1Chapter Two
Author's Notes: Should have put this in chapter one - but hey - who cares? Besides I'm new to this. For this story to be able to exist it is set in an alternative universe where certain events after book five never took place, such as Dumbledore's death - for the simple reason that he's one of my favourite characters and I can't stand to refer to him in the past tense. I've also taken it upon myself to resurrect certain other characters that were so mercilessly taken from us in the last book. I mean what was up with that anyway? Lets kill all our favourite characters one by one and traumatize millions of children all around the world - not mention adults and teenagers! Why didn't more Death-eaters die?! And another thing, what about poor George? It wasn't bad enough that he lost his ear - to Snape no less - but he had to lose his identical twin too?!! You are one sick woman J.K.! - panting heavily from suppressed rage - right well ... er ... please enjoy the story
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own any of these characters that privilege belongs to another Scottish woman I'm afraid.
The twins weren't even twenty four hours old yet and already they were facing a visit from Lucius Malfoy and his wife. To be fair, the ex Death-eater was pretty harmless these days. The fact he was even visiting was something of a miracle (as odd as that sounds). Draco, had after all, refused the to take the Dark Mark, joining forces with the Order instead. He had been quite adamant that he would not become one of Voldermort's pawns. And there were other, more personal reasons, which kept Draco from joining the Death-eaters: like the secret crush on one Hermione Granger he'd been harbouring since first year. With him finally in control of his own life he was finally able to act upon those feelings.
Draco's betrayal cut Lucius deeply, and finally forced him to take a long hard look at himself and exactly what he had become. He had followed Voldermort since his Hogwarts days. He had been promised power, riches and most importantly the eradication of muggles and mudbloods. The Malfoy name already held a certain degree of power, and of coarse his family was one of the wealthiest in the wizarding world, so it was mainly the latter promise that made him join the young league of Death-eaters. His father, Abraxas Malfoy, encouraged this endeavour. Malfoy senior had, after all, taught his son all about the filthy, disgusting, stupid little muggles and the equally vile mudbloods that they spawned, who were not worthy of the magic running through their muddy veins!
But Lucius had never expected that becoming a Death-eater meant committing heinous acts almost on a daily basis. Yes, he was all for scourging the world of muggles and the like, but he had never imagined that he'd be doing the dirty work himself. Malfoys' may be cruel and evil but they were not criminals, and they were not murderers. He hated the smell of blood, and how it felt on his hands, he hated the look on peoples faces just as the light left their eyes, he hated the way his wife would look at him sometimes, almost as if she were afraid of him. But he did it anyway, he followed orders, did what was expected of a faithful Death-eater. All of it out of fear, for the Dark lord grew more violent and unstable with each passing day, turning his wrath regularly on his own followers. So Lucius did what was beneath him, he grovelled and simpered, he murdered and maimed, all the while pretending he enjoyed it.
But what had all this faithful service achieved? Nothing. His family was still wealthy, but no more so than before his enlistment with Voldermort, he hadn't gained any power, and there wasn't a noticeable decrease to the muggle population. He had however been tortured and humiliated; had his life and the lives of his family threatened on numerous occasions; practically destroyed his marriage because of his actions; neglected his son because of Voldermort's Pureblood 'teachings'; had his home raided by ministry officials; lost a house elf trying to get rid of a diary; spent time in Azkaban prison; and lost any respect his son might have ever had for him. And for what? A man who was constantly being thwarted by a young boy.
When Voldermort ordered him to execute his own son, Draco, for not taking the mark, it finally happened, Lucius snapped. He did something he'd swore he would never ever do, he went to Dumbledore and begged for his help. He realised then it just wasn't worth it anymore. He was sick of the struggle, sick of living in fear, sick of being ordered about when a person of his standing should rightly be giving the orders, sick with how his life had turned out. And that was how Lucius Malfoy joined the good side. But before Narcissa Malfoy could breathe a sigh of relief and be happily reunited with her son, Lucius discovered something quite serious. His son was dating Hermione Granger. To say Lucius was outraged would be an understatement, he went completely ballistic. He may have turned his back against the Dark lord but that didn't mean he had changed his opinions on muggle-borns.
There were many rows over the situation, Lucius threatened to disown Draco countless times and cut his inheritance, but the young Malfoy refused budge, he had his freedom now and he wasn't about to give up that or Hermione for anyone. For a long time the father-son-relationship lay in tatters and it seemed unlikely that they would ever speak to each other again. It was Narcissa who convinced Lucius at last, that times had changed and therefore he should too. He had, however reluctantly, accepted Draco's and Hermione's relationship and did his very best to be civil when in her presence. Slowly he was making amendments for his previous crimes, and gradually building a new relationship with his son.
