any man can be a father (draco)

[Scorpius Malfoy]

Somewhere in the pain and confusion of the last few days, Scorpius knew that his father had been here. Who had told him and fetched him, he had yet to find out. He wasn't sure why Draco was here either. All he knew was that his father was the last person he wanted to face right now. Mainly because his father had apparently been proved right; Scorpius clearly wasn't capable of coping on his own. The knowledge of that left a bitter taste in his mouth worse than the one he had woken up with after the whole thing, which had been a mixture of sour alcohol and vomit. He didn't want his father's judgement, or his snarky comments or his ridiculous moralising.

So although he had been vaguely aware when his father had last appeared by his bed, he had pretended to be completely out of it, putting off the inevitable a little longer. He could not put it off forever though, he knew that, and therefore he only felt a kind of bitter resignation as the door of the ward opened and Draco Malfoy appeared in it. He half considered closing his eyes and pretending to be asleep, but it was too late and too obvious, and so would just look pathetic. Instead he lay where he was on his back and fixed his eyes on the ceiling, having given his father only the briefest of glances, and waited, refusing to show any reaction...

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco Malfoy stood outside the door of his son's hospital room, arms hanging heavily by his sides, barely able to breathe. The past few days had been the slowest of Draco's life; it appeared each time that he assumed the worst part of his life was taking place another misfortune would strike the family and would replace what he had previously thought was the lowest he could ever get to. There had been Ella's illness - he still couldn't bring himself to refer to it as an eating disorder without visibly wincing - and Damien running away the previous summer, and Astoria becoming so dangerously depressed that it had downright terrified him. And now Scorpius winding up in St Mungo's, looking so broken, so pale and bruised and beaten that it horrified Draco. It felt almost as though each of his children's lives had been dangled over the edge, coming so close to death that Draco was constantly anticipating that his children were soon to be in danger, yet again. He couldn't shake off the feeling of impending doom, and now the feeling had worsened, taking hold of his body, making him numb.

Ever since Damien had returned home a few days before, panicked and stricken, ashen-faced and talking at top speed about Scorpius in St Mungo's and Teddy and Sebastian, sounding almost as though he was going to cry, Draco had barely spoken a word. He'd yearned to hug both Damien and Ella, as they seemed so terribly young in that moment, as though they were children again, but he hadn't, instead opting for hurrying, tight-lipped, to St Mungo's, stone-faced. The only people he'd truly interacted with were the Healers, and although they had all been helpful and sympathetic, they classed him almost immediately as rude and closed-off as whenever a question was asked of him they were answered rather impolitely, generally with an edge to his response that suggested they were incredibly irritating.

He had visited Scorpius many times in the past few days, settling down on the chair beside his bed and looking at his son and wondering where, exactly, how, exactly, he had gone so wrong, how he had veered off in the wrong direction so suddenly. He wanted Scorpius to open his eyes, he wanted to hold his son's hand or even hug him, to supply his son with his own strength to make up for the loss of his, but Scorpius had stayed very much unconscious every time he had been visited. Draco would have rather died than admit it to anyone, but there was a guilty sense of relief at the fact that Scorpius hadn't woken up, that he hadn't been obliged to say the right thing, to comfort his son, just yet - Draco simply didn't know how to be a father, didn't have that natural knack of dealing with his children.

Inhaling deeply, Draco clenched his jaw, attempting to ready himself for facing his son as he'd been informed that Scorpius had awoken and had already been talking to certain other people. Somehow, he couldn't quite bring himself to open the door just yet - it seemed as though the sooner he opened the door, the sooner he had to perform, the sooner he had to become a father, the sooner he had to act a man. And he simply wasn't ready, and he was coming to the conclusion that he never had been.

A Healer who had been walking past him down the corridor hesitated before turning towards him with a half-smile, inquiring whether or not he was lost. Draco, eyes fixed firmly on the door in front of him, replied with a curt, "No. My son's in here." The Healer hovered beside him for a moment with a rather puzzled look on his face, evidently wondering why Draco was standing outside the room his son was currently in rather than being right beside his son. Draco threw him a look full of poison, but the Healer did not seem to notice as he stepped forward and put his hand on the door-handle, obviously taking it upon himself to reunite father and son. Draco almost opened his mouth to order the man to halt in his tracks, but managed to stop himself just in time, as the door opened and the Healer threw him one last puzzled smile before taking off down the corridor. Exhaling this time, Draco stepped into the room, preparing himself for whatever was to come.

Before Draco knew it, he was stood in the middle of the room, faced with the sight of his son laying in his hospital bed. Scorpius had spared him the briefest of glances - so brief it could've been imagined - before focusing his attention on the ceiling, obviously very carefully avoiding looking at his father. Draco found himself frozen on the spot for a moment. It was very important to speak now, he knew, to make apologies, to reconcile with his son, and yet his throat was dry and the words seemed to stick there. He took a couple more tentative steps into the room before sitting on the edge of the chair that sat beside Scorpius' bed, unable to tear his eyes away from his son. He sat there for a few moments, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally, he brought himself to speak, fist clenching and unclenching nervously as he said, hoarsely, "I was very worried."

