Hello, everyone!! My name is iluvdraco4eva, and this story here is
the sequel to Falling in Love. Please read that before you start this. As
you read this story, when you get to the end of what I have, if you wish,
write a chapter and email it to me (iluvdraco4eva@yahoo.com) and I will
pick my favorite one every week and put it up. So it will be one big story
written by all of us, because I have a couple of chapters but I got
writer's block. I have only a few requirements as to who ends up with who.
Any questions? Email or review. Here's the first chapter:
Hermione awoke the third time that night to ear-splitting shrieks. Almost screaming in anger herself, she sat bolt upright and glanced tiredly at her watch: 6:45. It had been a long night.
She leaned over and pulled Diane out of her crib. Newborns were tough, and Diane was five months old. With some rocking and nursing, the baby fell fast asleep as if nothing had happened. Amazing how guys could sleep through all of this. Hermione turned to her husband Draco who was half hanging off the bed. Laughing lightly, she pulled him back on and covered him up. You could never guess that Draco was a few months short of 23. He acted like his almost-three-year-old son Devon.
And, speaking of Devon, as Hermione was putting her head down for a last half an hour of sleep, Devon came running into the room. Even though he was dead scared, he was some cute sight in his broomstick-pattern blue pajamas. They brought out his bright blue eyes, which were slightly unlike his father's gray ones. Other than that, he was Draco, from his white blonde hair to his show-off attitude. He scrambled into the bed and pulled the covers over himself.
"Have a nightmare, Dev?" she asked, tickling him.
He started laughing and pulled back the sheets.
"I'm okay now," he giggled. "I thought I saw a ghost."
"Well, they're not real," she comforted.
"Liar," grunted Draco, opening his eyes. Hermione glared at him.
"I mean they're real," she corrected, "but they're nice. When you go to school when you're a big boy, you'll meet some."
"So they're not scary?" he asked in disbelief. "They looks scary from the picture in my soee (A/N: pronounced SO-ee)."
"What?" she asked.
"His story," explained Draco. "His ghost story. He can't say story."
"Oh," nodded Hermione. "Dev, do you want to go back to bed for an hour?"
"No! I'm up!"
"I'm not," said Draco, pulling the pillow over his head. "Wake me up at noon."
"No! Get up!" demanded Hermione. "Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna will be here at nine for breakfast with us!"
"That's in two hours!" exclaimed Draco. "And do they have to bring their kids?"
Lily was Harry and Ginny's girl. Tom and Anne were Ron and Luna's twins, both one month younger than Devon.
"Lily's not as restless as Diane," she sighed. "She's one. Now I'm sorry to wake you up, but help me make a separate early breakfast for Devon."
"Go ask my mum," he replied grumpily. Narcissa lived in the West Wing of the manor.
"I'm not waking her up at seven o'clock when she has nothing to do!" protested Hermione.
"She wakes up at five anyway," said Draco. "Call her on the IC." The IC was the intercom between rooms at the manor. The green light flashed on as Draco spoke.
"Hermione, dear, are you awake?" she called, as if she'd heard their conversation. "Do you need me to do anything?"
"It'd be really great if you could watch Diane for a few minutes so I can make Devon breakfast," said Hermione. "Then I have to get ready for guests."
"Aren't Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna coming?" Narcissa asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "I'll bring Diane to you in a few minutes. Bye!" She clicked the IC off. "Draco, I'm giving you until 7:30. And if you're not in the kitchen by then, you'll be in trouble."
"I'm scared," said Draco sarcastically into the pillow.
"Good," said Hermione. "Devon, let's go." She picked up Diane. Just as she was walking out, the phone rang. Usually, wizards don't have phones, but the three couples had agreed it was easier than traveling by fire or sending word by owl. So Hermione and Harry got telephones for each house (Malfoy Manor needed about fifty extensions) and taught Ginny, Draco, and Luna how to use them. Hermione had also forced a TV and computer on them. Draco picked up on the sport of football (American football, not soccer) within a few months and now couldn't be unglued from the TV during a game. He especially loved movies, as the wizarding world only had live plays.
Hermione picked up the receiver. She could answer with a simple, "Yo," because the phone only accepted calls from the other two families. So she said, "Yo. Talk."
"Hey, Mya, it's Ginny," said Ginny cheerfully. "I knew you'd be awake. Lily's driving me nuts."
"Talk about it," sighed Hermione. "Diane woke me up three times last night." Draco rolled his eyes and flipped onto his stomach. Woman talk.
"Listen, I was wondering if we could be a little late. Harry won't wake up."
"I see he hasn't changed," Hermione laughed. "I know, Draco won't either. Do you want to come at ten?"
"That'd be great," Ginny agreed. "See you later!"
"Bye, Gin."
"What won't I do?" asked Draco. "Actually, don't answer that. I have to sleep."
Hermione got up from the king-sized bed and drew open the gold and silver shades. Sunlight streamed in, and Diane squinted her eyes and squirmed. The whole room was gold and silver. It had a sitting area and a fireplace one side and a gigantic bathroom on another. It was the ideal master suite.
Hermione took Devon by the hand.
