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Everything was fine.
It was all going according to plan.
Draco could do this.
He survived living with a genocidal madman in his ancestral home against all odds, even after being tasked with an impossible mission. He managed to walk away from the war with a probation and completion of a mandatory programme, which included hours of community service, and Galleons paid in reparations, instead of being locked away in Azkaban.
Miraculously, he somehow convinced Hermione that he was worthy of her friendship, and later on, her love. He was now even friends with his childhood nemesis, even if he would never admit it out loud. Further, he was not only the first Malfoy to actually work in centuries, he was an Auror.
While he couldn't take full credit for all of those achievements, he could at least acknowledge the role he played in his accomplishments. Compared to what he had endured and attained, it should have been easy to supervise his children and make breakfast for his wife before she woke.
However, pancakes were not as simple a dish to make as he thought they would be, and unfortunately, he couldn't call on one of the Malfoy Manor house-elves for assistance. It would ruin the surprise entirely.
Draco was more than grateful for Scorpius. His eldest son was as well-behaved as always and as helpful as an eight-year-old could be. Since Scorpius had made the dish many times with Hermione, he was trying to walk Draco through the motions as best he could remember. Bless his little heart, but it was a hopeless case.
Why was the batter so messy? And, shouldn't there have been an easier way to flip the blasted cake?
It wasn't Scorpius' fault that Draco was raised by house-elves and never cooked a single meal for himself before he and Hermione started dating. Given the stark lack of experience when it came to the kitchen, Draco was honestly impressed he could make toast and tea. Yet, Scorpius thought the sun rose and set on Draco, and his son couldn't seem to comprehend that Draco might not actually be adept at everything.
Draco swallowed a frustrated groan at burning yet another pancake, careful not to wake Leo as he pulled the pan from the stove and tossed the ruined batter into the sink. He should have practised ahead of time, then he could have figured out a way to smooth out the entire process with the use of magic.
Alas, he had not possessed the foresight to plan ahead and now he was stuck with making the best of an otherwise panic-inducing situation. Fortunately, Scorpius had Hermione's temperament, which served as a soothing balm for Draco's frayed nerves. It also helped to have the weight of Leo tucked snuggly against him.
The baby had spent the first part of the morning avidly tracking his siblings every movement, his brown eyes shining brightly at all the commotion and excitement. Yet, Leo had succumbed to sleep a short while before, napping soundly in the wrap that held him tightly to Draco's chest. So long as Draco kept him close, Leo would remain content as a clam.
His daughter, though, was another story entirely.
His frighteningly intelligent, fiercely beautiful, fantastically headstrong Lyra was a force to be reckoned with, especially in the absence of her mother, who normally reined her in.
For some odd reason, Lyra refused to listen to Draco, even when she was on her best behaviour. She was as stubborn as they came, and Draco was sure that her obstinance was inherited from her mother.
If anyone were to ask Hermione, she would have insisted that Draco was simply too indulgent with his only daughter, the first girl born to a Malfoy in centuries.
Draco couldn't fathom why Hermione would believe such a thing.
He spoilt all his children equally, and no one could ever claim Scorpius was willful. It was a little too early to tell with Leo, but Draco was sure that his youngest would take after Scorpius in temperament and behaviour.
Pouring another batch of batter into a fresh pan, Draco turned so he could lay eyes on his daughter. She had more energy this early in the morning than Draco could handle, and he had spent the majority of his time simply making sure that she wasn't getting into trouble. That was probably why he was failing so miserably at making the pancakes.
To be fair, Draco was also failing miserably at monitoring his daughter, if her apparent absence was any indication. He finally found her, tucked away in the far corner, the jar of cookies in her tiny little hands once more.
"I told you only one cookie, Lyra. Your mother will k—" Draco took a deep, steadying breath, thankful that he hadn't finished that sentence. "Your mother will put me in time out if I allow you to ruin your appetite."
He removed the cookies from her grasp, pointedly ignoring the pout that twisted her features and the way she crossed her arms petulantly. When her usual manipulation tactics failed to affect him, his daughter switched methods.
"I want another one!" she demanded.
Draco heard Scorpius huff in annoyance behind him, clearly fed up with his sister's antics. Even though the boy usually had more patience than Draco could ever hope to possess, he quickly became vexed at Lyra's exploits. Supposedly it was a sibling thing.
Taking another deep breath, Draco smiled placatingly at his daughter.
"No more cookies. It wouldn't be fair to your brother since he only got one."
"Give him another one, too!"
Lyra planted her fists on her hips in a posture that was entirely too similar to one Hermione often adopted, even as Scorpius muttered something about not needing any more. As expected, Lyra disregarded him completely since what he actually wanted did little to aid her efforts.
"The pancakes we're making for mummy have chocolate chips in them. You like those, don't you?" Draco tried to divert her attention away from the cookies. When that didn't work, he decided to sweeten the deal, quite literally. "I'll even let you put as much syrup as you want on yours."
