A.N.: Me again! This chapter will definitely be shorter than the last; mostly because I keep having coughing fits that are tearing my throat apart! It feels like there's a plum lodged in my throat! [By the way; if you haven't noticed this already, when I'm ill I complain. A lot. To anyone!] This chapter is brought to you by I-Don't-Have-To-Go-To-Work-Tomorrow; for the best in excuses not to go to work, see Hannah!!!! {Even if they're real excuses, they're excuses nonetheless!}

Phaedra fiddled with delicate Art Nouveau antique necklace William had given her for her birthday; its blood-red garnets complimented the red tulle following the hemline and bust of her delicate floral robes [If you type in Vintage Textile and hit gallery, go to Edwardian, the gown is from 1905 and I'm obsessed with it] and the trim of the embroidered panel down the front. Expecting to out tonight, she had swept her hair up with several blood-red roses from her rose-garden, but now she was so agitated she hadn't wanted to leave the house. She sighed heavily and let the necklace drop, put the embroidery she had been working on in her little work-basket and stood up, brushing down the skirt of her gown, and stalked out of her little sitting-room.

I can't see anything from in here, she thought, shooting an accusatory glare at the windows that gave her a view only of her walled-gardens and the vibrant lawn that stretched to them. William's view is better; her husband's working study—the room she rarely entered because it was so dark and dreary, and besides that William's secret haven away from her when he wanted a mope—was right off the main hallway with brocade-hung windows looking out to the left onto the front-steps. She went straight to the first window and moved aside the gauzy sheers that protected the furniture from the noonday sun in summertime, and checked the front lawn.

"What are you doing?" William asked sharply. He was sitting at his grand desk, building a doll's house from scratch—modelled after their very own home. Whenever something with work—or with her—got to him too much, and he knew he was going to regret being so stressful later, he turned to making models. Teddy's nursery had been packed with them; during her second pregnancy she had not been the most accommodating lady.

"What are you building a doll's house for?" Phaedra retorted, not wanting to admit that she was spying. Or trying to, considering her sixteen-year-old daughter still had not returned from her date with Draco Malfoy.

"Don't change the subject—and it's for Hermione's room. I realised the other day that there is no doll's house in her bedroom, and I'd like her to have it because every little girl has a doll's house," William remarked, focusing on papering the wall of what was to become a fully-working kitchen. The doll's house was larger than Princess Mary's in Windsor Castle!

"Darling, Hermione is sixteen years old; she won't be playing with a doll's house," Phaedra laughed.

"I know that, blossom," her husband said easily, licking his lips and pushing his glasses up his nose. "But that room is so big and just think—when Draco knocks her up, Hermione's baby will love chewing on the furniture. You have to think of the future generations in these situations, darling." She had turned back to the window while William was talking; now she cricked her neck painfully glancing back over her shoulder. William smirked, giggled softly to himself, and tiled the floor of the kitchen.

"You talked to her, didn't you? About—?"

"I told her…boys only want two things," William said, poking his tongue out in concentration as he placed tiny miniatures of the paintings of the kitchen inside the little miniature kitchen. Phaedra frowned. Her father had told her boys only wanted one thing from her.

"Two?"

"Sex and food."

"Oh," she said softly. That makes sense, she thought, turning back to the window.

"Look at you!" William laughed softly. "You need a hobby, sweets. Why don't you try fixing that old writing-cabinet you love so much?"

"My darling," Phaedra sighed, pushing the curtain aside again and wrinkling her nose disappointedly, "I can only fix one thing at a time. And I'm still working on you."

"Somebody's in a mood this evening!"

"I'm worried. Stop nagging," Phaedra pouted.

"Phaedra, she's fine," William sighed soothingly. "Hermione's got a good head on her shoulders. She's not just going to jump him and have super happy fun time on her first date. There will be no fireworks for Draco Malfoy in his foreseeable future. Those two barely know each other."

