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“Stop pacing around, my Lioness. You’ll wear a hole on the floor like that,” Draco teased his wife, taking one of the cookies that were cooling on the counter to nibble on. He was watching the frazzled witch running up and down the Burrow’s kitchen that morning as she tried to keep track of the huge meal she and the others were helping to prepare for that special day.
“Hey! Don’t touch them,” Hermione slapped his wand away with a huff. “These are for Teddy, not for you!”
“Oh, come on – He won’t even know if I take one.”
“ I will. At least wait until everyone is here before you start eating everything!”
“Well, you’re no fun,” he tried his best attempt at puppy-eyes he could muster, but she merely scoffed it off and went on to clean up the dirty dishes using magic. On the other side of the kitchen, he saw the Weasley matriarch showing up to check the cake rising in the oven while also barking out orders for her sons to come clean up the mess at the dining room.
But sure enough, as he peered out of the window and towards the garden he saw a horde of redheads running up and down the place, all doing hundreds of different things at the same time – like setting up a Quidditch pitch for a quick game later in the day, having a little throwing competition as they de-gnomed their yard and overall had their fun arranging all the preparations for Teddy’s return.
His cousin – at the grand young-age of eleven – was finally returning for the winter holidays after spending months on his first term at Hogwarts and his entire family (which encompassed the rambunctious bunch of the Malfoys, Blacks, Potters and Weasleys) couldn’t be happier to have him back after so long.
It had honestly been a bit of a nightmare to even decide where everyone should meet up in the first place. Andromeda had been adamant that her home was much lovelier than any other option out there while Potter himself insisted that the Grimmauld Place should have been the first (and only) option for the event – given how the wizard was Teddy’s godfather and all…. And yet the Burrow had won out by the popular vote alone (damn be the Weasley clan and their large number of kids!).
But in the end, all that mattered was that everyone was excited to hear from Teddy – to know about all of his adventures and to see how he was enjoying Hogwarts so far.
“Really, Fleabag –” his wife rolled her eyes, batting his hand away before he could go for a second cookie. “Control yourself!”
“Trust me – If I wasn’t holding myself back this entire tray would’ve been gone in five minutes.”
“Merlin! You have the appetite of a big kid!” She laughed in a way that made his heart soar in delight. But suddenly, her smile fell as her brows knitted together. “Wait – Speaking of which, where are the kids? Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on them?”
“I am – I’m just having a quick break to keep my blood sugar up. Taking care of eleven little imps isn’t an easy feat,” he shrugged, but as she kept glaring at him he continued on smoothly. “Don’t worry! Everything’s under control – They are watching some film right now! We’ll have at least an hour or so of peace and –”
A loud, sudden bang echoed from somewhere upstairs, followed by a cacophony of several children just under the age of ten screaming and shouting in the background.
Oh dear, that didn’t sound good. In fact, that sounded like a headache about to happen –
“You were saying?”
“Sweet Circe – I’ll go see if they aren’t killing each other up there,” he grumbled, with a quick peck to her lips as he climbed the stairs three at a time to check on the room where all the kids had been gathered around.
And when he opened the door, he had to hold back a groan when he was met with the sight of the Lion King being completely ignored in the background while a mix of children of all families chased and wrestled one another as if they were little – and undeniably cute – gladiators thrown into the colosseum.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he called out to the kids, but was pretty much as ignored as poor Simba and his cheery songs.
And seeing as Scorpius was closest to him (running at full speed whilst being chased by James with a fluffy pillow acting as a weapon of choice), he grabbed his six-year-old and took him to the side to ask him directly with an arched brow. “What is going on around here? What’s all this?”
“It’s a pillow war, dad!” The kid rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the planet – and as he pointed to where Carina and Rose were now brawling amidst a shower of white feathers, it might as well have been a stupid question on his part.
A pillow war – one might add – that seemed to bring out the height of excitement between all the kids around the room.
