A.N: Thank you all for waiting ever so patiently for this instalment, I know I'm the actual worst when it comes to regular updates. I really hope you like this new chapter, as it took a lot to write.

I hadn't had much sleep that night, due to a sickening mixture of anxiety and electricity buzzing through my brain. My stomach was churning, and my fingertips were numb. I decided that I should read something, in the hope that the words were going to make my eyes drop, and my mind switch off. Fortunately, the trick worked, and I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, the light still switched on, and the book spawned across my chest so that a few pages have been crumpled and folded slightly.

At first I believe my dream to be pleasant. It involved James, admittedly he was shirtless, and he had ridden hundreds of miles on a magnificent white stallion, just so he could confess his undying love for me. Cliché, I know, but my originality had been burnt out due to exhaustion, and I would have settled for anything as long as it included a shirtless James Potter II.

However, that did not last long.

Even as I was dreaming I kept telling myself how odd it was that I wasn't seeing blood, or hearing screams, or witnessing something inexplicably gory for a change. I guess I spoke too soon, as immediately all images of James on his galloping steed evaporated from my mind, and instead were replaced by my usual horrific, blood-stained nightmares.

I was walking, unscathed and untouched, once again, through what could only be described as a battle. Nothing was different, besides the fact that for the first time since having these dreams, I noticed people. These people, struggling and brawling all around me, were young. Strikingly young. Many of the figures I believed were younger than I. It was awful, as I tore my eyes away from body after body, seeing that these bodies, were in fact children. It was as though a veil had been peeled back, and I was finally allowed to see what was underneath. Except I didn't want to see. I wanted to rip my eyes out of my skull as to cease these images.

As I feel Draco urgently shake me awake, the last thing I hear is a bloodcurdling cackle, and my eyes are open.

It's still pitch black outside my bedroom window. I say my room, though it isn't my house, because it might as well be. Draco and Astoria bought a house with plenty of rooms, as to accommodate their bounty of children they had planned to have. However, fortune favours a chosen few, and nobody seemed to want to answer poor Astoria's prayers. This left two rooms too many, and they remained barren. Scorpius had his, and I was the new owner of the room once belonging to the baby who never came.

Looking up at Draco, I was at a loss of breath, and every time I blinked, I was plagued by the sight of the children's bodies, over and over.

"Merlin, are you alright?" he asked, caressing my cheek, and finding my face sticky with beads of sweat. "You've been screaming 'Bloody Murder' for the past five minutes."

Ragged breathing prevented an answer from spilling over my lips, however Draco knew what I was going to say. "It's the nightmares again," he sighed, a grave expression casting over his face. "I wish there was something we could do."

"Sleeping draughts don't work, Io's herbal concessions don't work, counting sheep doesn't work," I list, absentmindedly. "It's been sixteen years and nothing has bloody worked, I've accepted that. Please Draco, when are you going to accept it too?"

Draco gave me a fatherly sort of smile that sometimes reminds me that he is indeed a lot older than me, and he has done a damn sight better job of raising me than my own father has. "I can't help it if I hate seeing you in distress. I remember when you were just a baby, and the nightmares would wake you, and prevent you from ever closing your eyes again. Now, it's a Hercules task in itself to try and wake you."

"I'm only making up for lost time. Is it time to get ready yet?" I ask, wiping the sleep from my eyes, willing with all my might that he'd say no.

He shakes his head, and gets up off of my bed, whilst I silently thank the early hours, over and over. I notice that he too is still clad in his pyjamas. "No, we've got a few hours yet. Come, you can sleep in my room until we have to get up," he suggests, extending a hand for me.

I beam up at him. "Just like when I was little."

"Exactly. I'd ask Scorpius to join us, but I'm afraid he believes himself to be too grown up and mature to share a bed with his father and auntie."

I laugh, and gladly get up and follow Draco into his room. The curtains are still drawn, and the lights were turned off. I clambered into bed, and pulled the sheets up to my chin. The weight of the bed shifted as my brother joined me, and then silence ensued. It was nice, to be so peaceful after the night I'd had. The cotton seemed to soothe my boiling skin, and the cool air that leaked in through the window cleared my airwaves.

"Draco, why must I lie and say I'm your daughter?" I finally say.

