Scorpius loved magical New York. It wound its way through the city without any rhyme or reason. He entered the magical enclave in the Bronx walked ten minutes to pop out in Manhattan. The whole place hummed with magic. It was nice to be just one person in the massive swirl. In London, he was always aware of the eyes upon him. Here, well, here he was free.
He thought of bringing Rose here. The flash of her blue eyes and the curtain of her red hair would be just as stunning in this light as they were in Scotland, but her father wouldn't hear about them sitting in a café and show up with wand at the ready.
Hecate's hounds, he was sick of Ronald Weasley. The man was a war hero, sure. He'd read the histories. He'd been one of The Three. Everyone bloody well knew it. That he was horribly biased against anyone with the last name Malfoy was a lesser known fact. There were times when he just wanted to rip the man to pieces, slowly.
"Blessed Goddess, forgive me." Scorpius rolled his neck.
Rose loved her father, and there was the rub. Dating a Weasley meant dating all the Weasleys in a weird way. The whole clan still got together for Sunday dinners every week. It was quaint and sweet. He'd listened to Rose wax nostalgic over those precious Sundays for years, but he'd never been invited. They'd been officially and secretly dating for two years because her father wouldn't understand.
Was it so wrong to want to hold her hand in public?
Scorpius knew putting pressure on her wouldn't help, but it was humiliating to be hidden like a bad habit. His family had learned their lesson. The war had left them humbled, at least a bit. They were Malfoys after all. Though there were times when that was a burden, too.
He'd come to America on a whim, wanting to avoid more family time. His parents silent war made the manor a nightmare, and his friend Cassius had been headed across the pond for a bit of fun. It had seemed like a perfect break from all the pressure heading into the final months of his N.E.W.T. year. It was pleasant, but he missed her.
His wild Rose. Always laughing and smiling, she was like sunrise trapped in human form. All hope and fire, full of potential, and lovely.
Rose would acknowledge him once they graduated. He had to believe she just wanted to keep peace in her home until they could make one of their own. He felt guilty for having run off. Not that she would know.
He saw a couple holding hands as they walked down the far side of the street. They looked easy together. Longing filled him.
He saw a bookshop across the way and smiled. He would buy her a gift. Something on American quidditch teams. She'd love it.
The bell over the door rang as he stepped in the shop that was clearly expanded on the inside. There were books everywhere, but it wasn't a dark store. It was quiet and peaceful after the bustle of the street.
"Welcome to Celestial Books." A small elf in a bright green dress smiled up at him. "Can I bes helping you?"
"I'm looking for a book on the American Quidditch League." Scorpius looked around the shop. "It's meant to be a gift."
"The ninth aisle has thoses." The elf smiled. "Many good quidditchy books."
Scorpius nodded his thanks and headed into the shop. He rounded the corner and spotted a familiar witch. She was stocking books. Again and again. He felt his body still and stared at the girl with her wild, silvery blond hair as she reshelved books. She looked to be about his age. She'd smiled at him when he's entered the aisle. It was odd to see a smile on a Malfoyesque face. Malfoys didn't usually smile. A smirk was common enough, but smiles were reserved for truly happy moments. Thus, no smiling.
He couldn't stop staring. She was lovely, but it wasn't attraction that held him.
It was her eyes. Her silver eyes were exactly like his father's. She had to be related to him.
"Get out of my store." The wand pressed into his kidney was no joke. "He promised me I'd never see another one of you lot. Get out."
"I don't know what I've done to offend you." He took a step toward the door and turned to face the person threatening him. She was beautiful. Her hair spilled over her shoulders in a riot of brindled curls. He took a deep breath. He knew her, or rather of her. He'd seen her in history books. "Hermione Granger."
"I'm not playing." She pulled her wand up, and he saw the tip begin to glow with a curse. Her eyes were gone over to a molten swirl of power. "Tell Lucius to fuck himself. I've kept my part of the bargain."
Scorpius blinked. Fear surged through him. This woman was terrifying. She was so much more than the books described. He held up his hands, palms facing her.
"He didn't send you in prepared." She snarled. "I won't be so damn nice to his next minion. Tell him he can Avada his bloody self. I am done."
No one spoke to his grandfather in that manner. The man was terror, and that was a message he would be hard pressed to pass on.
"I didn't come here at his behest." Scorpius frowned. "I didn't tell them where I was going. I didn't mean to disturb you."
"Get out." The warrior woman standing there didn't want to talk. Asking questions would see him hexed. He did not want that. Standing there, facing a legend, he had no doubt his life was in danger. He backed toward the door. There was no way he was going to engage her in a duel.
He stepped out into the street and walked away. He didn't look back. The crowds around him suddenly seemed dangerous. There was security in knowing and being known. He could disappear here and Cassius wouldn't notice for days.
Another blond boy was stalking down the street toward him. Blonder than he was, broader than he was, somehow more than he was, the wizard moved with easy confidence. Scorpius watched him pass and disappear into the bookstore. He felt relief sweep through him, but then curiosity grabbed him.
There was another Malfoy type with Hermione Granger for some unknown reason.
He took a deep breath and ducked into a local pub. He found a corner booth and tried to think. Going to his grandfather with this made the most sense, but it was dangerous. The safe route was to go to his grandmother.
Narcissa Malfoy stared at the array of photographs the man she had hired had sent back from New York. She divided them into groups.
The largest pile focused on the lost member of the Golden Trio. There was no doubt it was the Granger girl. She didn't bother to hide her scars. She was lovely still, but there was no wizard in her life.
She spent time on developing her mind. She held mastery status in four disciplines and worked as a curse breaker. The bookstore was just a way to keep busy in between consultations.
The woman was accomplished, and, by all accounts still a wonderful mother. She'd raised her twins on her own. It hadn't always been easy. She'd managed everything though.
Her eyes darted toward the second pile. Lynx Draconis. She'd followed the Black naming traditions. There was no doubt he was kin to Draco and to her. The boy looked like a blonde version of Sirius. He was tall and proud. He'd done remarkably well in school, graduated early, and was studying his for his mastery in transfiguration. He was a son of which to be proud.