[Scorpius Malfoy]

With grim stubbornness, Scorpius refused to so much as look round as his father approached him. He could hear him getting nearer, and as he arrived by the bed, Scorpius could see his movements from the corner of his eye, but look at him he would not. Scorpius had been telling the truth when he said he was through with being the one to make the first move, to make the effort, to try and communicate. He'd nearly died. His father could make the effort and talk to him, or he could get lost. And if he was going to be his usual self, he could get lost anyway. Scorpius couldn't deal with that just now - and he could put on as much bravado as he liked, even to himself, but the truth was that he couldn't deal with it because it hurt too much. Part of him just wanted to be as unfriendly and ungrateful as possible, to push his father away from him, just to get it over with.

But then there was Ella. He knew that his sister wanted him to come home, and that wasn't happening, but it meant so much to her that Scorpius didn't simply drift away from their family... For her sake, he couldn't push them all away, even when they were the very last people he wanted to see or talk to. For his own sake though, he couldn't be the one to reach out, so he compromised by lying silently as his father sat down. Waiting. How he responded would depend on what Draco said... if he ever said anything, Scorpius thought exasperatedly, as they continued in silence.

He hadn't known what he was expecting, so the words his father eventually spoke weren't really a huge surprise - he didn't think anything would have surprised him at the moment. Finally, he turned his head to look at his father, his eyes blank. For a few moments, he simply looked at him, examining his face. He knew that he himself looked like shit - though not quite as much like shit as he had done - but Draco didn't look all that great either, he thought. He looked... tired, mainly. Almost as tired as Scorpius felt. Then again, it occurred to him that it was so long since he had bothered to look at his father's face at all, maybe he always looked like that. Maybe it was nothing to do with Scorpius after all.

He opened his mouth to reply at last, the usual snarky retorts rising to his lips - something along the lines of 'Good to know' or Wow, didn't realise you cared...'. Then he closed his mouth again, swallowing them down. Because they wouldn't be real. He could do it; he could put the mask on and pretend to be fine, but that would be pushing his father away, the thing he owed it to Ella not to do. And anyway, if he was honest, in some deep down part of him, it was good to know. Maybe, in some small way, his father still cared after all...

He opened his mouth again, not even sure what he was planning on saying. "Me too," he said quietly at last, not bothering to elaborate on this. In fact, he'd been more terrified than worried...

[Draco Malfoy]

Scorpius' eyes were blank when he turned to face Draco, and Draco started. He had promised to himself that he would be strong, for once, he had willed himself in his agony, sitting outside Scorpius' room that first night, to never falter again, but when Scorpius turned towards him, emotionless and broken, a shock ran through his body. Looking at Scorpius in the hospital bed was something akin to watching his son on his deathbed - an experience no parent would ever want to face, an experience that every parent dreaded and knew would someday come, and their only hope was that it would come after their own passing. His eyes were locked with Scorpius' as his son examined him, and Draco searched for any sign of love or forgiveness in Scorpius' face but found none - whether it was because he simply couldn't read his son or because his son simply felt no love towards him, he couldn't tell, but he ached with the realisation that it was probably the latter. What did his son have to love him for? He had practically disowned Scorpius, practically forced him towards Teddy, instead of pleading with him to return home. That was what a good parent would have done. But Draco had never been able to swallow his pride, especially not when Scorpius was involved.

"No," Draco averted his gaze from his son, realising that he had been misinterpreted - he hadn't been merely worried when he had found out about Scorpius, he had been petrified. No, he was talking about something completely different altogether. "When you - when you went to live with Teddy. In the first place," his voice was low, but he knew that Scorpius would be able to hear him perfectly. He clenched his fists again, watching his skin stretch over the bones in his hand and turn a ghostly white. "I was very worried. Teddy is - he's fine. He's fine," Draco repeated, knowing that Teddy was more than fine, that Teddy was the reason that Scorpius had had shelter when he had left home, the reason that Scorpius was in St Mungo's and not collapsed in a ditch somewhere. "I just...worried, a lot. And you wouldn't tell me where you were for so long..." he trailed off, the rest of the words he wanted to say not quite able to escape from his mouth. He wanted to show Scorpius just how difficult it was for your children to be out of sight, for your entire family to leave and be at risk of never coming back. He wanted to show Scorpius that he didn't know how to do anything other than cast his son away because he couldn't swallow his pride.

"Are you feeling better?" He murmured, after another moment's silence, in which Draco had retreated into his mind, which was a very dark place to be at that time of his life, and where he would be dragged into constantly, and often had to exert serious energy to drag himself back into reality.

