AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to JeanandBilius, Maya Poltergeist and Guest for your lovely reviews of Chapter 3; to Arlequinn for adding this fic to Alerts; to HarveyCheyne and JeanandBilius for adding me to Author Alert and especially to Malfoy4Lyfe for adding me to Author Alerts and your encouraging words re my other fic Name Games, which I hope to update very soon. If I've missed anyone out, please let me know and I'll add you to my thanks next update. As 23 people have put me on Author Alert and 28 on Fave Author it's sometimes hard to keep track, which I guess is a nice problem to have! :D Very much appreciated. :)))

Chapter 4

Domestic

"I can't believe we're actually inviting that git here!" Ron Weasley grumbled, for the umpteenth time since he'd got up that morning, crashing the breakfast dishes down so hard that a dinner plate cracked in three places.

"Ron," Hermione reprimanded mildly although her gaze was stern.

Her husband sighed deeply and dutifully fetched his wand. "Reparo!" He ordered, rolling his eyes as though doing the dish a great favour. Despite the accompanying eye-roll, the plate nonetheless took no offence and obligingly put itself back together. He sighed again, feeling very hard done by. Hermione insisted that doing some household chores without magic was not only relaxing but kept wizards and witches "grounded". Ron couldn't see the appeal himself but Hermione could be pretty persuasive. Besides he did love her. In his own way. He even loved some of her crazy ideas. But not all. And Hermione flatly refused to have house elves working for them so, unless they hired a muggle housekeeper – difficult, with so much magic floating around, the magical and muggle world would definitely collide and then there'd be hell to pay with the Ministry – they had no choice but to do certain tasks manually. Even the kids were on a rota to do chores.

Rose and Hugo were on "dish duty" at least twice a week, for instance, which resulted in more dishes being broken than washed and dried, and both children frequently forgetting all about the dishes in their enthusiasm to climb on stools to reach the sink and play blowing bubbles in the soapy water. But Hermione was undaunted. A reparo soon fixed the first problem, she said, and as for the last a scourgifying charm soon mopped up the overspill and dried the miscreants. It did them good to learn not everything in life should be done for them with magic.

"I doubt Scorpius Malfoy has to do chores. Unlike our own kids sweeping up the leaves," Ron mused, glancing out of the kitchen window into the garden where Rose and Hugo were doing just that. Allegedly. It was true they were each armed with a sweeping brush and it was true the garden abounded with wind blown leaves, but there the similarity ended. Not a single leaf had been cleared and the wooden box provided for their collection remained in pristine condition. Instead the Granger-Weasley offspring were busy brushing leaves at each other in what was obviously some kind of serious competitive sport that might or might not make the Olympics in years to come. The extra chore of "Sweeping up the Leaves" was part of the deal for allowing their new friend Scorpius to come over, but as that particular event looked extremely unlikely to happen and Scorpius was coming over anyway it all seemed a pointless exercise. "I reckon he'll be spoilt rotten like his father," he added knowingly.

Ron and Hermione were determined Rose and Hugo wouldn't grow up believing they were better than everyone else. It would be an easy trap to fall into. Like Harry and Ginny, the Weasleys were feted as war heroes wherever they went and they'd all agreed the last thing they wanted was for their kids to have delusions of grandeur a la Draco Malfoy. It was extremely tiresome having to constantly explain to the likes of restaurateurs and shop owners that they really didn't need or want special treatment and still the general wizarding public hadn't quite grasped it. The hundreds of free samples of luxury goods, the latest broomsticks or most elegant robes "to say thank you for defeating Voldemort" which they received on an almost daily basis were quickly sent on to be redistributed among poor wizarding families who had lost houses, possessions, even family, during the War.

Of course Rose and Hugo couldn't have failed to noticed the crowds that gathered, applauding and cheering, when they were out with their parents or Uncle Harry and Auntie Ginny. When they were five, Rose and her cousin Albus had for a short while (a very short while) walked with noses in air and eyes half closed to pointedly ignore the "commoners" when Albus's older brother James told them they were secretly Wizarding Royalty and were expected to. The ruse was quickly discovered however because Rose and Albus kept bumping into mystified fans and for punishment James was banned from playing the popular wizarding game of magic-travel. Fortunately, these days, tricks and jokes aside at home, James did at least behave himself when they were out and about in public. And despite the fabulous wealth that the ex-war heroes enjoyed thanks to their Auror salaries and Ginny's astronomical wages as a top Quidditch star, the three little Potters, just like Rose and Hugo, also had chores to keep them grounded and were most definitely not allowed to perform under-age magic in order to do them.