Hermione was down in the lounge (despite all Draco's best efforts to keep her in bed) awaiting the Malfoy's arrival. Mira and Wyatt were asleep in a sweet little bassinet next to the sofa. The junior Malfoy's lived in the country just west of London, in a large Victorian house, which compared to Malfoy manor was quite cosy. The house had three bedrooms, the smallest of which having been transformed into a nursery, a small study, a modest library (where Hermione spent much of her time), a spacious kitchen come dining area, and a beautiful attic space full of junk. The house looked out to a large green lawn bordered by hedges, trees, grassy hills and fields. Presently a deep gong reverberated around the house, Hermione sighed as the twins jerked awake.
"Oh Draco, when are you going to get rid of that ridiculous doorbell? I just got them to sleep!" she exclaimed irritably.
"I know, I know it's on my to-do-list" he assured her sheepishly, striding across the room to answer the front door. "Still -" he called from the hallway "- you can't deny it doesn't add a little character to the place!" Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation and prepared herself for Lucius' visit. From the hall she could hear jubilant voices, Mr and Mrs Malfoy offering Draco their congratulations.
"Right" said Lucius swaggering into the room "Where are my grandsons then?" He spotted the bassinet and instantly moved toward it as Narcissa and Draco entered the room.
"That's grandson and granddaughter" corrected Hermione.
"A girl?" said Lucius, raising an eyebrow in Hermione's direction. "Marvelous! Perhaps there's an advantage to having a mud- I mean muggle-born in the family" he said, giving Hermione a slight bow.
"What have you named them dear?" Narcissa asked Hermione, peering down at the twins fondly.
"Wyatt and Mira" Draco answered before his wife could. "How lovely" said Narcissa.
"Yes, they've definitely got the Malfoy genes" Lucius announced pompously. "I can see that straight away."
"I'm not so sure" Draco disagreed lightly. "Personally I can see a lot of Hermione in them" he said, grinning at his wife. Lucius raised a sceptical eyebrow but said nothing. Mira, having been awakened by the doorbell, began to fuss.
"May I?" said Narcissa, asking Hermione's permission to pick the infant up.
"Of course, Narcissa, you are their grandmother after all" replied Hermione smiling.
"Come here, my darling" cooed Narcissa, scooping up Mira with practiced grace. "Oh aren't you just precious." She bent her head and kissed the baby's forehead. "Oh, it feels like it was just yesterday that Draco was this size, where does the time go?"
Draco groaned and rolled his eyes. "Please, mother, don't get sentimental on me."
"She's been talking like that since we received your owl last night" said Lucius wearily. "Most tiresome. And she wanted to mark this joyous occasion by embarrassing you in front of your wife, Draco."
"Oh nonsense! I had no intention of embarrassing him, don't listen to him Draco."
"She wanted to bring the baby book with us today, to show Hermione. I'm sure you know which one I mean?" said Lucius, giving Draco a pointed look.
"What!" cried Draco, horrified. "Not the one with me on t-the bearskin rug, and in the bath ... and ... and stuff?" he said, blushing slightly as Hermione began to snigger behind her hands.
"The very same" said Lucius gravely. "Had to pry the damn thing out of her hands before we left this morning."
"I just thought Hermione would be interested in seeing her husband in a ... a different light" said Narcissa defensively.
"A different light?" said Draco incredulously, frowning at Hermione as she began to laugh.
"You must bring it round next time you come, Narcissa," giggled Hermione "I'd be fascinated to see what Draco was like as a baby."
"You see, I told you so" said Narcissa triumphantly, while Draco blanched.
"Come, Draco, my lad. Let's have a drink to celebrate eh?" said Lucius suddenly, leading his son out of the room and towards the study and drinks cabinet. Draco was very grateful for the interruption.
"You know I agree with Draco," said Narcissa thoughtfully, studying Mira's face. "I can see a lot of you in the twins, particularly the mouth it's the same shape as yours. Perhaps they'll inherit your wonderful curls?" she smiled affectionately at the young mother. "How adorable that would look with Draco's colouring?" She lowered the baby back into the bassinet and took a seat next to Hermione on the couch.
"We should have a proper celebration to mark the twins' birth, in fact I think we should have a wiccaning."
"A wiccaning?" asked Hermione.
"It's a naming ceremony, and a way to welcome our children into the magical community. The ritual dates back to our druid ancestors" explained Narcissa.
"Really?" said Hermione, fascinated.
"Sadly, not many wizards practice the ritual these days. But I've always found it to be a beautiful ceremony. Oh! And you must pick wiccan names for the twins."
