Chapter Text
May 1st 1998
The manor was deathly still. The silencing charm on her feet assured that she wouldn't be the one to break this quiet. Moonlight poured in from the many windows, highlighting her blonde hair, as she crept along the hall. Her staccato heartbeat, echoed in her ears, as she fought to remain calm. The bedroom door was closed. Placing her palm against the cool wood, she gathered her courage. It wouldn't do to back down now.
Sweat broke out on her brow, as she slowly turned the knob. A moue of displeasure displayed on her face, as the heavy door squeaked open. The room's lone window, cast just enough light, for her to avoid any obstacles. Her shadowed gaze slowly took in the room. Her eyes alighting on the bed. A reclined figure lay upon it. Even in the low light, his platinum blond hair shone like a beacon. One arm was folding under the pillow, the other stretched toward the empty space next to him. In sleep, it was easy to see how attractive he truly was. It sickened her that she'd always thought so. By all rights she should be repulsed.
Her eyes focused for a time, on his relaxed face. It showed none of the anger or rage that she so often saw. No sneer, to take away from his beauty. The sheet had pulled down during his sleep. It sat low on his hips, showing a small line of light hair that led down. Pulling her focus away from the nearly obscene visage, she continued her perusal of the room. On top of the wardrobe, something gold glinted faintly. Taking a slow steady breath, she glided across the floor. Behind her, one stormy light gray eye cracked open. A rustle of fabric nearly made her heart stop.
“Narcissa,” his voice was deep and husky with sleep. “What time is it?”
She froze, closing her eyes in defeat. Turning her head toward the man, she berated herself for getting caught so soon. Languidly, he stretched, reminding her of a giant cat. Even in the shadows, she could tell he was smirking. Unsure of what to do, she remained where she was. Left only to watch as he slipped out of bed. Her eyes widened at the sight of his nude body. She stared at his perfectly sculpted chest, not overly muscled with only a light spatter of blond hair. Her eyes trailed down, admiring him further.
The heat from his gaze caught her breath, as he stood before her. Gods above, she'd never seen that look on his face before. It was unfair that he should be able to make her squirm with only a look. Her nipples hardened uncomfortably as he brushed his hand down her cheek. She should run screaming from the room, or hex him into tomorrow. Not be panting for him, like a bitch in heat. But no one had ever looked at her like that before. It was such a difference to the inexperienced pawing, she was used to. There was nothing awkward about him and his desire for her. Their eyes connected as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers. He watched her intently with those wicked silver eyes, as his tongue begged for entrance. Dragging lightly over her bottom lip, she felt her insides clench almost in savage desire.
It was wrong to let this continue. She should pull out her wand and stun him, anything but lean further into his embrace. A guttural moan escaped him, as he trailed kisses along her jaw, stopping to nibble on her earlobe. His teeth biting down on that little piece of flesh in a hiss, as her hands made their way down his well-defined chest. Pressing his lips to her ear he whispered, “What did Severus say?”
Knowing that her voice would give her away, she hid behind a smile.
“Is that a yes, my darling?”
Her body was rigid in indecision, truly she had no idea what he was talking about. But, there was nothing for it. She nodded again. He leaned away from her, searching her face for some hidden truth. After a moment he smiled brightly, evidently having found the answers he was looking for.
“You don't know how happy you've made me,” he purred and leaned in, capturing her mouth in a desperate plea.
Things had been bad for so long. She couldn't remember anything but hunger and pain. What harm would it cause to just let herself go? No one needed to know. He certainly wouldn't be able to tell anyone of her offense. Tomorrow, she'd be back on the run not knowing if that day would be her last. This could be a last reprieve to all the darkness of late. One night of passion, with a man she could never have.
“I'll be right back love,” his lips brushed against her neck in a plea.
She watched him pull away and turn. He walked across the bedroom to the nightstand and picked up a small potion bottle. Quickly, while he was distracted, she too took a drag from a potion, though she was certain that hers was vastly different. Placing the small flask back into her robe pocket just in time for him to walk back to her. He took a deep drag from the vial and handed it to her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as he stood patiently. Assuming it was a contraceptive, she downed the remaining portion with a grimace.
“I know, I think Severus makes these things taste horrible on purpose,” he joked, plucking the now empty vial from her nimble fingers.
Warmth spread from her stomach in little tingles. It was slightly discomforting, but then she had nothing to compare it to. This was the most reckless immoral thing she'd ever done. But, the man standing in front of her wasn't exactly a pillar of morality. What he didn't know, wouldn't hurt him.
“You're so different tonight,” he whispered before capturing her mouth once again.
His hands brushed against her collar bone, before setting to work on the buttons holding her robes closed. She gasped as the last one pulled away, and the robes pooled at their feet. He unhooked her bra with obvious skill, releasing her uncovered breasts. Her heart thrummed near violently, as he cupped them in his large warm hands, brushing her nipples with his thumbs, “So beautiful,” he murmured.
She pressed her chest forward, enjoying his ministrations as his mouth trailed kisses down her neck. He chuckled at her reaction and fist a hand in her hair, pulling her head back. His mouth captured one rosy bud, working it gently with just the right about of teeth. A moan escaped her, as his tongue brushed over it in worship. He took the time to pay equal attention to both, working her into a frenzy. She wondered if it were possible to come undone from this action alone. Little waves of pleasure sent tingles all the way down her body. As if he were reading her mind, one finger trailed the edge of her underwear. He pulled the small scrap of fabric aside and slipped a finger beneath, rubbing against her, “So wet for me.”
She couldn't remember ever having been so turned on. Adolescent encounters in broom closets had nothing on this experience. This forbidden man knew what he was doing. He continued to work her body, as he walked her toward the bed. Pushing her down on the edge, he leaned her onto her back with her legs still hanging over. She gasped as he settled on the floor before her, and slide the last barrier between them down her legs. He took his time settling wet kisses along the inside of one thigh, teasing her. Not touching her where she wanted him most. She whimpered as his mouth grazed her mound, only to pass it over for the other thigh. Mewling in protest, she squirmed beneath his mouth, bucking her hips and trying desperately to get some kind of friction.
“Patience,” he said, with his face settled right over her overheated center.
She nearly screamed as his tongue flattened against her. He lifted her legs to rest around his shoulders and began to devour her in earnest like a man possessed. Bringing her close to orgasm, he'd back off and run his tongue down to her opening, thrusting it inside her. Before the cycle would begin again, it was delicious torture. Slipping two fingers inside of her, Lucius pumped them steadily in and out, flicking his tongue against her until she felt her body begin to flutter. She keened, the release was so intense it was nearly violent. her body clenched his fingers as he continued to pump them, drawing out her pleasure.