He'd played quidditch in school, served as the Thunderbirds' keeper for five of his seven years.
He'd written a paper on the diminishing use of conjuration and the imbalance in magics that built in constantly transfigured items. It was well received.
The picture of him hugging his sister at their graduation brought a bittersweet smile to her face. Her hands shook as she plucked the top picture from the third pile. She looked into her son's mercury eyes as they stared out of his daughter's face. Lyra Lenore.
The girl was easily as impressive as her brother. Slight where he was broad, she had a gamine grin. Six years as the Thunderbirds' seeker had been enough for her despite offers from professional teams. She was studying for a mastery in potions. She was already credited with helping to develop a treatment for those suffering the long term effects of cruciatus torture.
Narcissa traced her finger along the edge of one of her favorite pictures. Her granddaughter sat on a picnic blanket in a park near their home in New York. She was breathtakingly beautiful with the sunlight in her hair.
Narcissa clenched her fists. These were her grandchildren, and they'd been kept from her. She felt her magic swirling as her rage grew. Draco would never have kept these babies from her, and she doubted the Granger girl would have kept the children from their family.
Lucius had done something. He kept it from her for all these years. Her husband and his stupid plots. He'd cost them so much. Whatever he'd done, he knew she wouldn't have ever approved.
She just knew it.
Narcissa was moving through the manor like a storm cloud trying to figure out how to confront her husband when it occurred to her that the answers she needed were in New York.
"Mother." Astoria called from the main entrance. "Would you like to go to tea?"
Narcissa frowned down at her daughter in law. The girl could have some knowledge. It was unlikely but on the edge of possibility.
"I was thinking of visiting Lyra to do some shopping." She watched the girl for any recognition and saw none. "Perhaps I'll take a day in Bath and head to the spa."
"Wonderful." Astoria grinned up at her. The girl was nice enough, smart enough, and everything else enough. Draco had never been swept away. In fact, her son always seemed to be alone. There might be nothing for it, but she had to try to find out what had happened.
She headed into her study and wrote a quick note to explain her absence. Lucius would never try to join her whilst she was shopping. The spa was simply to frilly for him, though he did like their hair potions. She always kept a few extra bottles with which to pacify him.
She was packed and ready to go in a matter of minutes. She grabbed the permanent portkey to their pied-à-terre in Paris. It would be easy to catch an international portkey from France with none the wiser.
Hermione had been waiting. She'd seen the private investigator. It hadn't taken her long to realize there would be trouble coming from England soon.
She raised her hand to knock on the hotel door and hesitated. Morgana help her, this was not what she wanted. She didn't want another confrontation, but it didn't matter. Her children mattered. She let her knuckles touch the wood quickly.
Narcissa Malfoy opened the door with a confused look on face. It faded as she stared at Hermione. She stepped back a half step and gestured for her to enter.
"I've only just arrived." Narcissa paced into the room. "How did you find out I was here?"
"I don't leave things to chance. After the last visitor and the private investigator, I knew someone would come." Hermione looked around the fairly upscale room. "I wasn't expecting you."
"Scorpius was quite distraught. He came to me." Narcissa sighed. "I'm trying to understand how all this came to pass."
"Draco and I had a brief relationship." Hermione clenched her fists against her thighs. "My children are not a threat to your family. We won't flaunt our dirty blood for all and sundry. You needn't worry."
"I don't want to deny them." Narcissa sat in a chair and gestured to the other. "I want to know them. I've missed so much already."
"Your husband does not know they exist. If he did, he would try to kill them. Your son has no memory of our relationship, and he is married to another woman." Hermione cocked her head to the side and examined the older witch. "Exactly where are we supposed to fit into your world now?"
Draco frowned as his path was blocked by a large, mouth breathing, red headed wanker. He took a deep breath and managed to hold onto his bland expression. Ronald Weasley was panting and purple faced. It was truly unfortunate with his hair.
"Tell your boy to leave my Rosie alone." Weasley poked him in the chest with a single finger. "I saw him touch her at the platform yesterday. He should know better."
"My son was being a gentleman." Draco sighed. "He helped a young lady on to the train. He was merely being polite."
"Tell him to keep his polite hands off my daughter." Weasley snarled and Draco could see this was not going to end pleasantly. "It was bad enough you stole Hermione from us and drove her away. I won't let your ilk take my daughter."
"Yes, of course, I'm the reason your friend decided to flee." Draco felt a stabbing pain in his head. His fingers flexed involuntarily. "It had nothing to do with your own behavior."
"Just keep your son away, Malfoy." Weasley took a step back from him. "I'm not losing my Rosie. I won't."
Draco managed a sneer as the other wizard retreated, but his head throbbed. He saw a brief flash of Granger writhing on the manor floor and then a moment of her dancing and smiling at him with sunlight shining off her hair. A feeling of redemption washed over him. He closed his eyes and let the peace of it settle in.
"Why did you hide them from us?" Narcissa examined the confident woman sitting across from her. "I can't make sense of it."
"It's not a pretty story, and it changes nothing." Hermione sighed. "After the war, I was struggling. Ron and Harry were happy being heroes. I had problems with the constant attention. It aggravated me. I was always on edge. Everything felt wrong. I wasn't sleeping. I had some issues from the cruciatus exposure, and I hated using the dreamless sleep Mungo's thought would help."
"Yes, it is a rather useless bit of treatment." Narcissa nodded. "They are rather hidebound in their approach to patient care. Severus hated it."
"I spent a great deal of time in the muggle world. It was easier for me. I never went to the same place twice. I was still so paranoid, but there was comfort in being unnoticed. One night I walked into a small club and Draco was there." Hermione smiled fondly. "I was going to go when he turned and saw me. I didn't want to be a coward, so I walked over to him. We spent most of that night just talking and drinking. I brought him to my place because neither of us was in any shape to apparate. I thought it would be for the night. He slept on the couch. The next morning he was in my kitchen making breakfast. We never talked about it. He just moved in. Neither of us fussed about it. He showed up with an injured elf after about a month and we worked hard to heal her. Pippa still lives with us."
