Written in the Stars

by SarahFraser

Summary:

A five-year relationship between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy ends in heartbreak after Draco's engagement to Astoria Greengrass hits the news. With her life in shambles, Hermione is trying to figure out what she needs to do next when Draco shows up at her house on the eve of his wedding. After giving into her heart again, Hermione flees to France the following day after seeing Draco and Astoria's wedding picture.

Fifteen years later, there is an attack by a group of Dark Wizards in Paris while Scorpius Malfoy is there vacationing with his mother. Being a squib, the teenage boy is defenseless in the face of danger but is saved from a stray spell by Lyra Granger, a girl with wild white curls who looks eerily like him. Upon being taken into protective custody by the French Aurors, the two teens await their parents. When Scorpius's father and his husband, Theo Nott, arrive they are shocked to see Hermione picking up her daughter.

The pieces are put together, and quickly the wizards realise that Hermione isn't as dead as they had thought she was, and when she'd left England, she'd taken something of Draco's with her.

Notes:

• In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the Dreomione Fest 2023 collection.

Prompt:

 

Dreomione's children or grandchildren are the focus of the fic/art

Chapter 1: Stag Night

Notes:

Chapters 1-9 updated December 17, 2023

 

Hermione Granger sat in the oversized reading chair that she'd thoughtfully placed next to her fireplace so that she had a view of her back garden. The faerie lights she’d put in her little backyard oasis shined in the night, allowing her to see despite the late hour. 

 

She’d tried to go to bed. Honestly, she had, but sleep eluded her. 

 

Tucking one of her curls behind her ear, Hermione pulled the blanket she’d been using tighter around her shoulders to try fending off the late October chill that had crept into her house. 

 

Blasted tears, she furiously swiped her hand across her eyes, wanting to rid herself of the emotions that were boiling inside her. The problem was that she was heartbroken. Five years she’d dedicated to Draco fucking Malfoy, five years ago she’d fallen in love with the wanker, and five years of believing that he was her everything and she was equally everything to him. 

 

Oh, how wrong she'd been.

 

She’d given up the friends that didn’t support her, being warmly welcomed by those in his circle. When she’d been left without a family from the choices she'd been forced to make in the war, they’d built one together, even if one of those people happened to be her ex-boyfriend, Theodore Nott. They'd relied on each other and had been there to lend the support each of them needed at the time. 

 

When his parents had thrown vicious words towards him about his decision to date her, he'd stood up straighter and doubled down on his devotion. He'd stepped down as the COO of Malfoy Enterprise and ignored his mother's invitations to various galas and holidays, all to show how much Hermione meant to him. That he chose her. 

 

It had been a dream come true. Her heart had been whole, and she had finally been happy. All until a month ago. When he’d shattered her.

 

Taking another sip of her wine, Hermione’s thoughts were dark, and her chest ached at the knowledge of what tomorrow was. She wished not to know the date, but she couldn't very well ignore it when it was on the cover of every magazine and graced the paper's front page.

 

A dead-end job, no friends, no family, and the love of her life marrying another woman. She looked around the small house she was renting, thinking about her lease for the place and how it was up in just a few more days.

 

The thought of not renewing it and leaving England came back to her. The thought of starting a new life, where there were no expectations and she could pave her path, sounded more appealing as the fire crackled beside her.

 

A loud knock pounding against her back door had Hermione splashing some of her wine on the floor as she stood from her seat, pulling her wand from her hair. She pointed it towards the door with a steady hand, silently daring anyone to cross the threshold. 

 

“Granger! Open up! Your floo wouldn’t let me pass!” She heard Draco’s words slurring on the other side. 

 

Hermione didn’t move, however, not wanting to come face to face with the man who’d ripped her heart apart. “Come on, Hermione, it’s cold, and I’m wet!” He yelled again, knocking. “I know you’re awake. Just open the door!”

 

Still, Hermione didn’t move from her spot, not wanting to see his stupid pale face or the white hair she loved to run her fingers through. Espically not even those damn silver eyes that made her knees weak. No. He could stay out on her porch for all she cared and freeze to death.

 

“Hermione, I swear, I’ll blast the door down!” He shouted when she still didn't give him a response to his nonsense. The threat, however, made Hermione's snarl deepen at the simple wooden door separating them. He wouldn’t dare…

 

“I’ll give you the count of three!” He warned, but Hermione held her ground.

 

“One…” Hermione stared at the door, which was now looking much too flimsy.

 

“Two…” a subtle glow began to illuminate through the keyhole, and she took in a gulp of air, readying herself for what was to come.

 

“Three!” The door blew off its hinges, falling inwards, but Hermione was ready. Without a sound, she shot off a string of stinging hexes, aiming for his favorite appendage. 

 

“Don’t act like I don’t know your tricks!” Draco bellowed, stepping through the ruined doorway, a shield charm already in place. “I know everything about you!”

 

“If you knew everything about me, then you’d know coming here was the most ignorant thing you’ve ever done!” Hermione spat as she continued firing off spell after spell in his direction. Damn him for being an Auror. While she was a Curse Breaker, his skills were far above those of her own, and she hoped that in his inebriated state, she could keep the upper hand to make him regret coming here. “This is a rental, and you’ll pay for that!”

 

“I’ll buy the bloody house if that makes you happy!”

 

“The only thing that will make me happy,” Hermione yelled – curving her next hex so that it swung wide and came back towards him – “is if I never see your stupid pointy face again!”

 

Draco didn’t respond; instead, he saw precisely what she was trying to do and blocked her spell quickly. He dropped his shield, taking on an offensive position, and began to advance. Damn him! He moved with a practiced grace that she’d once upon a time admired, but now it just infuriated her. 

 

“Malfoy!” She yelped when he finally managed to disarm her, following it up by binding her hands behind her. “I swear, I’ll–”

 

“Do you ever stop shrieking? I just wanted to talk.” Draco stalked forward, tucking his wand into its holster. A holster she'd bought him after he'd graduated from the academy.

 

"There's nothing for us to talk about, Malfoy," she spat his name, her face turned up into a sneer towards him. 

 

"We do. You broke up with me in a bloody note attached to a box of my things – most of which were broken, by the way." Hermione only shrugged; he should be lucky he'd gotten them back. "And then you barred me from being able to contact you!"

 

"You're getting married–"

 

"It's not my choice!"

 

"It is your choice, Draco! You always have a choice! You can't stand that bint, and yet here you are, doing exactly as your father commanded!"

 

"You don't understand–"

 

"No! I don't understand, nor do I want to. I loved you, and you made me believe you also loved me! Instead, you let me find out about your engagement, " Hermione scowled, the words tasting like ash on her tongue, "from a Rita bloody Skeeter article!"

 

“I didn’t know about the article!” Draco bellowed, stepping closer to her. “My father invited me to lunch, and the paparazzi were waiting. I had no idea any of that was going to come out! Skeeter was waiting for the photos; she already had the article written! I would have come over instead of returning for a private meeting with my father if I'd been aware!”

 

Hermione’s chest was heaving with laboured breaths as she looked at the man she’d thought would never hurt her. The man who owned a part of her soul and the entirety of her heart. “Regardless, you stayed with your father and her at that lunch.”

 

“He forced my hand. Why can’t you get it through your thick skull that this isn’t what I want!” Draco was nose to nose with her now, and Hermione could feel her skin tingling at his closeness.

 

“And what do you need to get through my thick skull?” She seethed, her teeth gritted with her hands bound behind her back. She couldn’t slap him the way she longed to. Hermione eyed his perfectly straight nose and was getting ready to headbutt him when he grabbed her by the throat to stop the assault. As if it were a reflex that she could no longer control, her cunt clenched around nothing, and her knickers were instantly wet. 

 

“That I’m still desperately and madly in love with you, and you little wicked enchantress have ruined me,” Hermione’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open just slightly before Draco’s lips crashed against hers. 

 

A stronger woman than her might have protested against him, but Hermione Granger admittedly was not strong when it came to Draco Malfoy. He managed to get her to prove that time and time again. 

 

“I hate you,” she murmured against his lips, melting into the feeling of him pressed against her.

 

“I hate me too,” he replied, deepening their kiss, and the world was lost to them. Her restraints disappeared, and Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco’s neck, holding him against her. Even if this were just for one more night, she would take it, even though she knew it would destroy her.

 

She was already wrecked anyway. What was one more night of pleasure to hang onto?

 

Draco was unhinged, his hand still pressing against her throat, squeezing a bit more, causing Hermione to moan in pleasure. Fuck she’d missed him and the way he demanded her body to respond to him. 

 

He pressed her backward until she was lying on the floor in front of her dying fire, the light low and flickering over the two of them. It would have been romantic had Draco not looked like he would devour her. 

 

He wasn’t careful with his clothes, ripping them from his body and tearing the fine custom shirt he wore in haste. He needed her as much as she needed him. It was apparent they were forever doomed from the start, but their bodies didn’t care. 

 

Seeing the expanse of his pale-scarred chest on full display, Hermione’s trembling hands reached out as she began to track each line she knew so intimately. The ones from Harry, the ones from his deranged aunt, and especially the ones from his father. They stood out against his alabaster complexion, but beyond that was the complex body of a man who refused to be taken advantage of again—a man who refused to be that scared little boy who couldn’t protect himself.

 

His fingers slid down to her shorts, slipping past the elastic waistband and fingering the slick already pooled there. He growled against her mouth at the feel of her hot center, and Hermione was helpless to allow him to take what he wanted from her body. His thick fingers slipped inside her, stretching her the way that he knew she liked.  

 

His palm pressed against her clit as he moved in and out of her, pumping her full of pleasure that her body sang in joy at receiving. She missed him and was desperate to feel the release only he could give her. She’d tried, in a desperate and drunken attempt, to get over him by sleeping with a handful of men the previous month, but none of them had come close to what Draco could do to her.

 

“Draco!” Hermione screamed, her back arching off the floor as her climax slammed into her. Her body shook with such force that any thoughts about what was right and wrong fled from her. Any guilt she might have had over doing these things with a man who was set to marry the following day fled from her. She only cared about what she wanted and what he could give her right now.

 

As her body started to come down from the high that he’d given her, Draco fell back on his heels above her, looking down and studying her still-clothed body. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he told her as he began to pull the buckle of his trousers free. “I’m going to fill that cunt, so you know who it belongs to. I’m going to make sure that you never forget it either,” he promised, and despite how much she hated his words, she squirmed in anticipation. 

 

Once he was free of the confinements of his garments and utterly nude before her, Hermione’s tongue darted out to wet her lips at the sight of him. His body was sculpted perfectly, as the Gods had crafted him. His strong legs from all his years of Quidditch made her weak, and his thick member hard and heavy between his legs was mouth-watering. 

 

“Undress,” he commanded her, and Hermione was so lost in her lust-filled mind that she did precisely that. Wiggling out of her sleep shorts and the soft cotton top, she leaned back on her elbows to allow Draco to take in his fill of her body as well. She wasn’t the only one trying to memorize the other. She realized as she watched his silver eyes soften as his gaze roamed over her nude form. 

 

With a pang in her heart, she knew this would be their last night together. He was going to be married the next day, and there was nothing to be done about it.

 

Without another word, Draco slotted himself between her thighs and let his cock brush against her core. Hermione held his gaze, wanting to remember his face when he sank into her. The look of pure bliss that overtook him made her soul scream, but Hermione bit it back as he fully seated himself inside her. 

 

They stayed like that, unmoving and just looking into the depths of each other's eyes, their unspoken words and promises that they’d both broken hanging heavy in the air. They weren’t meant to be together, and it was a truth that lurked in the dark corners of her sitting room. A truth that neither of them wished to acknowledge. 

 

When Draco finally began to rock in and out of her, Hermione met each of his thrusts, pushing her hips up. Desperate for what he could give her, she chased her climax, taking from him as he took from her, damn the consequences.

 

The faster and harder they went, the sound of their skin slapping filled the room, along with their moans and cries. Hermione’s thighs burned with the effort, and her core ached, but she didn’t stop. Her nails dug into Draco’s back, anchoring herself to him and marking him for his bride to see. It was petty, but she couldn't bring herself to care. 

 

“Hermione,” he moaned, and she knew he was close. Hermione doubled her efforts, wanting to feel his warmth spilling inside her just once more, as if holding onto that little bit of him would keep him with her forever. 

 

“Don’t stop,” she panted, her eyes locked on Draco as his face began to screw up. With a shout, Draco pumped himself into her, filling her and pushing his seed deeper toward her womb. Her greedy cunt milked him for everything he was worth, taking everything he had to give that she wanted. 

 

With their bodies spent, Draco and Hermione collapsed into a heap on the floor. Between the alcohol and the incredible shag, Hermione’s body hummed with the release she’d gotten, completely sated. The warmth of Draco’s strong arms wrapping around her paired with the heat from the fire, Hermione pulled the blanket she’d been covered in earlier over them, and together, they fell into a deep sleep.

 

ooo

 

The afternoon sun was bright, shining directly into her face, and Hermione groaned at the headache forming. Rolling her body, she sat up, realizing that she wasn’t in her bed but on the hard wooden floor of her sitting room. 

 

When she saw her discarded sleep shirt in a heap near her chair, the memories of the night before flooded back to her. 

 

Draco…

 

A look at the clock on her mantel said it was half past one in the afternoon, and Hermione leaped from the floor to search the house. It was useless, though, as there was no sign of the man who’d graced her presence the night before. The only evidence was her backdoor, hanging limply off the hinges and broken from where he’d used his spell to blast it open. 

 

An owl pecking on the window of her tiny kitchen drew her attention. She ran to the space that was hardly large enough to stand in, much less cook in, frantic to get whatever the bird delivered. When she let the bird inside, she noticed a rolled-up copy of the morning paper attached to its leg with a note included.

 

It’d been long since she’d had a subscription to the Prophet, not wanting to support the news that fabricated and spread their narrative to the public. Pulling the paper free, Hermione gave the owl a treat, and it was off, leaving her utterly alone again.

 

I’m sorry.

 

The note read it wasn’t signed, but Hermione knew who it was from. Unrolling the paper, Hermione’s sob caught in her throat as she looked at the front page. A stoic-looking Draco stood beside his bride, a binding ceremony happening. The magic visibly wrapped around their wrists was all she needed to see.

 

He was never going to be hers again.

 

She dropped the paper to the floor before racing back into the sitting room. Hermione snatched her wand from the floor and began waving it about the house, causing all her worldly possessions to fly into the little beaded bag she still owned. There wasn’t much, but what she did have flew precisely, carefully packing itself away until Hermione stood in an empty house. 

 

Jotting down a quick note to her landlord that she would not renew her lease, Hermione grabbed her bag and headed out. The Goblins wouldn’t care about her not giving a proper notice; they’d never been particularly fond of her anyway.

Hermione took one last look at the paper that sat unmoving on the floor as her hand rested on the doorknob of her house. With that, Hermione left the house, ready to leave the entirety of England behind and start her new life away from the reaches of Draco Malfoy.    

Notes:

Artwork by Rosé Heira

https://direct.me/roseheira

Chapter 2: A New Beginning

It was now nearing the end of December, almost two months since Draco’s wedding, and Hermione couldn’t say she’d found the peace she hoped for in France. The little flat she’d seen in Paris was located in the Muggle world but close enough to the entrance of Place Cachèe where it wasn’t difficult to get around without magic and avoid attracting notice to herself. It wasn't anything special and considerably smaller than the little cottage she'd been renting in England, but no one from her old life knew how to find her, and that was what she wanted.

 

With her NEWT scores and training as a curse breaker, the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France (or French Ministry of Magic) was more than happy to employ her. Though her salary was much lower than it had been at Gringotts, Hermione saw the opportunity for growth in her position that the Goblins had denied her. When they'd discussed where she saw her future with them going, she hadn't been shot down; instead, she had heard that they foresaw bright things in her future within the department.

 

Keeping her head down and not wanting to make waves or draw unwanted attention in her direction, Hermione had managed to live a quiet life. Though, when she’d first run into Gabrielle Delacour, the sister of Bill Weasley’s wife, she’d turned and nearly sprinted in the opposite direction. The sight of the eighteen-year-old witch had been enough to set her on edge and make her heart race. With being a Curse Breaker, her identity was a tightly guarded secret, but sitting in a cafe, even with the glamour, seeing someone from her old life was startling. There was also something about how Gabrielle looked at her that made Hermione feel like the Veela magic could see through the carefully constructed magic done by her department's badges. 

 

Hiding away in France would only work if no one knew where she was, and if Gabrielle told her sister, it could quickly get back to Ron. Getting to Ron meant Harry would find out and Harry was Draco's partner in the Auror department… No, no one could know she was here. 

 

It seemed that the younger witch had recognized her, much to Hermione’s dismay, because time after time, the girl continued to make attempts to get Hermione’s attention. The only saving grace was that Hermione worked in their magical law enforcement department, and Gabrielle – she’d found out – was working in records. 

 

Hermione bent her head over, studying her notes on a particularly dark object that had just been confiscated at an auction house when the wave of nausea hit her. Grabbing the trash can next to her desk, Hermione released all the contents of her stomach before wiping her mouth with a cloth and vanishing her sick from the bin. Taking a deep breath, Hermione rummaged through her tote until she found the toothbrush and toothpaste she carried with her.

 

She walked to the restroom nearest her cubicle to cleanse her mouth of the foul taste.

However, when Hermione stepped into the room, the sight of a tampon dispenser stopped her. She was late. She knew she was late and had been brushing it aside for weeks. The stress of his wedding, the move, and a new job made it easy to explain away missing that first month. But for it to miss a second month, Hermione bit her bottom lip. 

 

She couldn’t be…she mused as she stepped up to the sink and began to scrub her teeth furiously. Hermione rinsed her mouth and spat into the sink when the two-minute timer went off. Standing back upright, she studied her appearance in the mirror and winced at what she saw. The dark circles under her eyes were extremely prominent, and from how ill she’d been recently, her face had started to thin out too much, her cheekbones standing out an alarming amount.

 

Huffing at her wild thoughts, Hermione looked around the washroom, noticing that she was still blessedly alone. “Just to ease your mind,” she muttered, pulling her wand from its holster. “Just do it and find out you’ve lost it. Then go back to your life.” She promised, casting the charm that she’d only done once before when she’d had a scare with Draco during their eighth year at Hogwarts.

 

Hermione held her breath and closed her eyes as she felt the magic dance over her abdomen before a warming sensation filled her body. “It’s negative.” She told herself again as if saying it out loud would make it real. “You’re not pregnant.”

 

Though, when she looked down, the bright gold glow made it apparent just how wrong she’d been.

 

ooo

 

Hermione’s knee bounced as she held the pen to the paper she was trying to write. How the bloody hell was she supposed to do this? 

 

Hey Draco, how’s the newlywed life? I hope all is well with the wife. By the way, that shag we had the day before your wedding, yes, well, I have something of yours growing inside me that I thought I ought to tell you about. I left England. I Don’t know if you noticed or cared, so if you want to get back to me and discuss this further, we can set up a floo call at your earliest convenience. Or we don't have to? It's totally up to you.

 

By the way, I’m keeping it. As you know, after Dolohov’s curse in the fifth year, the healers believed I couldn’t get pregnant. So, seeing as this might be my only chance at having a baby, I must take it. Talk to you soon. Maybe.

 

No, that was utterly ridiculous; Hermione cursed herself, crumpling the letter and throwing it into the bin. Was she a bloody Gryffindor or not? Stealing her nerves, Hermione grabbed her bag and headed for the international port key office. If she were going to tell Draco he would be a father come the end of July, she should do it in person.

 

ooo

 

Pulling her cloak up so that her face was hidden, Hermione rushed through the atrium of the Ministry in London, determined not to be stopped on her way out. However, no one paid her attention, and Hermione could only get through the floo and to the Leaky Cauldron with a soul speaking to her. Her fingers brushed the badge at her hip, thankful that she'd thought to bring it along, at least to use until she could find Draco and get him alone.

 

She stepped into the small pub, the smells of the familiar food and the pub's warmth filling her in a way that she hadn’t even realized she’d missed. Hermione kept her face hidden as she moved to a small corner booth and sat, trying to get her thoughts together. 

 

She planned to rent a room for a few days and write to Draco to meet her somewhere neutral and break the news to him. She didn’t want him to know where she was staying, so having him meet her here wasn’t an option, but a little muggle cafe not too far from her parent’s old house would be perfect. There was little to no chance that anyone would see them, and that’s precisely what she needed. Rip the bandage off and see what happens from there. Simple. 

 

However, as Hermione rummaged through her bag to find her coin purse so she could purchase lunch, a discarded copy of the blasted Daily Prophet left behind on the table she’d sat at caught her attention. 

 

A NEW GENERATION! THE MALFOY FAMILY PROUDLY ANNOUNCES THE NEXT HEIR IS SET TO ARRIVE SOMETIME IN JULY 2004!

 

Even though her hands shook, Hermione managed to unfold the picture, and a sob she couldn’t contain slipped from her. A picture of Draco and his wife stood in the maternity ward of St. Mungo’s, each of them resting a hand on her abdomen. Though they both wore smiles, neither seemed thrilled about becoming parents. Be that they didn't want to welcome a child so quickly after being married, or if they weren't thrilled at who they had a child with, regardless, it was happening.

 

Dropping the paperback on the table, Hermione floated out the door without ordering a thing and onto the muggle side of London to hail a cab. Her next portkey wasn’t set to leave for three days, and spending even another moment in England made her feel as if she were suffocating. Her world was again crumbling around her, and Hermione knew she needed to get out before losing herself even more. 

 

Hermione settled into the back seat, instructing the driver to take her to Heathrow Airport. Once the car started moving, Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as the car wove through the busy streets. Draco was having an heir of his own; there was no need to complicate his life even more by telling him about their baby. 

 

She was a strong woman; she’d faced death more times than she could count. She was fierce and had a promising career before her; she would take on motherhood just as she had everything else that life had thrown her way thus far.

 

At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

 

ooo

 

“Ermione?”

 

Hermione looked away from the little bundle of blankets in her arms and over to the younger witch standing in the doorway of her hospital room. The part Veela waved in her direction, making Hermione smile at her friend.

 

Gabrielle had doubled down on her efforts to befriend Hermione at the start of the new year. She was chipping away at the walls Hermione had erected over her heart until they became sisters. With Fleur living in England with her new family, Gabrielle had a void where the older witch used to be that needed to be filled. As reluctant as Hermione had been to allow anyone to get too close to her, she found that it was either the Veela blood running through the girl’s veins or her aurora, but she felt better than she had in years since being around Gabrielle.

 

“Are you about ready?” Hermione asked, smiling at her friend before looking down at her daughter. The pale white curls shone like a beacon behind the large bow the healers had put on her head. As much as it hurt to see the resemblance to her father, Hermione still wouldn’t change a thing about her daughter. She was flawless.

 

“Oui, I have everything ready,” Gabby answered chipperly as she swept into the room, happily gazing down at the baby. “She’s perfect; she looks exactly like she could be my baby sister.”

 

“Were you able to–”

 

“Yes, yes, nothing to see on Lyra Madeline Granger’s birth certificate. Shame magic can’t identify an unknown muggle father.” The part Veela answered, giving Hermione a wink that told her that no one would suspect a thing. There was something slightly scary about Gabrielle's pull over people, the Veela magic even more potent in her than in her elder sister. “Shall we get going? I’ll admit it took me longer than I would have liked to set up the nursery.”

 

“Gab, you just had to put a crib in my room…” Hermione trailed off, eyeing the younger witch and giving her a sheepish grin. “What did you do?”

 

“I might have moved you into my house…” The girl trailed off, causing Hermione’s heart rate to spike with fear. She knew that Gabrielle lived in the wizarding world, though a bit off the beaten path in a small home her family-owned off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea.

 

“Oh, come off it," she continued when she sensed Hermione's panic. "No lease will have your name, and you’ll need help with a baby. Maman is thrilled that I have a friend. She didn’t even recognize you as the same ‘Ermione that was friends with ‘Arry Potter.”

 

“What about your sister?” Hermione asked her irritation with the girl growing still. “Won’t Fleur notice me when she comes to visit?”

 

“Oh, please. Fleur hasn’t been home since she married. Maman ‘as to go to ‘er to see the babes.”

 

Hermione still wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but when Gabrielle widened her eyes and gave Hermione such a pleading look, she couldn’t deny it. 

 

“Fine, fine, I suppose. Just until we get on our feet, though. I won’t be living with you and cramping your style for long.” Hermione promised, but the French witch didn’t hear a word as she fluttered around the room, gathering everything Hermione had brought to the hospital. 

 

With another sigh, Hermione laid her sleeping baby down and slipped away to put on the sundress she’d brought with her to wear to go home. Though her thoughts were no longer with the two blondes she’d just left in the cramped room, she couldn’t stop wondering about Draco and if there was another Malfoy born yet.

Chapter 3: Mothering

Notes:

Translations (Done by twitter users @nova_frogster and @Sylith_Senjak. Huge thank you!!!)
Ruelle Noire - Night Alley
Rue Enchantée - Enchantress Street
Café Aux Chats - Cat Cafe
Putain - Fuck

Almost fifteen years later…

Lyra Madeline Granger was a robust and confident witch who attended the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. A renowned school that led the world in its advanced practice, knowledge, and innovation in charms and transfiguration. As such, the academy churned out more charms and transfiguration masters than any other school. Though, truth be told, while she was decent in both subjects, Lyra's true passion was potions.

It was the summer before Lyra's fifth year of school, and her fifteenth birthday was in just a few days. Running through the streets in the Montmartre District, Lyra felt excited as she smiled at her best friend.

"Alright, where are we to go first?" Lyra's mother – Hermione Granger – asked, clapping her hands together as she turned towards the teenage girls. "Café Aux Chats?" Her mother asked, a hopeful tone in her voice, but Lyra could only groan.

"I don't want to go to a bookshop cafe with bloody cats running around," Lyra complained, causing her mother's lips to press into a thin line.

"Lyra, language," her mum scolded, snapping her fingers and sticking Lyra's mouth closed so she couldn't gripe more. "It's a cute shop, and they have tea and biscuits that we can snack on while we read, and you get to cuddle cats that are up for adoption. I don't see why you're so opposed to it."

"Mum, that is something that you would want to do," Lyra continued with her mouth free again, even going as far as to stretch her jaw in an exaggerated motion that made her mother roll her eyes. "We're fifteen, nearly grown women now. We want to venture out and explore, take in the sights without a chaperone."

Lyra gave her mother her best innocent smile, trying to ensure that her dimples were fully displayed. The only problem was that her mother was not naive and very aware of her daughter's tendency to attract trouble. "Please," Lyra added, gripping her hands together, prepared to beg.

Her mother's dark brown eyes narrowed as she looked between the teenage girls as if mapping out how much trouble they could get into. Just before Lyra prepared herself to drop to her knees, Hermione finally sighed in defeat.

"You are to stay on Rue Enchantée, you understand?" Lyra had to stop herself from jumping for joy. Her mother never gave in so quickly, but Lyra wasn't about to question her good luck.

"Totally, wouldn't imagine going anywhere else."

"I'm serious, Lyra. I'm grabbing one thing from the shop, and then I will come to find you. I'll stay a distance back so I don't cramp your style, but I want to know where you are. No sneaking off."

"Absolutely, yes, yes. Enchantress Street, stay put. Get ice cream, check out Quidditch gear, buy dresses; that's all we'll do."

"I'll be right back; stay close so I can find you," Hermione told the girls, leaning in to give each a kiss on the cheek. "Have fun, stick together. And under no circumstances are you to leave this street." Her mother emphasized the last point once more, and with that, the older witch was hurrying down the street, disappearing from view into the cat cafe. Fucking mental woman needed a boyfriend.

When she was sure her mother was distracted and deep in the shop, Lyra turned her attention to her best friend.

"Vivi," Lyra nearly purred, making the other girl shake her head in distress.

"No, absolutely not. You heard your maman. She's only getting one book." Vivienne Delacour shook her white blonde hair, motioning toward the store Lyra's mum was inside.

Vivi was a distant cousin of Lyra's Aunt Gabby. Having grown up living with her mother's best friend, Lyra and Vivi were often put together for playdates, making their friendship inevitable. As it turned out, Gabby's great-grandfather and Vivi's great-great-grandfather were twin brothers whose sons both fell in love with Veelas. The only difference was that while Aunt Gabby was only a fourth Veela, Vivi was two-thirds, her father being part Veela, having married her mother, who was a full Veela.

The pair were often mistaken for being sisters, with their matching long white hair and eye color nearly identical – Lyra with silver and Vivi with sky blue. As little girls, they would often even dress in matching clothes to confuse people, but when they went off to school, they'd begun to find their styles.

Lyra had grown up with a mother who despised doing all things athletic, but her Aunt Gabby had still introduced her to the beautiful sport of Quidditch. As it turned out, Lyra was a natural in the air, thriving on a broom. Because of this, Lyra preferred to wear clothes that she could quickly jump into a pickup match in. On the other hand, Vivienne detested any physical activity that might jostle her perfect hair out of place. However, even in her designer skirts, dresses, and towering heels – Vivienne was not a witch to be crossed. One of her well-placed curses could reduce even the most senior wizards at their school to tears.

"Do you know what she'll do to us if she catches us in Ruelle Noire…again!?" Vivienne exclaimed.

"You know as well as I do that she will be in that shop, lost in the shelves for four hours, minimum. We have plenty of time to run into Night Alley and return before she knows we left." The protests were visible on Vivienne's lips, but Lyra held up her hands, begging again. "Please! An apothecary there sells the ingredients I need to brew Wolfsbane. I wanted to show Madame Averesch when we go back to school. I swear, it'll only be a moment, and nothing bad will happen. It's nearly at the entrance; we won't have to wander far!"

After a much longer pause than her mother had given her, Vivi finally sighed and hung her head in defeat, her straight blonde locks hanging over her shoulders. "Are you sure that I'm the Veela and not you?" The girl grumbled as she dragged her feet behind Lyra, who was skipping and jumping in the air with her victory.

"I am positive I have no Veela blood on my mother's side, my father's. That's up for debate, considering I don't know his name. Mum believes he was a muggle, but perhaps he was a Veela that lured her in with his charms. Now, come on, we must make haste!"

"Putain, you are the most irritating girl on the planet." Vivienne sighed heavily, waving her hand for Lyra to lead the way. "Just so you know, when we're caught, I'm telling them it was entirely your idea, and you kidnapped me. I was taken by force, Madame 'Emione. Lyra made me do it."

"Noted," Lyra grinned triumphantly, turning on her heels toward Ruelle Noire. "Night Alley awaits!"

ooo

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was just like most nearly fifteen-year-old boys. His parents were divorced, and he lived with his father and his father's new husband – Theo. However, unlike most of his peers, his mother deeply resented him for his existence. His father and stepdad were both wizards, and his mum was a witch, while Scorpius didn't have a single drop of magic running in his veins. Meaning that Scorpius' family on both sides was entirely made up of witches and wizards.

Not being magical but coming from two long and proud lines of magic had caused a drift to form in his family. His grandmothers and aunts still loved and adored him, as did his father and stepfather. His mother and grandfathers, however, preferred to ignore him and pretend that he didn't exist. In most cases, this suited Scorpius just fine; they were hardly pleasant people anyway. The only good thing about his paternal grandfather was that he had long since died, leaving his father to divorce his mother and marry the true love of his life.

As wealthy as his father was, Scorpius had attended the most prestigious private muggle schools. His father had wanted him to make friends who were more like him, therefore opting out of having a governess teach him as a child. Social interactions with non-magic folks were not something that he could have done while growing up in a magical family with their magical friends coming around with their magical children. It never bothered him not to be able to do magic. However, had his father not insisted on his upbringing being seamlessly woven into the muggle world, Scorpius might have felt differently.

As it was, instead of attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as his father and a long line of Malfoy men before he had, Scorpius instead went to Eton College in Windsor. Of course, he attended the same school as the royal family. Where else would his father send him? Harrow School?

"Mother, must you buy more robes? I'd think you had enough by this point, and they all look exactly alike." Scorpius drawled, walking slightly behind the wicked woman as they trekked through some posh wizarding shopping district in Paris. He pushed a few strands of his pin-straight white blonde hair out of his face as he took in the shops again.

None of it was of interest to him. All his friends used cell phones (because they lived in the twenty-first century), so buying an owl would be more of a hassle than it was worth. The singular sport the magical community played was all done on brooms, so any supply shops were pointless to venture into as they differed from what he'd use for cricket or polo. The books were all about spells, potions, and hexes. Though as enjoyable as it might have been, he was bored exploring a world that had no use for him.

"Why don't you go look around?" His mother – Astoria Greengrass – said, waving him off as if he were a bother. Her long brown hair hung around her shoulders as she looked in yet another high-end robes shop, readying to buy another set she'd never wear.

The alimony his father paid her kept Astoria living the comfortable lifestyle she'd grown accustomed to over their nine-year marriage. When it'd been confirmed at the age of eight that Scorpius was a squib, in addition to Lucius Malfoy's death, it had been the breaking point for his father to file for divorce finally. Scorpius was sure he'd never see his mother if it wasn't for his grandmother Anita. As it was, his grandmother had insisted that he come on the Greengrass family holiday to celebrate his grandparent's fortieth wedding anniversary in France. Usually, his father wouldn't have allowed for a trip, but sweet Anita had insisted and promised that Astoria would never be responsible for him. And yet, look where he was now.

"Because I'm a bloody squib, and nothing in this shopping district will work for me, it doesn't hold my interest. Also, the magic here is interfering with my cell." He clipped, shoving his hands into his pockets as he trailed behind his mother. If it hadn't been for his grandmother insisting he come along with Astoria – to have lunch with just the two of them to try and have a 'bonding moment ' – Scorpius would have been perfectly content staying at their villa and playing Xbox Live with his mates.

"Keep your voice down," his mother hissed, turning on him and making eye contact for the first time this holiday. "Do you want everyone around to know what a freak you are?" She spat out, causing a flush to rise on his pale cheeks.

He knew he wasn't a freak. He knew nothing was wrong with being a squib, but it cut much more profoundly when his mother phrased her words like that. The anger in his chest began to rise, and Scorpius gripped his hands into fists at his sides. He really should have stayed at the villa.

"Go find a bench to sit on, and I'll come to find you when I'm finished," she spat before turning and waltzing into the upscale robes shop she'd been headed towards before his outburst. The click of the door shutting told him he was completely and utterly alone.

Usually, Scorpius could get on the tube and return home when it came to any forced proximity with Astoria. Floo and other magical means of travel only worked if one of his parents or grandparents was with him because of being a squib. So, after the third time, he showed up at the front steps of his father's townhouse in Kensington without a chaperone; he hadn't been forced to go for a weekend visit again. Not that his mother complained about the revision to the schedule. Scorpius had a sneaking suspicion that's what the cow had been hoping for all along.

However, now that he was stuck with her in the magical world, Scorpius didn't have the option to buy a ticket to head back to his house. Scowling at the shop, the idea of sitting around and waiting hours for her to finish made his temper rise even further. If Astoria thought he would make it easy on her by being a good dog and sitting outside the shop waiting for her, she had another thing coming. She wasn't stupid enough to leave him behind; his grandmother and aunts would ring her neck if she did, and she knew it. Especially since her sister – Daphne – and Daphne's wife – Pansy – had given, in vivid detail, the agony that they would put her through if she were to come back empty-handed.

Turning on his heels, Scorpius spun and stalked off down the street, trying to distance himself and Astoria's bloody Greengrass as much as he could. With his hands shoved deep in his pockets and his eyes trained on the ground, he didn't notice the change in the streets or the sign Ruelle Noire. More importantly, without magic, Scorpius also didn't see the warning of dark magic dancing over his skin. Instead, he rubbed his arms, mistaking the warning for a chill in the air.

Chapter 4: Due East

Notes:

Translations (Done by twitter users @nova_frogster and @Sylith_Senjak. Huge thank you!!!)
Ne me faites pas de mal, je vous en prie - Please, don’t hurt me
Qui êtes-vous ? Quel est votre nom ? - Who are you? State your name.
Ruelle Noire - Night Alley
Rue Enchantée - Enchantress Street
c'est quoi ce bordel !? - What the fuck!?
T'es une connasse - You are an arse
Pute - Bitch
Crétine - Twat
Merci - Thank you
Merde - Fuck
Fils de pute - Motherfucker

The chime above the door to the apothecary was muted as Lyra and Vivienne stepped inside the store. It was so questionable that it didn’t even have a sign outside that gave the establishment a name. However, the business itself was nameless, only spoken of in whispers to potential customers. The precise location also changed often to avoid raids from the French Ministry and ensured that only those with connections could find it anytime. Hence, Lyra had to make sure she came today.

 

So, Lyra might have exaggerated a bit about just how deep into Ruelle Noire she and Vivi would be exploring.

 

The elderly shopkeeper circled the till, and when Lyra waved, trying to be friendly, the only response she got was a grunt and a scowl that made her shrink with fear. The owner was rumored to be a metamorpmagus, and Lyra bit her tongue to keep from asking. Her endless curiosity often found her, and by extension Vivi, in a few unsavory predicaments over the years. However, since she’d gotten her friend to join her today, Lyra decided against pushing her luck. 

