Scorpius Malfoy - Ultimate Wingman

Hermione Granger was distracted as she exited Flourish and Blotts, stowing her large stack of new books into her beaded bag. She didn’t see the little person near her knees until she bumped into him, almost knocking them both to the ground. 

She shot out a hand to steady the small boy, and immediately noticed his tear-stained face and watery eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped, crouching down to make eye contact. “Are you ok?”

“I lost - I lost my Daddy,” the boy gasped through tears.

“Ok, don’t worry, big guy,” she said. “Stick with me, we’ll find your dad.”

She looked at the boy a bit more closely. White blonde hair, grey eyes, pointy chin. She knew that face. Damned if she didn’t know that face.

“Is your dad’s name Draco?” She asked kindly. 

He nodded, wiping his tears on his sleeve.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“Scorpius,” the boy mumbled.

“Ok, buddy, hold on,” she said, standing and drawing her wand. She was shocked as Scorpius reached up for her free hand, but squeezed it reassuringly. 

She cast Sonorous on herself, then said, “Malfoy, Scorpius is at Flourish and Blotts. We’ll wait for you here.”

It was twelve seconds before Draco Malfoy came tearing around a corner in a full panic, skidding to a stop in front of the bookshop. Pansy Parkinson was right behind him, looking terrified. 

Malfoy scooped the boy up and held him tight.

“Scorp, what on earth were you thinking?” He scolded. “You nearly scared me to death.” 

Hermione took a quiet step back as the family reunited. There was no mistaking Draco Malfoy, with his distinctive hair and steely eyes. But he had certainly changed in the seven or so years since she’d seen him. The hair was shaggier now, roguishly disheveled. He was taller, more muscular and broad. He was heavily tattooed, a full sleeve appearing out of the arm of his gray t-shirt. There was a constellation on the back of each of his hands. He was clinging desperately to a miniature version of himself.

He kissed the boy’s head and pulled him closer.

“You’re never to run away from us, ever. Why did you run off?”

“I saw a puppy,” Scorpius sniffled.

“Scorp, we’ll get you a puppy,” Pansy said, rubbing his back. “For your birthday, like we discussed. You can’t run off, you scared your dad and me so badly.”

“I was scared too,” Scorpius let loose a torrent of new tears. “But the nice lady helped me.”

Malfoy and Parkinson noticed the witch standing to the side for the first time.

“Granger,” Malfoy said, eyes wide.

“Thank you, Granger,” Parkinson threw her arms around the shocked witch. “I’m so glad you were here.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Hermione said, extricating herself from the unexpected embrace.

“I want ice cream,” Scorpius announced tearfully, as his father tried to clean his face with a handkerchief. 

“If you promise to never scare Dad like that again,” Malfoy said firmly. 

“Never ever ever,” his son nodded.

“Ok, Pans, I’m going to take him to Fortescue’s,” Malfoy said. “Meet you at home?” 

“Yeah, I’m going to go start dinner. Don’t spoil his appetite,” Parkinson said, kissing both Malfoys on the cheek.

Scorpius had wiggled out of his dad’s arms, and walked a few steps to Hermione, reaching for her hand and beaming up at her.

“Daddy, can the nice lady come for ice cream too?” He said.

“Oh, um, I’m sure Granger is busy - ” Malfoy started.

“Oh, I’d love to, Scorpius, but I - ” she began.

“Please Daddy, can Granger have ice cream with us?”

The child turned big, pleading, adorable eyes on both adults.

“Hell, Granger, let me buy you a scoop,” Malfoy shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Least I can do, seeing as you kept my son from wandering Diagon Alley all by himself.”

“Alright,” she said slowly. Scorpius tugged her hand and the three of them set off to the ice cream shop.

“What’s your favorite flavor, Granger?” Scorpius asked excitedly. “Mine is chocolate strawberry marshmallow.”

“Don’t call her Granger, Scorp,” Draco groaned. “She’s an adult. Call her Miss Granger or Miss Hermione.”

“You call her Granger,” Scorpius pouted.

“Yes, well, I’m an adult too,” Malfoy said. “And don’t stick that little lip out, you know that doesn’t work on me.”

He leaned conspiratorially towards Hermione. 

“It absolutely works on me,” he whispered. “But don’t tell him.”

“So what is your favorite flavor, Miss Granger?” Scorpius asked again.

“Hm…probably apple caramel crunch,” she mused.

“I’ve never had that one,” the boy said, full of interest.

“You can try some of mine,” she smiled at him.

“I like sharing,” Scorpius said. “My Nana says if I don’t learn how to share, I’ll end up spoiled like Daddy.”

Hermione snorted and glanced sideways at Malfoy, who shrugged.

“But I never share Daddy’s ice cream, he gets mint chocolate chip. It’s so gross!”

Scorpius wrinkled his little nose.

“That’s my trick, little buddy,” Draco said. “Get the flavor you hate, then I don’t have to share.”

“I think your Nana is right, Scorpius,” Hermione said. “Your dad is bad at sharing.”

Malfoy purchased their cones and they arranged themselves at a table on the patio.

“So are you back in Britain for a holiday?” Hermione asked Malfoy as Scorpius dug into his ice cream.

“No, we just moved back last week,” he said. 

“Lovely,” she remarked. “How long have you and Parkinson been together?”

Malfoy spluttered. 

“Oh, no, god no, nothing like that,” he laughed.

“Scorp and I are staying at her house temporarily until I find a place. We’re just friends, she’s helping me with Scorp.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, thinking of a delicate way to ask her next question.

“My wife, Victoria, died,” he said quietly, making sure his son wasn’t paying attention. “About two hours after Scorpius was born. It’s just us boys now.”

He ruffled his son's hair.

“I’m so sorry, Malfoy, I had no idea,” she breathed.

He folded a napkin carefully, not looking at her.

“I had a few nannies over the years, but it’s hard for me to trust anyone with him,” Malfoy said. “When I got a job offer in London, Pansy said we could move in, and she’ll help with Scorp.”

“I love Aunt Pansy,” Scorpius interjected.

“She loves you, squirt,” Malfoy said. 

“And you, Granger?” He said. “Married with kids?”

“Recently single, no kids,” she said. 

“You and the Weasel broke up?” He asked.

“I mean, yeah, about five years ago. We’re just friends. I was living with Oliver Wood for several years, but he moved out a few months ago.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Malfoy said.

“It’s fine,” she waved it off. 

“Anyway, Ron married Daphne Greengrass last year,” she continued. “I’m surprised you didn’t hear.”

“The only people in Britain I kept in contact with are Pansy and my mother. I didn’t take the Prophet or anything in France, and I let Mum and Pansy know I wanted a full separation from my old life. So they don’t tell me anything. I did hear Potter and the Weaslette are married.”

“Oh, you’re behind then,” she said. “They got married right after the war, popped out two little boys, then a few months ago, Ginny scurried off to America to play Quidditch with her new boyfriend. They’re divorced and Harry has the boys full time.”

“That sucks,” Malfoy said. “What kind of mother leaves her own kids?”

“A shitty one,” Hermione said, covering Scorpius’ ears. 

“Who’s the new boyfriend?” He asked.

“Oliver Wood,” Hermione shrugged.

“She cheated on Potter with your boyfriend?” He asked in a shocked whisper.

“Yes, it was quite the scandal. And now the Prophet speculates daily on if Harry and I will get together.”

“Will you?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” she said, laughing. “I’m just helping him out with the boys when I can. He’s my best friend and I hate seeing him struggle like this.”

“Daddy, I’m done, but I forgot to share with Granger,” Scorpius announced, his face covered in pink ice cream.

“Miss Granger,” his dad corrected. “Let me wipe your face.”

Scorpius squirmed under the napkin.

“Can’t you just do it with your wand?” He protested.

“No, if I do everything for you with magic, you’ll never learn to do anything for yourself. You know that.”

“But I’ll have my own wand in five years and eight months,” the boy objected.

“And I fear that day with my entire being, you devious little thing,” Malfoy smiled.

“Do you want a bite of my ice cream, Scorpius?”

Hermione asked.

He nodded vigorously, so she summoned a spoon and offered him a bite. 

“Daddy, this is so much better than yours,” he said. “You should try it.”

“No more ice cream for Dad,” Malfoy sighed. “If I’m not hungry enough for Aunt Pansy’s dinner, she’ll be sad.”

“I don’t want her to be sad,” Scorpius said. “We should go help her set the table.”

“You’re right, as usual,” Malfoy said, standing and reaching for Scorpius’ hand. “Well, it was nice seeing you, Granger. Thanks again for helping Scorpius.”

“I want Granger to come to dinner,” Scorpius said, pouting at his dad.

“Miss Granger,” Malfoy corrected.

“Miss Granger, will you please please please please come to dinner? Aunt Pansy makes really good dinner,” he pleaded.

“Come on then, Granger,” Malfoy said. “Would you like to join us?”

“Sure, I suppose,” she said. “Parkinson won’t mind?”

“No,” he said. “She always makes enough for twenty people.”

Malfoy led them to the Apparation point, and the three disappeared.

***

Pansy owned a cottage outside of London. It was a lovely little place, with a great deal of land and a charming garden. Scorpius took off running for the front door.

Draco watched his feet as he and Granger walked towards the porch. Without Scorpius, this was more than a little awkward.

“What work are you doing here in Britain?” She asked.

“Head Potioneer for Excel Elixirs,” he said. “I start on Monday.”

“How exciting,” she said sincerely. “Were you working in Potions in France?”

“Yes, but this position is quite a step up,” he said. “And what do you do?”

“I was working at the Ministry, Magical Creatures. It was awful. Luckily McGonagall offered me the Charms post starting next term. So I quit the Ministry and am taking several months off. I’ll move to Hogwarts in late August.”

“Wow, you must be the youngest professor in about a century,” he said.

“I would be, except Harry just signed on to teach Defense. He and the boys are moving into the castle, and I’ll be there to help with them. I think McGonagall knew we both needed a fresh start.”

“She’s perceptive like that,” Draco nodded as they reached the front door.

The cottage smelled divine. Pansy met them in the foyer, with Scorpius on her hip.

“Scorp told me you were coming, Granger,” she said. “I hope you like roast. It’s nothing fancy.”

“That sounds lovely,” Granger replied. “Thank you for having me.”

“Nonsense, it’s not every day that Scorp brings a girl home,” she kissed the boy on the cheek before he wiggled away.

“Wine?” Draco asked both witches. 

“Please,” they said together.

Draco poured them wine and motioned for them to sit at the dining table. 

“Scorp,” he called. “Please come set the silverware.”

He pulled out dishes and began setting places at the table, Scorpius dutifully setting the silverware just right.

“No house elf?”  Granger asked curiously. 

“No,” Pansy said firmly. “I freed mine when I got divorced. After marrying that brute, I know exactly how it feels to not have any will of my own. I couldn’t do that to another living being. So I freed my sweet Mippy, and she works at Hogwarts for pay now. We stay in touch.”

Draco noticed Granger beaming at her. Nothing impressed Granger more than kindness to house elves. 

“I heard about you and that Wood bloke,” Pansy said. “Sounds like a real piece of trash.”

“I can’t say I’m very happy with him at the moment, but we were never meant to be. I’m well past it. I just wish Harry hadn’t gotten hurt in the process.”

“How is Potter doing?” Pansy asked. “He has two little ones, right?”

“James and Sirius, they’re twins,” Granger smiled. “Harry’s doing ok, considering. He was just blindsided by Ginny’s betrayal. All he ever wanted was a family, and she took that from him, just like Voldemort did - ”

“Granger, you can’t say that word,” Scorpius scolded. “It’s You-Know-Who.”

“Sorry, buddy, You-Know-Who,” she amended.

“It’s Miss Granger,” Draco said. “And don’t be bossy.”

Scorpius pouted.

“Can I have wine?”

“No, but you can have pumpkin juice,” Pansy said firmly, summoning a flagon and a plastic cup.

“Can I have a wine glass?” He asked hopefully. 

“Sure,” Draco said, summoning a wine glass and placing an unbreakable charm on it. Scorpius’ face lit up.

“Is Potter struggling raising two kids by himself?” Draco asked. “I just have the one and it’s overwhelming.”

“Ron and I have been stepping in when we can. Hagrid babysits often. Neville and Luna keep them overnight occasionally. Even McGonagall has kept them for a few afternoons. But, yeah, he’s struggling.”

The adults chatted until the roast was served, Scorpius occasionally offering his opinions and thoughts. Once he was done eating, he raced his dishes to the sink, and crawled into his dad’s lap.

“I’m tired,” he said, snuggling into Draco’s neck.

“Bedtime, then,” Draco announced. “Go brush your teeth and floo call Nana so she can say goodnight. I’ll be up to read your story in ten minutes.”

“K,” the boy said as he shuffled up the stairs. “Except I want Granger to tell my story. Do you know any stories about dragons, Granger?”

“Miss Granger,” Pansy corrected.

“I actually rode a dragon once,” Granger said, winking at the boy. “Would you like to hear that story?”

“Yes!” He exploded.

“Is that ok, Malfoy?” Granger bit her lip.

“Sure,” he said easily. “As long as someone gets his teeth clean and calls his grandmother.”

Scorpius, suddenly not tired, raced up the stairs.

“Are you sure that’s ok, Malfoy?” Granger asked. 

“Absolutely,” Draco said. “Usually we just read The Naughty Dragon over and over until he passes out. I could use a break from that fucking dragon. I’ll pour you another glass of wine and we can have an after dinner drink in the sitting room.”

They made their way to the sitting room, and Draco summoned another bottle of wine. Hermione wandered over to the bookshelf.

“I haven’t unpacked my books yet,” Draco said. “Those are all Pansy’s.”

“Oh, these magical romance novels aren’t yours?” She teased, motioning to a shelf of bodice-rippers. 

“Well, of course those are mine,” he teased back. “First things I unpacked.”

“As suspected,” she smirked at him.

“All clean!” Scorpius bounced into the room, showing his teeth to the adults. “And Nana says to be good for Granger and not to get too excited about my new story or I won’t sleep good.”

“Ok, goodnight, big guy, I love you,” Draco held the boy close and kissed his hair.

“Love you too, love you Aunt Pansy,” he said, dashing to the kitchen to hug the witch. Then he returned, grabbed Granger’s hand, and tugged.

“C’mon Granger, I want to hear a story,” he said as he pulled her out of the room.

Almost as soon as they departed, Narcissa’s face appeared in the sitting room fire.

“I just had an interesting conversation with your son,” Narcissa smirked at Draco. “Is this ‘Granger’ he’s so excited about Hermione Granger?”

Draco filled her in on Scorpius’ daring escape in Diagon Alley and Granger's heroic rescue, then Scorpius’ insistence that they all dine together.

“Well, I'm glad she was there,” Narcissa said. “He was so excited for his story, he ran away before I could tell him I love him. So do pass along the message.”

“I will Mum, goodnight,” he said, as Pansy strolled back into the sitting room with her glass of wine. Granger followed a few minutes later and took the wine he proffered.

“What an intelligent little boy,” she said, perching in an armchair. “I didn’t even get halfway through my story, he asked so many questions. Then I looked down and he was asleep.”

“He’s an angel when he’s sleeping,” Pansy said. “He’s a lot more like Draco when he’s awake.”

“Shut up, Pans,” he said, refilling her wine.

“Careful, Daddy Draco,” she teased. “Remember when you called me a daft bint at Christmas last year and Scorpius repeated it constantly? Wouldn’t want him telling Narcissa to shut up, would you?”

Draco shivered. 

“The look on her face when he said ‘Pass the mash, please, you daft bint’. She hasn’t yelled at me that much since I was a teenager.”

Pansy and Granger laughed. 

“So, Parkinson, or, I guess, is it still Parkinson? You said you were previously married," Hermione started.

“It’s Parkinson,” Pansy said. “It was Rowle for a year, but I’m back to my maiden name now, thank Merlin.”

“Bad breakup?” Granger asked sympathetically.

“Abusive monster,” Draco snapped.

“We didn’t get along, it was an arranged marriage. He didn’t like when I expressed thoughts or opinions, and became…aggressive…when I didn’t cooperate,” Pansy said delicately.

“You give him too much credit, Pans,” Draco said angrily. “He hit you.”

“Only once,” she said.

“He would have again, that’s why I got you the fuck out of there.”

“When he hit me, I was frightened and didn’t know what to do, so I flooed to Draco in France…”

“And I took care of it,” Draco growled. “He’s lucky I didn’t kill the son of a bitch.”

“Well, you did put him in St. Mungo’s for several days,” Pansy said. “Which gave me enough time to get a divorce and a magical restraining order.”

“If that fucker ever comes within 100 feet of Pansy, Aurors will be notified and Apparate immediately to arrest him,” Draco explained.

“Oh, Harry and Ron told me about those restraining magics,” Granger said. “I believe they were Harry’s invention.”

“I had no idea,” Pansy said. “It works really well. Even Rowle’s owl can’t come near me.”

“I’ll tell Harry that you’re pleased,” Granger said as she finished her wine. “I should be going. Thank you both for a lovely evening.”

“I will gladly feed anyone who saves Scorpius,” Pansy smiled. 

“Goodnight Granger,” Draco said as she exited through the Floo.

She was barely gone for ten seconds when Pansy rounded on him.

“You like her,” Pansy said.

“Oh shut up, you daft bint.”

That Saturday, Hermione and Harry escorted James and Sirius to Diagon Alley. The boys had been going stir-crazy, and needed to get out of the house. Their father had been going two-small-boys-crazy, and needed his best friend.

“So what have you been up to? I’ve barely talked to you this week,” Harry asked as they followed the two chattering boys. “James, don’t push your brother - no Sirius, don’t put things from the ground into your mouth - James, come back here!”

Hermione caught the little arm as he was about to dash away, and held onto James’ hand. He looked mutinous, and for a moment so resembled his father that Hermione chuckled.

“If you boys are good while we shop, maybe Aunt Hermione can take you to a park afterwards,” she said.

“Ok,” The boys chorused.

“That might keep them in line for five minutes,” Harry said under his breath.

“If that,” she whispered back.

“So what’s been up with you this week?” He asked again.

“Busy, I guess,” she shrugged. “Trying to get my lesson plans in order. But actually, I did have an interesting evening on Thursday.”

“Oh?” Harry asked as his children attempted to pull him in different directions.

“Yeah, I ran into - ” she cut off as they heard a loud shout of excitement.

“GRANGER!” A small voice roared. The next thing she knew, a tiny hand had slipped into hers, and Scorpius Malfoy was beaming up at her.

“Scorpius Victor Malfoy,” his father was only steps behind him, looking stern. “Did you learn nothing two days ago? You do not run away from me in public.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” said the boy, not at all contrite. “But I found my Granger!”

“I see that. Hi Granger. Hi Potter,” he said. “Regardless, Scorp, you do not run off and give me another heart attack. And it’s Miss Granger.”

“Hi, I’m Scorpius,” he said, ignoring his dad completely and turning to the Potter boys. “Do you know my Granger?”

“Who? Mione?” James asked quizzically. Scorpius nodded enthusiastically.

“She rode a dragon once, she started to tell me all about it, but I fell asleep. Will you tell me the rest of the story tonight, Granger?”

“Miss Granger,” his dad corrected exasperatedly. 

“Is Granger your mummy? My mummy died,” Scorpius said.

“She’s Aunt Mione,” Sirius said, looking confused. “Our mummy left, she had to play Kidditch instead of being our mummy.”

A deeply pained look crossed Harry’s face, and Hermione rushed to change the subject.

“It’s lovely to see you again so soon, Scorpius,” she said, kneeling down to talk to him. “But next time you see me you can just say hello, and I'll come over to you. You shouldn't run away from your dad, even if you’re excited.”

“Ok,” he said. “Daddy, can we please go see the new broomsticks?”

“In a minute, bud,” Draco said. “Can I have just a moment to talk to the adults?”

With a world-weary sigh, Scorpius agreed, then showed James and Sirius the candies he had procured at Honeydukes. 

“How have you been, Malfoy?” Harry asked. 

“Other than Scorpius’ new obsession with running away from me, I’m well,” he said, shaking Harry’s hand. “And you?”

“We’re getting by,” Harry said, placing a hand on each of his son’s shoulders. “You’ve moved back from France?”

“Just last week, we’re staying with Pansy until we get settled,” Draco explained. 

“Parkinson?” Harry asked and Draco nodded.

“Daddy, broomsticks,” Scorpius pulled on his arm.

“Ok, ok, we’ll go,” Draco said. He turned to the Potter boys. “Would you blokes like to come?”

He nodded to Quality Quidditch Supplies across the road. James and Sirius roared their approval, and they all set off to look at broomsticks.

As Malfoy entered the store behind the three boys, Harry pulled Hermione aside and watched his boys through the shop’s window.

“What is that all about?” He asked suspiciously.

Hermione quickly filled him in.

“And now Scorpius seems to have developed a connection with me,” she concluded.

“Hermione, I need you to foster that connection,” Harry said, sounding slightly desperate.

“Why?” She asked, watching as Malfoy showed all three boys a new Nimbus model.

“I saw Pansy Parkinson the other week in the Leaky. She’s…look, she’s really pretty. And I haven’t been attracted to anyone since Ginny left. I was thinking about trying to run into her sometime. This could be my chance.”

He was blushing by the time he finished.

He scowled at Hermione’s amused look.

“She tried to turn you over to Voldemort, Harry,” Hermione reminded him. 

“Ages ago,” he shrugged. “Hermione, I haven’t felt anything in a really long time. And I haven’t touched a woman in well over a year. Help me out here. I’d like to see her again.”

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll see what I can do to get you laid.”

“Thank you,” he said, tossing an arm around her shoulders. “Now, it seems that Malfoy has a little crush on you.”

“What?” She almost screeched.

“Not that Malfoy,” he nodded at Draco through the window. “The little one.”

“Oh, well, yes, I think he might,” Hermione said, smiling at the little blond head.

“Shit, James is trying to mount a broom,” Harry rushed through the shop door. “James Arthur Potter, put that down this instant!”

“I don’t know how you do this with two of them, Potter,” Malfoy said, while admiring the display of Snitches with Scorpius and Sirius. “Just the one is driving me mad.”

“Couldn’t do it without Hermione,” Harry said instantly. “She’s the world’s greatest aunt.”

“Malfoy,” Hermione said. “Harry and I were going to make chicken and dumplings tonight. Would you, Scorpius, and Parkinson like to join us? I owe you from the other day.”

Malfoy gave her a look that she couldn’t quite interpret, and nodded, a smile on his face.

“What do you think, Scorp?” He asked his son. “Would you like to play with your new friends tonight?”

“Yeah,” all three boys shouted. 

“How about six o’clock?” Harry said, checking his watch. 

“Sounds good, I’ll let Pansy know when we get home. Let’s go tell her, huh, Scorp?”

“Ok,” the boy wrapped his arms around Hermione’s legs and squeezed tightly. “Bye Granger.”

“Miss Granger,” Malfoy said as they left the shop.

“I was totally wrong,” Harry mused as they gathered the boys and headed for Grimmauld Place. “Both Malfoys have a crush on you.”

“You’re out of your mind, Harry,” she rolled her eyes.

“Possibly,” he said, hitching Sirius onto his shoulders. “Now, how do I get Pansy to notice me?”

“Have you tried saving the Wizarding World?” She teased. “Or maybe become the most famous wizard in all of Europe. Or, just a thought, run a comb through your hair.”

He scowled at her and patted down his hair.

***

Draco was a bit nervous as he got Scorpius ready for dinner. He and Potter had set aside their differences when Potter testified on his behalf after the war, and Draco had sincerely apologized to his former nemesis. They certainly weren’t friends, but they were absolutely cordial. It wasn’t Potter that made him nervous.

Scorpius had spoken of nothing but Granger for days. He had clearly become quite smitten from the few hours they had spent in her presence. And Draco wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

His heart broke for his little boy, deprived of a mother, looking for any woman to fill that gaping hole in his life. Scorpius was extremely attached to both his Aunt Pansy and his Nana. It was Scorpius, not Narcissa, that insisted on the goodnight Floo calls, and he would owl Pansy new crayon drawings several times a week when they were living in France.

The boy wanted a mother. And Draco knew, with absolute certainty, that that mother figure could never be Granger. 

He was Draco Malfoy. She was Hermione Granger. Maybe they could be friendly, perhaps even friends. But there was simply no way anything else would ever happen. He would need to find a way to make this clear to Scorpius, before he became too invested. Before either of them became too invested.

The problem was, Draco didn’t get out much these days. He worked long hours as a potioneer, ran three miles a day, and spent time with Scorpius. His social life included Pansy, daily Floo calls with his mother, and an occasional owl from Theo Nott. 

So when a beautiful, intelligent, witty witch blew into his life, he took notice. How could he not notice her? She was…intriguing.  He was intrigued. And for the sake of the simple little life he had built for his son, he couldn’t afford to be intrigued.

Pansy glided into the room, linking a necklace behind her neck. 

“Do I look ok?” She asked. Draco looked up in surprise. Pansy had never asked him that before, she always assumed she looked stunning, and she was always right. Where did this lack of confidence come from?

“You look lovely,” he assured her, as Scorpius said, “You look pretty, Aunt Pansy.”

She kissed them both on the forehead.

“I’m nervous,” she said.

“Why?” He questioned. “I mean, me too, but why you?”

“I saw Harry Potter at the Leaky awhile back,” she confessed. “He’s gorgeous. And single. We had a nice chat. But I was awful to him in school. What if he doesn't want me there?”

“You were specifically invited,” Draco said, adding just a bit of gel to Scorpius’ hair. “Now come on, let’s go face the Gryffindors.”

“What’s a Gryffindor?” Scorpius asked. “Is that another bad word?”

Draco and Pansy snickered. 

“No, little man, it’s a house at Hogwarts, Remember your daddy told you about Hogwarts. Your dad and I were in Slytherin. Miss Granger and Mr. Potter were in Gryffindor.”

Scorpius considered this.

“Will I be in Gryffindor?” He asked.

“Absolutely not,” his father and aunt said.

***

They arrived at 12 Grimmauld Place at precisely six, Draco carrying a bottle of wine, Pansy a bouquet of daisies from her gardens, and Scorpius drawings he made for all four of their hosts.

Granger answered the door and ushered them inside. 

“Be quiet in the foyer,” she whispered.

“Why?” Scorpius whispered back.

“There’s a very angry portrait over there,” she pointed. “If we wake her, she’ll yell mean stuff at us.”

“Is that my Great Aunt Walburga?” Draco asked, forgetting to be quiet in his surprise.

“Shit,” Granger whispered.

“Bad word, Granger!” Scorpius whisper-shouted.

MUDBLOODS! FILTH! BESMIRCHING MY FAMILY HOME! BLOOD TRAITORS AND HALF-BREEDS AND - Draco?”

For once the portrait was not screaming, but staring at Scorpius with frank curiosity.

“No, Aunt Walburga, I’m Draco,” he stepped forward. “This is my son, Scorpius.”

“Is he pureblood?” The portrait asked.

“Not that it matters, but yes.”

“Good,” Walburga nodded. “Now eject all of this filth from my home.”

”Sorry, Aunt Walburga, but no,” he shook his head. “And please do watch your language around my son.”

Walburga began ranting again, as Potter ran upstairs from the kitchen and helped Granger slam the curtains shut over the crazed painting.

“Merlin, Potter, why do you have that hanging in your home?” Draco asked.

“This was her house, i inherited it from Sirius. There’s a permanent sticking charm on her frame. I’ve tried everything,” Potter shrugged.

“Hold on,” Draco said. “Hey, Pansy, can you take Scorp out of the room for a moment?”

Once his son was out of sight, Draco drew his wand, and sliced the pad of his index finger. He ran the bloody digit down the side of Walburga’s frame. The frame glowed briefly, then clattered to the floor. He mended his finger, then turned back to his companions, who were gaping at him.