"I just fed her," she told Narcissa a few minutes later. "I'll be back in an hour or so."
She led Devon to the biggest and most used kitchen.
"I want toast," he ordered. It wasn't a request.
"All right, Mr. Bossy," laughed Hermione.
She poured Devon some orange juice and quickly made toast. She sat down next to him and watched over him while he ate. It was 7:45.
"What does sexy mean?" asked Devon innocently.
Hermione snorted. "Who told you that?"
"Daddy said you were sexy," explained Devon. "He said it was our guy secret."
"We'll see about that. I'll have a talk with him about talking appropriately around toddlers," she frowned, her hand on her hip.
"Good morning," said Draco, yawning and rubbing his eyes, just walking in. "Were you talking about me? I heard the word sexy."
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, Draco and sexy wouldn't fit in the same sentence unless there was an 'is not' in between."
Devon handed in his plate and left to go to his playroom chanting, "My mommy is sexy! My mommy is sexy!"
"Draco, look what you did!" scolded Hermione. "He's going to go tell that to everyone now and what are they going to think?"
Draco was shaking with laughter. "It's pretty damn funny!"
"I don't care how damn funny it is! No more stuff like that, okay?"
"Fine, fine. Sorry," he apologized. "What do you want me to do?"
"For now, go get Diane from Narcissa. She's probably driving her nuts. And check to see what Devon's doing. I have to cook."
"Yes, mother," replied Draco. "But you know I'm watching football after, right?"
Hermione sighed. "Watch football with Harry and Ron later. Now, you can help me." She sounded like a mother giving instructions to a child. She was like that when it came to work.
She set to work, bustling around the kitchen and making preparations.
Draco went to pick up Diane.
"Hey, mum," he said. "I'm here to kidnap Di."
He swooped her through the air and made her cringe. He carried her as if she were a football and sprinted through the house yelling, "Intercepted! To the 50 yard line! To the 40! 30! 20! 10! Touchdown!" he finally shouted, pretending to slam Diane onto the couch in the family room by the kitchen Hermione was cooking in.
"Draco, she's not a football!" Hermione laughed. "Why did I ever let you watch TV?"
Draco picked up the baby again and ran with her to Devon's playroom.
"Hey, daddy," he said. "Do you wanna play broomsticks with me?"
"Sorry, Dev, I gotta watch Di. Maybe when she's taking a nap this afternoon we can play football."
"Maybe," he echoed, looking sad.
"Listen, Dev," said Draco, carrying Devon in his free arm, so he had a kid in each. "I want to, but we have guests coming, so I have to watch Diane so Mummy can cook."
"What guests?" asked Devon suspiciously.
"Tom and Ann and Lily!"
"I love Tom and Ann!" cried Devon. "But Lily cries too much."
"And Uncle Harry and Ron, too," added Draco. "They weren't really Devon's uncles, but they were close. If James hadn't died before he got to marry Narcissa, they would have been.
"Uncle Harry!" shrieked Devon. Harry was his favorite "relative," so to speak. "Mummy told me all the soees about him!" What was new? Harry Potter was famous with even toddlers. He was even more famous now that he'd killed Voldemort. "Are we gonna watch fubul with him?"
"Sure, Dev," replied Draco, putting him down. "We'll watch 'fubul.' Let's go see if Mummy wants you to get changed. They'll be here soon."
"Can I wear my green shirt?"
Draco laughed. If this kid wasn't a Slytherin at heart, who was?
"If Mummy says you can, of course."
"Mummy!" Devon called, waddling through the hall. "Can I wear my green shirt? Pretty please?"
"Your favorite one?" she asked, flipping a pancake.
"Yeah! Please?"
"I put it in the laundry. I was going to do it tonight. Can you wear one of the other green ones?"
"Hell no!" he screamed, stamping his feet. That was another of the lines he'd heard his father say.
Draco sent Hermione a look that clearly said, "Don't hurt me!" Hermione decided to deal with her husband later.
"Devon, dear, don't say that," she said sweetly. "It's not nice. You can wear that new green one that I bought you last week."
"No!" he yelled, punching Hermione's thighs, as that was about as high as he could reach. "Do laundry now!"
"Dev," started Hermione. Devon was really calm usually, but he had his occasional tantrums. "You can't always get what you want."
"I want my green shirt!" he bawled, tears coming down his face.
"Give it to him," shrugged Draco.
"We can't just spoil our kids like that," protested Hermione. "He has to learn. Devon, if you wear another green shirt now, I'll wash your favorite one after your nap so you can wear it until you go to bed. Sound good?"
Devon stopped crying. "Promise?"
Hermione had won him over easily. "Promise," she agreed. "Draco, do you want to hold Diane or change Devon?"
"Devon, definitely," he answered quickly, handing Diane over. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Just hurry."
"Come on, buddy," Draco beckoned. Devon followed him. "So, green shirt, khakis," he said, rummaging through the drawers of Devon's huge dresser. "Here we are."
They both finished changing as the doorbell rang. Draco didn't understand why this had to be so formal; they were best friends. They could all come in sweats and it wouldn't matter. Which is exactly what Harry and Ron were wearing. Well, Hermione was the perfectionist, and Draco ended up with her.