Still, it wasn’t something that he should be condoning – and though his four-year old had boldly claimed that she was winning against the older girl (which was probably true, as his daughter was a fierce little lioness of her own right), Draco still felt the need to pick her up and stop her from getting injured. Or worse: risking the fury of her mother by getting into a more serious scuffle.
He settled Carina next to Scorpius with a clear word about not fighting and trying to keep quiet for a bit while he had to come up with a way to bring that war to an end – something that was already proving to be a challenge, as James and Rose began a new match on their own while his children betted on a winner.
On the other side of the room, Victoire and Dominique were building a pillow fort of their own while also defending themselves from incoming attacks of Little Fred and Albus – one that wasn’t very effective, as the little boys were too busy dissolving in a fit of giggles to actually care for a proper plan.
Somewhere to the corner next to the couch, Lily and Hugo – as the youngest kids of the bunch at only three and two, respectively – were quite content on just narrating the whole ‘war’ (which was more of a free-for-all, given how chaotic everything was)... Or well, babble on about the whole scene as best as they could, for a lack of better words. While Little Molly, the oldest of all the kids, watched over the two babies with an aloof air to her that reminded him a bit of one of those Roman Emperors watching the peasants fight for their lives (which in turn, reminded him of the lofty way her father, Percy Weasley, carried himself).
The room was a right mess of feathers up in the air, pillows on the floor, random half-eaten snacks lying around and some…scorch marks on the walls that only Salazar could know how it ended up there. And all of this had happened in the span of five bloody minutes.
Somehow, he could just feel it in his bones that he could put Potter to blame.
“Alright, alright –” he sighed in exasperation as he plucked each pillow out of the kids’ hands and fixed the messy room with a great deal of wandless magic. “Enough of this – You don’t want to get in trouble with your parents, do you?”
“No!” A chorus echoed as the horde of children immediately settled back down with the sudden threat of getting scolded.
“Then let’s all sit and enjoy the film,” he used his best authoritative tone – despite having a goofy smile on his lips – as Carina clambered to sit on his knee and Scorpius settled to his side and the rest of their friends sat around the floor to cheer over some cartoon lion fighting over his kingdom.
And as he enjoyed watching the kids enjoying themselves, he just hoped that his wife and the barrage of Weasleys were doing a good job at preparing everything to make Teddy feel welcomed back during the holidays.
— — —
"They're here!" Ginevra's cheerful tone called for everyone's attention right after a crack of apparition echoed through the Burrow, indicating that Andromeda and Potter were finally back from King's Cross Station with Teddy in tow.
And sure enough, as soon as they all stepped inside the home, everyone made their way to see the boy – with the barrage of younger children racing through the ground to see who got to greet Teddy first with a hug. (With Bill and Fleur laughing in triumph when Victorie had won in the end as she all but leaped into her friend's arms, almost tackling him to the ground).
"Teddy!" Hermione exclaimed by his side when the couple managed to fight off the crowd of people that were trying to get a hold of him as she kissed the crown of his bright blue hair. "It's so good to see you again! How was School?!"
"Hi aunt 'Mione," he started with a weak smile and a soft, almost meek tone that immediately raised Draco's attention. “It was… Cool.”
"You must be tired," his wife smiled at Teddy as she motioned to the dining room. "Come on, let's eat! We made your favourite today and there will be pudding later!"
"I see," Teddy hummed, looking a little out of place, but following everyone else to the table all the same. "Thanks, everyone. I appreciate it."
There was just something about his cousin's demeanour that seemed… Odd.
Draco knew Teddy as an energetic eleven year-old that always had a smile on his face and just couldn’t stay still for more than a few minutes. He certainly would be clamouring over all of his adventures in the magical school by now – hardly allowing himself to breathe in between his ramblings – and he’d be over the moon by the prospect of enjoying his first day of the Winter Break with everyone else (especially with his younger little friends).
But now he looked subdued and tired – with his usual colourful eyes dimmed to a dull brown and shoulders slouching down slightly as he dragged his feet over to where the other kids were sitting – and even then he looked only remotely interested in the way Scorpius showed him how he could do magic tricks (the muggle kind… With cards and tophats that Draco eternally puzzled over by their trickery).