“Scorpius hates the sight of blood,” he explained. “I didn’t want him to see.”

“You got her down,” Potter stared at him with something like awe on his face.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Black blood. The Black family had some weird enchantments, very strange people. It all comes down to blood though, they weren’t especially creative.”

“I’ve been living with Walburga for seven years,” Potter breathed. “Thank you, Malfoy.”

Draco rubbed the back of his neck.

“No problem,” he said. “I suppose if you run into any other weird Black shit around here, I’m happy to come bleed on it.”

“How weirdly and disgustingly generous of you,” Granger said. 

***

Dinner was laid back and pleasant. Hermione noticed the many surreptitious looks shared between Harry and Parkinson. She thought she saw Malfoy notice too.

They called an end to the evening when Scorpius fell asleep in the middle of pudding, and Malfoy and Parkinson took him home to bed.

“Stay, a bit,” Harry insisted to Hermione after the boys were asleep. “It’s early and I have firewhiskey.”

“Sure,” she said, kicking off her shoes and lounging on the couch.

“So,” he said, pouring the whiskey. “Tonight went well.”

“Yes, the boys seemed to have fun,” she affirmed, wrangling her hair into a bun. “And you seem to have caught the eye of a certain Ms. Parkinson.”

“I wasn’t imagining that?” He exclaimed. “That was some serious eye contact, am I right?”

“It was,” she nodded, sipping her drink.

“Almost as intense as the eye contact Malfoy was maintaining with your cleavage,” Harry smirked, then ducked as a mostly-harmless hex was lobbed his way. 

“You’re an idiot, Harry Potter,” she said affectionately, raising her glass to his.

Malfoy sent an owl on Tuesday at Scorpius’ insistence, asking if the residents of Grimmauld Place would join he, Pansy, and Scorpius at a park that evening.

The twins, Harry, and Hermione arrived after an early dinner, joining Malfoy and Parkinson on the swing set and watching the boys immediately start chasing each other. After the initial burst of energy, they settled into the sandbox next to the swing set, determined to get sand on every inch of their beings.

“When do you get your wands?” Scorpius asked his new friends. “I get mine in five years and eight months.

“Um…five years and…” Sirius looked to his father.

”Ten months,” Harry supplied kicking his legs to swing a bit higher.

“You know what that means, boys,” Draco said. “You’ll all start Hogwarts at the same time.”

“Maybe we’ll all be Gryffindors,” James said. 

“Even if you’re not in the same house, you guys can still be friends,” Hermione said, pumping her legs to swing higher than Harry.

“Were you and Daddy friends at Hogwarts?” Scorpius asked.

Harry laughed loudly, and Pansy snickered.

“Well, no, we weren’t,” Draco said carefully. “We really didn’t like each other. In fact, Miss Granger slapped me once at Hogwarts.”

Scorpius turned to her with wide eyes.

”Granger, hitting isn’t nice,” he admonished.

“I know, Scorp, you’re absolutely right,” Hermione said.

“In her defense, I deserved it,” Draco said. “I said something really mean about someone Miss Granger loves.”

“You both should’ve got time out,” Scorpius advised.

“Right you are,” Draco said.

***

There was an intense game of Gobstones underway at Grimmauld Place Wednesday evening when Ron Weasley popped through the Floo unannounced.

“Uncle Ron,” screamed both boys.

Ron was tackled, and there was an ensuing five-minute wrestling match. He was eventually pinned, Sirius sitting on his head and James laying across his legs.

“Alright guys, let your uncle breathe,” Harry said finally.

“Remember when I was able to take on both of them at once?” Ron said. “They’re getting too big, too fast.”

He hugged Hermione and clapped Harry on the back.

“Do you guys have plans tonight?” Ron asked. “Do you mind if I hang out?”

“Of course,” Harry said. “Is everything ok?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, sitting and stretching his legs. “Daphne invited Astoria over for ‘sister time’ this afternoon. They’re on their second bottle of wine, singing Weird Sisters songs and giggling. So much giggling. I was starting to get a headache.”

“So you came to a house with two 5-year-olds?” Hermione teased. “Solid logic.”

“How’s Daphne?” Harry asked. 

“Good, good,” Ron said. “She just got promoted to Assistant Manager at the bookshop, so we’re completely loaded now.”

His friends rolled their eyes. 

“Yeah,” Ron mused. “I suppose I’m a gold-digger now. I knew I had it in me.”

“Well, tell your sugar-mama I said congratulations,” Hermione said, nudging his calf with her foot. “I didn’t realize the Ministry paid their Aurors so poorly.”

“It’s not great, to be honest,” Harry said. 

“I’m gonna be an Auror like Daddy and Uncle Ron,” James announced, trying to climb on Ron’s back, nearly strangling him.

“I’m gonna marry a pretty lady and eat a lot of cake,” his brother said seriously.

“That’a boy,” Ron said, ruffling Sirius’ hair, which was the precise color of his own.

“Harry, I’m going to grab a bottle of wine, come assemble some snacks with me,” Hermione said.

Shooting her an inquisitive look, he rose and ignored the renewed wrestling match happening on his sofa.

“Have you told him?” She asked in a loud whisper.

“About…?” Harry asked.

“Malfoy and Parkinson. Scorpius being friends with the boys. Does he know?” She said urgently.

“I haven’t said anything to him,” Harry answered. “How do you think he’ll react?”

Hermione chewed her lip. 

“Three years ago he would’ve popped his top,” she considered. “But he’s matured so much since he met Daphne. I mean, he married a Slytherin.”

“Yeah, but he really fucking hated Malfoy,” Harry said worriedly. 

“What if Pansy tells Daphne?” Hermione asked. “He’ll be furious if he thinks we hid something from him.”

“You’re right,” Harry sighed. “Let’s tell him tonight. Now, what snacks should I get?”

“Who cares?” She shrugged and reached for a bottle of wine. “All three of the blokes in there will eat literally anything.”

Harry laughed and grabbed some scones and jam, then tossed a few pieces of fruit in a bowl.

”Actually, Sirius refuses to eat mushy peas. That’s the only thing either one has ever been picky about. You can tell they’re half-Weasley by their appetite.”

They reentered the sitting room to find Ron with a squirming boy held in each arm.

“I won,” he grinned at them triumphantly. “No mere boy can overcome the power of Uncle Ron.”

James kneed him in the ribs, and he dropped both kids.

“Ok, yeah, they’re getting too big,” he said. “I’m going to be sore for a week.”

“Boys, did you tell Uncle Ron that you made a new friend?” Harry asked, knowing that Ron would always control his temper in front of kids. Best send the news with the cutest messengers.

“His name is Scorpius and he has white hair and he’s going to Hogwarts with us,” Sirius blurted out.

“He’s going to get a puppy for his birthday and he said we could play with it,” James added.

“Malfoy’s kid?” Ron asked, raising his brows at his friends.

Hermione nodded, watching Ron carefully.

“Daph mentioned that he moved back recently with his son. Living with Parkinson, right?”

“Yeah, we’ve had a of couple…play dates…I guess you could call them, with Malfoy and Pansy,” Harry confirmed.

“Weird,” Ron said, taking a sip of wine. “But they’re being decent?”

“Very much so,” Hermione said. “And Scorpius is a great kid.”

“You’re not…you said these are play dates…you’re not dating, right?”

“No,” Harry said. “I’m not dating Pansy and Hermione is not dating Malfoy.”

“That’s not what I was asking,” Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, you two, you’re not dating, right? Not that I have any problem with it, you’re adults and you have every right to be together…I just thought you would tell me.”

“Goodness, Ronald, no,” Hermione laughed. “You’re as bad as the Prophet. As always, Harry and I are friends.”

“Cool, just checking,” he grinned at them.

“Now, boys,” he said seriously to his nephews. “I’m glad you made a new friend, but there are two rules.”

The boys nodded solemnly.

“First, don’t be Slytherins when you get to Hogwarts,” he said.

Harry rolled his eyes.

“You married a Slytherin,” he reminded his best friend.

“Yeah, the best one,” Ron replied. “That doesn’t mean I condone the house as a whole. I’m just more open-minded to nuance now.”

“James, Sirius, whatever house you end up in is absolutely fine, and we’ll all be very proud of you. Your uncle is being silly,” Hermione said.

“What’s the second rule?” Sirius asked.

“Some day, Scorpius may tell you that his dad was better at Quidditch than me. This is a lie, and you should tattle immediately. Mr. Malfoy may teach his son a song regarding my Quidditch playing. Again, tattle immediately.”

“Ok, Uncle Ron,” James said. “But Daddy said if we tattle too much, we’ll be giant swots like Aunt Mione.”

Hermione flicked her wand first at Harry, who sprouted daisies out of his ears, then at the hysterically laughing Ron, who’s skin turned a neon pink color.

“Arses,” she muttered, sipping the rest of her wine.

She read the boys a story while Harry and Ron tried desperately to remove their new afflictions. As the book concluded, they both begged her to remove her enchantments. 

“Nah,” she said, hugging them both. “I’ve got to head home. George should be able to sort you out though, he taught me both of those spells.”

“You’re evil, Hermione,” Ron said. 

***

Friday evening found Potter, Granger, and the twins back at Pansy’s cottage for dinner.

After they ate, the boys began a very loud, imaginative game of Dragon Hunters, which involved them waving sticks at a chair (which Scorpius had declared was a dragon named Bob) and yelling gibberish, then running away screaming about fire. 

The adults looked on with amusement, after Pansy cast a handy noise-dampening spell and poured them all libations.

”I need to get these guys to bed,” Potter finally said, finishing his wine and stretching. “And me. I need to get me to bed.”

“Do you need any help?” Granger asked, half-rising.

“I’ve got it covered tonight, thanks,” he said, waving her off. “Put yourself to good use and help Malfoy and Pansy finish that bottle of wine. I’ll owl you tomorrow.”

All three boys protested the end of their play date, but the twins dutifully followed their father through the Floo, and Scorpius headed upstairs to call Nana and brush his teeth.

”I’ll put him to bed,” Pansy said. “I’m turning in myself.”

”Thanks, Pans, goodnight,” Draco said. He poured himself and Granger new glasses of wine.

“Kids are loud,” he said, grinning wryly at her. “I can feel my pulse in my ears.”

“They’re great kids, though,” Granger sipped her wine. “Wonderful imaginations.”

“Scorp is so obsessed with dragons lately,” Draco sighed. “I wonder if staring at this his whole life has anything to do with it.”

He indicated the large fire-breathing dragon that took up most of his left forearm.

“I would assume so,” she said. “You’re his hero, your name means dragon and you have a dragon on your arm. He probably thinks that dragons are the coolest thing in the world.”

“I’m his hero?” Draco asked, startled.

“Clearly,” she said emphatically. “What kid doesn’t want the cool, young, tattooed dad instead of an old fuddy-duddy?”

Draco felt himself reddening, and turned away a bit.

“Tell me about your tattoos,” Granger said, settling into the sofa with her wine.

Draco sat next to her. 

“Let’s see…there’s a lot of them,” he grinned wryly. “I went through a bit of a phase when Victoria died.”

He rolled up the left sleeve of his button-down to the elbow. 

“The dragon was first,” he indicated the largest tattoo, covering much of his inner arm, fire crawling past his sleeve and towards his bicep.

“Top priority was to cover the Dark Mark, I got the dragon right after school. I went a bit cliche, my mum always called me her dragon. Then here, these numbers are my birthday, the day I started at Hogwarts, the date of the final battle, the date Lucius went to Azkaban, the day I married Victoria, and Scorp’s birthday. You know, important dates. See how they kind of wind around the other tattoos? I can add more dates as they seem significant. There’s the Slytherin seal, this is a narcissus bird, that’s for my mum. There’s a snitch, I was drunk for that one, Pansy’s idea. Oh, but I do have a broomstick here, I like that one a lot, but I can only see it in the mirror.”

Without thinking, he unbuttoned his shirt and removed it, and showed her the back of his upper arm.

“Here’s the rune for change. This one means strength.”

“What’s this one?” She asked, running her finger over a small red tattoo that she could only see half of.

He twisted his arm so she could see the whole thing.

“Oh, a crab,” she said.

“For Vincent Crabbe,” he said quietly. “I know he wasn’t the best person, but he was my friend and I watched him die. I wanted to remember him.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” she said. “I’m sure that was an incredibly painful experience, and you have the right to feel that.”

“I also have a phoenix tattooed on my back,” he twisted so she could see. It was a huge tattoo, covering most of his upper back, wings stretching onto his shoulders. 

“Kind of corny, rising from the ashes and rebirth and stuff. But it’s my favorite tattoo, and putting a phoenix on me felt like a real ‘fuck you’ to Voldemort.”

He liked that she didn’t flinch at the name. Even he still flinched sometimes, if he wasn’t expecting it. He turned back to face her, and noticed her gazing at his chest.

“So many scars,” she whispered.

Draco really wished people would notice his pectoral muscles, (which he worked very hard on) before focusing on the myriad of scars that marred his chest. 

“Yes, well, I can thank Potter for most of them,” he said, shrugging his shirt back on his arms.

“These are the Draco and Scorpius constellations?” She gently touched the back of each of his hands.

“Yeah,” he said. “How about you, Granger? Any ink?”

She pushed up her left sleeve. He gazed at her arm, awestruck. 

He knew what should be on that arm. The jagged, cruel letters his aunt had carved into her skin. But instead, it was beautiful.

Delicately scripted letters were surrounded by tiny lions, books, lilies, wands, owls, runes, cats, quills, stags, dogs, music notes, and stars. Vivid colors from all over the rainbow popped against her pale skin, blending like watercolor. The letters spelled ‘Muggleborn’.

“That is gorgeous,” he said. “The colors are incredible.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I figured I would correct what Bellatrix did with something that made me feel pretty.”

“Who’s your artist?” He asked.

“Blaise Zabini,” she replied.

“Blaise?” He asked incredulously. “Pansy told me he opened up a tattoo parlor, but I had no idea he was any good. I’m definitely going to him for my next one.”

“I liked the idea of a pureblood Slytherin inking that particular tattoo. I feel like Bellatrix would’ve fucking hated that I had a pureblood cover up her handy work.”

“You’re brave,” he said bluntly. “You never back down, do you?”

“Nope,” she smirked. “I’m rather a pain in the arse.”

He chuckled.

“Any more tattoos?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I always forget about this little guy,” she said, twisting and lifting up the bottom of her shirt, revealing a small silhouette of an otter on her lower back.

“It’s my Patronus, an otter,” she explained, as he tried to pretend he hadn’t seen the top of her knickers, which definitely appeared to be a thong. 

“Luna and I got Patronus tattoos a few years ago on a whim.”

“It’s cute,” he said. “Fitting.”

“What’s your Patronus?” She asked, refilling their wine.

“No idea,” he said. “I’ve never tried to conjure one.”

“Wanna learn?” She asked.

“It’s supposed to be really difficult,” he said uncertainly. 

“Good thing you’re an exceptional wizard, then,” she smiled at him.

“I could try,” he shrugged, blushing a bit.

He noticed her notice his still-unbuttoned shirt. He tried not to think about her thong.

“Show me how,” he said.

Granger straightened and pulled her wand.

“Expecto Patronum,” she said, performing a complicated wand movement. A little silver otter burst forth and trotted to her.

“Ok, wand movement first,” he said, furrowing his brows.

She demonstrated again, and they practiced several times until his form was acceptable. He summoned another bottle of wine, and took a thoughtful drink.

“So what’s the trick, Granger?” He asked as she finished her glass and he refilled it.

“You have to pull the power from your happiest memory,” she said. “It takes some trial and error to find the right memory.”

“What’s yours?” He asked, expecting her to balk at the incredibly personal question.

“Finding out I was a witch,” she said. 

“What was that like?” He asked, truly curious. He had known he was a wizard since the moment he was born. 

“I was an odd child,” she sighed, taking a long drink.

“I didn’t have any friends, and strange things always happened around me. I thought there was something wrong with me. But then I turned eleven and McGonagall came to my house and I just knew.”

“Knew?”

“Knew that I had a place in the world. There wasn’t anything wrong with me, I was powerful. I was going someplace where I belonged. It was the best day of my life.”

Draco practiced the Patronus charm for forty-five minutes as he and Granger drank wine and  chatted.

She’s a good teacher, he thought to himself idly as he practiced the charm. She’ll do great at Hogwarts. Scorp will be lucky to have her as a teacher in a few years. He’s lucky to have her as a…friend?…now. I’m lucky. We’re both lucky.

It was at this moment that a silver ferret burst from his wand. Draco stared at it with mixed awe and horror.

He heard Granger attempt to stifle giggles next to him, and he turned on her quickly.

“Don’t ever,” he growled. “Tell Potter that my Patronus is a fucking ferret.”

Hermione dissolved into such raucous peals of laughter that Pansy awoke, and trudged down the stairs to check on the commotion.

Through gasps and tears, Granger told Pansy exactly what had just transpired, which lead to Pansy and Granger clutching at each other on the couch, positively rolling with mirth. Draco huffed, flipped them both off, and went to bed.

The next two weeks flew by. The boys wanted to see each other every waking moment, and so most evenings were spent with shared dinners and bottles of wine while the boys played.

This particular Wednesday found the Malfoys and Parkinson at Grimmauld Place. Everyone gathered in the sitting room as the boys played a rowdy game of Exploding Snap.

“Potter, your back garden looks lovely. What are those purple climbing flowers on the gate?” Parkinson asked, gazing out the window.

“I have literally no idea,” Harry admitted. “Neville took one look at the garden a few years back and insisted on ‘fixing it up.’ All his handiwork. Would you like to take a look around?” 

He led Parkinson out of the back door, glancing at her nervously. He had been wanting to get her alone for weeks, but now that the opportunity arose, he didn’t know what to say.

“These are just gorgeous,” Pansy admired the climbing flowers. “Would you mind asking Longbottom about them, I would love to plant some.”

“I will, I’m seeing him next week. You garden?”

“Not as well as Longbottom, I’m afraid, but yes,” Pansy said, smelling a daffodil. “After my divorce, I forced myself to undertake a few hobbies.”

“What other hobbies did you start?”

“I took up knitting for a bit, but I found it boring. I write, sometimes. I practice the piano every day. And I’ve been learning a lot about healing magic lately. But honestly, I’ve been bored. Until Draco and Scorpius moved in, I was really lonely.”

“Would you like to go out sometime?” Harry asked abruptly.

“What?” Pansy asked, glancing up from the daffodils.

“Like a…like a date. Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?” He held his breath. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she smiled shyly at him.

“Also, I’d really like to kiss you, but I know I should probably take you on a date before I do that. It’s traditional and all - ”

“Is that all that’s stopping you from kissing me?” She asked. “I’ve been dropping hints for days.”

With that, she placed her arms around his neck, stood on her tip toes, and kissed him.

***

“Malfoy,” Hermione whispered so the boys wouldn’t hear. “Malfoy, get over here.”

He approached the window she was gazing out of, as she motioned frantically.

“Look!” She pointed out to the gardens, where their friends were fully snogging against a tree.

“Saw that coming,” Draco laughed.

“I was wondering when Harry would gather up the courage,” she smiled. 

“What do you say we offer to watch the twins tonight, so those two can get to know each other better…and I don’t have to watch,” Draco said.

“Great idea,” she affirmed.

Several minutes later, Harry and Parkinson returned, a little disheveled and both blushing.

“Hey, Potter, how would the boys like to have a sleepover with Scorpius tonight?” Draco smirked at him.

“I’ll go over there too and help,” Hermione offered. “Why don’t you two take a night off?”

Harry rolled his eyes at the smug, knowing look she was giving him.

“Saw that, did you?” He asked her. She nodded, smirking at him.

They all agreed to the evening’s plans, and Pansy departed quickly to prepare for the date. Malfoy, Hermione and the three boys soon followed.

Upon entering the cottage, Hermione was immediately accosted by Parkinson.

“Draco, you’re going to have to watch the kids for a bit, I need Granger’s help,” Pansy said frantically, dragging Hermione to her bedroom.

The entire contents of Parkinson’s wardrobe had been flung onto her bed, and she stood helplessly in the middle of her room, staring at it.

“What should I wear?” She whined. 

“Those black wide-legged trousers you wore last week,” Hermione said decisively. “Harry could not stop staring at your arse.”

Parkinson giggled.

“And on top?” She asked.

”Depends,” Hermione considered, arching a brow. “How well do you want this date to go?”

“Really well,” the other witch replied. “Like, he-makes-me-breakfast-tomorrow-morning well.”

“Then cleavage,” Hermione winked. “And you look nice in jewel tones.”

Parkinson dug for a minute, then emerged with a violet wrap top with a daring neckline. She held it up for Hermione to inspect.

“Perfect,” Hermione stated. “And leave your hair down tonight, he likes your hair a lot.”

“He does?” Parkinson asked nervously, smoothing her mane in the mirror.

“He seems to like everything about you,” Hermione said reassuringly. “But he has mentioned your hair specifically.”

“I can’t believe I’m going on a date with Harry Potter,” Parkinson said. 

Their eyes met in the mirror.

“He’s just Harry,” Hermione said softly. “I’m sure it’s a little intimidating, him being the Chosen One and all. But at the end of the day, he’s just a bloke like any other bloke. No, strike that, he’s a great guy, better than most. But not because he’s The Boy Who Lived. Because he’s the most selfless, brave, kindhearted person I know. If you’re going to be with Harry, please promise me that you’ll appreciate him as a man, not an idea, Parkinson. He deserves that after everything he’s been through.”

“I will,” Parkinson said. “I like who he is. And we’re friends now, Hermione. You can call me Pansy.”

“Ok, Pansy,” Hermione smiled. “Now you get yourself ready and I’m going to make sure Malfoy is still alive downstairs.”

***

Hermione and Malfoy were enjoying tea the following morning when Pansy arrived home.

“Nice Gryffindor Quidditch jersey,” Malfoy smirked at her. 

“Shush,” Pansy admonished cheerfully. “I’m just borrowing it.”

“I’m going to round up the twins and take them home to their - I assume very satisfied - father,” Hermione teased. Pansy stuck her tongue out at her.

Hermione found her best friend sitting on the sofa, a pleased but dazed look on his face. He hugged the boys and grinned at Hermione.

“She’s incredible,” he whispered to her as the boys chattered loudly. “We’re together.”

“I’m happy for you, Harry,” she said.

“So when are you and Malfoy getting together?” He asked slyly.

“Never going to happen, twat,” she elbowed him in the ribs. 

For the next three weeks, they all saw each other almost every evening, Hermione and Malfoy watching all three boys occasionally so that Harry and Pansy could spend some time alone.

***

Harry and the twins arrived unexpectedly at Hermione’s flat on Saturday morning. She offered Harry tea and told the boys they could watch telly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, noting his expression.

“Robards is sending me on a mission in Belgium,” he sighed. “Fugitive apprehension.”

“When do you have to leave?” Hermione asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “God, I should’ve quit months ago. This is it, though. I told Robards this is my last mission. There is simply no way to be an Auror and a single parent. Things will be so much easier when we get to Hogwarts.”

“Do you want the boys to stay here, or shall I stay at yours until you return?” She asked.

“I was going to see if Ron and Daphne could take them,” Harry said. “You watched them the last time I had to go abroad.”

“I’ll watch them every time,” she said firmly. “I’m not working right now, Ron and Daph are busy. The boys and I will have fun.”

“You really are the best aunt I could’ve asked for the boys,” Harry said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” she smiled at him. “You, James, and Sirius are stuck with me.”

“Sirius, James,” he called, and they came running. “How would you like to stay with Aunt Hermione for a few days while I’m at work?”

The boys cheered, then Sirius’ face fell.

“You’re coming back, right?” He asked solemnly. “Not like Mummy?”

Harry crushed his son in a hug.

“I’ll always come back, Sirius,” he said in a choked voice, pulling James into the embrace. “It will only be a few days.”

“Can we still go to the park with Scorpius tomorrow?” James asked.

Harry looked at Hermione, who shrugged and nodded.

”Yeah, buddies, you can see Scorpius. I’ll let Malfoy know of the change in plans,” Harry said.

***

Harry broke the news of his departure to Pansy gently, bringing her flowers and a candied apple, then explaining his mission.

“This feels pathetic to say after just a few weeks, but I really don’t want you to go,” Pansy admitted.

“I don’t want to go,” Harry said. “I like seeing you every day.”

“This thing between us,” she started. “It’s real, right?”

“It’s real and it’s…big,” he said. “Does that make sense?”

“It does,” Pansy said. “It feels big.”

”I’ll be back soon,” he promised.

“Is it ok if I drop in on Hermione and the boys while you’re away?” She asked. “I’ll miss James and Sirius almost as much as I’ll miss you.”

What followed was the most breathtaking, heartstopping kiss of her life. She took that as a ‘yes.’

Draco bit back laughter as Granger, Sirius, and James approached at the park the following day. Granger’s hair was an enormous nest of snarls, her face was free of makeup, her cardigan was buttoned unevenly, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in a week.

“Sorry we’re a bit late,” she huffed as she walked up, accepting an enthusiastic hug from Scorpius. “Sirius hid my wand and James lost one of his shoes. How did his shoe end up on top of the refrigerator? I’ll never know.”

”Accidental magic?” Draco suggested.

“Could be,” she mused. “Sirius has shown a bit in the last few months, maybe James is starting to as well.”

“So, rough morning?” He asked.

“There’s two of them,” she said in a slightly panicked voice. “It doesn’t sound like that many kids, but in reality, it’s so many kids.”

“Well, why don’t you three come over tonight? Another sleepover? You can take the guest room.” He said. “Three adults versus three kids sounds manageable.”

“I would love that,” she said. “I’m sure the boys will too.”

“Pans will be thrilled,” he said. “She started moping the moment Potter said he was leaving town. The boys will cheer her up.”

“There’s really something between them, isn’t there?” Granger asked.

“Definitely,” Draco confirmed. “I’ve never seen Pansy all swoony and smiley like this before. It’s disturbing.”

“Harry’s in a better mood than I’ve seen him in years,” Granger noted. “He seems relaxed around Pansy, and the man is rarely relaxed.”

“Aunt Mione, there’s a bee!” Sirius screeched from the slide. 

The other two boys screamed and scattered, as Draco tried to round them up and Granger sent the world’s lightest stunning spell at the offending bug. She scooped Sirius up onto her hip and reassured him.

***

After dinner, bedtime stories, and goodnights with the boys, Hermione and Malfoy sank onto the sofa with exhaustion. Pansy had taken her leave after pudding, out for a girls’ night with the Greengrass sisters.

“How is it humanly possible for all three of them to have that much energy?” Malfoy inquired. “Are they sapping it directly from the adults in the vicinity?”

“That’s actually an interesting theory,” Granger replied. “That is certainly what it feels like.”

“Wine?” He offered, waving his wand.

“Please,” she smiled. “Though not too much. I can’t imagine trying to get through tomorrow with a hangover.”

“Big plans?” He asked, pouring two glasses.

She sighed.

“Harry always takes the twins to see Molly and Arthur Weasley on Tuesday afternoons. I agreed to take them this week. I’m dreading it.”

“Why? Aren’t you an honorary Weasley?”

“To most of them, yes,” she said, tucking herself into the corner of the sofa. “Arthur always treats me as family, and the brothers are good to me.”

“Ah, the terrifying matriarch then,” he nodded wisely.

“She still blames me for breaking up with Ron, but we got along fine for years. Then when Ginny ran off with Oliver, she somehow blamed me again,” Granger said.

“Based on what logic?” 

“If I had married Oliver, instead of living with him like a ‘scarlet woman,’ he wouldn’t have gone looking for happiness elsewhere. Apparently I’m just too much of a modern whore to be a Weasley in her eyes,” she glared, and then rolled her eyes.

“Fuck her, then,” Malfoy said scathingly. “No blame for her own daughter?”