Harry was almost knocked over when Devon came running into him; Lily was already squirming in his arms.
"Hey, Dev," he said, handing his daughter over to Ginny. "Hey, Mione, Draco. Yeah, Dev, calm down. I know there's a football game. But, God, I'm so hungry."
"No kidding," said Ron. Luna pinched him.
"You'd think we don't feed them," sighed Ginny.
"I know," said Hermione. "Excuse me, guys." She called Narcissa on the IC. "Narcissa, you can come have breakfast!"
"I was just coming, dear," she said. "Be right there."
As soon as they were all seated, the youngsters in highchairs, they dug into a great breakfast.
"Harry, Ron, how are your jobs?" asked Narcissa politely.
"Quidditch could never be boring," replied Harry. He played Seeker on the London International Team. "We just beat Krum and the Bulgarians."
"Good job!" congratulated Hermione.
"It would've been better if you just killed him in the Triwizard," commented Ron.
"It all works out," shrugged Harry. "So, how's work, Draco?"
"There are some major S.O.B.s in my department," Draco replied. He was head of Magical Games and Sports. "Like they want to completely change the rules of Quidditch. I'm not going to let them."
"Good," said Harry.
"Hey, Ron, how's your job?" asked Draco. Ron hadn't joined the conversation until now; he was busy eating. Ron was a member of the law enforcement squad, kind of like wizard policemen.
He took a huge bite, swallowed, and answered, "It's fine. Regular stuff, you know. Send a few people to Azkaban now and then, but we've got the last of the Death Eaters rounded up. They were hiding until now. Hermione, did you cook this? It's really good."
Hermione smiled. "Luna, Ann and Tom have stopped waking up at night now, right?"
"I'm so glad they have," said Luna, laying down her fork. "It was awful before because there were two of them."
"You must have been driven insane," sympathized Ginny. "I think just the one Lily is tough. She has a mind of her own, that one."
Diane started crying from her bassinette in the family room.
"I'll get her," offered Narcissa.
"No, I have to go nurse her," said Hermione. She hurried to the wailing baby.
"Can we please play fubul?" begged Devon.
"Yeah!" chimed in Tom. "Please?"
"No!" objected Ann. "Mum, if they play fubul, I want my dolls!"
Luna dug in her bag and produced Ann's twin dolls, Hannah and Katherine. Ann started playing with them and talking to herself.
"The game's at twelve, right?" asked Harry.
"Yeah," said Draco. "Packers versus Tampa Bay." Draco had found a US map and placed pushpins where all the teams were, as they didn't know America's cities too well, and to teach Devon mostly, though. Of course, there was a European NFL, but the Americans knew how to play so much better.
"Dad, can I skip my nap?" asked Devon.
"I don't know. Talk to your mum," answered Draco.
"Ma ma!" screamed Lily. "Da da!"
"Isn't it time for her nap?" suggested Harry hopefully. Maybe he'd get out of watching her.
"Oh, my god, you're right!" exclaimed Ginny. "Lil, let's go. Luna, do you want me to take Ann and Tom?"
"No," she replied. "They're older than Lily. They can stay up a little later."
Each of the couple's children had their own room at Malfoy Manor. Their house was so big that they didn't know what to do with it. Harry made big bucks, as he was a Quidditch player, so all the kids had rooms at his house, too. Mr. Weasley, being dead, had left Ron quite an inheritance, so there was also a kid wing at his house.
"Okay, let's go play football!" suggested Harry.
"We don't have our brooms, though!" said Ron.
"Since when did we use brooms to play football?" asked Draco.
They laughed.
"Just ignore me, okay?" said Ron.
"When do we not?" said Draco.
But Harry was silent. "But we could..." he said.
"Could what?" asked Draco. "Are you losing your mind, too?"
"No!" replied Harry. "I've always been insane, but we could play football on brooms!"
"That's an idea..." said Ron. "Let's go get them."
"Yeah, be right back," agreed Harry. They quickly Disapparated. Devon screamed.
"They dispude (A/N: disappeared)!" he exclaimed. "The ghost took them. I know there was a ghost but mummy said no! Uncle Harry's gone! What-"
"Dev, Dev, calm down!" ordered Draco, tackling Devon, who was running around. "They'll be back. They went to get their brooms."
Devon collapsed on the ground, sitting Indian-style with his head on his hands, muttering, "Daddy's a liar. The ghost was here."
Draco laughed and took the stairs by threes to go change into more comfortable clothes.
He returned downstairs with his Firebolt 9 to find Harry and Ron waiting for him with their identical brooms.
Devon ran into Harry again. "You're back!" he cried. "Did the ghost hurt you?"
"I see I wasn't missed," said Ron in mock rejection.
"No, Dev, it wasn't a ghost," assured Harry. "You're going on your dad's broom right?"
"Yeah, Dev, you're coming with me," said Draco. "I don't trust certain insane people."
"Tom, come here," said Ron.
"And I'm going solo!" exclaimed Harry. "Hopefully I won't hit the ground!" (A/N: get it? Flying so low??? Solo?? Yeah, it's weird.)