[Scorpius Malfoy]

Scorpius looked away again as Draco explained what he had meant, staring at the end of the bed as his father's words filtered through. It would be so much easier not to have this conversation - to do what they were both so good at and ignore all the unsaid things, pretend everything was fine, exchange a few pseudo-polite words and then go their separate ways with nothing explained and nothing changed. So much easier just to leave things as they were and not try to mend them, not try and talk about how they were actually feeling. But he knew he had to face it if he didn't want to throw any kind of relationship with his family away - and he didn't want that, he never had. For the first time in a long time - maybe forever - his father was actually talking honestly, and Scorpius couldn't turn his back and walk away... He felt a stab of something like shame when he remembered how he had deliberately wound his father up by refusing to tell him where he was living. At the time, it hadn't seemed like a big deal, just a little stab of revenge for all the times his father had acted like he didn't give a damn. Now he began to realise that maybe it had been more than that to Draco, who genuinely hadn't had a clue where his son was... For all he'd known, Scorpius could have been living under a bridge... He took a deep breath, none of the words he wanted to say - knew he had to say - coming easily.

"Sorry," he murmured at last, the word coming out reluctantly - it was never easy for him to apologise, at least not genuinely, because apologising meant admitting he'd been wrong. "I was just..." he looked at his father again, a slightly accusing expression coming into his eyes, "If you'd asked at the start, I'd have told you where I was going. But you didn't ask... And then you just told me I had to tell you, like I'd been keeping it a secret... so I got annoyed," he finished simply. He had got more than annoyed - his father hadn't even bothered trying to treat him like an adult and ask what his plans were in a reasonable manner; he'd just come wading in, his tone sounding as if Scorpius was a naughty kid who'd been caught sneaking out of the house. So he'd lashed out, withholding the information for no more reason than that his father hadn't asked for it politely. It still annoyed him when he thought about it, but he found himself wishing that he hadn't reacted the way he had - it had been petty and childish, both things he had been trying not to be. His pride was as bad as his father's though, and he hadn't been able to help it.

He paused for a moment, thinking about the answer to his father's question. Did he feel better? Physically yes, he supposed he did. Mentally... not so much. But he certainly wasn't at the point that he could easily talk about that with his father.

"Yeah... a bit better than I was," he said at last. He didn't really want to talk about the events that had led to him ending up here. At least when they were talking about why he'd left home and why he hadn't communicated properly, he could avoid the horrifying mortification he felt when he realised what he'd managed to do to himself. It would be too much to hope that his father wouldn't ask any questions though..

[Draco Malfoy]

Despite the fact that Draco had been holding out for an apology for so long, that if it had been months previously he would have rejoiced at getting an apology, he still felt numb, even when Scorpius offered him the apology, even when Scorpius went on to elaborate. Where would the source of the pride be? What could Draco be proud of, when his son was lying in a hospital bed? Everything Draco had clutched onto for the past couple of months proved themselves, suddenly, as utterly irrelevant, petty and childish and silly and foolish. Foolish was what he had been - foolish was a perfectly apt description of Draco Malfoy. He was terribly foolish, and a terrible waste of a person, perhaps even a waste of space. It was almost as though for the past couple of years he hadn't been living at all; every day blurred into the next, a string of hours and minutes that he couldn't differ from the other. He wanted so much to change things, and yet he didn't thing he could. People constantly mouthed off that you could change things at any time, that you should live each day as though it was your own, but it wasn't possible. It didn't happen. The wheels were set in motion.

"I was annoyed, too," Draco confessed, before halting in his tracks and then suddenly chuckling, a chuckle that was totally unexpected by Draco and knocked him off course completely. The chuckle had been one of those startled ones, the types that came because the only thing you could do was either laugh or cry, and if you weren't laughing you'd end up crying. He'd given that sudden chuckle because of course he had been annoyed, and Scorpius was the person who knew that he was annoyed the most, as he had taken out most of his annoyance on his eldest son. He stifled the laugh, sobering almost instantly, averting his eyes from Scorpius'. "I don't think you realise how difficult it's been, this year, for your mother and I," he hesitated, realising that bringing up Astoria would probably prompt more questions about her, but he battled onwards regardless, continuing, "Ella with her - illness - and Damien running away...and sometimes, it's almost as though you want to destroy yourself. I was angry at you because you were being a child," he cleared his throat, before saying, tone becoming slightly apologetic, "But I was mostly angry at myself, because I didn't treat you like a man. If I had, it'd have probably worked out a bit better..."

Draco hesitated again, dragging his gaze back to his son, still feeling that horrified fascination as he stared at him, taking in how broken and shattered and tired his son looked. "They told me that you drank...quite a lot. Before you went on your broomstick," he said, each word extremely clipped, the bare minimum of emotion seeping through the cracks. They were plunged into another moment of silence, before Draco finally, finally, said the question that had been what he had wanted to ask along: "Why?" Attached to this question was the unspoken, "Was it because of me?"