Panting, she glanced down and saw him holding his turgid length, pressing it against her. It was even larger than she'd expected. But then, her one encounter last summer while on vacation was her only reference. She watched as he began to slide into her with one smooth motion. Once he was seated fully, her legs wrapped around his slim waist. He grunted and leaned over her, bracing the majority of his weight on his hands.
She felt stretched to capacity as he filled her completely, it was nearly too much. Arching her hips up, she urged him to move. Closing his eyes, he pulled his hips back, only to slide back in. It felt as though he were even deeper. Her heart lurched a bit at the look on his face, reverence. It was clear that he loved his wife dearly, she was an intruder here, a fake. Soon the overwhelming pleasure overrode any disparaging thought. she pushed the guilt firmly into the back of her mind. Her body griping him tight as his pace increased. The sounds of their union echoing loudly in the room, as he made love to her.
-0-
Narcissa Malfoy walked through the door as though her legs were made of rubber.
“So, did you get it?”
The older woman faced the red-headed young man and sneered. “Yes,” she hissed.
She huffed and plopped down in the chair with a grimace, running her hands over her face as her eyes welled with tears. Her whole body ached from this evening's lascivious activities.
“Are you alright? You were gone a lot longer than planned.”
“Yes, I'm fine Ronald,” she snipped, shifting uneasily in the chair.
“Why did it take so long?” He continued blinking at her stupidly.
Honestly, she wasn't sure she could deal with him right now. She shifted again, making the fabric of her blouse rub against her sore breasts. She flushed thinking of way he had bitten them, then soothed the ache with a swipe from his talented tongue. Merlin, what was wrong with her! She had slept with a death eater. She'd gone back to that house and then let that man touch her. Why couldn't the cup have been hidden somewhere else? Why was she so attracted to him?
“How much longer are you going to look like that, it's kinda creeping me out,” he murmured.
“Where's Harry?” She asked, wishing more than anything that Ron would stop talking.
Ronald had only just rejoined them on their Horcrux hunt. Already he was grating her nerves, this time she couldn't even blame it on the locket. It had been destroyed that morning. It seemed a lifetime ago that she wanted a future with him. But, that had been before they'd been forced into hiding. And while she still cared for him as a friend, she knew now that they could never be anything more than that. They were just too different.
Ron rolled his eyes, “Outside, his scar was bothering him again.”
She rolled her eyes back. The giant man-child was probably thinking of ditching them again. Anyone would be in pain if they were linked to that snake-faced bastard, why couldn't Ron understand that? That scar was really starting to worry her, the connection the two shared, continued to grow each day. It made her wonder, what would happen to Harry when you-know-who was finally dead.
She stood stiffly, ignoring the ache between her legs and went to find her wayward friend. Ron followed her progress with his eyes, thankfully silent. She couldn't believe what she'd let happen. Forget any fantasy she'd had just weeks before, of Ron—he'd never understand. Neither of them would—they could never know what she'd done. It wasn't even unavoidable, she shook her head at that thought. She'd had several opportune moments, to either incapacitate or flee Lucius Malfoy. The sad sordid truth was much worse. At that moment, that vile man had been the sexiest creature she'd ever seen in real life. She had tossed aside all of her ideals, for a shag. A bloody passionate, indecently fantastic, earth-shattering shag.
She passed the real Narcissa Malfoy, who was unconscious and tied up by the door. They discussed what to do with her, and given that Voldemort had control of everything—well, she'd insisted they just memory charm the woman and send her home. After throwing down a privacy ward she innervated the other woman. Narcissa woke with a start and stared at her double in horror. Hermione, obliviated the older woman of her stay with the boys—then sent the confused and hopefully, none-the-wiser Malfoy matriarch on her merry way, with a port-key straight into the manor.
After she'd finally regained her own form, Hermione went in search of Harry. She found him in short order, slumped at the base of a tree not far away.
“Did you get the cup?”
“Yeah,” Hermione gave him a grim smile, “It's almost over.”
-0-
The past month had been full of an awful lot of heartache, considering they'd won. But, victory was bittersweet in the face of all those lost. She'd attended more funerals in the past three weeks, than in her entire life combined. If she'd been depressed by Tonks, Remus, Fred, Colin, and Lavender, then the service for Severus had been downright heart-rending. Those moments from the shrieking shack still haunted her.
Most of the death eaters and supporters had been rounded up and detained. Everyone was trying to move on with their lives. The trials started in earnest, with liberal use of veritaserum this time. People weren't going to accept the guilty bribing their way out of punishment. Things were different this time. Of course, Harry felt as though he owed Narcissa. He'd even convinced her to help him. Between the two of them, Narcissa and Draco had been cleared of all charges. And, while Lucius was found guilty of a few charges, they showed the elder Malfoy leniency. He was fined and sentenced to two years of house arrest without a wand.
That hadn't settled with the other dark families too well. It painted a large target on the Malfoy family. Narcissa and Draco had been attacked just days after the trial, right outside of Gringotts. She had been killed almost immediately, but Draco had fought tooth and nail. He escaped with his life, but rumor had it that the youngest Malfoy had been hit with a castration hex. When questioned, his attacker had said it was worth it. That he'd ended the Malfoy line, cleansed the earth of their taint. Draco was still recovering in St Mungo's, this time—under guard.
Harry moved into Grimmauld Place, with the help of a reformed Kreature, they'd really fixed the place up. Ron had moved in with him and was working part-time in the joke shop with George. Trying to fill the gap that Fred had left, was hard work. But, Ron seemed to be doing well and the rest of the Weasley family were healing.
Once everyone had settled into some sort of normalcy, she'd begun the arduous job of tracking down her memory challenged parents. She'd expected it to take no small amount of time, though that hadn't been the case. The couple had been killed in a traffic accident, hours after arriving in Sydney. It had been a bitter pill to swallow. The guilt she felt, nearly killed her. Thoughts of whether or not, they'd have lived to the end of the war, if she'd only let them be, nearly ate her alive. She'd had to hire a solicitor familiar with both worlds, to settle their affairs. After selling their dental practice and her childhood home, she used part of the insurance money to buy a new home.
The two-story stone cottage, was like something out of a fairy tale, she fell in love with it the second she saw it. It was settled in a secluded, heavily forested area of wales. The property had been previously owned by a witch, so the estate was magical. It came equipped with a large greenhouse and a barn. The woman who'd lived there had made a living growing and harvesting potions ingredients. Because the witch had died without any other living family, her new dream house came with its very own elf, named Toffy. She was still struggling to accept that situation, much to the elf's dismay.
-0-
June 23rd 1998
Harry stumbled out of the floo with a cough.
“Graceful as ever,” she chuckled smiling widely.
Harry gave her a mock glare before embracing her, “It's so good to see you, Hermione.”
She'd missed him terribly, it was so weird to not see him every day. “You too Harry.”
