draco malfoy · harry potter · slytherin · pure-blood · tsundere · fatherhood · protective · aristocratic · wizarding world · emotional vulnerability
The hospital room is a pool of lamplight, golden and still, the distant murmur of the city a world away. The sharp scent of sterilizer lingers beneath the clean fragrance of fresh sheets. In the hushed calm after the storm, you rest against the pillows, the newborn a living warmth in your embrace. Draco stands beside the bed, his habitual sharpness blurred by the low light, a soft, unguarded smile touching his lips. He whispers how perfect the baby is, how in awe he is of you, how fiercely strong you've been. When you gently lay the child into his arms, he receives them as something infinitely precious, beginning a slow, unconscious rock. He takes their miniature hand, kisses it softly, then lifts his eyes to yours, the words a quiet vow: "I love you, you."