Author's Note: This takes place seven years after the events of "The Baby Boy." Draco is seven-years-old, and the First Wizarding War has been over for six years.


Lucius came home from the Ministry one day to the sight of his seven-year-old son, Draco, sitting on his grandfather's lap.

Abraxas was reading Draco a story with a false smile on his face, sounding for all the world like he was a loving, benevolent grandfather.

Lucius had to restrain himself from strangling his father.

Abraxas looked up from the book and noticed that Lucius was standing in the doorway.

"Lucius," he greeted fondly. He had to keep up appearances in front of Draco, after all.

"Father," Lucius returned through gritted teeth.

"Daddy," Draco cried out excitingly as he tried to pull himself off his grandfather's lap.

Abraxas, however, restrained Draco, keeping the young boy on his lap. There was a slight frown on the older man's face.

"You know you're not supposed to call him 'Daddy,' Draco," Abraxas lectured, even though he made sure to keep his voice from becoming too harsh. "That's a word that a filthy Muggle, Mudblood, or Blood-Traitor would use. And you're better than all of them."

"I'm sorry, Grandfather," Draco replied, "I forgot myself." He then directed his attention back to Lucius. "Father," he greeted, his voice now very formal.

"Draco," Lucius returned, holding out an arm to indicate that he wanted his son to come to him.

Draco was happy to obey. He scrambled off Abraxas's lap and made his way over to his father.

Lucius wrapped his arm around Draco and pulled the boy close to him.

"Did you have a good day, Draco?" Lucius asked.

"Yes, I did," Draco answered happily.

The frown on Abraxas's face had grown by this point.

"You need to touch your son better manners, Lucius," Abraxas said, his voice still sweet and kind. "He didn't tell me 'thank you' for reading his favorite story to him."

"I'm sorry, Grandfather," Draco spoke before Lucius could say anything. "I just was really happy to see my father. Thank you, Grandfather, for reading my favorite story to me."

"It was no problem at all," Abraxas smiled. "I love that story almost as much as you do."

Draco grinned at his grandfather.

"Why don't you go find your mother, Draco?" Lucius said.

"She's out in the garden," Draco responded.

"All right," Lucius returned. "Go tell her I'll be out there in a little while."

Draco nodded his head before leaving the room.

As soon as Draco was gone, Abraxas stood up. "I can't believe you still let him get away with calling you 'Daddy,' Lucius. You know that's not proper."

All false sweetness and kindness had completely left Abraxas's voice.

"Draco is still young," Lucius retorted. "He still has several years before he must keep up appearances at school. Let him be a child while he can. He will have more than enough time to be an adult. Besides, Draco always makes sure to call Narcissa and I 'Mother' and 'Father' whenever we have guests."

"Your wife thinks it's cute when Draco calls her 'Mommy,'" Abraxas scowled. "Perhaps you need to remind her that Draco is a Pureblood."

"I will not hear you speak another word against Narcissa," Lucius snarled. "I have no complains with how she is raising Draco, so you shouldn't either."

"Your wife is going to make that boy weak," Abraxas responded.

"I am not going to raise Draco as you raised me," Lucius hissed.

"If you truly loved your son, you would," Abraxas replied. "I made you strong, Lucius, strong enough to endure everything that has come your way."

"It's been a while since you've called me 'strong,'" Lucius said mockingly. "Perhaps we should have a party to celebrate this momentous occasion."

"Don't take that sarcastic tone with me, Lucius," Abraxas growled. "No wonder Draco is so lacking in manners. He's just like his father."

"It truly never fails to amaze me," Lucius drawled, "how in the space of one sentence from you, I go from being 'strong' to being a huge disappointment." With that, Lucius turned and left the room before his father could start complaining about something else.

Such as Draco's favorite book. According to Abraxas, that book was much too childish.

Narcissa, however, didn't seem to have a problem with the book; so Lucius didn't have a problem with it either.

Lucius just didn't a good job of reading the book to Draco. Narcissa, though, made up for that. She was always able to make Draco laugh whenever she read his favorite story to him.

That was something Abraxas had never been able to do in anything that he had ever done with Draco. He had never been able to make his grandson laugh.


Lucius made his way out to the garden. It did not take him long to find his wife and son.

"Hi, Lucius," Narcissa greeted. "How was your day?"

"It was fine until I saw my father," Lucius answered.

"Why is there so much tension between you and Grandfather?" Draco asked, his voice full of childlike curiosity and innocence.

Lucius looked to Narcissa for help. If he tried to explain his relationship with his father, it wouldn't end pleasant. As diplomatic as Lucius was in most situations, he just found it hard to be diplomatic when it came to Abraxas.

"Your Grandfather comes from a different age," Narcissa explained to Draco. "He has slightly different beliefs than your Father and I do. It's just a generation thing. Each one is a little different from the one before it."

"Oh," Draco replied, "I guess I understand. I think I'll go get ready for dinner. I'm getting hungry."

"We'll be there shortly," Lucius said.

Lucius and Narcissa watched as Draco disappeared from sight.

"I'm sorry that you had to catch Draco with your father," Narcissa spoke, "but Draco likes to spend time with him."

"Yes, Father is so good at acting like the perfect grandfather," Lucius drawled. "One day, though, Draco will see through all his lies."

Narcissa shifted uncomfortably.

"What's wrong, Narcissa?" Lucius asked in concern.

"You're not mad at me?"

"For what?"

"For letting your father near Draco."

"Like you said," Lucius spoke, "Draco adores the old bastard. If we tried to keep them apart, Draco would only grow to resent us. Our son is still naive and innocent, and my dear father knows how to use that to his advantage."

"I always keep a close eye on them," Narcissa said, "to make sure that your father never does anything to hurt Draco. So far, he hasn't."

"Well, if that changes," Lucius replied, "let me know immediately. We have both tolerated more than enough from my father. But I will never tolerate him hurting Draco."

Narcissa nodded her head. There was, however, a worried expression on her face. The bond that Abraxas had created with Draco had always been an area of concern for her.

And she knew the same held true for Lucius. Even more than her, Lucius had suffered at his father's hands. The last thing he would ever want would be for Draco to suffer as he had.


Narcissa knocked on her son's bedroom door. "Draco," she called out, "it's time for breakfast. You can't sleep the whole day away. Draco."

There was no response.

"And to think I used to be glad when Draco stopped being such a restless sleeper like his father," Narcissa grumbled under her breath. "Now he sleeps too well."

Narcissa opened the door and walked into the room.

It quickly became clear that Draco was not sleeping. He was shifting uncomfortably in his bed, and he was groaning in pain.

Narcissa immediately raced over to her son's bedside.

Draco was completely soaked in sweat. Everything about him, including his bedclothes, was wet.

Out of instinct, Narcissa placed a hand on Draco's forehead. She quickly pulled her hand away. Draco was burning up.

Draco didn't seem to register his mother's presence. Instead, his only response was to groan some more.

This was beyond just a common cold that could easily and quickly be cured with one of Lucius's prepared potions. This was something much more serious.

"Dobby!" Narcissa shrieked.

There was a crack, and Dobby appeared in the room.

"Yes, Mistress."

Narcissa placed a hand on Draco's shoulder.

"Apparate us directly to St. Mungo's," Narcissa ordered. She didn't trust herself to safely Apparate with Draco in her current condition. She was much too worried.

It made no sense to her. Draco had been just fine when she and Lucius had put him to bed the night before. How could Draco have gotten this sick overnight?

It was definitely something serious; Narcissa could feel it in her bones.