“She really did have to twist her brain a bit to find both Ginny and her perfect little Harry blameless. I’m a convenient target. Arthur won’t let her say anything rude when I’m around, but she glares the whole time.”

They both contemplated in silence for a few moments.

“But, regardless, she’s their grandmother. They already lost their mum, I’m not going to deprive them of the most important woman in their lives.”

“Second most important,” Malfoy corrected.

She raised her eyebrows.

“You’re practically raising them, Aunt Mione,” he smirked at her. “They adore you and depend on you. She’s just a nutter who sees them once a week.”

“Thanks, Malfoy, I needed to hear that,” she sniffled.

She stretched and then winced as pain shot through her upper back.

“Are you alright?” Malfoy asked, noting her expression.

“The third round of piggyback rides was a bad idea,” she confessed. “My back is killing me.”

”Turn around,” he said firmly. “I give excellent back rubs.”

She eyed him skeptically, then rearranged herself in front of him.

“Where does it hurt?” He asked, not yet touching her.

“Here,” she said, indicating a spot between her shoulder blades.

Her nipples hardened immediately when she felt his large, warm hands begin rubbing her back. How long has it been since a man touched her? Too long. She took a shaky breath.

“This ok?” He asked quietly, his thumbs dipping under her shirt just slightly to better reach her pain.

“Yes,” she relied in what could only be described as a breathy moan. She blushed crimson.

She heard him exhale deeply, and felt his breath on her neck. His hands moved to her shoulders, and he seemed much closer to her than before.

His hands hit a particularly good spot, and she moaned again. His hands stilled.

She turned her head to look at him. He was flushed.

”Sorry, just collecting myself,” he said, lips close to her ear. “I haven’t made a woman moan in quite awhile.”

She chuckled nervously.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” he murmured, still speaking directly into her ear. “I can’t say I object.”

He began rubbing her shoulders again, which must have been difficult, as her back was almost fully pressed against his front now. His breath was a steady presence on her bare neck and it sent goosebumps racing all over her body.

“Cold?” He asked, running his hands down both of her arms.

“No, it’s not that…” she whispered.

Then she felt his lips on her neck, just the lightest touch. Another moan escaped her.

Malfoy pressed his lips more firmly onto her neck, then trailed a line of kisses down to her shoulder.

“Is this ok?” He whispered again.

Hermione at first only moaned in response, pressing herself closer to him. He remained still, apparently wanting verbal confirmation.

“Yes, yes, it’s good,” she choked out.

He smirked against her shoulder, then began rubbing her back and leaving feather light kisses on her neck, her shoulders, her ears.

When he dragged his tongue up her upper spine, ending at her hairline, her toes curled. She reached her hand back and ran her fingers through his hair, eliciting a throaty growl from Malfoy. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

His lips were now attacking her neck with fervor as she gripped her fingers in his hair. Both were breathing raggedly, moans escaping randomly.

“Granger,” Malfoy rasped into her ear. “Do you want to - ”

”Daddy,” they heard Scorpius yell from upstairs. “I had a bad dream!”

“Fuck,” Draco groaned. He quickly cradled Hermione’s chin in his hand, turned her head, and captured her lips in a brief but searing kiss. Then he disentangled himself and rushed upstairs to his son.

Hermione tried to catch her breath, a hand on her heaving chest. Holy shit, what was that?

***

After Scorpius had been put back to bed, Draco joined Granger on the sitting room sofa, where she was clutching her refilled wine glass.

“Hi,” she said rather shyly.

“Hello,” he grinned at her. “I suppose we should talk.”

“Or…” she bit her lip. “You could kiss me again and we could talk about it later.”

He chuckled and pushed a curl out of her face.

“You have the best ideas,” he muttered, leaning in to capture her lips again.

In a tangle of limbs and lips, they fell back into the sofa. For long minutes, they kissed furiously, hands exploring over clothes, groans and gasps elicited as they found what they liked. 

Eventually, Granger was on her back, with Draco on top of her. They barely came up for air as they pressed against each other.

They broke apart suddenly as they heard someone clear their throat. Whipping around, Draco saw a head in his floo.

“Mum!” He exclaimed. Granger quickly removed his hand from her breast and he sat up hastily. Granger sat as well, straightening her blouse and patting her hair. Thank Merlin they hadn’t removed any clothing.

“Hello, Draco, Miss Granger,” Narcissa said, smirking just a little. “I’m sorry to interrupt your evening. I was just wondering if Scorpius would like to spend tomorrow afternoon with me.”

“Um, yeah, sure, that’s fine,” Draco said, still breathing hard. 

“I could keep him overnight,” Narcissa offered casually. “You could take Miss Granger out on a real date, instead of groping her like a teenager on the sofa.”

“Mum,” he grumbled. “Stop.”

“I’ll bring him back Thursday morning,” Narcissa replied. “You two enjoy your date.”

She winked at her son and disappeared.

“Meddling witch,” he grumbled under his breath. “I'm sorry, Granger.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she said, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Where are you taking me tomorrow night?”

“You want to go on an actual date with me?” He asked. 

“Yeah, I like you,” she said simply. “I wouldn’t have ‘groped you like a teenager on the sofa’ if I didn’t like you. I’d like to go on a date, if you want to.”

“Ok, I’d like that, too,” he said, kissing her and pulling her into his lap. “Just a warning though, I haven’t been on a date in years. No idea what im doing.”

“That long?” She asked.

“I tried a couple of times when Scorp was about two. Pansy insisted that I try. Both dates went terribly, I wasn’t ready yet.”

“Are you ready now?” She inquired.

“Yeah,” he said definitively. “Im ready.”

“I’m going to turn in,” she said, rising from his lap. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Draco stared after her for several minutes. He couldn’t decide if he was being an idiot or a genius in this situation, dating Hermione Granger. After long contemplation, he decided her didn’t much care. He wanted to date Hermione Granger. So he was going to.

***

Hermione received an owl from Harry late the next morning, as she was making a snack for the twins at Grimmauld Place. 

Hermione, 

Mission accomplished, I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Thanks again for helping the last few days.

Pansy told me you’re going out with Malfoy tonight. I already asked Ron, he’ll take the twins overnight. Don’t try to use them as an excuse, you’re going on this date. Put on a pretty dress, stop worrying, and have fun.

Tell James and Sirius I love them and I bought them Belgian chocolates.

Love, Harry

P.S. Yes, obviously I bought you chocolate, too.

Hermione grinned at the parchment. Lovely Harry. Gossipy Pansy. 

She dropped the twins off at ‘Greengrass-Weasley Estates,’ the small townhome that Ron and Daphne were renting. Daphne had strongly discouraged the ridiculous name, but had stopped objecting to it after her husband suggested ‘Emperor Ron’s Palace.’

“You could just call it ‘my place’ or ‘our townhouse,’ dear,” Daphne would remind him.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ron would argue, kissing her on the cheek. “All good homes have a name.”

As Sirius and James attacked their favorite uncle, Hermione pulled Daphne aside.

“How do I look?” She hissed.

“Beautiful, as always,” Daphne replied. “I love that lip color on you. So, who is the mystery man?”

Hermione was surprised.

“Harry didn’t tell you guys?”

“He just said you had a date,” Daphne said.

“Oh…” Hermione said, biting her lip. “Would you mind terribly if I don’t tell you yet? I want to see how tonight goes.”

“Of course I don’t mind, it’s your business,” Daphne said firmly. “But do tell Draco I said hello.”

Hermione laughed. 

“That obvious?” She asked.

“In the scant seconds that Pansy wasn’t mooning over Harry last night, she mentioned several times that she thinks you two should get together. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Ron until you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Daph,” Hermione said. “I should be off, thank you again.

She squeezed the boys tightly, then set them loose again on their uncle.

Hermione arrived at Pansy’s cottage for her date exactly on time. Pansy greeted her with a large, gloating smile.

“I knew this was going to happen,” she crowed happily.

Draco appeared on the second floor landing as the witches entered the foyer.

“Hi Granger, I’ll be down in just a moment,” he said, his hair still damp from his shower. “Pansy, will you pour her a glass of wine, please?”

“What are you doing tonight?” Hermione asked as the other witch uncorked a bottle of Merlot.

”Biweekly dinner with my mother,” Pansy wrinkled her nose. “An opportunity for Lady Parkinson to outline all of my faults and disappointments over brandy and over-cooked chicken.”

“Faults and disappointments?” Hermione asked.

“Divorced, too thin but with a prominent bum, lank hair, too stupid, no children, not proper enough, living with a man, no appropriate social connections,” Pansy rattled off.

“Sounds miserable,” Hermione sipped her wine.

“It is,” Pansy said with sparkling eyes. “But tonight after her third brandy, right when she’s hitting her stride about how ashamed she is of me, I’m going to tell her I’m dating Harry. Her face is going to be classic. Her loser daughter dating the most eligible bachelor in Britain.”

“Sorry again,” Malfoy said as he entered the kitchen. “I got a bit of a late start, Scorp was being difficult about going to Nana’s.”

“I refuse to believe it, Scorp is never difficult,” Hermione teased.

Pansy snorted.

“He was excited to go to my mum’s, until Pansy let slip that his Granger was coming over. He wanted to stay and play with you,” Malfoy explained.

“Well, if I don’t leave now, I’ll be late,” Pansy said, offering her almost-full wine glass to Malfoy. “Time to face the old cow. Have fun tonight, and please don’t exchange any bodily fluids on my furniture.”

“Go away,” Malfoy said, pushing her towards the floo.

“It’s my house, arse,” she laughingly objected.

“Out,” Malfoy insisted, smirking at her and pointing at the hearth.

As she exited, Malfoy turned back to Hermione.

“We have time before our dinner reservation, shall we finish our wine?” He asked.

“Sure,” she said, topping them both off. He chuckled and his eyes grew hot as she winked at him.

“You look…phenomenal,” he finally said, appreciating the flower-patterned sun dress she wore.

“Well, you mostly see me around the boys, so you’re used to denims and food stains,” she quipped, flushing. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

“I’m glad we decided to go casual,” he said. “This is much better than dress robes.”

He motioned to his denims and button-down.

“Although my mother will be horrified that I didn’t take you to some hideously expensive French restaurant,” he admitted.

She giggled and he took a step closer to her. 

“I’m having a difficult time not kissing you right now,” he said, reaching for her wrist and tugging her just slightly towards him.

“I don’t want to cause you any difficulties,” she said with a grin.

He tugged again and she was in his arms, and he dropped his head down to kiss her.

It was a sweet kiss at first. After a moment, though, the intensity increased. Within minutes they had picked up where they left off the night before. Effortlessly, Malfoy lifted her onto the kitchen counter and stepped between her thighs.

“Malfoy,” Hermione gasped after a quarter hour of snogging. “Our reservations.”

“Not hungry,” he murmured into her hair. “You?”

“Food is the last thing I’m thinking about right now,” she said as he began unzipping the back of her dress.

“Oh?” He pulled back slightly with a teasing tone. “And what are you thinking about?”

“What you look like naked,” she said.

He dropped his head to her shoulder and laughed. 

“Fucking hell, I like you,” he said sincerely. 

He kissed her with renewed enthusiasm, his fingers fumbling with her zipper, her hands unbuttoning his shirt. He finally managed to slip the dress’ straps off of her shoulders as she began to work on his belt.

“Wait,” he said in a strangled voice. “Not on Pansy’s furniture, she was very clear about that.”

Hermione paused.

“Is the counter furniture?” She mused. 

“I promise you that Pansy won’t care about the distinction. Come with me.”

He led her by the hand to his bedroom, her other hand clutching at her unzipped dress. It made walking a bit clumsy, especially because Malfoy stopped every few steps to press her against the wall and kiss her senseless.

They made it to his room and he started kissing her again, not even bothering to close the door. He sat against his headboard and pulled her into his lap, so she was straddling him. Then he pulled her down for a long, lingering kiss. 

He slowly pushed her dress back off of her shoulders, letting it pool around her waist.

His eyes grew wide.

”I was expecting a bra,” he chuckled. “It’s my lucky day.”

“Can’t wear one with this dress,” she sighed, as he took a nipple into his mouth. 

“Wear this dress all the time, then,” he murmured, moving to her other breast.

She made quick work of removing his shirt, then again fumbled with his buckle. Before she could undo his belt, he wrapped an arm around her waist and flipped them over.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said, nibbling on her ear. “I’m enjoying myself plenty.”

“As am I,” she said, palming his cock through his trousers. He moaned. 

“But I, for one, think we can get a bit more enjoyment out of this evening,” she said, stroking him and eliciting another moan.

“I agree,” he said, pulling her dress down her legs and tossing it aside. He stood and removed his denims, then climbed back on top of her.

It wasn’t long before they were tentatively touching under their last scraps of clothing. As Malfoy’s fingers found her clit, Hermione lost patience and shoved his pants down. He responded in kind.

Once they were naked, neither seemed very interested in foreplay any longer. 

“Is this ok?” He asked as he lined his dick up with her entrance.

“Fuck, yes, of course,” she panted.

He kissed her passionately as he slowly pushed forward. She moaned against his lips as he filled her pussy, and he took a second to brace himself.

She gave him a burning look and angled her hips so that he could sink in even further.

“Fuck, Granger,” he let go a strangled whisper. He leaned down and kissed her hard before beginning to move.

He started slow, taking his time and savoring every sensation, every gasp, every moan. He picked up his pace as Granger scraped her nails down his back and her breathing became ragged.

“Are you close, Granger?” He muttered as he reached both hands underneath them and squeezed her arse. She squealed and threw her head back.

“Yes…yes, I’m close,” she whined.

“What do you need?” He rasped.

“Let me get on top,” she moaned as he licked her collarbone. He quickly flipped them over, and laid on his back, smirking at her.

Granger straddled him and lowered her cunt onto his cock. She placed her hands on his chest and began to tentatively move above him.

“Touch me,” she demanded as she picked up speed.

Draco dropped one hand between her legs and used his other to play with her nipples. He explored her cunt until he located her clit, then started a lazy circular pressure. Granger shivered above him.

“Faster,” she gasped as her eyelids fluttered. She was sweaty and undone, her hair absolutely everywhere and her body moving in a stuttering fashion.

“Oh, yes, right there,” she moaned. “Don’t stop, I’m so close.”

She moved faster still, bouncing up and down on him. She was extraordinary. 

“That’s it, Granger, let go,” he whispered through gritted teeth. Maintaining his own control was sapping his willpower. But he would hold back until he got her off. He needed to feel her lose control.

“Cum on my prick, Granger,” he commanded in a low growl. 

And she did, curling her nails painfully into his chest, seated firmly on his cock. He felt her cunt fluttering around him, and twisted her nipple as he felt a gush of wetness.

“Malfoy,” she moaned as she finished, dropping her head to his shoulder.

“Draco,” he corrected, as he turned them both over, regaining his position on top. “Call me Draco when I’m inside of you.”

He set a punishing pace as the woman below him regained a bit of her composure and started moving beneath him. His pursuit of his own pleasure was causing explosions behind his eyes. He had never, ever, felt the things he was feeling at this moment.

Granger grabbed the back of his head and kissed him soundly, her other hand grasping his arse and pulling him into her. 

“Draco,” she gasped. “Yes…feels so good…so big…came so hard…keep going…yes, yes, Draco.”

Hearing his given name falling from her swollen lips is what did him in. Burying his face in her shoulder, he snapped his hips three times forcefully before thrusting into her fully and letting his cock explode.

“Granger,” he hissed as he collapsed on top of her.

They laid like that silently for a few minutes, until Draco groaned reluctantly and flopped onto his back next to her. He reached for his wand and touched it to her abdomen, performing the birth control charm. Then he scourgified both of them and dropped the wand at his side. Granger was staring at the ceiling with a bemused smile on her lips.

“At the risk of sounding like a lazy stereotype of a woman, whatcha thinking about?” He asked, running a finger between her breasts and down to her stomach, where he traced circles around her belly button.

“How long it’s been since I’ve had an orgasm that I didn’t have to give myself,” she admitted, carding her fingers through his hair.

“If I hadn’t just cum, that statement would have me hard as a rock,” he admitted, kissing her lightly.

“And, um, likewise,” he admitted. “It’s been entirely too long. I had to wank twice today in hopes of lasting more than four seconds.”

“Good planning,” she chuckled. “Does that mean you don’t need a second round?”

He stared at her for several moments, then burst into laughter. 

“I will definitely be up for a second round,” he kissed her tits enthusiastically. “But give me just a moment.”

She responded by kissing him, tossing a leg across his waist, and tugging at his chest hair. He sank into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered as she nibbled on his ear. “The sexiest witch I’ve ever seen.”

She kissed him lazily, both of their hands roaming as they learned each other’s bodies. Draco mentally catalogued her reactions to his touches (neck and waist extremely sensitive, back of knees ticklish, possible obsession with his chest hair, liked having her arse squeezed) as he steadily grew more aroused.

Eventually he ground his cock into her hip, showing her that he was becoming ready for her again. She gave him a devious look and then scooted down so she was kneeling between his legs.

“I noticed you call me Granger, even though you want to be called Draco,” she smirked.

“You’ll always be Granger to me, Granger,” he teased.

“I bet I could convince you to call me Hermione,” she crooked an eyebrow at him. She slowly, painstakingly leaned down and licked his cock from base to tip. He made a sound he was certain he had never made before.

“Call me Hermione,” she said, swirling her tongue around the head of his dick.

“No,” he said firmly, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” she murmured, taking just the tip of him into her mouth and sucking hard. He grabbed a hunk of her hair and whined out a breath.

“Absolutely not, Granger,” he managed to articulate. 

She gave him a challenging look, then dropped her head and took as much as she could into her mouth. He hit the back of her throat, then met her eyes. Even with his prick in her mouth, it was clear who was in charge here.

“Yes, Granger, suck my cock,” he moaned, his head falling back onto the pillows.

“Hermione,” she insisted, popping off of his cock and replacing her mouth with her hand.

“Granger,” he moaned as her hand increased its speed. 

“Call me Hermione,” she demanded, rubbing her thumb over his slit and spreading his pre-cum all over the head.

“Granger,” his voice was almost inaudible.

She lowered her head again, and began to suck him in earnest, using her hand as an expert supplement. He was writhing underneath her, bucking his hips to meet her ministrations.

“I need to be inside of you, now,” he groaned. “Please, Hermione.”

Grinning triumphantly, she sat up. 

“Turn around,” he rasped. “Grab the headboard.”

She complied, and he got on his knees behind her, dragging his cock through her soaked folds several times.

“Please, Draco,” she moaned. He slammed into her without further invitation, making her scream.

This time was frenzied, less gentle, more demanding. He repeatedly slammed into her pussy, his fingers digging bruises into her hips. She came with a drawn out moan as he pulled her hair and emptied himself into her. 

***

They awoke several hours later to Pansy’s delighted cackle from the doorway.

“How was dinner?” She asked, crossing her arms and surveying them smugly.

“We didn’t quite make it to dinner,” Draco muttered as he made sure the blankets were arranged appropriately over their nude bodies. He tugged Granger close and kissed her hair.

“You must be starving,” Pansy teased. “All of that physical activity with empty stomachs? There’s Shepard’s Pie in the fridge, why don’t I pop that in the oven for you? Then I’ll go straight to my room and put up a strong silencing charm. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, Pansy,” Granger said. “How did your mum take the news about Harry?”

“She actually smiled, and seemed happy for a moment,” Pansy replied. “But then she started listing off all of the ways I’ll bugger it up. So, as expected.”

Draco finally let go of Granger when the oven timer chimed. They got partially dressed and settled in at the dining room table over Shepard’s Pie and wine. There was some conversation, but mostly burning looks and footsie occupied their attention. 

After they ate, they snuggled on the sitting room sofa with their wine.

“I’m sorry we didn’t go on our date,” Draco said, running his fingers over her tattoo. “I guess I lost my mind a little bit.”

“I don’t mind,” Granger said, resting her head on his shoulder. “Shall we try again soon? Or was this a one-time thing?”

He placed two fingers on her chin and turned her face to look at him.

“Definitely not a one-time thing,” Draco reassured her with a sweet kiss. “Let me take you on a real date without mauling you in the kitchen instead. Early next week? Scorp and I are visiting Theo in Dublin this weekend, we’re leaving tomorrow afternoon.”

“That sounds lovely,” she said, pecking his cheek. 

“Will you stay tonight?” He asked.

“Yes,” she murmured, and he kissed her again. Ten minutes later they were back in his bed, nude, and round three had begun. Draco remembered to close the door this time.

***

Hermione picked up James and Sirius from Ron the next morning, ignoring both his and Daphne’s smirks. Sure, she was wearing her dress from the night before and her hair was a disaster, but did they have to be so smug about it? At least she had remembered to glamour her love bites.

She settled the twins in front of the telly at her flat while she made herself presentable, then read them a few books before lunch. After roast beef sandwiches and carrot sticks, they headed to Grimmauld Place to await Harry’s return. 

The boys were tearing around the garden playing Dragon Hunters when Harry apparated in. He was immediately crushed in the embrace of four small arms, and gathered his boys close for several minutes. Then that got boring and the boys ran off screaming again.

“Hi there,” Harry said, hugging Hermione tight. “Have they been good?”

“They’ve been great,” she said fondly. “Exhausting, but well-behaved. And James had three accidental magic incidents.”

“Really?” Harry asked, beaming.

“Yes, but he’ll want to tell you all about them himself,” she said. “Be warned, he weaves quite a tale. He kept Malfoy captive for almost a quarter hour.”

“Speaking of Malfoy…” Harry said mischievously. “You missed a love bite.”

He poked at her neck. She swatted him away, and tried to glower, but she smiled despite herself.

“Good date?” He asked.

“Didn’t end up going, shagged instead,” she admitted, hoping her blunt response would shut him up.

It did not.

“Good for you,” he laughed. “About time. How was it?”

“Fucking incredible,” she said.

“Damn, I was really hoping Malfoy was bad in bed,” he joked. “I love when he’s bad at things.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” she rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to find another way to compete with one another.”

***

Tuesday evening, Malfoy arrived at Hermione’s flat at seven o’clock to take her on an actual date. Harry was taking all of the boys and Pansy to a movie in Muggle London. It would be Pansy and Scorpius’ first experience at the cinema, and they were very excited.

Malfoy had made reservations for he and Hermione at a Thai restaurant for 7:30. By 7:08, they were naked in her bed and he had his head buried between her legs. They made turkey sandwiches around 9, eating in front of the telly before returning to bed. 

On Thursday, Hermione made reservations for Spanish tapas, which they missed because Malfoy decided to take her frantically against the front door of Pansy’s cottage the moment he laid eyes on her. Luckily, Pansy had left a note on the counter, indicating that there was leftover chicken if they didn’t make it to dinner. Hermione made a mental note to thank her friend, as she ate her chicken around midnight and teased Malfoy’s bulge with her toes.

Draco quilled a quick owl to Granger the next morning, not even an hour after she had left his bed. He knew he was being too eager, but he couldn’t find it within himself to give a shit.

Granger,

We seem to be bad influences on one other when left alone. I would like to take you to a real dinner, fully clothed, not in the middle of the night. What do you say we meet somewhere? Avoiding our homes may be the key.

How about The Crystal Ball at 7? Owl me. Looking forward to seeing you.

- Draco

Dinner was enjoyable, and Draco managed to not picture her naked (most of the time). He only considered once (thrice) dragging her to the loo and removing her knickers with his teeth. She only stared too long at his lips five or six times. She didn’t even run a foot up his leg until the second glass of wine.

They exited the restaurant hand-in-hand, tipsy, and beaming at each other. Draco was about to ask if she wanted to pop into a bookshop, when a camera flashed in front of them. The smile slid from Granger’s face.

“The fucking press,” she grumbled. “I’m sorry, Malfoy, I should’ve thought to be more discreet. They always find me.”

In response, Draco leaned down and kissed her cheek, then turned defiant eyes to the camera, which was clicking furiously.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked quietly. 

“We haven’t discussed this - whatever this is - going public. The vultures will descend upon us,” she said with a worried expression.

“Why wouldn’t I want the world to know I’m dating the most gorgeous, intelligent witch in Britain?” He smirked fondly at her. “I’m fine with this if you are.”

“We’re dating?” She asked with her own smirk.

“I have officially squired you to a dining establishment and am about to escort you to a bookshop. I assert that I’ve taken you on a date and I plan to take you on another in the very near future. So, yes, I’d categorize this as dating.”

“Plus we’re sleeping together,” she winked at him, squeezing his hand.

“Ah, yes, another thing I plan to repeat in the very near future,” he laughed. “Now, come on, let’s buy some books.”

The Prophet the following morning screamed GRANGER AND MALFOY ROMANCE - WEDDING BELLS IN THE AIR?

***

Hermione awoke in Malfoy’s arms, and moved her hair from his face, not wanting to suffocate him.

“Ugh, I don’t want to go to work today,” he groaned. He pressed his erection into her bum cheek.

“If you start that, you’ll be late,” she chastised, twisting her head to kiss him.

“When can I see you again?” He asked as he rose from the bed. He smirked as Hermione enjoyed the view.

“You tell me,” she said, stretching. “I’m the unemployed, childless lay-about. I can work on your schedule.”

“How about Sunday?” He asked. “I want to spend most of the weekend with Scorp.”

“What’s Scorp doing today while you’re working?” She asked as she strolled past him to the loo, smacking his bum as she went. 

“He’s coming with me today,” Draco said, laying out his clothes on the bed and hanging a towel next to the shower. “He hates it, but sometimes it’s necessary.”

“Why don’t I take him today?” Granger asked. “I’m headed to Hogwarts to have tea with Hagrid, I could show him around a bit.”

Draco beamed at her.

“You may have just made that kid’s life,” he said. “He’s been begging to see Hogwarts for months.”

“You don’t mind if I’m the one who takes him, not you?” She bit her lip.

“Nope,” he dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You’re one of his favorite people on earth, he’ll love doing this with you.”

“He’s one of my favorite people on earth, too,” she said. “But I’ll let you teach him how to sneak into the kitchens at night. He’ll think you’re so cool.”

Draco responded by pulling her into the shower. He was very late to work.

***

Scorpius talked non-stop as they arrived in Hogsmeade. Hermione held his hand and nodded along patiently to all of his stories.

Scopius was frightened at his first glimpse of Hagrid (though Hermione had warned the boy that the man they were meeting was very large but very, very nice). He clutched Hermione’s hand and partially hid behind her leg.

“Hermione,” Hagrid rumbled with a wide grin. “How are ya? So good to see ya.”

“Hello, Hagrid,” she embraced him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his middle. “I’ve missed you. I hope you don’t mind, I brought along a friend.”

“More the merrier, Hermione,” Hagrid said. He crouched down as low as he could and extended an enormous hand to the boy. 

“Hagrid, this is my friend, Scorpius Malfoy,” she said. Hagrid raised his eyebrows at her, then turned his smile back to Scorpius.

“Scorpius, this is one of my oldest and dearest friends, Rubeus Hagrid,” she continued. “He’ll be your Care of Magical Creatures Professor when you come to Hogwarts. Also, he raised a baby dragon once.”

Scorpius’ eyes grew wide and he emerged from behind Hermione, reaching for Hagrid’s hand.

“I love dragons,” Scorpius said reverently as he shook hands.

“Me too,” Hagrid nodded. “Would ya like to see some photos of her? Such a beautiful girl.”

He led them into his cabin and fixed tea, then produced a very thick photo album filled with pictures of Norberta. 

“Malfoy?” Hagrid whispered when Scorpius was fully engaged in dragon photos.

“Yes, Draco’s son,” she whispered back.

“Always thought Mr. Malfoy had a sweet spot fer our Hermione,” Hagrid chuckled. “Nice to see ya feelin’ the same way.”

“Oh - oh well, it’s very new - I’m not - ” she spluttered.

“Yer a terrible liar, Hermione,” he laughed, ruffling Scorpius’ hair, which almost knocked the boy over.

