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Hermione stepped out under the awning of Flourish and Blott’s, and looked over her shoulder, extending her hand for the small boy to take hold of it. Scorpius distractedly wrestled with the books in his arms for a moment, and Hermione smiled fondly down at him.
It was hard for a four year old to manage five books on his own. They were wide, thick, and delicately hand painted children's books that he had picked out himself during their spontaneous outing that afternoon.
The topmost book began to slide out of his arms, and he attempted to catch it with his chin. When it fell further, sitting precariously at the edge of his grasp, he made only a pained, urgent whine in an attempt to get help.
Hermione intervened then, and lifted the errant book from his stack. He had certainly inherited her love for books, and evidently her desire to keep them safe, she thought with pride. She had to store up these little signs that he was, in fact, her son. For though she had carried him for nine months and had definitely been there to see him come from her own body, one wouldn’t know it by looking at him. Scorpius Malfoy looked exactly like his father. That wanker and his ridiculous genes.
“Do you need some help, darling?” she asked gently as she knelt to his level. He looked like a frightened baby rabbit, the way he stood stock still, back slightly hunched as he fought to keep the awkward stack of books in his little arms. He had refused help the first time she’d offered it; insisting beyond a doubt that he was capable of carrying his books himself.
“I’ve got room in my bag for you to put them in. I promise they’ll be safe there, and then you can hold my hand.”
She looked into his round, grey eyes as he thought over this bargain. His bottom lip pouted slightly as he deliberated; yet another thing he’d gotten from his father. That, she could admit, was adorable.
After a moment of thinking, Scorpius gave a nod of acceptance and allowed his mother to hold open the sides of her beaded bag, illegal extension charm at the ready. He made a valiant attempt to transfer them gently, but the stack lost balance and slid haphazardly into the void with a thud.
Scorpius gasped in horror and Hermione tilted the bag to peer inside. “They’re all right in there, darling. Good job.” She stood and held out a hand to her son once again, knowing full well that she couldn’t see them at the bottom of the bag. But they needed to get a move on if they were going to be home in time for Lyra’s little birthday dinner.
It wasn’t a grand affair by any means, much to Narcissa’s dismay, but Lyra wouldn’t remember her second birthday either way. Regardless, she was sure Draco would be wanting her home as soon as possible to help finish decorating the cake and taking care of baby Leo.
Scorpius, naturally, had decided at the last minute that he wanted to give Lyra a birthday gift, and when asked what that might be, he responded that he wanted to give Lyra books.
Merlin, her son cracked her up. What four year old wants to give someone books as a gift? Let alone an illiterate two-year-old.
“Mummy?” Scorpius asked as he took her hand.
“Yes?” Hermione asked as she scanned the street before stepping off the stoop, fluidly joining the flow of foot traffic. Her hold on her son was iron, lest he be lost in the crowd.
“Do you think Lyra will like her books?” he asked, slurring his consonants in that charming way children often did. He lagged slightly, distracted by who knew what and Hermione had to tug gently on his hand to urge him to catch up.
“Yes, I think she’ll love them! Will you read them to her?”
Scorpius bounced as he walked. “Yes!” he said confidently, meaning that he’d simply point to the pictures and erroneously identify the objects and creatures. “And I’ll read them to Leo too. Can I read to Leo, Mummy?”
Seeing that Leo was a whopping five months old, he likely wouldn’t find Tommy’s First Quidditch Game very entertaining, but the gesture was heartwarming nonetheless.
“You may, but we need to get home soon or else daddy might accidentally set our house on fire with birthday candles.” Hermione said as she lifted her chin to the sky, leading Scorpius back towards the Apparition point.
Ah, she knew she wasn’t imagining things. A second droplet fell from the grey sky and landed on her cheek. It was going to rain.
“Mummy?”
“Yes?” Hermione began to walk faster to get ahead of the rain. She really didn’t want to have to stop and dig in her purse for a wand to cast a repellent charm if she could help it. It had been raining all day and she hoped this pause would last long enough for them to make it to the Apparition point.
“I think I felt a rain on my nose.”
“Did you?” she asked with a light laugh, noting his syntactic error. Scorpius’s steps were faltering as he tried to keep her pace and she immediately slowed. The raindrops were falling incrementally now, but she could see the Apparition point ahead.
“Yes,” he confirmed, his hand tugging on hers as he paused to jump over a puddle from that morning’s shower. He didn’t quite make it across the whole thing and dingy water splashed up behind him.
Hermione grimaced. “Try to avoid the puddles, Scorp, you don’t want to get wet.” She guided him further down Diagon Alley, weaving around the larger puddles and rivulets.
Perhaps Draco should have taken him on this errand and she should have stayed home with the babies. Scorpius always did tend to heed his father’s directions more so than her own…. Then again, he was better at managing the kids while entertaining guests, and he had wanted Hermione to get out of the house for a minute. Her mother-in-law had been stressing her out and the chance to escape to Flourish and Blott’s for a little errand had been welcome.
Hermione chuckled to herself as she recalled the way he’d practically shoved Scorpius’s feet into shoes and pushed them out the door, knowing she’d needed the air.
Scorpius lagged behind and their hands jolted nearly apart as she kept moving forward.
Hermione turned to look down, making sure he was alright, and able to keep up when she gasped.
