Henrietta Potter And The Slytherin Child - (A 'Henrietta Potter' sequel) || D.M

28 - The Unexpected Lodger

I placed a mug of coffee noisily down on the table next to the sofa.

The white-blond haired Slytherin occupying it stirred, groaning as he tried to stretch out but finding barriers in the sofa's arms.

"How's your head?" I asked as confused grey eyes blinked up at me.

He sat bolt upright, immediately wincing in pain.

"Potter?!"

I observed as Draco gradually took in his surroundings - my Gryffindor red furniture; the many bookcases lining the walls; me.

"What...what am I doing here?" he stuttered, running his hands roughly through his hair, leaving it to fall back messily down over his face.

"Don't read anything into it." I said shortly, moving brusquely across the room to whip open the curtains, feeling a flicker of smug satisfaction as sunlight fell upon his face, blinding him. "You were drunk, I couldn't leave you."

He at least had the decency to look ashamed.

"You're a mess, Draco," I continued, placing my hands on my hips as I whirled around to face him. "You need to sort yourself out before you see Scorpius again. I know you've lost a wife, but he's a kid who's lost a mother."

"I know, I know," he said, rubbing his face in his hands. "I just- I don't know what to say to him, Etta. His mother has been dead for almost four months now and I could probably count on one hand how many words we've exchanged in that time. I keep thinking about writing to him, but I just don't know what I could possibly say."

"Merlin, Draco," I sighed in exasperation, "how about simply asking him if he's okay? Let him know that you are there for him, or that you love him, and he always has you?"

"I couldn't even fucking look at him when I saw him off on the train!" Draco roared, his face screwing up in anger as he thumped one of my Gryffindor cushions. "I've betrayed his mother his entire life. I fathered another child he doesn't even realise is his best friend. I slept with another woman whilst my wife lay dying in our bed! I hate myself; I hate everything I've become. How can I possibly call myself his father anymore?"

"Well, get the fuck over it then!" I snapped, getting fed up with this self pity parade. "Learn to carry your sodding guilt for your son's sake before he ends up 'damaged' just like your other one."

He looked up sharply, his face falling as yet more guilt swirled in his eyes.

"I should never have said that about Albus. I'm sorry."

"No, you fucking shouldn't have!" I scoffed, anger making my voice shake. "You don't even know him. And yet, here you are, crying on my sofa because you can't even face being a father to the son that you did bring up. It's pathetic, Draco. So don't you ever fucking judge me or my son ever again."

He flinched, a contrite look upon his face. Remaining silent, he reached shakily for his coffee, taking a tentative sip whilst I watched him, shaking my head.

"The truth is," he said quietly, keeping his eyes cast firmly downwards. "I was relieved when you offered to have Scorp over for the holidays. I could not bear the thought of the two of us rattling around in the manor over Christmas - that place sucks your soul; it has bad memories for me and now it has bad memories for Scorp too." He swallowed, sounding so lost and desolate that I found my heart twisting in pity. "This place, however... it's cosy, has warmth and is full of love-"

"Draco, are you hinting that you want to stay here for Christmas, too?"

"No!" He said a little too quickly, his face turning pink, "I just meant- I just-"