"You what people think of father. Your reception at that school will be far better if you tell them I'm your father instead, and pretend to be Scorpius's sister. The name Malfoy tends to leave a sour taste in people's mouths, I find that father's gives them something to throw up."

"It doesn't make sense though. People aren't going to understand why it's taken me five years to attend Hogwarts, whereas Scorpius was accepted first try."

"I've thought about that. Professor McGonagall and the other teachers have agreed to stand by the story you were not permitted to attend, due to father's, and admittedly my own, convictions at the time, and the banning of all those affiliated with Death Eaters from school, meant that your name was crossed off the list. Fortunately, the Pardoned Generation Act passed by Kinglsey Shacklebolt in 2016, allowed Scorpius to attend. It's only now you're being acknowledged - by the school I mean."

"So I'm an afterthought?"

"Essentially you are, Cass. In their eyes anyway."

I mull this over in my mind, thinking about the reactions I received from people yesterday.

"They're not going to treat me much better at school are they," I ask in a quiet kind of voice.

Draco doesn't answer for a short while, and I know what he's going to say even before he opens his mouth.

"I'm sure you know that Scorpius struggled when he first got there," he told me, slowly. "I can't imagine that it'll be a breeze for you either. Don't let that put you off, though. Don't let it frighten you."

"Trust me Draco, I'm not frightened. Far from it, I'm excited if anything. I know how to handle the disapproving tuts and the snide comments."

Draco chuckled, bringing a grin to my face. "Oh I'm not worried about you, I'm worried for them. I pity the boy who pulls your pigtails."

"I can't promise anything," I explain, mischievously.

"I wouldn't expect anything less," he sighs, and then adds; "Don't feel as though you owe mother and father anything, Cass."

Furrowing my eyebrows, I ask what he means by that. It was rather an odd thing to say. Out of the blue too.

"Just because father has decided who you are to spend the remainder of your life with, does not mean you aren't free to choose yourself."

It's takes me a while to understand quite what he was trying to say, until it hits me like a tonne of bricks. I smirk. "What are you implying?" I can tell that it's quite uncomfortable for him to say what's weighing on his mind, but I force it out of him all the same.

"I saw how you were looking at James earlier," he mutters. "And I saw how he looked at you. All I'm saying is that you're going to be the new girl at school, and when the shock of your name is old news, they'll all have noticed that you're a beautiful girl, with many redeeming qualities."

"And you're suggesting I pursue those who pursue me?"

"Of course not. I'd rather you pursue nothing but your ambitions and education, but I am your older brother. It's my job to make sure boys aren't too close to you," he informs me, and I could hear the adoration in his voice. "However, if there's somebody who turns your head, you're not to be forgiven for forgetting about Rhys Selwyn."

"Is this your official approval of James?" I tease.

"I wouldn't call it that. But I will say this about him; if he's anything like his father, than he'll be too noble for his own good, and if he's like his mother, than he wouldn't have a bad bone in his body. If he's like them both, then I must say you're the only one I know able to match him."

I drift off with a beam plastered across my face without another word, Draco's words reverberating around my brain, making me feel ten times lighter.

When I next awake, I awake for good.

Pulling on the first things I could salvage, atop of the mountain of clothes I had somehow managed to squeeze inside of my trunk, I bound down the stairs, to see a half asleep Scorpius. He was shovelling corn flakes into his mouth, at a sloth-like pace, his head occasionally jilting, as his eyes drooped every now and then. I chuckled, and began to boil the kettle. The noise from the machine, as steam erupted out of the spout, was enough to jolt Scorpius back into reality, dropping his spoon into the milk with a clatter.

"Morning, sleepyhead," I tease, as I take the seat next to him.

He grimaces at my positivity, and rubs his eyes. "How is it you're so chirpy this morning? You're usually the moody one this early."

I shrug. "I think it's all the excitement. First day jitters, and all."

Scorpius snorts into his cereal, shaking his head with a sort of disbelief. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen anybody so happy to go to school."

Leaning close to him, with a beam spread across my cheeks, I whisper into his ear; "Hogwarts isn't just any old school though, is it?" I ruffle his hair, downing my mug of tea in one, and walk back into the kitchen to make myself some toast. I hear somebody walk through the doorway, and as I turn around, assuming it's Scorpius with his dirty bowl, I'm met with the sight of my brother holding a gorgeous, jet black cat, purring softly in his arms.