 

“Lyra,” Vivi rubbed her shoulders, inching closer to Lyra, who was wide-eyed as she browsed the shelves. “This place gives me the creeps,” the Veela complained, slipping further behind Lyra as the bald, hag-looking witch watched the two teens intently.

 

“What? Why? It’s charming?” Lyra said, turning away from the severed body parts of various displayed creatures she’d just been examining.  

 

“I think she knows I’m a Veela. Do you know how much my hair would go for in a place like this?” Vivi hissed, shrinking even further into the shadows behind Lyra as the owner continued to study them.

 

“Wait, do you think she’d trade some of your hair for a few things?” Lyra asked in all seriousness.

 

“Lyra!” Vivi whisper-yelled at her friend. 

 

“What? I’m a bit short on funds; I didn’t realize that there would be so many things I’d want to buy,” Lyra joked, knowing how sacred Veela hair was in their culture – convincing a Veela to part with the treasure was nearly impossible (hence why it was so valuable). What? She couldn’t have grown up around the Delacour family without having learned a thing or two about Veelas. She was only joking... Sort of.

 

Vivienne didn’t move from behind Lyra but pinched the back of her arm in response. Lyra turned to scowl at her friend, who also had her eyes narrowed. When she turned back around, both girls shrieked at the shopkeeper's sudden closeness. 

 

“Two hairs – pulled from the roots – you can have the pick of the store. Otherwise, get out of my shop.” Lyra stood a bit straighter between this fascinating person and her best friend. 

 

“Eh, well, you see…the thing is…” Lyra backed up, pushing Vivi with her. “She’s only part Veela, so her hair is trash. You might as well take a few locks of mine for all the good it would do you.” Lyra answered, shocked that the woman spoke English instead of French. She'd clearly been listening and understood everything they’d just been saying. “If I could just pay for these things, we can be out of your hair. Get it, hair, because…well, you know what. Here’s the money.” Lyra quickly said, shoving more than enough coins for everything she had in her basket into the witch’s hand. Grabbing Vivienne, Lyra pivoted in a semi-circle until they were on the other side of the woman and closer to the door.

 

The woman tilted her head, the hood of her robe sliding off to show a disfigured skull. Lyra and Vivienne both let out a little squeak as they hurried backward, not daring to turn their backs on the captivating but terrifying witch. 

 

The woman opened her mouth, showing off rows of sharp black teeth, and let out an ear-piercing screech that shattered a few displays. Much faster than they would have guessed she could move, the woman crossed the shop, getting right in their faces. Her eyes had turned into a glowing yellow with both girls screaming as they ran from the store, Lyra clutching her basket.

 

“Lyra, c'est quoi ce bordel !? ” Vivi panted, bent over at the waist, her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Her usually perfectly styled hair was sticking in every direction, and her pale face was flush. “I’m never going shopping with you again. I fucking swear it. T'es une connasse. I cannot believe you, pute. ” 

 

“Awe, Vivi, you don’t mean any of that,” Lyra said, equally out of breath but grateful she was wearing trainers instead of the heels her friend was in.

 

“Crétine,” Vivienne muttered, marching away from Lyra, causing her to laugh at how much colorful language her friend managed to use when her vocabulary was typically much more wholesome. 

 

“Merci,” Lyra replied, jumping out of the way of the slap aimed right at her. “Come on, mum should be just about done book shopping anyway. We’ll need to get back before she notices…” Lyra trailed off, looking across the dimly lit street at a group of three hooded figures. 

 

“Which way is Rue Enchantée ?” A chill ran up her arms as she grabbed Vivienne and pulled her back towards a few barrels of something with a foul smell lining the shop they’d stopped in front of. Lyra had been in Ruelle Noire far more times than she would ever admit to her mother. However, in all her trips sneaking around the alley, Lyra had never ventured as far as they now found themselves. 

 

When they’d run from the apothecary, the girls must have gotten turned around at some point and headed the wrong way. Lyra looked around the street, hopeful to see anyone who could point them in the right direction. Still, unfortunately for her, the only people she could see were the sketchy-looking figures, and there was no way she was asking any of them.

 

“What should we do?” Vivienne asked behind Lyra, reaching out to grip her hand. “ Rue Enchantée is east; we can use our wand as a compass.” Lyra nodded in agreement, grabbing her Vinewood wand and keeping her eyes trained on the persons who’d luckily not noticed their audience. 

 

Vivienne whispered the spell to turn her wand into the compass, and keeping their hands interlocked, the two girls stuck to the shadows and began to creep away. Lyra never looked away from the hooded figures, trusting Vivienne entirely to get them to safety. 

 

Ruelle Noire curved slightly, obscuring Lyra’s view of the figures, allowing her to let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. However, she didn’t release her hold of Vivienne, even with the imminent danger gone. The girls did their best to stay out of sight of the street. Not that it was hard to do as most of the street lamps were broken, making it clear where Night Alley’s name came from. 

 

Even in the middle of the day, as deep as they were in this shopping district, it still was dark enough to need lamps or wands lit to see where one was going.  

 

“How much further do you think?” Lyra asked as a chill went up her spine. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

 

“I don’t know– merde! Get down!” Vivi tackled Lyra to the cold stone of the alley as a curse flew over their heads. While they were not the intended targets – whoever was dueling most likely did not even know they were there – they were still in the line of fire. “RUN!” Vivienne screamed as the shouting and the sounds of explosions began to fill the air. Pulling Lyra to her feet, the two teenage girls took off, still trying to go east as best they could. 

Throwing her basket into her bag, Lyra slung it over her shoulder and continued sprinting in the direction Vivienne’s wand was directing them. Lyra didn’t have to pull her wand to light a path, as the fighting around them was as bright as fireworks. Fireworks that happened to be much too close for comfort.

 

“Vivi, we’ve–” But before she could finish her sentence, a deflected blast landed near their feet, pulling the girls' hands apart and sending them flying in opposite directions. Lyra landed hard on her back, the air being pushed from her lungs as she hit the stones with a thump. 

 

She blinked her eyes, and everything around her went black. She sat up, pinching her arm, wincing at the pain. Well, she wasn’t unconscious, but what was most likely Peruvian instant darkness powder had bathed the street into utter darkness. 

 

Lyra had to bite her lip to keep from calling out for her friend in her terror. So far, it seemed that whoever was having a full-on fucking battle in the middle of a fucking alley would possibly use them as distractions. 

 

Fils de pute.

 

Crawling on her hands and knees, Lyra figured if she stayed close to the ground, she might stay safer while the fighting continued, even in the darkness. With her wand between her teeth, Lyra felt blindly for anything to hide behind until the damn powder lifted. Shouting and the sound of spells still tearing through the street had her flinching and shuffling faster.

 

“Ne me faites pas de mal, je vous en prie, ” a distinctly male voice whispered in the darkness. 

 

“Qui êtes-vous? Quel est votre nom? ” Lyra hissed, pressing her wand somewhere into the male’s flesh. However, as she squinted hopelessly to see who she was holding at wand point, she noted that he didn’t sound like a man. He said he was around her age, but anyone who willingly ventured into Night Alley was dangerous or foolish. Lyra liked to believe that she was a bit of both.

 

Before the boy could answer her, beams of light filtered through their surroundings, allowing her to see. However, Lyra didn’t move, keeping herself ready for whatever the light might show. 

 

Well, everything except him. She thought as she blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing.

 

ooo

 

Scorpius couldn’t take his eyes off the girl pressing a wand into his shoulder. Somehow, his stupidity really, he’d found himself lost in the Montmartre District. Once he’d realized his mistake, it was too late, and Scorpius was much too deep into a more sketchy-looking area than any he’d ever been in.

 

Shouting men and cackling women had been what startled him out of his miserable thoughts. He’d instantly pulled out his cell phone to contact his father, but the blasted thing was still not working. Once the fighting had broken out, Scorpius had run for cover behind a stack of crates, praying to the Gods to send someone to save him.

 

When everything went black, he’d first thought he must have been hit by a spell and rendered unconscious. However, his other senses heightened in the darkness, and he could still hear the battle raging on and feel the press of a sharp stone in his knee.

 

“Bloody hell,” the girl muttered, leaning back away from him, obviously seeing the same thing he was. 

 

“You’re English?” Scorpius asked, leaning forward. He was utterly awe-struck by how similar they looked, but the girl seemed slightly alarmed. 

 

It was, it was bizarre. Though he was vaguely aware that his father had cousins living somewhere in France, Scorpius was not prepared for just how much they might resemble each other. They had the same high cheekbones and straight noses that rounded perfectly at the end. However, her face was heart-shaped and more feminine, whereas he was much sharper. Her size also surprised him because she was tiny.

 

The only other person from the Malfoy line – aside from his father and grandfather – whom Scorpius had met was his father’s cousin Luna, and she was rather tall for a woman. However, from studying his family genealogies, he knew that one of the Malfoy family traits was being lofty, including the women. 

 

“My mum is,” she answered sharply. He found himself struck by her odd accent as she spoke again. It sounded like she’d grown up near London, though at the same time, there was a bit of Australian and French woven into her English. It was very peculiar because he couldn’t recall any other Malfoys besides himself and his father living in London. 

 

Before he could ask for her mother’s name, the suspected Malfoy cousin shoved him to the ground, covering his body with hers as she produced a shield charm that deflected an incoming wayward spell. A bit of sweat formed at her brow as she worked to protect them, the concentrated look on her face making her look eerily like his father at that moment. 

 

There had been once he’d seen his father in a similar state. Lucius had lashed out after being told that Scorpius had no magic in his veins. His father had stepped between Scorpius and Lord Malfoy, and how he’d looked while protecting Scorpius was the same as how this girl looked now.

 

“You could get your wand out and help,” she hissed through her teeth, dropping the spell and panting. “Come on, we’re sitting ducks and must find Vivienne.”

 

She didn’t give Scorpius time to answer as she rolled off him and jumped to her feet. She had decided that he was not a threat since she didn’t shove her wand back into his flesh and instead gripped his hand and began to drag him along with her. The two of them shuffled towards an archway, the sounds of an intense dule still ringing behind them. 

 

Hiding behind the stone, peeking her head out to look around a bit, the girl turned her attention back to him for a moment; her face scrunched up as she took in his appearance. She looked down at his outfit before looking back at him. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on the wand before finally focusing on the battle raging before them. 

 

Scorpius couldn’t help but look down at what he’d thrown on that morning again. With his Crystal Palace football club jumper with simple denim and trainers, he concluded he looked like an average teenage male. “What?” He said, feeling slightly self-conscious at her scrutiny. “Do I have a stain?”

 

“Where’s your wand?” She asked again, her shackles seeming to rise. This time, Scorpius blushed at the question because there was a reason that he’d never met any of the French Malfoys. 

 

“Er, I don’t have one,” he answered, trying not to say much more and possibly have his protector abandon him. She was quite literally the only thing keeping him safe at the moment.

 

“And why not?” She questioned, turning away from him, tucking a loose bit of her hair behind her ear. He pulled back in shock at how her ears came to a slight point, just like his and his father's. Genetics were so strange…

 

Scorpius tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard her, but when she glanced back at him, the little bit of a crazed look had him answering. “I’m a squib, alright. I don’t have a wand because I don’t have any magic.” 

 

The realization flashed over her face, and for a moment, he was afraid that she might toss him into the street and abandon him just as he knew his now-dead grandfather would have in an emergency (the opportunity to rid the family of the substandard heir would have been too tempting). Still, instead, she gripped his hand and pulled him closer. 

 

“What are you–” he began, but she went up on her toes and tapped her wand on his head. Living with two wizards, Scorpius wasn’t unused to having magic happening around him, but rarely was it ever performed on him. His skin felt like something slimy was melting over him, causing him to shiver and rub his hands over his arms.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll remove it once we’re out of here. Here, in case we get separated, Enchantress Street is east. It’s not permanent, I swear, but you’ll have to lead us out while I try to redirect any stray spells.” Scorpius didn’t even have a chance to protest before she grabbed his now invisible arm and tapped it again. A bright glowing compass tattoo appeared where his arm was, allowing him to be still able to see it.

 

“East, right…” He muttered, looking back at her. Though she had already turned her back to him, he couldn't take his eyes off her. White curls pulled into a loose bun, sitting on the top of her head, which was all he could see of her, held his full attention. Aside from the curls and her being a tiny girl, Scorpius was again taken aback at how much the mystery girl looked like him.

 

Another stray spell landing much too close had Scorpius shaking out his shock. With that last warning, he grasped her hand before launching into the street, heading east according to his arm.

Chapter 5: Tell Them I Die an Honourable Death

Notes:

Translations (Done by twitter users @nova_frogster thank you!!!)

À terre ! Tout le monde à terre ! - Get on the ground! Everyone get on the ground!

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The boy dragging Lyra through the street kept yelling as they dodged more spells and debris falling from the buildings around them. Lyra was doing her best to keep up her shield and deflect anything that was coming their way, but at this point, it seemed as if they had found themselves in the middle of a fucking warzone. 

 

Though they continued to move east, Lyra kept her eyes peeled for any signs of Vivienne with each step they took. She had faith in her best friend and her abilities, but even this was more than they’d ever stumbled upon. With none of the dark wizards taking note of her or her disillusioned companion, Lyra kept faith that Vivienne had been able to get out and get help. Their singular rule was that if they ever were separated when trouble found them, they should keep moving and find help.

 

Lost in her thoughts of her friend, Lyra screamed as the boy she’d found tackled her to the ground to knock her out of the way of a crumbling archway. Lyra laid on her back, blinking as she looked straight through him and into the sky that was flashing with the bright colors of the spells being cast around them. 

 

“Are you fucking mental? Pay attention, or we aren’t getting out of this!” The boy hissed, dragging Lyra upright and tugging her forward again. His grip on her hand was tight, and she could feel his sweat and a slight tremor, but she didn’t comment. 

 

“Yeah, right,” Lyra muttered, erecting a shield again before another spell crashed into it. Her body was shaking from the amount of effort she was exerting, and it was beginning to take its toll on her physically.

 

“Is that compass still working?” She asked, looking towards where she assumed his face would be. 

 

“Yes, we’re heading east. Are you sure that’s the right direction, though?” He asked, his voice quivering with fear. She couldn’t blame him; this was fucking insanity. If she made it out of this alive, she was sure her mother was going to kill her.

 

“Yes, I fucking know that’s the right direction,” Lyra snapped, gripping his hand as she dove out of the way of another wayward spell, sending them to the cold cobblestone ground again. Though, Lyra admittedly didn’t know that east was the right direction. However, if they could at least get away from the fucking mental dark wizards having it out for whatever fucking reason, then they could re-evaluate their situation.

 

As Lyra and the boy returned to their feet and moved again, the loud cracking of multiple apparitions began to sound around them. Lyra cursed at the many newcomers joining the fight until...

 

“À terre! Tout le monde à terre ! Drop your wands and put your hands where we can see them! ” An authoritative voice bellowed, amplified by magic. 

 

Lyra looked into the sky with relief and slight horror to see the French Ministry of Magic’s DMLE logo shining bright. Without a second thought, Lyra tapped her new companion to end the spell on him, pocketed her wand, and put her hands out where any Auror could see them. They were saved, well…at least until her mother got her hands on her…

 

ooo

 

Scorpius was sitting in what he presumed was the cubical of a juvenile officer. After rescuing them from the horror-filled streets, the kind witch had offered them refreshments and snacks, both of which the two teens had taken her up on. After ensuring that neither of them had sustained any injuries and was safe, they’d been left and told that someone would be back to take their statements shortly.

 

Since, at the moment, neither Lyra (he found out that’s what her name was when she’d given it to the officer that had found them) nor he had a parent present, the questions were on a brief pause. With each being fourteen, neither turning fifteen until the twenty-second of July (sharing a birthday was yet another thing Scorpius found odd about them), they could not be spoken to about the incident until they had a parent or guardian present. 

 

Not wanting to call his father, Scorpius had given the officers Astoria’s information, hoping she’d make haste to get him and get back to the villa before his grandmother or aunts noticed how long they were taking. However, as he powered up his cell, finally having service, his hopes that no one besides his essentially worthless mother knew where he’d been were quickly dashed. 

 

One hundred seventy-four missed calls … He swallowed hard, not even attempting to listen to whatever Lyra was rattling on about some cat bookshop in a mixture of English and French. The French were fucking weird.

 

His voicemail notification was showing, along with a slew of text messages in his family's many group chats. Deciding that listening to the messages would take too long, he opened the texts to read what they might think they knew.

 

He cringed as he opened the one with his dad's, clicking the arrow to take him to the top of his unread messages.

 

Daaaaddddd: Did you see that Crystal Palace had a match tonight? Does the Villa have a television, or will you have to watch it on your phone?

 

Popsicles: Who are they playing? I need to know who my favorite team is today.

 

Daaaaddddd: Aren’t you supposed to be working? Stop oppressing the poor boy. 

 

Scorpius kept scrolling through, skimming the banter they seemed always to get engaged with when communicating. Though about twenty messages in, when he wasn’t answering or even reading, it seemed that they’d taken notice.

 

Daaaaddddd: Scorpius, Theo has told me seven times now that I have a nice butt, and you’ve yet even to send a vomiting emoji.  

 

Popsicles: I’m suspecting he’s blocked us.

 

Popsicles: Scorpius, where are you? The news just said that there’s been an incident in Montmartre District. You’re not there, are you? Anita said you might go out shopping, but didn’t give details. 

 

Popsicles: Scorpius, answer your phone.

 

Daaaaddddd: Scorpius, you better answer us, or we’re calling the aunts.

 

With the threat of his aunts, Scorpius flipped over to another group message, which was rarely used and caused him to cringe even more. His eyes flickered towards the door, sending up a prayer to any deity that it please be his fucked mother walking through the door any second. 

 

Daaaaddddd: Where is my son? Are you all out in Montmartre District? If so, you must leave and have Scorpius call me now.

 

Aunty: What are you talking about? Mum, Tori, and Scorp went to lunch. Pans and I are just sitting on the beach.

 

PP: Lad, you better just answer the fucking phone before I have to tell your dad to square up. 

 

Aunty: PANSY!

 

PP: What? Draco knows he can’t take me. Anyway, I tried calling Scorp, and it’s going straight to voicemail; he might be out of service, so I’ll send Tori a patronus that he needs to contact you.

 

Daaaaddddd: Please do and let us know ASAP. Theo’s already talking with our travel agent to get an emergency portkey.

 

Scorpius cursed under his breath, shoving his phone back into his pocket, not wanting to answer their messages until he was returning with Astoria. He glanced at the door again, wishing that his fucking mother would just get a cell so he could fucking call her. He tapped his foot before pulling his phone back out and looked at Pansy’s text once more when an idea struck him. 

 

He turned towards Lyra, who was now sitting with her head in her hands, muttering to herself, but he didn’t have time for her mental breakdown if his dads were on their way.

 

“Can you send a patronus?” He hissed, shaking Lyra’s arm and getting her attention fully on him.

 

The cold look the girl gave him had Scorpius sitting back and releasing her, but still, he was pretty fucking desperate to get back to that villa before anyone came looking for him. The silver eyes that stared back at him were so alarmingly like his own, he noted again, actually getting a good look at her in the overly bright cubicle. Even the slight almond shape and full lashes were the same as his. If he’d thought they looked related in the darkened alley, now he couldn’t help but think they were nearly identical.

 

“Why?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

“Well, if you could send a message to my mother to hurry the fuck up, I’d appreciate it.” He said, looking back towards the door as it opened, but it was just another officer walking onto the floor.

 

He wasn’t trying to hide his desperation because he knew the number one rule for being anywhere with Astoria was not to wander off. This was twofold: she wouldn’t hesitate to leave him behind and would only take him to magical shopping centers where he’d get stuck and often without cell service. 

 

“No, I can’t. Why can’t you call her? You have a cell phone, and I can see it working. Oh, do you think she’d lie and say she’s my mother too? I would rather not have Hermione barge here like a wild banshee.” 

 

“Wait, didn’t you give them your mum’s name already? Won't she be on her way regardless?” Scorpius asked, completely ignoring her questions. It was embarrassing at just what a selfish person his mother was. Astoria Malfoy didn’t do favors for anyone but herself; the idea of her showing even the slightest amount of compassion was laughable.

 

“Are you mad? No, I gave them my aunt’s information. We look more alike than me and my mum anyway,” Lyra shrugged, looking around. Her comment struck Scorpius as he racked his brain for more Malfoy trivial facts he’d been forced to learn until his grandfather's death.

 

If she looked like her aunt and not like her mum, then her mum couldn’t be a Malfoy. 

 

Now that Scorpius wasn’t running for his life and could make a more coherent thought, it made more sense. The Malfoy family was rumored to have a curse on the bloodline that only allowed for male heirs to be born. The only possibility for a daughter was through an illegitimate pregnancy or if they were the second child. When Lyra had given her name, she’d said she was Lyra Granger and not Malfoy, meaning she most likely hadn't been born in wedlock. 

 

Honestly, his opinion of the Malfoy family was that they were a bunch of fucking bigoted arseholes. How accepting she'd been of him being a squib was just another hint she hadn't grown up around them. His father embracing his squib status was the exception rather than the rule.

 

“Where is my daughter? I’m looking for fourteen-year-old Lyra Granger with blonde curly hair, about this tall.” A woman yelled so loudly at the receptionist that both the teens could hear her from their secluded corner. “No, no one called me! Her fucking friend told me they’d been running around in fucking Night Alley when the attack happened. So, I’m going to need you to tell me where the fuck my kid is now!” 

 

How Lyra’s face turned an even paler shade than she naturally was shocked Scorpius. He considered being a bit of a prick for a moment, but the fear that was radiating off her held his tongue. 

 

“MY DAUGHTER, NOW!” The same female bellowed, and a quick string of explanations that Scorpius couldn’t quite hear was sputtered off in French by a second and third voice, possibly someone translating. With a scuffling of feet and the sounds of the officers in the building getting out of the way of Lyra’s incoming mother, Scorpius almost felt bad for the girl. 

 

However, he was curious as to what was morbidly heading his way.

 

“If she’s not even bothering to take the time to figure out how to say what she’s shouting at them in French… Tell everyone I died an honorable death.” 

 

Scorpius had been trying to catch a glimpse of Lyra’s mother on her way, so he was shocked when he looked over to find the girl squatting behind a houseplant.

“I’m not sure how honorable this is,” he said, any thoughts or fears of his parents dissipating. Whoever this witch that was heading their way was…well, Scorpius was intrigued.

“Unless you want to be on the wrong end of her wand, I’d suggest you hide too. Forewarning: she’s the head curse breaker for the ministry, so she can do some damage. It’s still an honorable death, but I’m not bloody stupid.” 

“LANGUAGE!” A woman Scorpius presumed was Lyra’s mother shouted as she stepped into the cubicle. Scorpius fell from his seat in shock, toppling to the floor and ducking behind his chair, not wanting the terrifying woman to notice him. Peeking from behind his hiding place, Scorpius looked her over in complete awe of what he was seeing. 

Lyra was right; he would never have suspected if she hadn’t already informed him that this was her mother. Her olive skin tone was much darker than her daughter's, and her rich chocolate-brown hair hung long, cascading down her back. Indeed, the only similarities they seemed to share were the same wild curls and petite stature. 

Even as small as this witch was, he was scared of her. Sparks were flying off the tips of her hair, and her large, round whiskey eyes looked like flames were dancing in them. Frankly, the woman was as beautiful as she was scary. 

“What were you thinking!? I told you, don’t go in that fucking alley!” The woman shouted, not even noticing Scorpius, focusing on her child. “God damnit, Lyra! You’re fourteen years old–”

“I’ll be fifteen in four days…” Lyra murmured under her breath, but her mother still heard, her face turning even more flushed than it had been.

“Not for another four days! You asked that I trust you! You asked for me to treat you as an adult because you’re growing up, and then you go and do something so fucking stupid! You took Vivienne into Night Alley and almost got the both of you fucking killed! Do you realize that you could have died?!”

“Yes, but I didn’t. I’m fine. I used logic, just as you taught me, and was able to come out of it with just a few scratches.” Lyra said, motioning towards the bandages that had been applied after they’d been rescued. She continued to give her bullet points as to why she wasn’t nearly as foolish as her mother was insisting she was, which was amusing for just another moment. 

 

Lyra and her mother continued to bicker, but Scorpius was no longer paying attention. Just as Lyra’s mother had demanded her daughter, Scorpius felt his stomach drop when he heard the two voices he’d hoped most not to hear.

 

“Our son was brought in after being a witness to an attack—Scorpius Malfoy, M-A-L-F-O-Y, yes. Suppose you don’t mind taking me to him. I greatly appreciate it.” Scorpius glanced back at the house plant that Lyra had just been hiding in, and suddenly, it didn’t seem like such a fool-hearted idea.

Chapter 6: We Thought You Had Died

Lyra was still engaged in a row with her mother, their hair sparking as they tried to get an edge word-wise. Rationally, Lyra knew that her mother was right to be as pissed off as she was, but Lyra’s adrenaline was still running high from the events that had just taken place and her genuinely fearing for her life. Everything was bubbling over and being thrown at her mother because Lyra did not know how to process everything happening inside her.

 

By this evening, she and her mother would be curled up together, sobbing over what could have happened and eating their way through takeout and ice cream. But right now, they fight. First, they fight, then they cry and make up while they apologize for said fighting.

 

“If I hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t have been able to save him!” Lyra yelled, pointing in the direction of where what's his name was sitting on the ground and hiding behind a chair. She couldn’t even blame the poor sod for hiding from Hermione; once she got on a roll, she was a bit terrifying.

 

“Save who?” Her mother came up short, looking around the room, clearly not even having noticed… fuck, Lyra couldn’t remember his name.

 

“Him, there on the floor. Your shouting fucking scared him.” Lyra said, waving her arms wildly towards the floor. She directed her mother to where he was, but the boy no longer looked at Lyra and her mother. His whole attention was on the open entrance to the cubical. “He’s a–”

 

“Malfoy…” Hermione whispered. However, that wasn’t what Lyra was about to tell her. She had been about to explain that he was a squib, but now she was utterly sidetracked by how her mother knew his last name.

 

“Scorpius!” A blonde man exclaimed, bursting into the cramped space with another man following closely on his heels. "Are you alright? Where are Astoria and Anita?"

 

Lyra was staring open-mouthed at the two men who were opposite in looks, running their hands over Scorpius and checking him for injuries. 

 

The man who had yet to speak had tanned skin nearly glowing, and chestnut brown curls were tousled on the top of his head while the sides were shaved short, showing off one earring with a dragon dangling from it. He had thick arms wholly covered in magical tattoos. She knew they were because the ink was moving over his skin as if they, too, were trying to get closer to Scorpius. He had glasses that were haphazardly placed on his head, showing off some of the darkest blue eyes Lyra had ever seen. 

 

The other man – who was rapidly talking and asking questions – was the one who had caught her attention, though. She knew he was Scorpius’s father because they looked exactly alike. Only he was older, possibly about her mother’s age. His straight white hair was longer than his partner's, though perfectly styled and pushed out of his face. Where the other man nearly looked like he belonged in a biker gang, the only edgy thing about the blonde man was the otter tattoo on his left forearm. 

 

Lyra was so caught up in studying the men, who were Scorpius’s parents, that when her mother grabbed her arm and began to pull her towards the exit, Lyra stumbled over her own feet most ungracefully. The commotion caused the men and Scorpius to look in their direction finally. 

 

When they laid eyes on her mother, the flash of recognition on their faces morphed into something between a mixture of seeing a ghost and fury. Her mother skillfully pushed Lyra behind her, almost as if she were trying to hide her daughter from these unknown men. Lyra tried to look around her mother’s torso to get a better look at them, but her mother kept Scorpius’ family from seeing her.

 

“Malfoy, Nott,” she greeted them, confusing Lyra even more. She’d known that her mother had grown up in England and moved to France because her life in England had been ‘unfulfilling,’ as the Goblins she’d worked for held a grudge against her for some accident she’d been involved in. She knew it’d had something to do with the second wizarding war that had plagued England for most of the 90s, but Lyra didn’t know much about the details aside from her mother having lived there during it.

 

“Who the fuck are you,” the blonde man hissed, and Lyra was taken a bit aback by the tone of his voice and that he had a wand drawn on her mother. “What do you want with my son?” 

 

Her mother was no wallflower, and before Lyra could comprehend what had morphed from her getting yelled at for being a bit careless to her mum going up against two wizards in the middle of the DMLE. All three adults were in a bit of a standoff, and Lyra looked past them and toward Scorpius, who looked just as confused as she was. 

 

“Where did you get Hermione’s hair?” The brunette growled, recognizing her mother since he’d used her name.

 

“Are you two fucking daft?” Hermione spat sparks flying off her curls even more than they had been while she yelled at her daughter. “Where did someone get my fucking hair? Unless you want charges pressed against you for attacking a ministry employee – who happens to be the head curse breaker – in the middle of the fucking Auror department, I’d suggest the two of you lower your wands.” 

 

“How did we meet?” The brunette, who Lyra assumed was Nott, asked.

 

“How did we…what the fuck are you asking that for!” Her mother sounded close to her breaking point before spells would start flying. "Have you gone completely mad?"

 

“If you are Hermione, you’ll answer the bloody question!” Nott yelled, finally catching the attention of the Auror department. As Aurors started to wander over, Lyra was shocked when her mother lowered her wand, but still, her posture stayed stiff and ready to defend herself at a moment's notice.

 

“Third year in the forbidden forest, your mum had just died. I was looking for my cat, and you were petting the Thestrals. I couldn’t see them, but you could, and you told me to fuck off when I asked who you’d seen die. After that, I came back every week and watched you until you finally got tired of me watching and gave me a steak to feed them. After that, we became friends until we dated secretly all of sixth year.”

 

Lyra’s jaw went slack at the new knowledge that her mother had dated the tattooed fucking, body-building, model-looking man in front of them. His eyes widened in shock, and his wand pointing towards her dropped to his side at her apparent correct answer. The other man, however, still had a sneer on his face while he seemed to process that her mother had been with his husband. Lyra assumed it was his husband since they both wore rings and were fawning over Scorpius equally.

 

“I suppose that will suffice,” her mother spat, her full attention now on the blonde man glaring at her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Hermione clipped, pushing Lyra so that she was forced to shuffle behind her mother. 

 

“Oh no, oh fucking no, you are not excused!” The blonde yelled, blocking their exit. The French Aurors were utterly worthless; the ones who’d come to investigate just stood dumbly on the other side, watching this apparent reunion run its course. “It’s been nearly sixteen years, Granger! We thought you were fucking dead! We searched for you – for years – and yet you’ve been what, hiding in fucking France this whole time!”

 

That caught Lyra’s attention; honestly, these men gave her more questions than answers. Lyra Madeline Granger was never exactly known for being quiet and not speaking her mind, much like her mother. The longer the silence held, the more impatient Lyra got until it was too much.

 

“Why would you think my mother was dead?” Lyra asked, causing her mother to stiffen, but still, she didn’t turn towards her. However, now that Lyra had spoken and drawn attention to herself, the men in the room finally noticed her. “It’s just a bit of an odd conclusion since she is not deceased.”

 

Poking her head around her mum’s body, Lyra allowed the men to see her for the first time. Much like when they’d first seen her mother, the faces went slack with surprise, which was curious again. 

 

“Well, why would you think she’s dead? If you were truly as close to my mother as it seems you think you were, she would have told you she was moving.” Lyra interjected, irritated with all the adults in the room.

 

“How old are you?” The brunette wizard asked, unable to take his comically wide eyes off Lyra. 

 

“I’ll be fifteen in four days, though I’m not sure why that’s relevant. Are you going to tell us why you believed my mother to be dead for sixteen years, or shall I start to guess?” Now that Lyra was fully engaged in a conversation with the men, her mother didn’t try to stop her as she stepped out from behind her. She was notoriously strong-willed, something Hermione often praised and complained about in equal parts.  

 

“My father,” the blonde man started, wetting his lips as he struggled with his thoughts while looking at her. “Well, it’s something we can discuss specifics at a later time. We assumed he’d gone against his word, and an accident might have occurred. We searched for over two years and still couldn’t find you. I can now see why you made sure you weren’t found.” His attention was entirely on her mother, and Lyra looked between them, trying to put the pieces together.

 

By that point, the juvenile Auror they’d been waiting on to take their statements finally showed up, looking at the crowd gathered outside her cubicle, completely bewildered. She had a wand sticking in her hair and a pair of glasses sliding down her nose with a stack of parchment nearly falling over in her arms. 

 

“Ello,” she greeted, looking between the three adults once she’d shooed her co-workers away. “I’m Auror Detective Morgane Strum; I’ll interview the children. The three of you must be their parents, I presume?” She said, shuffling through her notes. “Lyra and Scorpius?” 

 

“Yes, we’re the parents.” The blonde man stated, taking another look in Hermione’s direction with narrowed eyes. “How long do you suspect this will take?”

 

“Well, if you want your twins just to be interviewed together–”

 

“They aren’t siblings. I’m Lyra’s mother, and they are the boy's fathers,” her mother quickly interjected, taking Lyra’s hand and pulling her towards the Auror. The woman looked between Lyra and Scorpius, glancing down at her paperwork, her eyebrows furrowing before looking at them again. 

 

“Oh, well, I apologize. The same birthday and how similar they look,” she stammered but stopped when she saw the look on Hermione’s face. “In that case, I suppose we can take Lyra first. Ladies, if you’ll follow me, gentlemen, I won’t be long.”

 

Lyra and her mother began to trail behind the witch to an interview room, but they hadn’t gone more than a few steps when Mr. Malfoy called out to Hermione. Lyra turned with her mother, looking at a pair of intense silver eyes she suspected were much like hers for a specific reason.

 

“It appears we have much to discuss,” he looked at Lyra again. “I’ll be in touch. Make sure you don’t try to disappear on me again. I can assure you, I’ll find you if you do.”

 

ooo

 

Walking through the floo with Theo, Scorpius was nearly tackled to the floor by a mass of golden blonde hair as his Aunt Daphne greeted him. With his stepfather’s help, Scorpius could stay upright in the foyer of his grandparents' villa, soothingly patting his aunt on the back. Over her shoulder in the doorway stood her wife, Pansy, and Scorpius cringed at the look on her face.

 

“Where is she?” His father asked, stepping fully into the room and past where Daphne was choking the life out of Scorpius. “Don’t try to fucking spare her; she’s lucky to be still breathing after what she did.” 

 

“She’s still out, never came back. I haven’t even heard from her.” Pansy answered, pushing herself off the wall and walking towards them. “So,” she had her full attention on Scorpius, her mossy green eyes narrowed, “how did you end up in the custody of the fucking Aurors just by going to lunch with Astoria and Anita?”

 

“Er, well, you see…” Scorpius trailed off, “Grandmother sort of left us together. Said we needed alone time to bond, and mum threw a bit of a fit and took me to go shopping. I got mad and wandered off,” he answered, keeping some of the details to himself. While his mother was a piece of shit, he knew that if he gave a complete account of what she’d said that his dads and aunts would likely harm her. She was his mother despite everything, and he still needed to protect her.

 

“Goddamnit!” Theo shouted, turning towards his dad, “I told you that we should have never let him come! Anita is always pulling this shit, trying to give Astoria another chance. This time, it could have gotten him killed!”

 

Daphne was still crying, checking him over for any injuries just as his dads had when they got to the Ministry to get him. The adrenaline that had carried him through the entire ordeal and then for the interview was finally starting to fade, and Scorpius was exhausted. As much as he loved being fawned over, there was nothing else he wanted to do but climb into his giant bed and pass out until tomorrow.

 

“Well, Lyra was brilliant,” he said, a yawn escaping him. “She didn’t let a single spell come near us.”

 

“Who’s Lyra?” Pansy asked, looking confused and between Draco and Theo. “One of the Aurors?”

 

“Nah,” Scorpius yawned again, finally freeing himself from Daphne. “Just some French Malfoy cousin that I ran into. She’s wicked brilliant, but I’m beat. Can we skip the bit where you all yell at me and go straight to where I’m grounded for the rest of the summer holiday?” 

 

He stretched his arms above his head, the aches in his body screaming at him for a hot bath first, but he struggled to keep his eyes open.

 

“You’re not grounded,” his dad said, surprising him, not that Scorpius would argue with the decision not to punish him. “But yeah, I can’t imagine how tired you must be. We’ll move your stuff to the penthouse tomorrow.”

 

Scorpius stopped, his weary body forgotten momentarily as he looked between his dads. 

 

“Like the penthouse is Paris? We’re not going home?” 

 

“No, there are a few things we just realized need our attention here,” Theo answered for his father, kissing Scorpius on his forehead. “Off to bed; we’ll talk more tomorrow.”

 

“Is this because you know Lyra’s mum?” Scorpius asked, looking between his dads. “She didn’t seem to like you, nor likely that she’s very interested in chatting it up.”

