Hugo stared out the rain-streaked window. He was driven nearly mad with boredom. It had been raining for three bloody days straight, and he felt that if didn't go outside to play soon that he was going to explode.

Hugo tossed a quick glance over at his sister, Rose. She was doing what she usually did, rain or shine, read.

I think I'll go outside for a while. Her nose is stuck so far in her dumb book; I'll be back inside before Rosie even knows I'm gone!

Hugo snuck quietly across the room and he would've made it to the door if only he'd remembered about the loose floorboard.

Creak!

The sudden noise startled Rose from her reading, and she looked up from her book just as Hugo was getting ready to turn the doorknob.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" She asked.

"None of your beeswax!"

"I'll have you know it is my business," Rose replied.

"Since when?" Hugo asked.

"Since Mum and Dad left me in charge," Rose answered with an air of superiority.

"So?"

"So," Rose answered condescendingly, "this means you have to do what I say."

"Does not."

"Does too."

"Does not."

Rose sighed in frustration at her brother's childish behaviour. "Mum doesn't want you to play in the rain. You'll catch a cold," Rose reminded him, trying her best to be nice.

"Fine, then," Hugo huffed. "I guess I'll go play in the attic instead."

"You're not allowed to be in the attic."

"Who says?"

"Dad. He says every time you go up there you break something."

"I do not!" Hugo exclaimed indignantly!"

"Do so!"

Do no-"

"I'm not going to argue about this anymore," she interrupted. "You're not allowed in the attic and

that's final."

"That's final," Hugo mimicked. He stuck his tongue out at her before making a mad dash for the stairs.

"HUGO, YOU COME RIGHT BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!"

"Make me!"

Rose sighed and laid her book aside before getting up to fetch her brother. If he gets me in trouble, I'll kill him, she thought as she angrily stomped up the stairs.

Rose made it to the top of the stairs just in time to hear the sound of something crashing to the floor.

"Oof! Oww!"

Rose rushed into the attic to find Hugo sprawled on the floor, an old trunk tilted over on its side, open, with its contents spilled all over the floor.

"What in Merlin's name did you do?!" She hurried over, knelt down, and started to collect the papers that had scattered every which way.

"I'm fine, Rosie. Thanks for asking," Hugo said as he got up and brushed himself off. Ignoring him, Rose continued to clean up his mess. Hugo got down beside her and started to help. He scooped up a pile of old papers and envelopes and dumped them unceremoniously into the trunk.

"Could you be any more sloppy?" Rose complained. She reached inside and rearranged the pile of papers so that it was stacked neatly.

"Sorry," Hugo grumbled. He gathered up another armful of envelopes, and in his haste to finish the job, he didn't notice one of them was open causing a few photographs to fall out and float gently to the floor. He reached over to grab the photos from off the floor when something peculiar in one of the photos caught his attention: His mother was standing beside a man with white-blonde hair. She was smiling up at him with a small bundle in her arms.

That's weird. Since when does Mum have another family, he wondered.

He flipped to another photo in the stack. In this one was a grave with the name Draco Malfoy carved into the granite surface. A single rose with a silver and green ribbon tied around the stem had been laid on top of the tombstone in memory of the person buried there. Hugo pocketed the grave photo before showing the other one to Rose.

He crawled over to Rose and showed her the photo asking, "Did you know Mum had another family?"

"What? We're the only family Mum has."

"Are we? Are we, really?"

"Yes, of course. Don't be ridiculous!"

"I have something that proves otherwise." Hugo shoved the photograph in Rose's face.

After Rose had examined the photo for a moment, she said, "This really isn't proof of anything. He's probably just an old friend," she said reasonably.

"An old friend with a baby," Hugo said skeptically.

"Yes," Rose answered, suddenly unsure of herself.

"I've got to tell Mum about this! She'll be able to explain things!" Hugo exclaimed.

Rose snatched the photo away from him and said, "Don't you dare! If Mum wants us to know about the man in the photo, she'll tell us."

"Why wouldn't she want us to know?" Hugo asked curiously. Do you think she's hiding something? Something bad?

"No, I don't think Mum is hiding something bad," Rose answered "A woman is allowed to have her secrets. When Mum wants us to know she'll tell us until then, don't go bothering her with questions. And to make sure you won't go pestering her, I'll just keep this picture for safekeeping. Hopefully, you'll forget it ever existed." And with these final words, Rose pocketed the photograph and went back downstairs.

Hugo watched her walk away. Smiling to himself, he patted his pocket and thought, We'll just see about that.
_

Later that evening, the Granger-Weasleys were finishing dinner when Hugo decided that he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer.

"Mum who's Draco Malfoy?"

Hermione's eyes widened, and she nearly choked on her sip water. She quickly regained her composure and asked, "Where'd you hear that name?"

"I just heard it somewhere," Hugo answered.

"Where?" Hermione asked again. She looked towards the end of the table at Ron and said, "You told them something. Didn't you?"

"Told us what?" Rose asked curiously.

Ron looked up from his plate at Hermione and answered, "I didn't tell anyone anything, 'Mione."

"Well, if you didn't say anything, who told them about Draco?"

To save his dad from any further interrogation, Hugo pulled out the picture from his pocket and handed it over to his mother saying, "I saw it in this photo."

Hermione took the photo from Hugo and glanced at it silently for a few moments. Finally looking up from the photo, she asked, "Where'd you get this?"

"That's not important," Hugo answered quickly. "Who is he?"

"An old friend," Hermione answered evasively.

"See, I told you," Rose smiled, proud, for once again, being right.

"You both went through my things? Is there no such thing as privacy and respect for another person's belongings in this household?"

"The only reason I know about this is because I was cleaning up the mess that Hugo made in the attic," Rose defended herself.

"What have I told you two about being in the attic?" Ron asked.

Hermione held her hand up to keep Ron from lecturing the children. "It's alright, Sweetheart," she sighed. "They were bound to find out about it sooner or later."

"Find out about what?" Hugo asked impatiently.

"Mione, you don't-"

Hermione silenced her husband with a look. "Yes, I do. It's high time they knew."

Ron shook his head and speared another bite of meatloaf with his fork. "If you're sure, Love."

"I'm sure," Hermione said.

"Sure about what, Mum," Rose asked.

Hermione took a deep breath and answered, "You two know about the Boy Who Lived, but have you heard about the Man Who Died?"

"No," the children answered in unison.

"Calling Malfoy a man is a bit of a stretch," Ron muttered.

Ignoring him, Hermione continued, "Well, in order for the story to make sense, I'll need to start at the beginning."

"I'd be interested in this," Ron said. "I never completely understood how you could procreate with that ferret in the first place."

"Procreate? What is he talking about, Mum?" Rose asked nervously; remembering the photograph stored in her own pocket.

"All will be explained in time, Rose," Hermione answered calmly. She glared at Ron. "Your father was just getting ahead of himself. That's all."

"How does Dad play a part in all this?" Hugo asked.

"If everyone would quit asking questions long enough for me to begin the story, all your questions will be answered soon enough."

"Sorry," Hugo said.

Hermione nodded and said, "Our story starts during the summer holiday after Fifth Year..."