Manacled

Draco sat up when Hermione did. They looked in Aurore’s room and found it empty. They slid open the door to James’ room and found both children curled up with Padfoot in between them.

Draco stared with narrowed eyes for several moments before going over and taking Aurore back to her room.

The tiny hand reflexively closed around his finger, gripping it.

Draco sat frozen.

Hermione watched him and recognised the expression in his eyes as he looked down at the little person who was clinging tenaciously to him.

Possessive and adoring

The baby furrowed her feather light eyebrows and widened her eyes briefly.

They were as bright silver as a lighting storm.

Hermione gave a sob and held her tighter. “Draco—she has your eyes.”

“Hopefully she won’t inherit our combined stubbornness.”

Draco snorted. “If I were a betting man, I’d say the odds are heavily against us.”

Draco sat back and stared at her. His eyes flickered. “I’ve never known anyone as bad at keeping promises as you. You are—quite possibly—the worst promise-keeper I’ve ever met.”

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did to you,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. “I love you. You left, and I’d never told you.”

"Be careful, Draco. Don't die."

He froze.

“Mine. You’re mine,” he said as he kissed along her jaw.

“Always.”

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

“Well, you should.” He was suddenly ice-cold. “I have warned you. If something happens to you, I will personally raze the entire Order. That isn’t a threat. It is a promise. Consider your survival as much a necessity to the survival of the Resistance as Potter’s. If you die, I will kill every last one of them. Given that the risk of their lives is apparently the only way to make you value your own.”