 

Daphne and Pansy were curious about who he was talking about, but he felt slightly protective of Lyra and her mum. Lyra had saved his life, and whatever his dads had done to slight her mum to make her leave England must have been pretty bad. Especially with the reaction that she’d had to them, he would bet that they’d been right shits to her.

 

“We can talk more tomorrow,” his dad said, obviously not interested in what Scorpius had to say. 

 

“All I’m saying,” Scorpius said, walking backward towards the staircase to his bedroom, “is maybe you should leave the Grangers alone.” He heard Daphne and Pansy gasp, but Scorpius turned on his feet and jogged up the stairs, not wanting to hear anything else his dad might have to say. 

 

Instead of heading towards his bedroom, however, Scorpius made a detour to his grandfather’s office. Even if he weren’t a wizard, the owl the older man had brought with him would know how to get a message to Lyra. Perhaps if he was to stay in France longer, they could get together and try to sort out what had happened between their parents. If nothing else, he’d at least like to properly thank her for saving his life.

Chapter 7: I Have a Potion

The snitch was whizzing about her room in a flash of barely visible gold. Her mother had confiscated her wand only to be used while supervised when she needed to do some summer homework. It was overkill, but Lyra accepted her current situation to an extent. 

 

“Lyra, honey,” her mother said from the other side of her door. 

 

“Hear that, Tilly? I got a visitor!” Lyra exclaimed to her new cat that her mother had given her when they’d gotten home the other day.

 

“I’m still upset with your decisions, and you understand why you’re in trouble, yes?” Lyra rolled her eyes, though the only one who could see was Matilda (her tuxedo, long-haired cat with more of an attitude than even she possessed).

 

Jumping to her feet, Lyra yanked open the door and looked up slightly at her mother with her lips pursed. Hermione sighed, taking in her daughter’s tense posture, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 

 

“Aunt Gabby is on her way–”

 

“I don’t need a babysitter! I’m fifteen!” Lyra exclaimed, her frustration with her mother rising again. “You have my wand. What else could I possibly get into without it!?”

 

“Perhaps you’d like to get out today, seeing it’s your birthday.” Her mother snapped, her frustration with Lyra finally boiling over. “There are a few things that I need to take care of, and I thought you might not want to be cooped up in this house all day.” 

 

The sounds of the water splashing against the rocks came through Lyra’s open window as if a reminder of how far from civilization they truly lived. Without her wand or access to the floo, Lyra was very much stuck in her home, as she’d figured out on the first day of her confinement. 

 

“What are you doing then?” Lyra asked, narrowing her eyes on her mother. She never worked on Lyra’s birthday, so the fact that she was busy made Lyra suspicious. “Might it have something to do with Scorpius’ fathers?” She wagered the guess, and when her mother’s face flushed at the reminder of the wizards she’d known and dated, Lyra knew she was right on the money with her conclusion.

 

“That’s none of your concern.” Hermione reminded her, but Lyra had already gotten the truth from her body language and didn’t need to press the issue further. “Anyway, I’ll be out tending to other things. Aunt Gabby will be around in about an hour or so. Thought you might have some fun going to Lyon.”

 

“Lyon!?” Lyra exclaimed, resisting the urge to look back towards her desk, where she had a letter from a certain blonde-haired squib hidden. “Why not Paris?” She didn’t need her mother to answer, as it was clear why. 

 

Scorpius was in Paris, which meant his fathers were in Paris, and Hermione was making it a point to keep Lyra as far away from them as possible.

 

“Fine, keep your secrets,” Lyra said, returning to her room to throw herself on her bed. “I’ll go to Lyon with Aunt Gabby, and you chat it up with those wizards you’re trying to keep me from. Though, I do wonder why, mother.” Lyra had her arm thrown over her eyes to cover them, the pieces of this puzzle slowly starting to fall into place. 

 

Tears threatened to boil over, but she held them back as best she could. Her silver eyes matched Mr. Malfoy’s. She didn’t even know what else to call him because her mother flat-out refused to tell her his given name. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a logical conclusion. 

 

Her mother had admitted that she’d dated Mr. Nott (she didn’t know his name either), and it wasn’t a far leap to think that she might have dated Scorpius’ biological dad. His otter tattoo, his reaction to finding out that she wasn’t dead, his slight slip up of mentioning his father having possibly threatened her mother with or without Hermione’s knowledge.

 

And just how bloody much Scorpius looked like her. 

 

“Lyra…I…you don’t understand.” 

 

“No, you don’t understand!” Lyra shouted, sitting up to stare down her mother in her doorway. “You lied to me; you continue to lie to me. An unknown muggle man, my arse! Please leave; it seems like it’s something you’re good at doing.”

 

Lyra threw herself back on the bed, her emotions taking over as she sobbed into her pillow. All these years, she’d thought her mother was like some deity. Untouchable and nearly as perfect as they came. All these years, she’d been told that her father was just some bloke wandering around because her mother didn’t know who he was.

 

As it turned out, Lyra might have a father and a brother that her mother knew. 

 

“Lyra…”

 

“Just go."  

 

The only sound was Lyra’s quiet hiccups as she continued to cry, her mother warring with herself on what to do. Lyra, however much she would have loved to be held like a little girl by her mother, was refusing that comfort. After a long pause, she could hear her door click shut, eventually followed by the front door. When a ‘crack’ in the distance signaled that she was alone, Lyra finally got up from her bed, searching for a pen and paper. 

 

Can you get someone to bring you to Lyon today? We need to talk.

 

Lyra scribbled out the note and rushed to where her family’s tawny owl rested in his cage. She clicked her tongue a few times to wake him, not daft enough to pet him and risk being nipped.

 

“Tate,” she clicked her tongue again, finally waking the bird. “Hello darling, could you take this to Paris? Please wait for a reply and return it to me as quickly as possible. I should be here until the afternoon, but I might be in Lyon…I know, but I’ll give you extra treats for your troubles.” 

 

With a rustle of his feathers and an annoyed hoot, Tate held out his leg through the open door of his cage, ready for the message. Lyra grinned, tying it to him and pulling out snacks as a pre-payment for his troubles. 

 

Clicking his beak in appreciation, Tate blinked his giant yellow eyes and flew out the window. As Lyra watched him disappear into the sky, she hoped that she’d be able to meet up with Scorpius today because confirming if he was her brother would be the best birthday gift.

 

Heading into the back garden where her lab was in a shed behind the house, Lyra knew the potion she’d need to brew and hoped it’d be done before Gabby arrived.

 

ooo 

 

“Lyon? Why the bloody hell do you need to go to Lyon?” Scorpius’ unfortunate best mate asked as he sat glued to the television that took up most of the wall playing an online game. “YOU BLOODY WANKER, MOVE YOUR ASS!” He yelled into the headset at some poor sod that was playing with him.

 

“I got to meet up with a girl–”

 

“You meet a bird?” James scoffed, not looking away from the screen as he pounded the commands on the controller. “I suppose I could floo us over there if you know of any connections. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY!”

 

“I think she’s my cousin, so she’s not a bird. But Dad, Theo, Daphne, and Pansy have been completely mentally since they learned they know her mum.” Scorpius answered, and James didn’t even look away from the screen, still cursing out whoever he was playing with.

 

“Is that why Dad rushed us over here then? Fucking hell!” James threw off the headset and controller as his character fell to the ground, dying. “Alright then, I mean, yeah, we can go. Is she hot?”

 

“She looks like a girl version of me,” Scorpius deadpanned as his redheaded friend stood up, stretching his hands over his head. “Hot isn’t how I’d ever view an obvious relative.”

 

“I don’t know, mate, you are part Black.” At the jab to his grandmother’s family, Scorpius swung his fist in James’ direction, making contact with the top of his friend’s head before walking out of the room. 

 

It took about two minutes for James to swipe his dad's floo network booklet that directed him to all the public floo connections worldwide. Having fathers in the Auror department occasionally came in handy. Finding one connected to an inn on a little wizard street in Lyon was easy. Scorpius scribbled a reply to Lyra's message to let her know where they'd be and sent it with the owl, which he assumed was hers, but not before the bloody thing nipped him.

 

His dad and Theo had left earlier in the day with James' dad (who also happened to be his dad's Auror partner), and they were told to stay near the penthouse. Technically, they were using the floo network in the penthouse, so it was pretty nearby. If you counted twoish hours by train near, though with James along with him, they could get anywhere within an instant. Magic, it was beautiful occasionally.

 

After a couple of hours, wanting to ensure the owl had been given enough time to deliver the message, the boys were ready to head to Lyon.

 

“Alright, how do I look?” James asked, sliding a pair of sunglasses up his nose before messing up his already naturally unruly red hair.

 

“Lyra is going to hate you…” Scorpius commented as James checked his reflection in the mirror, causing the wizard to shoot him a grin. 

 

“Absolutely, but all women love to hate James Sirius Potter,” he smirked, grabbing Scorpius’ hand as they walked into the emerald green flames.

 

The teenage boys were spit out of the hearth and into a dodgy-looking inn. Not wanting a repeat of the actives from a few days prior, James and Scorpius pressed themselves against the wall. They skirted around the pub, heading straight for the exit, weary of the dark hoods covering all the patrons' faces and the hushed, angry whispers. One man had even punched another in the face just as they toppled out the exit. 

 

Even with the door open, sunlight didn’t pour inside. The bar stayed nearly pitch black as they threw themselves outside onto a dirt path, desperate to escape the danger. 

 

“Why would you floo to a place called the Savage Basilisk?” Scorpius looked up from the ground he was lying on to see Lyra standing over him. Today, she wore a pale blue cloak with a hood drawn over her blonde curls. Next to her was another girl, but Scorpius was too busy looking at the witch he’d come all this way to meet up.

 

“Is that what it translates to?” James asked from the ground next to him. “You could have bloody warned me!” Scorpius only rolled his eyes before standing up and brushing the dirt off the slacks and polo he’d worn for the day. 

 

“I honestly didn’t think about it, anyway. Hi, Lyra.” He said, smiling down at the girl, who didn’t look nearly as happy to see him as he hoped. “Happy birthday.”

 

“Happy birthday to you, too, now, come on, let’s not get caught in another international incident. One in a week is enough for me.” Without another word, Lyra spun on her heels and began to walk away with her friend, making Scorpius and James rush to catch up.

 

Much to his surprise, James had yet to comment on either of the girls they’d just met with. Usually, this would cause Scorpius at least a margin of concern, but at the moment, he was happy James was keeping his comments to himself and not being cursed and injured by the females he was offending. 

 

Lyra and her friend made quick work, drifting through the streets until they were outside a much nicer-looking inn with vines and flowers growing up the outside. This part of the city was also considerably more welcoming, with shoppers bustling about with a friendly demeanor.

 

They pushed inside, and the smells of stew and freshly baked bread filled the air. A much warmer crowd than the one James had initially taken them to fill the space, as families, women having social events, and even persons who seemed to be on their lunch breaks sat about. Boisterous and friendly chatter, with no threats being spat, had Scorpius feeling much calmer. Lyra wove her way through the crowd, the hood of her cloak now dropped, allowing the white curls to sway with her steps.

 

Scorpius now took notice of the friend accompanying them, a girl who looked semi-similar to himself and Lyra, but there were some striking differences. Her face was much rounder. Each time she looked over her shoulder, he noticed that her eyes were wide, and the color was lighter blue than the silver he and Lyra had. Each time she realized he’d seen her staring at him, she would abruptly turn back around for only a moment before studying him again. 

 

When they reached a staircase and began to climb the narrow steps, Scorpius couldn’t keep his curiosity to himself any longer. 

 

“What are we doing?” He whispered, not feeling it appropriate to speak any louder.

 

“I have a theory that I wanted to test,” Lyra answered quickly, not slowing down as Scorpius followed behind her friend and James behind him. 

 

Lyra didn’t offer any more information as they came to a small sitting room resembling a conference room. The witch stood aside and allowed everyone else to enter before sticking her head out and shutting the door. Turning back around, Scorpius couldn’t help but smile at her. He couldn’t help himself; something about being around a relative his age wholly accepted him and made him feel...he wasn’t sure. Happy maybe?

 

“I need a hair,” she stated, instantly causing the grin to slip from his face.

 

“I’m sorry?” He said, looking between the friend and James before back at Lyra. “Why do you need my hair?”

 

“I have a potion,” she said, digging through an inner pocket of her cloak. She eventually pulled out a vial filled with a silver shimmering liquid, making Scorpius raise a brow. “And I need to add our hair to it. Ideality: I would use your father’s, but you’re the next best–”

 

“What do you mean you’d use my father’s hair?” Scorpius asked, now completely bewildered by the girl. “Are you trying to figure out whether we’re related?”

 

“Yes,” both girls answered in sync, which caused Scorpius to turn his attention back to the friend.    

 

“Oh, right, Scorpius, this is Vivienne, Vivi, this is Scorpius.” 

 

Scorpius nodded in Vivienne’s direction, just slightly wondering why she looked so perplexed by him. He gestured towards James, standing dumbly watching Lyra and possibly not blinking. 

 

“This is my mate, James,” he said, waving a hand before his friend’s face. 

 

“Hello,” Lyra and Vivienne said, but James still didn’t speak. When the silence continued to an uncomfortable point, Lyra narrowed her eyes at the redhead and returned to Scorpius. “Is he a mute?”

 

“Normally, I can’t get him to shut up,” Scorpius told her, using his index finger to poke James in the arm. 

 

“Hm, well anyway,” Lyra reached up and plucked a hair of her own after handing the vial to Vivienne. She dropped the long white strand into the silver potion, causing it to bubble a bit. “Hair, please; I want to finish this before Aunt Gabby starts looking for us.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” he answered, following suit and pulling one of his own. Lyra snatched it out of his hand and dropped it into the bubbling liquid without a word.

 

As the potion began to shift colors, Scorpius again wondered what it was. A bright red began fading into a burnt orange, and he saw Lyra pulling a book from her cloak. Her eyes scanned the page, clearly looking for what this might mean. When she found it, her eyes widened, and he could hear a slew of curses falling from her lips.

 

“Well, what is it?” He asked when she still hadn’t explained herself. A breath, then two, passed before she finally looked up at him, tears filling her eyes. “Lyra, what does it mean?”

 

Lyra and Vivienne exchanged a look, and it seemed that even James was starting to emerge from his hypnosis as he noticed the potion. Scorpius waited, looking between the three, but none of them said anything. “Will someone please explain to me what that means?” Scorpius asked, his frustration evident.

 

“It means…You’re my brother…”

Notes:

Hello, I saw a handful of comments and I just wanted to address something that I don't think will organically be explained in the story. Scorpius being a squib has nothing to do with Lyra's birth. Sometimes squibs are just born and there's no explanation why.

Anyway, chapter 8 might take a few extra days as I finish up edits on Time Keepers chapter 6. If you haven't read that one, you can find it in my stories. It is another Dreomione with teenage children. Though, I'll say to read the tags.

For updates on what I'm working on you can find me on social media, Facebook; Sarah Fraser's Forest and Dreomione Appreciation and then also on twitter or whatever it's called now at @sarahfhickman

Chapter 8: Half-Siblings, but still, Siblings, Nonetheless

After getting the results of the potion, Lyra and the rest of the teens were in shock and stood around looking at each other. After it had settled in, she’d begun to pepper her brother with questions about his parents, specifically his – their – father, and the boy had obliged. He’d, in turn, had his questions, some regarding her mother, but mostly just wanting to know more about her.

 

It was surreal. She and Scorpius were siblings. Half-siblings, but still siblings, nonetheless. And Lyra had a suspicion that her mother had known all along.

 

Even though it was her birthday, Lyra felt defeated as her Aunt Gabby, and Vivienne dropped her off at the tiny home she’d grown up in. She knew that when her mother had moved to France, she had started entirely over, bringing no one from her old life with her. It wasn’t until Lyra was nearly two that Hermione introduced her to her maternal grandparents because it hadn't occurred to Hermione to tell them about her. 

 

Instead, she’d just accepted that they’d been upset with her for erasing their memories and worked under the assumption that they wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with Lyra. The opposite had been the case when she'd finally reached out one day. While they’d been angry with her for what she did, they’d never stopped loving or wanting to be in her life. They just needed time after their memories had been restored, just months before Hermione left for France. Her mother had, at that point, been missing from their lives for nearly three years, and until she and Lyra showed up on their doorstep, they'd assumed the worst had happened to their daughter.

The same way it seemed everyone in England had as well. 

Lyra dropped face-first onto her bed, feeling Matilda rubbing her head against Lyra’s arm, trying to get her attention. As her new familiar meowed and kneaded her arm, Lyra looked up at the cat, her bright green eyes blinking. 

 

“I don’t have any treats for you,” Lyra deadpanned, to which Matilda huffed before wandering off and leaving her alone. 

 

“Lyra? Honey?” She could hear her mother’s voice as the front door opened, and Lyra shoved her head under her pillow. What she wouldn’t give to have a while longer to try and process what she’d just learned without her mother hoovering. 

 

It was too much to ask because Hermione stood in Lyra’s doorway too soon. Her eyes were tired, and her shoulders were sagging forward, but all Lyra could see was the woman who had hurt her. Just as she’d denied Lyra and her grandparents of a relationship for two years, she’d done the same with her father and brother. This time, the betrayal cut much more profound.

 

“How did your meeting with Draco and Theo go? That’s who I’m assuming you went to spend all day with,” Lyra said, sitting up and swiping at the tears pooling in her eyes. 

 

“How do you know their names?” Hermione asked instead, deflecting the question with one of her own. Lyra was too tired to keep up with her mother’s charade. Too tired and too bloody sad.

 

“I met with Scorpius and his friend James today. I asked them to meet Vivi and me in Lyon.” Hermione looked shocked, blinking a few times while she registered that her daughter had gone behind her back and set up a meeting with a boy Hermione most likely would like Lyra to forget about entirely. However, that was impossible for Lyra to do. “I brewed a paternity potion and tested our hair. Turns out we’re half-siblings and have the same father.” 

 

Lyra let this simmer a moment, the truth of the situation hanging in the air, and Hermione at least had the decency to look ashamed. “But you knew I had a brother, didn't you? How could you keep them from me, Mum?” Lyra didn’t even try to hide her tears; instead, she let her mother see just how much hurt she’d caused her daughter. 

 

“Lyra, honey, you don’t understand. The things Draco did, they were unforgivable.” Hermione said, stepping into the room, but stopped when Lyra held up her hand. 

 

“Was Draco a danger to my physical or mental well-being?” She asked, her heart breaking. 

 

“No, not that I'm aware of, but he got engaged–”

 

“So, he broke up with you and broke your heart?” Lyra knew she was being rude and cutting her mother off, but she didn’t want to hear what she had to say until her mother understood why she was upset. “Because you were hurt, you decided to deny a presumably perfectly suitable father a relationship with his child and me a relationship with my father. You lied, Mum. All these years, you lied to me, telling me that my father was some muggle man that you met for a one-time thing and could never find. You’ve kept an entire half of who I am hidden from me because he hurt your feelings.” Lyra didn’t shout; she couldn't; her voice was hardly above a whisper as she spoke her truths to her mother. 

 

“I was going to tell him, but then…then I found out he and Astoria were expecting and due around the same time I was with you. I thought we would be better off without him.” Hermione said, shuffling her feet, though she at least tried maintaining eye contact with Lyra. 

 

“You thought we’d be better off without him, or you would be? Mum, I just…Gran and Grandad, how would you have felt if you’d never known one of them?” She brushed away the tears blurring her vision, but it did no good as they were quickly replaced. 

 

“I wouldn’t be pleased about it,” Hermione confessed, and Lyra knew that her mother understood just how wrong she’d been in her decision to flee England. That it was unfair to have deceived Lyra into believing she didn't have a father. “I didn’t want Astoria in your life.”

 

“Astoria is a fucking cow! Scorpius told me that his parents were divorced as soon as his grandfather died because, without the old Lord Malfoy, they wouldn’t have had to stay in their awful marriage! Mum, Astoria wouldn’t have wanted to be in my life! She doesn’t even want to be in her own son’s! She left Scorpius that day in Night Alley. She told him off and treated him like a fucking dog. Then, when he called her from the ministry, she never showed up! Did it never cross your mind to question why Draco would have left you for her? From what Scorpius has told me, she’s always been that selfish and vapid.”

 

“No, I… Look, the night before his wedding, he came over to explain. Only, we’d been drinking, and the conversation never happened. The next morning, he was married, and I decided to save myself and start a new life here.” Hermione clasped her hands behind her back as she toed the area rug on Lyra’s floor. “I assumed it had something to do with his inheritance and needing to marry a pureblood witch and have a pureblood heir. We didn’t fit that mold, so I decided to keep us away was the best move. Anywhere his father was involved, there had always been trouble. For our safety also, I'd resolved myself into not reaching out.”

 

“But you based this all off assumptions and not facts? Even after Lucius Malfoy had died?” Lyra confirmed, wanting to ensure she wasn’t walking into this without all the information.

 

“Yes,” Hermione answered, keeping her head down and unable to look Lyra in the eye. “For what it’s worth, I thought I was doing what was best. Though, now I realize that I was wrong.”

 

Lyra looked at her mother, with her head hung, and felt a pang of guilt that she was contributing to the hurt that her mother was feeling. Only that tiny amount of guilt was nothing compared to the fury that she felt towards her mother for keeping her from knowing her father all her life. They’d had a bad breakup from the sounds of it, but it still didn’t give her mother the right to keep Lyra away from Draco. Not if Draco wasn’t a danger, and from what little she’d learned from Scorpius that afternoon, Draco wouldn’t ever put her in harm's way. Even where his father had been involved, Draco would have protected her.

 

“Please, leave,” Lyra said, returning to her pillow and hugging it to her chest. When she heard Hermione begin to protest, she shook her head and looked over her shoulder at the witch. “I love you, but I’m mad at you. You…you took someone from me who you had no right to. I’m just as much his daughter as I am yours, and you decided that no one could know about me, and kept me for yourself to protect your heart, not me.”

 

Hermione didn’t say anything more, just watched Lyra for another moment before nodding her head and walking out the door. Turning back into her pillow, Lyra cried for the fifteen years she’d lost with her father and hoped that he’d somehow want to know her as much as she craved to get to know him.

 

ooo

 

Scorpius and James were positioned outside the penthouse foyer and could hear the chatter of his dads, James’ father, and his aunts just on the other side of the door. The two teens shared a look, James shrugging his shoulders, giving Scorpius the lead on how to proceed. 

 

He first took a few deep breaths to steady himself, but then Scorpius pushed the door open in the middle of one of Theo’s rants with his best mate by his side. “We need to go and get confirmed paternity so that you can file to amend her birth certificate to be named her father. Get visitation set up, and pay whatever backed child support is due. Fuck waiting around to see what Hermione will do!”

 

“Shouldn’t we consider what Lyra might want in all of this?” His dad was asking, his head dropped in his hands, and his shoulders sagged. “It’s not like she’s a little girl; what if she’s happy to have a life without her seemingly deadbeat father coming out of nowhere fifteen years later?”

 

“So, you didn’t know about her?” Scorpius asked, drawing the attention of all five adults in the room, looking at each of them. “My sister, I mean.”

 

James’ father, Harry, pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his already unruly black hair. His Aunt Pansy’s posture was stiff, and her arms crossed over her chest as if she were ready to defend herself at any moment, whereas his Aunt Daph was silently crying and dabbing away tears. Theo was prepared for war, and his dad just seemed defeated. 

 

“No,” Draco finally answered, not moving from his place on the couch. “I had no idea about Lyra. We, all of us, thought that her mum had died after we searched for her for two years and came up empty-handed.”

 

“Why?” This time, James asked, looking not at Draco but Harry. “I recognize her mum’s name; that’s the woman Uncle Ron dated and was horrible too, right? The same woman helped you save the world and your life countless times. Why would you possibly have thought she was dead?”

 

Harry looked around at the others, his face red at his son’s questioning. However, it was Theo who answered instead. “Lucius threatened her life. He had a werewolf stalking her, brought Draco evidence of having been in her home, and said that if Draco didn’t end things, her life would be the next thing he took.”

 

“Lucius did…that?” Scorpius asked, utterly shocked as he fell into the chair beside his father. “That’s how you ended up married to Astoria?”   

 

“Yeah,” his dad admitted, still not looking in his direction as if he were ashamed of what had happened. Not that he ought to be; it wasn’t his fault that his grandfather had been a blood purist. “I tried to tell her, but when he had me sign the betrothal contract, it barred me from speaking of his threats. When he died, it broke, and I was able to tell Theo, Harry, and your aunts.”

 

“That’s bloody mental,” James stated as he squeezed into the spot next to Scorpius. “So, what, you thought this werewolf guy had killed her when you couldn’t find her?”

 

“Essentially,” Pansy cleared her throat, stepping forwards. “We searched everywhere. Overturned every stone, paid bribes, contacted Viktor fucking Krum. We were her best bloody friends, and that witch didn’t answer any letters we wrote explaining what we thought might have happened. All to discover that the French ministry was hiding her in plain sight, unbeknownst to them. I didn't even realize they had such strong protective measures to conceal with Curse Breakers identities.”

 

“I think I might do better if you tell me the whole story. You know, from the beginning.” Scorpius looked between the adults, ready to discover precisely what had happened—the mystery of Hermione Granger and why she would have hidden Lyra. 

 

“Alright, so,” Theo began when no one else spoke up, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Your dad and Lyra’s mum started dating secretly when they returned to school for their eighth year. Though at the time, she was also dating the prat.”

 

“Uncle Ron,” James supplied.

 

“Yes, that,” Theo confirmed, turning back to Scorpius. “So, they are dating in secret, and when they had a pregnancy scare towards the end of the year, your mum,” Theo pointed in James’ direction, “overheard and told this guy.” Theo clasped Harry on the shoulders, “and her brother.”

 

“So, they were having an affair for the entire year and were shocked when Potter and the Weasleys got upset with her for lying.” Pansy supplied, “Though it shouldn’t have mattered because by then, Daph and I were her best friends and supported her decision to ditch dead weight.”

 

“Hey!” Harry chimed up but quieted down when Pansy looked in his direction. 

 

“So, you stopped speaking?” Scorpius confirmed, to which Harry nodded, his face red. 

 

“To be fair,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck, “I was engaged to Ginny, and Hermione made Molly feel slighted. It was honestly a mess and not my best move.”

 

“You and Mum never got married, though?” James replied, trying to keep up with the wild conversation. 

 

“Yeah...we knew that would be a bloody mistake, but Molly, well, she’s a bit mental, and we just did what she asked, trying to make her happy. Anyway, that meant no longer speaking with Hermione, which I regretted as soon as I stopped hanging around Ron, and Gin and I went our separate ways,” Harry held up his hands defensively.

 

“Okay, anyway,” Scorpius said, returning his attention to his dad. “Then what happened? Grandfather threatened her life?”

 

“Well, we were happy together for the next four years. I was cut off from the family vaults, and we were poor but happy.” Draco said, smiling softly at the fond memories. “Then, one day, he invited me to lunch, and I thought it was to discuss all the work I’d done trying to repair our family's name. I was wrong.

 

“Instead, he threatened her life and gave me the picture she had of us on her bedside table. As soon as he was done letting me know that her life was in danger, Astoria showed up, and we signed the betrothal contract. A picture was in the paper right after, and she stopped speaking to me. I went to see her the night before the wedding, and that was the last I ever heard from Hermione Granger.”

 

Scorpius looked around at the adults gathered, each filled with a different reaction to finding out that Lyra’s mum was alive. It was apparent that they’d all cared for her, but even from what little Lyra had told him about her mother, besides her Aunt Gabby, Hermione had kept people at an arm's distance her whole life. 

 

“Why did you stop looking for her?” Scorpius looked towards his dad, who’d just accepted a drink from Theo, taking a sip while his leg bounced. “If she was so important, I can’t imagine you just gave up.”

 

“We searched for three years; after that, we had feelers out for her. But there was no trail. No Hermione, no Greyback, and no proof of Lucius’ connection to bring up any charges against him. Trust me, we tried.” His father set his firewhisky aside and reached out for Scorpius next to him, taking his hands. 

 

“Son, you must believe me; if I’d known about Lyra, you would have grown up with your sister.” He promised, and Scorpius knew that he was telling the truth. While he and his mother hadn’t had a loving relationship, his father had always been dedicated to him. He’d found his stride in parenting and always wanted to be around for everything Scorpius did. Even when he had to learn what polo and football were, he’d been all in despite the challenges of having a squib for a son. 

 

“I know,” Scorpius whispered, letting his dad pull him into a hug. “Lyra’s brilliant and a bit scary, if I’m being honest. She’s curious about you, and I think you’d like her.” 

 

Draco pulled away from his son, looking into his matching silver eyes before laughing. He shook his head, looking out from Scorpius and over to where Theo stood with Pansy and Daph, smiling softly at that information. 

 

“She’s also fit,” James stated, to which Harry lunged at his son and smothered him. “What, she is!” Scorpius could hear his friend’s muffled commentary while next to him, his dad narrowed his eyes.

 

“I swear you have a death wish,” Harry muttered.

Notes:

Alright, so this is going to be a bit of a rant.

Lyra is not a brat, and her reaction to finding out that her father has been kept from her and she's been lied to her whole life is very valid. Hermione is completely in the wrong here. Lyra made all the points I wanted to, but I'll still outline it.

1. Lyra is not a brat. She's reacting age appropriately to finding out she's been lied to her entire life and denied a parent.

2. Just because you have a shitty break up does not mean that you get to cut your ex out of THEIR child's life

3. Hermione knowingly slept with a man she knew was getting married the following day. She made that decision and Draco went there, but she didn’t have to sleep with him. He was there to talk to her and explain best he could. However, they were young, drunk, and horny.

4. Hermione knew Draco was in love with her and should have been suspicious about why he was marrying someone else.

So, anyway, this is just a bit of an update for this story. I'm planning on it being about 25-30 chapters, not an exact count yet. I'm going to continue trying to post twice a week updates until the 21st of this month when school starts back up again for me. After that, I'm not entirely sure what I will be able to keep up with.

I have recently completed a handful of fics, so if you are enjoying this make sure you check out the rest of my works.

Chapter 9: I Don’t Want to go Without You

In the days following Lyra and Hermione’s discussion, Lyra had noticed her mother's absence around their house, allowing her time to think. Think about what would have motivated her mother before she was born, what could have been happening in England that had been so horrible that she would have fled. Something that would have kept her underground for her entire life had Lyra not stumbled upon Scorpius. 

 

It wouldn't have taken much when Lyra thought about what she knew about her mother’s past.

 

There had been a war in England over muggleborns and their rights even to exist that her mother had fought in it as a child. She'd gotten a job that had no room for advancement out of school, and then a few years later, she’d decided to leave. That was really and truly the extent of what she’d been told. She knew of a chest of different trinkets and memorabilia that her mother had brought with her when she'd moved to France, but that was only because Lyra had walked in on her mother and Gabby shifting through the items. That had been a few years ago, and Lyra had been too busy with whatever she was doing to bother asking about it. Now, she regretted not knowing what had been dear to her mum. 

 

However, despite her lack of knowledge, Scorpius had been a dutiful pen pal, filling in some of the gaps. He was writing Lyra and telling her what he’d found out from his – their – father on the topic of her mother. Being who she was, Lyra wasn’t taking his words for face value and had been compiling a list of follow-up questions that she wanted to ask Draco when the time was right. 

 

Such as, since he works as an Auror, why didn’t he press charges against his father himself for threats against her mother’s life? Why would he jump straight into signing a betrothal contract instead of stepping away for a moment to contact law enforcement or even her mum if they’d been together for so long and were so madly in love? If they’d been looking for her mother, how did they so easily miss that she was working for the French Ministry? (Though she knew for security reasons, her mother’s office and others in the same field were kept relatively confidential, with the employees not being public record, so that might have been why they’d never found her there.)

 

Still scribbling away in her notebook, the letter from her brother out on her desk next to her, Lyra completely missed when her mother entered the room. It wasn’t until a steaming cup of hot cocoa was set next to her, jarring her from her work, that she even looked up.

 

“Can I help you?” Lyra asked, turning back to the list she was writing, still upset with her mother. It was cold, but Lyra had a bit of a mean streak that kept her from softening when angry or upset. She'd always done it to protect herself from being hurt more.

 

“We need to talk,” Hermione said, causing Lyra to scoff. She could hear her mother sigh, but she otherwise ignored Lyra’s rudeness. “Draco and Theo are going to be going back to London. They’ve asked if you would like to join them for a few weeks before school starts back up.”

 

“What?” Lyra dropped her pen in shock, her head shooting up to look at her mother again. “You mean, go with them, alone?” 

 

“I thought you might want to get to know your father and his family. I’ve realized that it wasn’t right to lie to you about who your father was. I stick by leaving England when I did was in our best interests, but lying about Draco was wrong. I should have been honest with you when you started asking questions.”

 

“You’re not coming with me?” Lyra looked between her mum’s eyes, seeing the regret and the pain in the dark brown eyes she’d always loved and found comfort in. 

 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” Hermione answered, fiddling with her hands clasped before her. “I thought you might like some space from me, and I can respect that need as you are fifteen now and growing into an adult.”

 

“No,” Lyra exclaimed, standing from her chair so quickly that it toppled over and clattered against the floor. Hermione’s face morphed into a confused expression at the outburst, though she said nothing, allowing Lyra to continue. “I don’t want to go without you. What I mean is, I’d like to get to know them, but I want you to come with me.”

 

The words tumbled out in a rush without Lyra fully thinking them over, though it was all true. Lyra, as strong and independent as she was, still needed her mother. The thought of going to England and getting to know her father and his family was thrilling yet terrifying. There was no way that she wanted to miss this opportunity, but she didn’t want to stay in their home or anything like that. As much as Lyra liked Scorpius, she didn’t know him well enough to feel comfortable staying with him for two weeks. She didn’t know anything about Draco or Theo aside from seeing them in passing after a fucking terrorist attack. 

 

“Please,” Lyra pleaded. She’d been putting the brunt of her anger on her mother, and because of it, she knew that there might be a chance that Hermione would deny her. However, the fear was minimal as that wouldn’t be the woman who’d single-handedly raised her all these years.

 

“Of course, I’ll come,” Hermione told her, reaching out and pulling Lyra into a hug. Breathing in her mother’s honey and cinnamon scent, the nerves that had been warring inside Lyra for the last few days finally began to settle. Perhaps things would go smoother now, Lyra hoped, allowing the comfort from her mother to warm her.

 

ooo

 

“Why is little Potter with us again?” Theo asked, looking over towards James, who was running his hands through his hair, causing the red mess to be even more unruly. 

 

“Because other Potter had a date with whatever the fuck his name was, and Blaise, Luna, and Ginevra are still in Spain on holiday.” His dad deadpanned, clearly not amused by his Auror partner’s need to keep up with his flavor-of-the-month lifestyle.

 

“He’s fifteen; he can be left unattended for a few hours,” Theo grumbled, but Scorpius only smirked to himself, knowing that James would always be welcomed along with their family outings.

 

His dad looked around at the small group gathering before the fireplace in their receiving room. On the mantel was a collection of magical pictures outlining their lives. Ones from his dad and Theo’s wedding when he was ten, his dads moving him into Eton for his first year, and a handful of other pivotal points in their lives that include James and his parents (all four of them), his grandmothers, and his aunts as well. It was all laid out for anyone who came into their home to see, and it excited Scorpius that soon he’d be able to add Lyra to the collection. 

 

“Are we ready?” Theo asked, looking towards the two teens and then at his husband. His father nervously adjusted his cufflinks, and Theo looked like he was going off for a picnic with a basket hanging from his forearm. When questioned about it, he'd brushed them off, saying something along the lines of it was no concern of theirs how he accessorized.  

 

His dad stepped forward without responding, tossing a handful of floo powder into the flames, causing the fire to flare emerald green. Taking hold of Scorpius, the two blondes stepped through first, instantly being transported to the hotel that Lyra and her mother were staying in.

 

Scorpius looked around the tiny hotel foyer, wondering for a moment why it seemed so, well, not run down precisely. It just wasn’t what he and his fathers typically stayed in.

 

“What is that smell?” Scorpius asked as they walked through the lobby, strangely filled with people sitting eating what appeared to be some overly moist egg concoction.

 

“That is the smell of continental breakfast,” Theo leaned over and whispered, his nose scrunched up in disgust as an elderly man tried to shove too much food in his mouth at once. “It’s utterly disgusting.”

 

“Why wouldn’t they just eat breakfast in their room after room service delivers it?” Scorpius asked, completely confused by this apparent collection of guests seated around various tables and lounge chairs to eat.

 

“You are obnoxiously rich,” James muttered, approaching the elevator and pressing the up arrow.

 

“What?” Scorpius asked, innocently looking at his fathers, who were both chuckling slightly at the teens’ interaction. However, as the door slid open, his dad’s body tensed up again, and it was only with the help of Theo’s hand guiding him that he got his dad inside. 