She gave him a tour of the house, then led him outside to the grounds, while the two caught up. Once he was able to see the home from the outside, he'd been suitably impressed, “Wow.”
“Yeah,” she smiled, it really was beautiful here.
“Wanna trade?” He jokingly asked.
“Not a chance, but there are four bedrooms if you ever wanna come stay,” she quirked a brow and chuckled as he appeared to consider it.
“How have you been doing, really? I mean er—with your parents and all,” he stammered tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Better, I mean it's still rough but being here has helped. I don't think that I would have been able to live in their old house alone.”
He agreed, knowing how difficult it'd been for him to stay at Grimmauld, after Sirius had died. They spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their plans for the future. Harry and Ron had decided to take Kingsley up on his offer to join the Aurors. He'd also gotten back together with Ginny, which hadn't come as much of a shock.
“Are you going to go back to Hogwarts for your seventh year? It might not be so bad, Ginny and Luna would be there,” he offered with a sheepish smile.
A year ago, she would have answered, absolutely. These days though, she just wasn't feeling that all-powerful need to do things according to any kind of plan. “I took my NEWTS at the Ministry two weeks ago,” she offered with a shrug.
Harry choked on his tea, staring at her in disbelief, “Hermione Granger, chose not to revise?”
She playfully smacked him on the arm, “Don't be ridiculous Harry, I revised.”
He just shook his head, “So?”
Hermione pursed her lips in a moue of distaste, “I got an E in defense,” she sniffed.
“Oh, the terror. I take it the rest were O's?” He laughed.
“That's not the point,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
-0-
For the second morning in a row, Hermione spent the first hour of her day in the bathroom. She felt so run down lately. Groaning, she leaned over the toilet and heaved.
“Miss? Can Toffy be getting anything?” The little elf hopped from foot to foot, desperate to help her.
“Thanks Toffy, maybe a glass of water?”
The elf's ears sagged, “Miss doesn't need water, she be needing tea.”
“Er—ok Toffy, make some tea, I'll be down there in a minute.”
Toffy nodded her head rapidly and popped away. When she got down to the kitchen, Toffy had already set a place for her. She sat down and picked up the steaming cup, giving it a sniff, “Ginger, anise and fennel seed?”
Toffy nodded excitedly, “Good for little ones.”
Hermione coughed and choked on the first mouthful, “What do you mean?”
The elf pulled on her ears, “Miss not be knowing?”
Hermione paled dramatically, her eyes wide in shock. No, she wasn't. It wasn't possible. She was out the door and headed for St Mungo's before the elf could say another word.
-0-
“What seems to be the problem, Miss Granger?”
Hermione peaked up at the middle-aged healer nervously, “Er—well I—can you—urgh I'm worried that I might be pregnant,” she stammered.
Healer Smythe smiled, “Alright then dear, just lay back and we will have a look see, ok?”
She gave a nod and worried her bottom lip, as she laid down on the examination table. Her nerves were shot when the healer gasped, “Oh, my!”
“What?!”
“It's just so rare, oh my goodness,” healer Smythe rambled.
If she didn't tell her something soon, Hermione thought she would explode, “What's rare? Am I ok?”
The healer chuckled, which just made her even angrier. “You're perfectly fine dear, as are the little ones.”
Ones, as in plural? No. No way. She was going to need a second opinion. “More than one?” She asked weakly.
Smythe was staring at her stomach greedily, “Quadruplets isn't that wonderful. You're so blessed.”
“But, no that can't be right. We used a potion, there can't be four—no, just no,” Hermione shook her head vehemently.
“I don't know what potion you used dear, but it certainly wasn't a contraceptive. With results like these, I'd almost wager the use of a fertility potion. But, there would have been no need, you're already quite fertile. Strange.”
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, denying to herself that she'd been that stupid. To just assume that it had been a contraceptive. Gods above, this couldn't be happening. She was with, multiple Malfoy!
“It's not too late to end the pregnancy is it?”
The healer looked at her in disgust, “Miss Granger! You shouldn't even say such things. Unlike our muggle counterparts, abortion of magical children has never been legal.”
Hermione scowled, of course, it wasn't. She sighed, “It was just a reaction, I am after all unmarried and this wasn't planned.”
This had done nothing to sway the healer back onto her side. In fact, it seemed to have done the opposite. No longer smiling or joking around with her about anything. Instead, she very mechanically told Hermione everything she'd need to know as a first-time mother. She was barely paying attention though. Her mind kept going back to how this had happened, and how the father would react—if he found out. Maybe she could leave the area, and never come back.
“Does that sound good?” Healer Smythe was looking at her expectantly.
“Er—sure,” she said, not really knowing what the older woman had just asked.
Healer Smythe glanced at the calendar, “Good, so I'll see you in four weeks. Just give this to the receptionist,” she handed her a card. “Don't be afraid to pop in if you have any questions. If you'd like, the next time you come in we can find out the sex of the babies.”
Terrific.
-0-
Harry was the only one she'd told the truth too. It was difficult to see how horrified he was, she was pretty sure that her friend actually felt sorry for Lucius. “I can't believe you'd do that. If someone poly-juiced as Ginny and we—er, had a kid from it—I'd press charges,” Harry said with a feral glint in his eye.
“It was wrong, I know that—I'm sorry,” she added still avoiding eye contact.
“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. When he finds out—”
Hermione interrupted, frantic at the idea, “He won't.”
Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, “Famous last words. Are you going to tell anyone else?”
“No.”
Harry rubbed his face wearily, “I still can't believe you'd do that—with him. Urgh, he's—him. Merlin, that's—so wrong.”
“Do you hate me now?” She sniffed.
“No. I don't think that I could ever hate you, Hermione. I promise to keep this to myself, but you need to think about what will happen after they're born. There's a good chance it'll be obvious what line they come from. Not to mention, a lot of the old families—have self-updating family tapestry's.”
Her breath caught, and a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. “Would it show illegitimate children?”
Harry shook his head, “I don't know, the portrait of Phineas might, I'll ask him when I go home.”
After Harry had gone home to ask, she'd sat around planning. The elf would be a big help, in fact, Toffy was really excited about the babies. She'd need to get more information on what to expect. Maybe even say a small prayer that the Malfoy's didn't have one of those tapestries. “Shite.”
Not even thirty minutes later, Harry was back.
Hermione crouched down in front of the floo, to answer Harry, “Well, Phineas didn't know. But, he convinced the portrait of Cygnus the second, to ask Abraxas Malfoy—who didn't seem pleased with the question at all. But, who still answered. According to grandpa Malfoy, they don't have one of those tapestries. Of course, the man was about as irritating as Mrs. Black. So, it's possible he lied. Let's hope not, for your sake.”