The three set off across the grounds after tea. Hermione delighted in showing Scorpius the Whomping Willow, Hagrid regaled them with stories of the Giant Squid as they passed the lake, and Scorpius asked 4,672 questions. They stopped at Dumbledore’s tomb to lay flowers, and Scorpius remained mostly quiet as the adults silently paid their respects. As they walked up to the castle, Scorpius lightened the mood by declaring, “Daddy says Dumbledore was the best wizard ever, but also a big nutter.”

His companions roared with laughter, and Scorpius allowed Hagrid to hoist him onto his gigantic shoulders, squealing about how high up he was.

Scorpius met both Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey, who were having “tea” in the Headmistress’ office (it was whiskey, Hermione surmised after a rather scattered conversation. Definitely whiskey). However, Scorpius was far more impressed upon his introduction to Peeves, who sat on Hagrid’s head and pulled faces. He also marveled at the distant Quidditch pitch and chatted happily with the Fat Lady. 

Hermione delivered the exhausted boy to Malfoy that afternoon. He gratefully kissed her cheek as he gathered his sleepy son from her arms.

“When he gets his energy back, he’s going to talk your ear off,” she said. “He had quite a day.”

“Daddy,” Scorpius mumbled from his dad’s shoulder. “I love my Granger. And Peeves and Hagrid are really cool.”

“Peeves is a right pain in the…bum, my boy,” Malfoy ruffled his hair.

“Hagrid is really cool, buddy, I’m glad you liked him,” she bit her lip and glanced questioningly at Malfoy. Would it be ok if she said it? He nodded at her, his lips turning up a bit.

“And your Granger loves you too, Scorp,” she added, rubbing a hand over his little back.

***

Almost every evening of the next week was spent dining and socializing as a group of seven. However, Friday evening, Potter and Granger joined Pansy and Draco for an adults-only dinner. Daphne, saint that she was, insisted that all her ‘nephews’ (she was now claiming Scorpius as one of her own, to which no one objected) come over to bake biscuits, play games, and spend the night.

Ron had looked rather terrified at the suggestion, but nodded along with her plan. Then he had quickly owled Daphne’s sister, Astoria, and enlisted her help for the evening.

Ron had confided to Harry at work the next day that Percy had volunteered to help out as well, when word reached him that Astoria would be present.

This had resulted in Ron and Harry sending Percy dozens of teasing owls…which resulted in Percy complaining to Hermione (“You’re the only one that can boss them, wait, sorry, not that you’re bossy, I mean, sometimes you are, I suppose, but - ”)…which led to Hermione enlisting George to supply all three boys with Wheezes products for their sleepover…which ended up with Ron confiscating every item the boys had on them, then yelling at Percy to just take Astoria out to dinner already and he and Daphne could handle it. It was a whole thing.

The temporarily-child-free adults settled in Pansy’s back garden after pudding, sharing a bottle of wine and enjoying the sunset.

They were silent for awhile, savoring the peace that the lack of five-year-olds brought.

“I’m going to come out and say it,” Potter said, motioning sloppily to Draco with his glass. They had all hit the wine pretty hard both before and during dinner. “I’m glad our kids are friends.”

“Yeah, me too,” Draco laughed. “I was thinking about it yesterday, can you imagine how much trouble we would’ve caused if we had been friends at Hogwarts?”

Everyone joined his laughter.

“I think Pansy and I would’ve caused more mayhem than you two could have dreamed of,” Granger scoffed.

“Agreed, bestie,” Pansy said, slurring just slightly. “The two sexiest, smartest witches at Hogwarts? We would’ve ruled the castle by third year.”

“That’s - ” Potter started.

“Accurate and terrifying?” Draco finished.

“I’m so glad you’re dating Draco,” Pansy enthused at Granger. “I thought he’d never get over Victoria, but now he’s got you.”

“Pans,” Draco said resignedly. “Please don’t start…”

“We’re among friends and lovers, Draco,” she waved her hand haphazardly. Potter drank the rest of her wine discreetly and filled the glass with water from his wand, handing it back to her. Draco nodded appreciatively at him.

“You should talk about it more,” Pansy continued. “If you really want a fresh start with my bestie Hermione, you’re going need to be open about your past.”

She hiccuped and fixed Hermione with a hard stare.

“You too,” she said.

“I don’t even know where to start talking about Victoria,” Draco admitted, as Granger reached for his hand. He traced her knuckles with his thumb. “It’s a lot.”

“How did you meet her?” Potter asked, taking a sip and eyeing Draco over his glasses.

“I was her apprentice at the potion lab where I started my career. She was a couple of years older than me. We worked together every day for months, and became really close, then began a relationship. She found out she was pregnant with Scorp, so we married quickly.”

“What happened?” Potter asked, still surveying him.

“There was an old family blood curse,” Draco sighed, breaking Potter’s gaze. “Baring a child conceived out of wedlock was a death sentence. Neither of us knew about it, her family thought we had gotten pregnant on the honeymoon, so they didn’t both to mention it. I only found out after she died. I’ve done my research since, the curse only affects female children, so Scorpius will be not have to worry about it.”

“That must have been terrible,” Granger breathed.

Pansy noticed she was drinking water, dumped it into the flowers, and reached for the wine bottle.

“It was,” Draco let out a bitter laugh. “I completely fell apart. Vic’s family blamed me, accused me of killing their daughter by getting her pregnant. They refused to even acknowledge Scorpius’ existence. I was 20 years old, heartbroken, with an infant who never stopped screaming. All I wanted to do was get drunk and hide in my bed, but I had to keep the little guy alive because I loved him more than anything. I was terrified.”

“Pansy showed up two days later, as soon as she heard. She had just gotten out of her marriage, and stayed with us for about a year. My mum came for the first several months, too. I couldn’t have done it without them.”

He raised his glass in Pansy’s direction, then they all fell silent for a few minutes, lost in thought.

“When Ginny left,” Potter started. “I’ve never been so scared in my entire life - and, mind you, I’ve dueled Voldemort more than once. I thought I was going to have to raise my kids alone. She was barely gone for six hours when Hermione, Ron, Daphne, Luna, and Neville showed up. They just took over, worked out a babysitting schedule, comforted the boys, got me back on my feet. Even with all of the help I have, it’s still scary.”

“Boys should have mothers,” Draco said.

“Good ones,” Granger corrected as he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her close.

“Exactly,” Potter agreed.

“Hear hear,” Pansy exclaimed, snuggling into Potter. 

“How about you, Granger?” Draco asked. “You know our lonely sob stories, what’s yours?”

“Hm, it’s fairly undramatic, I’m afraid,” she said, now starting to slur as well. “I started dating Oliver about three years ago, after we ran into each other at a pub. We lived together for the last two years or so. Our relationship was completely stagnant, I was considering ending it, he cheated on me with one of my closest friends, I kicked him out. Haven’t spoken to him since.”

She shrugged.

“I never understood why you were with him,” Potter said. “You’re way out of his league.”

“We got along well, he’s a generally pleasant person to live with, and the sex was…well, I thought it was fine, but I’ve conducted further research in that area recently and realized that it was truly subpar,” she giggled tipsily.

Pansy spat wine all over Potter as she burst out laughing, Draco smirked his most self-satisfied smirk, and Harry muttered something about obliviating himself.

“Scorp,” Draco said on Saturday night, setting down The Naughty Dragon and wrapping an arm around his son. “I want to talk to you about something before you fall asleep.”

“K,” Scorpius nodded, cuddling in with his dragon stuffy.

“Remember how I told you that Mr. Potter and Aunt Pansy are special friends?” He started hesitantly.

“Yeah,” Scorpius mumbled, his eyes drooping sleepily.

“I was wondering what you would think if Granger was my special friend,” he said in a rush.

“That’d be cool,” Scorpius said, looking more alert. “But you’re not gonna kiss all the time like Aunt Pansy and Harry, right?”

“Mr. Potter,” Draco corrected.

“He said I can call him Harry,” Scorpius objected. 

“Fine, I give up,” Draco sighed. “Harry, then. And, no, I won’t be kissing Granger in front of you.”

“But you’re going to kiss her?”

“Yeah, bub, that’s what adult special friends do,” Draco explained.

“Gross,” Scorpius wrinkled his nose.

“Talk to me in ten years, I bet you’ll be singing a different tune,” Draco said, ruffling his hair. “But you’re ok with this? If I’m special friends with Granger?”

“Mm hmm,” his son mumbled. “I love my Granger.”

Draco waited for the sound of even breathing, then slipped out of the room and closed the door with a quiet click. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, a warm feeling growing in his chest. Then Pansy shot a nonverbal tickling hex at him from down the hall, and he gave chase, ending with a playful duel in the sitting room.

***

Ron stopped by Grimmauld Place on Tuesday evening, carrying pizza and beer. Hermione helped Harry get the twins to bed after dinner, and the friends settled into the sitting room.

“I have something to tell you,” Ron said, cracking three beers and handing them out.

“Me too,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, I have a subscription to the Prophet, I’m fully aware of what you’ve been up to, Hermione,” he teased.

“Ok, Ron, you first,” Harry tipped his beer in Ron’s direction.

“Daph’s pregnant,” Ron said, taking a swallow of beer. “I’m going to have a daughter.”

He was immediately tackled, as his two best friends aggressively hugged him. They all emerged laughing, covered in spilt beer.

“Congratulations, mate,” Harry said, waving his wand to clean up the beer. “A daughter, wow!”

“Rose,” Ron said. “We decided on Rose. Rose Astoria Hermione Weasley.”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“After our sisters…or at least, her sister and my best friend sorta-sister, who’s better than my real sister,” Ron shrugged.

“James and Sirius will be so excited. Another cousin!” Harry said.

Ron turned to Hermione. 

“So, you’re dating Malfoy,” he said with a serious look on his face.

“Yeah,” she confessed. “And I have serious feelings for him.”

After a very long beat, Ron burst out laughing. He clutched his stomach and tipped to the side, hysterical sounds falling from his mouth. His friends gazed at him in confusion.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“How…how…are we all…involved…with Slytherins?” He gasped out. “It’s absurd!”

Harry and Hermione collapsed into giggles.

“I mean,” Ron said, wiping his eyes as he sat up. “We hated them so much when we were kids, and now we’re all in love with them. It’s truly absurd.”

“I don’t know about ‘in love’,” Harry said. “But I am rather taken with Pansy.”

“I suppose the six of us should hang out,” Ron sighed, opening another beer. “I’m going to need to adjust to this new social circle. By the way, did I tell you Percy and Astoria are dating? Apparently my shouting at them got the wheels in motion.”

“Speaking of shouting…” Hermione gave him a stern look. “You will control your temper around Draco, right?”

Harry snorted.

“I don’t think Daphne would allow otherwise,” he punched Ron on the shoulder. 

“Yes, well, she’s a bit emotional at the moment, pregnant and all,” he punched Harry back. “Keeping in her good graces seems to be wise.”

***

Pansy had made bangers and mash for Harry, Sirius, and James on Wednesday evening, to celebrate Harry’s last day at the Auror office. He was taking the remainder of the summer off, to spend time with the boys and prepare to move to Hogwarts. And to see Pansy as much as humanly possible, though he kept that thought to himself.

Pansy read the boys several stories and tucked them in while Harry cleaned the kitchen, lit the fireplace, and poured them tea. Pansy joined him in the sitting room and sipped her tea.

“Harry?” Pansy said tentatively as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Yes?” He muttered, tucking her closer to him.

“Before, well, before this gets any more serious, I need to tell you something,” her voice wavered on the last few words.

He nodded, but remained quiet.

“I was hit with a brutal Crutatius curse during the war…Bellatrix’s work of course. My father had displeased Voldemort, and he had me tortured. The curse had some lasting effects…”

She paused and took a deep breath.

“The Healers say it is very unlikely that I will be able to have children,” she rushed out. “It’s not 100%, but the odds aren’t good.”

“I’m so sorry, Pansy,” he said, rubbing his hands over her arms.

“I know family is very important to you, and you should know that I can’t give you that,” she hung her head.

“Hey,” he said softly, lifting her chin with his thumb. “That doesn’t matter to me at all. We have Sirius and James, and, hell, Scorpius is starting to feel like half-ours too. I think you, me, and those boys is plenty of family.”

“I told you I’ve been learning healing magic…I keep thinking I’ll stumble across a cure. I haven’t yet, but I’m a deft hand at healing cuts and broken bones now,” she chuckled weakly.

“I can help you research, if you want me to. But you don’t have to for my sake, love. You’re more than enough for me,” Harry said, kissing her softly. “However, I do want to talk to you about something.”

“Ok,” she said.

“What’s - um, what’s going to happen when I move to Scotland? With us?”

“I’ve been looking at properties around Hogsmeade,” she confessed. “There’s nothing really keeping me in London, except Draco and Scorpius.”

“You would do that? Move to Scotland?” He asked incredulously. She nodded and he kissed her again. 

“I wonder what they’re going to do, Hermione and Malfoy,” Harry mused.

“They haven’t talked about it, stubborn idiots,” she said. “I’m going to offer that Draco and Scorp move with me to Scotland, but I don’t know if Draco will leave his job.”

“Pansy,” he said seriously. “I only want you to come to Scotland if you want to. We can make long distance work too. I want to stay together, but you shouldn’t have to uproot your whole life.”

“What life?” Pansy scoffed. “I’m just puttering around my cottage, helping out with Scorp a bit, and seeing my friends occasionally. I need a change of pace. I could get a job at a shop in the village, watch the boys when you have classes, and my bestie Hermione will be right there. I want this.”

“You’re an incredible woman,” he said. 

“An incredibly lucky woman,” she corrected.

***

Saturday evening, Hermione, Malfoy, and Scorpius headed to Diagon Alley, where they met the Potters, Pansy, Ron, and Daphne for dinner.

There was a bit of tension when Ron and Malfoy made eye contact, broken by James trying to dash off into the road, and both men grabbing one of the boy’s shoulders. They looked up and chuckled uncomfortably, then Ron shrugged and extended his hand.

Draco only eyed the proffered hand with suspicion for a second, then shook quickly and turned to Daphne, giving her a friendly hug. 

The large group dined at the Three Broomsticks, Daphne chatting with Pansy about her pregnancy, Pansy demanding to be godmother and given full rights to spoil her goddaughter. Harry and Malfoy vehemently discussing a recent Quidditch match, and Ron and Hermione telling grandiose and greatly embellished stories from their time at Hogwarts.

After dinner, the boys (and Ron) insisted that they head to Fortescue’s for ice cream. The boys agonized over flavor choices, finally deciding on two different scoops each, followed by sincere promises to share each flavor. Most of the adults joined the boys in jeering at Malfoy’s mint chocolate chip, only Harry jumping in to defend him (“It’s really an alright flavor, it doesn’t taste like toothpaste at all!”).

They settled at several tables on the patio, enjoying the summer evening. The adults chatted, keeping an eye on the boys at their very own table.

“I think the blueberry raspberry is the best,” James said firmly.

“That’s Mummy’s favorite flavor,” Sirius said.

“Oh,” James said, putting down his spoon. “Then I don’t like it. Pansy, what’s your favorite flavor?”

“Triple chocolate hot fudge with giant chocolate sprinkles,” Pansy said immediately.

“That’s my favorite too,” James announced. “Pansy’s like our new mummy cause she’s Daddy’s special friend, and she likes the best ice cream.”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, racing over to Pansy with a spoon and asking for a bite. “This is the best flavor. And Pansy’s the best mummy.”

He hugged Pansy tightly around the waist, then hurried back to his friends. Pansy looked at the other adults with tears in her eyes, then buried her head in Harry’s shoulder and wept for a moment. 

“They love you, Pans,” Daphne said softly, patting her friend’s back. 

“I love them,” Pansy said into Harry’s robes. “Those precious little angel-monsters.”

The group set out together to a nearby Apparation point, Scorpius holding Ron’s hand and having an animated conversation about ice cream, Sirius on Malfoy’s back, James swinging between Harry and Pansy’s hands. Hermione and Daphne, at the head of the group, stopped abruptly as a photographer popped into view, followed by several more.

“Fuck,” Hermione said.

“Granger,” Scorpius admonished. “That’s the worst naughty word!”

“Sorry, big fella,” she said. “I just don’t like the cameras. They shouldn’t take pictures of children.”

She glared menacingly at the photographers, fingering her wand. 

“Hi, guys,” Harry nodded to the press. He was always more genial with the vultures than Hermione, though he resented their presence as much as she. Of the Golden Trio, only Ron still derived any pleasure from the attention. And even he had his limits.

“Oi,” Ron said, pausing to shake hands with Dennis Creevey, who poked around his camera to grin at Ron. Dennis had gotten Ron hooked on Muggle football a few years back, and the two were found in a sports pub once a week watching Liverpool or Manchester.

“Mates, we’re just having a quiet night with family and friends here. Do you think you could back off a bit? No reason to make the kids uncomfortable,” Ron said in a friendly but authoritative voice.

“Miss Granger, is it true that you are romantically involved with Draco Malfoy, a former Dea - ”

“Not in front of the children, Parvati,” Hermione cut the reporter off. “And what’s with ‘Miss Granger’? We were roommates for six years.”

Parvati blushed, but continued.

“So it’s true, Hermione? You’re dating Malfoy?”

“Daddy and my Granger are special friends,” Scorpius declared bravely.

Parvati beamed, and crouched down to Scorpius’ eye level. 

“And what’s your name, handsome?” She asked the boy.

“Please don’t speak with my son, Patil,” Malfoy said, in the kindest voice he could muster. It wasn’t very kind. “And you are not to print a word he says.”

Parvati stood and found a new target, quill scribbling furiously at her shoulder.

“Harry,” she batted her eyelashes at him, placing a hand on his arm. “How have you been? Have you heard from Ginny lately?”

Harry’s face grew cloudy and he wretched his arm from Parvati’s grip.

“I think it’s time for us to move along,” Pansy said icily. She slipped her hand into Harry’s and gave Parvati a defiant glare. “Let’s take our boys and go home.”

“Harry, our readers will undoubtedly wonder - how did the Chosen One end up with the Slytherin Slag?”

Harry took two angry steps towards Parvati, but a hex hit her forehead before he reached her. Looking back, Hermione saw Ron with his wand raised, fury pouring out of him.

“How dare you, Parvati?” He seethed, as her face erupted in crusty boils. “After everything that Harry’s been through? And what has Parkinson ever done to you?”

Hermione beamed at him, and noticed Malfoy appraising his old enemy with something like respect. As a shrieking Parvati was led away by her coworkers, the group reached the Apparition point and went their separate ways.

WAR HEROES OR DEATH EATER SYMPATHIZERS?

The Daily Prophet headline screamed above a moving photograph of the six of them, laughing and chatting together, the boys at their feet.

The article was not kind. Harry was portrayed as a grieving, desperate man in a near-catatonic state, being led around by the cunning and manipulatively evil Ms. Parkinson. Hermione was a slutty, opportunistic gold-digger sinking her claws into a morally bankrupt Death Eater. Ron was driven mad by grief for his one true love, Lavender Brown (conveniently the late best friend of Parvati Patil), and had fallen for the wiles of Ms. Greengrass, who was definitely rumored to be a frequent distributor of love potions.

Hermione, Malfoy, and Harry were infuriated, Daphne was disappointed, and Parkinson and Ron thought it was hilarious. All of the adults made sure the kids never laid eyes on that day’s paper.

***

The next day, Pansy and Draco brought Scorpius over to Grimmauld Place for lunch. Granger was still in such a fury about the Prophet that she was distracted and burned their meal. Ron, who had been teaching the three boys Wizard’s Chess, offered to run out for takeaway. This decision had nothing to do with Scorpius beating him two games in a row.

The remaining adults settled in the sitting room to watch the boys play, offering completely unhelpful suggestions and colorfully insulting the chess pieces just to watch them get mad.

Everyone looked up as the Floo engaged. Mouths dropped open as Ginny Weasley entered the room.

The tension in the sitting room immediately became unbearable. Surveying the crowd, Ginny narrowed her eyes.

“So it’s true then?” She hissed.

“Mummy?” 

Ginny looked down at her son, who was tugging at her robes. “Yes, hello, Sirius.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Granger exploded, rising to her feet. “You haven’t seen your children in over six months and you say ‘hello’?”

“Oh, shut up Hermione, like you’re so perfect.”

“Don’t be mean to my Granger,” Scorpius said angrily, glaring at the unknown witch, arms crossed, as he attempted to step in front of Granger. “‘Shut up’ is a bad word.”

“I’m taking the children outside,” Pansy said quickly, reaching for Sirius’ hand. “Daphne, come with us.”

Ginny glared at Draco. 

“We don’t need any Death Eaters here, Malfoy. Run along now.”

“There aren’t any Death Eaters here,” Granger said firmly, as Draco stood and stepped behind her. He rested his palm on her hip. 

“I don’t want Death Eaters around my children,” Ginny said. “And now I see that my boys are surrounded by them.”

“Your children?” Potter had finally stopped gaping at his ex-wife, and now a furious whisper left his mouth. “Your children?”

“Yes, my sons,” Ginny glared.

“James and Sirius are my children,” his voice was even, calm, terrifying. He took several steps across the room and towered over Ginny. Draco felt a shiver run down his spine, as he was forcefully reminded of the final duel with Voldemort. An angry Harry Potter was not to be fucked with.

“You gave up your parental rights, Ginny,” Potter hissed. “You abandoned two little boys. They are not yours. They are mine.”

“Well, now that I see the way they’re being raised, I think that was the wrong decision. They need someone looking out for their best interests. Clearly their daddy is too busy fucking a Death Eater to consider their well-being.”

“All I think about is their well-being,” Potter snarled. A spark erupted from his wand, burning a hole in the rug. Draco repaired it discreetly. It was a very nice rug, possibly a Black family heirloom. No need to have it damaged.

“You’re doing a shit job of it,” Ginny spat. “I’m going to the Wizengamot. I’m getting full custody, and taking them back to America with me. They need a proper parent.”

Granger’s wand was poking Ginny in the chest before anyone else could react.

“You aren’t taking those boys anywhere,” Granger seethed. “No one in their right mind would give you custody. James and Sirius belong here with Harry, not with you and your idiot boyfriend.”

“I’m their mother,” Ginny roared, her own wand drawn. Draco felt a crackle of magic in the room, and exchanged startled looks with Potter. If it came to a duel between these two witches, the house would be reduced to rubble.

“No, you’re not our mother!” James had snuck back inside, and his little face was red with anger and suppressed tears. “We have a daddy, we don’t have a mummy! We want Pansy to be our mummy now, we already talked about it! Me and Sirius aren’t gonna go with you!”

He burst into tears and Potter scooped him up. 

“James, buddy, no one’s taking you away from me,” he muttered into the boy’s black hair. “Go back outside with Pansy, and I’ll come get you in a minute.”

“Don’t tell the boy things that aren’t true,” Ginny snarled as James ran off. “I’m their mother, it won’t even be hard to get custody. And my family will help me.”

“No, we bloody well won’t,” Ron said as he came through the front door, arms laden with sandwiches and crisps. “I’m on Harry’s side. So is everyone else but Mum. You’re not taking the boys.”

“Oh, yes I am,” Ginny argued.

“I’ll kill you before you come near them,” Granger said quietly. “It’s not a threat, it’s a fact. You know what I’m capable of. You’ve done enough damage here, Ginevra. We’ve picked up the pieces. You won’t cause any more pain to the boys and Harry.”

Looking around at the unfriendly faces of her former friends and family, Ginny laughed drily.

“Expect the custody paperwork this week, Potter,” she said, stowing her wand and heading to the floo.

“Expect a bag of burning hippogriff shit on your porch tomorrow, Weaslette. Staying at the Burrow, are you?” Draco said.

“Fuck you, Death Eater,” she returned.

“I wouldn’t fuck a worthless slut like you with someone else’s dick,” Draco said. “You’re pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” She screeched. “At least I’m not a Death Eater letting a Mudblood raise my bastard brat.”

Granger heard the crack of the slap before she realized it was her own hand that had struck Ginny.

“You bitch, how dare you speak of a child that way?” Granger yelled. “If you ever so much as look at Scorpius cross-eyed, I’ll strangle you with your own entrails.”

“Playing mummy, Hermione? Can’t find a man to stick around long enough to knock you up, so you just find the first little shit you can and seduce his dad?”

Another crackle of magic tore through the air. Exchanging looks, Potter and Draco approached cautiously.

Before Granger could slap Ginny again (which she was very much winding up to do), Draco stopped her arm.

“Not worth it, love, this bitch is mental,” Draco said softly. “But, Weasley, be warned that I do not take kindly to anyone speaking about my son or my witch in that way. I’m not a Death Eater, but I'm still a dangerous man. I will protect Scorpius and Granger with my life. And believe me when I say that I will empty the Malfoy vaults to make sure those boys stay with Potter.”

When Ginny left in a huff and a sweep of her robes, Potter collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands. A strangled sob left him and his shoulders shook. Granger dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him.

“No,” Ron said firmly, dropping the sandwiches and crisps on the coffee table and putting a hand on Potter’s shoulder. “No crying. No one is crying right now. We have work to do.”

Potter looked up at him bleakly, tears streaming down his face. 

“Harry, your sons need you right now. They can’t see you looking upset. Pull it together for ten minutes, get their tiny bums in here, and reassure them. Malfoy, I’m assuming your family has the top solicitors in the country on retainer?”

Draco nodded.

“Get the best one, tell them to file anything they can think of to delay Ginny, immediately. Hermione, why don’t you pop over to Parkinson’s and pack an overnight bag for Scorp? I’ll have Parkinson pack bags for James and Sirius. All three boys will stay with Daph and me tonight, we’ll distract them. I have a whole new line of Wheezes products that should do the trick. You four start developing a plan to take down my crazy-ass sister.”

“Ok,” Potter said, clapping Ron on the back appreciatively. He waved his wand in front of his face, drying his tears. “Good plan. Let’s get the boys.”

Then it was only Granger and Draco in the room. She fell into his arms with a sob, and he rested his chin on her hair. 

“I’ve been feeling sorry for myself for being a widower all this time,” he whispered. “But at least I know no one would ever try to take Scorp from me.”

“She won’t take them,” Granger said into his chest. “I won’t let it happen.”

“We won’t let it happen,” he corrected. Scorpius rushed into the room and threw his arms around their legs.

“I hate that mean lady,” he said.

“Hate isn’t nice, buddy,” Draco said distractedly. “But me too.”

***

“There’s no way, just simply no way, that this could happen,” Pansy said as she angrily changed out of her robes and into a nightie.

Harry was sitting in the foot of his bed, staring into space.

“It could,” he said.

“How?” Pansy asked desperately.

“The Wizarding World is so backwards and old-fashioned when it comes to things like this. Did you know when Ginny left, they tried to give custody to Molly over me? They just couldn’t accept a single man raising children. It was only, only because I’m Harry fucking Potter that I was able to fight it. Any other bloke would’ve lost his kids. And now that their mother is back and wants them, I don’t stand a chance.”

“You’ll still be Harry fucking Potter when we fight this battle,” Pansy dropped down next to him and rubbed his back.

“We’ll find a way. If we have to create new identities, steal the boys away in the night and live in Turkmenistan, we’ll do it.”

He chuckled humorlessly.

“What language do they speak there?” He croaked.

“Turkmenistan-ian?” She guessed.

“We’ll have to learn it,” he said. He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her shoulder.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said. “Everything you’ve done for me and the boys. How much you care for them.”

“I love them,” she said. “I don’t want to lose them either.”

“They love you,” Harry said. “James told Ginny that he wants you to be his mummy, not her.”

Pansy sniffled, but couldn’t find her voice. They quietly got into bed and clung to each other, Pansy gently removing his glasses and placing them on the nightstand.

“I wish I had slapped the bitch,” Pansy mumbled as she was drifting off to sleep.