For several moments, he thought about just outright asking Teddy if everything was alright. But seeing as nobody else had caught on the way the boy carried himself with such a morose air, he decided that maybe it was just a bit of the usual paranoia and restlessness that came with him being a werewolf. (Something that he thought he had grown accustomed to, after years feeling it… ).
“Excuse me,” Teddy muttered as he put a miniscule amount of mashed potatoes and gravy on his plate.
"Oh, he's so polite!" Molly gushed to Andromeda while they both talked over the noisy room.
Polite… That’s one way to put it.
His politeness was specially noticed by Draco when the boy suddenly got up from the table and turned to Potter with a sigh.
“May I be excused?” He asked in the perfectly mannered way his grandmother had taught him to behave from very early on. He had barely eaten anything – not even interested in the pudding they had made especially for him, either – and if he had suspected something was wrong with him before, now he was certain of it.
“Are you sure, Teddy?” Potter asked with a raised brow while Hermione turned to look at him with concern in her eyes – finally picking up on the signs that maybe something wasn’t quite right. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Not really. I… I just want to take a nap, if I may.”
“Well, of course you may,” Ginevra chimed in with a bit of an encouraging smile – though her knitted brows also denounced she was a little caught off-guard by his behaviour. “You can go to where my old room used to be – We prepared it just for you!”
“Alright, thank you Aunt Ginny.”
As everyone kept on eating – this time with a quieter hum, when compared to the madness that it used to be before Teddy had retired himself to the bedroom – Draco finished up his own plate and surreptitiously asked his wife to cover for him while he went out to investigate things further.
"Do you think something happened with Teddy during his time at Hogwarts?" She asked him in a whisper, fiddling with the hem of her blouse as she looked in the general direction Teddy headed in. If she hadn't noticed his odd behaviour before, she certainly did now that he asked to go for a nap in the middle of a lively party. "I've never seen him looking so... Sad! There's something going on."
"And I intend to find out," he muttered to her, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Keep Potter and the Weasleys and the kids occupied while I talk to him. I promise I won’t be long."
— — —
Draco climbed the tortuous Burrow's staircase with a lightness in his step that felt uncharacteristic of him, yet he just couldn't risk startling the kid with his usual heavy stride and maybe ruining his chances to make him spill it out.
And sure enough, when he finally reached Ginevra’s old bedroom, he was convinced that he had made the right decision – as he got to peek through the slightly ajar door to see that Teddy was slumped over the bed with a certain expression of defeat that reminded Draco of himself when he was an anguished teenager back in the day.
Sweet Circe! How his heart broke by the sound of sniffles and hiccups coming from the young boy.
"Teddy?" He used the softest tone he could muster as he slowly entered the room, while he turned to look at him with a horrified gasp, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "Hey buddy."
"Un– Uncle Draco!" He stammered through the tears in a way that made his stomach churn in apprehension. "What are you doing here?"
"Checking to see if you're alright… What happened? Why are you crying?"
"Nothing," he turned his head to avoid looking at him in a pitiful attempt to hide the tears – almost as if he hoped to avoid the situation all together. "Nothing happened… Now please go away – And don't tell Uncle Harry about this."
His lips tightened to a thin line as he tilted his head to the side.
Perhaps in the past Draco couldn’t have been happier to oblige the boy’s demands – back when he was younger, he absolutely dreaded difficult conversations and he always preferred to bottle things up and deal with whatever troubles he was facing by himself instead of talking to anyone else (pretty much like Teddy was doing right now, really).
But as he became a father himself (to a couple of devious kids that were far too alike him for their own good) he was starting to master the heart-to-hearts that seemed to be a staple ability in good parenting. So, he pressed on, as he met Teddy’s eyes with purpose.
"I can leave you alone if you want... But would that really help though? There must be a reason you're crying – Maybe I can help you with that, bud."