-0-
Harry had taken it upon himself to attend her next appointment. He'd insisted that she didn't need to go through all this alone, and had persuaded her to tell everyone a partial truth. As far as all her friends and acquaintances knew, Hermione had a one-off with a muggle named Luke. Like many others, she'd celebrated the end of the war, a little too much. Surprisingly, most were supportive. After all, she wasn't the only one to find herself expecting these days. It was a veritable baby boom, in the wake of the dark lord's final demise.
The story of her spending time in a muggle bar after finding out about her parents, wasn't so far fetched. She'd said that one lonely night, she'd met a handsome older man named Luke. Said older man, had stunning blond hair and smoldering gray eyes that she'd willingly lost herself in.
Healer Smythe made the mistake of assuming Harry was the father, she didn't think she'd seen her friend ever so flustered.
“Er—no I'm not the father. Hermione's like a sister, I'm just here as moral support,” he shrugged sheepishly a blush spreading past his cheeks to his neck.
The healer chuckled, “My apologies, I just thought—what with you're being here and all . . .”
“It's fine,” Hermione interrupted.
After another scan the healer offered her congratulations on her continued health, saying that all four children were astoundingly healthy. And, that she believed all four would develop normally, to term. “Did you want to know the sex?”
Harry gave her a wide-eyed look, still trying to handle the idea of there being four of them. She nodded, “Yes, it would be best, that way I can decorate the nursery.”
Healer Smythe looked pleased with her answer, a turnaround from her first visit. She'd looked into wizarding views on unmarried women giving birth, and abortion since then. After having realized that the wizarding world was over a century behind in that respect, she was honestly surprised Smythe was being so nice.
“You have four healthy boys, dear. Imagine if they're all magical, to think there haven't been magical quadruplets since before the statute went into effect,” she rambled.
“Perhaps it will dampen the attention I'll receive, for being an unwed mother?” She joked.
“Quite,” Smythe nodded.
Ron had offered to marry her as soon as he'd found out. Stupid hormones. She'd cried and thanked him for the offer, but politely declined. Their friendship had been repaired, but there was no chance of anything more. Strangely, she'd had several similar offers, once word began to get out. A few from men she'd never even met before. It was weird, but then the birth rate was low for magicals. Well, for everyone that wasn't a Weasley.
“I'm afraid that word has already spread. I heard a few of the women here speaking of it just this morning. I do hope you weren't trying to keep this secret. They didn't hear anything from me, of that I can assure you,” Smythe added, while writing in her file.
“No, I told my friends and family. I'm sure that's where it spread from.” She hated to think, what that woman Skeeter would print about her, once she got wind.
“Is the morning sickness still a problem? It sometimes lasts past the first twelve weeks with a multiple birth like this.”
“It hasn't been that terrible, the past week it's gotten a lot better,” she offered.
Though, the idea of meat was repulsive now. She couldn't even look at bacon or sausage without wanting to be sick.
“Your blood pressure seems fine so far, though we will want to keep an eye on it. Have you been taking any nutritional aids? It might not be a bad idea to start early if you aren't.”
Harry sat in a daze as the two women continued speaking about vitamins, and whether or not she planned to breastfeed. He was positively green by the time they'd left.
“You didn't have to come,” she bumped his shoulder. “I'm glad you did though, thank you.”
“No problem, besides its good practice for when I have a family of my own, yeah?”
Hermione nodded, though she had already decided not to take him up on going to future visits. Molly had offered to help in any way she could, and Hermione was going to take her up on the offer.
-0-
Molly popped in every other day or so, from that point on. Her advice and knowledge were priceless. The woman was a saint. The Weasley matriarch had knitted booties, caps and made blankets. She taught her a slew of spells to help an inexperienced young mother. Hermione now knew how to spell bottles to fill themselves, and change nappies from across the room, useful that. There were spells to monitor babies, that worked a great deal like the ones muggles used. Charms to add to cribs and cradles, that would ensure the babies safety and comfort.
She'd jokingly told the woman, she should teach classes and charge. Molly had gotten a gleam in her eyes at that. It was no secret the woman loved being around children. She was already pressuring her sons to give her grandchildren. Bill and Fleur were due around the same time she was. That would be nice, for them to have playmates near their own age. She'd spoken with Andromeda as well, about play dates with Teddy. Though that would be some time off.
“So have you thought about names yet dear?” Molly asked eagerly.
“Yeah, I've been reading a few Shakespeare plays again. You know that's where my mum got Hermione from? Well, anyway there were a few names I've run across, that really caught my eye. Oberon, for one. I've always liked that name.”
She could tell that Molly wasn't quite as enthused with the name as she was, “Er—what about Fleur has she picked out a name?”
“Victoire,” Molly smiled. “I have to say, I like it. Has a nice ring to it 'Victoire Weasley'.” Molly gave a nod of approval.
-0-
February 1st 1999
Harry, Ginny, and Molly all peered through the glass, into the nursery. Even though he'd known for months now, it was still shocking. Four boys, all in the first row. He'd been right about how they'd look. All four boys had white blond hair and light gray eyes. Cassius, Fenton, Oberon, and Lennox, had finally been born. Thank Merlin. If Hermione had been any bigger, he didn't think she'd have been able to stand without tipping over.
“When we do have children, it's going to be one at a time,” Ginny whispered in his ear.
“Oh yeah, one is good.” he agreed.
Molly sniffled and wiped at her eyes, “Aren't they just beautiful? Almost makes me wish I had another.”
George wandered up behind them and blinked, “Four, that's just crazy. Angelina said, if that ever happened to her, she'd do some very, not nice things—to my bits.”
Harry's adam apple bobbed. Both men unconsciously covered themselves, “Yeah, one is good.”
“Where's Ron?” Harry asked George.
George snickered, “His girlfriend was dropping hints that it was time for them to get married and have kids of their own. Which means, he's hiding in the loo having a panic attack.”
Molly lightly smacked the back of George's head, “Oh, behave. You know that Pansy runs all over poor little Ron.”
Harry snorted. Hadn't that been a shock? Pansy Parkinson and Ronald Weasley, together. He was so whipped too, Pansy got whatever Pansy wanted. “So, what you're saying is, they'll be setting a date soon?”
George laughed.
The next afternoon, found Hermione in bed, feeding Cassius and Lennox. Luna danced into the room, on a natural high, like normal. “Hi, Hermione.”
“Hey Luna,” Hermione watched her friend drift over to the side of the room. Where Oberon and Fenton were in cradles.
“Can I have one? This one looks just like me,” Luna said dreamily as she carefully scooped up Oberon.
The bad part was, she was probably serious. “I'll think about it,” Hermione teased.
Luna gave a nod, “That's all I ask,” she sighed and kissed the baby on top of his head.
