Work Text:
8:30 Am
Calle finally had a free hour That’s all she wanted this morning.
The sun was already warm through the tall windows, spilling gold across the wooden floors. Outside, the garden was lazy and green, birds cutting through the clear air.
Inside, the house smelled faintly of paint and coffee. Her canvas was set up by the window, brushes laid out in neat rows, music low and soft enough to think to-
thunk...
a suspicious dripping sound, and the very pleased giggling of her 2-year-old echoing through the house. Who is a mini Draco in every way that’s inconvenient.
Same sharp grey eyes
same pale hair
same smug tilt to his chin even when he’s covered in disaster.
And just like his father, Alaric Hyperion Malfoy thinks “learning new magic” is a valid excuse for setting the house on fire. Or, apparently, dyeing himself.
Calla set her brush down.
"Alaric?" she called.
No answer. Just more giggling. And some very wet squishing noises.
She turned the corner into the bathroom and holy mother —
Alaric Hyperion Malfoy is standing in the tub in just his pajamas, hair dripping bright pink dye all over the white tiles.
His blonde curls are now cotton-candy pink
his hands are pink
his face has a pink streak
.....and there’s an empty box of “Potion #56: Temporary Color Charm” on the floor.
Draco Lucius Malfoy is leaning against the doorframe with his wand half-raised and the exact look of a man who knows he’s getting blamed.
Calla blinked. “What. Happened ?”
Draco sighed. “I might’ve hypothetically told him about that time I dyed harry's hair green for a prank.”
She slowly turned to her son. Alaric grinned at her, two years old and covered head to toe in pink, wand tucked behind his ear like a tiny menace. He held up a glob of dye like it’s a trophy.
“Alaric. Hyperion. Malfoy.”
His eyes went wide.
“You dyed your hair pink?”
Alaric nodded very proudly. “It was supposed to be blue!”
“That does not make it better!”
Pink water dripped onto her favorite painting shoes.
Calla pinched the bridge of her nose. “New house rule. No ‘cool like Daddy’ experiments And no using dye without asking.”
Alaric considered this, then pointed at her canvas and whispered, “Can we paint it pink too?”
Draco groaned. “I did not teach him that.”
Calla looked at the pink toddler, the pink bathroom, and her abandoned canvas.
So much for a quiet morning.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked straight at her son.
“You… to the shower now.”
Alaric immediately puffed out his cheeks and gave her those big, wet, innocent eyes. Pink water dripped down his chin.
Draco snorted from behind her. “He gets it from your side of the family, honestly.”
Calla turned on him so fast. She looked at him in disbelief and poked his chest. "He is literally a copy of you. Don't go around blaming my side of the family.”
Draco raised both hands in surrender, but his mouth twitched. “A copy of me? Please. I never dyed my hair in a bathtub at age two. I had staff for that.”
Calla narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, and that arrogance is exactly why we’re mopping pink off the tiles instead of having brunch, mr.malfoy”
Alaric chose that moment to stomp his foot, sending a wave of pink water across both their shoes. “I wanted blue!” he announced proudly, like that explains everything.
Calla scooped him up. He’s slippery, and 100% pink.
Draco followed her to the shower, still smirking. “My side of the family does produce very talented troublemakers, I’ll give you that.”
“Out,” she said, pointing at the door with her paint-stained hand.
He didn’t move. Just watched as she started rinsing pink out of tiny curls while Alaric sang to himself.
"Turn around, bright eyes
Every now and then, I fall apart
Turn around, bright eyes"
( a Song by Bonnie Tyler)
Draco stayed leaning in the doorway, watching them, a faint smile tugging at his mouth that he didn’t bother hiding anymore. The glowing shower tiles had stopped pulsing, and the steam curled warm around all three of them, softening the edges of the morning chaos.
“At least the dye won’t last,” he said quietly. “Wizarding hair colour fades in a week.”
Calla sighed, wrapped Alaric in a towel that immediately turned pale pink, and handed him over.
“Dress him up.”
Draco caught Alaric easily when the boy flung his wet arms around his neck, ruining Draco’s crisp button down with pink-tinged water. He huffed, but adjusted his grip to hold him tighter, already heading toward the nursery.
"Come on, you menace. Let’s find you something that doesn’t have a chocolate stain on the front.”
Alaric giggled and patted Draco’s cheek with a still-pink hand. “Like Daddy?”
“Nothing like me,” Draco muttered, but Calla caught the way his mouth softened anyway.
She watched them disappear down the hall, father and son both dripping and ridiculous, then turned back to the bathroom. She rinsed the last of the dye from the tiles, wrung out her paint-stained shirt, and decided the canvas could wait.
08:30 pm
Alaric was curled between them, fast asleep with his head on Draco’s thigh. Draco ran a slow hand through his hair, then leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Alaric forehead.
“Calla. I never thought this could be… nice.”
You lay your head on his shoulder. “This?”
He tilts his head to rest his cheek on the top of yours. His shoulder is warm and solid under you, his breath soft against your hair. Outside, the moonlight filters through the kitchen window, gilding the edges of the quiet room.
“This. Us. All the chaos.” His voice is low, almost like he doesn’t want to wake Alaric. “It’s nicer than anything I ever thought I’d get.”
Calla’s heart did something stupid in her chest.
You hum, tracing patterns on his sleeve with your thumb.
A min passed....
"What happened to Harry? Do you know where he is rn?” you ask, curious.