 

Theo was the one who reached out to firmly press the button for the seventh floor, and away they went. The smell of chlorine filled the small space, but it wasn’t enough to distract Scorpius from the fact that they were on their way to see his sister. 

 

His sister. He thought what an odd concept to think of, smiling to himself.

 

There were a few stops along the way, picking up workers dressed in plain grey polo shirts and navy slacks with cleaning carts and then getting off at the following floor. They continued the ride until finally, the number seven lit up, indicating they’d reached their destination.

 

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Scorpius could hear Theo whispering to his father, but he was too excited to wait for either of the adults. Bounding down the hall with James at his heels, Scorpius quickly found his way and followed the rooms until he stood before the number Lyra had given him.

 

Lifting his hand and knocking, Scorpius pounded on the door, too excited to contain himself even a little. When the door was thrown open, the grin on his face only grew. 

 

Lyra looked up at him, her silver eyes bright and excited, with her white hair swept to the side in a plait over her shoulder. She wore jean shorts, a tank top that showed off her midriff, and a pair of trainers, an outfit his grandmother would probably faint over if she saw her granddaughter dressed this way. The idea only made Scorpius' smile widen. He couldn't wait for Lyra to meet their grandmother, as she'd always wished for more grandchildren. The 'you could always adopt just one or two more' argument was frequent between the older witch and his father. 

 

“Welcome to London!” Scorpius nearly jumped out of his skin at his best friend’s shouting from behind him. “You look fit, very bonny.” 

 

“Uh…” Lyra trailed off, her eyes narrowing and her nose scrunched up as she looked at the unexpected visitor. Scorpius had purposefully forgotten to mention the addition to their outing for the day, with good reason. “Good to see you too, James.”

 

“Scorp, she knows my name!” James hissed into Scorpius’ ear as he tried to shove his best mate away from the doorway to get closer to Lyra. Despite his efforts, James was unsuccessful at moving Scorpius. However, before Scorpius could adequately rid himself of his obnoxious redheaded friend, Lyra’s mother appeared behind her daughter. She first looked at Scorpius and smiled, then at James, who caused her mouth to fall open.

 

“Oh, my stars, you look exactly like your father…” she trailed off, but whatever else she was going to say was cut off because, at that moment, his fathers had finally appeared. With the arrival of the other wizards, the physical change in Lyra’s mum was obvious. Her posture stiffened, much like his father’s had been all morning, and her lips were pulled tight as she looked between the older wizards.

 

“Theo, Draco, nice to see the both of you,” she greeted, though her tone was filled with as much warmth as the Arctic. 

 

“Hermione, lovely to see you,” Theo replied for the both of them, holding out the basket he’d been carrying with him and shoving it in her direction. “I hope you still like Prosecco; if not, I did bring a nice collection from the wine cellar along with our lunch.”

 

Everyone in the area turned to look at the brunette wizard grinning like a fool at Lyra’s mum. Brushing his chestnut curls out of his eyes, he forced his way through the overly crowded doorway and into the room. To everyone’s surprise, once Theo stood before Hermione, he put his hands on her shoulders, looking her over and sizing her up. A sad expression was on his face as he stared at the witch he’d known so long before, surprising everyone once again, pulling the witch into a tight embrace that was not returned.

 

“Theodore,” Scorpius could hear the older witch’s muffled voice through his cotton shirt, “what are you doing?”

 

Finally releasing the poor woman – who stumbled slightly, her brown curls a mess after Theo’s treatment and looked completely bewildered – Theo had a bright smile on his face again.

 

“We’re having a girls' day. No Pansy or Daphne this time, though I will say they are dying to see you. I can only hold them off for so long. I thought it best to start with the two of us, as we’re family now. Get reacquainted as the new husband and baby momma. I’ve already done this, well tried, with Astoria; I’m assuming that it’ll be exponentially more fun with you than it was with that cow.”

 

Scorpius laughed and tried to cover it with a cough at how Theo explained his plans as if everyone knew what was happening and agreed to proceed. 

 

“Theo, I don’t know…” Lyra’s mum trailed off as Theo pulled her further into the room. 

 

“Well, I do. Going to let Draco and the spawns plus Potter Jr. have their day, and we’ll have ours.” Scorpius could only hear Theo as they turned the corner into the room. “Honestly, Granger, what type of room is this? Where’s the sitting area, and why are there beds right here!”

 

“It’s called a standard room, you prat!” Scorpius heard Lyra’s mum scold. “Not everyone can afford to stay in a suite for two weeks!”

 

“Well, we will be rectifying this situation. The peasants converging and eating breakfast on every surface is one thing, but this will not do.”

 

“Should we do something?” Lyra asked, concern on her face clear as she looked past Scorpius and to their dad. “She might dismember him; I know that tone.”

 

Scorpius looked over his shoulder to his dad, who seemed utterly shocked that Lyra would be addressing him directly. Though when his shoulders relaxed, and he reached a hand out for Lyra, and she placed her much smaller one in his, Scorpius let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in anticipation for this moment.

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time; now come on, I hear you like Quidditch,” Draco said, pulling Lyra into the hall and shutting the door behind her. “We have a box for the Falcons and can watch their training sessions.”

 

“You…You have a box?” Lyra asked dumbfoundedly as she trailed next to their dad, not dropping his hand as she followed him down the hallway.

 

“Have a box? That’s a funny way of saying they bloody own the team,” James murmured behind the father-daughter. 

 

ooo

 

It had been a, well, magical day. As cliche as it sounded, it had been. Draco was, well, he had somehow known a lot about her, probably from her mother or Scorpius telling him, and had planned a whole day filled with activities she loved. 

 

They’d started watching the Falmouth Falcons training session, and then she’d been able to meet the players and coaches. After that, Draco took her to lunch in London, where they’d gotten street food near a muggle park. Scorpius had told her that the first time he’d seen it, he’d nearly cried from how good it was and that when he wasn’t away at school, it was their Saturday ritual, weather permitting. 

 

Then, in the afternoon, they’d spent most of the time exploring muggle London. Scorpius showed off some places he spent with his muggle friends, even pointing out Buckingham Palace, saying he was mates with someone in the royal family. 

 

So yes, the day had been very magical.   

 

“Here we are,” Draco said, looking up at the new accommodations her mother had sent her to return to. Looking up at the hotel, Lyra knew her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn’t help. They’d never stayed in a hotel so grand in her life, usually in places just a step above a motor inn. “Would you like us to walk you up to your room?” He asked.

 

“Er, no, it’s alright. I can find my way,” Lyra answered, looking over at her brother and James, who were both in a headlock by the other for whatever reason. “You might want to get them out of public before they injure themselves or someone else.”

 

Following her line of sight, Draco looked over his shoulder, muttering a curse as he pulled out his wand and shot a stinging hex at the teenage boys, who yelped and broke apart. With the boys now behaving, Draco turned back towards her, smiling down at his daughter. 

 

“Your mum said you are a bit of a potions prodigy,” he said as Scorpius arrived, throwing an arm over her shoulders and James following close behind him. “Well, if you'd like, maybe we could go to my potions lab tomorrow? Only if you’re interested, that is.”

 

“Oh, yes, please!” Lyra exclaimed, leaning quickly into her brother’s side, enjoying his nearness. 

 

“Alright then,” Draco replied, ruffling his son’s hair, causing Scorpius to release her as he tried to flatten out the mess his father had just caused. “I’ll see you tomorrow around nine, then?”

 

“Sounds good,” Lyra smiled at Draco, unsure how to leave him. Deciding to go for a more neutral approach, she nodded politely in his direction before turning towards her brother and wrapping him in a hug. When she released Scorpius, she found James standing next to him with his arms open, waiting for an embrace of his own. The smile on her face dropped slightly as she raised a brow in his direction and ignored the irritating redhead.

 

Backing away, Lyra turned and began her trek towards the elevator, waving over her shoulder towards the small group as she went. The ride-up was smoothed, powered by magic instead of electricity, and much faster than a standard elevator. When she reached the top floor where her new suite was located, Lyra walked through the hall, enjoying the magical portraits that smiled warmly in her direction while waving at each of them. 

 

Not needing a key since the reservation had her name and picture for entry, she only tapped the knob with her wand before being admitted to the room. Stepping inside, her jaw dropped open at the sheer size of the sitting room she was standing in. It was nearly as large as the entire downstairs of the cottage she lived in back home in France. 

 

Quietly slipping her shoes off, Lyra moved about in shock as she tried to take in the room. Gold was woven into everything from the curtains to the couch, and magic thrummed through the room, making her feel at ease as she admired the floral arrangements and the paintings of mermaids swimming through clear waters waving in her direction.

 

Moving to get closer to one golden blonde mermaid, Lyra found herself near a closed door and could hear voices floating through it. Not wanting to be rude, Lyra meant to announce her arrival, but what she heard had her pause.

 

“That’s why I ended things in sixth year. Thoros, he was sitting in Azkaban, and he told me that if I wasn’t finished, he’d imperious me and force me to kill you myself. You have to understand just as I had to break things off with you, Draco found himself in the same position. Draco’s fear of what might happen to you drove his decisions. It isn’t perfect, but at birth, both of us had blood magic done on us so that we couldn’t share family secrets without the head of our house’s permission. Because of that, despite being an Auror himself, he couldn’t take the threats to the DMLE.”

 

Lyra’s hands shot up to her mouth as she muffled the gasp. Her mother’s life had been threatened. By these pureblood wankers? By both Draco and Theo’s fathers?

 

“What would have happened if I’d told him about Lyra? Lucius would have killed us both.” Her mother’s reply came, her voice soft and shaking as if she was crying. “He was able to get Greyback into my bedroom; it wouldn’t have been difficult for him to off me and an infant.”

 

Lyra’s heart rate began to rise as more pieces fell into place. There really had been a danger, maybe not from Draco directly, but from his family. 

 

“I don’t know what would have happened. In retrospect, maybe you did the best thing and saved both of you. Maybe you should have allowed Draco to hide you or at least let him know you were alive. He mourned you for years, not that you knew that, but it’s what happened. We can sit here and speculate for hours what might have happened, but at the end of the day, you both made choices that hurt the other, and we don’t know what would have been the outcome had you not gone down these paths.”

 

“I thought he was going back to his father. Got tired of being poor.” Her mother was crying in earnest now, and Lyra could feel her heart breaking for what she’d been through. All these years, she was holding it all in alone. No wonder she’d built that brick wall and never let anyone in.

 

“Never, Granger. You’re worth more than all the gold in the world.” Theo reassured her mother, and she could hear the sobs increasing through the door. 

 

Curiosity got the better of her, and while Lyra knew that she shouldn’t, she couldn’t stop herself as she opened the door to look inside the private moment shared between old friends. In a heap of limbs was her mother, Theo’s shirt clutched in her fists as she shed all the tears that she’d been holding back for so long. The weight of what she’d carried and finally being able to give some of that to someone who had lived it with her.

 

“We’ve all had a chance to heal, but you haven’t been able to do any of that yet, have you?” Theo asked, cupping her mother’s jaw and tilting her face back so he could look her in the eye. Lyra’s stomach rolled, her thoughts going through what clues she might have missed from her mother all these years. Lyra had been blind to the emotional turmoil and the heartache that her mum had carried with her every day.  

 

Hermione had never dated, at least not that Lyra was aware of. She’d never grown close with anyone aside from Aunt Gabby, and from Gabby’s recount to Lyra, the only reason that had happened was because Gabby had forced herself into their lives. Even with her grandparents years later, her mum still didn’t seem comfortable around them when she’d take Lyra to drop her off for her monthly visit every summer break.

 

“No, I haven’t,” Hermione’s answer came at just barely a whisper. 

 

“I think it’s about time you let us take care of you; there’s no more need to run or hide from us.”

Notes:

After the absolute shit show that was the comment and review section that was the last chapter...
Both Hermione and Draco made choices that affected the other and they are flawed characters. This is a Lyra and Scorpius POV story. We aren't going to see the adult inner workings. The first few chapters for set up was all that will be from Hermione's POV, the rest is being pieced together from the perspective of their teenage children.
Furthermore, this is a WIP. That means that the story is still developing, characters are still developing and if that's not something you want to sit with then subscribe and hold off on reading until its complete, that's the best advice I can give.

Reminder, if you can't say something nice maybe don't say anything at all. After the last chapter it took a lot to get me back into even wanting to type up another chapter and it was only by the encouragement and kind words that reminded me to write my story the way I envisioned it.

Anyway, here's some housekeeping.

This and my other WIP Its Complicated are the two stories that I'm putting my most effort into finishing at the moment, but it will be slow going. I am in graduate school, therefore that will be taking up the large majority of my time and mental energy until the semester is over (first week of December).
To keep myself from going crazy with I will still chip away at chapters over the next 16 weeks, but again, it will be slow going.

For updates on what I'm working on or previews for chapters you can find me on social media. Facebook, Sarah Fraser's Forest and Dreomione Appreciation and then on X (formerly twitter) @sarahfhickman

Chapter 10: now that I’ve found you, I am very unwilling to give you up

Draco allowed Lyra to pick his brain and explore his potions lab the day following the whole family outing while Scorpius and Theo went to see a movie with James. Draco and Lyra wanted more time to get to know each other, and their mutual love for potions had been precisely the excuse they'd needed. They hadn’t spoken about anything besides potions, which allowed Lyra to ignore what she’d overheard her mother and Theo talking about the previous day.

 

Scorpius had privately told Lyra that James spent much time with their family because his father was a playboy with a new flavor of the week, and his mother and her spouses were constantly traveling. His mother and stepfather for their Quidditch careers, and his stepmother to chase down any leads on unheard-of creatures. On the rare occasions the triad wasn't busy with work, they often traveled for leisure, leaving James with his father, who would inevitably dump James off on the Malfoy's doorstep. 

 

However, Lyra didn't care much about James or his tragic home life, dismal as it may be. This story is about her discovering and building a relationship with her father, brother, and stepfather (though that didn't seem a very fitting term for Theo and his role in the family).

 

On her third day in England, Lyra found herself with Draco and Theo off to the countryside to watch Scorpius play polo (whatever that was) with some of his muggle friends. Lyra was sitting in the backseat of a stylish sports car she knew her grandfather would have envied if he saw it, staring out the window and watching the scenery, quickly becoming rather bored by being forced to drive the whole way there. What was the point in being magical if they wouldn't use it for trivial matters such as traveling? 

 

Scorpius had gone ahead of them, having been picked up by his friends on the way to whatever pitch he’d be playing at. Well, she assumed it was at a pitch. Lyra had no idea what her brother was supposed to do for this polo game. She could only think of the Marco Polo game she'd played in a swimming pool with her mother, Vivi, and Aunt Gabby while they closed their eyes and searched for each other. She doubted that's what she'd been told to dress in her best Sunday wear to watch, amusing as that might have been.

 

Theo had attempted to describe the rules to her, but it seemed like he understood sports as well as she understood the theory of time that he’d tried explaining to her last night. It was all utterly baffling, and Lyra felt like her eyes were crossing from trying to keep up with the eccentric brunette wizard. 

 

“The most important part is that you don’t use magic. We’re going to be around muggles,” Theo said, turning in his seat, his blue eyes piercing her. 

 

“Please, my grandparents are muggles, and I spend part of every year with them. I’m very aware of how to act around muggles, thank you very much,” Lyra sniped, looking out the window as they raced down a road and into the countryside. 

 

The trio's silence was comfortable, and Lyra saw the sights flashing past them. It was all very green, with little cottage homes scattered about and farms popping up occasionally. It was much different than the seaside home she’d grown up in, but she still found it somewhat comforting, even though it was nothing she was used to.

 

“Er, what’s your…uh, I guess that’s to say…” Draco trailed off after a while, tugging awkwardly at his collar. 

 

“What’s my mother doing today?” Lyra supplied for him. The poor bloke was about as subtle as Jourdain Guillaume was with his beater’s bat, which was not at all.

 

In the front seat, Theo’s booming laugh echoed in the small space, then leaned over and kissed Draco’s now red face. 

 

“She has your number, Drake. Smart like her mother,” Theo turned and winked at her, which made Lyra roll her eyes.

 

“She’s out spending the day with Mr. Potter. I didn’t ask what their plans consisted of, though,” Lyra answered instead of acknowledging what Theo had said. “Is it much further?”

 

“Nearly there,” Draco replied, turning off the main highway. “Maybe twenty minutes or less.”

 

Lyra chose not to reply, instead returning her attention to the landscape. There were sheep in a short fenced pen, and Lyra let her mind empty as she prepared herself for whatever was to come. 

 

ooo

 

Lyra couldn’t believe her eyes as she stood between Draco and Theo, looking at teens riding around on horses, hitting a ball with a stick. 

 

“This is polo?” She asked, going up on her toes to try to see past some of the most obnoxious hats the women were wearing around her. Theo, of course, had donned a hat of his own. A turquoise screen was over his face, and he had a large white peacock feather arrangement sticking up in the back. Theo had brought her a matching one that was the same pale yellow as her sundress and had been utterly perturbed when she’d declined to wear it.

 

The more she got to know him, the more Lyra questioned how her mother had dated him, even as a teenager. 

 

“This is polo,” Draco replied, his hands shoved in his pockets. 

 

He was a complete contrast to his husband– whose turquoise blazer was embroidered with peacock feathers. Draco, however, was wearing a black-on-black suit in the scorching heat. Lyra bet that there were most likely cooling charms embedded in the material to keep him from sweating, but then she also had to wonder if aristocrats could sweat. Indeed, they were immune to such trivial and mortal things.

 

“Look at our boy go!” Theo cheered beside her, jumping up and down as Scorpius swung his stick and hit the ball. 

 

He was an excellent rider, Lyra observed. He wove through the other horses and seemed to be able to control his own with little effort. She couldn’t see his face with the helmet on his head, but she could tell from his body language that he was having a great time.

 

Lyra turned her attention towards Draco to ask a question about the match when a woman with pale skin, white hair, and pale blue eyes made her stop. The older woman was wearing a delicate dress that matched her eyes perfectly; she was draped in pearls, and Lyra could tell that she was a well-to-do woman, but it wasn’t her looks but her behaviour that Lyra found startling. 

 

She was frozen, her eyes wide, and her mouth was slightly hanging open as she took in Lyra’s appearance. Lyra had, admittedly, not dressed for the occasion and was wearing a simple yellow sundress and a wide-brim sun hat that Theo had shoved one of his many peacock feathers onto. Her hair hung over her shoulders in two simple plaits, but she didn’t think she looked disgraceful. 

 

Draco glanced down at her and then quickly followed her line of sight. His body stiffened, and his eyes widened momentarily before appearing composed again.

 

“Mother.” 

 

Lyra turned her attention to her father, her mouth dropping open before looking back at the woman who seemed to have come to her senses and was quickly approaching them. Mother ? That meant, well, there was only one thing that it could mean, and Lyra was not prepared for the reality of meeting her paternal grandmother while standing in the sweltering heat with her hair frizzing around her head and her dress easily a good three inches shorter than her mother would have approved. 

 

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” Draco greeted, sounding stiff. Lifting her hand to his mouth, he kissed the back of her hand. “I didn’t know Scorpius had invited you.”

 

“You know I never miss one of his events,” the woman – Draco’s mother – said, her eyes still on Lyra. “Who might your guest be? I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure, Narcissa Malfoy,” the woman held out her hand towards Lyra, but being the fool Lyra was, she didn’t know what to do and dropped into the low curtsy that had beaten into her during her etiquette lessons at school.

 

“Lady Malfoy,” Lyra said, her eyes glued to the beautiful silver heels that Narcissa wore. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

 

The sun hat hadn’t been secured to her head in any way and was now lying on the ground, and Lyra could hear Theo chuckling behind her, but she couldn’t think of that now. Her only thoughts were that she’d overheard Theo and her mother discussing in what they thought was a private moment. This woman standing in front of her had been married to a man who had sought to have her mother killed just because she’d had a romance with Draco. A romance that resulted in one Lyra Madeline Granger.  

 

She gulped, her nerves just about fried in an instant. A cold sweat that had nothing to do with the heat covered her body as the silence hung heavy over their small group. 

 

How stupid had she been? Reckless even, coming to England. Her mother had been right; they should have stayed in France where they were safe and no one could stumble upon them. She'd lived in blissful ignorance her entire life, not knowing that there were people out in the world who would seek to cause her harm just because of who her parents were. And now, standing around watching her brother play some game on the back of a horse, Lyra was facing that reality she'd been so happy to ignore the last couple of days.

 

An elegant pale hand with beautiful rings and a thin jeweled bracelet reached out toward her, and Lyra closed her eyes when she felt the woman’s fingertips touch her chin and raise her face. Keeping her eyes shut, Lyra felt foolish, but if she didn’t look at her, maybe it wouldn’t be real. 

 

“Look at me, child,” the woman’s voice was low but commanding. Lyra felt as if she had no other option but to obey. Her eyes fluttered open, and even though she had known it was actually about to happen, Lyra was still startled to find herself face-to-face with her paternal grandmother. 

 

She was stunning. And she was powerful.

 

“What is your name?” 

 

“Lyra Granger,” Lyra’s voice was just above a whisper, but the sparkle in the woman’s eyes told her she’d been heard.

 

“And how old are you, Miss Granger?” She asked, and Lyra could feel the tears pricking at her eyes.

 

“I’ve just turned fifteen on the twenty-second of July.”

 

“Where do you live? You don’t sound like you’ve been raised here in England.”

 

“France, mam. I live there with my mum. I also spend much of my breaks from Beauxbatons in Australia with my maternal grandparents.” 

 

“And your father’s family?” The woman asked though it was clear she knew the answer as well as Lyra did.

 

“I’ve never known him, though that’s changing these few weeks before school begins,” Lyra confessed, somehow knowing her grandmother was no threat to her safety. She could feel Narcissa’s magic reaching out and brushing over her own in such a gentle and warm touch that it reminded her of how her magical core reacted to her mother. 

 

It was something that Lyra couldn’t explain, but in her soul, she knew that no harm would ever come to her while in the presence of Lady Narcissa Malfoy.

 

“You look remarkably like I did when I was a girl,” Narcissa said, emotion showing on her face that Lyra had a feeling wasn’t typical of this regal woman. “Oh, Draco, she’s beautiful.”

 

ooo

 

After the scrimmage between Eton and Harrow, which Scorpius probably played the best match of his life, he’d been shocked to find his Grandmother holding Lyra’s hand and tears in her eyes when he’d finally made his way to his family. 

 

In all of his life, he’d never seen his grandmother cry. 

 

“Oh, my darling boy,” Grandmother said, smiling in his direction, throwing Scorpius off even more. Though his grandmother doted on him and spoiled him rotten, she’d never been the most affectionate of women. “You played wonderfully. I’m so proud of you.”

 

“It was just a scrimmage match, Grandmother,” Scorpius replied, his eyes drifting to Lyra, who was attracting the attention of his teammates and their opposition. Though, it seemed she was utterly oblivious to the male attention she was getting. That or she was very good at pretending she didn’t notice them. “Did you enjoy watching your first-ever polo match?”

 

“I didn’t know what was happening, but you looked like you were an expert. I’ll have to drag you to one of my matches once the term starts,” she answered, lighting up as she spoke. 

 

“I bet you are an absolute terror on a broom,” Scorpius laughed, picturing the tiny witch speeding around in the air. “Grandmother, will you be joining us this afternoon for lunch?” Scorpius asked politely and extended the invitation that he knew she would accept.

 

“Scorpius, I can assure you there is no other place I’d rather be.”

 

A short time later, Scorpius was stepping into the parlour where the house elves had already set up tea trays and cucumber sandwiches for them to snack on before lunch was to be underway. Always ravenous after a match, Scorpius piled his plate high with a snack and sat in his usual armchair near a television. 

 

He’d already shoved three sandwiches in his mouth before he noticed that Lyra was still standing, unsure of what she should do. Scorpius swallowed and washed down his food, drinking his cup of tea, readying himself to get up to tend to his sister when his father beat him to it.

 

A shy smile up at their father, and Lyra had a plate and a cup of tea, slowly making her way over to the settee their grandmother was perched on. Narcissa Malfoy, the ultimate picture of grace, was drinking her tea and holding the saucer under it as a proper lady always should. 

 

The conversation was dull, and hardly anything of interest to Scorpius. However, he still pretended to listen to the chatter of the adults about something happening with someone they all knew. Some scandal that wasn’t probably actually a scandal, and then when lunch was announced and they were making their way into the dining hall, Theo was the one who, per his usual style, pointed out the proverbial elephant in the room. 

 

“Cissa, what does it feel like to have a granddaughter? A bit of a shock, I’d expect.” Scorpius glanced at his stepfather, wondering how he’d survived his childhood with that mouth of his. He was always talking his way into trouble before somehow talking his way out and sometimes even leaving someone else as the victim of his misdoings. He was indeed a marvel. 

 

The expression on his grandmother’s face tightened, but only for a moment before it relaxed into the mask she always wore.

 

“When Scorpius invited me to his match this morning, I was shocked that he’d neglected to inform me that someone else would be present.” 

 

It appeared that Theo had managed to put Scorpius in harm's way this time. 

 

“It didn’t cross my mind. Also, how was I supposed to put that in a letter?” Scorpius tried to explain, but it wasn’t his place to tell her that she had a granddaughter, now was it? That should have been on his father.

 

“Nonetheless, what’s past has passed. I hope you won’t be so short-sighted in the future, my love,” Scorpius could feel his cheeks flush but sat down and began filling his plate without hesitation. 

 

“Tell me dear, how is your mother? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen her,” Grandmother continued, cutting into her salad, glancing in Lyra’s direction as she spoke.

 

“She’s doing well. She’s the head curse breaker for the French Ministry of Magic.” Lyra answered, lifting the fork filled with pasta to her mouth and taking a bite.

 

“And she let you travel to England by yourself?” Grandmother asked, her brow raised curiously. 

 

“No, she’s come back to England with me. She’s spending the day catching up with old friends while I’m with Draco, Theo, and Scorpius.” Lyra answered, but it wasn’t what Grandmother was expecting her to say. 

 

Startling everyone at the table, she dropped the cutlery she’d been holding. Her pleasant mask dropped, and her full attention was turned onto Lyra. Suddenly, Grandmother reached out and took hold of Lyra's arm. 

 

“She’s not out in the wizarding world, is she?” Grandmother asked, her panic evident in the tone of voice. 

 

“No…” Lyra trailed off, looking to Father and Theo for help, but both were as confused as she was. “She said they’re staying in the muggle world because she doesn’t want the publicity following her.” 

 

“Both of you must avoid the wizarding world at all costs. With Draco and Theo, well, neither of them will venture into it since Scorpius is a squib, so you are safe.”

 

“Mother –”

 

“Hush, Draco, you must understand the danger that Lyra and Hermione are both in because of your father.” Grandmother snipped, surprising everyone at the table. 

 

“Father has been dead for years; I hardly doubt there’s much of a threat any longer,” his father stated, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing up slightly.

 

“You don’t understand, Draco. I don't think you understood the lengths your father would go to to keep his bloodline pure. I wasn’t aware of what he’d done until after you’d already married Astoria, but he would have done more so that even in death, he could still have a semblance of control over your life.”

 

“I don’t understand…” Lyra said, looking over at Scorpius, but truthfully, he was just as confused as she was. 

 

“After my husband’s death, I found things in his private study that were truly chilling. These are things that I will not go into detail about since you are children. However, I implore you that you do not, neither you nor your mother, venture into the wizarding world while you are here on your visit. If your mother has been able to stay so well hidden in France all these years, you’ll have to stay there and not move back to England.” 

 

Scorpius wasn’t an idiot, not by a long shot, but even this cryptic message that had just been delivered was far over his head. 

 

“Am I in danger?” Lyra asked, her voice low and her hands trembling slightly. “Do I need to leave?”

 

“No, just, I implore you to heed my warnings.” Grandmother reiterated before reaching out a hand and grasping Lyra’s shaking one once again. “I’ll admit, now that I’ve found you, I am very unwilling to give you up so soon. I can be a bit selfish when it comes to my grandchildren.”

 

Not releasing Lyra, Grandmother picked up her fork and stabbed a grape from the fruit bowl before her. While Scorpius found the behaviour odd, there wasn’t much he could comment on. He knew that the marriage vows she’d been forced to make to his paternal grandfather kept her bound to Lucius Malfoy and unable to disclose certain information even after his grandfather’s death. 

 

It did leave the question, though, what was Lucius Malfoy planning for his half-blood granddaughter and her mother from beyond the grave?

Notes:

Hey, I'm back and at it!

My semester ended at the start of December, and I will throw in a not-so-humble brag, but it was a clean sweep of all As.

Anyway, onto my writing news. I wrapped up It's Complicated, so if you want a completed Dreomione fic with a toxic Theo, that's one you'll want to check out. I've also started working on a Rose/Draco (Rose Dragon) fic with emotionalsupporthufflepuff that is a muggle AU with Draco being a royal, professor, and having the title of Dr all wrapped into one. Also, Time Keepers is coming along nicely and is over 100k words and counting. CeilidhChaos and I are working on chapter 10 at the moment, and ah my soul sings with the angst that it brings.
Future things are coming from me; I'm sorting out my Dreomione 2024 Fest pieces right now. Per usual, you'll be finding a V relationship; however, this time with Draco as the apex instead of Hermione (yes, let out the oooh and has). There is also going to be a little Quidditch League that will be written with emotionalsupporthufflepuff and then also a werewolf short that's going to be written with CeilidhChaos.

As for this fic (since you're reading this update and obviously following it, I do feel obligated to give some information and future plans on it), I'm hopeful that I can wrap it up in the range of 15-20 chapters. Forewarning for an update schedule is that my spring semester starts on January 16th, and that will greatly impact my writing abilities. I'm going to be throwing everything I have into trying to wrap this one up. However, I'm not going to make promises that I cannot keep.

Chapter 11: he was looking forward to seeing the spitfire side of Hermione Granger once again

Lyra had left dinner with Narcissa so quickly that Theo had nearly had to race after her to get to Hermione. The girl was a whirlwind and unstoppable, all characteristics that she shared with her mother. 

 

“What’s the plan?” Theo asked Lyra, shoving his hands in his pocket to try to seem more casual than he felt. Narcissa’s threat that Lucius haunts them from the tomb he’d been tossed into in the Malfoy crypt was genuine, but Theo knew from experience with Hermione that it would be too easy to spook her if they came in blazing. 

 

The worst case would be Hermione packing Lyra up and disappearing into the great unknown again. 

 

Despite the desperate attempts to find her, she’d already proven that with a threat, Hermione could hide herself away from the Wizarding World. Draco and Potter had called in every favor owed to them, and Hermione still managed to stay under the radar. 

 

“Well, first, to get my mother to safety, duh.” He looked over at the girl. Lyra had her wild curls thrown up in a messy bun, and her muggle outfit nearly caused Draco to faint. The shorts and sandals showed off her pale skin despite how much time she spent in the sun—a Malfoy trait through and through.

 

“Duh, but after that?” Theo asked, jogging across the busy street to the hotel entrance where they’d moved Hermione and Lyra after finding out where the girls were staying. 

 

“I don’t know, I’m not the adult or the auror or a curse breaker. Don’t one of you have an idea?” Lyra snapped, fidgeting as she strolled through the foyer, heading straight for the elevator. “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? I’m a child, can’t even apparate by myself, don’t know what you all think I’d be able to do that you can’t do better.”

 

Theo smirked, but it didn’t meet his eyes as he scanned the crowd. It felt more ominous now that he knew there was a threat against Hermione and Lyra. 

 

“I’m neither a curse breaker nor an auror. I work in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable.”

 

“So, at the minimum, you have a mastery in charms,” Lyra replied, rolling her eyes. “You probably even have a dual mastery depending on what field you’re studying, maybe defense or potions, so it's still more knowledgeable and useful than I am only going into my fifth year.”

 

“I suppose you’re right,” Theo commented, raising a brow. He shouldn’t be surprised; the girl was Hermione’s daughter, but still, she’d nailed it on the head. For working in the time department, he had masteries in charms, defense, and potions and was now working on a fourth in transfiguration. The qualifications for working in the DOM weren’t well known, but unsurprisingly, Hermione’s kid knew. “So, I think the best case is we move you two out of the hotel and into the townhouse with us. The wards are strong, and no one could get you there.”

 

“Yeah, I’m just not sure how well she’ll take the news,” Lyra said, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts as they stepped onto the elevator. 

 

She was so much like her mother, but Theo could see that the piece of Draco was also the Lyra. Her unwavering loyalty wasn’t purely a Hermione trait, and the quiet way, not outright in-your-face way, that she loved and showed affection was Draco. 

 

“I’d assume not well,” Theo replied, keeping his tone casual and light to keep Lyra at ease. He studied her without her noticing. She was fascinating; he loved Scorpius, undoubtedly, but here was a girl made up of two people he’d cared so much for, and it pulled at something in his heart, knowing that their love had bore someone so beautiful.

 

“And you don’t mind?”

 

“Sorry?” Theo scrunched his brows, wondering if he’d missed her saying something.

 

“You know, my mum, staying with you since she…well…slept with your husband…” Lyra’s face was turning the most adorable shade of pink as she gestured at herself as proof of Draco and Hermione's affair. 

 

It was adorable, and Theo did nothing to try and hide his smile or his laugh. There was no point in telling Lyra that he had been the one to take her mother’s virginity all those years ago.

 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be awkward in the slightest,” Theo said instead, putting his hand on her back as he ushered her out of the lift and down the hall toward their room. 

 

The hair on his arms pricked as they neared, though, his sense hackling and telling him something was wrong. His wand was ready, and Theo didn’t hesitate to pull Lyra behind him as he slowed and crept down the corridor. 

 

It was too quiet, and not only from the wards. There was a tremendous amount of magic hanging in the air, reminiscent of dark magic that he’d grown to know intimately from his childhood with a father obsessed with the dark arts and experimenting.

 

“Theo–”

 

“Stay behind me,” Theo interrupted, not wanting anyone to get a jump on their location if someone was hiding. A few spells told Theo something had happened while they were alone in the corridor. 

 

Quickening his steps with the reassurance that the danger wasn’t on top of them, Theo moved, still holding Lyra with him toward the room. He didn’t have to see the numbers on the doors clearly to know that Hermione and Lyra’s door was hanging off its hinges. 

 

Cursing under his breath, Theo rushed forward, kicking the ruined wood out of his way as he stepped into the space. His shield came up just in time to protect himself and Lyra from a spell shot from the corner, followed by a yelp of surprise when their faces lit up in the entryway.

 

“Lyra!” Hermione yelled, pulling the disillusionment from herself and running toward her daughter. Theo didn’t take his eyes off her, watching her movements, searching for any injury she might have sustained, but Hermione appeared physically okay. 

 

“Are you alright?” Hermione had Lyra’s face cupped in her hands, turning her head to either side. 

 

“What the fuck happened!?” Lyra said, pushing away from her mother and looking around the room that had been a safe place for them. 

 

Someone had ruined everything. The couches, the television, the deck, and the artwork had been ripped and torn to shreds. 

 

“Mum?” Lyra asked, still holding Hermione’s forearms. 

 

“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, looking around, “I’d only just returned just before the two of you. I was out with Harry all day.”

 

Theo held his wand, venturing further into the rooms. The bedrooms were just as overturned as the sitting room had been. All their clothing and any personal effects they’d brought with them were destroyed by someone unknown. It was a targeted attack meant to drive fear into Hermione and Lyra, but the purpose of the attack was still unknown.

 

“We’ll need to contact the auror department,” Theo said, reemerging to find Hermione and Lyra quietly talking with each other. “They’ll need to bring in a team to investigate and look for clues. It might have been a random attack gone wrong; they’ll want to speak with the hotel for any security footage.”

 

Theo didn’t wait for a response from Hermione and summoned his patronus to send out an alert to the DMLE. Standing in the room, Theo noticed that Lyra was unusually quiet, looking around her private space, which had been safe but had now been torn to shreds. 

 

His heart went out to her, having that security and sense of peace ripped away so quickly, especially just as she was getting to know half of her family and rebuilding the trust that had been broken between her and her mother. Theo could empathize with the emotional upheave she must have been feeling.

 

“I’ll call Harry to see if he has space for us to stay for a few days.” Theo’s head snapped up in Hermione’s direction, and he shook his head. “Well, that’s not up to you where we go until we return home,” she snapped. He might have even chuckled at her if Theo hadn’t been so concerned for their safety. 

 

“Potter lives in a two-bedroom flat, and I can assure you that with his social life, you don’t want to be bunking on his couch for the next few days.” 

 

Lyra’s eyes widened, and she looked at her mother; her innocence was precious. 

 

“You can stay with us until your portkey is ready to go home. There is no need to rush off, and the DMLE will want you around the country if they have any other questions they need answered.” 

 

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Theo held up a hand to silence her, his eyes drifting to where Lyra stood. Though she put up a good front, Theo could tell that the mess they stood in, her things destroyed, had shaken her to her core. 

 

“We can talk more tonight,” Theo promised her, turning away as he heard the sound of the approaching DMLE agents. 

