Hi to everyone who found this story, despite it being rather short and not marked as a pairing. Fair warning in beforehand. If you agree with the views of conservative purebloods or similar groups, this story might not be for you. If you take a look at my profile and see what other stories I have written you will know what I mean by that. This story will only be a handful of short chapters and I would be surprised if it surpasses 5000 words, so do not expect a novel. To everyone still on board, I am glad to see you here.
Now, on with the story.
"Marcus!" Rose Parkinson bellowed up the stairs of Parkinson Manor, in a manner that did not seem to fit the usually so stern and reserved woman.
"What is it?" the Parkinson patriarch inquired as he stepped down the stairs towards his wife.
"Look!" She pointed at the charmed family tapestry. It depicted at large apple tree swaying lightly in the wind, which held all the pureblooded members of the Parkinson family, their faces visible on the apples that adorned the tree. Several branches ended in the names of other pureblood families, such as the Greengrass, the Black, or the Yaxley, indicating that their blood ran on in those lines. In the crown of the tree sat the three living members of the Parkinson family, Rose Parkinson (née Flint), Marcus Parkinson, and above them their daughter, Pansy Parkinson. The thing that had them excited was the little hanging above Pansy's head, on a flowering branch reaching towards the roof that had not been there the day before.
"An heir! Finally. We're going to be grandparents!" Rose Parkinson threw her arms around her husband's neck. While a male heir would have been preferable, their daughter's lack of interest in any and all possible suitors they had introduced her to in the four years since her graduation from Hogwarts had had them fearing that Pansy would not have any children at all, so Rose was more than content with a female heir. Not to mention, if there was one kid there might be others on their way later.
Marcus remained a bit more skeptical. "She is not even married. With a bastard child, we can only disown the kid or risk seeing ourselves thrown out of the sacred 28 for making an illegitimate child heir of the house."
His wife was having none of that. "We will just organize a quick wedding. If she is married to the child's father before the birth, it won't make a difference. Let's just visit her quickly. If the child was conceived last night the child's father will probably still be there. We'll just wait for them in the living room, and then have a nice breakfast with them, and smoothen out the details. Come on!" She dragged him over to the chimney in a way that made him think of several parties they had attended together before Pansy's birth, where she would drag him off to a closet, under the stairs, some far off guest bedroom to snog and more. A broad smile stole itself onto his face as she threw a bit of floo powder into the chimney, clearly pronouncing "Pansy Parkinson's house, Chudley" before dragging him through the chimney.
The smile slipped from his face as soon as he stepped out of the chimney and into his daughter's living room.