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Hermione sighed as she watched her daughter saunter downstairs.

"That skirt wasn't so short when we bought it, Rose,"
Rose huffed petulantly.
"It looked like something you would wear, mother dear."

She stormed the rest of the way down, shoved past Hermione, and stamped her way to the car. The slam of the door rang in Hermione's ears.
Honestly, she wasn't sure exactly where or how Rose had become so ... brattish. She had been a sunny child, but as soon as she stepped foot into Hogwarts her head had exploded with newly discovered fame and fortune. It didn't help that she was also a possessor of strangely good looks, despite Ron and Hermione's fairly average status in that department
None of the cousins or Hugo were any better. Her and Ginny often lamented over the loss of their children's humility and well...propriety too.
It was Rose's fifth year and Hugo's third, and when she had tentatively brought up the subject of OWLS Rose had scoffed, which worried Hermione. She knew everyone wasn't as academically inclined as her, but Rose seemed to think that she would sail through life because of her parents' achievements. Hermione felt so stressed, with her job as head of the DMLE, her lackluster children, and her dying parents. Sometimes she felt like she was drowning.

Astoria Malfoy smiled at her son, who was currently attempting to drag his dragon hide trunk down the Manor stairs.
"Father's already in the car, darling, let's not keep him waiting!"
She was awfully proud of Scorpius. The circumstances had not been kind to him, but he bore the burden of his tainted surname with grace. She knew that the hardships he faced forced him to conceal his true nature, for he was really no Slytherin, but he brought pride to the Malfoy name and had a beautiful heart.
She loved Draco too, with all her soul, but he was squandering their shrinking vaults with his love of fast cars and fine wines. The Malfoys were by no means wanting for anything, but Draco forgot that they were no longer the premier family in Britain and he didn't control the minister with his purse strings. He had been saved from financial ruin, ironically, by Lucius' investments in Muggle telecommunications. Sections of the Manor had been cordoned off because he refused to maintain them to anything less than the splendour of his childhood. All of their hopes rested on Scorpius. She knew Draco dreamed about the day that he would reclaim the Malfoy Wizengamot seats and rebuild their empire.