He snorts, rolling his eyes even as his mouth tugs into a faint, amused grin. He shifts a little to keep Alaric comfortable, still holding your hand tight in his.
“Last I heard, he’s chasing three of his own kids around the Ministry after they turned Crouch’s old desk yellow. ”
You chuckle. “Hermione and Ron?”
He huffs a laugh, brushing a strand of hair off Alaric’s forehead. The faint pink glow from his dye still catches the light. He shrugs, gaze drifting back to the quiet television screen.
“Ron’s still complaining about his work at the Ministry. Hermione’s got him wrapped around her finger, same as always. Nothing’s changed.”
“Mmm and what about you?”
He pauses. His thumb brushes slow circles over the back of your hand, quiet for a long moment as he looks down at the sleeping boy in his lap. When he speaks, his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it before.
“Me? I’ve got everything I ever needed right here. What more could I ask for?”
Your hand slides to his palm and you place the pregnancy test there.
"What about this ?"
He froze.
His breath caught in his throat. Eyes darted from the test in her hand up to her face, then back down to Alaric still sleeping peacefully on his lap. His fingers tightened around hers, pale knuckles going white, and his eyes glistened just a little.
For a second he didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then his arm came around her, pulling her closer, and he buried his face in her hair. She felt him shaking not from anger, not from stress.
From something else entirely.
“You’re… you’re serious?”
Calla chuckled and kissed his jaw. “Mmm hmm.” She nodded against him. “I hope it’s twins. I’ve always wanted one.”
Alaric stirred between them, mumbled sleepily, “More green cookies… and pink hair for dad too” and settled again.
He choked on a laugh, shaking his head as he pulled her closer against his side, one hand still resting gentle on her hip. His eyes crinkled at the corners, warm with delight that he couldn’t even bother to hide.
“Twins? Calla, you’re going to be the death of me. I can barely handle one. Two more? I’ll need a whole case of firewhiskey by the end of it.”
Calla nodded against his shoulder. “Two girls ?... who can keep you and Alaric both too busy to do any other stupid thing.”
He snorted a laugh, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, then leaned down to press another slow, gentle one to her lips . Alaric stirred, blinking blearily up at them, and Draco’s voice went soft, warm.
“Two little girls. Sounds perfect. We’ll be outnumbered and outmatched. Exactly how we deserve.”
Calla kissed his nose.
He scrunched his nose up at the kiss, grinning, and pulled her tighter against his chest so her head rested right over his heart. She could feel it hammering fast under her skin, giddy with a joy he never thought he’d get to have.
“I love you. Both of you… three of us, soon four, or five. All of it. I love all of it.”
And as Calla wished, she birthed twins. A girl and a boy.
Five Years Later
The sitting room was even more chaotic than before.
A small blonde girl Lyra Elowen Malfoy who is currently playing with her big brother Alaric. A boy Cassian Draco Malfoy who was tugging on Draco’s hair. And Alaric, now 7 and far too confident, was teaching Lyra how to dye someone’s hair pink again.
Calla chuckled and sipped her coffee while sitting on the couch and watching them.
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at her, helpless.
“I knew this was going to happen. You did this on purpose.”
Her coffee sloshed in the mug when Cassian came barreling into her leg, clinging to her knee with sticky jam fingers. Draco shot Calla a mock-exasperated look over his shoulder.
“You’re just going to sit there and drink coffee while I handle this, are you?”
“Mm I enjoy seeing you in distress.”
She put the coffee away and lifted the little boy, placing him on her lap and cleaning his fingers and mouth.
He snorted, brushing crumbs off his shirt he flopped down next to her, exhausted.
“You’re evil. I married an evil person.”
Alaric immediately abandoned his hexing lesson and came scrambling over to the couch to collapse into calla's open arDs and following his lead lyra crawled towards drago. Draco watched, a soft smile tugging at his mouth, as the whole couch piled full of wiggly kids.
“Calla. We actually did this. We made this whole messy, wonderful thing.”
"We did, didn’t we?”
“Here.” Calla placed something his palm, smiling evilly.
A pregnancy kit
His smile dropped. He blinked down at the pregnancy test in his hand, then back up at her face, then at the pile of kids already climbing all over the couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose so hard his whole face went pink.
“You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking. I’m too old for this.”
Calla chuckled and shook her head. “Should’ve kept it in your pants.”
He gaped at her for a second, then snorted, shaking his head and tugging her closer to press a loud, dramatic kiss to her cheek, getting the kids giggling all around them.
“Oh, fine. Another one. I’ve survived three already. I can survive a four. Calla help me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Calla looked at the kids "All right,Allright. Listen up Malfoy minons.Daddy and I have some news. You’re getting another sibling.”
Alaric whooped as his eyes gone wide "Like, a real baby? Not a plant?”
Lyra clapped her hands and yelled “another cat ?! Can we name it? Can it wear pink?”
and Cassian on her lap grabbed her shirt and babbled something unintelligible that sounded like approval “BAH!” and claps your stomach.
Draco buries his face in your shoulder, laughing.
“See? They’re just as excited as I am… well, maybe not about sharing their toys"
Calla chuckled and kissed his lips.
The kids all booed loudly. Alaric threw a couch pillow at Draco. Draco laughed into the kiss, wrapping an arm tight around her waist to hold her close. The whole room hummed warm with laughter and chaos.
Calla : I won’t have it any other way either