Lucius Malfoy was not happy. He hadn't been happy for the last two weeks and today he was particularly foul.

Mr. Malfoy was getting on in years. No longer was he a sportingly man in his forties. Never would be say he was too old, but he was very adamant that he was not a hatching dragon anymore. Still, with long, platinum blonde hair with flecks of grey, the same cold grey eyes and a few new wrinkles, he was still a sight fit for intimidation. Lucius was wearing a scowl a certain June morning; the 15th to be exact. Normally, he and Narcissa would be rather happy this time of year. This was the time that Draco would return from Hogwarts.
But that was ages ago. Draco was no longer a school boy. No; now he was a man who worked for the ministry. Rest assured, Draco was still the handsome blonde with familiar grey eyes and pale, pointed features as in his Hogwarts youth. The only difference between him and a young Lucius really was that Draco's hair was kept similar to his final time at school, but still much shorter than his fathers.

On that certain June the 15th, Lucius was in the master bedroom of Malfoy Manor, finishing getting his robes set and buttoned correctly.
"Lucius?" came a gentle voice from the doorway.
Lucius looked in the mirror rather than turning to see his wife in the doorway.
Narcissa Malfoy was the youngest of the ancient bloodline and most noble Black sisters. She too would never say she was too old for the goings about of their world, but a few lines and crows feet did grace her fair complexion. Her eyes, however, were still as light (if not crystal) blue as they had been in her youth. The same could be said for her light blonde hair, which today was in a tight bun style.

"Draco?" Lucius asked sternly, not moving, but only making eye contact with his wife through mirrored glass.
Draco was in his own room. His room was also on the second floor of their home, just a few doors down from his parents. The second floor was mostly bedrooms, including a room Draco used as a nursery; but that was next door to his parents.
This morning, Draco was not going to work. Rather, he and his parents were going to the Leaky Cauldron. Normally, Draco didn't fancy pubs with his parents, but today, they were a necessity. In his hand (which was getting a bit sweaty), he held a letter. A letter that was sent about 2 weeks ago, a letter that was the reason for Lucius's anger, and the reason he and his parents were off to the pub.
Draco messily shoved the letter in his pocket and after a breath, hoping there some kind of mistake, left his room and meeting his parents at the front door downstairs. There was a mad discontent in his fathers face, and his mother just looked concerned. No one would be surprised.

"Ready?" growled Lucius, trying to sound calm.
"Yes, Father," Draco said quietly.
All three of them stepped out of their large mansion where a car, with driver, courtesy of the Ministry was waiting to drive them. When Draco had arranged for the ride, he managed to get something called a 'limo'. Apparently, they were what high powered and wealthy muggles drove around in.
Since the downfall of You-Know-Who, some were reluctant to allow the Malfoy family back into commerce and the Ministry. As much as Draco hated it, it was perhaps Harry Potter's testimony that granted Draco his comfortable office job and spared his family from becoming a social pariah.

The Malfoys sat in silence in the back the limo as the driver made way through the streets, only stopping at the brown and rather downtrodden looking pub. Without a word, the family exited the car and entered the Leaky Cauldron. A very dingy, if not shabby place filled with magical energy and characters.
Draco knew who to look for, and nervously scanned the room.

"Can I help you?"
All three Malfoys turned quickly to the female who called.
It was a girl who went to school with Draco. Hannah Abbot: the formerly pink-faced pig-tail wearing Hufflepuff girl. Well, now it would be Hannah Longbottom; not-as-pink-faced-who-traded-pigtails-for-a-short-French-braid.

"No…. thank you," Draco murmured.
Hannah rolled her eyes as she turned herself to go back to work. Lucius couldn't help but think that if things were like they used to be; she'd be like her mother right about then.

"Do you see her?" Narcissa asked.
"No, Mother, I-"
Draco cut himself off when he spotted a woman sitting alone in a dark corner sipping from a cup.
"There."
Slowly, all three walked over. It was almost comical. Three distinguished and well dressed purebloods moving about as if there was something to worry about. But how true was their reasoning?
"Are you-"
"Yes. I am."
The woman cut Draco off and made a motion for the family to sit down by bowing her head. The table wasn't in the brightest corner of the place, but it as obvious that this woman was not in the best of conditions. Her hair was very long, limp, and rather dirty (natural and clean, however, a pleasant auburn color). Her nails were long with some dirt under them, and her way of dress was rather sloppy. She was sipping loudly from a large tea cup, but it seemed there was only a drop of drink remaining.

Just as Lucius could feel a new scowl form, the woman looked up. She had hazel eyes that had long lost luster. She took a moment to look at the people sitting across from her, and smiled wickedly.

"Look-eh here. Good ol' Malfoys!" she squeaked.
There was a long silence, with the woman still smiling strangely.
"…Astoria?"
The woman's smile faded quickly. Her face contorted to anger, very similar to Lucius.

Astoria Greengrass was many things: younger daughter of Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin, pureblood, recently disgraced mother.

"I-is it true?" Narcissa asked quietly.
Astoria slurped loudly from the cup once more, this time causing people from all around to look over at the table.
Lucius looked over at the stairs at the other end of the room that led to the rooms in the inn portion. When two girls came walking toward the table, Lucius cringed. Both because the one girl especially shown a striking resemblance to his son, and because her hair was a deep faux-purple.
As they walked over, the older girl had a hand on her baby sisters' shoulder. The little one was giggling but it seemed her joy feel on deaf ears.

The older one was defiantly school-aged. She looked very much like Draco; same pale, sharp skin and features with grey eyes. Her face was very feminine, but this was offset by her hair which in addition to being faux-purple was short, edgy and even a bit choppy.

The little one was much younger and defiantly not in school. She was cute, wearing a lilac shirt with ruffled sleeves. Her hair was the trademark Malfoy-blonde which was tied into a high ponytail and her eyes were rounder than her sisters but a hazel color. In her hair was a heart-shaped barrette that was a very pale pink color.
"C'mere, girls," called Astoria."
It looked as if the older one was struggling to walk her and guide her sister over to her mother who stood up. Astoria placed a hand on each girls shoulder and said in tone that dripped resentment but was disguised as motherly pride, "Octavia is our eldest, while Mildred here is the babe-eh."
A wicked smile.

"What do you want, Astoria?" Draco asked weakly.
Astoria kept her grin and her hand on the girls and said, "It's not what I want; so much as what these poor girls do."
To add insult to injury; Astoria made sure she looked pout and made her tone match.

"Draco, these girls need a dad-eh. Y' think you could do these girls a favor for once in their lives?"
Narcissa held her husbands hand under the table, as if asking him to say something. But Lucius would not move his lips; this was Draco's battle.

"You want me-"
"To take them!? Yes!" Astoria exclaimed quickly. (once again, the room looked at them from all around).

Octavia and Mildred stood silent, Mildred had ended her giggled before she came to her mother.
Draco stayed quiet. He remembered the note that this woman had sent, the very note crumpled in his pocket. In the note Astoria wrote the girls wanted to see him, but putting names to faces hurt. Two girls who never knew there father. The young Mildred couldn't be more than 9, but the older on, she was almost a woman.

"We'll take them in," Lucius finally said, stiffly.
All eyes shifted to the man.

Astoria smiled one more time and kissed the cheeks of both her children, whispering something to Octavia before leaving.
"We've been living here for a spot," Octavia said, "We'll get our things.".