“Hermione did,” Harry said, smoothing her hair. “Really fucking hard.”

“Hermione’s the best,” Pansy said, falling asleep. Harry lay awake next to her, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathe.

***

Harry and Hermione arrived at Hogwarts early the next morning, and made their way hurriedly to the Headmistress’s office.

They knocked and were beckoned in, where they found the Headmistress enjoying tea with Hagrid.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, to what do I owe the pleasure?” McGonagall stood in greeting as Hagrid pulled them both into bone-crushing hugs.

“We could use your advice,” Hermione said. “Ginny has re-emerged, and she wants custody of Sirius and James.”

McGonagall’s nostrils flared, and she reached for Harry’s hand. 

“What can I do?” She asked, as Hagrid burst into loud sobs and collapsed into his chair.

“There’s so many ancient laws regarding marriage and parental rights, and many of them haven’t been taken off of the books. Can you think of any relevant laws that might help? Anyone we can talk to? Anything we can do?” Hermione asked.

“Hmm…oh, Hagrid, do control yourself…I can’t think of anything off the top of my head…Hagrid, dear, it will be alright, do calm down. I’ll start researching immediately,” McGonagall paced in front of her desk.

“Thanks, Minerva,” Harry said. 

“I will let Madam Pince know that you two will have 24-hour access to the Hogwarts library. Bring the boys along if needed, I’m sure Hagrid can keep them entertained,” she continued. 

“‘Course I can,” Hagrid said gruffly, mopping his eyes with a handkerchief. “Best kids I e’er known, ‘cept fer you lot.”

“You two get to work,” McGonagall said crisply. “Hagrid, would you like to join me on a little errand?”

“Where to, Minerva?” Hagrid said, rising and placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“We’re going to drop in on Kingsley and let the Minister know our feelings on who should have custody of James and Sirius.”

Her companions all beamed at her. She surprised Harry by pulling him into a brief hug, then she regally left her office with the others in tow.

***

The boys were doing somersaults in Pansy’s backyard while the adults conducted a whispered conversation about the custody issue. Harry was apprehensive about the lengths his ex would go to, whether out of desperation or spite. 

“I don’t think you should go home,” Pansy said quietly, gesturing at Harry and Hermione. “Either of you. We don’t know how unhinged Ginny is, how far she’s willing to go.”

“Stay here,” Malfoy picked up where Pansy left off. “She doesn’t know where this cottage is, and she can’t get through the wards. We can keep her away from the twins while we figure something out.”

Harry and Hermione quickly agreed, then set off to each of their homes to pack, leaving James and Sirius with Pansy and Malfoy for safekeeping.

When Hermione arrived at her flat, Oliver Wood was sitting on her sofa.

“Didn’t I change the locks and the wards?” She rolled her eyes at him and sat down opposite her ex-boyfriend.

“Floo is still open to the Burrow,” he explained, shrugging. “How are you, Hermione?”

“Great,” she said sincerely. “You?”

“Ok,” he sighed. “America’s fun. Other than this kerfuffle with Gin and the kids, things are good.”

Hermione glared.

“By kerfuffle, do you mean her trying to steal the boys from Harry?” She demanded.

“Yeah, that,” he rubbed his hands together nervously and popped a few knuckles. Hermione recoiled. She had forgotten about that particularly nauseating habit.

“You can’t honestly want the twins full time, Oliver,” she said, her tone more reasonable than what she was feeling. “Why are you and Ginny doing this?”

“It’s Gin, not me,” he raised his hands defensively. “I’m just here for moral support or whatever.”

“Kind of you,” she snarked. “But - and it pains me to say this as a feminist - you need to get your witch in line. She’s barmy if she thinks she can provide a better life for those boys than Harry.”

“Well, I think she has a point,” Oliver crossed his arms across his chest, a sure-fire sign that he was about to become belligerent. Hermione jumped to her feet and began pacing, her sign that she was gearing up to dispute every word out of his mouth. He knew nothing of belligerent, when compared to her. They had danced this dance many times before. 

“I personally would sleep better at night knowing that the boys weren’t traipsing about town with known Death Eaters. Slytherins! What are you all doing with Slytherins? To that point, I’d sleep a lot easier if you weren’t gallivanting about town with them as well!”

“First of all, neither Pansy nor Daphne was ever accused of being a Death Eater. Don’t judge people based on their families, that’s ignorant,” Hermione snapped, rounding on him. “Second, Malfoy was exonerated for all war crimes, and is no more a Death Eater than I am. Third, Harry would never do anything that would endanger his children. You know Harry, Oliver. You know him. Fourth, who I choose to gallivant with is absolutely none of you business, and hasn’t been since I found you naked on our dining room table with my best girl friend!”

“That was ages ago,” Oliver said lamely. “And you seemed to have moved on just fine. Malfoy? Really, Hermione?”

“Bugger off, Wood,” she seethed. “Who I happen to love is, again, none of your fucking business.”

“You love him?” Oliver squeaked.

“Yeah, I do, so what?” It was Hermione’s turn to cross her arms.

“You never said you loved me,” Oliver choked out.

“I didn’t,” she snapped. “And clearly you never loved me, or I wouldn’t have had to scrub your ass print off the table where I eat.”

“I loved you,” he exclaimed.

“That’s hippogriff shit, and well besides the point,” she said. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that your nutter girlfriend is trying to ruin countless lives and is once again being the most selfish, self-absorbed, egotistical - ”

“Alright, alright, I’ll try to talk to her,” Oliver shook his head. “But she’s as obstinate as you are. She’s going to do whatever wants to do.”

“Let her know that I’ll do whatever I want to do,” Hermione said menacingly. “Harry can fight her legally all he wants, and he’ll probably win. He’s Harry fucking Potter. But if he somehow loses, let Ginny know that I don’t give a fuck about legality. I will stop her from taking those boys by whatever means necessary.”

Oliver rose to his feet.

“I don’t like what Malfoy brings out in you,” he commented as he walked to the floo.

“Oh, Oliver,” she sighed. “You really never understood me, even after years together. I’ve always been willing to break the rules for the ones I love. And I love those boys more than life itself.”

Draco and Granger awoke to a small body launching itself onto the bed, and tucking in between them. 

“Granger, what do you want for breakfast?” Scorpius asked in far too loud of a voice. Granger groaned and mumbled something incoherent.

“Aunt Pansy said she’ll make whatever we want,” Scorpius enthused, trying to tug Draco to a sitting position. “I want bacon and toast. What do you want, Daddy?”

“Bacon and toast sound good, Scorp,” Draco said, rubbing his eyes. “Why don’t you go put in our order with the chef? We’ll be down soon.”

“K,” Scorpius scrambled out of bed and took off at top speed.

“Morning,” Granger mumbled, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his stomach.

“Morning,” he twisted a curl around his finger. “You alright?”

“I need a cup of coffee, then I’ll be ready to destroy that conniving bitch. I need the caffeine to really get into a rage.”

Draco chuckled.

“You’re so mean,” he whispered. “And it’s such a fucking turn on.”

He grabbed her arse playfully and she kissed his chest.

“Let’s get some coffee in you, then,” he said, swinging his legs off of the bed. “I want to see you at the height of your vindictiveness, I imagine it is quite alluring. And then I want to shag you silly.”

“If you ever want to see me, really, truly, unbelievably angry…” she said as she sauntered into the loo. His ears perked up.

“Dog-ear a page in one of my books. I go ballistic. Ask Ron.”

She shut the bathroom door, and it was that exact moment that Draco decided he wanted to marry her. He was so fucking in love with her it was unreasonable. 

Granger popped her head out of the loo. 

“Actually, don’t, though,” she said, biting her lip.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Dog-ear one of my books,” she said. “We can role play it or something, maybe you could turn down the cover of a magazine or the newspaper and I can yell. Just, you know, my books shouldn’t have to suffer for our sex life.”

“Love, I would never harm a book,” he said, and was rewarded with a brilliant smile before she shut the door.

A trip to Gringotts soon, then. It was too early to propose, of course, barely two months in. But he wanted to pick a Malfoy family ring, make sure there weren’t any weird pureblood enchantments on it, and plan a nice proposal. Or maybe a Black family ring…nope, that might remind her of Bellatrix. He remembered his Grandmother Malfoy’s ring vaguely, that might work. Draco had a lot to do. Starting with joining his witch in the shower.

***

Breakfast was rather somber. Pansy looked worried as she sipped tea and nibbled toast. Hermione skimmed the Prophet and tapped her foot while drinking two cups of coffee. Harry pushed bacon around his plate and barely spoke. Malfoy valiantly tried to engage the kids in conversation, but gave up after a few minutes and slathered jam onto his toast moodily.

After they ate, they flooed to McGonagall’s office.

“Hi Headmistress Milogagall,” Scorpius said happily as he exited the fireplace.

“Close enough,” McGonagall said fondly. “Would you boys like a biscuit?”

“Yes, please,” three angelic voices chimed together. Harry and Malfoy rolled their eyes.

“Hagrid should be here in just a moment,” McGonagall said, extending her biscuit tin to the children, then the adults. “We spoke with Kingsley yesterday, he agrees that it is in the boys’ best interest to remain in your care. He is going to take the pulse of the rest of the Wizengamot, and see where they stand. He will reach out the moment that Ms. Weasley files anything.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said. Harry nodded next to her. His silence bothered Hermione. Usually it meant he was plotting something half-cocked and with no regard for his personal safety. She was going to have to keep a close eye on him. Maybe nick the invisibility cloak until all this blew over.

“‘Ello boys,” Hagrid thundered as he entered the office. “Who wants to meet a baby unicorn today?”

The boys exploded with noise, way more noise than three tiny humans should be able to produce. They raced after Hagrid, not bothering to say goodbye to any of the adults. 

“Down to the library, then,” McGonagall said. “Third aisle from the back, domestic law section is probably a good place to start. Perhaps a book or two about the Sacred Twenty Eight, I believe the Weasleys are included in detail. There may be something in there you can use. Where do the rest of the Weasleys stand?”

“I talked to George this morning. Everyone but Molly is furious with Ginny,” Hermione said.

“Molly,” McGonagall sighed. “She might be a problem.”

“She will be,” Harry said quietly, staring at the floor. “She knows she’ll end up with the boys eventually if Ginny gets custody. Ginny’s not going to play mummy for long, she’ll drop them with Molly within a year.”

“We’re not letting that happen, Harry,” Pansy said firmly.

“Certainly not,” McGonagall sniffed. “Now, to work, or I’ll take house points.”

***

The boys had been put to bed, and the adults gathered outside, drinking firewhiskey and discussing the day’s research. 

“I learned nothing,” Pansy groaned. “I’m sorry, you lot, I was a terrible student and I’m just awful at this.”

“It’s fine, honey,” Harry said, rubbing her knee. Upon pouring his second whiskey, he had become more himself, not the taciturn mystery from earlier. “You’re here with me and I need that more than anything.”

“I found fuck all, too,” Malfoy said. “I spent all day immersed  in that Sacred Twenty Eight lunacy, and all I learned is that I’m distantly related to both of you - ” he gestured at Harry and Pansy, “ - and apparently Tracey Davis is a much closer cousin than I thought, and now I feel weird that I felt her up in sixth year.”

Hermione laughed, and even Harry gave a weak chuckle. Pansy sat up straight and glared at Malfoy.

“We were dating all of sixth year,” she exclaimed.

“It was that weekend you broke up with me because I didn’t notice your haircut,” he rolled his eyes at her and sipped his drink.

“Oh, yeah,” Pansy said, taking a gulp of whiskey. “I slept with Adrian Pucey that weekend.”

“It’s truly shocking that we didn’t work out,” he teased her.

“Yes, tragic,” she said, snuggling into Harry. “My heart may never recover.”

“It’s a burden we both shall bear,” he retorted wistfully, as Hermione traced the constellations on his hands and smirked.

“Well, I found a few interesting laws, but I think I’ll need to go to the Ministry to review any amendments or hearings regarding them,” Hermione said. “Nothing concrete, but good leads.”

“I owled Dennis Creevey earlier. I asked if he had any photos of Ginny and Oliver, before she left me,” Harry confessed. 

He dragged a hand through his hair and gave Hermione a guilty look. She felt her stomach sink to her toes.

“Months before Ginny left, Dennis came to my office and let me know, as a friend, that he had seen her around with another man. He said he wouldn’t let anything get to print, but wanted me to know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

”I didn’t know it was Oliver, I swear,” he beseeched her. “I didn’t ask Dennis for details at the time, I was busy trying not to vomit.”

He cleared his throat.

“Dennis has pictures,” he said solemnly. “Compromising pictures of the affair.”

“How long?” Hermione whispered, feeling rather nauseated herself. “How long were they cheating on us?”

“Months.”

“Oh,” Hermione said sadly, tipping back her whiskey. Draco refilled her glass and kissed her hair.

“Well, get the photos from Dennis, we may need them in front of the Wizengamot,” Pansy said sensibly. “But Harry, don’t look at them. You don’t need to see that.”

Harry nodded, and announced that was going to bed, Pansy joining him. 

Instead of settling down next to Hermione, Malfoy extended his hand and led her back into the house. 

“Open up a bottle of wine, love, and meet me in my room,” he said, leaving her in the kitchen and hurrying upstairs.

When Hermione entered the bedroom, Draco took the wine bottle and glasses, placed them gently on the desk, and wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re so stressed,” he muttered into her ear. “I thought we could relax a bit.”

He led her to the loo, where the bath was filled with bubbles and rose petals, and candlelight bounced off the walls. She grinned at him and stripped her shirt off while he poured two glasses of wine. 

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she removed more clothing and lowered herself into the tub. He handed her a glass of wine, and waved his wand to vanish his clothes before sliding into the bath across from her and sipping his wine.

“The other day, you told Ginny that you're a dangerous man,” she commented, clearly poking around for information.

He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

“I’m not a good man, all of the time,” he confessed. “I’ve done many things of which I’m not proud.”

“Tell me,” she said.

“I don’t want you to think differently of me,” he said, eyes still closed.

“I won’t,” she said firmly. “I love you, Malfoy, nothing you say could - ”

She broke off in horror as his eyes popped open and she realized what she had said.

A slow smirk spread across Malfoy’s face. 

“I love you too,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her lips. “But you’ve got to call me Draco when you say stuff like that.”

“Fine. I love you, Draco,” she kissed him back.

“Love you too, Granger,” his smirk intensified.

“You’re infuriating,” she splashed him.

“You’re beautiful,” he splashed back. “And also infuriating.”

She scooted around so that she could lean back into his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her before he spoke.

“I tortured people, during the war. I hurt people. I didn’t want to do any of it, but that doesn’t matter, because I did it,” he took at deep breath. “And I almost killed Pansy’s husband.”

“Malfoy,” she started, running a wet hand over his dragon tattoo, where his Dark Mark used to be, still lurked under the surface. “You were a kid.”

“Not when I went after Rowle, I wasn’t a kid then,” he said.

“What happened?” She asked.

“It was a really bad time,” Draco explained. “The closer we got to Scorp’s due date, the sicker Victoria was getting. I was so scared. And then my best friend shows up, I hadn’t seen her in months. Pansy was emaciated, sickly, barely herself. And she was bleeding from her face and had a hand print on her neck. I just - broke. I left my wand with Vic. I flooed straight to the bastard’s house and beat him almost to death with my bare hands.”

He pulled in a great, stuttering breath.

“Why did you stop?” She whispered. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

”Pansy was frightened when I ran out, she thought I’d end up in Azkaban or dead by Rowle’s wand. She flooed my mother, who contacted the one Auror she trusted.”

“Harry,” Hermione guessed.

“Yes,” Malfoy responded. “I’m honestly surprised you don’t know this story.”

“His Auror work was always confidential,” she explained. “He couldn’t tell me things like this.”

“Potter arrived while I was kicking Rowle in the ribs, I wanted to make sure I broke all of them. He pulled me off of the son of a bitch, took my statement, and told me to get back to France. He sorted it out, and made sure that Rowle couldn’t get to Pansy. Those restraining magics were announced within days. I think he created them for Pansy.”

They were quiet for a moment, lost in thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I was a better man. I wish you hadn’t fallen in love with someone capable of murder.”

“You did, too,” she whispered.

“What?” He exclaimed.

“I’ve - I’ve killed,” she confessed.

“Who?” He asked.

“Two people, two Death Eaters, when we were extracting Harry from his aunt’s home before the war really started. I stunned two men off of their brooms. They fell hundreds of feet. I saw it happen. They died on impact. I don’t know who they were, precisely.”

“That’s - ” he started.

“During the final battle, I came around a corner, and saw Yaxley with his wand pointed at Ginny’s back,” she continued. “I didn’t even think. I Avada’d him on the spot.”

“I killed for her and she fucked my boyfriend,” she whispered bitterly.

“It was war,” he said. “She was your friend. That was completely justified.”

“Is what I did to Fenrir Greyback justified?” Her voice was small.

“That was you?” He asked, stunned. “I saw his body, or what was left of it…Merlin.”

“I never liked Lavender Brown, much,” she said, determined to finish. “But when I saw what he did to her…he had ripped her throat out, mauled her face, and was…and was…defiling her body, rutting against her like a fucking animal while she died…it was sectumsempra.”

“You decapitated him,” Malfoy breathed.

“Yes,” she said. “And I don’t feel the least bit sorry about it. The others, well, I’ve discussed my guilt over those at length with a Mind Healer. I don’t care at all that I murdered that heinous beast.”

“You did the world a favor,” he said, pulling her as close to him as possible.

“Still love me?” She asked. 

“More than ever,” he confirmed.  “You’re possibly the bravest person I know.”

“Don’t let Harry hear you say that, bravery is kinda his thing,” she joked weakly.

“Well, he’s not the one naked in the bath with me, so I think I’ll keep complimenting you,” he nibbled on her earlobe.

“Want me to go get him?” She teased. “You two could have some fun under the bubbles.”

“Alright, bath over,” he announced, leaping out of the tub and grabbing two towels. “And I may never get an erection again, thanks.”

Hermione stood and reached for the towel he offered. He eyed her up and down for a minute, then glanced down at his crotch.

“Nevermind, still in working order,” he smirked at his hardening cock.

He scooped her up and carried her to bed, dropping her lightly on the duvet.

“Malfoy, I’m all wet, the bed is going to be soaked,” she objected.

“That’s hot,” he joked, crawling over her.

“Not what I meant,” she swatted at him, then met his lips with her own.

He waved his wand, performing an instant drying spell. He watched in amazement as her hair grew to four times its regular size.

“There’s a good reason I don’t use drying spells on my hair,” she scolded, trying to wrestle her explosive mane into a messy bun. She succeeded, though her hair elastic was under heavy strain.

That sorted, she pulled Malfoy back to her, and kissed him frantically, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“I’ve never wanted a witch the way I want you,” he murmured into her ear, moving his lips down to kiss her shoulder. 

“Oh yeah?” She smiled teasingly.

“Not even a contest, Granger,” he said, kissing his way down her body. 

“Too bad I don’t feel the same way,” she sighed, squeaking as he pinched her nipple.

“Oh, you don’t want me?” He asked as he licked her navel.

“Not at all,” she breathed, as he kept going lower.

“Bet I can convince you otherwise,” he said, swirling his tongue around her clit.

“Never,” she moaned. “I’m completely unattracted to you.”

“Witch,” he breathed against her upper thigh. “I guess I’ll just stop then.”

She dragged a hand through his hair and tugged. 

“You could try a little harder to convince me,” she smirked at him.

Malfoy spent the next five minutes making his best argument with his tongue and fingers. Eventually she was persuaded.

“Oh God, oh my God, Draco,” she gasped as she came, riding his face as pleasure overtook her.

“Still repulsed by me?” He asked as he crawled up to her, wiping his mouth on his arm.

“Disgusted,” she said, as she pulled him to her for a kiss. “Now, will you please fuck me?”

“As you wish,” he said solicitously, lining his cock up and pushing into her.

“I love you,” he whispered as he began slowly thrusting.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, her hips rising to meet his. 

Malfoy picked up his pace after a few minutes, one hand squeezing her arse and the other tangled in her hair. Her nails dug into his sides as she pulled him closer and closer still.

“Are you going to cum again, Granger?” He rasped.

“I’m close,” she moaned.

He scrambled off of her and laid back against the pillows.

“Wanna ride me?” He asked with a devilish smile.

She returned the look, then turned around and straddled him.

“Like that?” He asked, sounding awed as she mounted him backwards.

She smiled coyly at him over her shoulder, then began to move up and down on his prick. 

“This is the hottest thing…holy shit, your arse is perfect…you look like a fucking goddess…” he babbled, finally reaching for her hips and helping her set a rhythm. 

“Touch yourself, Granger,” he commanded in a choked voice. “I want to feel you get off on my cock like this.”

She complied, and was soon shaking on top of him.

“That’s right, Granger, cum for me,” he groaned. “Ride my cock until you scream.”

Scream she did, as she quickly shattered on top of him. Exhausted, she leaned forward and braced her hands on his calves. This provided Malfoy the most glorious view of his dick deep inside of her, and he only had to thrust three more times before he came with his own shout of pleasure.

Hermione scooted around to flop into his arms, and they laid there as a tangled pile of sweaty limbs for several minutes, breathing heavily into the silence.

“So, you like reverse cowgirl, then?” She questioned as she searched for her wand. Finding it, she cleaned them both up and summoned their clothes. 

“I…I mean…the view alone is enough to recommend it,” he said, dazed. “Feels pretty fucking incredible too.”

Hermione slipped her knickers on and handed Malfoy his boxer briefs. 

“I would insist that we sleep naked,” he said, wiggling into his pants. “But Scorp is home and he likes to wake me up as you know.”

“Understood,” she smiled.

“But I’m still going to hold your tits all night,” he said, tucking her body against him and snaking a hand under her shirt.

“I would expect nothing less,” she twisted her neck to kiss him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, love,” he whispered, kissing her hair and fondling her boob.

Draco awoke to the sound of whispers. He realized his arms were not full of Granger, which was disappointing. As he became more conscious, he realized he was holding his son instead, which was a happy substitute. He kept his eyes closed and eavesdropped shamelessly.

“Granger,” he heard Scorpius trying very hard to be quiet. “Why don’t you have a kid? Don’t grown ups have kids?”

Granger chuckled quietly. 

“Some do,” she agreed. “And I want a kid someday. But not yet, you and James and Sirius keep me plenty busy.”

“Can I be your kid?” Scorpius asked. “You don’t have one, and I don’t have a mummy, so it’d be perfect.”

“Oh, Scorp,” Granger whispered, and Draco heard her kiss his head. “That would be something your dad and I would need to discuss, sometime in the future.”

“How about you and me and Daddy and Sirius and James and Harry and Aunt Pansy all move into a big big big house together…or a castle! James said he and Sirius will share a room with me. And you and Daddy can get married and it will be so fun!” Scorpius was now too excited to whisper.

“That does sound fun, Scorp,” Draco said sleepily. “But slow down a bit, sport.”

He squeezed the boy tight, and leaned over to kiss Granger. Delightful witch. He fully agreed with Scorpius, she should absolutely be his mother, if she was so inclined. And maybe the mother of a few more of his children eventually, if she so desired. The idea had him grinning into Scorpius’ hair.

“Are we going back to Hogwarts today?” Scorpius asked. 

“Not today,” Granger said, slowly rising from bed. “We’re going to the Ministry today. And you’ll need to be on your best behavior, it’s a grown up place. Not that you’re ever naughty, you perfect boy.”

She tickled his tummy and he squawked, kicking his feet and almost taking out Draco’s bollocks.

“Watch the feet, little dude,” he chided, hands dropping to protect himself.

“Sorry,” Scorpius said, scrambling off the bed. “Can I wear robes to the Ministry like a grown up?”

“Sure,” Draco said, stretching. “And comb your hair.”

“That’s adorable,” Granger commented as Scorpius ran off.  “Itty bitty robes, I bet he’ll look very official.”

“My parents made me wear robes as a kid. It’s not easy, learning to walk in damned robes,” he murmured into her neck, his arms around her waist.

“I took forever to learn how to walk,” she confessed. “My dad always teased that I learned to read before I got on my feet, and I only bothered to stand to reach a book on a higher shelf.”

“Sounds in character,” he nipped at her neck and she groaned.

“Not right now, Malfoy,” she stepped away from his embrace. “Scorp is going to be waiting for us.”

Draco pouted as Scorpius raced back into the room, wearing black robes and Draco’s school tie draped around his neck.

“Merlin, it’s like I’ve gone back in time,” Granger said, her eyes twinkling. “Malfoy, did you have a kid or clone yourself?”

“He has Vic’s nose, and her hands…but yeah, he’s pretty much me. But I knew how to tie a tie when I was five. Come here, rascal, I’ll show you again. Look in the mirror now, good.”

He glanced up to find Granger gazing at them with so much fondness, he thought his heart would burst. His fingers fumbled with the tie. Yeah, he was going to marry her.

***

They met Ron at the Auror’s office, and he led them to the legal archives.

“How’s Harry?” Ron asked, as he pulled a lollipop out of his pocket for Scorpius. Uncle Ron always had candy. “I can’t get him to say much.”

“He’s not great,” Hermione responded. “I think he’s planning something.”

“All quiet and won’t make eye contact, spends too much time alone?” Ron asked knowingly.

“Exactly,” she nodded. “I hid the invisibility cloak.”

“Smart,” Ron said. “I talked to Percy, he’s sat in on some of these custody hearings. He said the Wizangamot almost always sides with the mother. But character witnesses may help.”

“He’s Harry effing Potter,” Malfoy snorted. “Everyone in that courtroom knows he saved the Wizarding World. I can’t imagine that his character is in question.”

“Ginny and my mum will make sure it’s questioned,” Ron said. 

“I’ll speak for him,” Hermione said quickly.

“Of course, me too,” Ron replied. “I can think of about a hundred people who would line up to talk about how great Harry is.”

“But that won’t have much impact,” Malfoy interjected. “A parade of Harry Potter fans singing his praises is what they expect, they won’t pay attention.”

“Then what do we do?” Hermione asked with a note of desperation.

“I’ll speak,” Malfoy said. “The whole world knows we hated each other. Me vouching for him will at least be unexpected, they might listen.”

“That's not a bad idea,” Ron mused. “Hopefully we don’t get that far, we can shut this down before - ”

They rounded a corner and were facing Ginny, Oliver, and Molly.

“Mum,” Ron said in surprise, ignoring the others completely.

“Malfoy,” Oliver said formally, puffing out his chest and standing tall.

“Wood,” Malfoy replied, not bothering to adjust his stance at all. 

The two old Quidditch rivals glared at each other in silence, Malfoy taking a step closer to Hermione.

“What are you doing here?” Ron asked. 

“Filing custody papers,” Ginny sneered.

“Can’t you just leave again?” Hermione snapped. “You’re just…ruining so much for so many people. Again. Is this just what you do now? Screw up everything?”

“I don’t like you,” Scorpius announced loudly, glaring at Ginny. Ron snorted.

“Lovely manners the boy has,” Molly said scathingly, glaring at Hermione. 

“Just good sense,” Hermione bit back. 

“He’ll never love you, you know,” Ginny spat suddenly. “Harry, that is. You’ve been following him around for 15 years, just begging for him to notice you. And not did only did he pick me, now he picked Pansy Parkinson over you. Even after all that work you did playing mummy. That must sting.”

“You. Are. Mental.”

Ron grasped his sister by the shoulders and spoke slowly.

“Hermione does not want, and has never wanted, to be with Harry. She is an amazing friend, and she stepped in when you abandoned your husband and your children. She did that because she is a decent human being, who loves your boys more than you ever did. I don’t know what broke in your brain the last couple of years, but you need help, Gin. This isn’t you.”

“Fuck off, Ron,” she seethed, knocking his hands off of her shoulders.

“Watch your language,” Ron said, gesturing at Scorpius. 

