Family secrets
Rose.
With hair as fiery as her namesake.
With wild turns and tight coils spiraling out every direction. Just like her mother.
It shines like copper under the sun and a few more freckles have bloomed from their short time in southern France.
Draco is desperate to drink in every detail knowing she'll be transformed by the passing of time when he sees her next. Everyday she looks more like Hermione and less like her father , and he fears next time they see each other, it will be her face looking out from beyond the veil.
Pleading with him, begging to move forward and let go, neither of which he seems to be able to do.
He has Scorpius too of course, but that's his own visage looking back at him,his own petulance and ill temper to deal with, as if karma had been keeping a score that was now being settled.
Rose crinkles the paper bags,now empty of trinkets from Weasley Wizarding Wheezes brought along to make friends at family day before term starts. A peace offering from her uncle who was still well received.
He glances next to him in the carriage, the mode of transportation around the mountain Beauxbatons is perched on. Scorpius is out cold, mouth hung open in silent snores, exhausted from being doted on by gaggle of older female students all day. The four year old had charmed his way into their good graces with his rudimentary French and English hybrid language as was promptly whisked away for more lessons in the former.
Rose was less adept at the language but personable enough to make friends despite it. Now as he turns to her, he can see the little "v" between her brows that meant she was deep in thought.
"We'll stay in Toulouse, at least for your first term. If you need to come home -"
"It's not home." She spits vehemently. "Don't call it that. It's not home without Mum.'
"I know, love." He plants a kiss on top of her curls.
"And Scorpius won't even get to know. He'll never know! All because of him! It's all his fault, Draco! He killed her out of jealousy."
"It was an accident."
Her cinnamon colored eyes narrowed for a second. "I don't believe that for a second and neither do you. And he gets to keep living like nothing ever happened because he's some big war hero."
The words strike him as thoughts that an 11 years old should not have. But they exist anyway. There's no putting spilled potion back in the bottle.
"I'm going to tell you something, something you must not tell anyone, not even your brother." She affixes him with that searing gaze again. Leaning down he tucks a wild curl behind her ear and whispers -
"I'm having people take care of it."
He feels her smile before he sees it, turning up the corner of her mouth