He's known since the beginning that whatever this is -- was -- between him and Malfoy was just purely physical. Malfoy had made that abundantly clear. Harry, however, had fallen far too fast and too deep. It didn't make much sense back then and it s...
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Scorpius
~oOo~
"What did I say about giving Mimsy a hard time, Scorpius?" Draco says, trying to contain a chuckle at the sight of his toddler. Naked, but for his nappy, the little terror is trying to clamber over the hapless house-elf's head.
Hearing his father's voice, Scorpius stills. He timidly peers around Mimsy's ears, eyes bright with barely concealed mischief as he tries to gauge Draco's mood. Biting the inside of his cheek to reign in the amused grin threatening to split his face, Draco crosses his arms over his chest, raising a very intimidating eyebrow.
Suitably chastised, Scorpius immediately relinquishes his hold on the beleaguered house-elf.
"Désolé,Mimi!" He chirps.
Sporting a comically contrite expression on his cherubic face, he turns towards Draco, holding his stubby, little arms out, asking to be picked up.
The stern look on Draco's face melts as he smiles at his son. Barely four years old and already such a Slytherin. He knows he has Draco wrapped around his little finger.
"Thank you, Mimsy. I'll take it from here." Draco nods at the young house-elf.
Her face turning horrendously red, Mimsy bows low—her forehead practically grazing the floor—before she Disapparates with a soft pop.
Draco scoops Scorpius up, nuzzling his silken hair. He's missed his son. He wishes with every fiber of his being that he could have Scorpius with him all the time, but he knows its damn near impossible given his work schedule and he has absolutely no desire to leave his son in the care of Mimsy, no matter how capable the house-elf is. Scorpius deserves better than that.