“Oh, yeah, you seem fit to be around five-year-olds,” Malfoy snarked. “Don’t repeat that word, Scorp.”

“Well, go file your ridiculous paperwork,” Hermione dismissed them. “I hope you all get dragon pox.”

She grasped Scorpius’ hand and swept off, Ron and Malfoy rushing to catch up.

***

Draco had been right, of course. Hermione Granger at full pique was at once fascinating, terrifying, and unbelievably sexy. As she launched into her third diatribe about Ginny, pacing the Ministry archives and gesticulating with her wand, Draco found that he needed to adjust himself under the table a few times. 

Scorpius was scribbling in the corner with a huge pack of crayons that Granger had given him last week. Draco stifled a laugh when he caught sight of his son’s latest work - a red-headed stick-woman with stink lines and devil horns. What a perceptive, creative little man he was raising.

He and Granger dug through dozens of legal documents, speaking rarely and briefly. They were both frustrated within an hour.

“Draco?” She asked quietly, not looking up.

It was always ‘Malfoy.’ Unless they were in very intimate moments, she always called him Malfoy. 

“Yeah?”

“What if we can’t win?” Her voice was tiny and tears welled in her eyes. 

“We will,” he said, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles.

“I can’t say it to Harry,” she forced out. The tears spilled down her cheeks. “I can’t even say it to Ron. But we could lose.”

“It would kill Harry,” she was almost sobbing now. “But what’s worse, is I can’t stop focusing on how it would kill me. It’s so fucking selfish, worrying about my own feelings when Harry could lose his sons. But it would break me, losing Sirius and James. I love them so much, I’ve seen them almost every day since they were born. I can’t handle losing them.”

Draco had tossed out a silent Muffliato when Granger started crying. Scorpius was busy coloring and seemed oblivious.

“Hermione, love,” he said, walking around the table to kneel in front of her shaking form. “What in the hell is selfish about loving your best friend’s kids like they’re your own? That’s crazy. Nothing you have ever done in regards to those boys has been selfish. You’re allowed to be as upset as you need to be, this situation is horrendous.”

She nodded tearfully.

“We are not letting that ginger cow take James and Sirius. I own property in several different countries. If it looks like things aren’t going our way, we get the twins, Harry, and Pansy the hell out of Britain. We can hide them. Or I could kill Ginny, if that’s easier.”

A weak chuckle.

“I’m so scared,” she whispered.

“I am too. Against all odds, I have come to care a great deal for Harry Potter’s offspring. And Scorpius loves them like brothers. So we’ll keep trying, we have to.”

“I know,” she nodded, thanking him for the handkerchief he transfigured from a piece of parchment.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be all…messy. I don’t usually let anyone see me like that.”

“No apologies,” he said, standing and pulling her into a tight embrace. “Always tell me what’s going on in that brilliant head, even if it’s messy.”

“Love you,” she murmured as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

“Lov - ”

“Daddy, you said you wouldn’t kiss my Granger in front of me,” Scorpius said, watching them beadily with his hands on his hips.

“Sorry, pal,” Draco groaned. “Won’t happen again.”

“It’s ok,” Scorpius said. “Sirius said that James said that Harry said that sometimes a wizard just has to kiss his pretty witch.”

“You boys are terrible gossips,” Granger smiled at him. “Hey, what did you draw there?”

“You and me and Daddy going to the zoo,” he said proudly.

“Sounds like a mandate, Granger,” Draco said, his arm around her waist. “We shall escort the young gentleman to the zoo.”

***

“Ginny filed today,” Harry said grimly as the adults settled into Pansy’s sitting room after the boys were in bed. 

“What’s she asking for?” Pansy asked.

“Full custody. Absolutely no visitation rights for me,” he sighed.

“On what fucking grounds?” Hermione exploded, jumping to her feet.

“Dangerous associations and unfit environment for children,” he said, voice tight with tears.

Hermione wanted to hunt Ginny Weasley down and tear her goddamn eyes out. Harry, who had been raised in an actual unfit environment for children, being accused of treating his beloved children in a similar manner. Harry, who had been devasted, destroyed by Ginny’s betrayal, being punished for finding happiness again. Harry, who had saved the motherfucking wizarding world and was the best damn father and the best damn friend and that stupid, cheating, boyfriend-fucking Ginny Weasley -

“Hermione?” Pansy asked. 

“What?” 

“Your wineglass just exploded, you’re covered in wine, and Draco’s bleeding,” Pansy explained patiently.

“Oh, oh sorry, love,” she fussed, healing Malfoy’s forehead and siphoning up all of the wine and blood she saw.

“I haven’t seen you explode something in a fury in years,” Harry said, smiling sadly. “I almost feel sorry for Ginny, seeing you this mad.”

“Don’t,” Hermione snarled. “No sympathy for that cunt. We’re taking her down. We’re not backing down, you’re not taking the boys into hiding. We’re going to win, and then we’re all taking the boys to DisneyWorld. Everyone on board?”

They all nodded mutely at her (though Pansy and Malfoy were mystified by this DisneyWorld place).

“Pansy, go to Dennis Creevey tomorrow and get the pictures. Make sure he has dates and times for each, and please catalogue those dates. Harry, pull your old work diaries. Match up where you and the boys were at the times when Ginny was fucking my fucking boyfriend. Malfoy, write up your character reference for Harry. Do you think your mother will speak? Can you ask her? Can you think of any other ‘unexpected witnesses’ that would be willing to help?”

“Theo,” Pansy interjected.

“Nott?” Harry asked. “I don’t know him.”

“When Draco and Scorpius visited him in Ireland, Scorp talked his ear off about how cool Harry, Hermione, James, and Sirius are. We could never ask any of the boys to speak about how happy they are, but we could get it in second-hand through Theo.”

“And he has a crush on you,” she winked at her boyfriend. “He’ll do it if I ask.”

“Please do,” Hermione ramped back up. “Pansy, can you give the boys haircuts in the morning? We want them perfectly groomed. Harry, please go to Hogwarts first thing and collect the books I had Madam Pince pull, then grab the pile of documents I left with Ron at the Ministry. Malfoy, please reach out to the solicitor and get an update, then stop in on Kingsley and McGonagall and see if they have anything new. We’ll meet back here at noon, and we’ll figure out how to put an end to this.”

Again, mute nodding.

“What are you doing in the morning?” Harry finally asked.

“I’ll take the boys to Hagrid, then I’m going to visit an old friend,” she said, a devious look on her face.

“You’re so scary,” Malfoy said appreciatively. 

“Why does that sound like a turn on for you?” Pansy asked with disgust.

“Because it totally is,” he smirked at her.

“Ugh,” Pansy said.

“Harry,” Hermione said seriously. “You trust me, right?”

“With my life, as I think I’ve proven more than once,” he said.

“Good,” she said. “Because you are not going to like what I’m about to do. But I promise this will help.”

He glared at her.

“You stole my invisibility cloak, didn’t you?” He accused.

“Yeah.”

“I’m so fucking glad you’re on my side,” he said, shaking his head with resignation.

***

“Shit,” Rita Skeeter spat when Hermione strolled into her office the next morning. “What did I do now?”

“Nothing, surprisingly,” Hermione was pleasant. Nothing unnerved Skeeter more.

“Then…what can I do for you?” Skeeter fussed with some parchments.

“I’ve noticed,” Hermione started. “That of all the disgusting, personal attacks you have written about the key players in the wizarding war, there seems to be a gaping hole in your coverage.”

“Oh?”

“What does Ginny Weasley have on you, Skeeter?” 

“I - well - she - ”

“I see,” Hermione said. “So you don’t print a negative word about the slag who cheated on and abandoned The Chosen One, nor about the loser jock who betrayed The Golden Girl, because she’s blackmailing you.”

Skeeter nodded.

“So she stole my style and my boyfriend, cool,” Hermione scoffed. 

“Anyway, Skeeter, I’m here to offer you an interview,” she said.

Skeeter’s eyebrows flew up.

“Why would I interview you?” She said. 

“Want the full story of what happened in the Potter marriage? Want the exclusive regarding their current custody battle? Want to report on how Draco Malfoy seduced the Golden Girl?”

Skeeter was practically panting.

“Yes,” she breathed, grappling for a quill. “Tell me, Miss Granger, did you yourself break up the Potter marriage?”

“Rita, please restrain yourself,” she scolded. “One step at a time. Let me tell you my terms.”

***

Hermione’s next stop was spontaneous. She crossed the sprawling lawn and knocked on the door of the tool shed.

The door was flung open, and a tall, red-haired man grinned down at her.

“Hermione,” Arthur boomed, giving her a tight hug. “Come in, come in.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said, eying the pieces of what she assumed was Sirius Black’s motorbike. He blushed.

“I assume you want to talk about the custody thing,” Arthur said, taking a seat and motioning to the chair across from him. She sat.

“Arthur,” she said steadily. “You love the boys. You know they’re happy and well-cared-for.”

“Of course I do,” he nodded. 

“And you love Harry,” she continued.

“Like my own son,” he said, looking pained. “But I love Ginny, too. And Molly.”

“I know,” she said. “And I am not asking you to choose a side.”

“I can’t,” he confessed.

“If you do choose a side,” she counseled. “Pick James and Sirius. Whatever you think is best for them.”

He nodded.

“Arthur, you know what happened with my parents,” she said. He lowered his eyes sadly. 

“I haven’t had parents for a long time. But you’ve always been like a father to me. I love you. And that’s why I’m asking you not to read the Prophet tomorrow. I wasn’t kind to your daughter nor your wife.”

“You have no reason to be,” he said. “I do consider you a daughter, Hermione, I’m sorry that we don’t see each other as often anymore. I love you too.”

“Thanks, Arthur,” she hugged him. “It will get better, I think.”

“Tell Harry good luck,” he said. “And, er, hug my grandsons for me.”

***

Hermione arrived at Pansy’s cottage shortly before noon. Harry was sitting alone in the kitchen.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“You know, I willing walked into my own death,” he said, staring at a cold cup of tea. 

“I know,” she said, sitting beside him.

“I don’t know if I can walk into that courtroom next week,” he confessed. “It’s scarier.”

“I agree,” she said.

“I can’t lose my sons, Hermione,” he said.

“You won’t,” she said firmly. “Harry - ”

“What did I do wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing.”

“I loved her. I married her. We had two beautiful, perfect children. I worked hard. I brought her flowers on random Tuesdays. I spent every possible moment with our boys. She cheated on me. She gave up all of her rights to my kids. I did everything I could to give the boys a happy life. What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, Harry,” Hermione rubbed his back. “You’re an amazing father, and we’re going to show that to the Wizengamot. Don’t give up. It’s not walking into defeat, it’s walking into a victory.”

“You can’t know that,” he said.

“Have I ever let you down before?” She asked.

“No. Can I have my invisibility cloak back now?”

“Nope,” she smirked at him.

Hermione stumbled down to breakfast the next morning, and was greeted by two beaming faces and one skeptical expression.

“This is a work of art,” Pansy crowed, waving around that morning’s Prophet.

“I have never seen a more Slytherin move,” Malfoy rose to kiss her cheek and pour her tea.

“Harry?” She asked hesitantly. “Did you read it?”

“I did,” he sighed. “And as much as I don’t like my personal business in the papers, I think this might be helpful. You got our narrative to the public before Ginny spews her bullshit.”

“Good,” she nodded, sipping her tea.

Pansy began gleefully quoting the article in carrying voice.

“In a startling confession, Miss Granger alleges that infidelity broke up both the Potter marriage and her own relationship. She asserts that Mrs. Ginevra Potter, former star of the Holyhead Harpies, had a long affair with Mr. Oliver Wood, former stand-out of Puddlemore United and former boyfriend of Miss Granger. Miss Granger claims that a months-long affair ended the two relationships, and cumulated with Mrs. Potter and Mr. Wood moving together to America, where they both currently play for the Omaha Oracles.”

“Although Miss Granger denies her own affair with Mr. Potter, she claims that she and The Chosen One have been raising Potter’s two children together. Our readers may wonder about the nature of their relationship, though Miss Granger claims they are simply friends.”

“In a shocking turn of events, Miss Granger asserts that she is currently dating Mr. Draco Malfoy, though this publication was unable to verify the veracity of this ludicrous claim.”

“‘Without Ginny in the picture, Harry has established a fun, structured, lovely life for James and Sirius,’ Granger explains. “The boys have a wonderful life, with loving family and friends. Even Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid have stepped in as surrogate grandparents. We’ve all done everything we can to fill the hole that their mother left.”

“Mr. Potter is currently in a relationship with Ms. Pansy Parkinson, formerly Pansy Rowle. Miss Weasley has raised concerns regarding Ms. Parkinson spending time with her children, given Ms. Parkinson’s known family of Death Eaters.”

“Pans, you’re skipping all of the actual information and just reading the salacious shit,” Malfoy chided. 

“We all know the facts,” Pansy huffed. “I like when Rita gets creative. It’s funny.”

“You’re deranged,” Malfoy said. “The whole point of the interview, which Granger pulled off flawlessly, was to show how unfit of a mother Ginny is, and how great of a dad Potter is.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. 

A Howler arrived shortly after, the owl depositing the red envelope directly into Hermione’s bowl of cereal.

“Ginny,” Harry said, glancing at the handwriting.

Hermione rolled her eyes and incinerated the Howler. 

“Bitch,” she grumbled. 

***

They had been holed up in Pansy’s sitting room for hours. Ron and Daphne were playing in the yard with the boys while intense research (and a fair amount of panicking) went on in the house.

There was a loud clatter as Draco dropped his book and scrambled for it, shoving his reading glasses further up his nose. Everyone looked at him, and he grinned mischievously.

“I've got it, Potter,” he exclaimed, quickly shuffling back to the correct page of the fallen book.

“Hmm?” Potter asked, going back to his reading.

“I know how you can keep your boys,” Draco said triumphantly.

“What? How?” Pansy screeched, slamming her own research shut.

“You two get married,” Draco gestured to Pansy and Potter. “Pansy’s a pureblood. If she marries you and adopts James and Sirius, that’s irrefutable in front of the Wizengamot. Pansy’s rights will trump Ginny’s. Here, read this, Granger.”

“Malfoy’s right,” she said, perusing the law enthusiastically. “Ginny is a divorcée. Harry, you would be married to a pureblood. If Pansy adopts the boys, she’s their mother, not Ginny. As gross as these laws are, we can use them to our advantage this one time. The Wizengamot will give custody to a pureblood marriage over a single divorcée by matter of law.”

“Let’s do it tomorrow,” Pansy said.

“Wait, Pansy, I can’t ask you - ” Harry started.

“You’re not losing the boys,” Pansy said fiercely. 

“I know, but I mean, we haven’t been dating that long…I was hoping…in the future…but I can’t ask you…”

“You’re not asking me. I’m telling you,” she said, crossing her arms and glaring at him defiantly. “We are NOT losing your boys. You don’t have to love me, you don’t have to treat me as your wife. But this is a way for you to retain full custody. Let’s go sign some damn marriage papers and keep James and Sirius with you.”

Her boyfriend stared at her for a long moment.

“I do love you,” Harry choked out. “I should’ve said it sooner, I’ve known for weeks. I want to marry you, but you shouldn’t feel obligated - ”

“Obligated?” Pansy shrieked, tearing a hand through her hair. “That bitch is trying to take our boys! I would kill for those kids, you think marrying the man I love is an obligation? You and James and Sirius are the best things that have ever happened to me!”

“So what I’m hearing,” Draco interjected. “Is that you two are in love and will be getting married tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that’s what I gathered,” Hermione tossed in.

Potter glanced around, then broke into an easy smile.

“Pansy, will you marry me?” He asked.

“Yes,” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Will you adopt the boys?” He asked.

“Of course,” she confirmed, pressing her lips to his. 

As they started snogging, Draco nudged Hermione and nodded towards the kitchen. She followed.

“You did it,” she said, pulling him down for a kiss. “We’re going to keep the boys. Thank you, love.”

They were interrupted by a Ministry owl swooping into the kitchen. Hermione unfurled the attached parchment.

Hermione, what a delightful article this morning. I wanted you to know that it was deeply impactful, as I have personally received over 250 letters this morning, demanding that Harry retain his parental rights. I can’t get anything done today, I feel as though I am working in an aviary. Mortimer from the Wizengamot said they have received over 500 similar letters. I will do my best for Harry next week, and I wish you both luck. Yours, Kingsley

Draco laughed proudly. 

“You open your mouth to the press and you render the Minister of Magic unable to work. Do you have any idea the kind of power you wield?”

“I am going to wield every last bit of it,” she said. “If I have to resurrect Dumbledore and get him involved, I’ll fucking do it.”

“I have no doubt that you could and would,” he said, nudging her hair behind her ear. “But we have a few options before we get to necromancy.”

***

Draco had contacted his solicitor at once, who confirmed that they had interpreted the law correctly. A marriage to a pureblood, a pureblood adopting the children, along with Harry’s status, public support, and Draco’s excellent solicitor, should shut down any claim Ginny had to custody.

The solicitor had offered to officiate a quick wedding ceremony at the Ministry in the morning. He advised it be kept very small and quiet, to stop any last minute maneuvers Ginny’s legal counsel may attempt upon hearing the news. 

The ceremony would take place at ten. At seven, Potter accosted Draco in the kitchen.

“Hey Malfoy, do you have time to pop over to Gringotts with me right now?”

“I suppose,” Draco said over the Prophet. A headline on the front page read MALFOY CONFIRMS RELATIONSHIP WITH GOLDEN GIRL.

“Need a bodyguard against the goblins?”

“Yeah, they do fucking hate me. But actually, I wanted to see what rings are in my family vault. You’re Pansy’s best friend, I thought you could help me with her taste in jewelry. I want to surprise her.”

“Sure,” Draco said. Then he couldn’t help himself.

“If there’s nothing nice enough in your itty bitty vault, Potter, we can check out the Malfoy jewels next.”

“Oh shut up, you ponce,” Potter said good-naturedly. “I’m filthy rich, just like you are.”

“What a down-to-earth conversation you two are having. How relatable,” snarked Hermione, entering the kitchen with a yawn. “Rich prats.”

“Your parents are dentists and your grandparents set you up with a trust fund,” Harry smirked at her. “You’re not exactly a pauper.”

“Touché,” she said, reaching for a teacup. “Now, scoot, go get Pansy something sparkly. I’ll feed the boys breakfast.”

***

They arrived at the ministry at ten, joined by Ron, Daphne, Neville, Luna, Hagrid, and McGonagall. They all chatted for a few minutes while they waited, the adults doting on the three boys. 

“Theo!” Pansy suddenly shrieked. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Uncle Theo!” Scorpius exploded, running to the man and getting tossed up in the air.

Theodore Nott set Scorpius on the ground, then the two performed a complicated secret handshake. 

“How’s my favorite kid?” Theo asked. 

“Good, have you met my Granger?” Scorpius asked excitedly. “She’s Daddy’s special friend and my best friend.”

“Miss Granger,” Theo extended his hand. “It’s been years. How are you?”

“Doing well, thanks,” she responded with a handshake. “And Hermione is fine.”

“Are you taking good care of my best mates?” Theo asked, ruffling Scorpius hair and nodding at Draco. “They certainly seem to like you.”

“How’s Dublin?” Draco broke in before Theo could say anything embarrassing.

“Good, good, although there are no gay wizards in Ireland, I swear. Or at least, none that I haven’t already dated. I’m moving back to London soon, broadening my horizons.”

“Glad to hear it,” Draco said. 

“Anyway I just had to stop by today,” Theo continued. “Our Pansy marrying Harry Potter? I had to see it with my own eyes.”

“Let’s get this show on the road, then,” Pansy announced. “Theo, I’m the bride and you’re taking all of my attention.”

“You had to anticipate that when you invited him, Pans,” Draco said, nudging Theo with his shoulder. “It’s Theo, attention is his life blood.”

***

They all gathered in Pansy’s back garden, where there was a lovely spread of appetizers, desserts, and champagne. A very Muggle stereo system played upbeat music and Harry had transfigured a large patch of grass into a dance floor.

“How did you set this all up in 24 hours?” Hermione asked Pansy in amazement, nibbling a chocolate-covered strawberry.

“I hired Mippy for the day,” Pansy confessed. “I know how you feel about house elves, but I promise I’m paying her well, really well, and I really did want her here on my wedding day.”

“It’s fine Pansy,” Hermione reassured her. “It’s slavery that I have a problem with, not paid labor in proper conditions. And, look, she’s dancing with Hagrid.”

They watched the half-giant twirling in a circle with the tiny elf in the crook of his arm, both grinning widely. Pansy turned her attention to her sons as they chased Ron around a tree. 

“Have you talked to Draco about your future, seeing as you’re moving in less than a fortnight?” Pansy asked.

Hermione sipped her champagne and pointedly avoided her friend’s eyes. Pansy smacked her arm. Hermione snarled. Pansy dropped it.

Harry hurried towards them to ask his wife to dance, and Hermione wandered towards Draco and Theo across the lawn. She joined their conversation about the Irish Magical Ministry’s recent upheaval (about which Theo was surprisingly knowledgeable and opinionated…Hermione immediately liked him).

Ron approached hesitantly, clutching his champagne.

“Hey, um, hi,” he said, raising his flute in an awkward toast. “Theo, hey, I wanted to ask you…”

He trailed off. Theo raised his brows.

“Um, my brother George, his girlfriend Angelina, and our friend Lee come over for dinner on Mondays…”

“Mm hmm?” Theo asked politely.

“Um, I heard what you said, about er, gay blokes in Ireland. I thought, if you wanted, you could come to dinner some Monday and maybe you could…meet Lee?” Ron asked while squinting at his shoes.

“Lee Jordan?” Theo asked with wide eyes. “The Quidditch commentator with the excellent hair?”

“Um, yeah,” Ron said. “He’s a good bloke, been single for a while…”

“Next Monday?” Theo asked. “What should I bring?”

“Just yourself,” Ron seemed to relax now that Theo seemed willing. “I won’t, like, try to set you up or anything awkward. But if you like each other…well, that would be good, wouldn’t it?”

Theo slung an arm around Ron’s shoulders and clinked glasses.

“Cheers to you, Weasley. And hey, if there’s no spark with Lee Jordan, maybe you can introduce me to that dragon-hunter brother of yours.”

“Charlie?” Ron asked in surprise. “He’s not - ”

He broke off with a look from Hermione. 

“Ohhh…” Ron said slowly. “Charlie’s gay, isn’t he?”

“Bisexual, actually,” Hermione said. “Didn’t you understand what he was trying to tell everyone at Christmas last year?”

“No, I was hammered. I thought he was maybe attracted to dragons or something. Bisexual makes a lot more sense. Yeah, Theo, if you need an introduction, I can do that.”

“Daph, I like your husband,” Theo announced as she approached.

“Oh, good, I was really worried about that,” she snarked. “If you hadn’t approved, I would’ve kicked Ron to the curb.”

“Hey, I went out to get you pickles at eleven last night,” Ron protested. “I walked to the store in my Pygmy Puff pajamas.”

“May I ask why you own Pygmy Puff pajamas?” Malfoy asked, trying not to laugh.

“Your bloody hilarious girlfriend got them for me last Christmas,” Ron grumbled. 

Malfoy kissed Hermione’s forehead.

“I love when you’re mean,” he whispered.

“Granger, come dance with me,” Scorpius had appeared out of nowhere, and was tugging at her dress.

“Scorpius,” his dad said in mock dismay, playful after his third champagne. “That is not how a Malfoy asks a lady to dance.”

Scorpius sighed and wiggled. 

“K,” he said impatiently. “How does a Malfoy ask a lady to dance?”

Malfoy overdramtically took Hermione’s hand, and bowed his head. He burned her with his eyes as he raised her fingers to his lips, kissing them lightly. Then he lowered his voice a bit and asked.

“May I have this dance, Miss Granger?”

If Hermione had been wearing knickers, they would’ve been ruined. As it was, she had been worried about panty lines and she was just, um, fine. Just fine, focusing on the five-year-old, not made insanely randy by his unbelievably sexy dad. His unbelievably smug dad, at the moment. She narrowed her eyes at him. That fucking smirk…

Scorpius quickly grabbed her hand, gave it a very wet kiss, said “May I have this dance, My Granger?” and yanked her towards the makeshift dance floor. 

As she shuffled around the garden with Scorpius stepping all over her feet, she caught Draco watching them. They winked at each other, then she focused on Scorpius again.

“Did you have fun today, big dude?” She asked.

“Yeah, wedding cake is yummy and Sirius and James get a mummy now,” he said. “And I got to wear robes and Uncle Ron gave us candy during the wedding as long as we don’t tell our daddies or Pansy or Hermione, oops, I forgot.”

“It’s a special day,” she said. “A bit of candy is fun sometimes. But always brush your teeth.”

“I always do,” he nodded. “Daddy said you love teeth because your mummy and daddy fixed teeth.”

“They do,” she said. “They live far, far away and fix teeth.”

“Daddy said that they don’t ‘member you, and that’s sad. I want more grandmas and grandpas, my grandpa is in the bad people place. But my Nana is the best!”

“Well, you’re very lucky to have so many people who love you, Scorp,” she said, avoiding his left foot. “We have a great big family now.”

“Yeah,” Scorpius looked down.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Scorpius studied his shoes.

“Scorp - ”

“How come James and Sirius get a mummy and I still don’t have a mummy?” He never looked up, but she could hear the tears in his voice. 

Malfoy was there in an instant, picking Scorpius up and placing him on his hip.

“Hey, buddy, let’s go talk inside, alright?” Malfoy said, giving Hermione a look that she was in absolutely no state to interpret. She watched the two loves of her life walk into the house, and wanted to cry. 

Hermione spent the rest of the reception talking with Luna and Neville, then turned in fairly early. Tomorrow was the big day, she would need plenty of sleep and righteous fury to get through the custody hearing.

Entering Malfoy’s bedroom, she noticed the bed unoccupied. She peeked her head into the room across the hall. Malfoy was sprawled on Scorpius’ much-too-small bed, with his son drooling on his shoulder. Once again experiencing the urge to cry, she closed the door and went to bed alone.

***

In the morning, the adults quietly got ready for the day, then assisted the boys in getting through their morning routines. Pansy tried to get Harry to eat some toast, but he only sipped water and ran nervous hands through his hair.

By nine they were at the Ministry, dropping the boys in Ron’s office. Ron was joined by McGonagall and Hagrid. All three were potential witnesses, but would remain with the boys during the hearing until needed. 

“Miss Granger, may I have a word?” McGonagall nodded to the office door. The witches stepped into the corridor and McGonagall whispered Muffliato.

“If Harry loses, bring him to me and the boys immediately,” McGonagall said insistently. “I have a portkey to a safe house abroad ready to go.”

“That’s kidnapping,” Hermione admonished. 

“Yes,” McGonagall said. “But we need to have a plan in place.”

“We’re not going to lose, I promise,” Hermione said fiercely.

McGonagall eyed her with maternal pride. 

“I believe you, dear,” McGonagall said. “But do remember that we have a backup plan if things go sideways.”

***

Ginny Weasley took the stand first, and spouted lies, insinuations, and half-truths. However, after thirty minutes of easy questioning by her own counsel, Draco’s solicitor, E. Harvey Pepper, rose to his feet.

“Miss Weasley, you feel that Mr. Potter is incapable of caring for his children due to his work habits, is that correct?”

“Among other things, yes,” Ginny said primly. “He often worked in excess of 60 hours a week, he’s an absolute workaholic. He hardly ever sees the boys.”

“Miss Weasley, I have here the time records of Mr. Potter’s entire employment with the Auror’s office. As you can see here,” Pepper pointed at the bottom of the page. “Mr. Potter averaged 43.6 hours a week.”

“If you see here,” he flipped a page. “That average went down to 42.3 hours weekly after the children were born.”