Ten-second silence.
"I hope my sister isn't the cause of this," said Ron, shaking his head.
"You both need to shut- I mean, be quiet," said Draco.
"Yeah, thhhh..." said Devon, holding up his finger to his mouth. (A/N: if you had a lisp, shhh would sound like thhh.)
"You guys should go before you hurt yourselves," advised Ginny, walking in. "Plus, the game starts in an hour!"
Once everyone was on their broom outside, Harry, of course, solo, they took off, football in Devon's hands.
"I'm open, Dev!" shouted Harry. "I'm open! Over- Shi- I mean, oww." He'd just flown into a tree, as he was looking backwards at Devon.
"You're a professional Quidditch player?" asked Draco. "You have to wonder."
"Smooth," laughed Ron.
"Yeah, good thing Devon wasn't with you," said Draco.
"I'm still open!" called Harry again.
Devon tossed the ball about as far as he could, which was around three feet. No problem for Harry, though, him being a Seeker. He dived and caught it easily.
"Ron, go to the endzone!" he yelled. "Tom! Catch this!"
Tom leaned over to catch the ball and slid off the broom. Ron caught him by the leg and pulled him back up.
"You okay, buddy?"
"I think we need a time out," sighed Tom. "That was a tough pass."
"What's he want?" asked Harry, flying over.
"Really, I just gotta sit," said Tom, putting his hand on his chest. "That gave me a fright."
Harry looked quizzically at Ron as if to say, "Where the hell did he learn that?"
Ron shrugged, almost as though he were answering Harry's silent question.
"Do you want me to put you down for a few minutes?" he asked.
"That would be fine," answered Tom. Ron put him on the ground and flew off again. A few more minutes into the game, Devon nearly fell asleep on the broom.
"Dev, do you want to go sit by Tom?" asked Draco.
"Yeah," nodded Devon. "Skipping naps is bad."
So Devon joined Tom under the tree as the three young men played regular Quidditch for half an hour.
Five minutes before the football game, they dismounted their brooms to find Devon and Tom asleep on their stomachs, butts up. They laughed.
Harry said, "Take them to their rooms. I'll meet you in the TV room."
So Ron and Draco, sons in their arms, took their children to their separate rooms. As Draco laid Devon down, a fatherly wave of emotion swept over him. He brushed Devon's hair from his face and studied his angelic features, not including the lovely grass stain on his pants.
Maybe Draco wasn't the perfect dad, but at least he hadn't joined the Death Eaters and mentally abused his son. At least he loved Devon. And that in itself was more than Lucius had ever been able to do for Draco. True, it took a lot to be loved or even liked by Draco. The only guys he could say he felt brotherly with were Harry and Ron. And girls were Hermione, of course, his mother, and Luna. So his circle of friends was tight.
Draco sat there for the next few minutes, thinking about what his life would have been like if he hadn't fallen in love with Hermione. For one, Voldemort would probably have been alive. Devon would be in Voldemort's clutches, being tortured by him, and Draco would be helping. Draco looked again at his son and couldn't bring himself to even imagine abusing Devon. Thank God that Hermione was so hott, or he wouldn't have started liking her in the first place. He decided then and there to help more with Diane. It was the least he could do. After all, it was his fault that Hermione had to have Devon and risk her life for his sake.
He shook himself out of his torpor and checked his watch; the game had already started. Jumping up, he ran down the stairs.
He quickly kissed Hermione on the way to the TV room. "Love you," he said.
Hermione frowned suspiciously at this. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Nothing, I swear," he answered.
"It's always something," she said. "And no, I haven't forgotten the nice slur of words you taught Devon."
Draco sprinted from the kitchen before she could lecture him.
"I love you, too," she called after him.
Smiling, he dropped onto the couch.
"What took you?" asked Ron.
"Shut up!" yelled Harry. "They're already going for- yes! Touchdown!"
"What?" said Draco. "I missed it? They've been playing for like five minutes!"
"7-0 for the Packers as Bidwell gets the extra point," said the commentator. "We'll be back after the commercial break."
"Fucking commercials," said Draco, who was now in quite a grumpy mood.
"No shit," said Ron. Football Sundays were always swearing parties, as their wives wouldn't let them swear the whole week. "That's the bad thing about TV."
Harry didn't participate in this TV-insulting spree, as he'd endured commercials with the Dursleys for sixteen summers of his life.
Three hours later, after three beers each (not to mention how many chips?), the Packers had dominated 31-3.
"I can't move," groaned Ron. "I ate so much."
"I watch my weight," said Draco patronizingly.
"I don't have to," said Harry. "I burn it all off."
"We sound like women," said Draco. "Talking about our weight. Just shut up."
"Draco!" called Hermione. "You have to watch Di now."
"We feel your pain," sympathized Harry. "But, yeah, we're going to leave now. Mind if we leave our kids with you?"
"You wish," laughed Draco. "Bye."
And so the guests all left, leaving a reluctant Draco to watch Di and Devon.