[Scorpius Malfoy]

Scorpius had been shutting it out for so long. Coming to terms with the fact that his father, whom he had once looked up to and tried to imitate and wanted so much to be proud of him, didn't actually give a damn about him, except as someone to hand the Malfoy family name and fortune over to. Convincing himself that he was okay with that, that he didn't care, that he could move beyond the place where it hurt... It was almost impossible to get out of that mindset and face the reality that was in front of him, that maybe his father wasn't completely indifferent after all. He'd taught himself to deal with the other reality; he had no defences against this one, and it twisted his heart with an emotion he couldn't really recognise.

He glanced up, startled at the sound of his father laughing - not a real laugh, and Scorpius wasn't sure what was funny, but he didn't think he'd heard any sort of laugh from Draco for a very long time. His own lips twisted into a sort of bitter smile as his father went on though, not really in amusement, but in the predictability of Draco's words. Of course, this was all about how hard it had been on him, as always...

"Yeah, and it's all been fun and games for me and Ella and Dao," he said, the bitter words slipping out before he could stop them, though he regretted it almost instantly, because he hated himself when he started to use cynicism and sarcasm to cover up what he was actually thinking - those were the times when he could feel himself turning into his father and grandfather. "I'm sorry," he said again, the words coming slightly more easily this time, "I don't mean... I'm not saying it wasn't hard for you... but maybe it would have been good if you'd let us see that it was difficult for you too, instead of just carrying on like you didn't give a shit..." He stopped, swallowing before he said something he'd regret, if he hadn't already done that. He couldn't answer his father's words about him wanting to destroy himself. He couldn't tell him about the times he'd wanted to drink himself unconscious and not wake up, because he hadn't told anyone about those times, not even Roxanne. The important thing was that he'd never actually tried to do it. And he wouldn't, because in the end, it was only a thought, and there was a long distance between thinking about something and actually doing it. He wanted to ask about his mother, but again, the words stuck in his throat. They would only bring more evasions, more excuses, more silences. And it would mean that he'd have to face the fact that although he'd come close to death, although he was still lying in a hospital bed half broken... his mother wasn't here, and he minded.

His father's final words hit him with guilt though, because he had acted like a child, and Draco was now admitting that he'd been wrong in his approach. They'd both made mistakes, and he was still blaming his father for that... "I should have told you earlier..." he said slowly, the looked up at Draco again, the accusation gone from his eyes, "But I was waiting for you to ask..." And when, eventually, Draco had asked, it had been too late because Scorpius had already given up on him.

He looked away again, biting his lip at the inevitable question, but not answering immediately. He wasn't sure he even knew the answers, not really. His conversations with Roxanne and Ella had had time to sink in, and he was facing certain unpleasant facts... He could easily blame his father. There was plenty to blame him for, and it was certainly the argument they'd had that had led to what had happened... But in the end, nobody had made him do what he'd done...

"Because... because I drink too much a lot of the time," he said flatly at last, "Because it's the easy way to deal with things. And I fly because it makes things feel okay again, so it seemed like a good idea. I was drunk and a lot of things seem like a good idea when you're drunk... And I know how stupid it was, so you don't need to tell me..." Though that hadn't stopped anyone telling him that so far, he thought resignedly.

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco sobered up immediately at Scorpius' next bitter words, which were absolutely true and because of that hurt more than any lie ever could. The truth being flung at him in such a fashion was more painful than Draco could ever express. He knew that his children had been having a terrible couple of years; he knew that they felt as though he didn't care, he knew that he had been acting like he didn't care. But he had never known how to act any different - Draco was cold and not very good at showing affection and he didn't know how to force it because it would feel so fake, such a lie, even faker than their family already was. It was as though Scorpius had confirmed in that one sentence what Draco had been fearing for the past year or so; that everything that had happened to his children was Draco's fault. Every part of their hurt and heartache had been inflicted on them by him.

"I didn't want you to see that it was difficult," Draco admitted, suddenly totally unable to look in his son's eyes. He picked a spot on the wall across from him and fixed his gaze on it, hands clasped together tightly on his lap, so tightly that it looked as though his knuckles were about to burst from his skin. "You were all acting out and...I know that was our...my fault -" the words, when they were finally spoken, cracked in his throat, " - but I was furious because you were all acting out. And it was as though...you were all acting badly, and when I didn't react, you would complain...but whenever I complained about you drinking...or...whenever I got angry...it was as though you all expected me to baby you, to understand..." his voice was fuelled, very slightly, by anger now, as that was a sore point for Draco; he knew that his children's antics could be down to wanting attention or simply being self-destructive but he simply didn't see why he was expected to not be furious at them when they were acting the way that they were. It was a two-way street, wasn't it? Their relationship couldn't be fixed if all three of the children carried on the way they were, and if Draco carried on the way he was - there would have to be an effort made on both sides, because Draco couldn't help be furious if Scorpius was being sarcastic and deliberately tricky and Ella drinking and Damien running off. He wasn't sure how to make them understand that it wasn't possible.

