Work Text:
“MUM! I’M SO GLAD YOU’RE HERE, DAD IS BEING CRAZY!”
The shrill nature of Lyra’s pleas was not lost on Lady Malfoy as she made her way into the furthermost sitting room of the Manor.
“Wow, it’s been a long time since I’ve been greeted with such excitement…”
Hermione trailed off as she took in the sight before her. Her husband, a man known for keeping his composure under pressure, was visibly shaking as her daughter, hair askew and lips swollen, glared at him and- oh, gods, was that /Harry/ stupified on the ground next to Lyra?
“Mum, talk some sense into your husband!”
“Lyra, I love you, I do. But I’m gonna need someone to make sense of all this for me before I- Why is Harry here?”
There was no logical reason that Hermione could come up with for Harry to be in her home at all. Even with Lyra dating his son, they’d mostly seen Ginny since Harry worked so much. Also, as loathe as Hermione was to admit it out loud, Ginny had gotten the Malfoys in the Potter divorce.
“That is a question for your daughter, Hermione.”
Hermione. Draco never used her first name. Granger, yes. Lady Malfoy when they were alone. But never Hermione unless he was very, very angry.
This was bad.
“Lyra, why is Mr. Potter here?”
“Originally,” she began as Draco scoffed rudely, “He came over to make sure that I was okay after James Sirius cheated on me.”
“He did what?! Oh gods, is he still alive? Is the real reason Harry stopped by to arrest you and you stupified him? Lyra, I don’t know if we can pay our way out of another murder…”
“No, it’s worse.” Draco’s tone was biting and cruel and Hermione tried to imagine what could possibly be worse than her daughter going to Azkaban for murder.
“Get on with the story, Ly,” Hermione encouraged quietly.
“Then we got to talking about how Harry always thought I was too good for his son anyway. James Sirius was a terrible boyfriend.”
“Yes, I remember,” Hermione gave a terrified glance to the vein on Draco’s forehead that looked like it was about to burst.
“And then he said he’d miss seeing my smile around, and I laughed for the first time since I’d found out about James Sirius and Olivia.”
“And then,” Draco began as though he simply couldn’t hold himself back any longer. “I walked in on the two of them… There was thrusting!”
“YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE HOME FOR TWO MORE HOURS.”
“So that’s why Harry doesn’t have a shirt. I guess he managed to get his pants on before…” Hermione mused quietly. “Oh. Oh no, Draco, did you attack Harry Potter, the head Auror?”
Smugly, Draco nodded, “You know, he’s done enough for the wizarding world. It might just be time for the world to move on past him. Especially if he’s gonna insist on putting his hands on my daughter.”
“Wow, okay,” Hermione stared wide eyed at the ground while she processed Draco’s stated position. “Lyra, you do know that he is in his forties, right? What is the appeal?”
Just as smugly as her father before her, Lyra popped off, “Best way to get revenge on James Sirius is to make him my stepson. Plus, have you seen Harry’s six pack? That Head Auror position is doing wonders for him.”
Ignoring Draco’s dry heaving in the corner, Hermione made meaningful eye contact with Lyra as she agreed, “I have seen it, actually. I grew up with him so I’ve seen everything.”
“Oh.” Lyra’s voice was small as her brain processed her mother’s meaning. “Oh. Oh. Oh, no.”
“The tent got smaller and smaller the longer the war went on and we really believed we wouldn’t live through it,” Hermione reasoned as Lyra began hyperventilating. “And one night, I’d accidentally set one of the bunks on fire when I was making dinner so then, we had to share a bed and, well-“
“Salazar, in your infinite wisdom, why would you do this to me?” Draco moaned from where he was making himself a drink at the bar cart.
“I’m waking Harry up,” Hermione said, finally taking control of the situation as the two Slytherins filled the room with the sounds of their respective overreactions. “I’m escorting him home and then he and I are having a little chat.”
“Mum, don’t kill him please,” Lyra pled as her father gathered himself enough to say, “Kill him slowly.”
Sighing deeply, Hermione said, “Draco, Lyra is a grown adult who can make decisions for herself.”
Just as Lyra was sticking out her tongue at the patriarch, her mother rounded on her and said, “And Lyra, I do not care how old you are. This, right here, was not a great decision.”
“And both of you,” she ground out as she put her wand to Harry’s head to bring him back to consciousness. “Are ridiculous.”