“That doesn’t seem accurate, I would like to review those numbers,” Ginny sniffed.

“If you look at the subsequent pages, you will find signed statements from Head Auror Robards, Aurors Weasley and Johnson, and Harry Potter himself, stating that he worked a very reasonable schedule and was insistent on making it home to prepare dinner each night,” Pepper continued.

Ginny didn’t respond.

It went like this for an hour. Ginny accused Harry of traveling too much for work. Pepper noted that the Harpies had ten away games a year, and Harry usually only traveled three times annually.

Ginny claimed that Harry didn’t spend enough time with the boys. Pepper responded that in the last two years of their marriage, Ginny had been pictured with the boys in the Prophet twice, Harry 37 times.

Ginny stated that Harry was associating with known Death Eaters. Pepper produced the Wizengamot’s own decision to exonerate Draco years ago, and asked Ginny to produce any evidence whatsoever that Pansy or Daphne had ever been accused of Death Eater status.

Ginny was getting pissed, and Pepper was clearly enjoying himself.

“Miss Weasley, it has been alleged that you had an affair with Mr. Oliver Wood while married to Mr. Potter.”

“I know that’s what was said in the papers,” she turned to glare at Hermione, who smiled and waved. “But it was not Oliver and I who had an affair, though we are together now. Harry cheated on me for years with Hermione Granger.”

“Ginevra, you know that’s not true,” Arthur Weasley spoke loudly from the onlookers, rising to his feet.

“Order,” Kingsley said lazily, but took no further action. Arthur was an old friend, after all, and he did have a point.

“Stop acting like a child and own up to your actions,” Arthur admonished as Molly tugged at his arm, trying to make him sit. “You had an affair and ended your marriage, and now you’re lying to get what you want. I’m very disappointed in you, young lady.”

He turned and walked out of the courtroom.

“Miss Weasley,” Pepper continued questioning the clearly shaken witch. “I have signed statements from both Mr. Potter and Miss Granger denying any such affair, as well as the statement of your brother, Mr. Ronald Weasley, known long-time friend of both parties. As you can see here, we have about two dozen photos of you and Mr. Wood in compromising positions, dated several months before Mr. Potter filed for divorce. No such photos have been produced of Mr. Potter and Miss Granger.”

“No further questions,” Pepper said, taking a seat next to Harry.

Harry was called next, and Ginny’s solicitor didn’t have much to ask him. The poor attorney looked rather ragged at this point.

Then Pepper had Harry discuss how every single photo of Ginny and Oliver corresponded with times he had been doing something fun with the boys…Quidditch games, trips to the park, movies, carnivals. A particularly incriminating photo was taken while Harry and Hermione had wrangled both boys to a Healer checkup, the one situation that guaranteed obstinate fits from both kids. 

“Mr. Potter,” Pepper smiled at him. “It is my understanding that your marital status has recently changed.”

“Objection, the Potters’ divorce was nearly nine months ago, that’s hardly recent,” Ginny’s solicitor grasped at straws.

“You may answer,” Kingsley said, a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, yes, my marital status has recently changed,” Harry said cheerfully, locking eyes with Ginny. “I had the pleasure of marrying Pansy Parkinson yesterday.”

He watched Ginny’s face fall and flush for half a moment, then turned to smile at his wife.

“And it is also my understanding that the new Mrs. Potter has filed adoption paperwork for the children, currently pending approval?”

“Actually, correction, that paperwork was fast-tracked,” Percy Weasley spoke up. “It was approved first thing this morning.”

He winked subtly at Harry.

Pansy gasped with delight and squeezed Hermione. 

“I believe we have all of the information we need,” Kingsley said, stretching his arms above his head. “The parties may wait in separate antechambers.”

They shuffled out in silence, bottlenecking at the doorway, Ginny determined to leave first, dragging Oliver behind.

***

“After careful consideration, the Wizengamot has reached the following verdict,” a purple-nosed wizard said gravely.

Hermione saw Harry squeeze his wife’s hand and his jaw clenched.

“Weighing both parties statements, as well as the recent adoption of the children by a pureblood of a Sacred Twenty Eight lineage, we have decreed - ”

A collective breath was held by the room.

“In the matter of custody of James Arthur Potter and Sirius Ronald Potter, the court has determined that the children will remain in the full custody of Mr. Harry James Potter and Mrs. Pansy Penelope Potter. Ms. Ginevra Molly Weasley will be granted monthly visitation and one holiday per year, as will be determined at a later mediation. Good day.”

Molly wailed from across the court, and Ginny stomped out angrily, Oliver in tow. 

“Our boys!” Pansy threw her arms around her husband, who was staring straight ahead in shock. “Let’s go tell our boys.”

“We did it, Harry,” Hermione said, patting his back. 

“Wake up, mate,” Malfoy shoved him. 

A small smile appeared on Harry’s face.

“Did we just win?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Pansy said. 

“Oh thank Merlin,” his shoulders straightened and he kissed his wife. “The boys. I need to see the boys.”

“That’s what I was just saying,” Pansy grinned at him. 

“And that bitch is mental if she thinks she’s getting Christmas,” Pansy prattled. “She can have some American holiday. Thanksgiving or whatever. I want Christmas with my sons.”

They entered Ron’s office, where the boys, Ron, Hagrid, and McGonagall were waiting.

“We won,” Pansy announced.

To everyone’s surprise, it wasn’t Hagrid that broke the silence with a sob, but McGonagall.

She gathered all three boys into her arms and squeezed, then hastily wiped her eyes with a tartan handkerchief.

“This calls for a celebration,” she said thickly. “There’s a charity Quidditch game at Hogwarts tomorrow. Would you boys like to come watch the match with me?”

“Yes,” three voices immediately answered.

***

“You’re quiet,” Draco said, as they retired to his room that night.

It had been a raucous afternoon and evening, with trips to both Honeydukes and Wheezes, the three boys being spoiled far beyond reason. All of the adults were feeling especially generous. They had pancakes for dinner at James’ request, then they all played a game of hide-and-seek that spilled out into the garden. Sirius brought an end to the night by hiding behind a bush and promptly falling asleep, causing a bit of a panic until Granger performed a locating spell.

“I just have a lot on my mind,” she dismissed, removing her shirt and fumbling with the clasp of her bra.

“Let me,” he smirked at her.

“I’ve got it,” she said, mastering the clasp and removing the garment. She ignored his gaze on her breasts and reached for her pajamas.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do I need to guess?” He snipped.

“Everything’s fine,” she clearly lied. “It’s been a long day, and we have another long one ahead of us. Let’s just get some sleep.”

“Alright,” Draco said uneasily. “I love you, Granger.”

“Love you too,” she mumbled, falling asleep.

***

The four adults and three kids arrived at Hogwarts before the charity Quidditch match, all three boys wiggling with excitement. 

Hermione noticed that Malfoy was barely watching the game, glancing her way every five seconds, holding her hand a bit desperately, and listening to Scorpius’ constant game commentary. She wanted to reassure him, but didn’t know what to say.

The crowd went wild when the purple team’s Seeker rose with the Snitch after two hours. The whole crowd except Scorpius, that is, who was sprawled across Malfoy and Hermione’s laps, completely asleep.

Malfoy roused the boy and ruffled his hair. 

“What’d ya think, Scorp?” He asked. “Think you’ll play Quidditch at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius smiled sleepily. “Can I ride a broom right now?”

“You’re five,” his dad said, shaking his head.

“Please?” All three boys had rounded on the adults.

“You know, Mr. Malfoy, there are a few nice, easy school brooms I could loan you this afternoon, if you would like to take Scorpius on a little ride around the pitch,” McGonagall offered.

“Got three, Minerva?” Ron asked. She nodded.

“Oh, no,” Daphne said. “Don’t go too high, Ron.”

Ron had already thrown James onto his back and was hurrying off after McGonagall.

“Don’t go too fast, Harry,” Pansy said, as he and Sirius quickly followed.

“Don’t go upside down, Malfoy,” Hermione warned Draco, as Scorpius pulled his father towards the pitch.

All three men shot sheepish looks at the witches, then each hopped on a broom with a boy. Within minutes, three broomsticks were in the air, and the boys were whooping in delight.

“I can’t look,” Pansy said, covering her eyes. “I never knew being a mother would make me worry constantly.”

“How’s it all going?” Daphne asked, running a hand on her belly. “It must be weird to go from single and childless to married and a mother of two in a few days.”

“It’s great,” Pansy grinned, chancing a look at her husband and Sirius, who both waved to her. “It’s a lot, but I love all three of my men.”

“You’re doing beautifully, Pansy,” Hermione reassured her. “They’re really lucky to have you.”

At that moment, Malfoy and Scorpius swooped towards the ladies. Malfoy leaned off his broomstick far enough to peck Hermione on the cheek, then they flew off laughing.

“You’re blushing,” Daphne teased her. 

“He’s so besotted with you, it almost rivals Scorp’s adoration,” Pansy said. 

“Things have been progressing nicely, yes,” Hermione said. “But I’m moving here soon, and I don’t know what that means for us yet.”

“You should talk, then,” Daphne advised.

After all three men performed loops to the admonitions of their witches, they landed safely with the boys in one piece.

Sirius and James ran directly to Pansy to tell her all about their broomstick experiences.

Scorpius took a bit longer to dismount, apparently deep in an excited conversation with Malfoy. He finally jumped off and took off running for Hermione.

“Mummy!” He exploded. “Daddy said I could get a practice broom soon so I can learn to fly like him!”

All of the adults stared at Scorpius. Hermione felt something warm and terrifying rise in her chest. Scorpius had called her Mummy. 

She bent down to hug him, rubbing his back. 

“That’s great, Scorp,” she said softly. “You be careful up in the sky, ok?”

As she stood, she met Malfoy’s eye. He looked thunderstruck. He didn’t say a word on the way home, and suddenly remembered that he promised to bring Scorpius to Narcissa’s for dinner. Despite it being three in the afternoon, he insisted that the Malfoys leave for dinner immediately.

***

“What is going on, Malfoy?” Hermione snapped as soon as he entered the bedroom that evening. “You’ve been weird for days.”

“It’s been stressful,” he said lamely. “The custody thing and all.”

“No, you’ve been weird about me and Scorpius, not anything else,” she had her hands on her hips, which couldn’t be a good sign.

“I’m just trying to protect him,” Malfoy pressed his lips together.

“From what? From me?” She asked.

“Yeah,” he raised his voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, he fucking loves you and you’re leaving in a week and he doesn’t even know that!”

“I don’t know what to tell him, because I don’t know what role you want me to play here,” she was getting loud too. “Am I even going to be part of his life in a week? Part of your life?”

“I’ve been very clear about what I want,” he objected hotly.

“No, you haven’t been,” she shouted. “You completely shut down whenever he considers me as a mother figure.”

“I’m trying to protect my son,” he roared. 

“I’m not a danger to your son,” she yelled back.

“You will be if you break his heart,” Malfoy retorted at full volume. 

“I won’t,” she said, slightly quieter. 

“You’re leaving,” he yelled. “You think it won’t break Scorp’s heart? He already lost one mum, I can’t do that to him again.”

“So I’m not allowed to have a close relationship with Scorpius just in case we break up?” She said in a strangled voice. “What faith you have in our relationship.”

“That’s not - I’m just trying - you’re leaving - ”

“That’s right, I am leaving,” she announced. “Right now.”

Grabbing her bag, she marched to the floo and went home to her neglected flat, flopping into bed. In the morning she closed all floo connections and heavily warded her flat, then spent the day packing her belongings. Ready to leave, she shrunk everything she owned into her beaded bag and flooed to the one place she wanted to be.

***

“Miss Granger,” McGonagall said as Hermione ducked out of her hearth. “Is everything ok?”

Hermione shook her head, brushing ash off of her robes.

“Do you mind if I move in a bit early?” She asked. “Like, now?”

“Of course,” McGonagall said, motioning for Hermione to sit.

“Thanks, Prof - Headmistress,” Hermione said.

“Hermione, we are now colleagues. You can certainly call me Minerva,” the other woman said fondly.

“That might take some getting used to,” Hermione chuckled.

“You arrived at a precipitous time,” McGonagall said. “Poppy should be here in a few minutes for our weekly evening meeting.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” Hermione made to stand.

“Nonsense,” McGonagall said. “We drink scotch and gossip. I would like to formally invite you to join us weekly.”

“That sounds delightful,” Hermione responded as Poppy Pomfrey entered the office.

“I brought scones,” Pomfrey announced as she breezed in. “Oh, hello Professor Granger.”

“Hi,” Hermione offered. She felt like a little kid at a grown up party. 

McGonagall produced a bottle of scotch and three glasses, and poured generously. 

“Now, Hermione,” the headmistress said, taking a long sip. “Tell us what Mr. Malfoy did that made you flee London so abruptly.”

“Goodness, Minerva, let the scotch hit her bloodstream first,” Pomfrey admonished. 

“It’s fine,” Hermione shrugged. “We had a fight. I thought…I thought we were on our way to becoming a family. He made it clear that he doesn’t want that. I can’t see him right now.”

“Silly,” McGonagall announced. “Mr. Malfoy clearly doesn’t know what he wants. He is obviously in love with you, not to mention his son. Scorpius is head over heels for you.”

“Do you love Mr. Malfoy?” Pomfrey asked.

“I do,” she replied. “But it won’t work. He’s in London, I’m here, and neither of us is willing to give up our jobs. We can’t even get through a conversation about our future without yelling or snapping. I just…I’m going to miss Scorpius so much.”

“Does Mr. Malfoy know you’re here?” McGonagall asked.

“No, but he’ll figure it out,” she responded.

“Did you tell Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked beadily. 

“No, he’ll tell Draco,” Hermione said stubbornly. 

With a fair amount of serendipity, Harry’s head popped through the floo at that moment.

“Hey Minerva, have you heard from - dammit Hermione, you scared the shit out of me,” he exclaimed, noticing his friend. “You’re ok then?”

“I’m fine,” she said. 

“Floo me later,” he commanded, glaring at her lightly. “I want to yell at you.”

“Nine o’clock?” She asked.

“Fine,” he huffed, and disappeared.

“So Draco will know where I am in about five minutes,” Hermione sighed.

“This way he’ll know where to send apology flowers,” Pomfrey reasoned.

“Do you want him to apologize?” McGonagall asked.

“I don’t think it matters,” Hermione said. “We live in different countries. We can’t be a family long distance. I love him, but it won’t work.”

Madam Pomfrey delicately changed the subject, filling Hermione in on a few of the more accident-prone students she would be teaching. McGonagall had fallen into a thoughtful silence, sipping her scotch and staring out of the window.

***

Hermione unpacked slowly in her new living quarters that night. Her floo call with Harry had been brief, him expressing his displeasure at her unexpected departure, and her explaining her motivations. They had ended by bickering about which one of them was more impulsive and bullheaded, and promising to talk tomorrow. 

A ferret Patronus raced into her room.

Granger, I know you’re angry, but I really want to talk to you. I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Can you owl me? Potter is getting annoyed with me asking about you. Please. I’m so sorry.

She rolled her eyes at the ferret and kept unpacking. What was the point? It was over.

A few minutes later, Pansy’s owl flew in, carrying a messily rolled parchment. Tears dropped silently onto the drawing of a brunette stick figure holding hands with a small blonde stick figure.

Minerva McGonagall was a sensible woman. As Deputy Headmistress, she had often shaken her head at what she felt was Dumbledore’s meddling in other’s affairs. How he found the time, she would never understand. She had an entire school to run, she didn’t have the extra minutes to barge into anyone else’s business.

As a sensible educator and Headmistress, she also knew that having favorite students was ludicrous and a waste of time. Every student deserved a fair and unbiased education. But after a few scotches, she had once admitted to Poppy that she did have a few favorites in all of her years at Hogwarts - Dedalus Diggle, Sirius Black, Harry Potter, and (at the very top of the list) Hermione Granger.

Minerva had been sincere in her wish to have Hermione socialize with her and Poppy weekly, she had always enjoyed the young woman’s company. 

Minerva sighed and tapped her wand. She hated seeing Hermione so broken up. Minerva had also become quite fond of Scorpius Malfoy, and would happily accept him as a surrogate grandson along with Sirius and James. She glanced at the framed photo of the twins that sat on her desk, and made up her mind.

She walked to her hearth, and stuck her head into the Potions lab.

“Headmistress,” Slughorn said in greeting, setting down his bag of crisps and wiping his fingers on his jacket. “What can I do for you?”

“Horace, I have a proposition for you,” she said, stepping fully into the room. “And a favor to ask.”

***

Hermione was bored. Her lesson plans were immaculate, she was almost done unpacking (she glared at the dozen boxes piled in the corner, deciding to deal with that later), and she wasn’t hungry. She was lonely, if she had to admit to it. 

She ran her fingers listlessly over her perfectly organized bookshelves, but no titles caught her attention. She considered popping down to the kitchens to chat with some elves, or going to say hello to the Fat Lady. But that seemed like a lot of work.

She curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea and stared into her roaring fire. Her mind wandered. She wondered what Scorpius was up to. Sweet little guy.

An owl swooped in, and Hermione sighed. The owl dropped a rather large package on her coffee table and flew off. 

She tore at the brown wrapping paper, revealing a carton from Fortescue’s. Apple caramel crunch, her favorite. 

We went for ice cream today, and we missed you. Enjoy. - Scorpius and Draco

She summoned a spoon and dug in. After four bites, she was crying too hard to swallow, and sent the ice cream zooming into the freezer, the spoon to the sink. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and summoned a quill and parchment.

Thank you for the ice cream, it’s my favorite, as you know. I hope you had a lovely day together.

***

As he read Granger’s kind but impersonal note for the millionth time, Draco flopped into an armchair and glared out of the window.

There was a loud knock on his bedroom door, and he opened it to find Potter and Weasley.

“C’mon,” Ron said. “You’re coming downstairs and getting drunk with us.”

“No thanks,” Draco tried to shut the door.

“Not a request,” Potter said, bracing his foot on the door. “You’re going through some shit, we’re your friends, we’re all getting drunk.”

“Fine,” Draco huffed, following them to the sitting room.

“Drink,” Ron said, handing Draco a beer. 

“Is this going to turn into some how-dare-you-break-up-with-Granger thing?” Draco asked wearily, popping the cap of his bottle.

“Surprisingly, no,” Ron said. “We know you wouldn’t hurt Hermione. This is more of a drunken pep talk.”

“We’re here to try to explain the inner workings of our beloved Hermione’s mind,” Potter said.

“She’s barking,” Ron said, winking at Draco.

“She is not,” Potter objected. “She’s fucking devastated right now and it’s making her a bit barmy.”

“Why?” Draco asked.

“She loves you, mate. And she loves Scorp. She thinks you don’t want that. She thinks you’re not ready to commit.”

“She’s the one who scarpered,” Draco objected.

“She’s scared,” Ron interjected. “She’s never been in love before. And fucking Oliver messed with her head. And fucking Ginny. It’s a wonder she trusts anyone right now.”

“She can trust me,” Draco said.

“We know that,” Potter poured them all a shot. “That’s why we’re here, getting you drunk. We want to help.”

“What do I do?” Draco asked desperately.

“Drink this,” Potter commanded, passing him another shot. “Look, Hermione’s stubborn as hell. She’ll avoid you, just so she doesn’t have to face her feelings. You’re going to have to go to her.”

“Wanna tell me where she is, then?” Draco snarled.

“Hogwarts,” Ron answered, taking a shot. 

“I’ll go tomorrow,” Draco declared.

They drank for a few hours, Ron and Harry giving Draco some insight into Hermione, Harry and Draco giving Ron new-father advice, Draco and Ron teasing Harry about being the sexy young new Professor.

An owl arrived around midnight, and dropped a parchment in Draco’s lap, then flew towards Pansy’s bedroom.

Mr. Malfoy,

If it is convenient for you, I would like to have a meeting with you tomorrow morning at eight o’clock. Nothing to be alarmed about, but it is rather urgent. Mrs. Potter will also hopefully be joining us, perhaps you can travel together. I have opened the floo to my office for your arrival.

Best,

Minerva McGonagall

“Ooohhh,” Ron drunkenly laughed and pointed at Draco. “You’re in trooouuuble.”

“If she gives you detention,” Harry chuckled. “See if you can serve it with me. I’m a professor now.”

“Shove off, Potter,” Draco kicked at him and missed.

“What d’ya think she wants?” Ron asked.

“My body, probably,” Draco took his last shot. “She strikes me as a witch who likes tattoos.”

***

Harry had offered to watch Scorpius for the morning while Pansy and Draco headed to Hogwarts for their mysterious meeting.

“Thank you both for joining me,” McGonagall said seriously after they were settled with cups of tea. “I have something important to discuss with you.”

They exchanged weary glances, then turned their attention back to the headmistress.

“Mr. Malfoy,” she started. “Professor Slughorn has expressed the desire to resume his retirement sooner rather than later. I am in need of a Potions Professor. I would like to offer you the position.”

He was stunned. He had never considered teaching before. Before Scorp came along, he had pretty much despised children. And he wasn’t celebrated for his patience, which seemed important when dealing with teenagers. But…it sounded kind of great. 

“Horace has agreed to stay on for the first term, to get you acclimated, but you would be handling the class instruction. I know it’s very last-minute, so I’d like you to work with Horace for a few months.”

“Of course, Scorpius would be welcome to move into the castle with you. I’m sure that would make Sirius and James very pleased,” the headmistress continued.

He and Scorp would be with Granger. They could raise him. They could be a family.

“I’ll do it,” he said quickly. “Yes, absolutely, that would be fantastic.”

McGonagall smiled fondly at him. 

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll owl you soon and we can sit down to discuss details.”

“Now, Ms. Parkinson - I apologize, Mrs. Potter - ” she started.

“I can’t teach,” Pansy jumped in. “You know I wasn’t a very good student, and I’ve never had a job.”

“Madam Pomfrey is overwhelmed,” McGonagall said. “She needs an apprentice, someone who will be ready to take over when she decides to retire. Harry mentioned that you have an aptitude for healing magics, I thought you might be interested.”

“Oh,” Pansy said, frowning for a moment, then smiling. “Well, sure, I’m moving here with Harry and the boys anyway, I might as well make myself useful.”

“You’re wonderful with the twins,” McGonagall said. “I’m sure the students will love you.”

“Well, with all of that settled, I’ll let you enjoy your days. Mrs. Potter, come see me after your family gets settled and we’ll get you started. Mr. Malfoy, expect my owl this week.”

“I can’t wait to tell Harry,” Pansy beamed. 

“Headmistress…do you mind if I tell Granger myself?” He asked. 

“Of course,” she said. “But sooner rather than later, I’d like to announce the changes to the rest of the staff soon.

“Are there any restrictions on professors dating?” He asked.

McGonagall scoffed at him.

“Professors Sprout and Hooch have been in a relationship for decades. Just keep it appropriate in front of the students.”

***

Hermione looked up from her novel at a familiar voice outside of her door.

“Stop being a weenie, Draco,” Hermione heard Pansy snap.

“She doesn’t want to see me,”  she heard Malfoy protest.

“Knock on the gosh darn door,” Pansy seethed.

“Gosh darn?” Malfoy questioned.

“I’m a mother now,” Pansy sniffed. “I’m trying to watch my language. Now knock on the fucking door.”

Hermione didn’t catch all the things that Malfoy grumbled, but a few phrases made it through the door.

“…bossy…meddling…don’t know what to say…gosh darn…why don’t you knock on the fucking door?”

“Ok,” she heard Pansy cackle, then a quick rap on her door and footsteps running away.

“Fucking Pansy,” Draco growled.

Hermione slowly approached the door and opened it to Malfoy. He looked wretched, glaring after Pansy’s retreating form. 

“Can we talk?” He asked.

“I suppose since you came all the way here,” she huffed, sitting back down and pointedly opening her book. Ok, she was being petulant, she knew that. She just couldn’t help herself.

“I’m actually at Hogwarts for another reason, but I am happy to have the chance to talk with you. I have news,” he declared.

“Oh?” She asked coolly.

“Still mad?” He asked. 

“A little,” she huffed.

“Should I apologize again or tell you my news?” He asked.

“News,” she said, bored, flipping a page in her book.

“I just accepted the Potions Professor position,” he blurted.

She sat her book down beside her and considered him for a moment.

“Congratulations,” she said, blank-faced.

“Dammit, Granger,” he said. “I’ve tried apologizing, I’ve tried begging, I’ve tried traveling to fucking Scotland to get you to talk to me. Have you considered you’re not the only one who’s angry?”

She put the book aside and crossed her arms.

“I will admit, I did not handle it well when Scorpius started to think of you as a mother. I was feeling some very confusing feelings and I reacted by shutting down, and embarrassingly, ran to my mother. I should have communicated with you,” he took a deep breath.

“But you ran off and moved to another fucking country during our first argument. You’ve also been shit with communicating. You actively avoided talking to me about moving here. And I’m furious that you left without saying goodbye to Scorpius. I don’t know what to say to the kid.”

Hermione felt tears welling up, and squeezed her eyes closed. She knew she needed to explain herself, but, dammit, this was painful.

“I checked the dates of those pictures,” she whispered. “Of Oliver and Ginny. Every single date, Oliver had picked a fight with me that day. He would pick a fight, and then go out and fuck my friend. I…I’ve been acting for a long time like the break up didn’t bother me. But it did. It hurt and I may have panicked when you and I started to fight. I had to get out, I couldn’t breathe. So I ran to the only mother figure I still have.”

“I would never hurt you like Wood did,” Malfoy said. “Granger, we are two of the most stubborn and opinionated people I know. If we’re going to be together, there’s going to be arguments. But I would never pick a fight with you to justify cheating. That’s pathetic.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you’re better than that.”

“So…are we going to be together?” He asked, his voice strained.

“We would have to communicate a lot better,” she was still looking down.

“And no running away,” he said.

“And we need to have a long conversation about what role you want me to have in Scorpius’ life.”

“Oh, that’s not a long conversation,” Draco said easily. “I want you to be his mum.”

Hermione’s head popped up in surprise.

“Granger, Scorp and I are moving into this very castle. I bet we could talk to McGonagall about getting family living quarters like the Potters have. If you want that, of course. I’m not trying to pressure you into anything.”

“I need a glass of wine,” she said abruptly. “You?”

“Sure, 9:00 in the morning is as good of a time as any,” he shrugged.

“Where’s Scorp?” She asked, returning with two coffee cups filled with wine. He raised his eyebrows.

“I haven’t unpacked my wine glasses yet,” she shrugged. “Or they’re at Harry’s, I'm not sure.”

“Scorp is with Potter,” he said. “Pansy and I both had a meeting with McGonagall. Pans is apprenticing with Pomfrey now.”

Hermione burst out laughing.

“I swear, Minerva,” she shook her head. 

“What?” He asked.

“Oh, I told McGonagall all about our fight and situation the night I got here. She plied me with scotch. I knew she was planning something. She’s as bad as Dumbledore, such a schemer.”

“I think she just wants you to be happy,” Malfoy said. “And for some reason she thinks that I can make you happy.”

“You do,” she said quietly. “You and Scorpius.”

“So, marry me then,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“Be my wife,” he said. “Be Scorpius’ mum.”

“Are you proposing right now?” she asked.

“Oh, um…here,” he said, patting down his pockets and pulling out a ring box. “I’ve been carrying this around since Potter and I went to Gringotts.”

She took the proffered box, but didn’t open it. She reached for her wine and gulped.

“We’ve been together for just a few months,” she said.

“Uh huh.”

“We just had a huge fight.”

“Yeah.”

“And you want to get married.”

“Yes.”

“Are you insane?”

“Probably.”

She launched herself across the sofa and into his arms, kissing him eagerly. He sunk his hands into her hair and responded enthusiastically.

When they broke apart, she handed the ring box back to him unopened.

They smirked at each other for a moment.

“That was the worst proposal in all of human history, wasn’t it?” He asked, chuckling.

