Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Lifetime Decisions	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 11408 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make any profit from it. J.K. Rowling owns it

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Author's note: And we finally have reached the ending for this fic! To be honest, I didn't think I would ever manage to finish this story. Also I had a really bad week, but your reviews managed to cheer me up, so for that I thank you all!
Thanks to the following reviewers: AnonymousTigress; phoenix-rob; Nubia; nari-chan; SlythindorMalfoy; djaddict; Talliane; Hesti
I'm really astonished at the amount of reviews the previous chapter gathered, but I suspect it had something to do with the ending LOL
PAY ATTENTION TO THE WARNINGS
Warnings: set a couple of years in the future; Draco's pov; flashbacks; character death; slightly Darkish Draco
I hope you'll like the last chapter!

Chapter 8: Epilogue
Mister Malfoy
As per your request, we – the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – write to you, because we have news relating to your ex-spouse, Astoria Greengrass.
We are sorry to inform you that on Thursday, the twenty-second of October, Miss Astoria Greengrass (inmate number 54786), during yet another attempt to escape her prison cell, ended up in a scuffle with one of our remaining Dementors. This scuffle resulted in the …
Slowly the letter was lowered and folded again, before it was placed in the middle drawer of the desk. The recipient of it, a blond man of twenty-seven years old, leant back in his chair and stared contemplatively at the oak desk.
When Draco woke up this morning, he certainly hadn't expected to receive news of this magnitude. He expected to feel at least a bit of remorse, maybe even a hint of sadness, but he merely felt at ease, as if a huge weight had been taken off his shoulders.
Astoria had been serving a life long sentence without any chance of parole in Azkaban for nearly five years now. During her stay there she had tried at least three times to escape, but her attempts had always been thwarted just in time. In the beginning she had been placed on the second level of the prison, that being the one for moderately dangerous criminals. After her first two attempts to escape, they had transferred her to the highest level which had constant high level security in the form of three Aurors and four Dementors.
That had been nearly two years ago and he hadn't received any news about her – until now. Her fourth attempt to escape had resulted in her colliding with a Dementor patrolling the corridor at that moment and before any of the Aurors had been able to stop the creature, it had sucked her soul out of her body.
Astoria had died at twenty-five years old; she was one of the youngest inmates to die in the history of Azkaban.
Releasing his breath slowly, he picked up his cup of tea and sipped from the hot beverage; his mind bringing up the first and last time he had visited his ex-wife in Azkaban.
The island on which Azkaban had been built was as dreary as ever, Draco noted from his spot in the boat. The sky was grey, overcast and looked like it was trying to decide whether it should start raining or not. Even the water was dark and murky and seemingly completely devoid of life. The presence of the Dementors – even though very few remained now after the war – seemed to have both an effect on humans and on nature.
No wonder most inmates became insane after years in this remote, dark place.
Draco shuddered and tightened his grip on his wand, which was hidden in his sleeve. Grey eyes slid from the murky water to the grey building dooming up in front of him as the fog parted for the boat.
He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted by the oppressive atmosphere; he had one goal today and he needed to accomplish that one without hesitation.
Not, he thought darkly, that I will hesitate for even one second.
The boat gently bumped against the sandy ground and the guard nodded to him silently. Accepting that as his cue to leave the boat, he stepped down on the sand; his boots sinking down slightly. Somewhere behind him, the faint sound of a dog howling could be heard.
An Auror – a sandy brown haired man with a gentle face – was already waiting for him when he reached the entrance of the imposing building.
"Draco Malfoy?" The Auror shook his hand briefly. "You're here to see Astoria Greengrass, correct?"
"Yes, that is correct," Draco replied calmly, inclining his head once.
"Please follow me. Her cell is on the second level," the Auror informed him and pressed his hand right in the middle of the heavy door. A ward which was set up so that it would only allow people keyed into it – allowing one other person to accompany them – flashed and chirped lowly once before it recognised the Auror and the door swung open.
Before they completely entered the building, the man turned towards him and said earnestly, "Even though the Dementors – only a few – are confined to the highest level, please keep pleasant thoughts in your mind to counteract their presence."