Although she appeared intrigued at the promise of unlimited syrup for the briefest of moments, Lyra quickly schooled her features back into a frown as her brow furrowed once more. The girl was already an expert negotiator by the age of five. Her Grandpa Lucy, as the children fondly referred to his father, would be incredibly proud.
Merlin help them all when she got older.
A sharp wave of panic crashed over him at the thought of Lyra as a teenager, and Draco only just managed to remain calm by reminding himself that Hermione would be with him every step of the way. He couldn't imagine what it would be like raising his hellion of a daughter without his wife, nor did he want to.
Glancing over his shoulder to ensure that Scorpius didn't need him, Draco quickly tried to determine what else he could offer to secure Lyra's compliance. With a hand spanning Leo's back to ensure the baby wouldn't get jostled, Draco squatted down so that he was at eye-to-eye level with his daughter.
"How about...if you behave, which means no more asking for or sneaking cookies, and helping your brother if he needs it... I'll give you a Galleon."
Lyra studied his face as if trying to ascertain whether he was lying, and, seemingly deciding that he wasn't, she relaxed her stance ever so slightly.
"I want five Galleons."
"I'll give you one."
"No. Four."
"One, Lyra."
"Three Galleons."
"One, or none."
"Three, or I'll give Crooksey tuna."
Well, she had him there.
Lyra was in charge of feeding Crookshanks as one of her daily chores, and while feeding him tuna wouldn't break any rules, it would give him the foulest gas.
Draco wasn't entirely sure how Hermione's familiar was still with them, though he was fairly certain that the half-kneazle lived on out of pure spite for Draco. After Draco secured himself a permanent position in Hermione's life, he and Crookshanks had come to an impasse of sorts. Neither bothered the other, and if he allowed Crookshanks to sleep on his chest when Hermione was away, Draco would never admit it. Despite his lingering dislike for the animal, the children all loved him, and Crookshanks was fiercely protective of them. No one would ever come close to hurting Draco's family, so long as that wild beast of a creature was around.
"Two Galleons, or I'm calling Topsey to come mind you while we finish up."
"Two for me, Scorp, and Leo?"
"Fine, yes. Two for each of you."
Her face immediately transformed into a brilliant smile, cookies entirely forgotten.
"Yay! Thank you, Daddy!"
She leapt to hug him, nearly bowling Draco over and bumping Leo in the process. His son startled awake and blinked owlishly at his surroundings before his gaze settled on Lyra.
A gummy smile spread across Leo's face at the familiar sight of his sister, and she leaned in to kiss one of his round cheeks before racing off to the kitchen table where a colouring book and markers lay abandoned.
"Hey there, sleepyhead," Draco said to Leo. "Did you have a nice nap?"
Leo gurgled incoherently in response, his legs kicking wildly as Draco stood and made his way back to the stove. His eldest son looked up from a book that had occupied him while Draco and Lyra were in negotiations.
"I turned the heat off, 'cause Mum said I shouldn't cook without an adult, but if the stove was on, the pancake would have burned and made smoke."
"Good thinking, I should have done that before I left you. Just goes to show how little I know. Should we finish up the pancakes, then?"
Nodding his head in agreement, Scorpius put his book down and stood by Draco as he set another pan aside. The cleanup was going to be a headache, but he would worry about it later. Time was limited, and Draco was intent on finishing this breakfast before Hermione emerged from their room. Although Draco had cast several charms to ensure that the noise from the kitchen wouldn't wake his wife, he knew she would be up at any minute now.
He summoned the batter from the refrigerator where Scorpius stored it and turned the stove back on. As he waited for the pan to heat, he turned to his son.
"Okay, Scorp. Walk me through it one more time."
Nearly forty-five minutes passed before they finished, but he and Scorpius finally managed to make enough passable pancakes for the whole family, aside from Leo.
With a flick of his wrist, four trays came floating towards the counter and were soon laden with stacks of pancakes and individual syrup dispensers, cups of juice for the children, and cups of coffee for Draco and Hermione. Scorpius rushed to the garden to pick flowers, and with Draco's help, a pretty bouquet soon sat in a small vase on Hermione's tray.
That was when Leo began to fuss as his morning feeding time approached, and Draco directed Scorpius to finish setting the trays with napkins and silverware while he heated the milk for the bottle. As he waited for the milk to warm, Draco realised that he hadn't heard a single peep from Lyra.
Frantically glancing around the kitchen, he found her post at the table abandoned. The jar of cookies still sat on the counter, but a quiet Lyra only meant trouble.
Draco hastily unwrapped Leo from his chest and shifted the baby in his arms so Leo could drink his bottle comfortably. A murmured spell levitated three trays, while Scorpius took the one destined for Hermione.
Thus began the slow procession through their townhome.
His first priority was Leo, but his son was contentedly suckling away with both of his hands wrapped around the bottle. The trays floated silently behind Draco and the boys, only needing intermittent attention to ensure they remained level.
He glanced into every room they passed, but the living room and children's rooms were empty.