"That didn't stop us," Phaedra smirked, glancing back at her husband. He looked up from the little parlour he was stocking with real shrunken wine-bottles he'd taken out of the second wine-cellar.

"Oh my god," William sighed heavily, sitting back on his haunches and shaking his head. "Suddenly I feel like digging up your father and apologising to him for ever having had sex with his daughter."

"Oh, that's alright, William," Phaedra sighed, turning back to the window. "It's enough that you've apologised to me." With a loud thwack William's large, strong hand landed on her backside and she jumped. He encompassed her in his strong arms and Phaedra giggled girlishly as he held her close.

"What was that?" he asked, playfully threatening. She grinned and kissed his lips, tugging on his lower-lip with her teeth, linking her arms around his neck. Her husband had never been old. He was packed with so much youthfulness and energy that most of the time she felt like the older one in the marriage. Most of the time William was less mature than Teddy. But Phaedra wouldn't have had him any other way. William's ability to have fun and make the most of any situation had attracted her from the very beginning. Their relationship couldn't have lasted as long as it had after the fiasco with Hermione if William hadn't been who he was. He knew how delicate she was before he married her, and he knew how to take care of her after it had happened. And when Teddy was born! She'd had to forcibly make him return to work because the attention he was giving her, and Teddy, had driven her almost insane. William sighed softly and pressed his forehead against hers.

"Well, what are you going to do?" he asked softly. "Your mother told you that you'd go straight to hell if you ever even touched a boy, and we both know that didn't work." Phaedra pouted, resting her cheek against William's chest. She didn't want to lose her baby girl so soon after she'd just found her again. And Draco Malfoy was stealing her away from them with those blonde haired-blue eyed good looks and cocky charm.

"He's only going to end up hurting her," she pouted darkly.

"By the look of the bruises on her neck the other night, I'd say she already has," William said tartly, with a smirk. Phaedra smacked her open palm against his chest.

"William please!"

"Honey; they're teenagers. They like kissing. And you know very well what would happen if you forbid them to see each other," William grinned, inching his lips closer to hers. Phaedra hummed a giggle, pressed against the window-casement, and looked through her lashes up at her husband. Her parents had locked her in her old bedroom and taken away her wand when she'd announced she was going out with William Nott. He'd flown in through her window and they'd been caught having sex in her old bed surrounded by the porcelain dolls and plush animals her daddy had given her all through her childhood. They had called William a 'cradle-snatcher' because she was so much younger; he'd called them 'Gomez and Morticia,' and not in a nice way.

"You're just annoyed that she's on a date and you don't know what's going on," William guessed softly.

"I'm not annoyed that she's on a date—I'm annoyed that she might like it and want to go on another one. She'll like him better than us and then we'll never see her," Phaedra said desperately. She couldn't lose her baby again—not to Draco Malfoy!

"Honey, she couldn't very well have sex with either of us nearby," William smirked. "Of course she wants to go out—I'm joking! Seeing your daughter dating should make you feel terror, not jealousy! Look, she'll go out, have a lot of junk-food, throw up and need someone to take care of her in case she's ill again. Happy?" The prospect of waiting hand-and-foot on her ill daughter did have a certain appeal to it.

"I'll be you she lets Draco take care of her," she snarled vindictively, staging several murders of that teenaged boy inside her head; the most effective was the blunt hedge-clippers. She wouldn't want him to go too quickly! "Where are they?" She turned back to the window, extremely indignant. It was past eleven o'clock and Hermione still wasn't home—she didn't even want to know if Teddy was home; his track-record showed she would not be walking into his bedroom in the late-hours ever again.

"Probably having sex in her bedroom," William remarked, and Phaedra elbowed him when he giggled.

"You know what, because you're so sensitive and understanding, when she has her heart broken, I'll send Hermione to you to sort out," she threatened. He chuckled softly and returned to his doll's house, knowing that should that opportunity arise, Phaedra would let no one else have that position of caring for her baby. She stood a little straighter, peered closer to the window, as the light from the hallway windows and the little lamps either side of the doors illuminated a young couple standing inches away from each other and nudging noses affectionately. They're home, she gasped internally, fighting with herself not to run off and snatch Hermione inside.