 

“Rest assured, we will,” Hermione promised, and it took everything Theo had not to smirk. For one, he was looking forward to seeing the spitfire side of Hermione Granger once again.

 

ooo

 

Lyra sat cross-legged on Scorpius’ bed while she listened to her mother argue through the floo with the investigator about the break-in of their hotel room. Something about Hermione returning from the dead made the DMLE unwilling to allow them to return home immediately, even though Lyra was due to begin her fifth year in another week. 

 

“So, transfer to Hogwarts, simple. You can be in my house and watch me play Quidditch,” James said from where he was lying on Scorp’s floor, with a gaming controller in his hand and a headset, yelling at whoever he was remotely playing with.

 

Even though her mother was a Muggleborn, Lyra had never found video gaming activities remotely entertaining. Her Aunt Gabby had attempted to purchase one once when Lyra had turned eight, and it still sat in their house collecting dust, never being touched again after the day it was initially set up. 

 

“And suffer from a subpar education? I’ll pass, but thanks,” Lyra replied, smirking at the redhead and glaring up at her. In his distraction, the little character he was controlling on the screen splattered with a grotesque sound, and Lyra couldn’t help but scrunch her nose in disgust. 

 

“Fuck!” James yelled, turning his attention. “You’re a fuck! I got distracted. Go again, yeah?”

 

“I don’t expect that they’d be able to keep you from returning to school,” Scorpius said, throwing a pillow at his friend and rubbing a hand through his hair. His blonde hair stuck up in a different direction from the treatment, but unlike when James did it, the hair eventually fell back into a stylish look, as if he’d purposefully done it that way.

 

“Well,” Lyra gestured toward the cracked doorway where they could still hear her mother ranting, “it sounds like it might be something they’re discussing.”

 

“Even if you went back to Beauxbatons, it’s not as if they won’t know how to find you,” Scorpius replied, standing from his bed and stretching his arms over his head. His shirt lifted slightly, showing off a bit of skin. “Oiy, get off the game and play some football. It’s getting stuffy in here, and you’ve eaten all the crisps, and Theo will probably have my head if he finds any more of your crumbs in the rug.”

 

Lyra watched in slight horror as the two boys began tumbling about, attempting to get each other in a headlock that ended up with Scorpius on the top, tugging at James’s ear. 

 

Once they had settled, the trio slipped from Scorp’s room and down the front stairs to the door. In the sitting room, Lyra saw her mother crouched in front of the fireplace, arguing with whatever higher-up she knew in the department who had denied changing their portkey to returning them home this evening.

 

Reluctantly as she’d been, Lyra was excited about staying in the townhouse with Draco, Theo, and Scorpius. Up until Draco’s mother had told her about her psychotic paternal grandfather having some death wish for her. Then, their hotel room was ransacked, and Lyra had been enjoying getting to know her father and brother. 

 

Scorpius had his phone in his hand and sent a text message to someone, and out they went. Lyra could feel the wards shifting over her as they left, and from James's reaction, it was apparent that he, too, thought it, but Scorpius didn’t even flinch. His eyes trained on his phone, and he typed another message, making it seem that he was either accustomed to it or didn’t feel the magic. 

 

“What’s it like, being a squib?” Lyra asked, and nearly instantly, she regretted the question. 

 

“Uh, I don’t know. What’s it like being a girl?” Scorpius asked, his mouth turned down and the tips of his ears pink in embarrassment. “I don’t know what it would be like to be a wizard, just as you don’t know what it would be like to be a man.”

 

“Well,” Lyra gnawed at her lip, wishing she’d phrased her question differently. “I know that I have to fight harder in school to join the Quidditch team, and my mum had to argue with her department head to get a raise equal to that of her male colleagues when she deserved more because she’s the best curse breaker the ministry has and there’s data to prove it. Instead, she was only given half of the raise he was and still was only to get a partial increase above that.”

 

James had gone quiet, his eyes darting between the two. Of the three of them, he would know the least about the prejudices that the two Malfoy children faced daily. James was the privileged wizard, son of the Chosen One; he was the Wizarding World’s darling. Scorpius had been born into a magical family with no magic of his own, and Lyra, because of her gender, was always working harder to prove that she was as capable as her male counterparts. 

 

They continued walking, passing an ice cream truck and handing out shakes and cones to younger children. Each child had a mother trying to keep them from becoming a mess. It was hot out, but Lyra didn’t mind the sun warming her cheeks; if anything, it felt heavenly.

 

“When I was younger before we didn’t know my magic wasn’t going to manifest, I was treasured by my mother and my grandparents. When I turned eight, and they confirmed that I was a squib, I guess all I remember is feeling like I was finally being seen. The push to ride a broom that wouldn’t work unless my father used his magic to hold it up wasn’t there anymore. My grandfathers disowned me and tried to blast me from their lines, but my father wouldn’t allow it, and neither would my grandmothers.

 

“I don’t feel like I’m less by any means, but I’ve had to fight for my mother’s attention just to be turned away and discarded like I mean nothing. The circles I’d been raised in disappeared as none of my father’s friends wanted to risk their children losing their magic by being near me.”

 

Lyra couldn’t take her eyes off her brother, feeling like her heart was breaking in two, wishing she could heal all these broken pieces inside him. She’d known that his biological mother was garbage, but at the same time, she’d foolishly hoped that she could care even slightly for her son, who had done nothing to deserve the way she treated him. 

 

“So, that’s to say, being around my dad and Theo isn’t weird because they do everything in their power to make my life as normal as possible. My Aunt Daphne and Pansy love me, but they don’t understand why I don't want to go out in the magical world. I’m a Malfoy with no magic. My family is so well known that a spotlight shines on me whenever we step foot in Diagon. I am the freak show, and even though I pretend not to notice people watching me for a moment too long or when mothers cross the street to walk on the opposite side as me, I do.”

 

They’d reached Hyde Park at some point, Scorpius still walking with a football tucked under his arm, heading for the wide-open grass to kick the ball around with James and Lyra. There was a group of children flying kites where there were no trees, and a couple snuggled up near a pond on a blanket, feeding each other strawberries. 

 

No one gave the trio of teens a second glance; they were just another group coming to enjoy the park.

 

“So,” Scorpius said, tossing the ball on the ground and kicking it to where James was running ahead of them. “If I were to describe what it is like to be a squib, I would say it’s knowing that you were born into the wrong world and no matter what you do or how you act, it’ll never be enough.”

Notes:

Hello! Thanks for following along and I hope you enjoy this update!

WITS news, as you noticed in this chapter, we got a Theo POV. Well, what's happening you might be asking? Well, here's the short of it, first this is a Dreomione story and so I want to show their relationship beyond the kids POV. Second, I like spicy time, and so let's expand the story. Also while I was finishing up the outline I realized I wanted to see Draco, Theo, and Hermione's POV in a few chapters.

That's it. This story had an outline for 25 chapters, yay. Love that for me and you.

Then just a few little house keeping pieces, I am officially on my summer break until........... May 15th. So, 9 days. Is what it is. In those 9 days, I'm going to try and get as much WITS written as possible and potentially finish it up (fingers crossed), however, don't be cross if that doesn't happen.

Anyway, what are your thoughts on this chapter? Let me know!

Chapter 12: Hermione is having a girls' day, and Pansy has probably raided the wine fridge

Summary:

NSFW chapter, you've been warned

“Then what are my options? I do have a job and responsibilities.” Hermione snapped, her nostrils flaring as she watched Nelson St. John, the head of the DMLE, shift the paperwork on his desk and let out a heavy sigh. 

 

“Ms. Granger, as it stands, you have officially been declared deceased in the eyes of the law for the last eight years. You will understand the predicament we’re in.” The balding man adjusted his glasses, even going as far as to rub the bridge of his nose in his frustration. 

 

“It was my hotel room that was broken into!” Hermione snapped, closing her eyes and resting back on her legs to get a break from the man. This was going nowhere fast, and she knew as soon as she’d walked into her destroyed hotel room the previous day that her life was about to get twisted. 

 

Then Lyra and Theo saw the mess…

 

“Ms. Granger…”

 

“Yes, okay. I’ll make arrangements with the French Ministry, but don’t be surprised if you hear from my superior, St. John.” Hermione pulled away from the hearth, ended the call, and stood up, brushing away the nonexistent soot. 

 

“Vanishing charm and a barrier around the logs.”

 

Hermione jumped, clutching her chest, and she whipped around to find Theo standing with his hip resting against the counter that acted as the divider for the kitchen and the sitting room in the open floor plan.  

 

“I’m sorry?” she asked, her breathing still heavy from the fright. 

 

“To keep the soot off everything, Draco hates the mess, so I came up with a solution. Handy little combination.” Theo pushed off the wall, striding toward her, his long legs eating up the distance between them. 

 

He wore a fitted pale pink V-neck shirt, showing off a few tattoos on his chest peeking out of the neckline, his tanned skin nearly glowing in the room's natural lighting. The navy trousers were fitted, hugging muscular thighs that he certainly hadn’t had before she’d moved to France. Long gone was the skinny, awkward boy, trying to find his identity away from his family name, and born this confident, sexy walking orgasm that knew how to dress and didn't give a fuck what others thought.

 

Merlin, she needed to get laid. Hermione shook her head, trying to vanish the idea of stripping him and seeing if he was still sensitive on that spot right at his jawline. 

 

Married. He is married to Draco, making him Lyra’s stepfather—things to remember.  

 

“Brilliant combination,” Hermione replied, her eyes flittering up to his, the dark pools that had always been a weakness of hers. “Though I’m not surprised, you always excelled at charms.”

 

“Almost as good as the brightest witch of our age.”

 

He was standing right before her, making it difficult for Hermione to think of anything other than the cedar and clove scent wafting off him.

 

“I’ve always hated that nickname,” Hermione breathed, swallowing hard, trying to push down the butterflies that appeared in her stomach and the ache between her legs.

 

“What about Gryffindor Princess?” He was leaning in; that or she needed her eyes checked because her depth perception was off.

 

“Horrendous.”

 

“Golden Girl?”

 

“Gag me,” he smirked, his closeness taking her breath away.

 

“That could be arranged.”

 

Hermione’s eyes fluttered close, but she didn’t move. Theo would have to make the move if this were what he wanted.

 

The front door crashed open, breaking the spell they’d been under, bringing Hermione straight from the haze she’d been under. She had enough sense to distance herself and Theo before turning around to find Pansy, Daphne, Luna, and Ginny sweeping into the townhouse. 

 

Fuck.

 

She’d forgotten that leaving the safety of her hotel meant that a few more ghosts might come back to haunt her…

 

“What do you mean you’re at Hyde Park?” Ginny asked into the phone, which she had up to her ear. Her hand was on her hip; her shorts and tank top showed off her tanned, freckled skin with her red hair thrown on the top of her head in a messy bun. “For fucks sake, James, I didn’t think we’d have to spell out not to leave the townhouse and go to a public park after what happened last night! Your father is an Auror; you should know better!”

 

Pansy and Daphne were looking in a bag that they’d brought. Daphne’s long golden hair curled and pulled into a low ponytail, while Pansy’s black hair was still short, coming right under her chin. 

 

Luna, was well, Luna. She floated past the chaotic trio of women straight to where Theo stood, watching the witches with a curious expression.

 

“Theodore,” she said, her pale blue eyes misty, her long white hair hanging loosely around her shoulders in waves. The floor-length sundress made her look like she’d just stepped out of a storybook cottage, the complete opposite of her wife still shouting into a cell phone at her son.

 

“Luna, how’s your day?” he asked, lifting her hand to brush his lips over her pale skin.

 

“Harry called and said that it was getting exciting. A break-in and threats of bodily harm,” she gave a slight shiver of excitement. “We thought we’d come get James with the danger, but it seems the children went to the park. Isn’t that lovely?”

 

“They did what!?” Hermione nearly shouted, stepping toward Luna and looking at the stairway to the upper levels. “What park!?” 

 

Hermione didn’t wait for a response, moving toward the door and patting her pocket to ensure her wand was still stored there, ready to hunt her daughter down, going off on their own when there is an open case and after they’d been moved into Draco and Theo’s townhouse because of the wards to keep them safe . 

 

“Hm, sounds about right,” Theo murmured, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Hermione looked over and narrowed her eyes at the two blue dots in Hyde Park near the Serpentine. “Well, apparently, staying in the house translated to staying in London. Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I have a few children to retrieve.”

 

Hermione moved to follow, but Theo held a hand up, stopping her forward progress. 

 

“Stay here; I doubt Daphne and Pansy came all this way for me.” 

 

“But–”

 

Theo held up his phone, shaking it in Hermione’s face and pointing at the two dots again. “I’ve got them. This…” he trailed off, looking back at Pansy and Daphne, who had finally stood up straight to stare at the Slytherin witches. 

 

When Theo leaned forward, close enough that Hermione could smell the mint toothpaste he’d certainly used that morning, Hermione tried to take a step away, but Theo’s hand came around to the small of her back to hold her in place.

 

“This is a good first step to healing,” he whispered. His lips brushed the corner of her mouth before he pulled away, smiling at her.

 

He didn’t wait for a response, strolling to the door, pulling out a pair of green shades in the shape of hearts and a sunhat. A wink in her direction, and he was out the door, whistling as he went, waving over his shoulder as Hermione watched him descend the stairs out the window. Turning toward Hyde Park, he shoved his hands in his pockets and was gone. 

 

“Don’t move; Theo’s coming to get you, Scorp, and Lyra,” Ginny snapped into the phone.

 

James's answer was a grumbling sound through the receiver, but he must not have argued because then Ginny was saying her goodbyes and telling him how much she loved him, to which there was more grumbling when she refused to hang up until he returned the sentiment. 

 

With Ginny no longer shouting into the phone, Daphne and Pansy ended their chattering and locked eyes on Hermione, causing her goosebumps to prick up her arms. Before she’d left for France, she’d formed a friendship of sorts with Daphne and Pansy. Ginny had stopped speaking to her after Hermione’s involvement had become public knowledge, though that was understandable since Hermione had been engaged with Ron then.

 

Mistakes had been made on both sides.

 

“Granger,” Pansy broke the silence, her sage eyes narrowed on Hermione as she pulled her shoulders back. Even in the August heat, she wore a stylish cream-coloured pantsuit, most likely coming from her boutique in Diagon Alley straight to Draco’s home.

 

“Parkinson,” Hermione replied, putting her hands on her hips. Hermione was one of the most renowned curse-breakers in the world. She wasn’t going to cower to a fashion designer. 

 

“So, you’re not as dead as you had us believe,” Daphne pipped up, mimicking Hermione’s stance. With golden blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes, she had always been coined as a beauty and a prize for any wizard to claim. The joke was on the male population when Pansy claimed her. “And hiding away with my niece, fancy that.”

 

“Lyra isn’t–”

 

“She’s Scorpius’s sister; that makes her my niece,” Daphne interrupted, stepping away from Pansy. “And you were my best friend, more of a sister to me than my sister ever was, and you just left without saying anything.”

 

Hermione watched with horror as her beautiful friend’s eyes filled with tears from the pain that Hermione had caused. Daphne was always the most sensitive of the group they’d formed after Hermione’s break up with Ron. All it took was one well-placed cat adoption advertisement to get her to cry, and for a time, it had been a joke among Hermione and her new Slytherin friends to see what they could show Daphne, but this was not the same.

 

“Draco was marrying your sister; I didn’t think I could come to you…” Hermione trailed off, looking back to Luna, who remained unphased and neutral no matter the situation.

 

“You think I would have chosen Astoria!? Do you think I would have sided with the narcissist who only sends me an owl to let me know that she could tell the glamour on my cellulite didn’t hold for my photo shoot?”

 

“I…I’m sorry…” Hermione murmured, her shoulders slumping forward. 

 

The room was eerily quiet, making Hermione uncomfortable standing on display for the four witches. 

 

Pansy shook her head, reaching into the bag that she was holding. Hermione flinched away but relaxed just a moment later when she saw what her friend was carrying. 

 

“Mimosas are in order if we’re going to be talking about Astoria and her cunty behaviours,” the raven-haired witch said, stepping past Hermione and into the oversized kitchen. “And we’re not leaving here until we’ve heard everything about the last fifteen years.”

 

ooo

 

“You’re sure you don’t mind us staying? Mother just…” Draco paused, looking over to where the kids were lounging by the pool, and Blaise was at the edge of the high dive while the boys called out whatever ridiculous stunt they wanted him to pull.

 

“She wants to get to know Lyra a little better before she goes off to school; yes, I was at brunch when she said so multiple times.”

 

Theo wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist, enjoying the flexing of his back muscles under Theo’s touch. 

 

His husband was also wearing his grey bathing suit, the material tight enough to show off his thighs, but sadly, it did not show off the bulge Theo enjoyed watching grow. Pulling away, Theo smirked at the white sheens of sun cream covering his pale body, making him look ghostly. Lyra and Scorpius had refused, and their skin was already turning pink from sitting out in the sun for too long, so they were now crowded under an umbrella to protect themselves from getting even more burned.

 

James, being ginger and just as pale as the Malfoys, was not nearly as vain as the Malfoys were matching Draco with the thick layer of sun cream, though he wore a rubber ducky suit, jumping around screaming for his stepfather that just performed a perfect swan dive. When James slipped and fell into the pool, Theo pretended not to notice Lyra tucking her wand back in her pool bag.

 

Theo turned his full attention back to his husband, cupping his face, his thumbs brushing over his jaw. The silver eyes that he loved so much looked back at him. Theo couldn't hold out when Draco relaxed into his touch, so he leaned in, pressing his lips against Draco’s.

 

“It’s okay. Hermione is having a girls' day, and Pansy has probably raided the wine fridge, so make sure you restock from the cellar.”

 

“I’m scared that she’s going to think we’re putting Lyra in danger and take off again,” Draco admitted, and Theo could feel his heart aching for his husband. Draco took all the blame When Hermione left the first time. Going over and sleeping with Hermione the night before his wedding had been one of the dumbest things he could have done, but the past couldn’t be changed, and Lyra wouldn’t exist without that moment.  

 

“We’ll just have to keep showing her that she can trust us to love her and that her heart is safe with us,” Theo said, brushing Draco’s hair away from his face. “One step at a time; I swear we aren’t going to lose our witch again.”

 

“Do you promise?” Draco’s plea was so desperate, and Theo knew he would capture the moon and give it to him if it would make his husband smile. He was utterly whipped for the man.

 

“I promise; now go play with the kids and convince them that no one will care if they wear sun cream. And maybe make sure that Lyra doesn’t successfully drown James.” 

 

The hum that came from Draco was indication enough that Draco wasn’t entirely concerned for James’s safety, especially since he’d kept looking at Lyra when she’d pranced out of the manor wearing a pale pink string bikini. 

 

One more kiss and Theo turned on the spot to apparate back into the kitchen of his townhouse, where girls’ day was still in full swing.

 

“Well, to be fair, I was still married to Harry when we found out you were screwing Malfoy behind my brother’s back. And the only reason we even found out was because of your pregnancy scare,” Ginny Zabini said, leaning into her wife, a half-empty champagne glass in her hand.

 

“I thought it was a brilliant relationship reveal; Weasley never deserved you; his alcoholism and trying to cage you and keep you small and not reaching your full potential never sat right with me,” Pansy called from the island into the sitting room.

 

“He was a horrid boyfriend,” Hermione agreed. Theo stepped into the room, finally getting a good look at the woman. 

 

Her hair was thrown in the messy bun that Lyra often sported. Gone was the designer dress and heels she'd worn earlier in the day to go and tell the DMLE to pack sand, replaced with soft grey shorts and an old Slytherin Quidditch shirt with a large number seven on the back under ‘Malfoy.’ Her face was flushed from the mimosas that Pansy had been pouring down her throat all afternoon, and her eyes were slightly glassy. She was curled next to Daphne with one of his throw blankets bunched up at their feet.

 

“Ladies and Pansy,” Theo cooed, walking into the space, drawing all eyes on him. 

 

“You excluded Pansy as a lady?” Hermione asked, her nose scrunching in confusion as she turned her attention to him. 

 

“Pansy Parkinson has never been a lady a day in her life, despite Posey’s best efforts.” 

 

With his quick reflexes, Theo turned and caught the orange that Pansy had lobbed his way, causing the rest of the women to burst out in laughter. 

 

“I’ll have you know that I’m more refined than Red will ever be,” Pansy scoffed, hitting Theo upside his head as she moved past him to her wife’s other side on the couch.

 

“No, but you did get caught feasting on Daph in the bathroom at your mother’s Summer Solstice ball,” Theo pointed out, his legs crossing once he was seated next to Hermione with his arm draped over the back so that he was able to touch the tendrils of her hair that had come loose and were hanging down her neck.

 

When his fingers touched her, Hermione leaned into him, accepting the physical contact without resistance. She melted into his, a sigh escaping, though Theo suspected she hadn’t realised it.

 

As much as Theo enjoyed hanging out with the girls, the closer Hermione snuggled onto him with her bare thigh, touching his leg at the hem of his bathing suit, the more ready he was for them to go. He had a promise that he needed to keep his husband in convincing Hermione not to run, and frankly, his cock had been jumping to attention anytime she came near him or spoke. 

 

The look he shot Pansy wasn’t lost on the witch, and as the most sober of the group, she got the hint from him. Daphne was nearly asleep on Hermione’s shoulder anyway, and it was long past time for them to head home. 

 

“Well, Granger,” Pansy said, standing from her seat with an arm wrapped around her wife’s waist, “come by the shop with Lyra tomorrow. We can get her new school robes ordered.”

 

“Thanks, Pans,” Hermione said, smiling up at the witch, her head fully resting on Theo’s shoulder. “You know you’ve always had this soft spot under that bitchy exterior.”

 

“I will deny that claim until my dying breath,” Pansy stated, her arm around Daphne to keep her from falling over. 

 

Unlike Daphne, Ginny and Luna didn’t seem nearly as intoxicated, though Ginny’s soft smile was very unlike her. Luna, was, well, Luna. There wasn’t much that changed about her. 

 

Hermione pulled away from Theo, leaning forward and gripping each woman in a group hug that nearly had them all falling to the ground. It was a sight to behold, but when she pulled away, the witches stepped into the floo, each calling out their homes and disappearing in a flash of emerald flames.

 

 “Hm, that was good,” Hermione sighed, turning back around, swaying on her feet and smiling at him. 

 

Theo couldn’t help smiling back at such a relaxed Hermione. It was something that he’d thought he’d forfeited all those years ago, and even when they’d found her with Lyra, he’d never thought they could get a place like this. 

 

“Pansy didn’t scare you away?” He asked, stepping up to her and brushing the flyaway hairs away from her face.

 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “They were surprisingly understanding and forgiving. Daphne even said Lyra is her niece as much as Scorpius is her nephew.” 

 

“Oh?” Though Theo could have guessed as much. Daphne and Astoria’s relationship had never been good. Daphne was kind and loving, while Astoria was self-centered and couldn’t take accountability for her actions, always claiming to be the victim. 

 

“Yeah,” Hermione was close enough that Theo’s hands reached out on their own accord to rest on her hips, giving a squeeze. “Do you think of Lyra as your daughter?” She asked, her chocolate eyes glowing from the setting sunlight coming through the window. 

 

“She’s the product of my two favorite people; how could I not consider her my daughter?” He asked, not letting go of her, wanting to keep her close to him. “She’s also rather charming and brilliant. I’m honored that I get to call her mine.”

 

The conversation seemed to have sobered Hermione, her eyes widening at Theo from the confession. 

 

“You’re not just saying that?” she asked, her hands resting on his forearms. 

 

“I never say something I don’t mean. Just like I find her mother the most beautiful woman ever to live.”

 

“Theo…” Hermione looked up at him, her eyes darting down to his mouth and back to meet his gaze. 

 

“Hermione,” Theo whispered, leaning into her. If Draco was the stars in his sky, Hermione was his moon. She was always pulling him in, a tug he was forever destined to be drawn toward.

 

When their lips met, Theo couldn’t stop watching Hermione as she melted into him. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her arms came up around her neck, pulling him in closer to her. The smatter of freckles over the bridge of her nose and her cheeks was highlighted by her tanned skin. 

 

Perfection.

 

“What about Draco?” she asked, but she didn’t pull away, keeping him close as if she were desperate to keep the contact.

 

“He knows, and he’s okay with this,” Theo promised, not wanting her to feel any guilt over the mutual attraction they had for each other.

 

“Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes finding his, and Theo could feel something crack inside him as he looked into the emotion she’d kept behind walls built inside her.

 

“Positive,” Theo didn’t let her question anymore. Instead, he gripped Hermione and pulled her mouth against his again, taking control of the kiss and wanting to erase any doubt she might have had.

 

The sweet sounds coming from her were all the encouragement Theo needed, lifting her so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, her warm core pressed against his cock, straining to get free from his suit.

 

Theo turned around, slowly lowering Hermione to the couch. Going to his knees between her thighs, their kiss didn’t break until his bare chest was feeling the warmth radiating from her. 

 

“Theo,” she moaned, rubbing herself against him, seeking friction when Theo turned his attention to her throat. He nipped at the sensitive skin, soothing the area with his tongue to continue this path.

 

Hermione’s hands came up to his shoulders, going under the open button-up he’d thrown on after getting done swimming. The pastel swirls with white outlines of peacocks were one of his favorites.

 

“You dress better than you did in school,” Hermione said, her fingers playing with the material, seeming to enjoy the feel. 

 

“Only could do so much with those horrid school robes.”

 

Theo captured her lips again, his hands dropping to her bare thighs, running up toward the hem of her shorts. He paused, allowing Hermione to stop him, but when she tilted her hips in encouragement, that was all Theo needed.

 

His fingers slipped to her center, and he moaned when he found she was without knickers. The damn witch was going to be the end of him. She was dripping and sliding through her slit; there was no resistance. 

 

Hermione rocked her hips, matching his rhythm as he brushed her clit with each pass. 

 

“What do you want, Granger?” he asked, nipping her bottom lip, then lapping at the spot with his tongue. “Do you want me to finger fuck you in our sitting room?”

 

“Please,” Hermione begged, her body shaking with each touch of her clit, building her orgasm with each pass. 

 

“Whatever you wish, Princess,” Theo purred, plunging one finger inside her.

 

She was tight, and the way her head fell back, Theo couldn’t help but enjoy the look of his marks on her throat and the flush that was covering her olive skin. She’d always been beautiful, but there was a chance she was more so now. 

 

Turning his finger and curving it, Theo smirked when he brushed her G-spot, causing her hips to buck against him. When his thumb came down on her clit, Hermione’s breathing became more laboured, and Theo felt like he was going to explode without her ever touching him. 

 

“Do you want more,” Theo growled, enjoying the feeling of her arousal dripping down his wrist as he pumped in and out of her. “You need another finger to fill this cunt, Granger?” 

 

Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she tried to hold in those sweet noises that he was growing to crave.

 

“Let me hear you,” Theo said, thrusting a second finger into her core. “I’ll only let you cum if you’re screaming my name. Don’t hold back on me.”

 

Being the good girl he knew she was, Hermione did precisely as instructed. The gasps and moans coming from her mixed with his name were enough that he was going to combust. Theo wasn’t prideful enough to give a fuck about cumming with her to just sounds; it would just make the next time when he was buried deep inside her that much sweeter. 

 

She clamped down around him; her scream of his name was what he was waiting for, and Theo came, his seed dripping down his thigh from being contained in his suit. In front of him, Hermione’s body shook with the force of her climax as he continued pumping his hand. He wanted to pull every last bit of pleasure from her body.

 

When she finally stopped moving and collapsed against the couch, Theo pulled his hand from her shorts. Through her hooded eyes, Hermione watched as Theo brought his hand up to his mouth and hummed in enjoyment at the taste of her. 

 

“Still perfection,” he moaned, licking down his wrist to not let even a drop go to waste. 

 

Once he finished, Theo crawled between Hermione’s thighs, the mess in his suit evident, and when Hermione’s eyes widened at the sight of his climax, Theo could only smirk. He wanted her to see precisely the hold she had on him.

 

“Come here,” he didn’t wait for an answer, lifting Hermione as she squeaked and arranged her body against his. With a wave of his hand, they were both cleaned for the moment, at least until he had the energy to take her up to the shower and get his mouth on her beautiful cunt.

 

A sexually satisfied Hermione was always easier to reason with. The post-orgasm haze turned that big brain of hers off so that she wasn’t overthinking everything.

 

“Draco and the kids are staying at the Manor. Cissa wanted a slumber party with the kids before they returned to school.” Theo whispered into the mass of curls that had fallen free and hung around Hermione’s shoulders.

 

“Should we be there then?” Hermione asked, her body still relaxed against his, though he could hear the undertone of worry in the question.

 

“They’ll be fine. Lyra is the girl that Cissa always wanted, so the most we have to fear is the new wardrobe that Lyra will return with. Might need to invest in a few more trunks for her.”

 

Hermione turned into Theo’s hold, her face resting against his chest as she hummed in agreement. As spoiled rotten as Draco had been in school, it was a drop in the bucket compared to what Cissa would have done had Draco been a girl. Draco being bi-sexual was a consolation prize as far as Cissa was concerned, though now having a granddaughter, she was over the moon.

 

“Lyra thinks I'm gay.”

 

“What!?” That woke Hermione up, her chocolate gaze meeting his, and the alcohol and orgasm finally cleared. “What would make her think that?”

 

“Not sure, but just imagine her reaction when she finds out I’m completely mad for her mother.” Theo squeezed Hermione against him, enjoying the smell of lilac in her hair. The feel of her pressed against him had his cock already stirred to life again, and Theo wasn’t going to waste a moment of his alone time with Hermione. 

 

Lifting her into his arms as he stood and made his way toward the stairs, he was ready to spend the rest of the night getting to know every sound Hermione could make and memorize every part of her body.

Chapter 13: Their fear and disgust only speaks to their character, not who you are.

Whatever had been happening between Theo and Hermione for the last few weeks, Draco had a pretty good guess at the way Hermione’s face turned a bright shade of red every time Theo sucked the sugar from his muffin off his fingers. His husband was also making quite the show of it, and Draco suspected that if Theo had locked eyes with him , he’d probably have the same reaction. 

 

“Any plans for the day?” 

 

Draco’s fork hovered midair as he looked to where his partner sat. No, not Theo. His Auror partner never seemed to be able to fend for himself on a Saturday morning. Moreover, Potter was a fantastic cook, so he was still begrudgingly welcomed.

 

“School supplies, we must ensure that we have everything Scorpius needs before he moves back on campus. There are a few odds and ends left to buy, so going to pick those up,” Theo said, turning his head with such grandeur that it was a wonder he didn’t fall out of his chair. 

 

“Oh, damn,” Potter muttered, and Draco could already foresee what was coming next. “Are you getting anything for Lyra while you’re out?” His attention was entirely on Hermione now, and her spoon filled with porridge was about to her mouth.

 

“Uh, yes, there were a couple of things she still needed from the shops. Potions ingredients mostly that I couldn’t buy too far in advance. Now that we can go home tomorrow, I figured it’ll be easier to buy them rather than try shopping when we return to France.” 

 

“Perfect, so it’s settled. I’ll send James with you all! Between us, I promised Gin that I would do the shopping this year, but it slipped my mind, and I’ve got a meeting in,” Potter looked down at his watch, squinting his eyes. He needed a new prescription, but even with his vaults overflowing, Potter never spent more gold than he had to. “Shoot, five minutes. I’m going to be late.”

 

Draco didn’t move as he watched Potter gulp the remainder of his coffee and shovel his bacon and eggs into his mouth. Watching Potter, Draco lifted his elbow to rest on the table with his chin on his fist. Potter patted down the front of his robes until he smiled triumphantly and pulled out a crumpled envelope addressed to James on the front. 

 

“You’re joking,” Draco deadpanned, but Potter was already halfway toward the fireplace. What had his life become when he was school supplies shopping for Harry Potter’s son so that Potter’s ex-wife wouldn’t castrate him?

 

“Mione, dinner, yeah?” Potter said, helping himself to floo powder, and Hermione only waved her hand in his general direction. “That’s not a yes.”

 

“Yes, alright, go to your meeting,” Hermione stated, her eyes growing as she read through the shopping list Potter had handed her. “This is outrageous,” she called, but Potter was already gone in a burst of emerald flames. “What has happened with him since I’ve been gone? This is wildly irresponsible.”

 

“I have a theory,” Theo said, scooting his chair closer to Hermione. Her cheeks reddened again, and had Draco not been promised the memory of the event, he’d probably be demanding it from his husband. 

 

“Which is?” Lyra asked, her head popping up from the bowl of cereal in front of her. 

 

“He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for so long from saving it and rebuilding it, and then when he knocked Weaslette up, he continued having to live up to it. Once she divorced him, the pressure was gone, and now he can exist.”

 

“So now he acts like he lives in a brothel?” Scorpius added off-handedly.

 

Draco’s hand made contact with the back of Scorpius’s head, and his son complained and muttered about how that’s what Theo said, but his husband conveniently did not pay them any attention. Lyra and James–the latter who should not be present for such talk about his father–burst into laughter. 

 

“Anyway, it looks like we have a lot of shopping to do today,” Theo said over the three teens, who had completely dissolved into a fit, plucking the list away from Hermione. “A family outing. Maybe we could get Lyra a new cat or a toad to take to school with her.”

 

“Why would anyone want a toad?” Lyra asked, but Theo was already out of his seat and heading for the staircase. The three kids exchanged looks and were out of their chairs, racing behind him to their rooms to get ready to go to Diagon Alley and the Muggle shopping district for Scorpius, leaving Hermione and Draco alone at the breakfast table.

 

It took a few moments of silence before Hermione noticed, but once she did, she nearly leaped from the table and began to gather the dishes. She didn’t use her magic. She stacked and carried them, clearing the remaining food into the bin before placing them in the sink and starting the water.

 

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He hadn’t been alone with her since his stag night. He’d been awful to her that night and the days leading up to it.

 

He never should have gone to her, but the drinks had been flowing, and the idea of marrying Astoria and never getting to hold Hermione again had him moving without thought. He’d blasted her door down and then made love to her on the floor. 

 

When he’d woken the following morning, his father’s threats ran through his head. He couldn’t risk her life any further than he already had, so he’d left. And then she’d left, and when he couldn’t find her, he’d believed her to be dead, and a world without Hermione Granger wasn’t a world he was prepared for. 

 

Then she came stumbling back into his life with their daughter in tow.

 

Now that she was back, Draco wanted–no, he needed to make things right with her. He had to have her in his life. Not just because of Lyra but because she was and always had been the breath he needed.

 

“Hermione–”

 

“I ought to go get changed. If we’re to go shopping and get everything on James’s list.”

 

She didn’t spare him a glance as she passed him and ascended the stairs. Draco's face fell at the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, and he could feel a part of his soul shatter at the rejection. 

 

ooo

 

“So…” James trailed off beside him, and Scorpius wanted to push his friend into the fountain they were passing. The redheaded menace had been acting like a love-sick puppy trailing after Lyra.

 

His sister, however, was not amused by his friend, and no matter how awful she was toward him, James kept coming back. He’d always been a glutton for punishment. 

 

“You leave tomorrow,” his friend pressed, and Scopirus looked up into the sky, wishing for whatever Gods existed to put him out of his misery. The secondhand embarrassment was more than he could take.

 

“And then we’ll be back at school in a few more days after that,” James continued. Scorpius pretended not to notice when Lyra pulled out her wand and tied his friend’s laces together, causing him to stumble. 

 

“I’ll write you–”

 

“I’d rather you not,” Lyra mumbled under her breath.

 

“And you can write to me.”

 

“James, my boy!” Theo halted ahead, turning around with his smile wide enough that Scorpius knew he’d been listening to the entire exchange. 

 

It wasn’t Lyra’s fault that James was oblivious, so he couldn’t fault her for being so cold to the oblivious bloke. Theo, however, was the master of pivoting any situation and pulling away from any awkwardness that was happening.  

 

“Uh, yeah?” James asked, looking from Scorpius to Lyra and then to Theo. 

 

“You, me, and Draco will divide and conquer that list of yours. I don’t particularly like being in Diagon Alley for more than twenty minutes, and this list of yours is utterly outrageous. Come, you’re with me. We’ll get your books, Hermione will grab your new cauldron and potion supplies while she gets Lyra’s, and Draco can get everything else.”

 

“Hey, I never agreed–”

 

“Draco’s coffers are much deeper than mine, so we’ll have to put the supplies on his tab,” Theo continued, linking his arm through James’s and pulling the confused boy along with him. “Hermione, make sure you do the same for your items!” 

 

And just as quickly as it’d started, the whirlwind that was Theodore Nott was gone. Scorpius and Lyra stood in stunned silence. The efficiency with which Theo worked was always something to admire. Scorpius and Lyra looked at each other and shrugged. They moved to where Hermione stood, watching Theo and James disappear into the crowd.

 

“Well, Scorpius, Lyra, either of you want to go buy…robes, new dragon hide gloves, ear muffs, telescope, Quidditch kit, broom, chaser gloves…what the fuck, Potter!?” His father was scowling at the list, and Scorpius laughed. 

