Dramione Diaries | Fluffy Oneshots

19 | blood prejudice

Mione,

The silver-eyed Slytherin Prince glanced down at the young toddler, nearly identical to him if it wasn't for his curly hair and freckles that dotted his face, who was leaning on Draco's bent knees where he sat on the maroon sofa.

He asked me that question.

"How come you and mummy don't like each other?"

Draco nearly choked as he cocked his head at the sudden question, assessing the boy inquisitively as he wondered where this had came from. "We love each other, Scorp."

"Yah but- but mummy said you didn't like her in schwool," he pouted, a sad look to his watery eyes at the devastating fact that his dad was rude to his mum before. Draco's lips pulled to a lopsided smiled at his cute expression, how he'd known about the history of his parents' in Hogwarts was beyond him but he ruffled his little boy's hair nonetheless.

Turns out you had told him the story about us the other night. And now he turned to me to explain. Why'd you make yourself the victim here? You hated me just as much, Mione. Tsk tsk.

"Thats true. I was a prat," he answered simply, then added to at least make him seem less of a mean bully in his son's eyes, "She hated me too."

"Whyyyy?" He drawled curiously, "How come you love each other nowww?"

I knew this was eventually going to be asked. I just didn't think it would be today.

Draco and Hermione, prior to her pregnancy, absolutely wanted to avoid the experience Draco faced as a child where he was forced into the opinions his father enforced heavily on him. He'd often thought back and wonder why he looked up upon the man he called his father as a child, when all he'd done was strip him of friendships and relationships he could've had as he told him how purebloods were the only people deserving of any kind of respect.

His father had been so wrong, and he was around the people who he loved to prove it.

Draco forbade himself to act the same towards Scorpius, and rather, encouraged him to make his own decisions and choose who he wants to like or dislike base on morals regardless of blood. And if Draco did slip up as a father or husband for even just a second, he'd thankfully have Hermione to pull him back together again.

"Well, Scorp," he carefully said, debating on his choice of words that could possibly make the young toddler understand. Though he doubted it didn't matter, he was the spawn of the two brightest witch and wizard. He definitely was too smart for his own good even at his age. He continued, "Your mum is a muggleborn and I'm a pureblood. I thought she was filthy because of her blood, and I was an idiot to think that because she was born with muggles that I was so much more powerful than her."

Scorpius snickered behind his small palm, causing Draco to raise a brow at the boy. "She hits you all the time! And you don't do anything about it!" He squeaked out a laugh, "Powerful, my butt."

And so I told him. And the more I explained, the smaller the whole subject became. Blood really doesn't mean anything. Why did I made it such a big deal? After all, you do hit me whenever you felt like it and render me powerless as I'm wrapped around your pretty finger.

"Exactly," Draco smirked. "As for loving her, that happened after school. I was a tolerable idiot at that time, and somehow that won her over. Don't do what I did in school. Don't make the same mistake." Draco's eyes trailed to the next room and strayed onto a brown-haired woman purely focused on reading a book at their small dining table. "You'll miss out on a lot."

And then the little bugger asked for more information I couldn't give to him yet.

"What did you do to her in schwool?" The boy asked, still unsatisfied with his answer. Draco bit the bottom of his lip, unsure if he should even explain or not.

"A lot of mean things," he responded vaguely, not wanting to upset him without an answer but unable to find the right words to explain. His eyes still lingered on Hermione who he was sure was now listening onto their conversation by the way she kept fiddling distractedly with the corners of her pages. He bore a pleading stare at her, wishing for her to help him out of this and explain things for him.

"Like what?" Scorpius egged on, becoming frustrated at his father for avoiding the question.

"Erm well," he rubbed the arm where the dark scar of his past had faded, a habit he does when he was uncertain, "I—"

"Scorp, do you want to bake some cookies?" The sweet sounding voice of his savior sounded from the kitchen and Draco's tense shoulders easily relaxed. Hermione gave him a look of amusement that he shot down with a half-hearted scowl of his own. The little boy wasn't ready to be told the gritty details of his past yet, and he would rather tell him when he fully understood the concept of prejudice.

"Yaahh!" Scorpius shrieked happily, amusing Hermione further as he ran into the kitchen with all questions forgotten.

"Thanks," Draco murmured into her ear after he followed his son and walked up to Hermione, pressing his front against her back.

"Of course," she swiveled her head to smirk up at him, lightly punching his arm for good measure.

"Ouch, Mione!" he hissed dramatically, rubbing the uppermost part of his arm despite it not really hurting much, "I'm dying slowly because of you."

"Aren't we all?" She drawled, an influenced Malfoy smirk still etched on her face as she eyed their son pacing around and babbling on about what ingredients to put and where the supplies were.

Luckily you saved me. Oh whatever could I ever do without you?

As if I needed your help anyway, I'm a much better parent than you.

Kidding kidding, don't hurt me,

Draco Malfoy