"My son nursed an injured elf?" Narcissa blinked.
"He was so gentle with her." Hermione smiled. "When she got better, she bonded to us. We became a little family. Pippa truly is family us. I wouldn't have survived this without her."
"I suppose we will be coming to what this is soon?" Narcissa arched an eyebrow. "I realize that this is difficult, but I need to understand."
"We spent more and more time together. I'm not sure when things changed, but one day he wasn't just my roommate. We weren't swept away in some mad passion. It came on us slowly. Hand holding, kissing, little gifts, it was like we were courting each other. one night I took Draco into my bed, and he never left. It was simple and warm and good."
"So, you were in love." Narcissa sighed.
"We were. Harry and Ron caught us and we had a row, but it didn't matter. We were making plans. We applied for apprenticeships. We were both accepted. We planned for the bookshop to sustain us while we learned." Hermione swiped at her eyes, trying to stop the steady flow of tears. "Then your husband showed up, and our little idyl was over. I was alone in the house when he arrived. Pippa was here, cleaning the shop. We were supposed to join her in a couple of days. I had just found out I was pregnant. Draco never knew. Lucius made my options clear. I think he knew killing me would cause him too much trouble, but it didn't matter. He was quite clear. He spared my life and promised not to hurt Draco."
Hermione yanked a silver vial from her pocket. She stared at it for a moment before closing it in her fingers.
"Revelio Obscura." She tapped her wand to the cork and light splashed across the wall forming into shapes and then figures. The vague shadows gave way to discernable individuals and the memory began to move.
"You may love her, but you will not marry her." Lucius glared at Hermione as she stepped into the room. "The contract is unbreakable. Delay for a few more days. Take a month for your goodbyes. I don't care. You will marry Astoria Greengrass before Beltane."
Draco shook his head, but Hermione knew the battle was lost. She may have been the steadfast companion of the chosen one and the brightest witch of her age, but it made no difference. She wasn't popular enough to help the Malfoy image. Her so called dirty blood still caused Lucius to curl his lip. The contract would stand.
"It's okay, Draco." She dropped a hand on his shoulder. "Fighting this thing is too dangerous. The contract will take your magic if you fail to comply. I can't ask you to risk it."
"You don't have to ask." Draco grabbed her hand and held it tightly. "I can't marry her. I love you."
"How long would you love me after you lost your magic? How long would you be happy?" Hermione cupped his cheek with her free hand. "The books say it's painful. Most wizards go mad within months. I won't watch you suffer. I love you too much."
"This is all very touching." Lucius sneered at them. "I will await your decision."
Hermione managed a nod. She knew there was no choice. She looked over at Draco and fought for a smile. She knew there wouldn't be a chance to tell him everything. Lucius had made that quite clear.
"You've given me everything, Draco. Without you, I'd still be a broken witch. I'd still be trapped in the nightmares and the panic attacks." She walked to him with an easy stride. She'd always been the one to do what was needed. She gripped her wand in her hand. Her palm was sweaty and the wood slid against her skin uncomfortably.
"Do you think you've given me less?" Draco closed the distance between them. "I love you. I can live without magic. I'll be with you. I won't go mad."
He pulled her up against the hard planes of his body and she let herself melt against him. It would be the last time. She had more to protect than his sanity. Lucius wouldn't stop. He'd kill her before allowing his blood lines to be muddied.
She pressed her lips against his pulse, and let her tears fall. The soft skin of his neck moved away from her as he pushed her back. She looked up into his beloved silver eyes.
"I love you, Draco." She couldn't push the other words past her lips. She couldn't beg him for forgiveness. This was her fate and her curse.
"I love you, too." He stroked his fingers along her cheek and wiped her tears away.
She stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his. She didn't deserve it, but she couldn't resist one last kiss for the long years ahead. She raised her wand up and pulled away from him.
"Obliviate." Hermione held still as her world fell to pieces. The face she loved went blank, and Draco dropped to the floor. She moved to touch him, but couldn't. He wasn't her Draco anymore.
Lucius stepped between them. He looked triumphant.
"Leave England, and I won't feel the need to hurt him." Lucius stunned his son before levitating him. "But if you make any attempt to interfere, I will make him pay. He's my son, but I won't tolerate his nonsense any longer."
Narcissa felt as if her chest had been squeezed brutally. She looked across at the witch carefully putting the vial back into her pocket, and saw the price of sacrifice. She'd been broken and managed to put herself back together again and again.
"Tell me that he's happy." Hermione Granger met her eyes steadily even as her face crumpled and her body began to shake. "I know he'd never forgive me, but tell me that his life isn't horrible."
Narcissa sprang from her chair and gathered the sobbing witch into her arms. She murmured words of consolation and comfort into the younger woman's ear. Thoughts of her son's odd bouts of melancholy plagued her. She knew he had no memory of his relationship with Hermione Granger, but part of him was yearning still. They rocked together on the hotel floor, as tears spilled from Narcissa's eyes.
Draco walked into his study and sat quietly behind his desk. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a book. It was poetry. The works of a muggle named Theodore Roethke. It was worn and dogeared, and, on nearly every page, there were notes in her handwriting.
He'd plucked it from the cold marble before her blood could stain it. He'd always planned to return it to her after the war, but he never had. He'd had so many plans then.
He'd charmed the thing until it was bloody damn near indestructible. Perhaps the book held some strange kind of muggle magic, or he'd made it more than ink and paper with his wishes. There was an odd comfort in the descriptions of the mundane world of potted geraniums and chairs.
Perhaps Granger's power had infused the thing. He didn't bloody care.
He opened it and stared at her notes.
The Weasel had been convinced that Granger had left because of him, but how was that possible? He closed his eyes and ran his fingers over her notes. The soothing magic of the book flowed into him. He let his fingers slide along the pages for a bit, then he stopped and started to read.