Apparently, Scorpius had heard ‘try to avoid the puddles,’ and interpreted that as ‘stomp in as many puddles as possible with as much violence as you can muster.’
He was soaked from his shoes to the bottom of his shorts and everything in between. Dirt flecked water dripped down his shins and were absorbed by the tragedy that were his socks. She hadn’t noticed his escapades due to her rambling thoughts and now, she was paying for it.
You really can’t ever take your eyes off of your children.
“Scorpius!” Hermione cried out as she took in his soaked, muddy clothes. “What have you done?”
Her son looked up at her after bringing his foot down into the shallow water below him once more. The spray hit her ankles this time. “Stomping,” was all he said.
Hermione just looked down at him, his blonde hair beginning to darken by the rapidly increasing rainfall, the dragon leather shoes Draco had insisted he needed were half submerged in a puddle of street water, and silver eyes wide, waiting for her reaction.
He appeared to register that his mother was unhappy with his behavior and he seemed to visibly shrink in shame for disobeying.
Hermione felt a raindrop hit the back of her neck and trickle down her spine, making her flinch.
She would address this at home. Right now, they needed to get to the Apparition point.
“Come on, love,” she said firmly as she dug for her wand and cast a water repellant charm. Scorpius didn’t protest when she had them break into a run.
He giggled as they swerved around people and puddles, the charm keeping them from getting any wetter than they already were.
By the time they skidded to a halt at the point, and waited their turn, they were both breathless and laughing. Hermione brushed his damp hair off of his eyes and he leaned his cheek against her hip in a hug.
“Shall we go get cleaned up and then celebrate sissy?” Hermione asked as she took his hand again.
Scorpius dipped his chin. “Yes.”
“Alright then, get ready for the squeeze, darling. Hold on.”
With a resounding snap, the pair disappeared from the tiled circle.
They landed just outside their country home, which was thankfully bereft of downpours. They trudged up the stone path, and Hermione could hear the water squelching out of Scorpius’s shoes with every step.
“Sit here and let’s take these off before you walk inside.” Hermione helped him sit on the doorstep and pulled his socks and shoes off. Scorpius wiggled his toes and scrunched them together, experimenting with the pruney feeling. “Head straight upstairs, you need a quick bath.”
Scorpius forgot about his toes as he got to his feet. “Mummy! I need to give Lyra her books!”
Hermione opened the front door and ushered him inside. “You will. Bath first. Go upstairs and take off your wet clothes, I’ll meet you there in one minute. Okay?”
“Okay,” he moped as he trudged past all of the grown-ups in the sitting room, moodily ignoring their greetings.
She had barely closed the front door behind her when her husband was there, one arm cradling their youngest and the other snaking around her waist to keep her still as he pressed a kiss to her cheek.
“What’d he get her?” Draco asked as Hermione inspected Leo.
“Some books. We got caught in mud puddles so I need to give him a bath quickly. Think you can manage for another five minutes?”
“Of course,”
Pulled in different directions once again, Hermione slung her beaded bag on the coatrack and clipped up the stairs to find her four year old naked as the day he was born pouring liquid hand soap into the empty shower basin.
Hermione shook her head and rolled up her sleeves.
True to her word, they were back downstairs five minutes later.
“Hey, where’d your shirt go?” Theo demanded, hauling a giggling Scorpius into his arms. “You promised you’d never take it off!” Theo pushed his lip out in an exaggerated pout, making Scorpius giggle again. He had gifted Scorpius a shirt reading Future Slytherin and though Hermione had threatened to burn it, she had let her son wear it earlier, before it had gotten splattered with wet dirt particles, that is.
“Mummy needed to clean it!”
“Did she?” Theo tickled his stomach.
With the boy now clean and in good hands, Hermione sidled up to Draco who stood against the kitchen counters. He had, at some point, exchanged Leo for Lyra and was trying to keep her from wriggling out of his arms.
“Hello,” Hermione said cheerfully to the both of them as she wrapped an arm around his back.
“Hello,” he said only to her, turning his face as a grin crept across it. “All clean?”
“All clean,” she reassured, taking the squirming girl from his arms. Lyra settled on her mother’s hip and consented to looking around the room at the people gathered there.
Hermione followed her daughter’s eyes as she ran gentle fingers through her dark blonde curls. Gathered around their kitchen were all the people they loved; Harry, Ginny and their kids, Ron, Theo holding Scorpius, Pansy, Neville, Blaise, Narcissa with Leo, and other assorted Weasleys.
Draco’s arm wrapped firmly around her hip and she leaned into him, falling more in love every day with the man he was and the life he’d given her. They all sang happy birthday to Lyra, who looked at everyone with equal judgement, and shared the cake Hermione had made earlier.
Hermione ran a damp cloth over Scorpius’s mouth to clean the frosting off of his round cheeks as she tried to escape and play with Albus and James. Pansy fawned over Lily and Lyra, and Narcissa hoarded Leo so fiercely, you’d have thought he was her only grandchild.
The illusion was broken as Leo dribbled regurgitated milk all over Narcissa’s shoulder and Hermione swiftly retrieved him.
Draco charmed his mother’s robes clean as Hermione bounced Leo on her shoulder, turning to press her nose into the soft down on his head.
Her life was busy and messy and full, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.