Phaedra knew happy children. And for as long as she had known Draco—which was all his life including his mother's pregnancy—he had not been one of them. He had never had any friends, cosseted by his parents who thought him too good for socialisation with children in such places as nursery-schools and play-groups, and when he started Hogwarts he just got more and more miserable until Phaedra had voiced her concerns to Narcissa about the poor boy's mental health. He and Teddy were quite close, and Teddy didn't have very many friends of his own, and she didn't know what would have happened to Teddy if Draco had done something drastic. Now, however, he was smiling. She rarely saw him truly grin, except when he one-upped William at Monopoly. But he held onto Hermione's hand as she tried to walk away; she ended up threading her hands around his neck and—

"How long have you been spying?" William whispered in her ear, making her shiver.

"Sixteen years. I'm getting good, aren't I," she smirked.

"Come away from the window; they might see you," William whispered, trying to move her away. They can't see anything but each other, she thought wistfully. She rested her head against his chest, just watching the two. Hermione was blushing and smiling coquettishly; Draco was doing that smiling-thing again.

"He does seem a lot happier," she said to herself. Maybe being with Hermione is good for him, she thought. It wasn't as if she couldn't understand why Draco Malfoy would have wanted to go out on a date with her daughter for any reason other than her looks. They'd talked all evening at the Malfoys' dinner-party.

"I'll kill him," William growled, and Phaedra had to put all her weight in tugging on his arm, almost dragging her across the carpeted-floor, to keep him from going to murder Draco. She dragged him back to the window; Draco gave Hermione one last lingering kiss, her hand clasped loosely in his, before stepping back and smiling, letting her go. Well, that didn't end too badly, she thought.

"Quick!" She gasped and flung herself into the little fireside chair William had in his office just for her if she wanted to sit with him. William sighed and turned to his doll's house. They heard the front-door open and Hermione's happy laugh and a very demure goodnight, and Draco was walking down the lawn as soon as the front-door was closed behind her and he knew she was home safely. Phaedra waited a few minutes, glad Hermione thought they had probably gone to bed because it was so late and didn't come into the study, and stood up, reaching for the door.

"Are you coming to bed?" she asked William. He looked away from the doll's house and grinned rakishly, leaping at her.

As she opened the study door, the front-doors burst open with a low laugh and a blurted giggle, and the blonde girl—at least it's the same one—they'd seen the other night came backwards into the house, practically mauling Teddy's face as he slammed the front-doors behind him and grabbed her in his arms. The smell of cigarette-smoke and alcohol lingered on their clothing—however sparse hers was. William had the presence of mind—because Phaedra just stood there, stunned—to clear his throat pointedly, and the two stopped what they were doing. Teddy slid his eyes from the girl onto them, and Phaedra just stared. The girl gasped, hid a giggle behind her hand, and bit her lip as she glanced up at Teddy.

And then the silly tart had the audacity to grab her son, plaster a searing kiss on his lips, and whisper something in his ear before turning to the doors. Phaedra's jaw dropped, if possible, even further when Teddy twisted, showing them his back, following the girl's lips with his own as he shut the door behind her. His t-shirt showed tiny speckles—tiny, but noticeable, because the t-shirt was white—of something red. In short two-inch trails of three. Fingernails, she gasped hollowly. Teddy gave them one wide-eyed look and fled.

"You know, I do believe I will have The Talk with them," she said faintly.

"Be sure to tell Hermione to never trust boys, because we lie big time," William said. "And ask Ted…just who in the hell that girl was because she has incredible legs. Ask him where he picked her up!"

It made Phaedra shiver unpleasantly each time she tried to start the conversation in her mind; it would have been easier to talk to two daughters, or she could have let William handle Ted. But no; she had a son and daughter about the same age and they knew far too much than they should. It wasn't healthy for her that they were getting to 'that age' and wanting to experiment. She shivered again, shaking her head.

