It had been an exceptionally busy day. Draco collapsed onto one of the uncomfortable antique couches Mother decorated the guest house with and let his head fall back against the polished backrest. He couldn't even muster enough energy to care that he'd smacked his skull into hard wood.

Tiny feet that sounded entirely too energetic pattered into the room. Draco closed his eyes, hoping Scorpius would think he was asleep and go bother Father instead. It didn't work; Scorpius climbed up onto the couch then clambered into Draco's lap. "Hi, Dad!" he chirped.

Draco opened his eyes, gave a mildly annoyed look at the carved ceiling, then put on a happy face and looked down at his seven year old son. "Hey, Scorpius," he greeted. Although Draco was tired and would love nothing more than to fall into a bed somewhere and pass out, it was barely seven in the evening. He couldn't be getting old, could he? Maybe it was a parent thing—a constant need for sleep that would never come. "What are you up to?"

"Grandmother says it's getting too dark to play on my broom so she said to wash up for dinner." Scorpius bounced excitedly in Draco's lap, clearly expecting something. Draco played dumb; nothing annoyed Scorpius more than people refusing to understand what he thought was obvious. Draco found it endearing and loved to try to get a rise out of Scorpius.

"And how does that concern me?" Draco asked casually. He inspected his fingernails as if they were the most important thing in the world.

Scorpius let out a huff and bounced again. "Daaad," he whined. "You know I'm too short for the sinks Grandmother has!"

Draco just barely managed to hold back a snicker which would no doubt offend the delicate feelings of his only child. It was true, though—Mother had installed sinks several centimeters higher than average and Scorpius was on the shorter end of the height spectrum for seven year olds. "Alright, come on," Draco said. Scorpius climbed down and stood, impatiently waiting, while Draco stretched. He was only thirty three, for Merlin's sake—he felt like a man twice his age. Maybe he would go to sleep early tonight, if he could convince Scorpius to entertain himself without his dear old dad.

Scorpius started to head towards the hallway when Draco swung him up and over his shoulder, to the adorable tiny fury of Scorpius. "DAD!" he screeched. "Put me down!"

"Sorry, no can do," Draco said. Scorpius screeched something in a frequency far too high for Draco to understand and flailed as Draco carried him down the hall to the bathroom.

When Draco set him down, Scorpius crossed his arms and sulked. He glared up at Draco through his way-overdue-for-a-haircut bangs. Draco was hard-pressed to not crack up right then and there. He settled for a slightly manic grin and turned on the tap. "Are you going to wash your hands or stand there and look angry?" he inquired. Scorpius huffed but allowed Draco to lift him up so he could reach the sink.

Halfway through playing with the bubbles under the guise of cleaning his hands, Scorpius stopped and looked down at Draco's arm. "What's that?" he asked.

Draco looked down, curious to see what on his arm could distract his usually focused son, and let out a small curse. He'd rolled up his sleeves without realizing it and his dark mark, still as black as the day it was burned into his skin, was showing bright and clear against his pale skin.

"Finish washing up," Draco said. Scorpius stuck his hands under the tap and rinsed off all the suds, now more interested in Draco's reaction than in being angry about being tossed around.

Draco went to roll down his sleeves while Scorpius dried his hands but his son stopped him and pushed Draco's sleeve back up. "Scorpius, leave it alone," he said. Scorpius ignored him and pulled Draco's forearm closer to his face. He traced the tongue of the snake with his finger then looked up at Draco with the same blue curious eyes Draco had looked to Father with when he was that age. Lucius had been proud to show it off, where Draco was ashamed. It wasn't something Scorpius needed to know about until he was much, much older. At his request, Father kept his hidden when Scorpius was around; he didn't necessarily agree with Draco on the subject but Mother kept him in line on it. "I'm serious—"

"It looks mean." Scorpius cut him off and melted the rest of Draco's words in his mouth. "Why, Dad?"

Draco lifted Scorpius onto the edge of the sink and ran his hand through his hair. Scorpius simply stared at him, waiting for his answer. Why? Why did Draco have that damned mark? Why did it look so mean? Why did he keep it hidden? All those questions were in Scorpius' eyes and Draco didn't know where to begin. He sighed and struggled to come up with a simplistic enough answer to satisfy his son. "It's...not something I'm proud of, Scorpius, know that first and foremost. When I was younger—"

"My age?" Scorpius asked, looking concerned.

A small smile flitted across Draco's lips. "No, older—"

"Like how old?"

"That's not important. As I was saying, when I was younger, I made a very, very stupid decision and caused a lot of pain for a lot of people and that mark symbolizes all of that. Do you understand?"

Scorpius nodded even though Scorpius knew he didn't. "Why don't you make it go away?" he asked, with childish care so strong that Draco wished he could wipe the mark from his arm.

"I can't. It's magical and it won't go away. I can't hide it or get rid of it. It's there for forever."

Scorpius thought about it for a moment, then reached out and grasped Draco's arm with his soft, cold fingers. Very carefully, he spread out both hands over the mark until only tiny bits of black between his fingers showed. "It's not there, Dad," he said. "See?"

Draco covered Scorpius' hands with his own. Scorpius grinned, most of the seriousness lost on him. "It can't bother you if it's not there."

Draco hugged Scorpius. Against his will, a couple of tears started to make their way towards the corner of his eyes. "What would I do without you?" he mumbled into the top of Scorpius' head.

"I love you, Dad," Scorpius whispered back.