What do you think?? Yes, I'm a dedicated and obsessed Green Bay Packers fan... Just thought it would add flava to the story. It's not important. Review!! And I will be getting the James/Lily story up. Just search under my name. Coming soon!!
~ Marina (iluvdraco4eva)
Hermione awoke the third time that night to ear-splitting shrieks. Almost screaming in anger herself, she sat bolt upright and glanced tiredly at her watch: 6:45. It had been a long night.
She leaned over and pulled Diane out of her crib. Newborns were tough, and Diane was five months old. With some rocking and nursing, the baby fell fast asleep as if nothing had happened. Amazing how guys could sleep through all of this. Hermione turned to her husband Draco who was half hanging off the bed. Laughing lightly, she pulled him back on and covered him up. You could never guess that Draco was a few months short of 23. He acted like his almost-three-year-old son Devon.
And, speaking of Devon, as Hermione was putting her head down for a last half an hour of sleep, Devon came running into the room. Even though he was dead scared, he was some cute sight in his broomstick-pattern blue pajamas. They brought out his bright blue eyes, which were slightly unlike his father's gray ones. Other than that, he was Draco, from his white blonde hair to his show-off attitude. He scrambled into the bed and pulled the covers over himself.
"Have a nightmare, Dev?" she asked, tickling him.
He started laughing and pulled back the sheets.
"I'm okay now," he giggled. "I thought I saw a ghost."
"Well, they're not real," she comforted.
"Liar," grunted Draco, opening his eyes. Hermione glared at him.
"I mean they're real," she corrected, "but they're nice. When you go to school when you're a big boy, you'll meet some."
"So they're not scary?" he asked in disbelief. "They looks scary from the picture in my soee (A/N: pronounced SO-ee)."
"What?" she asked.
"His story," explained Draco. "His ghost story. He can't say story."
"Oh," nodded Hermione. "Dev, do you want to go back to bed for an hour?"
"No! I'm up!"
"I'm not," said Draco, pulling the pillow over his head. "Wake me up at noon."
"No! Get up!" demanded Hermione. "Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna will be here at nine for breakfast with us!"
"That's in two hours!" exclaimed Draco. "And do they have to bring their kids?"
Lily was Harry and Ginny's girl. Tom and Anne were Ron and Luna's twins, both one month younger than Devon.
"Lily's not as restless as Diane," she sighed. "She's one. Now I'm sorry to wake you up, but help me make a separate early breakfast for Devon."
"Go ask my mum," he replied grumpily. Narcissa lived in the West Wing of the manor.
"I'm not waking her up at seven o'clock when she has nothing to do!" protested Hermione.
"She wakes up at five anyway," said Draco. "Call her on the IC." The IC was the intercom between rooms at the manor. The green light flashed on as Draco spoke.
"Hermione, dear, are you awake?" she called, as if she'd heard their conversation. "Do you need me to do anything?"
"It'd be really great if you could watch Diane for a few minutes so I can make Devon breakfast," said Hermione. "Then I have to get ready for guests."
"Aren't Harry and Ginny and Ron and Luna coming?" Narcissa asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied. "I'll bring Diane to you in a few minutes. Bye!" She clicked the IC off. "Draco, I'm giving you until 7:30. And if you're not in the kitchen by then, you'll be in trouble."
"I'm scared," said Draco sarcastically into the pillow.
"Good," said Hermione. "Devon, let's go." She picked up Diane. Just as she was walking out, the phone rang. Usually, wizards don't have phones, but the three couples had agreed it was easier than traveling by fire or sending word by owl. So Hermione and Harry got telephones for each house (Malfoy Manor needed about fifty extensions) and taught Ginny, Draco, and Luna how to use them. Hermione had also forced a TV and computer on them. Draco picked up on the sport of football (American football, not soccer) within a few months and now couldn't be unglued from the TV during a game. He especially loved movies, as the wizarding world only had live plays.
Hermione picked up the receiver. She could answer with a simple, "Yo," because the phone only accepted calls from the other two families. So she said, "Yo. Talk."
"Hey, Mya, it's Ginny," said Ginny cheerfully. "I knew you'd be awake. Lily's driving me nuts."
"Talk about it," sighed Hermione. "Diane woke me up three times last night." Draco rolled his eyes and flipped onto his stomach. Woman talk.
"Listen, I was wondering if we could be a little late. Harry won't wake up."
"I see he hasn't changed," Hermione laughed. "I know, Draco won't either. Do you want to come at ten?"
"That'd be great," Ginny agreed. "See you later!"
"Bye, Gin."
"What won't I do?" asked Draco. "Actually, don't answer that. I have to sleep."
Hermione got up from the king-sized bed and drew open the gold and silver shades. Sunlight streamed in, and Diane squinted her eyes and squirmed. The whole room was gold and silver. It had a sitting area and a fireplace one side and a gigantic bathroom on another. It was the ideal master suite.
Hermione took Devon by the hand.
"I just fed her," she told Narcissa a few minutes later. "I'll be back in an hour or so."
She led Devon to the biggest and most used kitchen.
"I want toast," he ordered. It wasn't a request.
"All right, Mr. Bossy," laughed Hermione.