-0-
Lucius picked up the prophet, holding it in one hand while sipping his morning tea. His eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw, peeking over the newspaper he discretely watched his son. Draco. His heart ached for his son. Draco's melancholy was echoed by his own grief, for everything they had lost. To lose Narcissa in such a way, after surviving all that they had—it was nearly unbearable. Then to find out what those monsters had done to his only child—his heir. He felt weary, the continuation of the Malfoy line once again rested on his shoulders. He felt every year of his age. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
He read the headline story again, emotions wild at the unfairness of it. Draco couldn't father children at all, and here that mu—ggleborn dared to have four. The paper pointed out that it wasn't known if all—or any, were magical. But, if they were, it was completely unprecedented. There hadn't been a set of magical quadruplets in five hundred years. He took in the looks of the boys, all of them had blond hair. For a second he considered sending Draco to her, perhaps he could court the girl. There were rituals to formally adopt children into an ancient line. Lucius shook his head, no use thinking that way. He dropped the paper on the table and left his half-finished breakfast.
Glancing back once over his shoulder, Lucius saw his son scowling at the newspaper. That one curse had undone centuries of family tradition. It had been all that Lord Greengrass had needed, to absolve the current marriage contract, between their two houses. Lucius wasn't even sure what to tell his son at this point. He'd raised the boy according to tradition, as was expected. Draco had known from a very young age, that he was to wed the youngest Greengrass. And, truth be told, his son had accepted that responsibility with more maturity than he himself had. After all, it was no secret, that he and Narcissa were not always fond of one another. That had changed of course, over time. Lucius had grown to love her, but she hadn't been his first choice.
Once again his mind wandered over the possibilities. Malfoy's survived at any cost, he would find a way. Trekking into the library, he settled into a bit of research. It couldn't hurt to familiarize himself with the various blood adoption rituals. A branch of blood magic, that while borderline—wasn't necessarily illegal. Of course, there was also the possibility that one of them had an illegitimate child they were unaware of. His father Abraxas was a known philanderer, often having more than one mistress. His father had also had a squib brother named Augustus that was disowned and sent out into the muggle world, perhaps Augustus had born magical offspring? It would bare looking into.
Rubbing his hands over his face, he cursed his age once again. Forty-five was just too old to begin again. Any wife he took would have to be of childbearing age, thus younger. He wasn't sure that he could tolerate a much younger woman. He was too set in his ways, and they would have little in common. If only Narcissa had listened to reason, and stayed home that day. Severus had brewed several doses of fertility potion for them just in case. She'd agreed to attempt at another child, worried as they both were for Draco. Ever since the dark lord had given his son the arduous task of killing Albus Dumbledore, they'd been planning how to survive.
His wife had been very close to the midlife change, and conception was near impossible. There were risks with fertility potions at their age. But, it had been something they agreed might become necessary. He wished she were here with him. They could try again. That last night they'd spent together had been wonderful. She hadn't looked at him like that in a decade. He'd thought once the battle was over, she might be open to continued nightly visits. But, she'd been distant and uninterested, so unlike how she'd been that night.
“What are you doing?” Draco asked, leaning on the door.
“Looking into a few options. Do you have plans for the day?” He asked politely, knowing his son's temper of late.
“I was thinking about spending some time away. I've been invited to the Zabini's estate in Italy, Blaise's mother is recently—widowed. And so she is on an extended holiday, no doubt looking for husband number seven,” Draco sneered.
Lucius hummed, “I wouldn't begrudge you a holiday. By all means, go relax and get your head together. Will any of your ex-year mates be there besides Blaise?”
“Pansy and Theo, are supposed to be there as well.”
“Good, I think that might be just what you need,” Lucius offered a rare smile.
Draco's posture relaxed somewhat, obviously having expected a different answer, “Will you be alright here alone?”
“Don't be silly Draco, it's house arrest not Azkaban. There are plenty of things here to keep myself busy with, and that's saying nothing of all the correspondence I'm behind on.”
Lucius was still able to hold business meetings at the manor, in all, it wasn't much of a punishment. All things considered, he thought himself lucky. Two years spent in the manor getting all of the family business back in order would fly by—it was nearly half done. Given the mess having the dark lord squat here had caused, he would need that time. With help, he'd taken on the task of renovating the manor as well. Several rooms had been completely gutted. The taint had been too great to do anything less. The drawing room was unrecognizable now. Though truth be told, he still felt the echoes of Bella's madness there.
“And Draco?”
His son paused turning back toward him.
“Do try to enjoy yourself, yes?”
Draco smiled, “Thank you father.”
-0-
Lucius approached the portrait of his father reluctantly. He had banished the painting into a hardly ever used guest room, much to his father's ire.
“Father?”
Abraxas quirked a brow and sneered down from the wall, a look Lucius was well familiar with, “Son.”
“I was wondering where the family tapestry had gotten to. Was it perhaps put into the main vault?”
Abraxas froze, peering down at him with fathomless cold eyes, “Interesting that you should ask that.”
Lucius twitched, trying and failing to hide just how annoying he found the late Lord Malfoy, “And why is that interesting?”
Abraxas gave a smile that spoke of nothing good, his father obviously knew something he didn't and was prepared to lord it over him. Not all that surprising when one considered what the man was like. “I might know where the tapestry was banished to, after my brother's unfortunate birth, however, needs must be met.”
Lucius sighed, “Of course father, what would you ask of me?”
“Why nothing more than what I'm due. I think placing my portrait in the drawing room with a permanent sticking charm might be a good start.”
Lucius winced, well that settled that. He was never going into that room again. “Of course father, anything else?”
“I'm sure I'll think of something later, but for now—that will do.”
“Toddy?” Lucius called out for his elf.
The floppy-eared creature popped into the room at once, “Master called?”
“Yes Toddy, could you place this portrait into the drawing room,” he ordered.
“With a sticking charm, if you will,” Abraxas added in disdain.
“Of course, with a permanent sticking charm Toddy.”
The creature nodded consent and immediately popped away to do just that. Lucius made the long walk back to the drawing room in silent thought. He hoped this would be worth all the trouble. In theory, the thing would have updated over the years showing all the different lines. Even uncle Augustus, the squib, should be on it. He regretting past thoughts about the Weasley's. Perhaps they'd had the right of it. That family would never be in want for an heir.
A recent meeting with a few of Narcissa's old friends had only driven home how unlikely he was to secure another wife—that he could stand. And, then there had been the disaster that was Lord Greengrass. The swine had practically put both of his young daughters on a platter and offered them up. All the while proclaiming that a union between their families could still be achieved. Lucius cringed at the idea of having to wed a girl younger than his own son. There had to be a middle ground, some thirty-something widow or such.
Striding into the drawing room, he held himself stiffly in front of the loathed portrait, “So, we have an accord. Where is the tapestry?”
“The cursed thing is under the drawing room, in the vault. Where it's been since my own father locked it away as he did with Augustus.” Abraxas drawled, “As he should have. I trust you aren't going to drag the family name down any further by digging up worthless squibs?”