"Yes. You should've," Draco agreed grimly, attempting to force the anger from his voice as it would simply be no good to get started because once he did get locked on in one of his rants it took him ages to calm down again and he had no time for that sort of ridiculousness. "But...I should have asked earlier as well," he admitted, nodding his head jerkily. He still believed, however, that even if he had asked earlier Scorpius would've played mind-games with him and been deliberately tricky, because Scorpius, in the past few years, had definitely taken to undermining him in any way possible which was another source of deep irritation.

Draco flinched when Scorpius confessed to drinking too much quite a lot of the time, knowing well what, exactly, Scorpius was talking about when he spoke of drinking appearing to be the easy way to deal. But it wasn't, was it? Draco did drink quite a bit himself, every now and again, more than ever these days because when he got home and Astoria wasn't there and he had to retire to an empty bed it took the edge off. But it was so cowardly. Had he brought his son up to have to take refuge in drink? It must have been him, and the realisation stung.

"I don't have to tell you how stupid it was," he said after another long silence, his voice sounding surprisingly strong for the first time in their encounter, "But if I didn't, I think it would make me a worse father than I already, apparently, am." There was another short silence in which Draco managed to gather up his thoughts and also gather up the courage to look Scorpius straight in the eye. "I can't believe you did this to yourself," Draco said, this sentence very obviously the start of a typical lecture given from a parent, although there was a definite undertone of fury in Draco's voice, which he was struggling to keep even. "You're not a stupid boy, Scorpius, which is why I'm so amazed that you managed such a stupid thing. You could have been killed. How did you think it felt for your brother to find you in that way? How do you think it felt for Teddy?" Draco demanded, voice rising slightly, although he clamped it down again before continuing, not wanting to lose control. "Teddy is sharing his house with you when he had no real obligation to you and you've paid him back with this. You don't want to be treated like a child and we will work on that but all this suggests is that you haven't been taking being an adult seriously yet. Don't you dare drink yourself into such a state again. Don't you dare do it because much as you seem to think otherwise there are people who care about you - and they've all been sitting out there for days, worried out of their minds!" He broke off, breathing heavily, slightly surprised at himself and this sudden anger that had burst from him. But he didn't regret the anger, because in that moment he'd felt like a real parent, not an imitation of one as he'd been feeling for so long. He absorbed the moment, letting his anger sink in onto both of them, and there was another long pause in the conversation.

"You're still with the Weasley girl," Draco began, shortly. "I saw her. Out there. She looked...very upset." Draco hadn't spoken a word to her because ever since she'd wrote to him he'd harboured a deep hatred for her - beforehand he'd just disliked the fact that Scorpius was going out with a Weasley, but now it was her, all her, that stupid rude Roxanne Weasley who'd accused him of being a bully and had caused him to go almost purple with anger. He wondered now, however, whether or not he had fuelled their relationship, whether Scorpius was with her partially because he wanted to piss his father off - there was always a chance, however, that Scorpius truly cared about her, which frightened Draco more than the prospect of Scorpius being with her simply to be rebellious. Perhaps now it would simply be better to let them get along with it - to allow them to go along as they wanted and hope that they would part soon enough. Teenage relationships rarely lasted, after all.

[Scorpius Malfoy]

This felt like the most honest conversation he'd had with his father in a very long time; maybe ever. And it was somehow a relief; it was difficult and painful, but it was like getting dirt out of a wound; it hurt like hell and it would be so much easier just to stop and leave it, but at the same time it was the only way to get everything clean... It wasn't going to magically make everything okay, but at least they were finally talking, not just sniping at each other. And the experiences of the last few days seemed to have shaken him out of whatever place he'd been in before; out of the anger that had stopped him seeing anything other than all the ways Draco Malfoy had fallen short of being a father. He didn't think he would ever again be able to look up to his father in the way he had done when he'd been younger, but for the first time he began to realise just how difficult it must have been for Draco to watch what was happening to their family without being able to stop it. And maybe it was his fault in the first place, but then again, Scorpius knew all about not being able to express your emotions or admit weakness; could he really blame his father for that? It was as if he was seeing things clearly, objectively, for the first time...