She poured Devon some orange juice and quickly made toast. She sat down next to him and watched over him while he ate. It was 7:45.
"What does sexy mean?" asked Devon innocently.
Hermione snorted. "Who told you that?"
"Daddy said you were sexy," explained Devon. "He said it was our guy secret."
"We'll see about that. I'll have a talk with him about talking appropriately around toddlers," she frowned, her hand on her hip.
"Good morning," said Draco, yawning and rubbing his eyes, just walking in. "Were you talking about me? I heard the word sexy."
Hermione laughed. "Yeah, Draco and sexy wouldn't fit in the same sentence unless there was an 'is not' in between."
Devon handed in his plate and left to go to his playroom chanting, "My mommy is sexy! My mommy is sexy!"
"Draco, look what you did!" scolded Hermione. "He's going to go tell that to everyone now and what are they going to think?"
Draco was shaking with laughter. "It's pretty damn funny!"
"I don't care how damn funny it is! No more stuff like that, okay?"
"Fine, fine. Sorry," he apologized. "What do you want me to do?"
"For now, go get Diane from Narcissa. She's probably driving her nuts. And check to see what Devon's doing. I have to cook."
"Yes, mother," replied Draco. "But you know I'm watching football after, right?"
Hermione sighed. "Watch football with Harry and Ron later. Now, you can help me." She sounded like a mother giving instructions to a child. She was like that when it came to work.
She set to work, bustling around the kitchen and making preparations.
Draco went to pick up Diane.
"Hey, mum," he said. "I'm here to kidnap Di."
He swooped her through the air and made her cringe. He carried her as if she were a football and sprinted through the house yelling, "Intercepted! To the 50 yard line! To the 40! 30! 20! 10! Touchdown!" he finally shouted, pretending to slam Diane onto the couch in the family room by the kitchen Hermione was cooking in.
"Draco, she's not a football!" Hermione laughed. "Why did I ever let you watch TV?"
Draco picked up the baby again and ran with her to Devon's playroom.
"Hey, daddy," he said. "Do you wanna play broomsticks with me?"
"Sorry, Dev, I gotta watch Di. Maybe when she's taking a nap this afternoon we can play football."
"Maybe," he echoed, looking sad.
"Listen, Dev," said Draco, carrying Devon in his free arm, so he had a kid in each. "I want to, but we have guests coming, so I have to watch Diane so Mummy can cook."
"What guests?" asked Devon suspiciously.
"Tom and Ann and Lily!"
"I love Tom and Ann!" cried Devon. "But Lily cries too much."
"And Uncle Harry and Ron, too," added Draco. "They weren't really Devon's uncles, but they were close. If James hadn't died before he got to marry Narcissa, they would have been.
"Uncle Harry!" shrieked Devon. Harry was his favorite "relative," so to speak. "Mummy told me all the soees about him!" What was new? Harry Potter was famous with even toddlers. He was even more famous now that he'd killed Voldemort. "Are we gonna watch fubul with him?"
"Sure, Dev," replied Draco, putting him down. "We'll watch 'fubul.' Let's go see if Mummy wants you to get changed. They'll be here soon."
"Can I wear my green shirt?"
Draco laughed. If this kid wasn't a Slytherin at heart, who was?
"If Mummy says you can, of course."
"Mummy!" Devon called, waddling through the hall. "Can I wear my green shirt? Pretty please?"
"Your favorite one?" she asked, flipping a pancake.
"Yeah! Please?"
"I put it in the laundry. I was going to do it tonight. Can you wear one of the other green ones?"
"Hell no!" he screamed, stamping his feet. That was another of the lines he'd heard his father say.
Draco sent Hermione a look that clearly said, "Don't hurt me!" Hermione decided to deal with her husband later.
"Devon, dear, don't say that," she said sweetly. "It's not nice. You can wear that new green one that I bought you last week."
"No!" he yelled, punching Hermione's thighs, as that was about as high as he could reach. "Do laundry now!"
"Dev," started Hermione. Devon was really calm usually, but he had his occasional tantrums. "You can't always get what you want."
"I want my green shirt!" he bawled, tears coming down his face.
"Give it to him," shrugged Draco.
"We can't just spoil our kids like that," protested Hermione. "He has to learn. Devon, if you wear another green shirt now, I'll wash your favorite one after your nap so you can wear it until you go to bed. Sound good?"
Devon stopped crying. "Promise?"
Hermione had won him over easily. "Promise," she agreed. "Draco, do you want to hold Diane or change Devon?"
"Devon, definitely," he answered quickly, handing Diane over. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Just hurry."
"Come on, buddy," Draco beckoned. Devon followed him. "So, green shirt, khakis," he said, rummaging through the drawers of Devon's huge dresser. "Here we are."
They both finished changing as the doorbell rang. Draco didn't understand why this had to be so formal; they were best friends. They could all come in sweats and it wouldn't matter. Which is exactly what Harry and Ron were wearing. Well, Hermione was the perfectionist, and Draco ended up with her.
Harry was almost knocked over when Devon came running into him; Lily was already squirming in his arms.