Where was his rambunctious daughter?
As they approached the master suite, the sound of Lyra's voice echoed down the hall. Of course, she had gone looking for her mother. Draco stopped Scorpius from entering with a hand on his shoulder when they reached the bedroom door. He held a finger to his lips, motioning for his son to remain quiet, and Scorpius' eyes flashed in understanding.
"Read this one next!" Lyra said.
"Are you sure you don't want to check-in with your daddy?" Hermione asked. "He's probably worried about you by now."
"He's too busy making pancakes."
"And you don't want to help him?"
"No. They're ugly."
"What are, Lyra?"
"The pancakes."
Draco winced at his daughter's harsh assessment of his attempt at cooking, but she wasn't wrong. A quick glance at the floating trays revealed misshapen, unevenly cooked stacks. He was about to enter and just get the whole thing over with when Lyra spoke again.
"But he tried his best."
"I'm sure he did, darling."
"So you should eat them."
It was a demand. Not a request or a suggestion. A demand.
"Of course, I will." Hermione laughed. "They don't have to look nice to be good, right?"
"I guess. Will you read now?"
Before Hermione could start on whatever book Lyra had thrust upon her, Draco knocked on the door gently and pushed it open. Hermione had the grace to look surprised as Scorpius bound over to present her tray to her, Draco and Leo following closely behind.
Draco could only imagine his parents' reaction at the idea that he and his entire family would be eating breakfast in bed.
The only shared meals he remembered from his childhood were ones in the formal dining room.
Now, Scorpius and Lyra sat perched at the foot of the bed while he settled in next to Hermione. He moved to burp Leo, who had finished his bottle, but the baby only had eyes for his mother as he reached his tiny arms towards her.
"I think Scorpius might have aged several years trying to teach me how to make these, and they still turned out horribly."
Draco kept his voice low as he passed Leo to Hermione, so the older children couldn't hear. He didn't want Scorpius to think it was his fault.
"How many times have I told you that you need to learn to cook?" Hermione leaned towards him with a smile to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. "It doesn't matter, though. It's the thought."
Rolling his eyes and smirking at her sentimentality, Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, his fingers running along her soft skin.
"Besides, I can tell how much effort you put into it," she said.
She flashed him a knowing look and bit back a laugh.
"What's that supposed to mean, Granger?"
"That's Granger-Malfoy to you. I'm guessing you haven't had the chance to look in a mirror?"
"Of course I haven't! I've been too busy wrangling your wild children, Mrs Granger-Malfoy."
"My wild children? We both know who you're talking about, specifically, and we also know that the child in question gets those 'wild' traits from you."
"Gods, you don't have to be so blunt about it. It's been a morning."
He groaned and rested his face against the crown of her head.
"I know, Draco. I know."
The laughter in her voice was impossible to ignore.
When Draco looked up to glare at her peevishly, he saw a mirror she had summoned floating before him.
What a frightening sight he made.
His normally perfectly coiffed blond hair was in complete disarray from all the times he ran his fingers through it as he tried to figure out how to flip the pancakes. His pale cheeks were flushed a rosy hue from the heat of the kitchen and the activity of the morning. There were splatters of batter on his collar and an unmistakable pool of drool on his chest courtesy of Leo. Apparently, his son had seen it fit to eat Draco's shirt in protest of his delayed bottle.
As he took stock of his harried appearance, Hermione tucked into her stack of pancakes and began to devour them with an enthusiasm that Draco knew was undeserved.
She turned her attention to Scorpius and complimented him on giving Draco instructions and being such a big help throughout the morning. When Lyra butt in to tell her mother how she had secured two Galleons for herself and her brothers, Hermione praised her generosity. Leo yanked on one of her curls, demanding to be included, and squealed in delight when Hermione bent to kiss his nose.
"These were delicious, my loves. Thank you so much for such a wonderful gift."
The older children beamed and asked to be dismissed, with Scorpius nagging Lyra to carry her tray back to the kitchen. When they were gone, Draco tugged Hermione to his side once more so he could kiss her more thoroughly.
He didn't know how he had managed it, but not a day went by where he wasn't wholly thankful that Hermione chose to marry him and be the mother of his children.
"I love you, wife. Happy Mother's Day."
"I love you, too. Thank you for doing this."
She smiled at him beatifically.
"I hope you know this isn't your only gift." He nipped her lip when she tried to steal another kiss. "The other will have to wait until the children are in bed tonight, though."
"I'd expect nothing less."
The heated look in her eyes at his insinuations was enough to drive him mad, but a gurgled laugh from the baby between them startled Draco from his lewd fantasies.
"Later." He sealed the promise with a kiss.
As if on cue, a resounding crash could be heard from somewhere in the distance. With a sigh, Draco gave Hermione a final peck and tousled Leo’s sandy hair before pushing himself off the bed and towards the source of the noise.
Everything was not fine, if the distressed cries for help from Scorpius and the maniacal laughter of Lyra were anything to go by.
However, everything was exactly as it should be.