 

“Potter’s lost the plot if he thinks I’m buying his son a new broom,” his father muttered, scowling at the list, his eyes widening at what Scorpius could only imagine was an absurd amount of things.

 

“So, the apothecary was this way…” Hermione said, turning north.

 

Without looking up, his father pointed in the opposite direction. 

 

“They moved to a larger building about five years ago when they expanded. Bloody hell, this is going to take me ages.” His father finally pulled his gaze off the parchment and looked at Hermione, who was now studying two lists, though Scorpius knew there wasn’t much on either. “Do…or, I suppose…would you like me…er, that’s–”

 

“I’ll take the kids. We’ll get lunch in Muggle London when we’re done. I already texted Theo, and he said he’d meet with us after he’s done.”

 

Scorpius felt terrible about how hurt his father looked at Hermione's easy dismissal, but he masked it quickly enough that neither Hermione nor Lyra noticed. Scorpius glanced at Hermione, but she wasn’t looking at his father. Instead, she typed out a message on her cell, most likely to Theo.

 

His father’s look at the dismissal broke his heart, but Scorpius wasn’t about to get involved in whatever happened between the two adults. It seemed Lyra was of the same mindset, not paying them any attention.

 

Now that Scorpius was watching his sister, it seemed she wasn’t paying any attention to the adults, instead glaring at a pair of women standing on the other side of the street. Scorpius looked at the women, and instantly, anything he’d been thinking about regarding his father and Hermione was gone as he realized the women weren’t on the other side of the street but making a wide arch as they walked past.

 

Their gloved hands were up, covering their mouths as they gawked at him. If they cared that he’d noticed them, they didn’t show it; instead, they only looked more disgusted at the sight of him. 

 

Scorpius’s head dropped, so he looked at his shoes and kicked at the pebbles on the ground. He shoved his hands in his pockets and hoped that if he made himself small enough, people would stop watching him, but it was hopeless. 

 

“It’s the squib. Benjamin, Don’t get too close!” 

 

Usually, his father was more aware of people’s reactions to him in Diagon Alley, which was partly why they never came here. But Lyra needed her potion ingredients, and his father wanted to be a part of school shopping with her. He hadn’t had the heart to tell Hermione they never came to Diagon or why, and Scorpius hadn’t wanted to make his father choose between him and Lyra. 

 

It was always the same: the spotlight that came with being a Malfoy. The disgust and fear of being too close to a squib, as if it were something they might catch. 

 

A little hand grabbed his, and Scorpius was shocked by the act and looked over to his sister, who stood with him, glaring at the woman ushering her young son away from him. Her white curls hung around her shoulders today, golden sparks crackling through them as if they were sentient. 

 

“What are you doing?” Scorpius asked, looking at the mother, whose attention was now drawn to Lyra.

 

“Showing them that you don’t need magic to be a fantastic person and brother. Their fear and disgust only speaks to their character, not who you are.” Her silver eyes narrowed, and Scorpius watched as everyone passing was only watching Lyra and her impressive show. 

 

Scorpius looked at his father and Hermione, but neither noticed the scene unfolding. This was when his father decided to make his stand with Hermione. 

 

“We can’t keep dancing around it, Hermione. There’s so much–”

 

“You destroyed me–”

 

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for that.” 

 

Scorpius looked away, wanting to give them a semblance of privacy. Holding his sister, he started down the alley toward the apothecary. They had a copy of the list for Lyra and James. There was no reason to stay in Diagon any longer than necessary.  

 

“Send your mum a text, tell her we’ll meet her at the shop,” Scorpius muttered. Getting off the street and into the store would at least limit the number of eyes watching him.

 

Lyra looked behind him and saw what he was talking about: their parents standing in the shade of an overhang, squabbling and utterly unaware of their surroundings. Had Theo been here, he would have known what to do, but Scorpius was not Theo, and he’d never been comfortable with confrontation. 

 

Pulling Lyra with him, his father and Hermione were still within sight of the shop, so he didn’t feel too horrible about leaving them behind. Lyra, as promised, had sent a message and had blessedly been delivered. 

 

They’d nearly reached the entrance and opened the door; Scorpius stopped and groaned at the voice behind him.

 

“Look who it is.”

 

He slowly turned around and saw that he’d been right. Two guys that Scorpius recognized as blokes James went to school with saw him and made to advance; Lyra turned her attention to them and bared her teeth as they stepped around, blocking the path.

 

“Let’s go,” she said, pushing past them, trying to enter the apothecary. “I’d rather not be near small-minded, prejudiced assholes.” 

 

“What’s the hurry, sweetheart? It’s not like the squib has any reason to go in here,” the second bloke said, his smile widening, the wand twisting around his fingers as if he were taunting Scorpius with the fact he didn’t have magic.

 

The first guy snickered, and it seemed to be the thing that pushed his sister over the edge. Where she’d hidden her wand in her hair was anyone’s guess, but she was quick as an asp, pulling it on the blokes. Their lips began swelling, and their eyes widened with horror when their teeth began elongating, going down to their chins. 

 

Everything swiftly descended into chaos as Lyra kept her wand on the boys. They scrambled, trying to cast a counter curse, but with their lips and teeth in the way, they could not speak. Lyra stood between Scorpius and the assholes, her shoulders pulled back and her wand still held loosely in her hand at her side, appearing casual, but he knew it was a facade. 

 

“Shame your education is so behind you can’t cast non-verbals yet,” his sister taunted. She stomped a foot toward them, and the boys jumped away from her, which only had Lyra chuckling. Another step, and they were sent running down the street.

 

When she turned to look at him, Scorpius searched her face for any pity that he’d seen so often in the faces of his father, Theo, or his aunts when something like this happened in front of them. He’d hated it. Scorpius didn’t hate being a squib; it didn’t bother him or make him feel less that he didn’t have magic. However, he hated that others felt sorry for him. 

 

Only Lyra showed none of it. Her brows were raised as if she were saying after you, gesturing to the shop behind her. She wasn’t going to run away and hide from pricks, but she wasn’t going to lie down and let them intimidate or bully him.  

 

“Yeah, let’s get your shit so we can go eat,” Scorpius said, stepping past her and into the apothecary. Scorpius was slightly enjoying himself in Diagon Alley for the first time he could remember.

Chapter 14: Back to School

Rushing with her messenger bag hanging from her shoulder, Lyra’s fingers tangled in the wet strands of her curly as she desperately attempted to plait it. Scowling at the pieces that had broken free, Lyra gave up on the style and resorted to twisting her hair onto the top of her head, shoving her wand in for good measure.

 

She’d been warned numerous times to take better care of her wand, but truthfully, Lyra was more likely to lose her wand in her hair than it was to be lost in the bustle of her rushing from class to class. 

 

Her tragic hair was the least of her worries as Lyra stepped through the archway into the great hall. As the silencing charm passed over her, excited students calling out to friends they hadn’t seen over the summer holidays bounced off the floor-to-ceiling-stained glass windows. The likenesses of the past headmasters and headmistresses of Beauxbatons in the colorfully crafted glass watched the students race from table to table.

 

The oval room's beautiful mahogany floors, vaulted ceiling, and numerous tables seating a maximum of eight students made it feel more like a home than what Lyra had learned of Hogwarts Great Hall from James. The idea of being restricted to only sitting with her dormmates and only an enchantment to imitated the sky didn’t sound nearly as appealing as what Lyra had grown to love from her school.

 

Well, the fifty crystal chandeliers sparkling overhead weren’t precisely standard home decorum, but Lyra was a Malfoy, after all, and her stepfather was a Nott. A crystal chandelier was nothing compared to Theo’s idea of interior design.   

 

I can’t believe they almost didn’t let you come back for school,” Vivi whispered as Lyra pulled out her chair and sank into her seat. “What did they think was going to happen? You’re in school, and they know where your mother works; it’s not like you can disappear.”

 

“I have a feeling that’s exactly what they’re thinking mum is going to, since she, ya know, did disappear for like sixteen years. It was a fight to get back and convince the British Ministry that we weren’t a flight risk.” Lyra replied, looking down at the table. She was glad to see a few friendly faces she’d missed and waved in greeting.  

 

Even though she had missed school, looking around, Lyra found herself frowning at the lack of a certain blonde and redhead that she’d become much too accustomed to hanging around the last few weeks, mainly thanks to the extended vacation and having to stay at her father’s house for the later part of it. 

 

Shaking her head, Lyra focused her attention on her best friend next to her and smiled. There was no need to dwell on who wasn’t here, and she had missed Vivi.

 

“So, are you going there for a holiday then?” Vivi continued, her eyes bright as she waved to a seventh-year student who had been trying to get Vivi to date him since the year before. Vivi never flat-out ignored anyone, but she’d never dated anyone. 

 

“Yeah, that’s what the plan is. Mum and Theo have a weird friendship thing going on. He took her shopping and bought her a new wardrobe and, strangely, furniture.” 

 

In fact, he’d bought so much stuff that her mother had refused to bring everything back, leaving enough behind that it had nearly taken up the room that Theo had dedicated as Lyra’s. Lyra suspected that was Theo’s plan, and she wanted her mother to have a stocked closet at their house as an excuse to come back to visit and stay for as long as they wanted.

 

At the moment, the plan was to spend the entire winter holiday in London with the Malfoys. Her mum had built up so much personal time off that they could spend the whole break in London, and Aunt Gabby would also come with them for a week to visit her sister. Truthfully, it all seemed a bit orchestrated, but Lyra was trying to enjoy watching her mother be dotted on while getting to know her brother instead of waiting for the other shoe to drop.  

 

Lyra was about to ask Vivi a question when an owl swooped in, causing every head to look at the bird coming through the entrance. The murmurs began at the unusual sight, and to Lyra’s horror, she saw the bird was headed right for her. 

 

When it landed next to her, Lyra’s eyes widened in slight horror, with her first instinct to shoot the damn thing away. They had a post room where the owls would land, and then the mail would be distributed to each student’s dorm. An owl never appeared where they ate their meals, but it became clear that it was not leaving until she’d taken the package from its leg. Giving it a bit of bacon, and the owl was gone. 

 

She looked at Vivi, who was staring at the box with a bemused expression. Slipping the note attached to the side, Lyra unwrapped the ribbon. The lid sprang open, and a bouquet of Fleur-de-lis burst out, causing pedals to shoot into the air like confetti, raining down in a colorful shower, garnering the attention of anyone who hadn’t already been watching after the owl.

 

“I burn?” Vivi asked, reaching for the note that Lyra had forgotten. “Who would send such a thing?”

 

“I have a guess,” Lyra deadpanned, scowling at the gawkers, trying to sneak a better glance at what Lyra had received. 

 

“I will wait for you. Forever yours, James.” Vivi read, the smirk on her face wide, and Lyra wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table and be sucked into the floor. “Someone certainly knows how to profess his love.”

 

“Too bad, it’s unrequited,” Lyra said, but she found herself biting her lip as she plucked the letter from Vivi’s hand—the messy writing with a heart next to his name and the flowers. 

 

Instead of tossing it all in the bin on her way to bed, Lyra cast a preservation spell and tucked the flowers in her trunk and the parchment in her bag.

 

ooo

 

Scorpius stood on the Windsor Bridge, looking out over the River Thames, mesmerized by the ripples of water steadily rolling. The occasional fish splashing in the water as the swans swam on it made for a serien view, but Scorpius couldn’t enjoy it.

 

The term had just begun at Eton, and unlike years past, Scorpius didn’t feel he could share the events of his summer with his friends. Typically, the boys shared stories of the lavish holidays that had gone on and the trouble they’d gotten into while traveling with their families. Scorpius would have given an abridged version of events that happened with his mother, and that would have been that.

 

This year, however, Scorpius was left thinking about his sister, the dangers she and her mother were in, and how both his father and Theo seemed to want to make Hermione a permanent fixture in their lives, even though Hermione did not see welcoming to the idea herself. 

 

The foot traffic on the bridge was steady, but Scorpius had never felt so alone. The eventful move-in with his roommates had only distracted him long enough to put away all his belongings. The walls of his shared room held a few artifacts from home that Theo had insisted Scorpius needed, but it felt empty.

 

Not thinking of having a good cover story for who Lyra was and where she had been his entire life, Scorpius kept her identity from his muggle friends a secret. He could have said she went to some French boarding school for girls, but he didn’t know which classmates had friends or cousins who attended various ones. The lie would have been too complex to keep.   

 

Watching a swan dive under the water, the pink, red, and orange lights reflected off the water. Closing his eyes, Scorpius laid his forehead against the cold concrete to calm his racing thoughts. The threats to his sister came to the forefront, and Scorpius felt helpless, unable to protect her.

 

Standing upright, Scorpius stretched his arms, finally turning away from the serene scene; Scorpius paused at the empty sight of the bridge. Despite being light out, all the foot traffic that had disbursed confused him, but Scorpius pushed aside the pinpricks on his neck that were telling him he was in danger.

 

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Scorpius lowered his head and began walking back toward Eton. Even as he put distance between himself and the bridge, Scorpius couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched.

 

That he was being hunted.

Chapter 15: Owls

It had been a month since school had resumed. It was becoming more apparent to Scorpius that keeping his life in the muggle world and wizarding world separate would be nearly impossible. The owl clicking against his window was a clear indication of this fact.

 

“Whoa, is that an owl?” Jeremy, one of Scorpius’s roommates, said, racing to the window to better see the barn owl pecking against the glass again.

 

“I bloody well hope not,” Scorpius murmured, his head dropping into his hands while seated at his desk.

 

“No, look, it is an owl! And it’s got something tied to its foot! Maybe it’s part of some study, but I don’t think someone would attach letters to them,” said Nolan, Jeremy's friend.

 

“I swear on all things,” Scorpius muttered, pulling out his phone to send his father a message to have an oblivion team sent out for the third time this week. “Jones just sent a text and said there’s something in the alley he wants you to look at,” Scorpius said, setting his phone back on his desk.

 

“Really?” Jeremy asked, turning and resembling an over-excited dog. It was too easy to send him someplace semi-private for the obliviation team to do their job. The first time Jeremy had found Scorpius attaching a reply for James to an owl's leg, Scorpius feared that it would be nearly impossible for the obliviation team to do their job without kidnapping the poor kid. 

 

However, after living with the bloke for the past four years, Scorpius realized that the boy was really an idiot and easily manipulated. As the saying goes, Nolan was much the same: a bird of a feather.  

 

James had been the only person who had used owls to contact him in years past, and his communication had been limited. James hadn’t been overly fond of correspondence, limiting himself to one letter every few months. However, in light of recent events–also known as Lyra–James had taken to writing as often as Theo did, which equated to daily.

 

It wasn’t only James who had begun sending owls either. Lyra consistently sent Scorpius three to four-page letters every two weeks. But it didn’t end there. For whatever reason, Lyra’s friend Vivienne also wanted to become a pen pal, sending occasional updates and questions and including pictures of herself and Lyra. 

 

Jeremy and Nolan had seen the moving picture of them and made suggestions that led Scorpius to request an obliviation team.

 

With the room to himself, Scorpius opened the window and narrowed his eyes at the bird that hopped in through the opening. The large white-faced owl cocked its head as if it could read Scorp’s thoughts and wasn’t impressed in the slightest by him.

 

“I’m a squib, and it’s not my fault we don’t use owls for our posts. You could have been more inconspicuous, you know. Maybe next time, come at night instead of in the middle of broad daylight.”

 

The owl clicked his beak and nipped at Scorpius’s fingers when he went for the roll of parchment as soon as the owl had completed its mission of delivering the message. Muttering to himself, Scorpius opened the letter and groaned when he saw it was from James.

 

Have you heard from your sister? I sent her a new cloak, but she hasn’t responded. Do you think that I ought to try sending her a new broom? She likes Quidditch, right? Do you think she needs a new one? I thought the two-way mirror might be helpful, but she felt it was a regular hand mirror and put it in her trunk. 

 

Flaring his nostrils, Scorpius crumpled the unsigned message and stomped to the bin, throwing the crumpled parchment away. Snatching his mobile off his desk, Scorpius pressed it to his ear, listening to it ring as the call connected.

 

“Theo?” Scorpius snapped, despite knowing it wasn’t his step-father’s fault that he was friends with an idiot; Scorpius struggled to keep his tone level.

 

“The prodigal son!” Theo called, the sound of the busy London streets coming in through the background. “How are the things?”

 

“The things?” Scorpius asked, no hint of amusement in his tone.

 

“You know, classes, friends, clubs–all the things you do at an all-boys school. Oh, did you discover something new about your sexuality? Do you find any of the other boys cute or want to snog their faces off?”

 

Scorpius pressed his lips together instead of answering.   

 

“Oh, is that why you needed an obliviation team? Did you make a move, and it went poorly? Oh, honey, it’s alright. The key is that you have to rub their–”

 

“I did not kiss a bloke!” Scorpius yelled into the phone, smacking his palm against his face. “Honestly, I’ve never– You know what, that’s not why I called. I called because I need you to write a few howlers for me.”

 

“Howlers? Did you kiss James, then? I never thought he was your type, but your father always swore he didn’t have a thing for Potter, but I always wondered.” Theo’s voice was breathy as if he were dodging traffic, which was very possible as he had never used a crosswalk. 

 

“Can you just get over here before my roommate gets back?” Scorpius answered, not wanting to entertain the idea that his father and Harry Potter had any romantic entanglements. The image was enough to make him gag.

 

“Fine, keep your secrets. Move everything off your bed, I’m…” Scorpius could hear the rattle of rubbish bins as if Theo were hiding in an alleyway. 

 

The crack of an apparition filled his room as the call disconnected, and Theo stood behind him. His brown curls were sticking out in every way, and the collar of the charcoal grey peacoat he wore was flipped up to cover his ears. The tip of his nose was pink from the October chill in the air. 

 

“Here!” Theo chimed, bouncing across the room until he was right before Scorpius. “Now, what strongly worded letter are we sending to James Potter? How dare he break your heart! I finally opened–”

 

“Here,” Scorpius said, thrusting the pen and parchment into Theo’s hand. “I need you to duplicate it three times and then send them to James, Lyra, and Lyra’s friend Vivienne.”

 

“Lyra? You didn’t kiss Lyra, did you? I know you watched Star Wars, but buddy…come on, Luke and Leia didn’t know they were twins when that happened.”

 

“Theo! I haven’t been snogging anyone!” Scorpius yelled, his frustration growing by the moment. “Could you just charm the damn paper?”

 

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” Theo chided, “language.” Before Scorpius could protest, Theo was shaking his head and tapping his wand against the paper, turning it a crimson red. 

 

“Stop fucking sending the owls here,” Scorpius stated as he wrote the message out on the paper, ignoring Theo’s gasp at his use of the curse word. “I’ve told you, send your bloody messages to my dad so he can mail them to me like a muggle! My roommate has been obliviated so many times he has most likely sustained brain damage! And James, send Lyra whatever message you want her to get from you! Lyra, I’m not going to pass any message along to James! Tell him yourself if you don’t want him to send you roses every morning! I’m not an owl!”

 

Holding the paper to Theo, Scorpius took a deep breath and looked to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to center himself. He could only imagine his year if this was what it was like, only a month into school.

Chapter 16: But if it was impossible, why did Hermione feel such a sense of foreboding?

Summary:

Trigger warning: animal abuse with a graphic description of a horse's death.

If you want to skip that part, stop reading at: “Looks like you’re the last to know, as usual,” Alden said, looking Scorpius over with a scoff and an eye roll as if Scorp’s short crewneck was personally offending him. “Can’t be bothered to check the group message before you show up looking like a prick?”

Read end notes for the ending of the chapter.

“I still can’t believe he sent each of us a howler. Honestly, it's a un peu excessif if you ask me,” Vivi stated, her French accent thick as she vented out her frustration. Swapping her scowl for a playful smile, she flipped her long white blonde hair over her shoulder as she wiggled her fingers at a poor boy walking past on the cobble path. As if her Veela magic had taken over his brain, the fool tripped over his feet, properly toppling himself right into the central courtyard's center fountain. 

 

“Yes, well, I feel Scorpius can sometimes be overly dramatic. I think he must get it from Theo,” Lyra replied, knowing full well that the Howler sent to Draco and Theo’s house for Scorpius might not have been the most level-headed thing she’d done recently. Vivi didn’t know about said Howler, allowing Lyra to stay on her high and mighty proverbial seat above her brother. However, it seemed her best friend hadn’t heard her because the other girl was gone when Lyra turned to her friend. And not just gone, but over at the fountain helping to fish out the sodden lad.  

 

Lyra watched the ornate fountain, which depicted a beautiful trio of mermaids brushing each other’s hair while playing in the stream of water, burst into silent trills of laughter at the sight of the submerged boy. If these three were anything like what an actual mermaid would be, Lyra was glad she’d never had the misfortune of meeting one. Based on what she'd read of the terrible creatures, they were more like harpies with fins if you asked her. Good riddance. It made Lyra glad the species had been banished to the Indian Ocean. She knew better than to say that around her mother; however, the woman always took the side of whatever creature.

 

Lyra continued walking, rolling her eyes at the foolishness of the male species, while Vivi continued in her vain attempts to attend to him. Each failed miserably as the mermaids shot streams of water in his face, causing him to crash into the water again. As Lyra continued away, she could hear the sputtering and splashing sounds as Vivi helped the boy from his accidental cold plunge. 

 

November had officially come, and the chill called for warmer cloaks, mittens, ear coverings, and thicker stockings for the girls to wear with their school uniform. Despite losing her companion, Lyra continued shuffling toward the mountain's base on the school grounds, not at all deterred that she would be going on this quest alone. With their advanced potion lesson today, Lyra was trying to find the freshest ingredients for the best possible outcome. She was still within the school wards; what was the worst that could happen to her?

 

Lyra had a goal of becoming a potions master following her completion at Beauxbaton. Despite only being in her fifth year, she knew that most potion masters were already scouting who they might offer to take on as an apprentice. Sitting her OWLs and the grades from those would put her on the radar of the best of the best worldwide.

 

While she would have the option to apply with various ones, Lyra knew that she wanted someone to request that she study under them. She couldn’t have that happen if she were slacking off in her classes, even her other lessons besides potions if she had been given such a grand opportunity. 

 

Hiking up her skirts to step over the bit of mud at the base, Lyra looked up toward the climb she was about to make. Nothing that she’d never done before, but still, it was a daunting task, especially when one didn’t want to risk breaking the dress code for appearing in class disshelved. 

 

“Hm,” Lyra looked around, scouting out the best path, when she heard a branch breaking off. 

 

Thinking that Vivi must have just caught up after her valiant rescue attempts, Lyra didn’t bother looking toward her friend. Instead, she took off at a run and leaped at the rock, gripping the handle she’d spotted moments before scaling up over the lip. With a triumphant smile, Lyra turned, fully expecting to find Vivi standing there with hands on her hips, ready to scold Lyra about proper lady behaviour. 

 

However, when Lyra looked around, no one was there, not a scowling Vivi or otherwise.

 

“ Bonjour? ” Lyra called out, assuming whoever was lurking about didn’t speak English. “ Qui est la? ” 

 

When no one answered, Lyra shook her head, figuring she must have imagined the sound, and turned back to the path she’d spotted to begin her ascent of the mountain. She only had a free period before she had to be back at the castle for her charms lesson and then potions right after that. If she were going to brew a perfect Veritaserum, she would have to make it to the little clearing she’d come across and collect what she needed before returning to the school.

 

Because, again, all her grades mattered, not just scores in Potions.

 

Using the back of her hand to wipe the sweat dripping into her eyes, Lyra marched onward, not daring to take her eyes off the path for longer than a few moments. The fear of ruining her footwear and the terrible scolding that would follow if she did was at the forefront of her mind.  

 

So lost in her thoughts and the task before her, Lyra didn’t notice anything amiss until she gathered the roots and a few other plants she could use. Despite the silence, Lyra knew someone was out there as her skin began to prick—something was watching her.

 

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out her little compact mirror and slung her tote over her shoulder, acting as if nothing was amiss. 

 

“Hi, Mum!” Lyra chirped, slinging her bag over her body as she turned and began to stroll down the path she’d just come. “Oh, well, you’ll never believe what I found in the mountains! I know! Amazing, isn’t it!” Lyra said, projecting her voice as her feet carried her quickly back toward the school.

 

The sloshing of mud under her feet and kicking up onto the ends of her skirts didn’t have Lyra slowing but staying at the same, almost relaxed pace she’d taken up here. “I agree, you should come for a visit soon. Professor Faron would love you to join him in demonstrating curse-breaking. Well, you know how professors get. They always like to show off real-world examples and give out possible career ideas. It is so dull that the only thing students ever think of when looking at a DADA career is becoming an Auror as if that’s all there is to life.” 

 

The sweat was stinging Lyra’s eyes, but she didn’t dare to disrupt the illusion she was projecting to whoever was following her. If they were smart, they would see the threat that is Hermione Granger and how attacking her only daughter might not be the brightest idea. 

 

“Well, if you got me an owl, perhaps I could write more often, but I will say the mountains beside the school hold so many amazing magical properties, and I finally feel like I’m starting to uncover them,” Lyra announced, smiling at her reflection. “Vivi! Hey! I’m over here!” Lyra yelled, waving her arm in the air, keeping the mirror in one hand while she raced toward the short drop to the path that led to the school.

 

Even without her friend’s presence, Lyra launched off the rock and hit the ground, keeping a steady jog toward the school. Even if she were utterly alone, giving the illusion of having someone you’re speaking to can ward off a would-be kidnapper. 

 

Perhaps she ought to call her mother for real.

 

—

 

The buzz of activity in the Ministry was enough to have Hermione reach for the pot of coffee to fill her cup again. The workload had only been building since she had returned from the very impromptu vacation she’d taken with Lyra over the summer to let her daughter become acquainted with her father and brother, resulting in a mess for her at work.

 

“What is it now?” Hermione muttered to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose as a note landed on her desk. “Honestly, if it’s Reynaud Legrand and his bloody cursed safe again, I might scream.” A heavy sigh slipped from her before pulling open the official DMLE wax seal that kept the note closed.

 

OFFICIAL MINISTRY NOTICE: Unaccounted Werewolf sightings in the Pyrenees Mountains this full moon. Livestock attacks have been reported, but no human casualties have been reported thus far. Inform your departments to be on the lookout for unusual behavior or patterns. Be advised that the Werewolf Registration Act of 1652 is still in place. If you have been bitten or know someone a Werewolf has bitten, it must be reported, and your name must be added to the registration list. All Werewolves will spend all full moons in containment units per 1263 FMMCS 73/2485-37.1. If you know anyone violating this law, please get in touch with the Auror office.

 

Hermione’s hands shook as she looked down at the parchment, fear gripping her chest. Lyra was at school. The ward around the castle nestled in the Pyrenees Mountains was impenetrable. Hermione had tested them herself when Lyra was first offered a spot, not trusting that they would be up to her standards.

 

No, Beauxbatons was safe. There was no doubt about that. The Pyrenees Mountain range was massive—430 kilometers long. The chances of any stray Werewolves wandering upon the school and breaking through those wards were laughable. 

 

But if it was impossible, why did Hermione feel such a sense of foreboding? 

 

—

 

Laying on his bed, Scorpius opened the notification when it came across his screen, causing him to scoff as he read the message from his father.

 

Dad: James sent a letter. He said you’re a todger, and he’ll never speak to you again.

 

Dad: Oh, sorry, I didn’t see the follow-up one he also sent asking me to tell you that you’re a todger nicely, but you don’t need to send him any more howlers. I’m not sure how he expects me to call you a todger in a nice way. Lyra also sent you a howler, which I recorded for you.

 

Scorpius pressed his thumb against the screen to open the video from his father. The floating red envelope’s sharp white teeth and flickering tongue moved, but Scorpius couldn’t hear the message, even with his headphones on. 

 

Dad: I think I had my mic muted. Sorry. Basically, she told you to take a hike off a bridge for embarrassing her like that in front of her whole school, and she wanted to make sure that you didn’t send James the same message or she’d hit you with her broom. Should I write her back?

 

Shaking his head, Scorpius could perfectly hear his sister screeching like a banshee with her threats. She was like a bloody kitten and wasn’t scared to use her claws.

 

Scorp: I’ll write her and mail it to your house this weekend. Thanks for letting me know.

 

Dad: Any time.

 

Tucking his phone away, Scorpius laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, wishing his mind would settle long enough for him to nap on this fine Thursday afternoon. 

 

With football season fully underway, Scorpius was relaxing as best he could before he was expected to be at the practice field. Scorpius threw an arm over his eyes to block out the rest of the distractions, focusing on the music thrumming through his headphones. 

 

Bobbing his head to the beat, Scorpius let his thoughts wander to his goal. He was going to be the starting forward this year. He hadn’t spent the entire summer training just for it to go to Doug Alden again. Doug was a todger, as James so eloquently phrased it. 

 

Lost to the music, only the vibration of his watch alerted Scorpius that it was time to head to practice. As he sat up and stretched his arms over his head, Scorpius noted that Jeremy still hadn’t returned from his daily lessons. It wasn’t something out of the norm, as Jeremy and Noah often had a habit of leaving the school grounds to wander the town and see if they could attempt to pick up women at a local pub that let the boys go in for food and to watch football matches. 

 

At the moment, their conquests were at a collective zero.

 

Leaving his music on, Scorpius slipped into his trainers and checked his appearance in the mirror. He shook his hair to look more styled than he had just woken up before shoving a stocking cap over his head to keep his ears warm. The grey sweats hung low on his hips, and the crewneck sweater shrunk while washing, exposing his midriff to the bitter November chill as he stepped out his dorm’s front door.

 

  Fucking hell … he thought as he jumped a few times in a desperate attempt to get his blood flowing and fight off the cold. Taking off at a jog, Scorpius refused to let his teeth chatter. From his dorm to the practice field, there was only a ten-minute warm-up run, but with the temperature, Scorpius pushed himself, trying to beat his old personal record. 

 

The large white dome building came into view, and Scorpius dared to look down at the stopwatch he’d started. He was shaving off a solid three minutes from his pace, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he pushed himself, his trainers digging into the cement as he raced toward the player’s entrance. 

 

Throwing up his arms in celebration, Scorpius pumped his fist in the air, oblivious to the crowd that was gathered just inside the doors until fucking Alden stepped in his line of sight, looking Scorpius over as if he’d just greatly offended the bellend.

 

“What?” Scorpius snapped, his annoyance with the cocky seventeen-year-old rising as he pulled the headphones off so they hung around his neck. “Like something you see, Alden?” He asked, knowing Theo would be proud of him for being cheeky.

 

“Looks like you’re the last to know, as usual,” Alden said, looking Scorpius over with a scoff and an eye roll as if Scorp’s short crewneck was personally offending him. “Can’t be bothered to check the group message before you show up looking like a prick?”

 

“What the fu–”

 

“Someone left a slaughtered horse on the middle of the pitch. Blood is everywhere,” Alden explained. Before Scorpius could ask what the fuck he was going on about, Alden had his phone out with a picture already pulled up. “A few of the guys got here early and found it. The police have tapped off the entire facility.” 

 

Scorpius couldn’t hear the other boy's words as he stared at the photo on the screen. Right there on their crest at center field was exactly as Alden had described, but worse. Bile threatened to come up as Scorpius looked at the intestines pulled out from the belly of the horse as if whoever had done this to the poor creature wasn’t satisfied enough to have slayed it but wanted to mutilate it. 

 

The neck was ripped open as if something had used its teeth and torn it clean open. Some of the black mane of hair was ripped out as if whoever had done this had dragged the horse by the hair.

 

“Who…”

 

“I don’t know; the cameras were cut. Tech is still trying to see if they can recover anything, and so are the police, but all the cameras seem to have glitched and overheated simultaneously all over the city. At least, that’s what I overheard them saying. Whoever did this with an animal that size couldn’t have done it alone, sick fucks.”

As Scorpius stood there unable to say anything, a howl cut through the silence, giving him the impression that someone likely had done this alone. Someone who was more beast than man.

Notes:

“Who…”

“I don’t know; the cameras were cut. Tech is still trying to see if they can recover anything, and so are the police, but all the cameras seem to have glitched and overheated simultaneously all over the city. At least, that’s what I overheard them saying. Whoever did this with an animal that size couldn’t have done it alone, sick fucks.”

As Scorpius stood there unable to say anything, a howl cut through the silence, giving him the impression that someone likely had done this alone. Someone who was more beast than man.

Chapter 17: Lyra?

Summary:

And here we go.

Scorpius was relaxed. His basket of soggy chips sitting in front of him was picked through for the ones that were actually crisp and did not resemble limp noodles. The food was always horrendous, but he didn’t come for the overpriced pub food; he came to watch football and hang out with his mates. However, even his mates were making him question whether this was worth the sleep deprivation he felt the morning after.

 

 “I swear on all things, she’s my future wife,” Jeremy said as another bird–their words, not his–walked past the bar, her hips swaying as she carried her logger back to the table she shared with her friends. 

 

“500 pounds says she won’t even acknowledge you if you tried talking to her,” Noah said, leaning over Scorpius and spilling his drink into the old basket of chips to smack his friend in the back of the head.

 

They were so much worse than James. It was a fact. 

 

“If she speaks to me, you owe me 500 pounds!” Jeremy retorted, turning his attention to Noah, leaning over Scorpius as if he’d just become part of the furniture in the pub and wasn’t a living, breathing human trying to enjoy watching a game. 

 

“And with that, I do believe I’ll be taking my leave,” Scorpius said, pushing away from the table, plucking his mobile off the table and shoving it in his pocket.  

 

Neither boy moved to say goodbye, which didn’t surprise Scorpius as the two bicker while he pulled his coat on. Looking over at the girl the two were currently arguing over, Scorpius could only shake his head. Tall with dark hair curled in perfect waves, she was beautiful and out of his friend’s league. He wouldn’t be surprised when neither boy returned to their dorm 500 pounds wealthier because neither had the nerve to speak to the cute twenty-something-year-old and her friends. 

 

Shaking his head, Scorpius turned and headed for the exit, his nerves making him jittery as he pushed open the exit.

 

He’d been on edge since the incident with the practice field, waiting for something awful to happen. As it was, there were still no concrete answers as to why or how the poor animal had ended up on his practice field. 

 

His father and Harry had been dispatched due to the apparent involvement of the magical community, but even the Auror’s department hadn’t been able to uncover any answers. It was even more frustrating for his father because despite wanting to cut out the muggle authorities, they couldn’t. Because the story had been so large and leaked to the public before the police had become involved, they couldn’t take total jurisdiction.

 

Social media and the speed at which information traveled in the muggle world now had been a significant complaint within the ministry, according to what Scorpius had overheard from his father and Theo. It didn’t matter to Scorpius who got credit for what as long as whoever had done this was caught. 

 

The nightmares that plagued him made Scorpius feel like he was becoming a shell of himself. He wasn’t the only one on his team suffering, but unlike his teammates, none of them knew what was lurking out there was worse than anything they’d conjured in their minds.   

 

Pulling a ski cap down over his ears and pulling up the collar of his peacoat, Scorpius braved the weather, stepping out into the dimly lit street, ready to go back to the safety of his room. With the holidays coming up quickly, he was looking forward to the break, getting home, and sleeping in bed away from his schoolmates. 

 

There was some talk about Lyra and her mother returning for an extended stay. However, from Lyra’s last message, there was a possibility that Scorpius, his father, and Theo might be traveling to France instead of bringing them back to London. Scorpius was excited about potentially staying with Lyra in her seaside cottage. The cottages he’d stayed in were most likely nothing like where Lyra lived, the villas coming with an entire staff and more rooms than they could ever possibly use, heated indoor pools, and theater rooms. 

 

No, Scorpius imagined that Lyra and her mother lived much more modestly than the lavish styles his grandparents rented for him to stay in. Instead of eating under a crystal chandelier, they’d curl up in worn, comfortable chairs by a fire with mugs of coco as they talked and enjoyed each other’s company. 

 

The image he’d created carried Scorpius a few blocks until he heard a laugh that had become a distant memory these months apart. Looking around, Scorpius squinted through the dark until his eyes landed on the unmistakable white curls.

 

“Lyra?” He called out, but his sister didn’t move to turn toward him but instead continued to walk toward the alleyway. “Lyra!” Scorpius called again, jogging toward her, trying to garner her attention, but his sister didn’t turn, making Scorpius wonder if it was her. 

 

He was about to give up on the idea, deciding that it must just be someone who resembled her, when the girl turned to look at a street sign, finally giving him his sister's profile. It was unmistakably her. 

 

“Lyra, what the bloody hell are you doing?” Scorpius called, but still, there was no recognition from her, and his sister continued as if she couldn’t hear him. “Lyra! For fucks sake, what are you doing here?” 

 

The snow was slush under his boots, splashing onto his trousers as Scorpius ran, trying to catch up to his sister before she got herself thoroughly lost in the city. Having his sister wandering around where he went to school wouldn't do, especially when Lyra had a habit of finding trouble where there wasn’t any. 