"Hey, Dev," he said, handing his daughter over to Ginny. "Hey, Mione, Draco. Yeah, Dev, calm down. I know there's a football game. But, God, I'm so hungry."
"No kidding," said Ron. Luna pinched him.
"You'd think we don't feed them," sighed Ginny.
"I know," said Hermione. "Excuse me, guys." She called Narcissa on the IC. "Narcissa, you can come have breakfast!"
"I was just coming, dear," she said. "Be right there."
As soon as they were all seated, the youngsters in highchairs, they dug into a great breakfast.
"Harry, Ron, how are your jobs?" asked Narcissa politely.
"Quidditch could never be boring," replied Harry. He played Seeker on the London International Team. "We just beat Krum and the Bulgarians."
"Good job!" congratulated Hermione.
"It would've been better if you just killed him in the Triwizard," commented Ron.
"It all works out," shrugged Harry. "So, how's work, Draco?"
"There are some major S.O.B.s in my department," Draco replied. He was head of Magical Games and Sports. "Like they want to completely change the rules of Quidditch. I'm not going to let them."
"Good," said Harry.
"Hey, Ron, how's your job?" asked Draco. Ron hadn't joined the conversation until now; he was busy eating. Ron was a member of the law enforcement squad, kind of like wizard policemen.
He took a huge bite, swallowed, and answered, "It's fine. Regular stuff, you know. Send a few people to Azkaban now and then, but we've got the last of the Death Eaters rounded up. They were hiding until now. Hermione, did you cook this? It's really good."
Hermione smiled. "Luna, Ann and Tom have stopped waking up at night now, right?"
"I'm so glad they have," said Luna, laying down her fork. "It was awful before because there were two of them."
"You must have been driven insane," sympathized Ginny. "I think just the one Lily is tough. She has a mind of her own, that one."
Diane started crying from her bassinette in the family room.
"I'll get her," offered Narcissa.
"No, I have to go nurse her," said Hermione. She hurried to the wailing baby.
"Can we please play fubul?" begged Devon.
"Yeah!" chimed in Tom. "Please?"
"No!" objected Ann. "Mum, if they play fubul, I want my dolls!"
Luna dug in her bag and produced Ann's twin dolls, Hannah and Katherine. Ann started playing with them and talking to herself.
"The game's at twelve, right?" asked Harry.
"Yeah," said Draco. "Packers versus Tampa Bay." Draco had found a US map and placed pushpins where all the teams were, as they didn't know America's cities too well, and to teach Devon mostly, though. Of course, there was a European NFL, but the Americans knew how to play so much better.
"Dad, can I skip my nap?" asked Devon.
"I don't know. Talk to your mum," answered Draco.
"Ma ma!" screamed Lily. "Da da!"
"Isn't it time for her nap?" suggested Harry hopefully. Maybe he'd get out of watching her.
"Oh, my god, you're right!" exclaimed Ginny. "Lil, let's go. Luna, do you want me to take Ann and Tom?"
"No," she replied. "They're older than Lily. They can stay up a little later."
Each of the couple's children had their own room at Malfoy Manor. Their house was so big that they didn't know what to do with it. Harry made big bucks, as he was a Quidditch player, so all the kids had rooms at his house, too. Mr. Weasley, being dead, had left Ron quite an inheritance, so there was also a kid wing at his house.
"Okay, let's go play football!" suggested Harry.
"We don't have our brooms, though!" said Ron.
"Since when did we use brooms to play football?" asked Draco.
They laughed.
"Just ignore me, okay?" said Ron.
"When do we not?" said Draco.
But Harry was silent. "But we could..." he said.
"Could what?" asked Draco. "Are you losing your mind, too?"
"No!" replied Harry. "I've always been insane, but we could play football on brooms!"
"That's an idea..." said Ron. "Let's go get them."
"Yeah, be right back," agreed Harry. They quickly Disapparated. Devon screamed.
"They dispude (A/N: disappeared)!" he exclaimed. "The ghost took them. I know there was a ghost but mummy said no! Uncle Harry's gone! What-"
"Dev, Dev, calm down!" ordered Draco, tackling Devon, who was running around. "They'll be back. They went to get their brooms."
Devon collapsed on the ground, sitting Indian-style with his head on his hands, muttering, "Daddy's a liar. The ghost was here."
Draco laughed and took the stairs by threes to go change into more comfortable clothes.
He returned downstairs with his Firebolt 9 to find Harry and Ron waiting for him with their identical brooms.
Devon ran into Harry again. "You're back!" he cried. "Did the ghost hurt you?"
"I see I wasn't missed," said Ron in mock rejection.
"No, Dev, it wasn't a ghost," assured Harry. "You're going on your dad's broom right?"
"Yeah, Dev, you're coming with me," said Draco. "I don't trust certain insane people."
"Tom, come here," said Ron.
"And I'm going solo!" exclaimed Harry. "Hopefully I won't hit the ground!" (A/N: get it? Flying so low??? Solo?? Yeah, it's weird.)
Ten-second silence.
"I hope my sister isn't the cause of this," said Ron, shaking his head.
"You both need to shut- I mean, be quiet," said Draco.