Lynx watched his mother. She flitted about the shop, talked a mile a minute to the customers, and had destroyed the hem of her sweater. It wasn't one of her favorites, so it was no real loss. It wasn't about the sweater. It was about the darkness in her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She did a good job with the whole stiff upper lip thing, but he could see she was shaken and upset.
"Don't bother looking at the calendar. It isn't one of those days." Lyra sidled up next to him. "She isn't sleeping much, and I can't remember the last time I actually saw her eat."
"Any weird letters?" Lynx pretended to dust a shelf when his mother glanced in his direction.
"Nothing." Lyra frowned. "I think she needs friends. We are growing up. If you take that apprenticeship in Japan and I head off to California, she's going to be alone."
"She'd be the first one to tell us to go." Lynx shifted his weight to his heels. "I thought about writing that Potter guy. she smiles when she talks about him. Maybe Longbottom, too."
"Do you think dragging those people into our lives is a good idea?" Lyra frowned. "I mean Mom left them for a reason."
"Yeah." He shrugged. "It was just an idea."
Lucius watched his wife shift from side to side in her seat. Her odd behavior didn't bode well for his peaceful night. He took a deep breath and considered his excuses. he didn't want to go to the club, but locking himself away with a bottle of port in his study didn't hold much appeal either.
"Why did you interfere in our son's love life?" Narcissa stared at him coldly with wand in hand. "You have one chance to be honest before I start casting."
"I did what needed to be done, Narcissa. The boy was mixing with the wrong sort." Lucius sighed. "How did you find out?"
"I have my ways." Narcissa hadn't put her wand away.
"Is Draco remembering?" Lucius watched his wife shake her head. "Are you sure?"
"Draco would hardly come to me." Narcissa slumped further in her chair. "He doesn't trust either of us."
"He's a grown man. His son will graduate Hogwarts this year." Lucius smiled at the thought of Scorpius. "I think it is far more likely that maturity keeps him from running to us with every little problem rather than some minor issues from his youth."
"Minor issues?" Narcissa rolled her neck. "You forced our son's lover to obliviate him. That is not a minor issue. You could still wind up in Azkaban for it."
"Is that what you want?" He watched as Narcissa tilted her head and considered. This situation was worse than he had feared.
"I want to put my family together, but I can't." She stood and began to pace. "Your actions have left me with no options."
"Draco may not spend much time with us, but we are hardly being shunned." Lucius eyed the tip of his wife's wand as it glowed in a variety of ever changing colors. "I'm sure if you let him know that you are feeling neglected, he would be more conscientious about visiting."
"This is not about Draco." Narcissa slammed her free hand down upon the dining table. "This is about our grandchildren."
"Grandchildren?" Lucius felt the world whirl around him. Narcissa didn't make casual errors. "The Granger girl?"
"Twins." Narcissa smiled sadly. "Lynx Draconis and Lyra Lenore."
Lucius lost track of his wife as she stormed around the room. He wanted to deny the truth, but that failed him. He'd been careless, and they would all be paying the price.
"How much does she want?" Lucius swallowed down the rising bile.
"She's not asking for money. She would't take a shiny syckle from any of us." Narcissa shook her head and looked at him with disappointment. "She wants her children to know their father. Goddess, she still loves our son. She begged me to tell her he was happy."
"What do you want me to do, Narcissa? I'm sure the half bloods are adorable, but mongrels don't belong on the Malfoy tree." Lucius sat back in his seat.
"Of course, Dear." Narcissa stared at him as she smoothed her skirt. "What was I thinking?"
Lucius watched her glide from the room and knew this was far from over.
Harry Potter rubbed the back of his neck. Narcissa Malfoy had never made any effort to claim her debt from him, so he'd stopped worrying about it. Life debts didn't fade away though. In fact, they grew stronger as your life developed. He hadn't known that until her name had appeared in his appointment diary.
"You aren't required to meet with her." Kingsley smiled at him. "But she can drag you before the Wizengamot if you don't."
"Why now?" Harry slumped into a seat. "She's stayed away from me for so long."
"Which means this is important to her." Kingsley frowned. "I can't pull the Minister card for you. If she calls in her debt, you will have to find a way to pay it."
Lyra found her mother clutching a photo album to her chest. It was the first one, the one with pictures of their father in it. She licked her lips and coughed a bit to get her mother's attention.
"Mom, what's wrong?" She crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch. "You've been out of sorts for a while."
"Your grandmother would like to meet you." Hermione nodded slowly. "She's coming in a few days. I was planning to tell you both tonight, but Lynx sent a patronus to let me know he'd be late."
"He's always late on Wednesdays, Mom." Lyra smiled. "Tabitha Kowalski works at the pub on Wednedays."
"Tabitha Kowalski is ten years older than you are." Hermione frowned.
"He hasn't got a chance, but he loves watching her drive the whole room crazy."
"He would." Hermione rolled her bloodshot eyes.
"Yeah." Lyra grinned. "So, our grandmother?"
"I don't know her that well." Her mother fidgeted on the couch. "She did save Harry though."
"That's something." Lyra nodded. "What do you think she wants?"
"I think she wants to know her family." Hermione sighed. "She will move mountains to get what she wants, so there's no point fighting."
"Did her husband die?" Lyra looked down at her manicured nails.
"No." Her mother grinned. "I would put my money on Narcissa though. She's the kind that changes the world until it suits her."
"So," Lyra grinned. "She's a lot like you."
Hermione's hands tightened on the photo album, and she rocked back and forth slightly. It was hard to watch her mother falter. She was such a force.
"I didn't have it in me to fight for your father. I chose you and your brother." Her mother sighed. "He won't forgive me."
"He isn't coming to visit." Lyra patted her shoulder feeling helpless in the face of this guilt. "And, if he's any kind of a father, he will understand."
"You want the Right of Assignment?" Harry blinked as Narcissa smiled at him.