"Maybe Ferret Face and Ferret-Face Family won't turn up," Ron continued hopefully, swishing another greasy dish round in the washing-up bowl.

"No nicknames," Hermione warned, returning an unwashed knife, and grinning as Ron reluctantly plunged it back into the hot water. "We're the grown-ups here. Anyway, Scorpius seemed a nice enough kid when we met."

"We only saw him for five minutes." Ron sighed, though whether at the thought of Scorpius Malfoy or the grease-smeared knife was anybody's guess. "He's probably every bit as manipulative as his father."

Hermione slapped his arm, splashing water everywhere. "He's a kid, Ron."

"Hmmph. All kids know how to twist adults round their little finger." Ron spoke from experience. He was a pushover where Rose and Hugo were concerned.

"Which again proves he's just a kid."

But for all her bravado, Hermione was dreading coming face-to-face with Draco Malfoy again. It had been bad enough that they'd all accidentally met in the wizarding cemetery while visiting Fred's grave. The few moments spent talking with Malfoy and his wife, while the kids ran happily round with Scorpius Malfoy of all the little witches and wizards in the magical world they could have chosen to run round with, had been surreal. Since then Rose, aided and abetted by Hugo, who was going through a phase of adoring his big sister (he also went through phases when he regarded her as public enemy number one and they had a history of fights to prove it) kept on asking when their parents were going to keep their promise and invite Scorpius over.

Even the kids' pet owl was so sick of hearing the name that he'd taken to flying out to sit in the tree branch as soon as Rose began to utter "Scorpi..." though Trimblefeathers usually preferred to follow the pair around on his favourite perch of Rose's shoulder.

It had been such an extraordinary stroke of bad luck that they'd bumped into each other that day. If Hermione believed in superstition, she might have been convinced that a black cat crossed her path – no, wait, wasn't that meant to be lucky? She'd have to ask her friend Luna next time they floo-called each other; Luna was very big on signs and omens. One thing was certain however. The Malfoys had accepted the invitation (forwarded under duress; Hermione and Ron had been hoping either their children would forget all about it or the request for the Malfoys' company would be politely declined) and would be here this very afternoon.

And if Draco Malfoy dared to put a foot out of line she'd bat bogey hex him ten times worse than Ginny ever did.

XXXXX

Grim-faced, Harry and Ginny arrived at the Granger-Weasley residence at precisely two o'clock. Wearing expressions of pure glee, James, Albus and Lily arrived at precisely five minutes before two. The family had of course apparated together, landing at their usual spot of beneath the spreading branches of the nearby chestnut tree, but the Potter kids raced eagerly ahead.

So great was their apparent joy that if the double doors hadn't already been flung wide open to welcome the guests and the sunshine, they might well have burst it down in a manner to rival the Storming of the Bastille. As it was, Rose and Hugo running just as excitedly from the opposite direction created a minor crash, in which Hugo and Lily head-butted, Rose and Albus somehow tripped over each other's feet, both landing butt first, and James, who'd managed to dodge everyone with skilful Quidditch type manoeuvres, was bent double with helpless laughter. The four adults quickly whipped out wands to fix cuts, bruises and tears.

"Malfoy's not even here yet and look at all the trouble he's caused!" Harry grumbled as they worked, Ron murmuring his assent.

Ginny shook her head and tsked. "Don't be childish, Harry. I'm hardly Draco Malfoy's greatest fan, but even he can't be blamed for something that happens when he's not even present!"

"Exactly, Ginny," Hermione agreed. "I've been telling Ron all day that we're adults now and need to act like it. Honestly, guys..." She looked daggers at her husband and friend; "if all the people who hail you as war heroes could only hear you both now! You sound more whiny than Malfoy ever was."

Harry and Ron h'mmphed, hummed and hawed and then consoled themselves by heading for the firewhiskey. Meanwhile, the kids, wand-healed of their injuries and now being fighting fit, the noise level quickly reached fever pitch, their voices breaking every sound barrier known to wizarding kind. Even Trimblefeathers was flitting quickly in and out, hooting non-stop as though he had heaps to tell everyone and needed to tell it immediately.

"For Merlin's sake, I can't hear myself think! Out, out!" Hermione shoo-ed, and, whether they were meant to exit with the children or not, Harry and Ron, clutching firewhiskey and snacks, hurried into the grounds with the general rabble, Trimblefeathers leading the way.

"Peace at last!" Ginny breathed, nodding her thanks as her friend poured them each a generous glass of Fruits of the Forbidden Forest wine. "Do you think having the Malfoys over will go okay?"

"It'll be fine," Hermione unwittingly echoed Astoria's words. With exactly the same reservations.