Lucius spun around, arrogantly ignoring anything else the man had to say. He pulled up the rug that hid the entrance to all the dark things, the family hadn't parted with. The old latch squeaked loudly from disuse. A cloud of dust welcomed him, as he lowered himself down the small ladder. The five by five-foot space was relatively empty. He'd thrown out the worst of the lot after the war, not wanting to give the Auror's any reason to send him back to prison. On the far wall was a medium-sized blood warded safe. Nicking a finger, he pressed it to the center and watched it swing open. He'd not looked in this since he'd been a child—and only then in rebellion.
Inside sat the deeds to a few lesser known properties, a couple of hand written books and one rolled up tapestry. Gingerly, he lifted the sought after item and closed the vault up. He said nothing to his father's portrait, instead having decided to study the thing in the library. Placing it on the longest table, he unrolled a large portion and began looking for his father.
-0-
June 15th 2000
“Obie, where are you?” She smiled hearing the giggles coming from behind the couch.
It was a full-time job, keeping up with the boys. Especially once they had all begun to walk. At fifteen months, the little terrors were already running about causing havoc in their wake.
Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she caught Cassius trying to pick up their newest addition by the neck. Merlin help her, but she was considering getting a second elf. All thoughts about their enslavement were long thrown out, she didn't think that she would have survived the diaper stage without Toffy.
“Cass put the kneazle down. Don't pick him up like that, he doesn't like it, sweetie.”
The toddler warbled his bottom lip and threatened tears, clumsily patting the animal on the head, “Pets'neeze?”
She giggled and carefully pet the kneazle's head, “See, like this. Be nice to the kitty.”
Cassius nodded and donned his most serious face, His hand hovered a half inch over the cat's head, “Li' this?”
“Yes, like that. See.”
The kneazle, who the boys had helped creatively name—kneazle, eyed her and Cass with trepidation. Poor furry bugger, had a rough go of it, with four tots. “Obie, come say hi to kneazle,” she called out to the still hiding child.
Obie peaked around the corner of the couch and squealed in delight, clapping his hands. Kneazle narrowed his eyes, as the child ran screaming toward them. “Neez!”
Knocking at the door, brought the three's attention away from Kneazle. The fluffy gray cat used the diversion to run under the sofa. “Now why would Molly knock,” she wondered.
She was reluctant to call Toffy, as the elf had just taken Len and Fen for a bath. As the two decided that wearing their pudding, was better than eating it. Standing she reached out both hands, “Come with mummy to see who's at the door.”
Obie and Cass each took a hand and toddled along with her, both giving lingering looks at Kneazle's hiding place. Through the window on the door, Hermione could see that it wasn't Molly. Whoever it was, cast a much taller shadow. After a few steps, she caught sight of gleaming blond hair and froze—it couldn't be. “Toffy!”
The elf popped into the room covered in soap and holding two wriggling boys, “Miss?”
“I have an unplanned visitor, could you take Obie and Cass upstairs to the playroom?”
With a snap of the elf's fingers the two tots in question were sent out of the room. Toffy left to finish up the others bath, while Hermione stared intently at the door. A horrible feeling of dread crept down her spine. Did he know? Of course, he did. Why else would he be here? The knocking resumed this time a little louder. She sighed and finished the walk to the door, her feet dragging the ground as though made of lead. Trying to remain as calm as humanly possible, she opened the door, “Mr. Malfoy, what a—surprise, can I help you?”
Malfoy's eyes were cold flecks of ice that the smile on his face did little to thaw, “Yes, I believe you can Miss Granger. Mind if I come in?”
The clipped response was more of a demand, as he deftly walked past her and took a seat at the kitchen table. One hand rested on the top, holding a thick pack of paper.
“What's this about?” She asked calmly and offered the man tea.
To her displeasure, he accepted all the while, tapping the papers against the table. She flit about the room making a tea service. “Cream or sugar?”
He tilted his head slightly, seeming to evaluate her on a molecular level, “One sugar, no cream.”
Having taken care of the unplanned hostessing, she claimed the seat across from him, nursing her own cup, “What—uh, what brings you here Mr. Malfoy? I have to say, you're the last person that I expected a visit from.”
“Truly?” A minuscule amount of amusement shown through Lucius' stoic mask, “Given the parentage of your children, I find myself confused by your surprise. Did you think I wouldn't find out?”
Her face burned in embarrassment, giving him the only answer he needed. He pushed the papers over toward her, all the while keeping eye contact. “W-what's this?”
Her brow furrowed as she picked up the papers to read them. Her breath caught when she began to understand.
“As you can see, this can go one of two ways,” he purred.
“Two ways? This seems pretty straight forward, you plan to sue for full custody,” she snapped and slammed the papers back onto the table.
Lucius quirked a brow and tutted, “That's what will happen if you don't agree to option number one,” he pulled another set of papers from his front robe pocket and handed them to her.
She wearily reached out, her hand trembling as their fingers briefly touched. It turned out to be a precise offer of marriage, with an air-tight prenuptial agreement. “What's the meaning of this? You can't honestly expect me to marry you? That's absurd!”
His eyes narrowed, “What is absurd, is having fathered children with a woman—I never slept with. I don't know for certain, but I suspect poly-juice. And I can guess the when—the day before the battle, yes? You do realize that what you did was both immoral and highly illegal?”
“I'm sorry, I didn't set out to do that I—”
Lucius held up his hands, “I expect you to send a reply to my solicitor in two days time. If you refuse the marriage contract, know that I will be forced to take this before the wizengamot.”
Not waiting for a reply, Lucius stood and strode right back out of the house, leaving her slack-jawed. Would he win if it was taken to court? She rubbed her face and sighed into her hands. It was dubious consent at best, her mind supplied. Steeling herself, she began to read the marriage contract with renewed interest. Three cups of tea and a handful of biscuits later, she whistled and threw the papers onto the tabletop.
Determined to get an opinion from someone that knew wizarding law better than her. She floo'ed Andromeda Tonks. The woman was quick to come through and sent Teddy up to the playroom. Hermione took a deep breath and began to explain what had happened. Her face was bright red throughout the telling. At Andy's look of incredulity, she flinched. “It was wrong, I know,” she finished in a quiet voice, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the table and hide with Kneazle.
“Did you think he'd never find out, or?” Andy seemed to truly be at a loss.
“When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought about ending it,” she frowned, deeply disturbed by that thought now.
Andy choked on her tea.
“It's different in the muggle world Andy, I didn't know how different. And, believe me, in that regard I'm glad because I love my children. But, when I found out that they were inevitable, I just did what I had to do. Got my life together and gave them my all, it's all I could do.”