"It's really more of a formality. You are not a Black. Sirius left you his estate, but he did not pass control of the House. if you formally grant it to me as Sirius' heir, it will add weight to my choice." Narcissa took a sip. "I have recently uncovered a possible heir."
"You've found an heir to the House of Black?" Harry frowned. "How?"
"A blood descendant had an affair. There was issue." Narcissa sniffed. "The House should be renewed."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Harry frowned. "Move out of my home and make way for the heir?"
"No. Walburga's house is yours. The things Sirius left you are yours." Narcissa sighed. "I want to name the heir and open Black Manor."
"Why?" Harry watched her closely.
"Because family is the only thing in this world that I care about." Narcissa took a deep breath. "Mine is fractured. Things happened long ago that can not be undone, but this would help toward that end."
"I don't like it." Harry sighed. "You have some agenda that I don't understand. You're using me to forward it."
"I will use any tool that comes to hand in this endeavor." Narcissa stood. "See that the notice is in to the Wizengamot within the week. Time is a precious commodity."
She swept from the room with no doubt that he would comply. There really wasn't another option. He owed her.
Hermione watched Lynx and Lyra with their grandmother. She'd moved away to give the older witch a chance to get to know them on her own terms. They looked glorious in the sunlight.
"It's probably normal to hate all this a little bit." Tabitha Kowalski sat beside her. "I can't imagine how torn you must be."
"You hardly need to, Tabby" Hermione grinned. "Still picking my thoughts right out of my head."
"It's a defining characteristic of my line." Tabby grinned and waggled her brows. "Lynx and Lyra are good kids. Their heads won't be turned by all of this."
"They aren't really kids anymore." Hermione blinked back a few tears. "They're both ready to start their lives."
"That doesn't mean yours is over." Tabby's hand covered hers. "I know you still love him, but the man you love is gone. You know that. Maybe this will help you move on."
"I don't want to move on, Tabby." Hermione dragged in a deep breath. "I'd rather have my ghost. I think I'll head home. They don't need me here."
"I wish I was a seer sometimes. It would be so nice to see a happy ending once in a while." Tabitha released her hand. "But I'm a creature of the here and now."
"Its probably better that way." Hermione forced a grin. "It isn't easy splitting your life between two time periods."
Hermione waved to her children and nodded to Narcissa before turning away. The walk wasn't a long one, but she let herself pretend that he would be there waiting. It was a sad little game that she played far too often.
"He's happy. He's married." Hermione took a deep breath and started to shake. She had managed all these years without him because their children needed her, but they were grown. Maybe she should have tried to move on. Maybe she should have fought for him and risked the children. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her pants and pushed the maybes out of her head. What might have been was a trap.
"You want me to what?" Kingsley Shacklebolt stared at Narcissa Malfoy with his mouth ajar. He knew he was losing his mind.
"I'm not asking for anything she doesn't deserve." Narcissa smiled politely at him. "I need to get her seen publicly and quickly. It's for her safety if that helps you do the right thing. She never received her Order of Merlin. Is it really such an imposition for you to throw a ball in her honor?"
"She never comes to England. She has little to no contact with anyone." Kingsley shook his head. "How am I supposed to get her here?"
"I will accomplish that chore. You will throw a lavish, commemorative ball." Narcissa grinned. "You have an entire staff to help you get it right, so this shouldn't be much of an imposition."
"The ball isn't the problem." Kingsley leaned back in his chair. "I don't trust you. I need to understand your motivation."
"My husband drove her away from England. She was pregnant with my son's children. She was clever and escaped before telling anyone. She doesn't hide. She just relies on our general xenophobia to keep her safe." Narcissa picked a piece of imaginary lint from her gown. "My grandchildren are in danger. I don't trust my husband to leave them be. I plan to legitimize them as Blacks."
"And you need this to happen quickly before..." Kingsley frowned.
"Before my husband decides to prune the tree with an accident or two." Narcissa nodded and met Kingsley's gaze steadily.
"Once they are declared Blacks and publicly recognized, his hands are tied." Kingsley grinned widely and chuckled. "Lucius will not be happy."
"Lucius is waiting for my demands. He assumes some jewelry and assorted fripperies will assuage my anger." She folded her hands in her lap and smiled demurely. "I want him to be unhappy. I want him to suffer. If he moves against them, the magic of my House will kill him, and, at the moment, I think I'd enjoy watching."
"This isn't going to be easy for your son or for Hermione." Kingsley ran his fingers along the edge of his desk.
"I am aware." Narcissa glanced at the picture of Hermione that was set in his book case. "She saved your life once, did she not?"
"She did." Kingsley nodded.
"Then pardon her for obliviating my son before she made her escape." Narcissa took another deep breath. "My husband forced her hand, and she did what any mother would."
"She could have come to me." Kingsley frowned. "There were so many people that would have helped her."
"Not while she was carrying Draco Malfoy's bastards." Narcissa fisted her hands in the folds of her skirt. "You can pretend it was all sugar and cucumber sandwiches after the war, but don't lie to me."
Kingsley sat back and temples his fingers under his chin. Hermione deserved the pardon. It was a simple enough thing to do. He could file it himself and no one would be the wiser.
"I'll pardon her, I'll throw the ball, but I want to see her beforehand." Kingsley glanced at the pictures on his shelves again. "I want to bring Potter with me. This will all be much easier if he's on board."
New York made Harry nervous. He didn't like going on missions without notice, and he really hated that Kings was keeping something about this little jaunt from him. They moved through bustling streets without drawing any notice. It was oddly disturbing not to be noticed.
"They don't care." Kings grinned at him. "Most of them couldn't tell you from any other dark haired wizard."
"Why are we here?" Harry watched a satyr playing a guitar on a street corner and tossed a galleon in the open case as they passed by. "This isn't official business."
"I thought you might want to see an old friend." Kings grinned, stopped in front of a book shop, and opened the door.
Harry followed him into the shop and took a deep breath. There was something soothing about books. They always brought her to mind.