"Yeah, thhhh..." said Devon, holding up his finger to his mouth. (A/N: if you had a lisp, shhh would sound like thhh.)
"You guys should go before you hurt yourselves," advised Ginny, walking in. "Plus, the game starts in an hour!"
Once everyone was on their broom outside, Harry, of course, solo, they took off, football in Devon's hands.
"I'm open, Dev!" shouted Harry. "I'm open! Over- Shi- I mean, oww." He'd just flown into a tree, as he was looking backwards at Devon.
"You're a professional Quidditch player?" asked Draco. "You have to wonder."
"Smooth," laughed Ron.
"Yeah, good thing Devon wasn't with you," said Draco.
"I'm still open!" called Harry again.
Devon tossed the ball about as far as he could, which was around three feet. No problem for Harry, though, him being a Seeker. He dived and caught it easily.
"Ron, go to the endzone!" he yelled. "Tom! Catch this!"
Tom leaned over to catch the ball and slid off the broom. Ron caught him by the leg and pulled him back up.
"You okay, buddy?"
"I think we need a time out," sighed Tom. "That was a tough pass."
"What's he want?" asked Harry, flying over.
"Really, I just gotta sit," said Tom, putting his hand on his chest. "That gave me a fright."
Harry looked quizzically at Ron as if to say, "Where the hell did he learn that?"
Ron shrugged, almost as though he were answering Harry's silent question.
"Do you want me to put you down for a few minutes?" he asked.
"That would be fine," answered Tom. Ron put him on the ground and flew off again. A few more minutes into the game, Devon nearly fell asleep on the broom.
"Dev, do you want to go sit by Tom?" asked Draco.
"Yeah," nodded Devon. "Skipping naps is bad."
So Devon joined Tom under the tree as the three young men played regular Quidditch for half an hour.
Five minutes before the football game, they dismounted their brooms to find Devon and Tom asleep on their stomachs, butts up. They laughed.
Harry said, "Take them to their rooms. I'll meet you in the TV room."
So Ron and Draco, sons in their arms, took their children to their separate rooms. As Draco laid Devon down, a fatherly wave of emotion swept over him. He brushed Devon's hair from his face and studied his angelic features, not including the lovely grass stain on his pants.
Maybe Draco wasn't the perfect dad, but at least he hadn't joined the Death Eaters and mentally abused his son. At least he loved Devon. And that in itself was more than Lucius had ever been able to do for Draco. True, it took a lot to be loved or even liked by Draco. The only guys he could say he felt brotherly with were Harry and Ron. And girls were Hermione, of course, his mother, and Luna. So his circle of friends was tight.
Draco sat there for the next few minutes, thinking about what his life would have been like if he hadn't fallen in love with Hermione. For one, Voldemort would probably have been alive. Devon would be in Voldemort's clutches, being tortured by him, and Draco would be helping. Draco looked again at his son and couldn't bring himself to even imagine abusing Devon. Thank God that Hermione was so hott, or he wouldn't have started liking her in the first place. He decided then and there to help more with Diane. It was the least he could do. After all, it was his fault that Hermione had to have Devon and risk her life for his sake.
He shook himself out of his torpor and checked his watch; the game had already started. Jumping up, he ran down the stairs.
He quickly kissed Hermione on the way to the TV room. "Love you," he said.
Hermione frowned suspiciously at this. "What do you want?" she asked.
"Nothing, I swear," he answered.
"It's always something," she said. "And no, I haven't forgotten the nice slur of words you taught Devon."
Draco sprinted from the kitchen before she could lecture him.
"I love you, too," she called after him.
Smiling, he dropped onto the couch.
"What took you?" asked Ron.
"Shut up!" yelled Harry. "They're already going for- yes! Touchdown!"
"What?" said Draco. "I missed it? They've been playing for like five minutes!"
"7-0 for the Packers as Bidwell gets the extra point," said the commentator. "We'll be back after the commercial break."
"Fucking commercials," said Draco, who was now in quite a grumpy mood.
"No shit," said Ron. Football Sundays were always swearing parties, as their wives wouldn't let them swear the whole week. "That's the bad thing about TV."
Harry didn't participate in this TV-insulting spree, as he'd endured commercials with the Dursleys for sixteen summers of his life.
Three hours later, after three beers each (not to mention how many chips?), the Packers had dominated 31-3.
"I can't move," groaned Ron. "I ate so much."
"I watch my weight," said Draco patronizingly.
"I don't have to," said Harry. "I burn it all off."
"We sound like women," said Draco. "Talking about our weight. Just shut up."
"Draco!" called Hermione. "You have to watch Di now."
"We feel your pain," sympathized Harry. "But, yeah, we're going to leave now. Mind if we leave our kids with you?"
"You wish," laughed Draco. "Bye."
And so the guests all left, leaving a reluctant Draco to watch Di and Devon.
What do you think?? Yes, I'm a dedicated and obsessed Green Bay Packers fan... Just thought it would add flava to the story. It's not important. Review!! And I will be getting the James/Lily story up. Just search under my name. Coming soon!!
~ Marina (iluvdraco4eva)