Draco nodded stiffly and followed the broad shouldered man into the main hall. He clung to the memory of the day his son was born as he and the Auror made their way through the corridors. Even though there were several levels between the Dementors and them, coldness, carrying with it fear and despair, still filled the corridors, seeping through the tiniest cracks.
An elevator – creaking slightly due to its age – brought them to the second level, bypassing several cells in which inmates were either sleeping, complaining or simply staring endlessly.
Suppressing the urge to shiver, Draco stepped out of the elevator when it stopped; the doors opening to reveal a long, dark corridor.
They were on the second level: where moderately dangerous criminals were locked behind bars.
The place were his now ex-wife resided for the rest of her life.
"She is in cell 56. You have twenty minutes, Mister Malfoy," the Auror warned him and disappeared into a tiny office.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly made his way through the dark corridor, not even flinching when some inmates tried to grab his robes. Ignoring their outraged cries and jeering taunts, he finally halted in front of cell 56. The torch mounted on the wall next to it flared to life, providing him with some light.
Blue eyes revealed themselves in a dark corner of the small cell and stared at him balefully.
"Good afternoon, Astoria," Draco said coolly.
Slowly she rose up and patted over to the bars; her long fingers – once perfectly manicured, now bruised and her nails ragged and clearly bitten off – curled around the iron bars.
"Come to gloat?" she sneered; her long, blonde hair hung lifelessly around her face.
"I came to inform you that my lawyer finished the divorce procedure," he informed her blandly, briefly brandishing the papers with the undeniable proof printed on them. "Even more, he managed to push through for a complete annulment, making it so that it appears as if we have never been married in the first place."
She bared her teeth; her eyes flashing up in anger. "I bet you're satisfied now. Now you can fuck that whore of yours as much as you want. Oh wait." A bitter smile played around her lips. "I had forgotten that you didn't need to be divorced to fuck that slut."
His arm shot out through the bars before she realised it and he gripped her throat tightly, squeezing into it warningly.
"Don't ever call him a whore or a slut again," he warned her softly and put more pressure on her throat until she was gasping; her hands scrabbling along his arms. When it looked like she would pass out, he abruptly released her, letting her drop on the filthy floor.
Rubbing a hand over her bruised throat, she glared at him hatefully. "I should have attacked him sooner. He's nothing but a disgrace as a wizard and an abomination," she spat, coughing as her lungs worked to get air inside of her again.
He slowly shook his head. "The only reason why I didn't kill you back then is because I know Harry wouldn't have wanted that," he told her, adjusting his sleeves.
"Because he's such a perfect saint!" She laughed bitterly and rose up again on unsteady legs.
"I didn't come here to waste my time arguing with you," Draco sighed and let his wand drop from his sleeve into his hand.
Instantly her gaze was fixated on his wand and for the first time since they started talking, a hint of fear slumbered in her look. "How did you get your wand past the guards? They put it away for the entire visit."
"Normally that's protocol, yes," he agreed and smirked darkly. "But this particular Auror was quite happy to pretend he hasn't seen my wand. It's just your lucky day, Astoria, that the guard on duty today is eternally grateful for what Harry did for him. Two years ago, Harry saved the life of that man's wife and he has not forgotten that fact at all. As a way of thanking him, he has conveniently forgotten to remove my wand from my possession. Funny, how things can turn out, huh?"
"What are you planning to do?" she whispered and this time the fear was audible in her voice.
For the first time in his life, Draco relished the feeling of instilling fear in someone. His ex-wife deserved worse for what she had done, but this would have to suffice.
"Death would be way too easy for you, I see that now," he murmured and raised his wand. "That's why I have a special curse picked out for you. Tristia Somnia Aeternum."
A soft purple pulsing light left his wand and wrapped itself instantly around Astoria's head, sinking into her brain, hooking its claws into her.
From now on, Astoria would suffer from random bouts of sleep in which she was subjected to terrifying nightmares. There would be nights where she would be able to go to sleep without a problem, but other nights would have her quaking in fear and pleading for the morning to arrive to deliver her from her nightmares.