A beam instantly erupts onto my face, and I reach out to stroke and pet the animal. This cat, this velvety, magnificent creature, was like putty in my hands. He - I'm certain it's a he - began to rub his cheek against my palm, his whiskers delicately brushing against my skin. Draco handed him over to me, which took me a little by surprise, but I welcomed the cat into my arms all the same, holding him close as the silky pads of his paws roamed my torso. Standing on his hind legs, he rubbed his tiny little nose with mine, which made me laugh, and Draco.

"Where did you find him?" I asked, not wanting to tear my eyes away from the ball of fluff in my hands.

"At Magical Menagerie's yesterday," he replies, smirking. "He's yours. Scorpius and I thought it a good idea you take a pet with you to school."

"That way at least you know you'll have one friend there," Scorpius adds, slumping into the kitchen with half-shut eyes, dragging his feet behind him.

I pout at him, in a teasing sort of way. "Aw, and here I was hoping I'd have you to count on."

"I think what Scorpius meant to say is what are you naming him?"

I gaze thoughtfully at the cat, pondering on what I could possibly call him. One of my many flaws is that I can't make a decision, so when it comes to matters such as naming things, I'm a complete wreck, usually ending up with one name I rather like, and six separate middle names of ones I also rather liked. However, the touch of mischievousness in his metallic grey eyes, and the sheen of his inky black hair meant that there was only ever one name suitable for him. As he tried to jump free from my hands to salvage a biscuit from the jar on the table side, I smirked, knowing he'd fit it well.

"Well, he's got black hair, not white, so he must be a Black, and he seems a rebellious one doesn't he? So, I'm going to have to call him Padfoot."

Scorpius and Draco appear stunned, although it could just have been that Scorpius chose that moment to look out the window and witness sunlight for the first time that morning. Of course my choice of Padfoot, wasn't just any old choice pulled from the top of my brain, oh no. I picked it because of it's connotations with my late second cousin, Sirius Black, and the nickname he garnered whilst at school. Draco coughed, cottoning on immediately, though quickly covered his shocked expression with one of feigned support.

"Are you sure, Cass? I mean, mother and father won't like it."

"They don't like a great deal of things, Draco. They don't like the fact I'm going to Hogwarts, but that's not going to stop me."

Draco kissed the top of my head, and ruffled the fur of my new pet, Padfoot. "No, I didn't think it would."

After we had hauled Scorpius into the shower, who did not go quietly, as we could distinctly hear him grumbling up the stairs to himself, Draco suggested I begin to pack.

"Oh, I already have," I answer, turning may attention back to the cat now sat in my lap. "And I'm all dressed, all washed, brushed my teeth and fed. Just waiting on you two now. Or should I say misery-guts upstairs."

To say that Draco looked surprised was an understatement. He looked positively gobsmacked. He made a whole comical routine out of checking my temperature and my pulse, with an expression of the utmost concern sprawled across his face. "What have you done with my little sister?" he whispered, then when he couldn't hold it in any more, broke out into a large smile, which stretched from earlobe to earlobe.

It was comforting, to see him smile like this. It had been a long time until I'd seen him truly smile, and it was only when he was in the company of Astoria, or Scorpius. I was too young to understand the immense pressure that weighed on him, what effect the ink on his wrist had on him, after all these years. I'm told that it never disappears; the Dark Mark or the guilt. Even now the regret and pain can occasionally take ahold of him, and drags him back down. Sometimes it's too much for him, and he shuts himself away from the rest of us. Astoria was the only one who knew how to lift the burden from him, at least sharing half the load, so that he didn't feel quite so miserable. Now she's gone, and I knew that it meant Draco didn't only lose his wife and his best friend, but he'd lost his anchor.

I kiss him on the cheek, and ruffle his platinum hair, which matches mine, though admittedly I had the longer locks. He smirks, as he runs his bony fingers through his hair, in an attempt to sculpt them back into the neat style he had previously crafted. I look at him, and see the boy from the old school photos, not my forty year old brother. He was handsome then, and still is now, with sculpted cheekbones and captivating silver eyes. Mother tells me that once upon a time father looked just like this, striking and fine, and if you hold pictures of the pair next to each other, they could be mistaken as brothers. I personally couldn't imagine it. Father was a frail man, with waxy skin, lacklustre hair that had been grey for a while now, and cold, sullen eyes.