"No one can help me," he huffed with a conviction that only a pre-teen could have. "No one would understand, Uncle Draco."
“Oh? How can you be so sure?” He arched his brow with the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “You know – Your Aunt ‘Mione in particular is quite a smart witch, I’m sure she could help you with anything! If you prefer, I can go ask her to talk to you – Or maybe anyone else, if you wish."
“No! It’s just something I have to deal with on my own.”
“You don’t know that! Come on, buddy – Try me. I promise I'll help any way that I can."
Despite the reassuring smile Draco had on his face, Teddy let out a pained sigh as fresh tears welled up in his eyes.
In a flash, he walked over to sit at the edge of the bed – trying to keep a bit of a distance from the kid (should he need it), but with his arms spread out in the invitation of a hug. To his relief, the boy shifted closer to him for the embrace as he did his best to keep the tears at bay.
They stood in silence for what felt like an eternity – with only the soft sniffles and sighs filling the air for a while. But then, he heard a small voice suddenly let out a wavering whisper.
"My parents are dead."
Oh.
Wel, damn... There wasn't much helping on that matter, was there?
"And," Teddy suddenly continued after a couple of breaths. "That's not even half of the problem!"
“Will you tell me about it?” His arm tightened around his small body, wishing he could just hug all the sadness away from the boy. “Or do you still wish me to leave?”
“No – Please stay,” he whimpered, burying his face in his chest and staining his shirt with the tears. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well… You can take your time.”
Teddy nodded as his breath slowed down in between the hiccups. But as he started again, his words were a little jumbled out from his growing distress.
“All the teachers say I look just like my father –” Draco swallowed a lump in his throat at the words. “Professor McGonagall even cried when she first saw me! And after I tried… Changing my face a bit to stop them from saying that they just started to tell me about my mum – and the fact that I’m a… A… Metamorphmagus just like her. Professor Sprout just can’t stop making comparisons between my mum and I since we're both in Hufflepuff and I – I can’t take it anymore! And, and –”
“Hey – It’s okay,” he cooed in the softest tone he could muster. “Breathe a little, bud.”
Gods! He wished he could call Hermione for back up – she’d certainly know what to say to make the kid feel better – especially now that he knew what it was all about. If anything, she’d at least know what to say regarding his parents anyway.
Draco – as a little brat that he used to be – couldn’t really recall anything important about Remus.
All he knew was that the professor used to dress with just about the shabbiest coats known to Wizarding Kind and that his lesson on Boggarts had terrified him to no end with the thought that perhaps his enemies (Potter, Weasley and Granger at the time… But also Voldemort and the band of Death Eaters, as well) could use his greatest fear against him at a later date.
And yet he had no idea what the actual man was like…
He was probably kind, strong, and brave – going by the fact that he was a war hero and a Gryffindor – And that was about all he could guess, really.
And when he thought of Nymphadora… Well, he had even less of an idea of what she was like, despite the fact that she had been his cousin.
What were Hufflepuffs even known to be anyway? Loyal and Friendly? It was hard to say when he used to be so indifferent to that house back in his Hogwarts days.
“And then,” Teddy continued in a choked sob, with his arm wrapped around Draco’s waist so tightly that it might as well have cut his circulation there. Oh dear! There was more? “And then the other kids told me I was a monster!” The kid sobbed while he felt his blood running cold inside his veins. “That I was a… A werewolf.”
His breath hitched on his throat as he looked down at the poor boy.
Teddy’s hair was now faded to a similar shade of pale-blond as he had and his eyes were a darker shade of grey that made the kid look very much as if he was his own child… In a way that he could easily pass as Scorpius’ and Carina’s older brother.
“They said that… That I should be left in the Forbidden Forest with the other wolves and never come back. They insisted that if my dad was a monster – then so was I. They told me I'm a werewolf child.”
Draco stared at the weeping kid with his jaw clenched tightly shut, trying his hardest to keep himself composed – but his nose still flared in anger as the beast inside his soul howled with the desire to find and maim whatever little pests that said that about Teddy.