"Wiccan names? But -"
"It's just part of the ritual dear. In ancient times a child was known by his wiccan name when amongst his coven. My own wiccan name," said Narcissa leaning closer and lowering her voice "happens to be Leandra. I never have found out what it means, but I've always thought it sounded rather pretty ... a shame really that I never actually use it, but that's just the way things are."
"What's Draco's wiccan name?" asked Hermione curiously, surprised that she was whispering.
"Draco's is Konane (koh-nah-neh), it means 'bright as the moon'" answered Narcissa. "Which suits him very well considering how blonde he is."
"A wiccaning sounds like a wonderful idea, I'd love to have one for the twins" said Hermione enthusiastically. "Oh" she hesitated "but I bet there's a lot to organise ... and with the twins, I'm going to be very busy over the coming months..."
"Well if you like dear, I could handle everything for you" offered Narcissa "you just tell me what you want, the location, the guests and leave the rest to me."
"Thank you Narcissa, that would be brilliant" said Hermione gratefully.
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Draco had just followed his father into his study when he suddenly found himself in an embrace. To say the young Slytherin was surprised would be an understatement and the look on his handsome face was priceless - a shame really that no-one was there to see it. Lucius Malfoy hardly ever gave out hugs, in fact Draco was sure he could count the number of times his father had hugged him on one hand. Somehow he recovered his senses and returned the embrace feeling bemused.
"Congratulations son" said Lucius, his voice a little gruffer than normal.
"Thank you, father."
The elder Malfoy pulled back then looking Draco square in the eye and gripping his shoulders.
"I know I did a very poor job raising you, Draco, and I'm sorry for that. But I promise I wont make the same mistakes with my grandchildren."
Speechless Draco stared at his father in shock. Am I really hearing this?
"You're not like me, Draco, and I know for sure that you are going to make a fine father."
He cleared his throat then, dropping his hands from Draco's shoulders he turned away toward the drinks cabinet next to Draco's book shelf.
"T-thank you" stuttered Draco numbly.
Lucius simply grunted and nodded his head, he was busy pouring out drinks. Giving himself a mental shake Draco joined his father and took the glass of sherry offered to him. Later when the men returned to the sitting room they found Hermione and Narcissa having an animated conversation and pouring over several books spread over the coffee table.
"Ah, Lucius darling, I need you to owl Salem Nyx when we get home" was Narcissa's way of greeting them.
"But he's dead isn't he?" replied Lucius incredulously, raising his eyebrows. "Died last year of a stroke if I recall correctly."
"No, dear" sighed Narcissa "that was Samuel Nixon. I'm talking about Salem Nyx, the priest!"
"Priest? What do we need a priest for?"
"We're having a wiccaning" announced Narcissa.
"Oh. There's no need, dear, I've already had one" retorted Lucius with a smirk.
"Oh har, har. Very droll..." said Narcissa, her tone waspish. "I know that you buffoon! It's for the twins!"
"Buffoon? I hardly think I deserved that" said Lucius reproachfully.
"Mother not a wiccaning, it's so much hassle to arrange one! We've just had twins for Merlin's sakes" complained Draco.
"That's why your father and I will handle everything. Don't worry about a thing. Besides, Hermione has her heart set on having a wiccaning," she put in for extra measure "you're not going to disappoint her are you?"
"No of coarse not" grumbled Draco.
"Of coarse they're having a wiccaning, all Malfoy's have wiccanings! It's essential they receive their ancestral blessings" added Lucius. He glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece then addressed Narcissa "I think we should be going, my love, I have several meetings scheduled for today. Must keep on top of things."
"Already?" asked Draco, sounding disappointed. "But you haven't even held either of the twins yet!"
"I - urgh - I'm not sure that's such a good idea" muttered Lucius, scratching his chin uneasily.
"Don't waste your time, Draco, your father always was afraid of babies" said Narcissa.
"I'm not afraid!" he cried indignantly "I just - just don't know ... how to ... to hold a baby. I don't want to hurt them or worse drop them!"
"Perhaps you're just afraid they'll be sick on you" muttered Narcissa flicking through a book on her lap.
Lucius' eyes widened in alarm, apparently this thought hadn't occurred to him until his wife had brought it up. He glanced fearfully at the bassinet as if the twins were a pair of cobras ready to strike.
"Don't be silly, Lucius" said Hermione, heaving herself off the couch. "There's no need to worry. Holding a baby is easy," bending over the bassinet she lifted Wyatt into her arms "here we go." Lucius tried to stutter an objection but - too late - the baby was in his arms and Hermione was explaining the correct way to support him.