Suddenly, as his father talked, he almost wanted to laugh, because of course they had done all that, though how Draco could describe Ella's eating disorder as 'acting out' he wasn't sure - did he think she'd done it deliberately to spite him? But he and Damien had been as difficult as they possibly could have been the last few years, but then was that really surprising? "We're teenagers," he pointed out, "It's what we do... And it wasn't just your fault," he admitted. That was true; for himself, it had been more his grandfather that had driven him to do what he'd done. The thing was that other parents seemed to manage to be angry with their wayward teenagers and then forgive them, rather than be angry and then push them away... "Did you ever complain about my drinking?" he added, "I didn't know you'd even noticed..." And that was the trouble - when it came to ordinary things that most parents would be angry about, Draco had acted like he didn't care, and then got angry about the big things, the bits that should have been more worrying than angering... But Scorpius found that he couldn't be angry himself any more. Maybe when he was feeling stronger again, the anger would come back, but right now it seemed like too much effort. No, Draco Malfoy had never known how to be a proper father, but where was the point in blaming him for that, especially given what sort of example he'd had himself? It was what it was, and even talking about it felt like a step forwards, even if they didn't get any further than this.

He forced himself to meet his father's eyes as he received a fairly thorough telling off, and bit back the defiant retorts that wanted to spring out. He was tired of hearing it, he already knew it all, and he couldn't help feeling bitterly that if his father wanted the right to talk to him like that, he should have been behaving slightly differently for the last few years... but at the same time, he also knew that he deserved every word of it, and at least, for once, his father was behaving in the way you'd expect a parent to behave... He flinched as his father mentioned Teddy, because it was true; Teddy hadn't bargained for Scorpius half killing himself and ending up passed out in the bathroom with blood everywhere when he'd invited his cousin to live with him, and right from the start, Scorpius had felt bad for the extent to which Teddy seemed to think he needed to look after him. So much for him doing his own thing and not bothering his cousin... There didn't seem to be any obvious reply to make, and he was having difficulty finding words anyway, as he was hit with another rush of emotion, this one entirely unexpected, because however angry his father was, the very fact that he wasn't indifferent suddenly seemed to mean the world, and he swallowed painfully before speaking.

"I know. I'm sorry," he said quietly at last, the apology seeming to come much more easily this time somehow, "And I've already promised two people I won't get into that state again. I'll promise you too if you want..."

He had to bite back annoyance again at his father's next words, but he managed it, keeping his voice steady as he looked seriously at Draco. "Yes, I am," he said steadily, "And hopefully I will be for a long time... But can you please not call her that? Her name's Roxanne..." He didn't know whether he was pushing his luck, and he didn't think he could ever expect his father to like the fact that he was going out with a Weasley, but if they were going to get anywhere at all, he was going to have to get used to it...

[Draco Malfoy]

"Not all teenagers get drunk and end up nearly killing themselves," Draco pointed out curtly, knowing fully well that he was probably being too harsh on Scorpius and that Scorpius was bright enough to work that out for himself but feeling far too bitter to let that go. "Not all teenagers run away from home. I know - I know teenagers drink at...parties, and the like," Draco sounded as though the words were wrenched from him, tone deeply disapproving, although he himself had drank a bit when he was a teenager (never to the extent that his children seemed to, though). "I know rebellion is to be expected...but do you three honestly think that I can deal with all three of you rebelling and self-destructing and sulking and being angry all the time? How can I repair our relationships if all three of you are trying so hard to break them?" It was true that it had started off with Draco; he had always been a bit emotionally detached, a bit sparing with his affections, and expected much of his children. But they had to be smart enough to realise that it was too late for him to do it on his own, and if they didn't co-operate then they'd all crash and burn. When Scorpius admitted that it wasn't just Draco's fault, how he wound up the way he was, Draco knew at once who he was referring to. As usual, he jumped straight to the defence of his father, saying, "Your grandfather is..." before trailing off. The truth was, Draco was scared of his father. He loved him, but in a wary manner, a dutiful manner. His father had never been affectionate, nor had he been soft or understanding. Draco, for example, had never once shared such a conversation with his father. Draco was very much aware of his father's mistakes, and had spent many years bitterly furious towards him, and yet also terrified of him and infuriated by the fact that he still loved him. Despite everything, Draco still loved his father and couldn't not help defending him, perhaps because it felt as though he was defending himself, in a way.

"Your grandfather loves you, Scorpius," Draco continued firmly, knowing that Lucius did love his grandchildren - he still loved Draco, didn't he, despite the fact that Draco had been an inadequate son? And surely Lucius wouldn't be so invested in Scorpius' choice of girlfriend did he not love him? Deciding that, yes, Lucius did love Scorpius, he battled on, saying, "He wouldn't have such an interest in your personal life if he didn't. He just wants the best for you. He has..." Draco struggled for a moment, before finally conjuring up, "He has old-fashioned ideals."

