promise

a second chance

Piper is the most angelic thing he's ever seen.

Draco stands by the fireplace in Orion's library, delicately cradling Piper in his arms. She's just turned two years old and already, she's beginning to pick Draco over her own parents — if the way she calms when he holds her is anything to go by.

"A miracle, really," mumbles a sleepy Meriam from where she's curled up into Orion's side on the sofa. "She loves you."

Draco smiles down at Piper's sleeping face, one hand supporting the back of her head. "No surprise, considering you lot are lousy parents."

Orion chucks a balled up parchment paper at him, narrowly missing his ear. It bounces off the fireplace mantle and falls to the floor. "You get the good part. I'd like to see you waking up seven times a night to feed her."

Elara glances up from where she's been sketching on the armchair for the past half hour. "Don't encourage him. He'll start staying nights at your place just to prove to you he can."

Orion chuckles, throwing his head back against the back of the sofa, his arm tightening around Meriam who sighs and rests her head on his shoulder.

Elara and Draco had come over for dinner and have now ended up staying past midnight, sipping wine and talking. It feels oddly nostalgic to sit in this library with its high vaulted ceiling and arching stained glass windows. Draco keeps flashing back to memories of the war — of how many times he stood in this very place while trying to bring down the entire regime.

It still feels wrong — not to have to work towards something or worry for his life or his loved ones. He still feels like his Dark Mark will burn any second and he'll have to whisk himself off to Malfoy Manor.

But his arm never bursts into pain — and so he stands here with Piper sleeping away nestled against him. With his friends and his wife.

It's suddenly an effort not to let his eyes burn.

"You can keep her, you know," yawns Meriam, giving him a smile. She's a short, slim woman with straight dark hair and a sweet smile. Her roots are Chinese, as far as Draco knows.

"Don't tempt me," he warns and she laughs. The sound earns a grin from Orion and he runs a hand down her arm in a motion that reminds Draco of the way he smooths down Elara's hair — more for his comfort than hers.

"I'm pretty sure Piper's gonna grow up thinking Draco is her father," Elara puts in, her quill scratching across the parchment. "Merlin knows she spends more time with him than with you, Orion."

Orion smiles. "Piper Magdalena Malfoy? I have to admit, it has a better ring to it than Banks."

Immediately, Elara's smile fades — and Draco sees her falter. With a wince, she stares down at the parchment and his heart sinks.

Cautiously, he hands Piper back over to Meriam, making sure not to wake her and then moves over to Elara, perching himself on the armrest of the armchair and looking down at her sketch of him holding Piper. "Looks good."

She glances up at him, her eyes still heavy with emotion. He knows hearing Magda's name is always difficult for her. The last time she heard it, she'd escaped to the bathroom to cry and he'd gone after her to find her sitting on the floor, sobbing.

He slides his fingers through hers and brings her hand up to his lips, leaving a lingering kiss against it. He hopes it gives her as much comfort as it gives him. Hopes she recognises it for what it is. An I love you.

By the way she squeezes back, he thinks she does.

"More wine?" Orion retracts his arm from around Meriam, pushing to his feet and heading over to the little trolley laden with different bottles.