"Jesus! Teddy! What did you let Marilis do to you?" Hermione's voice rang down the corridor, sounding at once indignant and mirthful.

"The girl is a wild-cat," Teddy's reply came, with a groan. "How was your night?"

"It was really nice. Look what Draco gave me!" Phaedra practically ran down the corridor, bursting into Teddy's room, where the two siblings had congregated to discuss the important things in life; their dates. What did he give her? If it was another hickey, she would personally cut off Draco Malfoy's tongue. Among other things. Hermione had her hair held away from her throat—I'll kill him—but then Phaedra stopped, frowned bemusedly at her daughter, who was staring at her, and Phaedra suddenly wondered what she looked like to her children.

Hermione was showing off a very lovely pair of gold earrings; winged hearts glinted, swinging from hammered circles of gold. Wow! Jewellery on a first-date. That boy knows how to treat a lady right! She glanced from Hermione to Teddy and sighed heavily, closing the door softly behind her.

"Alright, listen…I know we've always let the birds and bees fly around this house…Sex," she sighed, running her hand over her face, cradling her elbow in her palm, and when she glanced through her fingers both her children had their foreheads in their hands, "is something that isn't going to be…good," she felt ill, "until you're…older."

"Mother," Teddy complained, looking as though he was in some intense form of pain.

"No; we've never really…I know your father spoke to you when you spent a lot of time in the bathroom when you were twelve, but we've never really…talked about sex before, and I think we should have that discussion now," Phaedra said, brushing her palms against each other nervously. Hermione had glanced at Teddy, her cheeks puffed out and her eyes glittering, trying her best not to laugh. Teddy sighed heavily, shooting his sister a dark look, and leaned forward, elbows on knees, expression gloomy.

"Alright; go ahead," Hermione sighed, as if signing her own death-warrant.

"Okay…" What am I supposed to say? "Well…if you were to, you know, do it now," Phaedra sighed, unable to look her daughter in the eye, and resorted to running her fingers over her face again, pinching the bridge of her nose, "you would have some pleasure in it," a nasty shiver went down her spine, "but it would be a lot better if—"

"What you're trying to say," Teddy sighed, taking charge, seeing as how Phaedra could barely even string a sentence together without shuddering, "is that Hermione is still far too young to have sex."

"Well—," Hermione spoke up, frowning at Teddy as if she disagreed, but Phaedra let her speak, "both our bodies and our minds have to reach a certain point of maturity." She shot Teddy a look that suggested there would definitely be a feminist movement in this house beginning before long. "And I wouldn't want to look back on my life and regret the decisions I've made—and I would have to love him, if I was to have sex with him."

"Yeah," Phaedra smiled, glad she didn't actually have to say those things out-loud, but a little irked that her children knew so much already without her ever having spoken to them. They're right; kids do grow up too fast, she thought, wondering just what else they were learning at that school where magic happened.

"And you'd have to respect him," Hermione added. "Or it's meaningless."

"And that—"

"I respected her," Teddy nodded.

"It's a beautiful, beautiful thing," Hermione added. Phaedra couldn't think of one single thing to say. No, that wasn't right.

"The bottom line is," she sighed, looking her children right in the eyes. "I love you. And I always want you to be able to talk to me." They both nodded sombrely.

"Love you too," they both told her, and she smiled and sighed as she stepped out of the bedroom. That wasn't too bad, she thought, thinking that she felt a little better for their talk.

Until the door closed and Hermione's rippling giggles and Teddy's deep, rumbling laugh echoed down the corridor.

"Oh my god!!" Hermione shrieked breathlessly.

"How pathetic," Teddy laughed brokenly.

A.N.: I had fun writing this chapter. With several references to Roseanne. Roseanne is LEGEND; she has much knowledge. Adieu, I hope you enjoyed!