“Yeah, it really was,” she laughed, crashing her lips into his again as he wrapped his arms around her. “But the answer is yes.”

“Really?” He broke into a boyish grin, and his resemblance to his son had never been stronger.

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she snuggled into his arms.

“Ok,” he said, breaking away as she kissed his neck. “Let’s put a pin in this. Give me…just a little time to do this right. We’re not engaged, yet. I want us to have a good proposal story to tell Scorpius.”

“I love you,” she said. “I’m going to talk to Minerva about family living quarters right away.”

“I love you, too,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

***

Draco was on top of the world for the rest of the day, but had a difficult conversation to get through before he rested.

“Scorp, I bet you’ve been wondering what’s going on,” he started after the third reading of The Naughty Dragon.

“Where did my Granger go?” Scorpius asked his recent favorite question. 

“I’m trying to explain, squirt, hold on,” Draco said fondly.

“I overreacted when you called Granger Mummy,” Draco confessed.

“You got mad,” Scorpius said.

“And I wasn’t mad, exactly, buddy. I was…sad. And being sad made me angry.”

“Why were you sad?”

“Because your mummy died,” Draco said gently. “I loved her very much, and she loved us very much. I wasn’t ready for you to call another woman your mummy.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Scorpius said.

“No, bud, you didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t remember Victoria, and I’m very sad that you didn’t get to know her. Sometimes I get angry because she was taken away from us. She would’ve been a wonderful mummy. But she’s not here anymore, and, well, you have another woman who loves you just as much as Victoria did.”

“My Granger?”

“Yes,” Draco smiled. “Your Granger.”

“When I overreacted, it hurt Granger’s feelings, and we had a disagreement. She decided to go away for work for a few days,” he continued.

“I want her to come back,” Scorpius pouted.

“I have a better idea,” Draco said. “How would you feel about moving to Hogwarts with Granger instead?”

“With James and Sirius too?” Scorpius said, tossing his stuffy in the air.

“Yep, we’ll all be together.”

“Can we go tomorrow?” Scorpius asked. 

“Not tomorrow, but soon,” Draco said. 

He tucked the small boy into his arms.

“I have to talk to you about one more thing,” Draco said.

“K,” Scorpius was making his stuffy dance.

“I asked your Granger to marry me,” he said. “Is that ok with you?”

“Yeah!” Scorpius shouted. “So she’ll be my mummy and my Granger?”

“Yes, but it’s up to you what you call her. You can keep saying my Granger, or mummy, whatever you want.”

“How about Mum?” Scorpius said. “Mummy was my mummy and my Granger is my Mum?”

“I think that’s perfect,” Draco kissed his son’s head.

“Now, Scorp, you can’t tell anyone yet that I’m going to marry Granger. I want to give her a beautiful ring and make her feel really special before we announce it. Can you keep a secret?”

“Yeah,” Scorpius yawned.

“Even from Nana?” Draco teased.

“I’ll try,” Scorpius said as he fell asleep.

Two days later, there was an insistent knock on the door of Hermione’s living quarters. She opened it to find Scorpius, decked out in very fancy little robes, his hair combed neatly and definitely full of gel.

“My Granger, do you want to come outside and play with me?” He asked quite formally, wiggling with excitement.

“Sure, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she said, slipping into her trainers, taking his hand, and letting him lead her onto the grounds, chattering away. By the Black Lake stood Malfoy, back turned to them, his dress robes rustling in the breeze.

“Daddy, we’re here. And I didn’t have to trick my Granger or anything. I just asked her nice, like you said,” Scorpius announced loudly, running to his dad’s side. 

“Thanks, big guy,” Draco grinned, then he and Scorpius both dropped to one knee in front of Hermione. Every nerve in her body lit up. Her eyes misted over. She had known it was coming, but it was here. Her family was here.

“My Granger, will you please be my mum?” Scorpius asked very formally, holding out a bouquet of daisies.

“Granger, will you marry me?” Draco asked, extending a box with a stunning diamond and ruby ring.

“Oh,” Hermione exclaimed, dropping to her knees and pulling them both into a tight embrace. “Oh, of course! I love you both so much.”

Malfoy pulled her into a searing kiss, then she heard a light applause behind them. Pansy, Harry, Ron, Daphne, McGonagall, and Hagrid were ambling towards them, James and Sirius running ahead.

“I thought we could all celebrate,” Draco said, still not releasing her. “Pansy has champagne and snacks.”

They rose to their feet and Scorpius ran off to play with the twins, shedding his formal robes immediately. Malfoy and Hermione graciously accepted their friends’ congratulations, never once dropping one another’s hands. 

***

“That ring is stunning,” Daphne swooned, twisting Granger’s finger so she could inspect it at every angle. “Malfoy heirloom?” 

“My great-grandmother’s ring,” Draco replied. “My father and grandmother despised her, she was known to be outspokenly progressive and genuinely kind and affectionate with the house elves. It seemed fitting for my outspoken and kind future wife.”

“Come on, mate, you’re making the rest of us look bad,” Ron groaned. “Daphne said she liked purple, so I went to the shop and picked an amethyst ring I thought she’d like. I learned the word amethyst! I didn’t know I had to have a thoughtful backstory.”

“I love my ring, darling, and that is a thoughtful backstory. You always consider what will make me happy,” Daphne reassured him with a kiss on the cheek. “Not everything has to be an heirloom. We’re starting our own traditions.”

Draco eventually tugged Granger away from their friends, settling under a large tree and wrapping his arms around her.

“Now we have a nice proposal story for Scorp,” he said, burying his nose in her hair. “Much better than my tossing a box at you and babbling incoherently, right?”

“Not just a nice story for Scorp,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. She gestured to her midsection. “Our daughter as well.”

Draco’s eyes flew open, and he let out a burst of hysterical laughter. 

“Granger, are you pregnant?” He exclaimed in a whisper, both of his hands landing lightly on her stomach. 

She nodded.

“A girl? A little girl?” His face was shining with both happiness and tears.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I just found out yesterday, and I didn’t want that bit of information to influence your decision to propose. I didn’t want you feel like you had to marry me,” she confessed quietly.

“The only reason that I have to marry you is that I’m fucking crazy in love with you, as is our son,” he said, squeezing her close. A baby! Granger’s baby! “This is just icing on the cake. A little girl!”

“She’s due in April,” Granger said. “Plenty of time for us to bicker about the name.”

“A constellation name, if I can throw my two sickles in,” he teased.

“I’ll consider it,” she nodded. “Cassiopeia is lovely.”

“Ugh, yeah, we will be bickering about the name,” he said, kissing her lightly. “So April, huh?”

He did some quick calculations in his head. 

“Reverse cowgirl,” he realized. “I was in a sex coma, I forgot to cast the spell.”

“We both did,” she said. “Completely your fault, I had two orgasms, you only had one. My sex coma was double yours.”

“Talk dirty to me some more, Granger,” he leaned down and whispered in her ear.  

“Scorpius is right there,” she nodded, raising her lips to kiss his jaw. “Keep it in your pants, Draco.”

“Draco, now?” He smirked. Fuck, did he like the sound of that. Granger, his wife, calling him Draco. 

“We’ll both be Malfoy soon, love,” she said. “It would be silly to call you Malfoy now.”

“I completely disagree,” Malfoy shook his head. “To quote our son, you’re my Granger.”

“Granger-Malfoy,” she said firmly. “It will be less confusing for the students than two Professor Malfoys.”

“Still Granger to me, love,” he looped his arms around her waist and they silently, contentedly, watched their son play with his friends.

***

“Scorpius, stop buzzing about like a mental insect and help me unpack my books,” Draco said in exasperation. “Darling, are you sure McGonagall said there are no more extra bookshelves in the castle?”

“Yes, and she had a good laugh about it,” Granger huffed, placing a few knick-knacks on the mantle. “I’ll buy some more, we need at least three.”

“Scorp, how would you feel about sleeping in the sitting room so we can have a library?” Draco called to his son.

“Mum already said no,” Scorpius called back.

“Teaming up on me already?” Draco objected.

“Have either of you considered getting rid of a few hundred books?” Harry asked as he knocked on their open door.

“No,” they responded.

“How are you settling in?” Harry asked, high fiving Scorpius as the boy ran into the room.

“Almost done unpacking,” Draco said, brushing his hands on his robes. “Then we’re going to take Scorp on a walk around the castle.”

“Pop over for dinner tonight,” Harry said. “We’re right next door and I think Pansy mentioned Beef Wellington.”

“We should all have dinner together every night and then me and Sirius and James can play every night and it will be the best! See, Mum, I said we should all move into a castle and be best friends forever and we did!”

“Maybe you’re a Seer, little guy,” Harry said. “Or maybe you just have really good ideas.”

“Probably both,” Scorp shrugged, running away to tackle his stuffies on his bed.

***

The twins had convinced Harry and Pansy to let Scorpius sleep over after Beef Wellington. The adults had agreed, but decided they would have to work out some boundaries regarding overnights. Tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

“With our luck, they’ll devise a secret passage between their bedrooms,” Harry groaned. 

“Shh…” Pansy cautioned. “Please don’t put ideas in their heads.”

“And the Marauder’s Map is still well-hidden, correct? Don’t want the twins channeling their namesakes before they’re school-aged,” Hermione cautioned.

“I have it under so many enchantments, it would take me a week to get to it myself. I have nightmares about them getting their paws on that map.”

***

Hermione and Draco headed to bed that night while chattering about the boys and bickering about the bookshelves. Once under the covers, Hermione snuggled into his chest.

“I can’t believe we’re having a baby,” she felt his voice rumble in his chest.

“Still happy about it?” She asked.

“Fucking thrilled,” he stated. “I just can’t wrap my head around how good my life is right now.”

“I agree,” she said. “Six months ago, if you had told me I would be engaged to Draco Malfoy and pregnant with his baby, I would’ve checked myself into St. Mungo’s for mental testing.”

“When can we tell Scorp about his little sister?” Draco asked, playing idly with the strap of her tank top.

“A week or two,” Hermione responded, her fingers curling in his chest hair. “After my next appointment, I just want to make sure she’s developing properly.”

“Can I go with you to the appointment?” He asked, dragging her top over her head.

She pretended she didn’t hear him murmur, Merlin, fucking bigger already, as he admired her tits, and continued their conversation.

“Absolutely,” she nodded, wiggling out of her pajama pants and reaching for his drawstring. “And once we know that she’s healthy, we can tell everyone.”

He had latched his lips onto her breast, but he was listening. 

“I think Pansy already knows,” he mumbled, moving to her other breast. 

“Yeah, she was eyeing the sparkling juice I was drinking pretty hard,” Hermione sighed, grasping him through his pants. 

“Speaking of pretty hard,” he thrust into her hand and raised his eyebrows at her.

“Lazy segue,” she scoffed, pushing his remaining clothes off. “Not your best work.”

“I’ll just stop talking and use my mouth in a better way, then,” he smirked, then dropped between her legs and proceeded to drive her crazy.

After she came, Hermione quickly moved to reciprocate. Draco fell apart quickly in her mouth, then gathered her into a tight embrace.

“I know it’s been rushed, and rather chaotic, but our relationship has made me happier than I ever thought I could be,” he murmured into her neck.

“I didn’t even know if I wanted this, the wife and mother thing,” she responded. “But the moment I met Scorpius, I fell in love. And then I fell in love with you, and it all just worked out perfectly.”

“I knew you loved him first,” Draco pouted.

“Find me someone who wouldn’t fall in love with that precious boy at first sight,” she poked him teasingly. “You take a bit of warming up to.”

“That’s just a miniature version of me, you know. You fell in love with little bitty me,” he teased back. “Kinda makes me think you’ve always had a thing for me, been pining for me since first year.”

“Oh, sure,” he couldn’t see her in the dark, but he somehow heard her roll her eyes. “I was totally into the pointy-faced little bigot who harassed my friends and me. I had the hots for you from moment one.”

“I figured,” he said, tickling her behind the knees and avoiding her instinctive kicks. “I am pretty much irresistible.”

“You mispronounced intolerable,” she chided, pouncing on him, straddling his waist. “You’re bloody intolerable, my love.”

“Yet you plan on tolerating me for the rest of our lives,” he scoffed, grinding his newly-hard cock into her.

“I’m an incredibly tolerant woman,” she squeaked as his cock drove into her.

“I guess you’ll have to put up with this intolerable behavior until one of us croaks,” he grunted, thrusting into her several times as her eyes rolled back in her head.

“I’m a witch of unmatched tolerance,” she moaned as she lowered her head to bite his shoulder, causing him to double his speed.

“I’m sorry - ” he ground out as he reached for her tits and arse. “I shouldn’t subject you to such boorishness.”

“Quite alright, as long as you apologize in this manner,” she gasped as he latched onto her right nipple.

“Can I stop trying to be clever and just fuck you now?” He asked desperately as she swiveled her hips on top of him.

“God, yes, please,” she threw her head back as he grasped both of her hips and thrust frantically until they had both finished. They summoned their pajamas and fell asleep wrapped around one another.

When Scorpius launched himself into their bed the following morning, he cuddled between them, and they regaled him with stories of each other’s youthful misadventures. 

SIX YEARS LATER

Hermione and Pansy made their way to the Headmistress’s office for their weekly meeting. Today they were day-drinking to celebrate the start of a new school year tomorrow. Some traditions were sacred, and the witches always made time for scotch and gossip.

Minerva and Poppy were waiting, scotch in hand, chuckling together as the other witches arrived.

“Ladies, come, come, we have much to discuss,” McGonagall waved them in, passing them full tumblers.

“None for me, thanks,” Pansy demurred, dropping a hand to her stomach.

“You found a cure?” Hermione squeaked, her own hand flying to Pansy’s stomach. 

Her friend nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“That mysterious potion that your husband has been tinkering with…Poppy and I came across something similar in a Muggle medical text. Draco made some minor magical adjustments, and it worked. Harry and I are having a baby!”

McGonagall produced pumpkin juice for Pansy, and the women toasted gleefully.

“Do you have a name picked out?” Poppy asked.

“Harry is determined that we don’t find out the gender, so we have two names. Rubeus Draco or Lily Hermione.”

“Thanks, Pans,” Hermione rested her head on the other witch’s shoulder.

“And you're godmother, of course,” Pansy continued. “We’ll ask Draco to be godfather.”

“Now, down to business,” McGonagall said briskly, digging in her desk drawer. “The Sorting tomorrow. Do we all have our wagers placed?”

“Yes, but I want to change my bet regarding Sirius,” Poppy said, pulling out her list. “Five sickles say he’s going Hufflepuff.”

“Insane,” Pansy interjected. “My boys are pure Gryffindor, just like their father.”

“Nah, I have Sirius to Gryffindor, James to Slytherin,” Hermione sipped her drink.

“I notice that we all have Scorpius headed straight to Ravenclaw,” Minerva reviewed her notes.

“He’s just such a bright boy,” Poppy said. “And his mother’s tutoring hasn’t hurt either.”

“Just helping him realize his potential,” Hermione said humbly, smirking just a bit.

“Hermione, he has the entire first year curriculum memorized,” Minerva scoffed. “Orion is four and he already knows the twelve uses of dragon’s blood. And Lyra can brew potions that I’ve seen third years struggle with. She’s five! I’m putting money on all three of your children ending up in Ravenclaw.”

“Oh come on, I want one Gryffindor,” Hermione moaned.

“Have more kids and raise them dumber,” Pansy advised.

“Merlin help me, if you say that in front of Draco I will hex your ears off,” Hermione scrunched her face at Pansy. “He would have a dozen kids if I agreed. Don’t put ideas in his head.”

“He can’t have any more children, he’s run out of room to tattoo their constellations on his arms,” Minerva said wisely. 

“His right forearm has just enough room for one more,” Hermione grinned. “In case he convinces me to try one last time.”

“Are you going to budge?”Poppy asked.

“Oh, almost certainly,” Hermione said. “But don’t tell him that.”

***

“Hey beautiful,” Draco said as he entered their living quarters, tugging at his tie. “Did you have fun getting drunk with our boss?”

“I always do,” she winked at him. “And I’m not drunk, I’m delightfully tipsy.”

“Does delightfully tipsy in anyway resemble very randy?” He asked, leaning down to kiss her.

“Funny enough, it does,” she said.

“Kids are still at Hagrid’s?” He asked, pulling her jumper over her head.

“We have two hours,” she said, reaching for his belt buckle.

“Great, five minutes of sex and then a nice long nap,” he joked.

“I want at least seven minutes,” she objected, following him to their bedroom. “Make it worth my while.”

“I’ll give you ten minutes, but you have to be on top,” he kissed her. “You do all the work.”

“Eight minutes, but I’ll only do four minutes on top,” she countered, sucking on his neck.

“Six minutes, I’ll get on top, but I’m not even going to try to get you off,” he teased.

“Four minutes, I’ll get on top, but you have to get me off after,” she said.

“Two minutes, you just lay there, I do all the work, I don’t have to get you off, and I get to use your tits as pillows while I nap,” he said. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Draco Malfoy,” she said, kissing him. “Deal. Two minutes of mediocre sex and a nice long nap.”

Laughing, Draco pushed her back onto the bed. They never did manage to fit in a nap, but had a lovely afternoon.

***

“Has Hagrid brought the firsties into the Hall yet?” Harry asked Minerva as he arrived in the teacher’s lounge. 

“We still have about ten minutes,” Minerva glanced at her watch.

“Pansy is on her way, a third year scraped her knee on the moving staircase,” Harry said. “Where are Hermione and Draco?”

“I’m sure they’re on the way, they certainly won’t miss Scorpius’ Sorting,” Minerva said, taking a sip of tea. “I’m surprised you’re not poking your head out to wave at the twins when they arrive.”

“I promised not to embarrass them. You would think being The Chosen One would be impressive to eleven-year-olds, but all I hear about is how uncool and embarrassing I am.”

“Well, good thing they have me around to show them how a debonair, suave wizard acts,” Draco snarked as he entered the lounge.

“They just think your tattoos are cool,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“My tattoos are cool,” Draco said, sidling up to them, arm around Hermione’s shoulders. Two curly-haired blond children were at their heels.

“Did I show you my latest one?” He asked Minerva, pushing up his right sleeve. The Headmistress looked with interest at the rune for ‘family’ that now joined the Lyra and Orion constellations and large ‘Granger’ tattoo that he had added years ago.

“Very nice, Professor Malfoy,” she smiled at him. “Although, I still find it ridiculous that you call your wife ‘Granger.’”

“Old habits are hard to break,” he shrugged, kissing Hermione’s cheek, then turning toward his youngest children, who were starting to bicker.

“I’m gonna be in Slytherin, like Dad,” Orion said to his older sister bossily.

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna be a Gryffindor like Mum,” Lyra said.

“It will be the complete opposite of that,” Draco grinned at them. “O, you are exactly like your mother. Gryffindor, I guarantee it. And Ly, you’re a Slytherin. You’ve been a Slytherin since the moment you were born.”

“What’s that mean?” Lyra asked.

“You’ve been manipulating me since birth,” Draco huffed.

“No, you’ve just bent to her every whim since you laid eyes on her,” Hermione scoffed. “I think Lyra might be our Hufflepuff.”

“What’s Scorp gonna be?” Lyra challenged her father.

“Ravenclaw,” her parents responded immediately.

“What’ll James and Sirius be?” Orion asked.

“Gryffindor,” Pansy said, arriving at the last minute. “I tried my best, but they’re undoubtedly Gryffindor.”

They took their places at the Professor’s table. A small round table had been added nearby years ago for Scorpius, Sirius, and James, and was now occupied by Lyra, Orion, and Rose Weasley (she had bolted from her parents at the Gryffindor table as soon as she saw her best friend Lyra).

Hermione waved at Ron, Daphne, and their children, who had come to watch the Sorting and cheer for their nephews (and Ron loved the feast). She scanned the brood of gingers. Sitting between Daphne and Ron were the triplets (Merlin, no family multiplied quite like the Weasleys) Robert, Rupert, and Richard, and the almost-toddler Rebecca. Ron held newborn Rachel in his arms. 

Minerva made her way to the podium and gave the usual beginning of term announcements, then began the Sorting.

“Malfoy, Scorpius,” she finally announced.

Scorpius bounded up to the front, winking at the Headmistress as he shoved the hat onto his blond head.

“Gryffindor!” The hat shouted instantaneously.

Hermione and Harry exchanged high fives and smug looks. Ron whooped loudly across the hall. Hermione smacked her husband’s arm delightedly.

“I thought Ravenclaw for sure,” Draco said, giving Scorpius a thumbs up and big smile.

They waited for “Potter, James,” to be called.

“Slytherin!” The hat said after a few moments of consideration. Pansy whooped in victory and Daphne started the applause.

“Potter, Sirius,” Minerva announced.

“Hufflepuff!” the hat yelled.

Pansy and Harry looked at each other, shocked.

“Awesome!” Teddy Lupin shouted, his Hufflepuff prefect’s badge shining on his robes. He waved Sirius over to sit with his friends.

***

The next morning, Hermione kissed Draco after breakfast in the Great Hall, and practically pranced to her classroom. The first Charms lesson of the day would be first year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.

As students began to file in, she waited for her son. Scorp had warned Draco endlessly about embarrassing him (Scorp didn’t find his own dad any cooler than the twins found theirs), but seemed to instinctively trust Hermione. She was really going to try to not be humiliating. However, seeing him in his little Gryffindor robes made her want to wrap him in her arms and read him The Naughty Dragon. Her adorable, sweet little boy…ahem, young man.

He ambled in, chatting with two other Gryffindors, and took a seat in the front row.

“Hi Mum,” he said, reaching for his textbook.

“Professor Granger-Malfoy,” she admonished quietly. “We talked about this.”

“Fine, My Professor,” he scrunched his nose at her, and she scrunched hers right back. She turned to her blackboard for a moment, as her eyes were a bit misty and that wasn’t the proper way to begin a lesson.

***

“How was your first week, sport?” Draco asked as he and Scorpius walked towards the Black Lake.

“Daaaad, I’m eleven, don’t call me sport,” Scorp complained.

“Sorry, bud.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes. 

“It was good, the blokes in my dorm are cool,” Scorpius said.

“What’s your favorite class?” Draco asked.

“Mum’s, for sure,” Scorpius teased, nudging his dad.

“I’ll make a potion master out of you someday, just you wait,” Draco huffed. 

“I just really like Charms,” Scorpius shrugged. “And Mum.”

“Remember when you met her?” Draco said.

“Yep,” Scorpius said.

“You know, if your rascally arse hadn’t run off like a lunatic that day, our whole lives would be different,” Draco said. “Your misbehavior brought us Granger, Lyra, and Orion. Not to mention the Potters. Nice work, big guy.”

“Uncle Ron said I’m the ultimate wingman,” Scorpius bragged.

“Do you have any idea what that means?” Draco asked.

“Nope,” Scorpius said, dashing off to join Sirius, James, and his siblings on a blanket by the lake. Draco strolled to a nearby blanket, where his enchanting wife was unpacking a picnic basket and chattering at Harry and Pansy.

As he sat, he turned to Hermione, wondering if it was time to broach the ‘one more kid’ topic again. He would love to have another daughter. He’d consider Cassiopeia this time, Cassie was nice. Or a boy, Regulus was a good family name. 

“You’re naming children again, aren’t you?” Hermione asked, as she followed his gaze to her midsection.

“One more?” He asked hopefully. 

“One more,” she smirked. “But then I’m closed for business.”

“If it’s a girl, her middle name better be Pansy, I can’t believe you went with Lyra Harriet,” Pansy reached over Draco and grabbed a biscuit.

“We didn’t know if we would ever have a boy and I promised Harry like a million years ago that I’d name my first kid after him,” Hermione shrugged.

“And then Orion Ronald, still no Pansy,” she elbowed Draco hard.

“I get celestial first names, Granger gets middle names,” he shrugged, shoving her. 

“Well, get to making another one and Pansy is the middle name. I’ll watch your little monsters tomorrow, get to it. And if it’s a boy, Parkinson for the middle name…or Parker would be fine.”

“Honey, stop bullying our friends,” Harry kissed his wife. “Ok, so, get your parchments out…who had Scorpius to be the first in the hospital wing?”

“Me,” Pansy replied. “That’s five sickles.”

“Shoot, I guessed Sirius,” Draco grumped.

“I had James as first to lose house points,” Hermione announced.

“Me too,” everyone replied.

“That’s a wash then,” Pansy said. “I suppose that was inevitable.”

“Teddy was the first to get detention, anyone have that?” Hermione asked. 

“Oh, I did,” Harry laughed. “Thought his godfather wouldn’t give him detention for being late every single lesson. I gave him lines and a talking-to.”

“I still can’t wrap my mind around Harry Potter lecturing anyone on proper school behavior,” Hermione laughed. “Could Teddy keep a straight face?”

“Barely,” Harry conceded. “I had to use my ‘disappointed dad’ voice. Which I learned from Remus, so it felt right.”

“First to call us Mum or Dad in front of their classmates and absolutely die of embarrassment?” Pansy asked. “I had my money on Scorp.”

“Didn’t Sirius call you Dad in your first lesson?” Draco asked Harry. “He called me Draco twice on Thursday.”

“Yes, but James broke first,” Hermione laughed. “He called Minerva ‘Granny Minnie’ right after the Sorting.”

“Called it, I had James,” Draco announced. “First to visit Hagrid?”

“Sirius,” Pansy said. “Day two, Hagrid said Sirius was feeling a bit homesick. Which is…mildly ridiculous considering he literally grew up here, but also very sweet.”

“I guessed Sirius,” Harry said. “He and Hagrid have always adored each other, and he loves the magical creatures.”

“Keep an eye on him,” Hermione warned. “He’ll be smuggling baby dragons with Hagrid if we’re not careful.”

“Did you ever decide when to give the boys the Map?” Draco asked as he stretched his legs across the blanket. 

“Thirteen,” Harry sighed. “That’s how old I was. I know I’ll regret it, I know it’s the worst idea I’ve ever had…but my dad and Sirius and Remus would be so fucking disappointed in me if I didn’t pass it on. I only haven’t given it to Teddy because Andromeda threatened me within an inch of my life if I considered it. So I taught him the Patronus charm instead. His Patronus is a werewolf, which is pretty ‘bad ass,’ if he does say so himself.”

“Certainly not the worst Patronus,” Hermione commented lightly, eyeing her husband.

“You’re mean,” Draco pouted. “It’s only hot when it’s not directed at me.”

“Nah, I think it’s hot either way,” Pansy teased, blowing a kiss to Hermione.

Once their lunch was set out, the children miraculously appeared. They chattered happily about lessons, and ghosts, and wands, and Quidditch, as their parents observed. 

“Here’s to the first week, may we all survive the term,” Hermione raised her glass.

“Here’s to passing Transfiguration,” James joked, lifting his pumpkin juice.

“You’ve always been Granny Minnie’s favorite, she’ll pass you no matter what,” Sirius scoffed. “Here’s to actually learning Transfiguration.”

“Here’s to all of you learning to properly tie your ties soon,” Pansy eyed the boys. “Honestly, I have taught you both the spell and the manual way.”

“Loose ties are cool, Aunt Pansy,” Scorpius said. “Only swots have a tight knot.”

He smirked (as did his father), as Hermione’s hand flew to her own tie, and fingered the precise knot. She restrained herself from loosening it, and kicked Harry’s shin when he snickered. 

“Here’s to our kids,” Harry toasted, his eyes traveling the children and landing on Pansy’s stomach. “And to many more.”

Hermione groaned. Pansy beamed. 

“Here’s to our family,” Draco said, his glass held high.

“Here’s to naughty little boys running off in Diagon Alley,” Hermione teased. Draco grasped her hand. Everyone laughed.

Under the noisy laughter, Scorpius raised his glass at his mum.

“Here’s to My Granger,” he said quietly, grinning at his parents.