Andy gave a reluctant nod, “Yeah, that's a bit of a sticky situation. I think that if Narcissa were still alive, he'd have ignored this. Or, if Draco were able to continue the line himself. But she's dead, and Draco is sterile. Is it really that surprising to you that he showed up here?”
Hermione just shook her head and studied the tabletop.
“I'm going to be honest Hermione. If he takes you to court, you'll be charged with rape and he will most likely win. In addition, you would lose all custody. But, he's a Slytherin through and through, and a politician above all else. Marrying you has the added benefit of not only fixing his heir problem but swaying public opinion. This one move could undo all the harm, he's already done to the Malfoy name,” she continued and began to read the marriage contract.
Her mind kept repeating that charge. Rape. Her eyes began to well with tears, “I didn't think about it—I didn't mean to—do that—to him. I—he was just,” she sobbed.
Andy patted her hand and snorted, “He really is a beautiful monster. How about you let me look this over, and you can go say hi to Teddy, hmm?”
Hermione made her way upstairs and settled in with the boys.
-0-
“The contract is fairly standard but extremely traditional. There's a strict fidelity clause, surprisingly it affects you both equally. Also, there's a no harm clause,” Andy hummed in approval, “Have to say I hadn't expected that, but then he was never one to hurt Narcissa so—I suppose . . .”
“How long,” Hermione asked slightly panicked.
Andy's brow furrowed, “They really need to reinstate the wizarding culture class at Hogwarts,” she sighed.
“This is a life long binding. The contract is in addition to the actual wizarding ceremony.”
Hermione's eyes threatened to bug out of her skull, “Life long—surely not!”
“Here's the thing Hermione, the contract protects the family holdings. For example, if he should die, there's nothing you could do to disinherit Draco. Likewise, there's nothing Draco could do to keep your four boys from inheriting. Trust vaults will have probably been set up, even at this point. Also, each child will receive a portion of the estate, minus what's already been gifted to Draco. Though I imagine there's more than enough to go around. Draco will get the family seat—the manor in Wiltshire—upon Lucius' death. Your boys will each receive a lesser property to start out their lives with.”
Hermione shook her head and held up her hands in protest, “I don't want his money. If he sets something aside for the boys—then fine. What I want to know, is how the contract affects me, and what a wizarding ceremony entails.”
“The contract ensures fidelity and safety, both from harm and financial ruin. Whether or not you want it, you'll get a spouse vault with an annual allowance. Accounts will be set up at Twilfit & Tattings, for you and the boys as well as other stores.” One look at Hermione's face had her pause, “I know you don't care about money, but these are the Malfoy's.”
Hermione sighed and made another pot of tea, “Fine. Tell me about—bindings,” she grit between clenched teeth.
Andy chuckled and ducked, when Hermione threw a scone at her head, “There's no divorce in these types of union. A couple can separate, but they will always remain married. If you attempted to cheat, it would make you ill. For instance.”
Hermione squeaked.
“It is pretty standard Hermione, nothing truly nefarious, at least where the ceremony is concerned. There is one clause in the contract that is old-fashioned and quite frowned upon—but there's nothing for it I suppose,” Andromeda steeled herself preparing for an ultimate fit from Hermione.
“The contract disallows the use of any contraceptives. This clause used to be commonplace amongst purebloods. Mostly because of their already low birth rates. These days it's generally not included. It could be that this is the standard Malfoy contract? In which case, it remains the same as when it was written. The problem is that, not only would you have to consummate the marriage after the ceremony but also—,” Andy trailed off staring intently at her tea cup.
“What was that last part?” Hermione seethed.
“Weekly conjugal rights, you'd have to relent to your husband at least once every seven days. Unless you're pregnant, in which case you'd have the right to turn him away.”
Hermione promptly fainted.
-0-
“Hermione?” Molly Weasley's disembodied head floated in the fireplace.
Andy walked over and greeted the woman.
“Oh, hello Andy dear, where's Hermione?”
“She's not feeling well, a little run down I'm afraid. The poor thing. Was there something you wanted?”
Molly pursed her lips, no doubt ready to break through and cook up enough food for an army. “She was going to bring the boys over for supper tonight, but she didn't come and I was getting worried.”
Andy crouched down and gave the matronly woman a nod, “Yes, the poor dear is asleep. I'm watching the boys right now. If you'd like, I can bring them over for a visit?”
Molly's face lit up, “Yes, bring the boys over for dinner, but only if you'll stay too—and bring Teddy.”
She consented, but thought the woman was slightly unhinged. Only Molly Weasley could think that a couple of dozen dinner guests were a good thing. After leaving Hermione a note, she trot upstairs to acquire the five hellions. The elf was sitting in the center of all the boys, more than happy to play. Toffy was floating balls around, much to their immense pleasure.
“Teddy put the Kneazle down!” At her voice, Teddy dropped the cat. It made a bee-line for the door, nearly knocking itself out in escape.
Andy smiled at the unfortunate cat, “We're going to have dinner with Molly, Toffy can you help me get them all dressed?”
Obie fussed as she changed him into a different shirt, “Dat!” He pointed at the green one she'd just removed.
“This one's cleaner,” she replied firmly.
“Dat! Dat! Dat!” The boy cheered, wobbling precariously on his feet in excitement.
“God, I can't believe there's four of you.” Better her than me, she thought. “I'm too old for babies,” she sighed.
“I hope you boys give Lucius hell,” she snickered at the thought. He was her age, it should prove to be interesting.
Len tilted his head to the side, just like the cat had earlier, “Heww.”
Andromeda nodded, “Uh huh.”
-0-
Distraught, she stared at the contract. Her hand hovering over it, quill at the ready. “Don't think about it, just sign it,” she muttered to the empty kitchen.
Touching the quill to the parchment, tears trailed down her cheeks as she swiftly signed her name. She felt the inherent magic of the contract settle onto her before it flashed a bright white and vanished. Frowning, she wrung her hands. She'd be married within the next thirty days. “Stupid magical contracts—argh! Aggravating, arrogant blond bastards!”
“Ma?” Obie crept up behind her and tugged on her shirt sleeve.
Wiping her eyes, she glanced down and smiled, “Hi love, I didn't see you there.”
Andromeda chuckled as Len kept trying to say the word bastard. Yes, she couldn't wait to see Lucius run ram shot by the fearless four. “I take it you signed?”
Hermione nodded solemnly, “It was the only thing I could do.”
Andy pat her on the shoulder, “There, there dear, nothing for it. If I were to guess, I'd say that he will, for the most part, avoid you like the plague.”
Hermione chuckled and lowered her head to the table, “What about the—conjugal visits?”
The older woman hummed, “I really can't say. The contract doesn't force the issue with him, only you. So, it's possible that after the ceremony—he might just banish you to your own wing.”
“One could hope,” she croaked.