“Teddy, listen to me –” He measured his voice to his best abilities as a soft hand played with the fine strands of his hair. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to think that he was somehow angry at him. “You are not a monster.”
“But –” he insisted with a small huff. “But I feel… Weird with the full moon… I feel anxious and fidgety. What if I really am a werewolf?”
"Then you'd still not be a monster," he assured him with a small upturn of his lips. "Werewolves are still human, Teddy – Even if they can be a little scary during certain nights of the year."
"The kids in my House said that werewolves liked to hunt people for sport."
"And that's simply not true," he muttered as kindly as he could. Honestly, where were those stupid kid's parents ? Weren’t they teaching them anything? "For one, there's the Wolfsbane potion to keep them calm during the night... And also, most werewolves will prefer to just hide somewhere safe to avoid hurting people at all. If they do end up hurting someone, I assure you that it's by accident."
"But… In the war… Didn't some werewolves fight for... The Bad Side?"
Straight away, his mind wandered back to his past interactions with Greyback and his pack so many years ago – with the werewolves claiming that if their Dark Lord were to win the war they’d have free reign to do what they pleased (which entailed many unfathomable crimes and immoral acts, Draco imagined).
Merlin! He could feel the bitterness growing in his very soul just by thinking about how those idiots ruined the life of so many people back when they were freely roaming around – not only the lives of poor innocent witches and wizards, but also the lives of other werewolves too, by giving the whole community a bad reputation to their curse.
"As I said... Werewolves are human. There are some bad people out there just as there are good people, too. Your father, for example, was a very good man – and a good werewolf all the same. He fought for the Order and he helped defeat the bad guys, you know?"
"I… I guess," he shrugged his little shoulders with a deep sigh – still looking as pitifully forlorn as he did at the start of their chat.
For a moment, Draco considered asking him again if he wanted to say what he had in mind – maybe something else entirely was bothering him and he couldn’t admit out loud quite yet – but before he could even think of a way to broach the subject, the kid started to to talk out of his own volition. "I mean... I just haven't met any other good werewolves. Who's to say my father wasn't just the exception to the rule?"
His breath caught on his throat as he considered Teddy’s words, just as he also tried to think of what she should do next to cheer him up. But seeing the way the kid still looked so defeated, there just wasn’t much to ponder about.
So, Draco rolled up the sleeve of his Oxford shirt – something that he refrained to do when he was outside his home – and pointed to his left arm. The one that was covered in pinkish scars, raised edges and pale skin that covered the remnants of a Dark Mark that used to haunt him so many years ago.
When he spoke again, coaxing the boy to look at his arm, his voice was soft and barely above a whisper. "Let me show you something, Teddy."
He wasn’t surprised to hear the way the kid gasped. To most people, the scars weren’t considered a pretty sight – as many nosey coworkers back in the Ministry always felt the need to comment – And yet, to Draco, the presence of his scars filled him with pride and gratefulness.
They were a symbol of getting over his past as a failed Death Eater. Just like they were a symbol of the start of his new life by the side of the woman he was completely besotted with. (Frankly – How could he possibly hate those scars when they were the result of saving Hermione’s life?)
Still, he was wary of the way Teddy paled to the point that it was almost as if he had seen a ghost. Perhaps it was a sight a bit too ugly for a small boy to handle, after all.
“What happened to your arm?” He asked just as his hands lightly traced the sensitive skin. There was a small waver in his voice that soon seemed to be gone as the typical child-like curiosity glinted in his eyes as he kept on prodding the skin – along with an awed smile that matched the ones he always had on his face whenever Draco or Potter narrated him their latest daring auror mission.
"Well, bud! I was bitten by a werewolf – On accident, by the way."
"You were bitten? What?! Since when?! Wait… Does that mean you’re a…”
"A werewolf!" He couldn’t help but let out a teasing titter at the way the poor kid looked as if he was about to pass out from the shock. It wasn’t everyday that he got to reveal someone of his condition, so he might as well have a little fun with it. "I've been one for years now!"