Draco considered Scorpius' next question. He supposed that he had noticed the fact that Scorpius drank every now and then, but he wrote it off as Scorpius being a normal teenager, and decided against kicking up a giant fuss. He realised, ashamedly, that he had come to a point where he let his children do what they want simply because he had decided that it was them who would face the consequences and that they were old enough to know better, which had been ridiculous because Scorpius had been quite young when he had started drinking - younger than Ella was now. Of course, Ella was no better, although when Draco had found her drunk it had sent a wave of terror through his body. He had always seen Ella as his little girl, even in the chaos of it all, even when he appeared cold and curt towards her, and so imagining her getting wasted at a party was beyond horrific for Draco. Finally, he managed, "I noticed. I didn't realise that you were drinking so much, though." And he left it at that.

"I don't want you to promise," Draco said dismissively. "It doesn't matter what you say. I need you to do it. Stop this behaviour right now. Stop the excessive drinking. Stop the childish attitude. You've moved out and you want to start your adult life, so start it," Draco ordered his son, realising that he sounded like a positive tyrant and yet not quite giving a damn. He hesitated a moment, looking as though he was positively in mind-numbing pain before choking out in addition, "And if you try, I'll try as well." He elaborated no further, hoping that his son wouldn't chuck any sarcastic comments at him, as he had always seemed to do beforehand.

Draco pressed his lips together in a thin line - a line so thin that it was in danger of disappearing altogether. It was a simple thing, for Scorpius to request that Draco called the Weasley girl by her first name, and yet Draco wasn't quite sure if he could bring himself to do it. He'd spent a long time resenting her, spent hours pacing his study, hours ranting and raving to himself. Her letter held a great deal of truth, and yet Draco was not in the least grateful because it had caused him quite a great deal of pain as well, and given him a burden that he had no-one else to share with. He felt rather like a single parent these days, due to his wife being in hospital, felt as though he had to raise three children that despised him and that, ultimately, he would fail at everything that he had left to do. Calling her by her first name would feel like forgiving her; calling her by her first name would feel like letting her triumph. Draco had painted a picture of a smug, patronising, idealistic young girl in his head and could not shake the assumption. "She wrote to me," Draco revealed finally. "I don't know if you knew that. It was a couple of months ago."

[Scorpius Malfoy]

"True, I suppose," Scorpius acknowledged, trying to keep his voice relatively light and un-annoyed. It still seemed to him that his father was whining about things that where all just part of being a parent, but he had to admit that Draco was right about that part at least - Scorpius had gone one step further; too far... Although he was hardly the first teenager in the world to get rushed to hospital with alcohol poisoning... "I've never tried to break our relationship..." he said, instead of saying any of that, "And I know Ella wasn't either..." Damien, he wasn't so sure of. He knew that his brother hadn't started out wanting to break things, but Scorpius really didn't know what Damien was thinking these days.

He didn't want to hear a defence of his grandfather, and rolled his eyes at his father's words, then winced because the action still sent a lance of pain through his head. "I don't care whether he loves me or not," he said, without any aggression, just with simple truth, "I don't care what he thinks of me." What he couldn't say, though, was how differently he felt about Draco himself, because even after everything, he did still care what his father thought, whatever he pretended to himself. He was silent as his father claimed to have noticed his drinking. How could he possibly try to tell Draco that however much his kids 'acted up', that his anger was preferable to his indifference? It was something Scorpius had hardly even thought for himself, though he knew in that moment that it was true, and he couldn't vocalise it... Of course, that didn't stop the anger flickering inside him again as his father started handing orders out as if... as if he'd earned the right to do that. It was as much as he could do to stop himself saying something to that effect, and indeed, he almost did, but Draco's final words brought him up short. He had to try - if his father was prepared to do that, he had to be too... "Okay.." he said with a great effort at last, "Deal." He wasn't sure how well this was going to work - were either of them capable of making the effort that would be required here? And it was all very well saying he needed to start acting like an adult, but sometimes, at times like this, he didn't feel like one. But at least, for the first time, it felt like his father had come half way to meet him. The trouble was that there was still so much between them; things like his choice of girlfriend, which still loomed as an obvious issue. Was his father really still that prejudiced, after everything, he wondered. Could he really not accept Roxanne the way her family had accepted (albeit grudgingly in some cases) Scorpius.

He paused for a moment at his father's revelation, processing that information. "You mean... she wrote to you again, after that time last year?" he clarified, "No, I didn't know that... What about?" What could she have possibly wanted to say, he wondered uneasily. He knew only too well Roxie's impulsive side, that acted before thinking. Last year, she had been trying to make friends, to bridge the gap, and had been rudely repulsed. He hadn't thought she'd try again... but what might she have said on a sudden impulse...? And why would his father bring it up now?