 

Scorpius considered calling his dad to see if he knew why Lyra was in Eton but decided against it. His dad had just spoken to him earlier that evening about the holiday plans and had relayed the message from Lyra about visiting her family home in France. Since he hadn’t mentioned Lyra coming to visit, Scorpius assumed he wouldn’t know she was here, nor would he guess her mum knew either.

 

Lyra continued wandering, and it seemed no matter how hard Scorpius tried to catch up to her, she somehow managed to stay just far enough ahead of him that she couldn’t hear his call. 

 

With the sun fully set, the street lamps provided the only light for the street, so when Lyra turned off the main street and to an alley, Scorpius’s stomach dropped.

 

“No, no, no, bad idea,” Scorpius muttered, running, pumping his arms, pushing his body as he raced after his sister. 

 

Coming to the mouth of the alley, Scorpius lifted his hands to his mouth to call out to his sister. The world went black before he could so much as form the ‘L’ of her name.

 

—

 

Lyra peaked her head around the greenhouse corner, looking to ensure no teachers were in sight. The moon cycle was still about a week from the full moon, and had it been closer or the night before, Lyra would not have been sneaking out of school grounds to go shopping. But with it being daylight and not the full moon, here she was, sneaking away from her school with Vivi in tow to find a gift for James, flipping, Potter of all people. 

 

“And why can’t we just do the easy thing and order a gift from a catalog?” Vivi asked, voicing her complaint for not the first time since Lyra had decided on this course of action. 

 

“Because, if I’m going to send something airing on the side of illegal, I want to make sure that I take all precautions that it won’t be tracked back to me. Honestly, Vivi, have you never sent something that could take off a bloke's hand before?”

 

“No, I can’t say I haven’t because, and this is important for you to remember, I’m not insane,” Vivi answered while dutifully still following Lyra down the path and toward the rip in the wards.

 

It had been their third when the girls found it while exploring the forest surrounding the Chateau. Since then, it had come in handy a handful of times when they’d needed to leave school grounds without permission.

 

Lyra considered reporting the tear to the headmistress after the incident a few weeks prior when she’d been followed in the woods. However, given the size of the tear and how inconspicuous it was, Lyra decided against potentially getting herself in trouble for being the person who discovered it. Her school rarely believed Lyra to be an innocent bystander, which she typically wasn't until this point in her schooling career.

 

“I’m only sending him a book for the holidays. I’m just not exactly positive if it’s allowed to cross international lines. So, I will have to put a fairly powerful glamour on it to pass the checkpoints, which shouldn’t be too hard since it’s just a book.”

 

“A book that can take off his hand?”

 

“Exactly!” Lyra spun around to smile at her friend, but Vivi’s pale blue eyes narrowed. Lyra couldn’t help but laugh as she reached the large stone they used to mark where the rip was.

 

“What about not leaving school grounds because of the werewolves lurking? Hm? If you’re caught, you’ll be expelled.” Vivi continued, though Lyra only rolled her eyes. The little village carved into the mountainside was only around seven kilometers away. “I’m not coming. I’m warning you right now, Lyra Granger, I won’t risk trekking around the mountain where a werewolf might find us. I’m just not doing it.”

 

“And that’s your choice. I, however, will not be ruled by fear of a mere wizard who happens to be a werewolf. It’s ridiculous to think that anyone who’s ever been bitten is dangerous. The fact that they all have to be on a public registry only perpetuates the discrimination, making it easier to target them.”

 

Shifting her weight to squeeze through the hole in the magic, much like one would pass through iron bars with no bending or turning, Lyra was nearly out of the slot when she looked back to see Vivi standing, arms crossed and shaking her head. Rolling her eyes at her friend’s stubbornness, Lyra continued contorting her body until she stumbled out the other side. 

 

When Lyra looked back at the wall of magic blocking her view from the school grounds, all she could see was an empty expanse of forest. When she reached her hand out, Lyra paused before she could touch where the magic lay. The overwhelming feeling of turning and heading in another direction was the only indicator she noticed of the wards. With how powerful the urge to step away was, had she not known it was magic, she wouldn't have been the wiser had she not just stepped out of them. 

 

Her mother had personally seen their update, which made them nearly flawless. 

 

Shaking her wrist, Lyra smirked at the gold strands that appeared, linking her to where the rip was now hidden. It was a nifty little trick her mother had created when Lyra was a small child and would wander off and lose her mother in crowds. 

 

With it, Lyra could tether herself to the school grounds with a minor modification, rendering the ward’s deterrent properties ineffective.

 

Lyra waited for a beat, but when it was clear that Vivi would be keeping to her word and not joining her, Lyra turned into the setting sunlight, whistling to herself as she pulled the little twig from her pocket. Tapping her wand to the stick, she smiled when the new broom Theo had sent her grew in her hand.

 

Swinging her leg over the broom, Lyra looked behind her again to ensure Vivi wasn’t planning to join her. With the last of the day’s warm rays of light shining through the thick woods, Lyra took off, weaving through the trees, not wanting to waste any more time.

 

Walking, the trek to the little village could take upwards of an hour or more, depending on the harsh weather from the mountain terrain. By broom? Lyra’s smile broke over her face as she wove through the trees until she barrel-rolled onto the path that connected the school’s front gates to the village. 

 

Gripping the wood, Lyra let out a peal of laughter as she rocketed down the path clear of travelers, causing the snow to burst into a wall on either side of her from the force of her speed, blinding Lyra to anything in front of her. 

 

Magic could be the most fantastic thing.

 

Using her thighs to control the broom, Lyra let go of the handle, throwing her hands in the air, her hair whipping behind her. The harsh wind was against her face, but Lyra didn’t mind it. The freedom was worth any pain she had to endure. 

 

The village was upon her before she knew it. The ten-minute broom ride was nowhere near enough, but if she was going to have time to find and mail James his gift for Yule, she couldn’t waste time zipping around on a path being a menace to the locals. 

 

Her winter cloak wrapped around her denim-clad thighs as she swung off the broom, and her dragon-hide boots crunched the well-compacted snow under her feet as she tapped her broom to shrink it and stuck it in her back pocket. 

 

Shoving her wand in her hair, Lyra patted her pouch filled with coins, feeling relatively cheery as she took off toward the shop she’d always been warned to avoid. 

 

After a half hour and two galleons and three sickles spent, Lyra stood smiling broadly at the postmaster, inspecting the parcel she was attempting to ship internationally. 

 

“Anything with dark magic, exploitable, banned, or otherwise a risk to the magical ecosystem?” The elderly wizard asked, his dark skin raising the silver brow even more prominently against his wrinkled skin. 

 

“No sir, just a book for my friend. He fancies reading,” Lyra added, kicking herself for adding the last bit. Maybe she was laying it on a bit too thick because who in their right mind would believe a teenage boy enjoys reading? 

 

Her mother, that’s who.

 

“Mhmm,” he said, his dark eyes narrowing as he looked at her over his spectacles. 

 

Watching as he tapped his wand to the carefully wrapped and warded parcel, Lyra held her breath, hand twitching, though she made no move for it. Drawing her wand would only alert the auror department (and her mother) to her, and Lyra knew she’d undoubtedly end up in trouble over her semi-harmless prank.   

 

To her utter shock, nothing was altered as the man completed his scans.

 

“That will be one galleon for the weight to ship this internationally,” the man said, holding his hand out, clearly unwilling to send an owl until he’d received his payment. 

 

“A galleon!?” Lyra exclaimed but still dutifully extracted the gold coin from her pouch. 

 

“It’s four kilos. This will take two owls. What were you expecting? Would you like a signature that the parcel has been delivered?” He asked, plucking the coin from her hand and dropping it into his open till. 

 

Lyra opened her mouth to argue further but thought against it. James was getting his little gift that would cause nonpermanent disfiguration. Or, at least, she hoped it wasn’t permanent. The shifty shopkeeper could have been trying to make a sale.

 

“Er, no, that’s quite alright. I’m sure he’ll ring.” 

 

Two owls fluttered down from the rafters, gripping the rather large ‘book’ between them before swooping into the emerald flames in the fireplace behind the counter. 

 

A few more beats passed before Lyra realized there might be better ideas than standing around looking guilty of committing a possibly international crime. An awkward head nod with a wave of her hand that more resembled a fish flapping its fin, and Lyra was rushing out the door, the bell above the door making a clunking sound in place of the usual chime. 

 

“Mission accomplished,” Lyra murmured, rubbing her hands together and smiling as she walked back toward the path that would take her to the school and surrounding forest. Internally patting herself on the back for a job well done, Lyra whistled a holiday tune as she pulled her broom out and enlarged it. 

 

Kicking off at a speed inappropriate for a populated area, Lyra knew she sounded slightly like a lunatic with her laughter as the snow kicked up around her again, creating a perfect cyclone. James Potter would be none the wiser, and maybe he would finally admit who was the greatest. 

 

Lost in her thoughts of revenge, Lyra didn’t notice the shadowy figure standing in the center of the path as she approached in her snow cloud until she’d already run into the man. Her broom spiraled out of her grasp and into the forest as Lyra rolled in the snow. 

 

Yellow glowing eyes were all Lyra saw before she heard the spell she had no chance of stopping.

 

“Stupefy.”

Notes:

I was going to add an author's note, but I don't have the brainpower to write one well.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter and subscribe for updates!

Chapter 18: Granger! Spt!

Hermione sat with her head bent over her desk, her quill flying over the parchment as she approved an expansion of the proposed additional wards for Beauxbatons. 

 

Earlier that week, a report came through that there had been a break in the pre-existing wards, indicating that an intruder had made their way onto the grounds. There was no answer as to who it was or what their purpose for breaking onto the grounds had been, but with the recent activity, the school administration had cause for concern.

 

Despite the school’s administration brushing off the intrusion as one of the students sneaking a boyfriend or girlfriend onto the grounds, Hermione had doubts. She’d wanted to reach out to Lyra to ask if she’d noticed any bizarre happenings at school that might be cause for concern, but in the end, Hermione had decided against it.

 

Her daughter tended to be overly excitable and then get herself in trouble because she knew trouble was brewing. She was too much like Hermione in that regard, never able to leave anything alone. 

 

A cough echoed through her office when Hermione leaned back and closed her eyes. She cracked one eye and glanced toward her opened door. When she saw no one standing waiting for her, Hermione closed her eyes again, her mind wandering back to what Lyra could be up to when she heard a voice she was not expecting.

 

“Granger! Spt!” Theo’s hissing voice had Hermione’s eyes snapping open and her neck on a swivel.

 

“What the bloody…” She trailed off, seeing no sign of the wizard despite being positive that she’d heard his voice.

 

“You silly witch over here. The fireplace!” 

 

Hermione twirled around, her mouth hanging open, as she looked at the green floating head that most certainly did belong to Theodore Nott. However, there was only one problem.

 

“How the bloody hell are you on an international floo call to a restricted network!?” Hermione scolded, her hands gripping her hips as she looked the man over. “You’re not supposed to be able to call me here.”

 

The perplexed look that Theo gave her as if to say really , was enough for Hermione to roll her eyes and accept defeat. If there was one thing she’d been reminded of recently, it was not to doubt Theo or question him regarding matters that toed the line between legal and downright criminal. 

 

“Fine, don’t tell me, but what do you need?” She asked, letting out a huff of air, blowing a curl that had come free from her braid out of her eyes.

 

“We need help with Scorpius,” Theo said, causing Hermione’s stomach to drop. 

“What’s wrong? Is he okay? He’s not hurt, is he?” She asked, the fear evident in her voice as she rushed to the fireplace, kneeling so that she was at eye level with Theo’s floating head.

 

“He’s physically fine, but…” Theo trailed off. She could see how his jaw tightened at the memory, even in Theo's mirage. “There was an incident at his practice field. Draco and Potter are working the case with the muggle authorities, but their hands are somewhat tied. If you could–”

 

“Move out of the way and keep the connection. I have some international powder somewhere around here,” Hermione said. 

 

Turning away from the hearth, Hermione moved to her desk and began to dig through the drawers. The unspeakable, who had concocted the special floo powder for her, had instructed her that it was for emergencies only, with only enough for two, maybe three trips. Hermione dignified that if something had happened to Scorpius, this was emergency enough. 

 

Once she’d found the small black leather pouch, Hermione opened it and shook the bag, admiring the emerald powder, strands of silver streaking through it with subtle movement. 

 

When Hermione tossed the powder in the flames, she called Draco’s home address and stepped through.

 

“What happened?” Hermione asked, brushing the soot off her navy skirt suit before looking over where Theo was standing. His eyes widened as he watched her approach him as if something had finally shocked him enough to make him speechless. “You aren’t the only one with tricks, Theodore. Now, where’s Scorpius, and what happened?”

 

Blinking a few more times, Theo finally shook his head, his flat curls flopping across his forehead. As Hermione looked him over, it was obvious that he hadn’t been sleeping well, most likely due to whatever was happening with his son.

 

“There was a dead animal found on his practice field,” Theo said at last. “It was too public of an incident for the Ministry to be able to obliviate any witnesses, and now…Well, I need wards placed around his dorm and his classes. Draco and Potter found traces of magic on the scene, but…”

 

“The Ministry’s hands are tied because it had already leaked onto the muggle news,” Hermione finished, nodding her head. 

 

Looking at Theo now that they were in the flesh, Hermione could see how much stress the wizard had been under. His hair was unkempt, a drastic change from his usual ideally kept bouncing curls. Dark circles she hadn’t seen since becoming reacquainted with him over the summer were pronounced, making it evident that he hadn’t slept in days.

 

Her feet moved of their own accord, floating over the plush rug until she stood before him, and her arms were around his shoulders. Pulling his head down to her chest, Theo’s body froze with the comforting move. When Hermione thought she might have overstepped, readying herself to pull away, Theo threw his arms around her waist, and his body began to shake with his tears.

 

“I’m so fucking scared,” Theo sobbed into her blouse, soaking through the fabric as he gripped her as if she were a lifeline. “If anything happens–”

 

“I won’t let anything happen to him,” Hermione murmured, tilting her head so that she rested her cheek on the top of his head. “I swear, I won’t let anything happen to Scorpius.”

 

—

 

“The lead has gone cold,” Potter said, sinking down into the seat behind Draco. Draco shook his head in the negative, trying to get the chosen one to stop with the bullshit. 

 

He could not drop this case, not when his son was the only connection between the magical world and Eton. 

 

“Malfoy, maybe we need to just–”

 

“Just what, Potter?” Draco snapped, turning around to glare at the boy wonder. “Use my son as bait to see who else comes sniffing around? See what other deplorable shit they’re willing to do to the campus? Maybe they’ll skip an animal and go straight for Scorpius! Really get their point across!” 

 

In his outburst, the wall they’d been using to lay out their evidence had exploded, sending shards of parchment and scraps of photographs into the air. The burnt pieces floated around the room, and Draco cursed at his accidental magic.

 

“Sorry,” Draco grumbled, not feeling even slightly sorry for shouting at Potter. 

 

“Mate, we’ve got to think like Aurors, with our heads and not our emotions,” Potter said, standing up and clasping Draco on the shoulder. 

 

Even though there was no longer any animosity between the two wizards anymore, Draco still shrugged off the hand. He didn’t want to be comforted by Harry fucking Potter. 

 

“I’m going home; see if Theo’s figured out anything useful,” Draco mumbled, not bothering to be careful as he stomped his way out of the room, throwing open the door so that the conference room's windows rattled. He didn’t slow his pace as he strolled through the DMLE and to the Auror department’s private floo entrance. 

 

Not bothering to be conservative with how much floo powder Draco was using, he threw a handful into the low-burning logs, calling out his home address. 

 

The emerald flames engulfed him, and Draco was instantly through the fire and into his sitting room. Ducking his head, Draco brushed his fringe out of his eyes and stood, ready to call out to Theo, when he froze. 

 

There, in the middle of his sitting room in London, England was none other than Hermione Granger…a witch he knew was supposed to be in Paris, France, sitting in her office signing approval for additional wards to be added to his daughter’s school. Draco had paid the school’s administration enough to send in the request that it should be happening. 

 

However, if she was here…

 

“Is Lyra okay?” Draco blurted out, causing Theo and Hermione to turn their attention to him. 

 

“Lyra’s fine,” Hermione said, turning to face him. The gold flecks in her eyes seemed as if they were blazing, and the fierce air about her as she stood watching him took Draco’s breath away. “Theo told me what happened at Eton.”

 

Turning his attention to his husband, Draco’s heart cracked at what he saw. With red-rimmed eyes, he knew Theo had been suffering. He’d been diving into every back alley lead, hunting down the darkest wizards they were still acquainted with, searching for any clue that might lead to who had threatened their son. 

 

“So what are you doing here then?” Draco asked, adjusting his stance as he looked at the witch still holding his husband’s hand.

 

“We’re going to campus tonight; I’ll set wards everywhere Scorpius spends his time. I have one that I can use that will keep anyone who wants to cause harm specifically to him. It’ll also work on muggles, so if he has any ill-willed classmates, they won’t be able to get to him.”

 

“Hermione…” Draco trailed off, but she held her hand and shook her head. 

 

“No, it’s fine,” Hermione said, cutting in. “I love him, he’s Lyra’s brother. Just like I would do anything for her, I would do the same for Scorpius. It doesn’t matter if he’s my biological son or not.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Draco said, the words tumbling from his mouth without his permission. With the damn now broken, it was as if Draco couldn’t stop himself from letting every confession and every apology spill. “I’m sorry about everything that happened; I should never have married Astoria. I can’t apologize too much, though, because without her, I wouldn’t have Scorpius.”

 

“Draco–” Hermione tried to say, but Draco shook his head, cutting her off this time. Walking up to her, he took her hands, intertwining Theo’s fingers.

 

“I still love you, Hermione,” Draco whispered, desperate for her to understand how much she meant to him. “I’m still completely and utterly and madly in love with you, and I don’t think I ever stopped even when I thought–” his breath caught, unable to say the words.

 

Theo’s free arm wrapped around Draco’s shoulders in support and solidarity. Leaning into his husband’s touch, Draco managed to build the courage to look into the dark brown eyes that still made him feel at home. 

 

“I never stopped loving you, Hermione.”

 

Tears fell down his cheeks, but Draco did nothing to stop them as they dripped off his chin. He’d fucked up, he’d allowed his father to control him with fear, and because he was a man obsessed, he’d never considered just how much hurt he would cause her when he showed up at her house the night before his wedding. 

 

He’d been selfish and unwilling to see past his pain as to what he was doing when he had blasted down her door.  

 

“I’m sorry too,” Hermione said. Her gaze never wavered as she looked at him, being the brave and bold Gryffindor through and through. “I should never have kept Lyra from you,” she said, tears of her building in her eyes. “I should have told you about her, given you a chance to prove yourself instead of assuming the worst.”

 

“Love,” Draco said, lifting their clasped hands to brush away the tears. “You did what you had to; you protected her.”

 

Hermione shook her head, sending a few loose curls flying around her face as she continued to cry. 

 

“We all made mistakes,” Draco said, leaning in so his forehead pressed against hers. “All that matters is that we’re together now and can fix it. Move forward together.”

 

Hermione nodded against him. When Draco thought his heart would explode at her closeness, Hermione managed to shock him again and pressed her lips against his. 

 

His eyes flew open, and Draco couldn’t stop staring at Hermione’s beautiful face. Her eyes were closed, her thick dark lashes wet from her tears, and her face flushed from the rollercoaster of emotions she’d been through. 

 

She was perfect and everything he’d ever wanted. 

 

Beside him, Draco heard Theo suck in a breath and do a quiet cheer.

 

Ready to take things to the next step, Draco reached up and wove his fingers into the braid, enjoying the feeling of her curls twisted around him once again.

 

The buzzing of his phone in his back pocket had Draco letting out a curse, desperately wanting to ignore it and continue down this path with his witch while at the same time knowing it might be something to do with work or Scorpius. Pulling away, Draco closed his eyes, revelling in her warmth for another moment when he answered the call.

 

“Mr. Malfoy? This is Mr. Paltiel with Eton.”

 

“Mr. Paltiel, yes, hi, what’s going on?” Draco said, his mood shifting from thoughts of stripping his witch and exploring every piece of her body with his tongue to fears for his son. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, I’m afraid to say it’s not. Scorpius has–”

 

“Scorpius has what?” Draco snapped, interrupting the man, his heart racing in his chest. “He’s not hurt, is he? I can be right there; I’m actually in town. It would be no trouble at all to come to campus.”

 

“That might be for the best, actually, Mr. Malfoy. You see, I’m not sure how this happened, but Scorpius is missing.” Mr. Paltiel said, his tone laced with fear. Fearing Scorpius’s safety or what Draco and Theo might do to him once they got their hands on the man, Draco wasn’t sure.

 

“We’ll be right there,” Draco said, his voice turning to ice as he disconnected the call.

 

Looking at Hermione and Theo, who had been close enough to hear everything, Draco was thankful that he didn’t have to explain. The trio was gathering, ready to apparate to the apparition point Draco and Theo had established when Scorpius first began at Eton when a silver dove fluttered in through the open window.

 

“Ms. Hermione!” A younger female voice with a heavy French accent cried out from the bird. “Ms. Hermione! You’ve got to come quickly!” The girl cried, her message hard to understand through her sobbing.

 

The dove floated there, and the only sound it made was the girl’s hysterics. Draco could feel his blood running cold at what he knew was about to come next.

 

“Someone’s kidnapped Lyra; she’s gone! Ms. Hermione, Lyra is gone!”

Chapter 19: Watch Me

Summary:

The children have been kidnapped, and now their parents are on the hunt.

Lyra’s head felt like it weighed a thousand kilos, but seeing as her neck was still attached, that couldn’t be the case. Whatever the bloody hell she’d gotten hit with was more than the run-of-the-mill stunning spell from Vivi to stop her from sneaking off the grounds.

 

Lyra blinked, or at least thought she had, as she tried to orient herself. Her lids felt as if they were glued shut, and the darkness that she was cast in made it impossible to have any indication of where she might be.

 

Panic surged, and Lyra began to shuffle when a warm hand grasped her wrist.

 

“Who–” she started, but the hand squeezed her in warning.

 

She opened her mouth to protest, demanding who dared to touch her, when a voice she recognized whispered, “We’re not alone.”

 

“Scorpius?” She breathed, turning her head toward where the voice had come from.

 

Another squeeze of his hand was all the reply he was willing to give her, enough to placate her but not enough to draw attention to themselves. 

 

As Lyra waited for the spell impairing her vision to wear off, Lyra’s ears pricked, picking up every tiny sound, her senses desperate for anything to key into.

 

There was a drip, though, be it rain coming in or a tap not being closed all the way, Lyra couldn’t tell. Boots were scuffing the ground, occasionally accented by a growl or a snort, making Lyra wonder if whoever was guarding them might not be sleeping while they waited for whoever was in charge to appear.

 

Through it all, Scorpius never released her wrist, as if he were craving contact with her as much as she needed reassurance. 

 

Slowly, Lyra’s eyes began to open. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, clutching her brother’s hand, but it had been enough time that the magic had begun to loosen its hold. Her bladder protested, screaming at her, and Lyra had to bite back a whimper. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Scorpius asked, clearly having heard her.

 

“Nothing,” Lyra said, her cheeks warming at her brother’s observation. Merlin, this was mortifying. Not only had she been kidnapped, but now here she was, about to wee herself while tied to a chair next to her brother, who had also been kidnapped.

 

“You sure?” He asked, still trying to keep his voice low even though their guard's snoring filled the room. “I thought I heard you crying?”

 

“Well, duh, I’m crying,” Lyra said, shifting in her seat to try and relieve the pressure on her bladder. “We’ve been kidnapped and tied up by I don’t know who, and for however long we end up here. We could die, and our parents might never know what happened to us!”

 

“Right,” Scorpius said, his voice sounding a little more high-pitched, and he felt slightly embarrassed or didn’t know what to do with a crying female.

 

“What happened?” Lyra asked, shifting her focus as she glanced at what she could make out in the poorly lit room. “How did they get you?”

 

“Someone looked like you; I thought you were at Eton and followed them into an alley…” Scorpius trailed off. When Lyra looked at her brother, her eyes were wide and brows raised. When she didn’t say anything, Scorpius shifted uncomfortably the best he could with the bindings. “I was confused why you’d be in Eton without telling me. What were you doing when they caught you?”

 

Lyra could feel her cheeks heating at the memory of the gift she’d snuck off school grounds to send to James. A flash of curiosity, wondering if he still had all his limbs intact, went through her mind, but Lyra dismissed it quickly. This wasn’t the time or place to be thinking about James Potter.

 

“I got stopped on the road back to school. Never saw them coming,” Lyra murmured, her eyes locking on the ropes binding her ankles to the chair. “I should have been more aware, but–” 

 

A door opening had the teens cutting off their conversation as they heard multiple people heading their way. The guard in the room must not have because his snores continued, even as the footsteps approached the small space. 

 

Lyra squirmed against the ropes, but it did nothing to her aside from making her wrists sore and cutting into her skin. The fear that had been simmering before now had Lyra’s body trembling as she nervously looked around, desperate to find any way to spare herself and Scorpius from whoever was about to walk through that door. 

 

When the door opened, Lyra’s eyes slammed shut as a bright green light filled the room. 

 

“Sleeping on the job,” a gruff voice tsked as he stepped into the room, presumably stepping over the now-dead guard. “Always knew he wouldn’t make it.” 

 

Lyra could see a softer yellow glowing light filling the space through her closed lids, but Lyra didn’t open her eyes, terrified of who she was about to come face to face with. 

 

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Another man spoke. Lyra bit back the gag as the rancid breath filled her nose. It was as if she were facing a carcass sitting out in the sun for days. Leathery fingers gripped her chin so tightly when he tilted her head up, and she had no choice but to allow it. “A couple of Malfoys, hm, that should be good enough bait.”

 

“Take your hands off her!” Scorpius snapped, his voice filled with an air of arrogance and entitlement. Lyra wanted to grip his hand in warning to watch how he spoke to their captures, but it was useless. She was good and truly trapped.

 

The sound of bone breaking and something clattering to the ground had Lyra opening her eyes to where her brother now lay unconscious on the floor next to her. Lyra hadn’t realized she had started screaming until a filthy gag was shoved in her mouth, cutting off the sound. 

 

“Wake him up,” the man still holding her ordered. “We need to send a message to their parents with proof of life. Wouldn’t do to have them thinking the squib is dead.”

 

“Could be more enticing if he was…” the other man grumbled but still pulled out his wand.

 

“The contract states we can’t kill a Malfoy in our efforts. Though when old Lucius wrote it, I’d wager he didn’t know he would have a squib and a mudblood for heirs.”

 

“Shame the old todger’s still pulling the strings from the grave.” 

 

With her eyes now adjusted to the light, Lyra studied her captors. The one closest to her, the man she presumed was in charge, had long silver hair that hung midway down his back. His clothes were tattered, but not what one would see as normal wear and tear. No, it looked as if he had gone into the forest and went toe to toe with a bear and won. Ugly scars marred his face, and his tanned skin made it seem like he never spent time indoors. Everything about him was filthy, from his brow to his nails; she wouldn’t have been shocked if he hadn’t bathed in months. 

 

The other man was about a head shorter; his nose had been broken and healed wrong. When he bared his teeth at her, Lyra almost fell over in shock at the razor-sharp elongated canines he showed her. 

 

“Who are you?” she asked around the gag, sounding more like a gargled mess. Even as Scorpius was slowly returning to consciousness, she could not tear her eyes away from the two men. 

 

The sinister barking laugh from the man had Lyra cowering away, but with nowhere to go, the man…no, not a man. The werewolf hovered over her, showing off his pointed teeth. 

 

“The monster who is going to murder your mother.” 

 

—

 

Draco stormed through the DMLE, the magic coming off him as he moved through the department, keeping everyone at bay. He was fearful of getting in the way of the raging wizard. 

 

“What did they say?” Potter asked, poking his head out of the large corner office he’d been gifted when he’d been promoted. 

 

“Because Scorpius is a squib, he’s out of our jurisdiction, and they refuse to funnel any resources into his search and rescue because there’s no proof of magical involvement,” Draco said, pulling his DMLE badge from his hip. Slamming it onto Potter’s desk didn’t give him the satisfaction that he had hoped, but all Draco could think about was what was happening to Lyra and Scorpius. “And since Lyra was kidnapped in France, they won’t start an international incident over one teenager.”

 

“Sorry, come again?” Potter asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. Draco had to admire the man, and he’d unwillingly formed an odd sort of comradery due not only in part to their sons but also to being partners with him all these years. “They’re not willing to do anything ?” 

 

“That’s what they said; Scorpius isn’t a magical citizen, even if his parents all are.”

 

Looking at Potter now, Draco could see the storm brewing behind those stupid glasses he still insisted on wearing. It was easy to see how the wizard had defeated the Dark Lord when Potter got like this, being a reckless Gryffindor and wearing every emotion on his sleeve. 

 

“Meet me at the pub,” Potter said, causing Draco to raise a confused brow at the man. There had only been a handful of times they’d ever exchanged that phrase, reserving it for the most difficult cases when they were going to have to toe the line of legal.

 

Without another word, Potter disappeared through the floo, the emerald flames licking at his heels. Left alone in the office, Draco shook his head, not wanting to give the savior of the wizarding world another thought. He needed to get home, where Granger and Theo were waiting for him and whatever answers he had.

 

Feeling bleak and like a failure, Draco pulled the floo powder Potter had left behind and called out to his home address. Whatever connections he had, he would have to call in every favor he’d incurred over the years. Theo would have some insight into what to do. Draco had willfully turned a blind eye to all of Theo’s questionable activities due to his career as an Auror; Draco knew Theo had maintained some of those relationships with dark wizards. 

 

And Granger…

 

Draco didn’t know exactly what she was involved in, but he could assume she had some powerful allies with her position with the Ministry of Magical Affairs of France. 

 

Stepping out of the hearth, Draco was shocked to find his home empty. The only clues left behind by his husband and Granger were the maps and tracking crystals that he hadn’t realized Theo had kept from his father’s collection of dark artifacts. 

 

The problem with the tracking crystals was that they showed where all your enemies gathered. Draco studied the world map that Theo and Granger used before going on a hunt. Hundreds of pins were scattered across the map, and Draco wondered who Theo might have quarreled with in Antarctica…

 

When the hearth came to life again, Draco looked up to find his husband dripping with blood and a scowl on his face. 

 

“What happened?” Draco asked, rushing to Theo, waving his wand as he scanned the man, looking for any signs of injury on the brunette wizard. Relief washed over him as he confirmed that none of the blood on Theo was his, but that still left Draco with questions. 

 

“That coven of Romanian vampires I told you I met a few years ago?” Draco nodded, knowing that there had been more to Theo’s story than he’d been told at the time. “There was a rumour that they had gotten back into kidnapping children and changing them to build their numbers. I wanted to check in to see if they’d gotten any stupid ideas.” 

 

“And…” Draco prompted, the hope in his chest dying as Theo shook his head. 

 

“Nothing, I’m sorry,” Theo kept his voice low, as if he were afraid speaking too loud might break Draco. “We’ll keep looking. I have more leads, and Granger is off doing scary Granger, negotiating with the French, and organizing a manhunt. She has a theory, and I’m inclined to agree with her.” Stepping toward Draco, Theo reached out to him. When Draco didn’t respond, Theo continued. 

 

“She believes the children are together and that it’s likely a trap.”

 

“A trap for who?” Draco asked, accepting the comforting touch from Theo and leaning into it for support. 

 

“For us, one of us or all of us. We’ve got a lot of enemies still, Drake.”

 

“I can see that,” Draco joked, gesturing toward the map. “Is that all three of us or just you?”

 

“Just me and Granger. You clean up after yourself too well, and I couldn’t find a spare hair to tie to the crystal. If you can believe it, Granger and I have a lot of overlapping enemies. I started there, but it came up empty.”

 

“Granger knows your Romanian Vampires?” Draco asked, stepping to the crystal as he plucked a hair from his head.

 

“Oh yes, apparently, they aren’t a big fan of hers after she went over to collect import taxes from them. Emptied their coffers after they skipped paying for a few thousand years; she was the only curse breaker mad enough to go collect.”

 

Despite having more questions than answers from Theo’s explanation, any other comments Draco might have had were cut off as a cracking sound came from the back garden. Rushing through the house, Draco flung the door open in time to find Potter and Granger wrestling on the ground with an unknown man.

 

“Malfoy! Stun him!” Potter yelled as the man’s fist made contact with his jaw. “Now!” Potter's shouts were distorted, his jaw most likely broken or dislocated, but Draco didn’t waste another moment, pulling his wand, aiming and hitting the man.

 

Draco could finally take in Granger as she stood with the thrashing man subdued, straightening out the brown leathers she had changed into since the last time he’d seen her. She had a swollen eye and a bloodied lip, her carefully braided hair a mess of twigs, as if she had been rolling around in the forest wrestling this man.

 

Anger rolled through him, pulling Draco through the doorway and out to where Granger was standing. He had to push aside the urge to pull her into his chest and instead focus solely on the witch standing before him.

 

“What happened?” He asked, his teeth clenched as he looked over the leathers hugging her curves, causing his blood to boil. Draco shook his head, keeping his rage at the forefront of his mind, not wanting his lust to override his concern. “You were supposed to be making a report with your boss, not out with bloody Potter hunting down suspects!” 

 

Her indignation, which Draco had seen so often when they’d been in school, began to flare up, but Draco refused to back down. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that the kids were kidnapped as soon as it was revealed to the world that you weren’t dead? Do you not understand the danger you were putting yourself in!?”

 

“My kids are out there! Do you think I’m going to be content sitting in a conference room making plans and not hitting the ground to help with the search?” Granger shouted, not backing down as she stepped toward Draco. “I found a lead, and I followed it. I contacted Harry for help–”

 

“Why not me!?” Draco accused, crowding her space, but Granger didn’t move. “Why not call me?”

 

“Because he was already in France! I wasn’t going to bother you–”

 

“It’s not a bother,” Draco growled, dropping his head so that he was at eye level with Granger. “Nothing to do with you will ever be a bother.”

 

With Granger so close, Draco felt intoxicated, and any control that he’d so carefully held onto was slipping. Her lips were so close, and Draco took what he wanted from his witch when they parted. 

 

A moan slipped from her, making Draco feel feral with his need for her. He needed her. He needed to claim, mark, and ensure Granger would never again question his desire and need for her. 

 

A cough from beside him had Draco doubling his efforts with his witch wanting to drown out the annoyance that was Harry Fucking Potter, but the bloody boy who refused to die just continued to make his presence more known until Draco was left with no choice but to scowl at him.

 

“Sorry, just, I think the bloke is waking up, so…”

 

“Right, interrogation!” Theo called from close behind, scurrying past Draco and leaning right into Granger to steal a quick snog for himself. “Merlin, I love you,” Theo said. 

 

Granger gave a weak smile, her eyes filled with sadness briefly before hardening again. 

 

“Theo, do you have the Veritaserum?” Granger asked, stepping forward and crouching beside the wizard, who was beginning to stir. 

 

“Already ahead of you,” the chaotic wizard said, reaching out with a small vial and dumping the entirety of the contents in the man’s mouth. “That should loosen his lips. Who is he anyway, Granger? How did you find him?”

 

“He’s been the one who’s been stalking Beauxbatons and trying to break onto the grounds. Some of the wards I placed also track who comes and who goes from the school. This fellow made it all too easy for me to find him. Draco, if you could wake him, I’d like to ask him a few questions.”

 

Draco stood in his garden with his wand loosely held in his hand, nodding at Granger’s request. Her talents never ceased to amaze him, and the foresight she’d had when it came to protecting not only their daughter but the entire school. 

 

With a flick of his wrist, Draco woke the man. While he was still groggy, Draco shot a second spell in his direction, wrapping him in enchanted ropes and chains so the wizard couldn’t move.

 

“Tell me your name,” Granger asked, crouching in front of the man as his head lolled, the remnants of the stunning spell fading away.

 

“Fuck you, cunt,” he said, his voice sounding like gravel but with a clearly English accent. 

 

Standing upright, Granger turned to Theo, whose face was grim, and his eyes narrowed. “Werewolf, yes?”

 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t have known I’d given him about fifty doses. Explains why he was so hard to subdue, too.”

 

“Then what are we going to do with him?” Potter asked, pushing his glasses up his nose as he stood behind the werewolf, his wand pointed at the back of his head. “Veritaserum and Legilimency won’t work on him.”

 

“I have my ways,” Theo admitted, causing Draco’s stomach to turn at the memories of Theo’s ways and how he’d learned them at the hands of his father. 

 

Hell was too good of a place for Thoros Nott. 

 

“There’s no time for that,” Granger said, reaching out a hand to stop Theo from advancing. 

 

“But–”

 

“No, I’ve been working on something. Haven’t tested it, but I have a theory,” Granger explained, rolling her sleeves as she again approached the werewolf kneeling in the grass while glaring up at her. “It’s not going to be pleasant, so it’s up to you if you want to risk me ripping through your mind or not.”