"Hello, Harry." Hermione smiled at him from across the room. Her hair was tamed into a braid, and the years had left their marks. She was still Hermione though. He took two steps toward her before she moved, but then she was there, in his arms. Her lips were pressed into his hair, but he could still understand her as she murmured about how much she'd missed him.
"I thought he'd be taller." A blond man watched him carefully from behind the counter.
"Shut up, Lynx." An equally blonde witch smacked the young wizard on the arm. "Size doesn't matter."
Hermione burst into laughter and pulled back from his body, but her fingers clutched his. He couldn't help smiling at her happy grin. Sohe was still his Hermione.
"These monsters are my children." Hermione gestured with her free hand towards the giggling duo. "Lynx and Lyra, this is Harry Potter. Don't ask to see his scar."
"Don't spoil their fun, Hermione." Kingsley smirked. "The thing is so faint now that he can't find it in the mirror."
"Does Malfoy know?" Harry watched her children stiffen.
"He doesn't remember." Hermione dropped his hand. "He didn't abandon me. I was the one that left."
"You always were the smart one. Malfoy is still an evil little ferret." Harry grinned, expecting Hermione to giggle again. There was a moment when the entire room was silent then, suddenly, he was pinned to a bookcase. He could feel the shelves pressing into him. Some of the books seemed to be growling. Hermione was yelling. Her eyes glowed as her power surged. He couldn't concentrate on her words. It took everything he had just to breathe.
"Mom, he doesn't know." Lynx stepped between Hermione and Harry. "Don't do this. You don't want to do this."
"Pippa." Lyra spoke quietly, and a small brightly dressed elf appeared.
"They is trying to ruin my meal." The elf rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. Harry dropped to his knees and panted. "You isn't so great, Harry Potter. My family be broken. You be nice."
"Glad I brought you and not Weasley." Kingsley grimaced. "She'd have killed him, and that would have required a lot of paperwork."
Harry turned his head toward Hermione. She was sobbing in the arms of her son. Her rage had waned, but this was worse.
"She's magically linked to Malfoy." Harry wheezed. "I didn't realize."
"She isn't usually this volatile. Things have been very tense since Scorpius found us." Lyra shrugged. "She's a powerful witch. Most people go out of there way not to piss her off."
"Yeah, well, I've never been good at that." Harry flopped on to his back.
Kingsley watched Narcissa stroke Hermione's hair from the doorway to the younger witch's bedroom. Narcissa sang softly as she wove her magic protectively around Hermione. He'd thought this whole thing was about the children, but he could see differently now.
"Leave them alone." Lynx frowned at him. "The last thing we need is for Mom to wind up having convulsions on top of all this nonsense."
"Convulsions?" Kingsley frowned.
"She was tortured." Lynx shook his head and stalked away from him. "You just pushed her out of your minds after the war. She was Harry Potter's courageous sidekick number two."
"She is a hero to many." Kingsley followed the man that looked disturbingly like a young and healthy Sirius Black.
"How sweet." The blond wizard rolled his eyes. "Mom is sure to give a flying fuck, but I don't. We weren't hiding. Mom is a famous curse breaker. She's done amazing things. None of you ever visited. No owls at Yule. Once the war was over, once you didn't need her, you didn't care."
"We cared." Kings thought of that picture in his bookcase.
"Just not enough to check on one of your child soldiers." Lynx crossed his arms over his chest. "She started fighting Voldemort at the age of twelve. It is easier to remember her as the emaciated, hardened warrior she was at the end, but she started fighting as a child. Where were you then?"
"I'm here now." Kingsley sighed. There wasn't anything he could do about the past.
"Because our grandmother is moving heaven and earth to try and protect us. You didn't come here without prompting. Mom is a just a picture on a wall to you. You'll give her your Order of Merlin. She'll smile and say all the right things. She's very good at putting on a show when its needed. There will be some stupid picture taken of her with Potter and Weasley. Then she can fade back into obscurity." Lynx shrugged. "None of this matters. None of it."
"They don't like us very much." Harry sighed from his place on the couch. "They had considered contacting some of us before they found out about Narcissa and the Malfoys. My children don't see past the end of their own noses. It's odd being scolded by a girl thats about James' age. Hermione deserved better than this. We let Lucius off because we needed him to help us find the other death eaters. We were monitoring him with a trace. He should have been in bloody custody."
"We made mistakes." Kingsley closed his eyes for a second. "More than we should have, but none of that makes a bloody bit of difference now."
"We can't change the past, but we can bloody well pay for it still." Harry sighed. "You knew the side of Hermione that she showed the older members of the Order. Polite, intelligent, dependable. I knew her a bit better. She's brave and kind and loving. She's sunshine and rainbows and unicorns frolicking in a bloody field. Until she isn't. Then she's dangerous, creative, and determined. She didn't send Umbridge to the centaurs because it was the only thing she could think of to get rid of the toad. She was always the darkest of us. She survived Bellatrix for over three hours. No one else lasted more than one. They mostly died. The Longbottoms went crazy. Hermione survived. She holed up in that giant brain of hers, and she didn't break."
"That's not precisely true." Narcissa stood in the doorway. "She broke. Her magic arced through the room several times. She lost control of her bowels. I'm not sure how she survived. I'm even less sure how she kept your secrets. Draco and I were forced to watch the entire time. My son tried to carve his dark mark off his arm that night."
"You think they merged their magic." Kingsley slumped back against the wall.
"I am sure of it." Narcissa looked down at the colorful rug. "There's nothing to be done about it though. He's bound in a contractual marriage. He isn't free. Lucius may well have finished what my sister started."
"You can't know that." Kingsley shook his head. "They've been fine."
"They've had children. The parental bond has kept them both sane." Narcissa walked past the shelves; trailing her fingers along the spines of the books. "Those children are basically adults now. The bond they share is changing."
"What in hell is merged magic?" Harry glared at Narcissa.