Wyatt was wide awake and peered up at his grandfather with large dove-grey eyes. Grudgingly Lucius had to admit that there was indeed a likeness to Hermione in Wyatt's face, it was heart-shaped like hers and quite round in the jaw, but the chin, that was Draco, that was the trademark Malfoy chin. He continued to stare at his grandson, feeling a peculiar emotion rising up in his chest and flooding his body with warmth. The longer he stared the more beautiful Wyatt became. The others watched silently as a smile slowly crept onto the older Malfoy's face. Wyatt yawned and waved a little fist in the air, which Lucius took hold of between a thumb and forefinger.
"I'd forgotten" he mumbled, apparently without meaning to.
"What was that, dear?" croaked Narcissa, who suddenly looked misty eyed.
"I - I'd forgotten how small they are, babies I mean" said Lucius quietly. His eyebrows knitted together in a small frown and he asked "Narcissa, what's today's date?"
"Date? Third of February, why?"
"Merlin's beard!" exclaimed Lucius, much to everyone's confusion. "How extraordinary."
"Well don't you see?" he said, peering round at all the blank faces. "Don't you know what day it was yesterday?"
Narcissa suddenly gasped, increasing Draco and Hermione's confusion. "Goodness you're right! I never thought about it, yesterday was Imbolc." At this Draco and Hermione shared a guilty look, with all the drama that went on yesterday they hadn't actually stopped to think about the date of their twins' birth, never mind it's significance.
"Well that certainly has to be a good omen for the future" stated Lucius. "Right we best be going."
"Here I'll take him" said Draco eagerly, stepping forward.
With a few more words of congratulations, and with a little more fussing over the twins on Narcissa's part, the elder Malfoys left the house and disapparated on the door step. Leaving the young couple alone and in peace. Draco made himself comfortable in the armchair across from Hermione, his baby son still held securely in his arms. A brilliant smile lit up his face as he watched Wyatt slowly slip off to sleep. Hermione watched them from the couch, her head held in her hand and the corners of her mouth turning up in a content smile of her own. Draco's going to be a great Dad she thought happily, recalling his worry when she had told him that she was pregnant. Draco had been terrified that he would make a terrible father, given his rather unorthodox upbringing. Hermione had lost count of how many times she had tried to reassure him that he had nothing to worry about.
"Just because your father did a poor job raising you, doesn't mean you'll be the same with our children!" she had told him heatedly, during one of their many arguments over the subject.
But no matter how many times he was reassured, not only from her but from Ron and Harry and even Mr Weasley at one stage, the anxiety remained just beneath the surface. But looking at him now Hermione could see that the anxiety was gone. It had dissolved the moment he had seen Wyatt's face. She made a move to curl her legs beneath her but hissed in sudden pain, even with the potion the mediwitch had given her she was still in a bit of discomfort. Draco's head instantly shot up.
"What's wrong? Are you in pain? Do you want me to get the potion? Maybe I could get you some tea, or run you a bath, would that help?" he gabbled, gazing at her in concern.
"No no, I'm fine honest" she answered sincerely. "I just need some rest and little peace and quiet, that's all."
"You really should be in bed" he told her for what was probably the hundredth time.
"You know, I thought once I'd actually given birth, people would stop treating me like I was an invalid" said Hermione crossly, folding her arms.
"You can't blame a man for trying" replied Draco with an annoying smirk. "I just want to know you're alright."
"I am" said Hermione, a stunning smile spreading over her face. Which Draco returned with a devilish one of his own.
Unfortunately Hermione did not get her wish for peace and quiet, or indeed the rest she so desperately needed because forty minutes later the clan showed up. Bursting out of the fireplace unexpectedly (scaring the living daylights out of Draco and Hermione) Harry, Ron and Ginny - laden down with balloons, stuffed animals, champagne and a box of cigars - called out their greetings and congratulations in loud jubilant voices so that the twins jerked awake yet again. Inwardly both Draco and Hermione groaned.
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Author's Notes:
Imbolc
"This season belongs to Brigid, the Celtic goddess…Originally, her festival on February 1 was known as Imbolc or Oimelc, two names which refer to the lactation of the ewes, the flow of milk that heralds the return of the life-giving forces of spring.
In most parts of the British Isles, February is a harsh and bitter month. In old Scotland, the month fell in the middle of the period known as Faoilleach, the Wolf-month; it was also known as a' marbh mhiòs, the Dead-month. But although this season was so cold and drear, small but sturdy signs of new life began to appear: Lambs were born and soft rain brought new grass. Ravens began to build their nests and larks were said to sing with a clearer voice."