The Boy Who Protected The One He Loves

8

Luckily we had found Scorpius again by the tent where we left him. I sit in a single chair in the living room of the Shell Cottage, the house of Bill and Fleur, with Scorpius in my arms. I look at my ring.

Very dark blue, meaning grief and inmense sadness.

I wipe a tear away and Fleur squeezes my knee. She sits on the couch close to the chair. "Don't worry 'ermione.. everything will be fine," she says, a hint of her French origins in her voice.

"Oh yeah? I'm not so sure about that. Ron is upstairs, in agony about his wound on his arm and I sit here. My son has no father to care for him and I have a scar at my neck because of his crazy aunt wanting to kill me before his eyes!"

 My tears stream down my face and Fleur nods quietly. The door opens and Bill enters. "Shall I take Scorpius, Hermione, so you can sleep?" "No Bill, you just returned from work. I will take care of him myself," I reply, a little stubborn.

"Hermione.. you haven't slept in three days. Let us take care of him and catch sleep, you really need it. What does Scorpius have with no father and a terribly tired mother? Do you think exhausting yourself is better for him?"

Even though I didn't want to admit it, I knew he was right. I lift him in Fleur's arms and walk upstairs to very small room I had with Scorpius and Luna. For some weird reasons Luna didn't mind sleeping in one room with a crying baby and exhausted mother. I was glad for that.

I pull on a white t-shirt and red boxers and step in the bed. I crawl up under the blankets and within 5 minutes I was gone.

------

I couldn't sleep and couldn't eat. Mother and father were worried about me, because I didn't come out of my room.

I didn't even bother to open the curtains anymore. I just sit in a dark corner of my room in a chair, looking at nothing. If I even got out of bed.

"Draco.. may I come in," a quiet voice from outside my room asks timidly.

"Why," I sigh. My voice was racial because of all the tears, who now didn't want to come because my eyes were empty. My eyes were bloodshut and I have dark bags under my eyes. I probably look as bad and dull as I look.

"I want to talk with you," mother replies. I sigh, staring at the gloomy outsides through my window. "Why even bothering?" "Draco.. I know this is hard but you have to talk about it."

"Oh really mother, why should I," I snap at the door. The door flies open and my mother stamps in with my father following her. They both drag a chair to sit before me and turn the light on. I blink at the sudden light.

"I thought I locked this room good," I growl. "Draco, this is a hard period for you, we know-" father begins, but I interrupt him. "If everyone knows that so well, why wouldn't everyone just leave me alone," I scream at them. But it didn't stop there.

"I LOST MY CHILD! MY CHILD I COULD GET WITH MY GIRLFRIEND! HER MISCARRIAGE IS MY FAULT!" "Why should it be your fault, honey?" "BECAUSE I LEFT HER ALONE, MOTHER!"

"Draco, calm down." "NO! I WON'T!" "SILENCIO," mother yells. I try to scream again but nothing comes out of my throat.

"Finally some rest," mother sighs, clasping her hands together. "Draco, why don't you talk with Hermione. I'm sure you can sort this out and we can leave the house without the Dark Lord knowing," father asks.

"How can I talk with her then," I write on a piece of paper.

"She is in Shell Cottage, the house of Bill and Fleur Weasley. I can go with you," father replies. "I want to go as well," mother says quickly.

"We all go then," father says, smirking the famous family heirloom, genetically passed down.