie placed on his arm before his sight darted back to his daughter. He never took his eyes off of her for more than a second, and that mere second he didn't watch their daughter. He looked at Amelie instead. He couldn't stop looking at her either, ''She didn't. Not yet.''

He held Talia so close. She was so little. So tiny. So fragile. She wasn't similar to anything he'd ever fixed his eyes on before. She wasn't like anything else in their lives, ''But it looks like she's going any second now....'' Swaying his arms a bit from side to side, his body followed. He rocked her leisurely, steadily.

''Always in your arms,'' Amelie stretched up on her toes. Her hands splayed out over his spine as she settled her chin on his shoulder, ''She really is your little girl, isn't she?''

Draco huffed out a quiet chuckle. He loved when she did that, when she said it in the way she did, ''Our little girl,'' He was still quick to whisper, his eyes yet glued onto his daughter, ''She got your nose.''

''She has your eyes,'' Amelie said. A soft dash of laughter was heard in her vocals, and she left a kiss on Draco's neck, ''That speaks for more than a nose, doesn't it?''

Malfoy smiled as he exhaled feelingly. He didn't feel much. He didn't feel anything anymore, except them. His two girls. He never felt as much as he did when his wife hugged him.

''It sure does, but you're a Malfoy too now.'' Draco slowed his pace, rocking his daughter gentler now, ''She has your nose and your hair. Nothing beats that.''

She smiled at the memory. It was one of her best ones.

April 2000.

Draco placed a kiss on her stomach like he did every night before her eyes closed, and she hummed them all to sleep. Everyone still slept in their bed—all of them.

Atlas couldn't sleep if Draco weren't the one holding his hand as he faded into the world of imagination, and Teddy couldn't sleep if Amelie didn't have her arm over his chest. It was comforting, soothing to all of them.

A part of her believed that they needed it. All of them.

The world was lighter, much lighter, but something heavy still lingered within each and every one.

Atlas was nervous all the time. He was scared that the evil man would come back for them, and he missed their mother. Draco always calmed him when that happened. He ever so made sure to hug the little boy close and tell him all the reasons as to why their mother had to go. He didn't lie. Amelie wanted to lie.

She wished to lie and make up something for him to feel better, but Draco didn't. He told him the truth. He ever so said that they'd lied enough, all of them. Atlas deserved to know that their mother left Amelie to save her.

That it was either Amelie staying behind, hiding in plain sight, or her being taken away by the evil man. He told him how his mother saved them in her own ways, and Atlas loved hearing that. He loved sitting by the piano with Draco and hear all about his mother being a hero — because to Atlas, to him, she indeed was a hero. No grudge, no matter how much Draco resented their mother, he could never take that part away from Atlas.

''Do you promise he's gone?'' Atlas whispered, moving closer to the blond as Amelie laid beside them, listening, ''He can't hurt us anymore?''

Malfoy grunted a bit, shifting in his position as the covers followed, and he wrapped an arm around the boy, ''He's gone, little one. He can't hurt you anymore. He's gone, and we're safe.''