"Who do you think I look like?" I ask him, scratching behind Padfoot's ear, as gesture he seemed to appreciate immensely, purring generously.

Draco hesitates for a second, squinting slightly, as though he was taking into account that my prominent cheekbones, unruly locks - though mine were as fair as hers were dark, long eyelashes and salient jawline all resembled Aunt Bellatrix dreadfully, but couldn't quite say it aloud. He knew it grated on me when people would tell me that I was the spitting image of the 'great' Bellatrix Lestrange. He'd been the one to assure me when I was a young girl that I was indeed his sister, and the daughter of Narcissa Malfoy, and that Bellatrix couldn't possibly be my mother, as she had died six years previously.

"You're original, Cass, you don't look like anybody else."

I frown. "You're a terrible liar. I know who I look like," I sigh.

"You know I can't lie to you," he mutters, tucking a loose wave behind my ear. "You're classically elegant as all Black's are. I don't have that, Scorpius doesn't have that. We're Malfoy's through and through. You do though. But do you know who else had the waves, chiselled features and silver eyes? Sirius Black. What is it mother says? 'The vestige of aristocratic beauty is a natural attribute passed down through the Black bloodline'. You take after mother's side of the family. That means Andromeda, Sirius, and Bellatrix. That doesn't mean you can't be your own person."

He always knew what to say. Always.

The drive to the train station is filled with chatter. Scorpius has perked up a bit now, and he is eager to fill me in on everything about Hogwarts, from advice on which bed to pick in the dorm rooms, to which corridors to avoid due to the infamous poltergeist Peeves. However, there's one thing he's not saying that I'm itching to point out.

"Why did I never know you were best friends with Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's son?" I inquire, with a raised voice, and raised eyebrow.

Scorpius shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I didn't want grandma and grandad to find out."

"And you thought I'd tell them?"

He shrugs again. Merlin, when did he become such a teenager?

The talk begins to diminish as we edge closer to the city, and comes to a complete grounding halt when the spires to King's Cross Station becomes visible. Nobody wanted to say anything, in the belief we'd say the wrong thing. It was ridiculous really, as we'd be spending Halloween together, which was in less than two months.

Draco wants to push my trolley for him, but I insist on doing it myself, telling him that it's a huge milestone; pushing my own trolley as I take my first steps to school. He smiles, though it's partially forced, and gives me free reign. Padfoot is curled up, atop of my trunks, and watching the world zoom past him out of his wide, inquisitive grey eyes. It starts to become easier to spot who were other students from the school, as they too were hauling large carts brimming with school supplies and an assortment of weird and wonderful pets, from toads to snowy owls. Muggles passing by cast each of us odd glances, a gesture I was accustomed to by now.

The wizarding families who streamed in past us were eager to get as far away from us as possible. I could hear them whispering obscene things, referring to the shade of our hair. I watched as Draco, subconsciously, tugged at his jacket sleeve, as though he feared it would roll up any second now and reveal his scar in the shape of a skull and snake to the platforms of people.

We arrived on Platform Nine, and I checked the ticket in my hand. Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. How was that possible? I may be new to the outside world, but I was positive that this wasn't how train stations worked. I look over to both Draco and Scorpius, but the pair of them don't seem to appear at all confused or concerned with the ticket as I was. Instead, they turned their attention to a rather plain looking brick wall, and directed me over to it. Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked why we were staring at this empty wall, when a twelve year old and his mother disappeared into it. I shrieked, alerting a few of the other Muggles around us, and clapped a hand to my lips.

"What the bloody hell?" I hiss, blinking a few times over and over, afraid that they were playing tricks on me. However, as though to prive a point, another young witch runs in past me, and I flinch again. "You;re kidding? That's how we get in?"

Scorpius nods, enthusiastically. "It's amazing isn't it!"

I shake my head, out of disbelief. "You went into great lengths about the size of the pumpkins in the greenhouses, but forgot to mention that we had to dive head first into a bloody brick wall to get to school?"

My nephew snickers. "Yeah, it might have slipped my mind," he chuckles. "But if this is going to freak you out Cass, then you're in for a shock when you arrive at Hogwarts."

Something about his tone of voice told me that all those years spent locked away inside my tower, where I'd been teaching myself ancient spells, reassuring myself that I was a witch, hadn't prepared me for what being a witch actually entailed, beginning with literally running at walls.