"It's a bond. The most extreme bond that exists." Kingsley sighed. "They are magically one person. If they were married to each other, it wouldn't be a problem. Being separated for long periods is painful. Think of George Weasley. The twin bond is the closest thing to this. He has survived Fred's death, but it isn't always pretty. He isn't the man he was meant to be. Hermione and Draco are probably in constant pain. Once their children are fully independent, the control afforded by the parental bond will break."
"What's the worst case scenario?" Harry looked from Narcissa back to Kingsley.
"There are too many possibilities." Kingsley shook his head. "They've survived apart for a long time. They might settle in to being friends."
"We can only hope." Narcissa sighed. "At least, they would have a chance as friends."
"What happens if they don't manage to make it as friends?" Harry prompted the older pair.
"It depends." Kingsley frowned.
"Tristan and Isolde. Guinevere and Lancelot." Narcissa looked away. "Not the prettied up muggle versions in which everyone believes. They'll try to do the right thing. They'll both feel pressure to stay apart. Draco will break his marriage vows, but the bond will keep him from committing to Hermione. They will both go slowly insane. They'll choose death over the truncated bond and the constant pain."
"I don't think it will be so quiet. I doubt either of them is that emotionally stable. They'll try so hard to be friends. It will seem to work for a time. Then their magic will begin to flare wildly. Accidental magic on an epic scale. Earthquakes, volcanos, Merlin only knows what those two could do." Kingsley clenched his fists. "In the end, we will have to put them down."
"Why can't Draco just leave Astoria?" Harry stood up and started to pace. "Then everything would be fine."
"He's contractually obligated." Narcissa took a deep breath. "Lucius didn't leave him that option. His contract was written to keep him from Hermione, and to keep her from interfering in his marriage. All those weird little facets of language make perfect sense now. He can not leave her or ask her to leave. He can not have another ask her to leave. If a third party tries to encourage her to leave him, he will be compelled to defend his marriage. He can not be unfaithful without suffering extreme pain."
"He signed that?" Harry blinked. "Why?"
"Familial magic. His pater commanded it." Kingsley shook his head. "I hate that nonsense."
"Most families have stopped the practice." Narcissa nodded. "The Blacks never used it. I have managed to keep Lucius from forcing it on Scorpius."
"Lucius could rescind the contract." Kingsley frowned. "As a Pater, he could do it."
"He doesn't want half blood mongrels destroying his House." Narcissa rolled her eyes. "I still have to protect the children."
"So, we are hanging our hopes on Astoria's reaction." Harry sighed. "Cant we just resurrect a dark lord for me to kill?"
Narcissa opened the door to her son's study without knocking. She was tired of all the pretense and subterfuge. She took in the annoyed expression on Astoria's face. Apparently, Draco was not cooperating with her. He rarely did.
"I'm sorry to interrupt." She smiled at Draco. "I do need a word with your wife."
"Please." He rose from his seat. "Be my guest."
"Oh, no." Narcissa waved her hand at his courtesy. "I'll just steal her away if you don't mind terribly."
"I don't mind at all." Draco smiled as his wife huffed. "We can always converse at another time. I imagine you both want to be resplendent for the ball this evening."
Astoria frowned at him, but she eventually followed Narcissa out the door.
"You've been in meetings with the Wizengamot today." Astoria glanced at her. "No one seems to know why."
"I do not have time to lay out my entire endeavor for you." Narcissa smiled as they ascended the stairs together. "I will tell you what you need to know. Surprises truly are dreadful. Aren't they?"
Draco sighed as his mother freed him from an afternoon spent listening to his wife's complaints. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and contemplated taking a pain potion for his headache. Nothing rid him of pain completely, and he avoided taking potions because of their addictive appeal. He swallowed and leaned back in his chair. a few minutes of quiet would help immensely.
The soft pop of an elf's apparition annoyed him. He sat forward and frowned at the oddly dressed intruder. He'd never seen an elf dress like a witch before, but this one was wearing a fine set of day robes.
"You looks tired." The elf frowned and clucked her tongue. "My Hermione will not be happy 'bout thats."
His headache flared bright and sharp. Nausea bent him over and the world seemed to glow. Flashes of places he didn't remember mixed with foreign sounds and smells as he fought the pain. He heard her voice, husky from sleep. Whispers of love sang through him. The maelstrom pushed more and more on the fractured pieces into his head. The pain was unbearable. He tasted his own blood, and realized he'd bitten his tongue.
"Pippa is a sorry elf." The small creature touched his hand and the pain dissipated as if it had been blown away.
"It's just a migraine, Pippa." Draco turned his hand and cradled hers gently in his palm.
"Missy Narcissy and My Hermione said Pippa is to help My Draco remember." She stroked his hair back from his face with her free hand.
He remembered clutching her trembling form against his chest as Hermione healed her wounds. He remembered the promises he'd made. The same one's Hermione made.
"We are your family." He opened his eyes again. He remembered saying those words again and again as this elf struggled for her life. "I will be yours, and Hermione will be yours."
"You is mine. My family." Pippa smiled at him. "My Draco, my Hermione, my Lynx, and my Lyra. You has to remember us now. That's why Missy Narcissy said I shoulds come."
"Lynx and Lyra?" He swallowed. "They don't exist. I just dream about them from time to time."
"They is real. They is your family." Pippa stared into his eyes. "You gets to meet them tonights at the ball. My Hermione says I shoulds give you this."
The elf pulled a small parcel from her pocket and snapped her fingers. A large, silver wrapped package popped into his lap. There was a letter tucked into the green ribbon on it.
"I be goings to the ball." Pippa smiled widely. "I be sitting with my family. I sees you later."
The elf popped away. He clutched the package to his chest as hazy memories floated through his mind. There was no order or flow to them, but he knew they were real. He relaxed and pulled the letter from its place. It was from Hermione. The parchment was warm with the remnants of her magical signature.
The tumbled words of her apology were easily dismissed. She'd protected their children. She'd done the right thing. He stroked his fingers over the dried and sanded ink. The handwriting was so familiar. He set the photo album aside. There would be time later to see the past. His dreams would become reality soon enough.