 

“Granger…” Draco growled, not wanting to pull her away from the interrogation and show any signs of weakness in front of their prisoner, but his concern for her safety was rising. “I don’t–”

 

“Well?” Granger asked the unknown wizard again, hands on her hips and bossy as ever. “It’s your choice. Tell me where my children are, or I’ll destroy you and leave you as a husk.”

 

“Do your worst,” the man said, a broad smile spreading across his face to show off rows of decaying teeth. “My lycanthropy will wreck your mind before you can find anything. You’ll go mad before you find anything. Not even the Dark Lord himself got into my head. I’d like to see a little girl like you try.”

 

When he spat, hitting Granger in the face, Draco felt all semblance of his self-control snap as he launched himself at the man, forgoing his wand and instead choosing to fight like a muggle with his fist. 

 

Theo must have had the same thought because it wasn’t only Draco pounding into the pathetic creature now cowering and whimpering as Draco and Theo continued to pummel him. When Draco was finally pulled away, Theo came back with him, and he could feel his knuckles aching from hitting a werewolf.

 

The only solace was that the man’s face was now unrecognizable, swaying where he was still knelt. 

 

As if she were a witch of death, Granger descended upon him. When her lips were near the wolf’s ear, Draco felt a cold shiver go up his spine when she whispered, “Watch me.” She pressed her wand against his temple, and the werewolf's previous resistance melted away as his body slumped over. 

 

“He’s right, you know,” Theo said, a quiver in his voice as they watched the two prone bodies, a war between them raging in the werewolf’s mind. “She could lose her mind doing this…”

 

“She won’t,” Draco said, his voice steady, but he could still feel the tremor in his hand as he pointed it toward his witch, ready to jump in and pull her out. “She gets one minute, then we’re releasing the spell.”

 

The seconds seemed to tick by as they watched, Granger’s face impassive as the wolf began to thrash against his bindings. A howl came loose, and Draco’s eyes widened as the subconscious fighting continued. With his mind under attack, the wolf within struggled to break free, but whatever Granger was doing to him seemed to hold him steady.

 

“Come on…” Draco heard Potter say, but he couldn’t glance at the man as he watched his witch continue to fight to hold control.

 

“It’s been a minute, Draco!” Theo yelled, but Draco stopped Theo when he attempted to intervene. “What are you doing!? We’ve got to pull her out!”

 

“She’s winning; we can’t, not yet.” 

 

The man’s body began bucking. All sound from him ceased beyond the little whimpers of pain as if he’d lost the use of speech. As Draco watched the fight leaving the man’s body, Draco wondered if this might not be worse than receiving a dementor’s kiss. 

 

When Granger’s body collapsed on the ground, Draco could no longer hold Theo back as he rushed to their unconscious witch’s side. 

 

“No, no, no!” Theo cried, his wand moving rapidly in intricate patterns as he attempted to revive the witch. “No, please, wake up, Hermione. You’ve got to wake up!” 

 

Draco stood in shock, tears streaming down his face. He was frozen in place as he watched his witch and wizard huddle together while Theo continued his efforts.

 

“Is she…is she gone?” Potter asked, his voice cracking with his hardly contained emotion.

 

Draco fell to his knees, crawling toward Granger and Theo until he was able to pull them both into his lap as Theo continued to sob. “Come on, you stubborn witch,” Draco hissed, tilting Granger’s chin. Her neck was weak, and her skin was turning ice cold. “We just got you back. We can’t lose you again, Hermione…” Draco choked out, gripping her shoulder. 

 

As if the sound of her name falling from his lips was all it took to summon her, Granger’s eyes opened as the witch gasped for air. The color that had begun to fade from her cheeks was returning, and all Draco and Theo wanted to do was wrap her in an embrace and never release her again.

 

As Draco pulled them both into his chest, Granger pushed away, looking first at him and then Theo, ceasing any advancement on the wizards’ part. 

 

“I know where they are,” she whispered, the meaning of the words sinking in as she turned to look up where Potter was still standing over the comatose wizard. “I know where the children are.”

Notes:

Shout out to my babes, CeilidhChaos and Emotionalsupporthufflepuff for the alpha/beta work as always.

Only 3 more chapters left; next up is the showdown we've all been waiting for.

Chapter 20: She had to get to them.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Lyra said, tilting her chin up in defiance, though she knew she was only asking for more trouble as she watched the werewolves gathering behind their alpha, his bloodlust egging his pack on. “She’s going to kill you.”

 

His barking laugh echoed off the walls while the rest of his pack stayed silent, knowing their leader’s temper was not to be tested.

 

“A mudblood? Kill me?” He asked, his golden eyes glowing as if they were the moon. “She’s already tired,” he sneered, pulling aside the collar of his shirt to reveal burn scars running down his collarbone, disappearing beneath the fabric of his shirt. “It’s about time I get my payback for what she’s done to me.”

 

“If anything, she’s improved your looks,” Lyra quipped, the nerves flowing through her making her more chatty. “You really should be thanking her–” Lyra’s sentence was cut off as the man backhanded her, snapping her head to the side and causing blood to fill her mouth. 

 

She glared up at the man, the smile he flashed with his pungent breath and rotting teeth doing nothing but causing her stomach to roll. Leaning in closer, Lyra tried to turn her face away, but his hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to keep eye contact with him.

 

“My contract says that I can’t kill a Malfoy; that doesn’t mean I can’t do other things.”

 

The sound of his dark cloak shifting as he reached for his pants had Lyra squirming, trying to do anything she could to break free. He held her firm, though, as if it were no effort for him to control her movements. His touch was cold, and her magic screamed for her to fight. 

 

“You can’t!” She shouted, still trying to twist out of his grip. 

 

“I can,” he growled, his nose pressing into the crook of her neck. Beside them, Scorpius was making a racket, his voice muted by the gag one of the pack members had shoved in his mouth after they’d woken him. “I’ll let your squib brother watch; send a video of me shredding your virgin cunt apart to your mummy and daddy.”

 

“NO!” Lyra screamed, tears streaming down her cheeks as the monster freed himself. She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks as Scorpius tried to fight the magic holding him in place.

 

Lyra recoiled at the werewolf’s touch, but it didn’t deter him. It seemed as though it were more enticing than anything as his smile widened, and the barking chuckles from his pack sounded behind him.

 

Fighting, Lyra shook her head, doing everything within her power to keep the werewolf from reaching for the clasps of her pants. The salt from her tears slipped into her mouth as Lyra fought, doing anything she could to deter the wolf, but it seemed only to spur him on. 

 

“Please…” Lyra begged, her eyes trained toward the dark ceiling.

 

As the calloused fingers brushed her midriff, the warehouse shook, and it was as if Circe's wrath had rained down upon them. A slab of stone fell from the dark abyss and crushed one of the wolves standing away from them.

 

“She’s here!” The leader shouted, turning away, and any thoughts of Lyra were slashed from his mind. “Positions!” He shouted, running toward the exit, ignoring his fallen lackey. 

 

As the warehouse shook again, Lyra looked at Scorpius, her eyes wide in understanding who had just arrived.

 

—

 

Hermione’s heart pounded in her chest as she stood before Draco and Theo, slashing her wand in the air as she worked to dismantle the wards keeping her from her children. Her adrenaline pulsed through her veins, her magic sparking off her skin, but it didn’t warm her. No, it was a cold and steely kind of magic, taking the shape of her urgency and desperation to get to her children, causing her to be more reckless than usual. 

 

She had to get to them.

 

She couldn’t fail.

 

As she broke apart the wards, Hermione felt the steady, silent presence of Draco and Theo behind her. This kept her mind clear as she muttered the spells and moved as quickly as possible. Letting out a breath, Hermione closed her eyes as she gathered her magic and pushed it forward, shattering the wards as they burst into the air.

 

“Let’s go!” Draco barked, his voice cold but commanding, as he rushed past Hermione, his wand held out in front of him. Hermione didn’t need to be told twice, rushing toward the warehouse in the distance with Theo beside her. Draco’s spell shot toward the warehouse, blasting the large metal doors off their hinges with such a booming sound that the ground beneath her feet shook. 

 

As they stepped through the hole, Hermione looked around, unable to see more than what the moonlight shone on the ground before them. 

 

“What now?” Theo asked beside her, his breath heavy as he brushed his dark curls from his face. “Do we split up?” He asked, looking between his partners. 

 

“Yes,” Hermione answered just as Draco opened his mouth to argue; she held up a hand, stopping him. “We have to find them. Whoever finds them, send a Patoruns, and we’ll come together.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Draco pressed, stepping toward her, his grey eyes storming as he narrowed them on her. “I’m not risking you. You don’t know what we’re walking into, and we’re not going anywhere without backup.” 

 

As Hermione bristled, ready to rebuke Draco’s argument, a barking laugh echoed off the crumbling building, pulling Hermione’s attention down one of the long, dark halls. As she looked toward where the sound had come from, multiple yellow glowing eyes shone through the darkness.   

 

“You think you can save them, Granger?” A gruff voice, dripping with disdain, growled, causing a chill to crawl up her spine. 

 

As the werewolf stepped into the dim light, Hermione’s hand tightened around her wand as she took in who had kidnapped her children. 

 

“Fenrir Greyback, and here I thought you had done the world a favor and died,” Hermione replied, widening her stance as she prepared for a duel. Hermione could feel the air around her beginning to crackle with the charged magic as the wolf neared her. 

 

The werewolf let out another barking laugh, though there was no hint of any amusement on his face as he stepped closer to her. “Go get the children,” Hermione hissed, not taking her eyes off Greyback. “He came from that direction, I’d bet anything that’s where he’s keeping them.”

 

Not waiting for a response, Hermione flicked her wand. “ Expelliarmus! ” she shouted as the popping sound of Theo’s modified portkey filled the small space. The anti-apparition wards embedded in the building's foundation made it impossible for the apparition to appear. 

 

The werewolf’s wand flew out of his hand, crashing into the far wall near Draco, where the blonde wizard stomped his foot down on the wood, snapping it in half. Greyback let out a roar of frustration at the turn of events, but Hermione was still on the offensive, flicking her wand again with a wordless spell.

 

Thick ropes shot out from the tip of her wand, twisting around Greyback’s legs, sending him crashing to the floor as he was bound so tightly he was unable to move. Beside her, she could see Draco fending off the other wolves, but Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off the snarling wolf in front of her. 

 

A flash of red light came from Draco’s wand, as a stunning spell was shot at the advancing wolves. Their bodies were sent crashing into crates, rendering the ones he’d hit unconscious. Another spell was shot from Draco, sending a shockwave of magic through the air, knocking another werewolf off his feet.

 

“We need to get out of here!” Draco called out as the building rattled, the structure crumbling around them as the impact of the wards falling seemed to have decimated the building’s supports.

 

“Not yet,” Hermione said, her eyes still trained on Greyback as the wolf began to free himself. “This time, I’m finishing this for good.”

Chapter 21: Let’s go home

Scorpius’ heart was hammering in his chest as he struggled against his bindings. His eyes never left Lyra, tied to her chair with blood trickling from a cut on her lip. She wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel her awareness of every moment, every movement, every breath. 

 

That man…He’d been ready to violate Lyra…

 

The building shook again with such force that Scorpius could hear the shouting of a battle happening not too far from them. They couldn’t stay here; it was too dangerous, and the building seemed ready to fall at any moment. 

 

For the first time in his life, Scorpius cursed himself for being born a squib. If he’d had magic, he wouldn’t have been so helpless as their kidnapper fondled Lyra and made such vile threats against her person. 

 

Pulling at his restraints, Scorpius kept his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. Getting free and saving Lyra. The self-doubt that had begun to creep in was shoved aside as the distant explosions faded into the haze of background noise he couldn’t focus on. Saving Lyra was the priority. Since he’d first met her, she’d never let him down. She’d never left him feeling as though he were inadequate for not having magic, standing up for him against people who had fought to make his life miserable. 

 

Gritting his teeth, Scorpius gave a final forceful tug, and the ropes that had been holding him snapped, sending him tumbling to the cold floor as his face smacked against the concrete, sending a sharp pain through his face as his nose broke.

 

“Lyra!” he shouted, his voice hoarse and filled with desperation. Ignoring his pain, he pushed himself to his sister until he was beside her. “Hang on,” he whispered, his fingers pulling at the bindings, “We’re going to get out of here.”

 

Lyra’s silver eyes widened, but she said nothing and nodded her head. As the warehouse trembled again, an explosion made the walls shake, and Scorpius knew that if they didn’t get out now, the entire building would come down around them. 

 

A deep, guttural growl echoed behind them as the brother and sister began to make their way through the dimly lit room. Scorpius froze, turning his head just enough to see three monstrous figures stalking toward them, their eyes glowing like lanterns in the dark.  

 

“Fuck,” Scorpius muttered, pulling Lyra behind his back so that he was between the werewolves and his sister. 

 

“Where do you think you’re going, little squib?” The man taunted, as Scorpius took a step backward, using his body to keep Lyra out of sight.

 

“Just going for a little moonlight stroll. Shame it’s not full tonight, would have made it more interesting.” Scorpius said, the words coming from his mouth as his pulse raced with his anxiety. 

 

“I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere, little Malfoy,” another one of the wolves said, stepping forward, his wand twirling between his fingers. “The boss would be furious if we let you get away.” He growled, the stench from the three men making Scorpius’ eyes water.

 

The three men began to circle them, Scorpius turning his body in a desperate attempt to keep Lyra from getting too close, but it seemed hopeless as the building shook, causing another slab of stone to fall. His heart was pounding in his ears, but Scorpius stayed focused on one thing. Keeping Lyra safe.

 

“We could have some fun with you,” the first werewolf growled again, his lips curling into a wicked grin. “The boss, he has plans for the girl, you, on the other hand…maybe we could show you what the boss is doing to her.”

 

Scorpius’s mind raced, trying to figure out how to protect his sister. The third man swiped a hand towards Lyra, missing her, and Scorpius stepped in the way, taking the blow to his abdomen. They were going to die here, he thought as the building shook again, more debris crumbling to the ground around them, and there was nothing he could do.

 

As the grin on the man in front of him spread, Scorpius lifted his chin to take whatever blow came next when a sudden sharp burst of light broke through the gloom, and a loud, resonating crash echoed through the room. 

 

“Stupefy!”  

 

The werewolf Scorpius had been face to face with, dropped to the floor, stunned as Theo’s voice rang through the dust-filled air. Scorpius’ head whipped around to see Theo standing at the entrance to the room, his wand raised, and his face etched with urgency and fury that Scorpius had never seen on his stepfather’s face before. 

 

“Stay away from them!” Theo shouted, his gaze darting from the men to where the twins stood together. 

 

He didn’t wait for a response, charging forward, toward the remaining men, throwing spell after spell at them. One barely managed to dodge the blast, leaving his foot unbalanced. Before he could recover, Theo was on him, hitting him with a curse that sent the man flying into the fall wall with a sickening crunch as his body crumbled to the ground.

 

“You’re too late,” the last werewolf sneered, his wand turning on Scorpius and Lyra. “You were too late, and it’s going to be all your fault when they’re both dead,” the man spat. 

 

But Theo wasn’t intimidated by the threats. Without hesitation, he flicked his wand and shouted, “ Reducto! ” 

 

The spell hit the man in the chest, and Scorpius turned, covering Lyra with his body as the man’s body burst into little more than dust. 

 

“Are you alright?” Theo asked, his voice steady. Rushing forward, he collected the pair of siblings in his arms and looked them over, as if, regardless of their answer, he needed the assurance that they were fine.  

 

Scorpius could barely respond, still shaking with adrenaline as he looked into his stepfather’s eyes. Turning his gaze to Lyra, Scorpius looked up at him with her silver eyes wide and grateful. Physically, they were unharmed, mentally and emotionally…well…

 

“We’re fine,” Scorpius managed to say, returning his attention to Theo. “But I don’t think the building will hold up much longer.” As if on cue, the building began to tremble again, more of the ceiling falling around them. 

 

“Stay close,” Theo urged, his eyes flicking to where the rubble lay. “There’s an opening we can get out of just ahead.” Quickly.”

 

Rushing from the room, the siblings held tight to one another, as Theo rushed them from the room and to the hole in the building he’d promised them. “Keep moving, I’m right behind you!” Theo shouted as the building began to creak behind them. 

 

The three of them, panting, had hardly cleared the tree line when the building behind them crumbled. As Scorpius turned to see the dust filling the air, the only sound he could hear was Theo’s screams of agony.   

 

—

 

Sweat dripped into Draco’s eyes as he watched Hermione standing just a few feet before him, her wand pointing at Greyback, still fighting his way free from the restraints Hermione had put him in. The air was thick with tension, and the building creaked again, threatening to collapse on top of them. Every second they lingered, Draco’s skin prickled with the urgency to leave and get to safety. He knew that Theo would have found the children and brought them safely. Now, Draco’s only priority was getting himself and Hermione out.

 

“Hermione…” Draco warned, his voice tight as he kept his wand trained on the bound werewolf, but his eyes were focused on her. She was trembling, but it wasn’t from fear. No, the fire of fury burned in her, ready to use a killing curse on the beast. 

 

“We have to go,” he urged, his voice low but sharp. He moved closer to her, watching her intently, seeing the battle raging in her eyes. Her lips were set in a hard line, and her stance didn’t falter, even as the walls around them continued to crumble.

 

“Not until he’s dead,” Hermione replied, voice hoarse with rage and her chest heaving with every breath she took. “He’s a threat, Draco. A danger to our children. And he has to be eliminated.” 

 

Draco’s heart was pounding in his chest as he watched Hermione. Every beat echoed with his desperation about the situation. He knew what Greyback had done and that his father had hired him. He knew what he had planned for Hermione, and that he had used their children as bait. He wanted the monster dead just as much as Hermione did, but they didn’t have another moment to spare. 

 

“The building is about to come down on top of us,” Draco said, his voice dangerously quiet but firm. “We’ve got to go, now .” 

 

The tremors beneath their feet grew more substantial, and the walls groaned in protest. Dust was falling in thick clouds around them, and a portion of the ceiling above cracked with an ominous snap. Draco could feel the weight of time pressing down, every second bringing them closer to disaster. The building was coming down, and they were still inside.

 

Draco moved without waiting for a response, his body moving on instinct. His hands gripped his witch by her waist, lifting her off her feet. 

 

Turning with Hermione over his shoulder, Draco made a run for the exit they’d hardly stepped through, knowing they needed to clear the building as the ground shook with the force of falling in on itself. 

 

His muscles strained from the weight, but Draco didn’t care. He couldn’t stop moving as the sounds of the crumbling structure roared in his ears, and he turned on his heels and ran toward the exit.

 

The ground shook harder, the walls groaning under the pressure of what was happening around them, but Draco didn’t stop. His heart raced as he sprinted toward the entrance they’d used what felt like a lifetime ago. Draco’s eyes stayed focused on the woods ahead of them, his grip on Hermione tightening as the air vibrated with the crumbling destruction around them. 

 

Draco didn’t slow his pace as they burst through the exit, needing to put as much distance between themselves and the building as possible. When the building came down, the force of the Earth shaking caused Draco to stumble, falling to the ground as he used his body to protect Hermione. 

 

The flying debris hit Draco’s back as he stayed positioned over Hermione, using his body as a shield. His eyes clenched shut as the dust made it impossible to keep them open. The sounds were deafening, but Draco couldn’t reach his wand for fear of Hermione’s safety if he were to move. 

 

As the dust began to fade, Draco’s ears were still ringing from the assault of the building’s collapse. A warm spell on his face, clearing the dust, was the only cue he had to open his eyes and gaze down at the witch below him. 

 

“Draco, I…”

 

Draco didn’t let Hermione finish her sentence; instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers. His desperation for her was as if it had a mind. He needed her. In a way that he’d never thought he’d need someone besides Theo. 

 

He loved her with his whole being; his soul ached to be near her and never to let her go again.

 

Pulling back, Draco looked down at his witch, ready to express all of this to her, when a crash through the brush in the woods jerked his attention to where the commotion was coming from. 

 

“Mum! Dad!” a familiar female voice yelled, shifting Draco’s mindset from how quickly he could undress his witch to his approaching children. “Mum!” Lyra yelled, stumbling as she leaned heavily against Scorpius for support. 

 

Looking at his children, Draco’s blood ran cold, wishing he could drop the building on Greyback again for their condition. They were both bleeding and filthy, their clothes torn, and prominent dark circles under their eyes. Scorpius had dried blood from an injury at his temple and was sporting a black eye. Lyra’s lip was cut, and handprint bruises were on her neck and her exposed arms. 

 

“Dad! Hermione!” Scropius said, struggling to stay upright. 

 

Draco and Hermione were off the ground, wrapping their arms around their children as Theo appeared, looking disheveled and broken in a way Draco had never seen the brunette wizard before.  

 

“Theo?” Hermione’s voice cracked as she caught sight of the brunette wizard. 

 

“You’re alive…” Theo whispered, as if afraid to say the words too loudly. “You’re both…alive…”

 

As Theo fell into a head, his tears soaking into Draco’s shirt, and his husband clung to Draco, their children, and Hermione, Draco looked at his witch and raised his brows in a silent question. 

 

Giving a single nod, Hermione’s chocolate eyes filled with tears before breaking contact with Draco and looking at their family. Her soft words of agreement were all Draco needed from her.

 

“Let’s go home.”

Chapter 22: The End

The early morning mist clung to the windows of Draco and Theo’s townhouse in London as Hermione wrapped herself in her old, worn cardigan, looking down on the street that had become so familiar to her after spending so much of the summer before in this home with Draco, Theo, Scorpius, and Lyra. 

 

The quiet simplicity of her seaside cottage, with just her and Lyra, has slowly begun to feel lonelier than the space she sought for peace after the chaos of work. Hermione closed her eyes, imagining the scent of saltwater and the hum of the nearby sea, expecting to feel the sense of safety and security she’d found there. Hermione couldn’t help but think that France wasn’t home any longer, just as England hadn’t been home sixteen years ago. Still, she felt foreboding, thinking of her self-imposed isolation instead of the warmth she’d felt in the past.

 

Hermione turned back toward the small room that Draco and Theo had so generously provided for her to have a separate space from their master bedroom. Deep in her heart, she knew this was where she was meant to be. 

 

As she took in all her belongings, the door to her room opened. Draco and Theo stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind them. Though Hermione smiled at them, she couldn’t help but notice the urgency in Draco’s expression, nor did she miss the way Theo’s fingers brushed his chestnut curls out of his eyes, a nervous tick he’d had since they were younger.

 

“Hermione,” Draco said, his voice steady, though there was a hint of something vulnerable that she couldn’t ignore. “We, that is, Theo and I, have been talking.” 

 

Theo stepped forward, his dark sapphire eyes sincere and hopeful as he looked her over, “We’ve missed you while you were in France, and we don’t want you to go back.”

 

“Oh, I–” Hermione began, but Draco stepped forward. When he took her hands, anything Hermione was about to say was cut off as she looked into his silver eyes, losing herself in their depths just as she had been years before and ever since she’d come crashing back into his life. “We don’t want you to leave. Not now, not ever again.”

 

Coming to join them, Theo crowded into their space, and Hermione felt herself melting into the warmth of her wizards. 

 

“Lyra can continue at Beauxbatons, or if, after what happened over the winter holidays, if she wants to transfer to Hogwarts, that can be an option too. I know you have your job, but you could go into freelance work or portkey back to France every day. I don’t care what you do, I know that we need you here, with us.” Theo pleaded, tears filling his eyes as he reached to touch her, as if he could keep her with them. “You don’t have to sacrifice what you’ve built. You don’t have to choose, we want to make this work for all of us.”

 

“And you’d both be fine with that?” Hermione asked, pulling away to look both wizards in the eyes. “I travel a lot, with my work–”

 

“As long as when you came home, it was coming home to us,” Draco cut off, his grip on her hands tightening. 

 

Not able to hold her composure any longer, Hermione felt her lips turning upward as she looked at both of her wizards. “Then it’s good that I was just getting ready to return to the cottage to pack up all our things, isn’t it?” She asked the pair, looking between the silver and sapphire eyes gazing at her. “Lyra refuses to leave Vivi and transfer to Hogwarts, but she agreed that international travel is far too convenient for us to stay in France when our hearts are in London, here with the two of you and Scorpius.”

 

Draco’s eyes widened, and a small, incredulous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re serious? You’ll stay…with us?” His voice softened, as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

 

Hermione’s heart swelled as she nodded. “For all of us,” she said, her gaze flickering to Theo, whose eyes shone with unshed tears. 

 

Theo reached out to gently touch her arm, his expression one of disbelief mixed with overwhelming gratitude. “You’re serious?” He asked, his voice cracking with his hardly contained emotion.

 

Hermione could feel the weight of their words and vulnerability, making her want to pull them closer and never let them go. She smiled softly, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I am,” Hermione replied, leaning to press a kiss against Theo’s lips. 

 

Draco gently wiped the tear from her cheek, his touch lingering on her jaw. She tilted her face toward his, and to see the man she’d loved for so long still opening his heart for her, as if he would have spent a lifetime waiting for her. His lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but instead, he smiled and pulled her into a tight embrace. Theo joined them, his arms wrapping around her and Draco, holding them together like they were always meant to be. 

 

At that moment, the world outside seemed distant, as if it had all faded away and just left the three of them together, as it should be.

 

Hermione pulled back slightly, her hands resting on their chests as she smirked up at her men, knowing that forever with them would be one of her most incredible adventures. 

 

“I love you, Hermione Granger,” Draco said, smirking at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners. 

 

Pulling away from them, Hermione slowly began to back toward the ornate settee that Theo had placed in there for her so that she could have a comfortable place to sit while she got ready for the day. As she moved backward, pulling away the cardigan and dropping it to the ground, the realization flickered across both their faces at her meaning, and her hands drifted to the hem of her shirt. 

 

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott,” she said, letting her voice drop an octave as she reached for the clasp of her trousers.

 

As if they were in a trance, they followed her, their eyes roaming her body and darkening as the back of her legs hit the velvet she’d been backing toward. It had been so long…

 

Falling backward, Hermione’s rear hit the seat as she gazed up at the men, heat and lust in their eyes as they watched her, ravenous for her.

 

“Is this what you want, then?” Theo asked, his voice dropping low, becoming seductive and alluring. 

 

“Yes,” Hermione pleaded with them as she pulled her trousers down and out of the way. “I want all of this.”

 

“Together?” Draco asked, kneeling in front of her, pressing his lips against the inside of each calf as he helped her remove the tight denim, tossing them aside. 

 

“Please,” Hermione begged, her body flushing as her men looked over her exposed body. She wore her bralette and thong, nothing fancy or even a matching set, but it didn’t seem to matter to Draco or Theo as they crowded around her. She had never needed to connect with someone as much as she needed to with them in that moment.

 

Draco’s mouth found her center, her thong being pulled tighter and taunt until it snapped under the force. Hermione’s head fell back at the feeling of his mouth on her, drinking in her essences as if he were a starved man looking for his final meal. 

 

While Draco began working on her, Theo had moved so that he was hovering over her, his thick cock in her face as she looked up at him with a glazed look on her face. “Open up, Golden Girl,” Theo purred, slapping her chin with his cock.

 

Obeying his command, Hermione opened her mouth as wide as she could, desperate to taste him. When he slid his length past her lips, Hermione moaned at not only the feeling of him filling her mouth, but also as Draco slid two fingers inside her. 

 

It had been a really long fucking time since she’d last been touched like this.

 

“So tight,” Draco murmured against her folds.

 

When Theo’s cock hit the back of her throat, Hermione’s body bucked, pushing her cunt into Draco’s face with a wimper of satisfaction. 

 

“More,” Hermione panted, pulling away to look up at Theo, his disheveled hair hanging in his eyes as she looked to Draco. “I need all of you.”

 

They didn’t need to be told twice, as Draco pushed his way up to standing. He was still fully dressed, his black button-up and trousers perfectly in place, though his hair was now a rumpled mess. 

 

“Did you want us both, at the same time?” Theo asked, rubbing soothing circles on her arm, his nerves evident in his tone. “We can take it slow if you’re not–”

 

“No, I want it,” Hermione pleaded, turning to face Theo, who’d lain beside her. “I want all of you, together.”

 

With a nod of his head, Theo waved his hand, and Hermione could feel the lubrication charm at her arse, her cunt pulsing with need and despration. Hermione’s eyes closed tightly as Theo’s finger began to play with her entrance, stretching her and preparing her to take him. 

 

“We’ll go slow. If it’s too much, you have to tell us,” Theo said, prodding her, moving his finger deeper inside her. 

 

Hermione nodded, closing her eyes as she tried to relax into Theo’s touch. His fingers were thick, and she knew it would be a tight fit, but she was ready for this and wanted nothing more than to feel their warmth surrounding her. She was finally ready to feel whole; the only way it could happen was with them.

 

Theo continued to push his fingers inside her, stretching her with each move, and Hermione breathed through the tight pinches of pain that kept rocking through her. When she pushed back on him, trying to take more of him and deeper, Theo knew she was ready for him. 

 

Pushing his cock inside her, Theo moved slowly, not wanting to hurt her. Hermione tried pushing back against him, but Theo held her still.

 

“Trust me, the slower the better right now,” he promised, inching his way inside her. 

 

The stretch of his cock felt incredible, and Hermione could feel her climax coming over her, but she pushed it down, wanting to wait until she had Draco as well. 

 

“More,” Hermione moaned, leaning her head back against Theo’s shoulder as he bottomed out in her. “God’s, Draco, please, more,” she begged, her eyes watering with her need as she watched him finally begin to strip from his clothes. 

 

“Whatever you want,” he promised as he kicked off his shoes. 

 

His movements were slow as he pulled the hem of his shirt from his trousers before beginning to work on the buttons, one by one. His nimble fingers ensured no harm came to his shirt. As he worked, Theo had started to rock inside her, moving slowly, but enough that she thought she might lose her mind. 

 

“Draco…” Hermione warned as he pulled his shirt over his shoulders, exposing his scarred, pale chest. “Hurry…”

 

“Shh,” He cooed, a smirk playing on his lips as he unbuckled his belt. “We have all the time in the world.”

 

Though it felt like hours, it was only moments later when he was stripped down to his trunks, walking toward her. When he was in position, he finally released himself, and Hermione thought she might cry when she saw his thick length appear. His pink tip dripping with his seed, ready to fill her.

 

As Draco moved between her thighs, Theo rolled so that Hermione was now laying flat against him, his cock stilling in her just for Draco to finally push in at last.

 

Her scream was muffled by Draco’s mouth covering hers, his cock filling her, pushing against Theo, causing the other wizard to let out a colorful curse behind her. As Draco took charge, pumping inside her, Hermione’s body and magic sang with pleasure, loving the feeling of having her wizards claiming her at long last. 

 

“Fuck,” Theo hissed, as Draco’s hips slapped against hers, tightening her hold on Theo as he worked them both, using Hermione’s body to bring Theo to the brink. “Drake, fucking hell, you feel so good,” Theo moaned, his breath hot against her shoulder.

 

“Don’t either of you cum until I say you can,” Draco commanded, his silver eyes blazing with his desire for them. “Because I’ll take care of you, but you must trust me.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Theo whined, as if this were the most natural phrase for him to utter. 

 

Hermione nodded her head, but when Draco growled, Hermione swallowed thickly. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. 

 

“Yes, sir,” she repeated. Satisfied with her response, Draco began moving again, and Hermione could feel her cunt starting to flutter around him, her release drawing closer.

 

“You’re both such good sluts for me,” Draco praised, and Hermione could feel her nipples hardening at the compliment. “I’m about to cum, and when I do, you’re both free to cum with me, understand?” He said, his cock rocking in her, causing both her and Theo to mewl like they were animals. 

 

“Ready?” Draco asked, sweat beading at his forehead as he looked down at her. When Hermione groaned again, Draco pushed into her one more time, filling her with his seed just as Theo exploded in her arse. 

 

Hermione’s body shook with the force of her orgasm, it coming over her in waves as she let out a cry. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and as Draco collapsed onto her, Theo’s arms wrapping around them both, Hermione knew she’d made the right decision.

 

These wizards were hers, always and forever. 

 

—

 

A Little Over Three Years Later…

 

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the perfectly manicured lawns of Eton College, where a gentle breeze stirred the air. The chatter of excited boys filled the space and floated through the campus as friends shared their last moments before they went their separate ways. Whether that be going to university, travelling, or joining the military, it all varied, but after today, they would no longer be students at Eton College. 

 

It was an accomplishment for everyone there, but it felt like a victory for Scorpius. 

 

Scorpius smiled as he spotted his Aunt Daphne and Pansy in the crowd, along with his grandmothers, who were all wearing perfectly Muggle outfits to fit in. Beside them was Lyra, her laughter ringing out as she spoke animatedly to Pansy, who caught Scorpius’ attention with an amused smirk and gave him a wink.

 

Weaving his way toward them, Daphne’s face brightened when she spotted him, her golden blonde hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail with a pale blue hat on her head.

 

“Somehow you managed to not get into any more trouble,” Daphne said, ruffling his hair with her gloved hand.

 

Scorpius chuckled, the tightness in his chest easing as he relaxed into his aunt’s touch. “Yes, well, one situation was more than enough in my opinion,” he stated, smirking in his sister’s direction, who merely shrugged her shoulders. 

 

“It’s not my fault, trouble seems to find me,” Lyra said, her silver eyes sparkling with amusement. 

 

Scorpius could only roll his matching silver eyes and shook his head as he turned to his grandmothers. Anita smiled at him, her greying hair neatly pulled back, and dabbed a tear from her eye as she smiled at her grandson. Narcissa, however, stood as a regal and serene presence, watching Scorpius with a gaze full of quiet pride at what he’d managed to accomplish.

 

“We’re all so proud of you,” Narcissa said, her voice a whisper, full of emotion.

 

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out to wrap both his grandmothers in an embrace. 

 

“Scorpius?” He heard a voice over the crowd and turned just in time to be plowed into by James. “Mate, this place is amazing! You held out on me for all these years!” James said, waving his arms excitedly around, gesturing toward the grand school. 

 

“Well, the number of times my classmates had to be obliviated without you physically being here, I thought it might be better for everyone’s safety if you weren’t invited,” Scorpius deadpanned, his gaze flicking to how James had an arm wrapped around his sister’s waist. The fact that Lyra hadn’t cursed him and her cheeks were tinged a slight pink told Scorpius all he needed to know about their status. 

 

“I could have kept myself in check,” James said, waving his free hand, dismissing Scorpius’ legitimate concerns. 

 

“Sure…” Scorpius trailed off, shaking his head as he turned to the last three people who had been so patiently waiting for his attention. 

 

His father and stepparents stood huddled together, drawing attention from his classmates and their families. Still, none of them seemed to mind, given the unconventional nature of their polyamorous relationship. Truth be told, neither did Scorpius. They were happy and together, and that was all that mattered to him.

 

“Congratulations,” Hermione said, untangling herself from her husbands so that she could wrap her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.” Unlike the pure-blood witches in her family, Hermione allowed her emotions to show freely on her face as she smiled down at him, her makeup a mess and her brown eyes slightly red and swollen from crying. Still, it was all because of her happiness for him. 

 

Being a spectacle of himself, Theo outshone even Daphne. He wore a three-piece suit that perfectly matched his eyes, with actual gold embroidery and stars stitched to create the constellation of his namesake. The crowd's murmurs made it clear that the magic he’d also embedded hadn’t gone unnoticed as the stars sparkled, but it was at least subtle enough that no one could outright call him out on it. 

 

“My sweet boy!” Theo cried, dabbing at his eyes. “You’re brilliant, absolutely brilliant.”

 

Shaking his head, not wanting to encourage any other outburst from his stepfather, Theo turned his attention to his father. His white hair was starting to grey slightly, but he was still young for a wizard. “You’ve earned every bit of this, Scorp. Go, enjoy your victory,” he said, clasping Scorpius on the shoulder. 

 

Looking up into the silver eyes that matched his so well, Scorpius knew it was true. He’d been through so much, but this was only the beginning of his life. And Scorpius was excited to see what his life had in store for him.    

 

The End

Notes:

Congratulations to me on finishing this long-awaited story! I sincerely hope that it was everything you had been hoping for, and I'm grateful that you took the time to read this lengthy project. However, there are 33 days left until I am FINISHED with my classes in my grad program, and that's something else that is worth celebrating.

Shout-outs to my alpha/beta team: Ceilidchaos, Emotionalsupporthufflepuff, Sobsinashell, and anyone else who has been here through this. Cover art shout-out again to Roseheira, because I can't get enough of my precious babies and getting to see them in full color. Sigh, squib Scorp. Sweet angel.

Anyway, as you can see, the countdown is ON for me to finish school and to finally have a semblance of free time and not work 6 days a week. With that being said, I will be brushing up on all of my stories and diving in to try and chip away at my WIPs. None are abandoned, I've just been busy. If you need to find me, always check out our Facebook group Dreomione Appreciation.