Andy rolled her eyes, “This from the woman who poly-juiced as his wife and had her way with him,” she chuckled darkly.
Hermione swallowed, “I—I don't know why I did that. He's rude, arrogant and bigoted.”
Andromeda sat down across from her, “He's also handsome, wealthy, and intelligent.”
Hermione sniffled and cracked an eye open to glare at her friend. Andy tutted, “He's all wrong for you true. But, whether you're willing to admit it or not, you must have been attracted to him. Sometimes, we want the men who are the absolute worst for us. Or, like me, you go after someone your father would never approve of.”
She cringed, “I remember thinking how wrong it was, for someone like him to be so handsome. I think I was twelve when I ran into him at the bookstore. He picked a fight with Mr. Weasley. There were other times over the years, that I was quite taken with his looks. You're right, I was always attracted to him. How awful is that? I'm a terrible person!”
Andy got up and went over to hug her, “You made a bad decision, but thinking that he's attractive—just means you have eyes.”
Hermione choked out a weak laugh, “My life is over.”
“You won't be a prisoner Hermione, and you're too well known for him to mistreat you. Many things about your life will remain the same. It'll all just take place in a larger home, and with a new last name.”
-0-
“What the hell is this?” Draco slammed the morning paper down in front of him, hard enough to spill part of his tea.
“The paper,” he responded dryly.
“You're getting married? To Hermione Granger! She's a mud—,”
Lucius picked up the paper and swatted Draco on the nose. His son looked at him like he's lost his mind, perhaps he had, “It's no longer politically correct to use that kind of language. You will hold your tongue when she is around. Do I make myself clear?”
Draco's stare had a manic quality, as he blinked rapidly and shook his head, “What—how did—why would you . . .”
“Eloquent. In order then? I need to assure the line. I fathered Granger's children—my children I should say. And why? Because I have no desire to find some superficial gold digger to pander to, in the hopes of one day succeeding in impregnating her. With Miss Granger, I've only to fill out the right paperwork and it's a done thing. Problem solved.”
Draco sat down right on the floor, “You—with Granger! That's,” his attention drifted as he stared in shock. “You cheated on mother?”
Lucius looked down at him sharply, “No, I did not.”
“But, you must have if her children are really yours,” his son was trying hard to understand, frankly he was surprised there was no screaming, yet.
“I did not. Miss Granger broke into the manor poly-juiced as your mother,” Lucius held up a hand to stop the upcoming rant, “She and Potter,” he sneered, “Needed something that the dark lord had left in my care. I found her in my bedchamber and thought she was—your mother. I don't know why she didn't flee, probably fear or—I don't know really. The results are the same either way. Those four boys are Malfoy's.”
“Half-blood Malfoy's,” Draco hissed.
“The dark Lord, Dumbledore and Severus—were all half-blood's. It stands to reason these children have every chance to be magically powerful. And, in a few generations, it won't even matter. Because at least the Malfoy name will continue.”
That was all the more he planned to speak on the matter. Lucius unfolded the paper and read over this morning's headline. He laughed at the nerve of Rita Skeeter. She'd found the most unflattering photos of both of them. His mugshot, and one of her at thirteen when she was all hair and teeth. Ex-death eater to wed war heroine, shocking indeed.
Skeeter had even touched on the fact that Hermione's children looked like him, perhaps it was personal.
“But father you always said blood was everything,” his son continued, not having realized the subject was closed.
Lucius sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Listen well for I tire of this subject. Sometimes life changes in such a way that even those things we've held as inherent truths, prove false. In times like these, it's doubly important to adapt to those changes. We are Malfoys and we carry on Draco.”
Draco was a nervous sweaty ball of nerves and denial, “No—what—why would you say that!”
Lucius sighed and waved a hand at his son, “You have the unique task of finding a young woman and marrying for love. A first for the Malfoy heir in ten generations. These are new times, adapt to them son. I want only your happiness.”
Draco stuck out his chin, “Certainly father, shall I find my own mudblood?”
Lucius gave a long-suffering sigh, “If you love her, then fine. But please avoid using such crass language, it's unbecoming.” Throwing the paper onto the table, he left his son there on the floor and didn't look back.
It had taken him the better part of two years to come to terms with his own dark thoughts. Even with all the glaring evidence to the contrary, he held onto those ingrained prejudices. Even if he couldn't completely change, he was determined to adapt and survive. It was a lesson he hoped Draco learned quicker than he had.
-0-
July 1st 2000
The past couple of weeks had been filled with confessions and groveling. Mostly, she'd been forgiven and still had friends to invite to this shame of a wedding. Ginny had been the hardest to win over, and really for good reason. Her husband to be had given Ginny a Horcrux that possessed and nearly killed her. Some things were hard to overlook. Molly had gotten over it the quickest, much to everyone's shock. Hermione chalked it up to the boys, Molly loved them dearly. The older woman had even asked her how Lucius performed. At her violent blush, Molly had only snickered.
She and the boys were moving into the manor today. After the newspaper outing their upcoming nuptials yesterday, she was almost glad. Malfoy Manor had to have mail wards that blocked howlers, didn't they? She'd lost count at forty-seven of the foul things. One sounded quite a bit like Rita Skeeter, not really shocking in and of itself.
The boys weren't happy, all their favorite things were being packed up. Moving was a foreign concept to a toddler, they only knew their toys were going bye bye. To say they were cranky, would be a vast understatement. She was half tempted to hit them with a mild sleeping spell. And Kneazle was hiding, not that she blamed him. The cat was probably hoping they'd forget to bring him.
“You got everything packed?” Harry called out.
“Yeah I think so,” she mumbled glancing around the living room one last time.
She loved this house and really hated to leave it behind. Rather than sell it to strangers, she'd gifted the house to George and Angelina. They were expecting their first child, and the flat over the joke shop wouldn't be big enough before long. Instead of telling Toffy what to do, she gave the elf the choice, stay with her and the boys or stay with the house. Toffy had grabbed Obie and started wailing about not being a bad elf. Some habits were hard to break. So it was safe to say that Toffy, would be joining them at the manor.
“Toffy where is Obie? We need to get ready to leave.”
Toffy popped into the room holding the laughing toddler, “Toffy has Obie, he be hers.”
The little boy tugged on one of Toffy's ears, and she could have sworn she heard the elf say 'mine'. Luna was partial to Obie as well, the little bugger already had a horde of surrogate mothers.
“George you might have inherited a cat, I can't find Kneazle,” she offered with a wry grin.
“It's no problem love, if we find the little deserter, we'll send him on,” George laughed wrapping an arm around Angelina's shoulders.
“Alright then, everyone grab a tot or a box and let's head out,” Harry ordered, having already grabbed two boxes—and zero tots.
One thing about moving that wasn't so bad. With magic, the contents of an entire house, fit into five boxes.
-0-