The dreary atmosphere of the prison would be a nasty aid for the curse.
Draco thought it was a fitting punishment for her, considering the nightmare she had put his family through.
Still keeping the memory of the day Scorpius was born pictured in his mind, he turned around and went back to the elevator, serenely ignoring her cries of outrage and fear as she had recognised what the curse would do to her.
This was the first and last time he would see her.
Three months after his visit, she had made a first attempt to escape, but had been apprehended before she could even reach the elevator. All her escape attempts had been kept from his family; he saw no need to instil worry in them as her attempts had never been successful. He did have to admit that he himself had fretted every time an owl of the Ministry appeared in front of his window. He had made an oath to himself that if she ever did manage to escape, he would get rid of her immediately if she showed up near his family.
One time going through that paralyzing fear had been enough and to this day he wondered whether he shouldn't have taken more extreme measures to punish his ex-wife. It wasn't as if her family would have retaliated against him, should his revenge have been more extreme. Blaise, who had married Daphne Greengrass two years ago, had informed him during one of their meetings that the Greengrass family had disowned Astoria as soon as news had spread of what she had done. They had been too ashamed and revolted and had promptly cut all ties with her.
In the end Astoria had died all alone, thanks to her own doing.
Shaking his head wearily, he drained the last bit of chamomile tea in his cup and stood up, casting an idle glance out of the window. Outside the branches of the three thick trees planted at the edge of the property were swaying in the wind and if he concentrated he thought he could faintly hear the groaning of the oaks as they were subjected to the harsh gusts of wind. The sun had momentarily shown up this morning, but had to quickly lose its battle with the dark, grey clouds and by now rain was streaming down the sky, battering the ground and turning it into mud.
Autumn had arrived in the country and it was making its presence known.
A whimsical smile played around his lips as he mused about his plans for the thirty-first of October. If the weather continued to behave like today, it would make visiting the graveyard quite problematic.
Problematic, but not impossible. He wouldn't let his plans be derailed or put on hold simply because of harsh autumn weather.
A soft knock on the door of his home office made him turn his head, his hand casually resting around his empty cup; feeling the faint warmth of the tea lingering against his skin. "Yes?" he called out calmly.
The door slightly creaked as it opened and a dark blond head popped out from the gap. Deep green eyes gazed at him. "Eat, papa," four year old Scorpius announced softly.
"Is it already dinner time?" Draco mused and turned around completely.
Scorpius nodded and some strands of his golden blond hair – darker than Draco's – fell across his cheek. "Clock says five, papa. That's this many." He held up five chubby fingers proudly, before a pout adorned his face. "Teddy home. Teddy not eat with me."
"I'm sure he'll have dinner with us another time," Draco soothed his son and crossed the room to him, his cup loosely held in his hand.
Despite being left in the dark for nearly thirteen months, Teddy had quickly taken to Scorpius once he was introduced to him when the baby had been three months old. Teddy had made no problems about it, hadn't thrown a fit, but merely accepted the baby as his new cousin. He had started questioning how Scorpius had been born, but before either Draco or Andromeda could explain, he had already been distracted by Scorpius who had giggled; effectively drawing his cousin's attention towards him and making him forget about his questions entirely.
"Promise?" Scorpius peered at him hopefully.
"Promise," Draco reassured him and quickly stroked his hair back. While he had received the blond gene from Draco's side of the family, the boy clearly took after his other father when it concerned the messiness of his hair.
"Good," Scorpius replied satisfied and grinned widely. "I like Teddy."
"I know," Draco chuckled and then raised an eyebrow. "Did you wash your hands?"
"Yes …" the little boy replied slowly and was quick to put his hands behind his back in an attempt to hide them from his father. A look of guilt quickly crossed his face.
"Really?" Draco drawled; hiding his amusement. "Then you don't mind showing me your hands, right, Scorpius?"
"But papa," Scorpius whined and pouted; clearly having hoped to get away with not washing his hands before dinner.
"Go on, now. Go wash your hands," Draco said and let a hint of sternness leak through his voice.
