Yours Uneasily
April 2006
This letter is for Hermione’s eyes only. If any of you other idiots read it, then I will break out of this place to hunt you down. Ok, so I won’t actually do that with eleven months left to go, but the sentiment remains. Please don’t read it. I’m asking nicely.
Firstly, I hope everything went ok in Australia. I don’t know if you read my last letter, so I’ll repeat what I said. I am truly so sorry for your loss, Hermione. I hear you took Theo and George surfing? Between how lanky that particular Weasley is and Theo’s complete lack of control of his limbs, I imagine it wasn’t too successful. Theo says you were great at it, though. No surprises there. Is there anything you’re not good at? I know brooms aren’t your friend and you never liked divination, but those aren’t really day to day activities.
Again, I don’t know if you saw the letter Theo, George, and Harry (will never feel normal to call him that) sent me, but Pans had Scorp write to me at the end. This might sound stupid, but Circe, Hermione, I have a son. Before now, he’s been this foreign concept, just an idea and a name. I was there for nearly five months, and then I held him at my father’s funeral, that’s all I know of him. I don’t know the person with thoughts and feelings and the ability to write. Potter (sorry, it has to be Potter for now) told me about quidditch. I know you don’t necessarily approve, but I need to be honest and get this out. If that’s throwing the others under the bus, then I do apologise. Knowing that my son can fly so well, and is besting Potter’s eldest, makes me so inexplicably proud, and so horrendously homesick. I’m jealous of something I’ve never seen, a person I don’t know. I’m terrified that I’m going to fuck this all up when I’m back. You’ve built a life around my son, people that only know me as a bigoted bastard know my son better than I do. What if there isn’t a place for me? That sounds pathetic. It’s what I’m thinking though. Gods, Hermione, what if I fuck this up? Do I even have the capacity to be a good father? My own wasn’t the best example, and Scorp has known only the best parents in his life so far in seeing the Potters and Blaise and Daph. Even Molly and Arthur Weasley. That isn’t a slight on my mother, but you know what I’m trying to say. Or at least, I hope you do. I’m rambling. Apologies. Potter dismantled the wards you placed on the shed. There, I’ve distracted you from my pitiful spiral into self-loathing.
It just occurred to me that I don’t really know what any of you look like anymore. Salazar knows I’m a total mess right now. Has time been kinder to you? I imagine it probably has.
I’ve missed hearing from you, but please don’t worry if you’re still sorting things out for your parents. Oddly enough, I quite liked hearing from Potter. Don’t tell him that.
If you could tell Theo that I did as he asked, even if it felt ridiculous.
Yours in anticipation of a lengthy reply,
Draco
***
May 2006
Draco,
Hello again. Can you believe I haven’t written to you since January? That’s terrible of me, I’m so sorry. I hope the letters from the others were sufficient enough in the meantime. Ginny was terribly pleased with herself, so I’m sorry if she was awful. She won’t tell me what she said, but there’s mischief in those eyes. Same with George, actually. Gods, why did I trust these people?
I did take Theo and George surfing, and neither were good at it. Theo hasn’t stopped going on about going back to Australia, so maybe I’ll get to teach you one day. You cannot possibly be as bad as they were, there’s just no way. If it spurs you on, Harry and I went once and he was half decent, so you’d have a competition on your hands. I do find it quite strange that he’s impatient for you to come home so that he can exchange taunts with you about various things, mostly the boys. Is that a thing among men? Or just dads?
I’ve never told you about my parents. That was deliberate, because I knew you’d feel responsible for it. Before I left to hunt for the horcruxes, I obliviated them. I removed all memories of myself from them both, gave them new identities, and sent them to live in Australia. They were there for nearly two years, until I was finally able to restore what I took. They never forgave me. I think they understood that it had been necessary to keep them safe, as I knew they’d be targeted and I couldn’t just leave them unprotected, but it shattered our relationship completely. We were never that close anyway, if I’m honest. We never spoke about magic. They obviously knew I was a witch, but they hated talking about it. My mother especially hated it, I caught her praying for me to ‘go back to normal’ once. They decided to stay in Australia, and never answered any of my letters. I saw my father once more before he died, and my mother only three or four times. My own parents were scared of me, Draco. They were scared of the unknown, scared of the fact that I had the power to hurt them like I did, and scared of the fact that I actually went through with it. I suppose that’s why I’ve always worked so hard, I was trying to make them proud. In the end, that was unattainable, but I know that I tried, so that has to be enough, I suppose.
All of this serves as proof, however, that you will be such a good dad. The fact that you’re scared shows that you care about Scorp, and that’s all you can do. You’re right in saying you don’t know him, but you will. There is so much time, Draco. You’ve missed things, and there’s nothing either of us can do about that, but you have so much time to spend with him. I’m not sure there is such a thing as the perfect parent, but in order to get close, you just have to be there for them. Harry worries all the time that he’s a bad father because Albus is so different from James and Lily and he doesn’t know how to talk to him. Molly told me the other day that she’s worried Ron turned out to be a dick because she neglected him somehow. So many of us had parents that let us down. Theo, Blaise, Pansy, me, you. Regardless, James, Albus, Lily, Scorpius, and Luca will never be let down, not by anyone. Gods, those kids are so loved, Draco. History will not repeat itself, none of us are going to let it.
I know Harry dismantled my wards, I had a warning set up if they were tampered with. I haven’t said anything though. They didn’t realise I was home, and I watched our friends through the kitchen window and they were so happy. That’s what a family is supposed to look like, I think. I don’t know better than anyone else, even if every instinct is telling me to burn their brooms. I guess that’s something for me to work on, especially if Scorp and James continue to be as good as they are.
I’m looking back over other letters I’ve had from you to try and make up for being the world’s most neglectful pen pal by continuing the conversation.
You seriously think I’d inflate Narcissa’s ego like that? The woman is already the epitome of grace, she doesn’t need to be an accomplished artist as well.
Pansy and Neville don’t make any sense on paper particularly, but when you see them together, they just fit somehow. I suppose you’re right, it does have to be seen to be believed. I’ve sometimes wondered if it’s his attention to detail. With his garden, he can rattle off whatever specific conditions each plant needs to thrive, and it’s that same skill that’s turned him into a Pansy Parkinson expert. I’m not sure she’s had someone care so completely about her like that before. She deserves it.
Theo won’t tell me what he asked in the January letter and it’s driving me insane. Ginny knows but she won’t tell me either. How on earth did she work it out? What clues could she possibly have that I don’t? I’ve written you over fifty letters now, she’s written you one. It makes no sense.
I’ve been going back and forth on whether to ask this next question or not. Nearly four months of two words rattling around in my brain, and I think I’m going to have to ask, consequences be damned. You asked me if I’d seen your first wedding in the Prophet. I did, of course, but that isn’t what I’m getting at. You said ‘first wedding’. There, I’ve asked. No going back now.
Even if it’s quite early to say so, happy birthday Draco.
Yours uneasily,
Hermione