From the way Teddy moved around the bed to fully face him, there wasn’t a single doubt in Draco’s mind that the kid was ecstatic by the news. It wasn’t everyday that he got to meet a werewolf so casually, he supposed, but the way he was reacting so positively to this did make his muscles relax in elation.
"Are you kidding? I had no idea! I can’t believe it – That's so... So... C ool! Does Aunt ‘Mione know this?"
"Of course she knows – Just like Potter and the Weasleys too. We just don't talk about it much because well... It's really not that big of a deal, really."
"Not a big deal?" He gasped as if outraged and his voice heightened to a pitch or two. "You can turn into a giant wolf! I read that they are super strong! Like wicked ten-times-stronger-than-a-normal-human strong! And they can run really fast and jump really high! And they can detect smells from a mile away! And, and, and –"
"Woah! Calm down, buddy – Remember to breathe," he chuckled as he watched the boy jumping out of the bed and running around the room with renewed energy. "And the thing about the smell – I think you're talking about sharks right there."
“You’re one of the good guys!” Teddy ignored his last remark to gawk some more at Draco. "You fight bad guys!"
"I am,” his heart warmed at the adoration in Teddy’s voice. “I do fight bad guys.”
"Uncle Draco! This is the coolest thing ever! You’re now the most awesome uncle ever!"
Ha! Take that Potter!
"Well, you’re pretty awesome yourself, kid,” he smiled as he ran up to him for a tight hug. “Just remember what I said, Teddy – werewolves are just like any other people. There’s really nothing to be afraid of."
“I understand,” his grin was back to the way it should be – wide, carefree and very Teddy-like. “Thank you Uncle Draco.”
“It’s no problem – And if you ever need to talk, know that I’m here, okay?” He reassured him one last time before straightening up to his feet and pointing back towards the door. “Now – how about we go back down to the kitchen to have some cake and sweets? Molly baked them especially for you.”
“Good idea! I’m starving!” Teddy laughed in glee as he started to run off back to where everyone was gathered around.
And in no time, Draco got to watch the kid making his way to where Scorpius and James were playing tag to join them in on the fun just as Carina called the rest of the kids to try and make a tournament of hide-and-seek around the gardens.
— — —
Later that night, after the kids had been successfully tucked in their beds to sleep (which had been actually quite easy to do, since they had already tired themselves out with all the playing during the day), he and Hermione laid back together in bed – each with a book on their hands as they relaxed for the night.
A nice respite from all the chaotic afternoon they just had with too many energetic people all hanging around in one place.
Suddenly, he felt his wife shifting around the bed to press a soft hand to his shoulder, beckoning for his attention. "Hey – Draco," when he looked over to her eyes, he could see a small glint of concern in her brilliant amber eyes.
"Hm?"
"Will you tell me what happened with Teddy today? I know he perked up a lot after you talked to him… But what made him so sad in the first place?"
"Oh," he grimaced at the mention, closing up his book to scoot over to his mate's side of the bed while he thought about how he should tell her. "Well, it was a bit complicated."
“I’m listening...”
Slowly, he explained everything that he and Teddy had talked about over the afternoon – of the professors lamenting his parent's deaths (in a way that was more distressing than comforting), the way the other kids treated him because of his father's lycanthropy and the way Teddy himself was worried about being a werewolf himself… Or a monster, as he had put it.
By the end of his rhetoric, Hermione looked as if she was about to cry – with her hands clutched to her chest and her teeth nibbling down to her bottom lip in a way that he was sure would hurt if she kept at it.
Not that he could blame her for that reaction, though – it hadn't been exactly easy for him to hear all of this from Teddy himself, either.
"That is awful!" She muttered as Draco brought her closer to his arms, softly kissing her temple as he did so. "We need to talk to McGonagall about this as soon as possible!"
"I was already planning on doing that first thing in the morning. Both regarding the staff's reactions to teddy and the..."