While the boy occasionally dared to push past his boundaries, trying to figure out how far he could go before his father became angry, this time he seemed to realise that he was fighting a lost battle and his pout grew, but he obediently turned around and pitter-pattered to the bathroom, located at the end of the corridor.
Draco paused in the middle of his doorway and after a short bout of contemplation, he huffed impatiently and turned around once more, walking back to his desk. Discarding his mug on his desk temporarily, he removed the Lock charms of the middle drawer and opened it, retrieving the small pile of Ministry letters concerning Astoria's movements.
He held it up and stared at the bundled letters; they formed a part of his past which had had a great part in shaping him into who he was now. They symbolised both hope and hatred; both emotions entwined in only a couple of letters.
Grey eyes widened horrified as he saw Astoria raising her wand; all her fury aimed at the shocked, dark haired man standing at the foot of the staircase.
"Astoria, don't you …!" He had already whipped out his wand and the Disarming charm was at the tip of his tongue, but it was too late.
Green light – of that one particular horrifying colour that he had hoped never to see again in his life – filled his vision as it sped towards its frozen target, intending to do what the darkest wizard of their generation hadn't been able to do.
Intending to rip away the one he loved the most and had been hoping to share his life with. The one person in the world who held his heart in his hands.
In just a couple of seconds his whole world was uprooted, destroyed.
The letters wrinkled heavily in his clenched hands and he blinked, ripping himself out of that awful memory. With a lightly trembling hand, he raised his wand and with one whispered spell, the letters went up in flames; the fire eagerly eating away at the parchment until nothing but grey ash remained.
This was it then. He could finally close off that part of his life forever. There would be no more Ministry letters warning him of an escape attempt of his ex-wife. He would no longer have to live with the dread that one day Astoria might succeed in escaping and track him down to finish her job. After that faithful day she hadn't made a secret of the fact that she utterly despised Scorpius because of whom had birthed him.
"Papa?" Scorpius' high, innocent voice tore him free from his dark musings and he briefly shook his head.
Taking care to vanish the grey dust and close the drawer again, he faced his son with a faint smile as calmness completely filled him.
"Let's go, Scorpius, before dinner becomes cold," he murmured and the little boy beamed, chattering brightly about what he had done with Teddy today while they made their way down the wooden staircase.
It wasn't as grand as the marble staircase back in Malfoy Manor, but Draco wouldn't change it for the world. Not after what he had been through.
The smell of roasted pork covered with various spices drifted towards him when he reached the corridor leading to the kitchen and the scent was positively mouth-watering.
Scorpius hurried into the kitchen and soon the scraping of a chair being hastily pulled back rang through the house.
"Careful, Scorpius, before you hurt yourself!"
Draco entered the room and his gaze fell on the blond boy leaning forwards on the table with his elbows, staring excitedly at the roasted pork, already cut into several slices, steaming in front of him.
"I want that part!" he stated determined and pointed at a particular slice at one of the ends.
"What do we say?" Draco raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
Scorpius had the grace to blush a bit and bent his head bashfully. "That part, please," he corrected himself and lowered his hand.
A gentle laugh rang through the large kitchen. "That's fine, darling. If you want that part, you'll get that one." A slender hand selected the slice and placed it on the boy's plate, which was already filled with some potatoes and some mashed carrots.
"Thank you, daddy," Scorpius muttered and eagerly started cutting into the meat, discarding his vegetables for the time being. He would probably need to be coaxed again to eat his vegetables.
Grey eyes softened as they fell upon the dark haired man bustling around the kitchen, taking a bottle of water and one containing apple juice out of the refrigerator.
The bottles created a soft 'thunk' sound as they were placed on the wooden table and emerald green eyes looked at him questioningly.
"Done with work for today?" Harry asked curiously and the light caught the golden ring on his ring finger of his left hand, making it sparkle for a couple of seconds.
Draco approached him and placed a hand briefly in his neck, kissing him softly on his mouth. "Yes, at least for today. I only had to deal with a couple of letters," he grunted and released the dark haired man so that they both could take place at the table and start their own dinner.