The elegant swirl of gowns on the dance floor did not interest Lucius Malfoy. He glanced about with his jaded eye and frowned slightly. It was enough to convey his distaste without being openly disdainful.
"You agreed to attend this function. I expect you to maintain an acceptable mien." Narcissa nodded at the Minister before turning back to him. "Remember that you are a Malfoy."
Lucius smiled at her reminder. He'd said the same words to her when they attended their first ball as husband and wife. He stroked her wrist with his thumb, and caught her slight frown. It seemed that he'd yet to be forgiven.
The dancing halted and the minister blathered. He really didn't see why his wife had wanted attend unto he saw them.
He knew them. Their features were familiar. Their coloring was distinct. They were Malfoys. They had to be. He couldn't tear his eyes away. They moved like predators through the crowd; flanking a woman dressed in a purple gown and robes.
He swallowed past a suddenly closing throat as he recognized her. She was magnificent. A force, the caress of her magic flowed out through the room. He knew the threat of such power, how quickly one could twist from benevolence to cruelty.
"She's quite the witch." Narcissa's breath teased his ear. "I've legitimized the children as Blacks. You needn't worry about them ever taking your name. Hermione appears on the tapestry as their bonded mother."
Bile surged up from his stomach, but he didn't flinch.
"Bonded?" He managed to sound merely interested, but his gaze flew to his son. The agony the boy had been hiding for years made sudden sense.
"Yes." Narcissa backed away from him. "Scorpius will marry his Weasley if he wants. There isn't anything I can do for Draco or Hermione, but I will protect my grandchildren."
He nodded. He'd been considering having them killed in a tragic accident until he'd caught sight of them. He understood Narcissa's rancor. He looked to his wife and remembered the children for which they'd hoped and planned. He remembered the agony of lifeless bodies born too soon.
His eyes turned back to his grandchildren. They were strong. He could see it in them, the confidence of those with real power.
He looked to his son.
Draco.
"He knows." He looked to his wife. He didn't need to see her slight nod. "Nimue, he must hate me."
"I don't think he's even considered you yet." Narcissa sighed. "When he does, you might want to absent yourself."
"You think he will try to kill me?" Lucius glanced back at Draco.
"What would you have done if Abraxas had treated you in a similar fashion? If he had denied you a life with the witch you loved and the children she bore you?" Narcissa patted his hand. "Draco is very much your son at times."
Draco watched his son and daughter from a distance. He could see himself in them. They resembled him in coloring. Their features were sharper than hers. Most would see only Malfoy in them, but she was there as well. In the quick flash of their smiles and their quiet confidence, she was there. In the waves of their hair and their easy laughter, she was there. The pain that always rode in his chest lightened. The love he felt through hazy memory lived on in his children.
He felt the call of Hermione's magic; recognizing it despite his less than perfect recall of their time together. He closed his eyes as the warmth and familiarity of their bond soothed him. The pull of it was undeniable, like a siren's call. He longed to close the distance between them.
Astoria's grip on his arm tightened; underlining the horror of his situation.
He was not free.
"I didn't expect them to look so much like you." Astoria frowned. "They look more like Malfoys than Scorpius. Maybe they're wearing glamours. Perhaps Granger is trying to take advantage of us."
"They aren't wearing glamours. They are my children." He pulled Astoria toward him and looked into her angry blue eyes. "Hermione would never try to take advantage of me or mine. I will not allow anyone to disparage her."
He let the threat settle between them. His wife was no fool. He wouldn't need to repeat himself."
"Well, you'd better brush up your dueling skills, husband." Astoria smiled thinly at him and flipped up a quick muffliato. "She may be the smartest and most beautiful witch in the room, but she's still just the silly strumpet that spread her legs for Draco Malfoy. She's not going to be welcome in the better houses. Those bastards of yours are just that. Bastards. Your mother's machinations aside, they're just half blood accidents. Scorpius is your heir. He's your son. You raised him. Those pretenders are just mistakes that weren't taken care of before our wedding."
"You're understandably upset." Draco frowned at his wife. "I did not chose you. Discovering you were never my choice must be difficult for you. You were just a pure blood womb for my father's dynastic ambitions. I've never felt more than a passing fondness for you. You are my wife, but you are not my choice."
"I may be nothing but a womb, but we have a contract you can't break." She smiled widely. "You can't touch your choice without triggering the penalty for infidelity. I hope you enjoy watching her and her spawn from a safe distance."
"The only reason you are still breathing is our son." Draco grabbed her wrist. "I would never take his mother from him. Scorpius is my heir. He is my son. I am proud of him. I doubt you know his favorite color."
Astoria pulled against his grasp, and he smiled at her.
"We've put on quite a show for public consumption. You've made some lovely and declarative statements." Draco pulled her closer and met her wide eyes. "Do not push me. I have tolerated your infidelities and your greed long enough. Your access to the Malfoy vaults will be restricted from this point on. You will be afforded a stipend for your financial needs. How generous I am with it will be up to you."
"Your father won't let you punish me." She smirked. "Not for this."
"My father will most likely be dealing with other issues." Draco quirked a brow. "Why don't you run off to Marcus Flint? He might be willing to supplement your income."
He released his wife and smiled blandly at the whispering crowds. The sordid details of his life were on full display, and he was forced to tolerate their lurid curiosity. He took a deep breath and looked across the room. He didn't know what to call them. They were his family and yet they were not.
"You shoulds join them." Pippa smiled up at him. She was wearing a tiny cream colored gown with a navy, cutaway over robe. "They has been waiting a longs time."
"Perhaps you could introduce me?" Draco extended his arm and offered his hand to the little elf. "You are, after all, a part of the family."
Pippa beamed as they made their way through the crowds. He didn't care if he garnered odd looks. He saw his daughter laugh. He saw his older son roll his eyes. They were real. He locked eyes with her and reveled in the brief moment of joy it afforded him.