[Draco Malfoy]

Draco was mildly surprised when Scorpius claimed that he had never tried to break their relationship - he'd always assumed, or at least for the past couple of years, that Scorpius had wanted to sever all of his ties to his family. Or at least, to his parents and his grandparents. "Well. It seemed like it," Draco said stiffly, unsure of how to elaborate. "The...moving out. And all of the other things..." confused, Draco trailed off, never quite sure what his children wanted; did they want to refuse him entirely, as they often seemed to want, or did they want to re-establish their relationship with him, the sort that they'd had when they were younger? It was true, though, that Ella had never seemed to want to break their relationship - Ella had always seemed to be the one desperately trying to patch things together. Overcome with shame suddenly, Draco remembered Ella's letters the past few years, her suggestions of spending time together - of dinners and ballets and holidays, all of which he had promised they would do and never got to, using work or headaches or Ella's well-being as an excuse.

"He does love you, though," Draco said, quietly, knowing perfectly well that Scorpius probably didn't care, but wanting him to understand that his grandfather did love him - at least, if Lucius Malfoy didn't love Scorpius, then Draco sorely doubted that Lucius Malfoy loved his own son, which was something he did not want to consider in the slightest and had never even bothered considering when he was younger, taking the love and protection of his family for granted, the wealth and the class and the expensive things. "He loves you - all of you - and...he takes care of us. The entire family," Draco said rigidly. Lucius Malfoy did protect his family, after all - didn't he? He probably used the worst possible methods, but they were his version of protection - it wasn't simply malice or cruelty - perhaps not an excuse, Draco admitted to himself, but still.

There was another long pause, a hesitation, and Draco opened and closed his mouth twice before he managed to speak up - when he did so, his voice nor his face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, but his fists clenched nervously, saying, "And I'd like to - offer - I'd like to withdraw -" he broke off again, making an impatient noise in the back of his throat, averting his eyes from his son before continuing, "I'd like to take back what I said about you not being welcome back in the Manor, Scorpius. You...your room...you can always come back. Even for a night." This was a terrible blow to Draco's pride, but also a serious relief, because he'd panicked after he'd banned Scorpius from the Manor, and it had weighed down on his conscience for ages afterwards.

So Scorpius hadn't known about his girlfriend's letter. Draco couldn't decide how he felt about that, but decided that ultimately he was glad. He'd been furious about the letter and had wondered at the back of his mind whether Scorpius had put her up to it - a distinctly unfair thought, but one he could not help but think. "You, of course," Draco said shortly. "I destroyed the letter afterwards, of course," (after he had read it about fifty times) " - so I'm afraid I can't show it to you, but it was..." his lip curled. "Infuriating."

[Scorpius Malfoy]

"What other things?" Scorpius asked, genuinely not sure what his father was talking about. Sure, they'd had arguments, but most of those arguments (at least recently) had been about him moving out. "And I told you," he said, as he had said to Ella, "I told you I didn't want that, but it seems like none of you believed me..." There was a hint of bitterness to his tone, because it occurred to him that a lot of grief for all parties could have been saved if everyone hadn't been so determined to ignore what he was telling them and interpret his actions their own way instead...

He said nothing at all as Draco continued to talk about Lucius Malfoy. He didn't want to talk - or think - about his grandfather, because it made him want to hit something, which only brought it home to him again that he couldn't hit anything to save his life at the moment. As with most things that hurt him or made him angry, though, he had simply closed down all emotions to do with his grandfather, apart from the simple one of hatred. He knew that his father was wrong - it Lucius Malfoy loved them, it was some twisted love that only served his own ends, and which Scorpius didn't want, and as for his 'protection', that was ridiculous. Couldn't his father hear how pathetic it sounded that he - a grown man with teenage children - still relied on his father for protection?. However, he knew that saying this was pointless, and he had no strength to argue anyway, so he said nothing, hoping that his silence would speak for him.

He was glad that he hadn't started an argument when he heard his father's next words. True, there wasn't much emotion in Draco's voice, but that didn't matter - Scorpius knew how much it must cost him to say that sort of thing out loud, because it would have cost Scorpius the same amount, and he felt his heart twist painfully, a lump forming in his throat. He hadn't realised until afterwards (and perhaps not fully until now) how much it had hurt, and how lost and adrift it had made him feel, to be unwelcome at the place that had always been his home. Of course, his grandmother had already told him he could come back if he liked, but he knew he never would have done unless his father had said it too. He didn't know what to say, and it was slightly difficult to speak anyway, so he settled for a nod and a quiet, "Thanks. I - well, thanks," and hoped that his father also understood that some things are difficult to say.

Despite himself, though, he felt his lips twitch slightly at his father's description of Roxie's letter - he was still slightly anxious, as he didn't know what had actually been said, but at the same time, there was something horrifyingly amusing about it, though that could have been because his emotions were still all over the place. "I bet it was," he agreed dryly, thinking of Roxie's way with words, "When was this? And why are you suddenly telling me about it? Was it about me?" He assumed it must have been, as he couldn't imagine what else she'd write to his father about, but he was still curious...