It was a miracle Harry was even alive today. Any other person would have been dead if the Killing curse had been cast on them, but luck or faith or some kind of higher being had been on Harry's side that particular day, saving his life.
Draco rushed forwards, even though he knew there was nothing he could do to stop the Killing curse and his mouth fell open as his eyes caught terrified, green ones.
The curse struck, enveloping Harry, but instead of sinking into his body, stealing his life, the curse suddenly rebounded and hit the ceiling, causing several parts of the ceiling to fall down on the floor. Right before he could be buried underneath the ceiling parts, Harry dived out of the way and Scorpius' renewed crying rang loudly through the air; Astoria's enraged scream filling the air at the same time before Draco managed to shut her up.
The blond had had enough presence of mind to take Astoria's wand away after he had bound and silenced her. Then he had quickly made his way to Harry, who by then was already trying to soothe a hysterical Scorpius as if he hadn't just managed to survive the Killing curse again.
Harry himself had had no idea how he had done it as he hadn't consciously used his wand to defend himself. After pouring both his and Draco's memories into a Pensive, Severus had come up with the theory that Harry's own magic had created a Mirror charm just in time, thereby reflecting the curse to the ceiling before it could struck him. Accidental magic wasn't unheard of – certainly not in children when their magical core started to develop fully – but while this particular magic was capable of saving someone's life, by delivering a magical blow to their assailant for example, never once had someone's magic successfully created a defence against the Killing curse.
Once again Harry had beaten the odds.
Draco was just grateful for whatever had managed to save Harry's life. Accidental magic, plain luck, Lady Faith, some higher being … It didn't matter to him; all that mattered was that he hadn't lost his lover to his deranged ex-wife.
And now that she was gone out of their lives for good, he felt that he could finally breathe properly again.

A last check-up was done on his sleeping son: tucking the sheets back around his body to prevent him from becoming cold, putting his stuffed toy back into his bed and a soft kiss was pressed on his forehead. A softly glowing ball of magic in the right corner of the room made certain that Scorpius wouldn't wake up in complete darkness. Like most children of his age he wasn't fond of the dark. The door of his bedroom was left ajar, in case he woke up and needed one of them. They would hear him calling out immediately if such was the case.
The light in the bathroom was turned off and a last look through ensured the blond that all the windows and the doors were locked. They lived in a peaceful village and could defend themselves if it was necessary, but he didn't want to take any changes. He wouldn't forgive himself if harm befell on his family.
Harry was already lying in bed when he entered their bedroom. His eyes glowed luminously like that of a cat in the light of the candle.
"Do you have something on your mind?" Harry inquired as Draco changed into his sleepwear.
"No, why?" Draco frowned and raised the blankets, so that he could step into the bed.
Harry shrugged, still looking at him intently. "You looked occupied during dinner," he replied softly.
Draco stretched out his hand and caressed Harry's cheek. "Just thinking how lucky I am to still have you with me," he murmured and green eyes softened in comprehension.
A kiss was pressed into his palm. "That's part of our past now. It's over. She won't ever hurt us again," Harry said determined.
Harry will never know how right he is about that, Draco thought grimly. "That's true," he muttered and kissed the dark haired man before he doused the candle with his wand and they shuffled underneath the blankets until they ended up with Harry's leg thrown over his thigh and his head resting on Draco's shoulder.
"Tomorrow I have my check-up," Harry murmured against his collarbone and he felt lips brushing a kiss against his skin.
"I can't wait," Draco smiled and his hand caressed the gentle swell of Harry's stomach, which had been housing their unborn daughter for six months now. Next year they would be welcoming their second child.
"I love you," Harry whispered in the dark.
"I love you too."
Choosing Harry as his surrogate would – despite the problems it had brought with it – remain one of the best decisions of his life. The other decision had been to ask this beautiful, amazing man to become his husband. He had made some regretful decisions in his life, but these were some of the decisions he would never regret.
All was well now.

AN2: This is officially the end of this story. Please let me know for the last time what you thought of this chapter; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all in my future stories!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Lifetime Decisions