"Bullying," she huffed with her arms crossed in anger. "That's what it is. A bunch of first years, no less! How terrible!"
"Kids can be some awful brats, can’t they?" he responded with a crestfallen shrug. "Merlin knows how I was one. Gods – I don't think I've apologised enough to you, Potter and Weasley for the things I've done."
"Please –" she sighed with a nudge to his ribs. "Don't act as if we weren't as nasty as you at times. Granted, you were pretty horrible."
"And I feel awful for that... If I had a Time Turner I’d go back just to punch myself for the things I said."
“Well, I can attest that a good punch to your face wouldn’t do much…” she rolled her eyes with a titter in a lighter tone. “But what matters is that you changed, Fleabag. And you're proof that people can be better – as long as we don’t stand idle when something like this happens. We're not letting those kids keep thinking that werewolves are monsters or that they kill and eat people."
"If I did, I assure you that those little devils’ parents would be first ones in my list –" he grumbled, earning a smack on his arm for this.
"Come on now! Violence isn't the answer!" She scoffed – though she also added in a lower whisper. "Yet."
"Ah – There's the feisty lioness I know and love –" he chuckled as she smacked his arm again for good measure. And at first, it seemed as if they were just about to pick up their books again and carry on with their night… Except that the atmosphere in the room got colder as Draco’s expression morphed into a deep frown.
"What's wrong?"
"I –" he hesitated, as if trying to weigh the words in his tongue first. "Scorpius and Carina…”
“What about them?” She asked when he paused, though it was clear to both of them what he had in mind.
“They’ll probably go through the same thing Teddy did won't they? Only… Worse. Because of me. Because of who I am and what I used to be."
"Oh, Draco – " Hermione knitted her brows together, pressing a tender kiss to his jaw. "– You shouldn't be thinking something like this. You know how Scorp and Carina love you."
"That doesn’t change the fact that it'll probably come true, though. Not only am I a werewolf, but I am also an –"
"Auror – A quite respected one, at that,” she cut him off with a flippant shrug. “And a good man. A great father. And an incredible husband."
"And an ex Death Eater," he insisted with a grunt. "I know that I changed, Hermione. I know I'll always strive to be good for the sake of the kids – I swore on my magic that I’d never let myself go down the same path that my Father did,” he met her eyes intensely as he breathed out those words like an oath.
And yet, he had a sad smile on his face as he continued. “But many people in the Wizarding World don't see it that way… And this will reflect back in Hogwarts."
"Which is why we're going to talk to McGonagall tomorrow – Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe place for every child to be,” she smiled as she ignored the way he raised a brow at her. “And when the time comes, we’ll explain to them all about the war – Of our respective roles in it and what happened afterwards. They’ll know everything that there is to know about us, Draco. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
He stared at her for a moment – knowing that she was probably (and as always) right. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel wary of the difficulty his two kids were going to face in the future.
“Plus –” Hermione continued, as if reading his mind. “The kids aren’t going to be alone in this. For one, they’ll have us to support them. But also they’ll have the Potters, Weasleys, Longbottoms, Notts and so many other friends to keep them company.”
At her words, a tender smile crept to his face as he mused out loud. “And I suppose Scorpius and Carina will have one another, too. It’s a good thing that they are so close.”
“Quite right…” his wife hummed in a softer whisper – melting further into his embrace as she took his hands and gingerly placed them over her abdomen. “And – In a few months they’ll also have another sibling to play with and support one another.”
“Wait –” his eyes widened as he basked on the warmth of her skin. “Are you telling me that we’ll have another baby?”
“We are!” She giggled while Draco used a sudden burst of energy to pin Hermione into the mattress and press a hungry kiss to her lips. Inside his very soul he was already promising himself that he’d do everything in his power to protect and love his family in any way that he could.
Gods, how he loved this witch!
“So –” he raised a brow at her when they both had to come up for air – though their hands still explored each other’s bodies. “Are we finally going to…”
“We aren’t calling them Little Dipper!”