September 2018

Hermione was woken suddenly as a body collided with hers, forcing her conscious. "Muuuummmy!" came a muffled call from beneath the blankets that the body had buried itself in, and from behind her she could hear Draco's groan.

"Go back to bed, love!" he said, pulling the blankets over his face.

"Daddy," came Lyra's voice, as she pushed herself onto her knees out of the blankets, her hands on her hips, "I wasn't talking to you."

Hermione really did try to best to bury the snicker she couldn't stop into the pillow, but by the way Draco flicked at her shoulder she knew he had heard. Sighing, she pushed herself up from the bed, pulling her daughter into her arms.

"Lyra Helen, what have we told you about that attitude?" she asked, seriously. Lyra huffed back.

"Drop it," she replied in a soft monotone. "But muuuum, Al said that because he goes to school today, I won't see him until I go. He said he has to stay there during holidays and all summer, and I told him that Hogwart's: A History says that students are permitted to leave during Christmas and Easter holidays and that everyone goes home in the summer -"

"I can't believe you gave her that book to read," came Draco's muffled groan from beneath the blanket. "I can't believe she can read that book."

"But he says that my edition is old and ever since -"

"You're brother is a little shite," came Draco's clearer voice as he lifted the blankets away.

"Draco!"

"Yes, but Albus said -"

"Albus Potter is a little shite too."

"Draco!"

Sighing, Draco pushed himself to sit up, looking at Hermione with amused eyes. He turned his attention to Lyra, who had now curled into her mother's arms. "Lyra, love, the thing is Alphard and Albus are boys. And boys are mean - especially to girls they like, or little sisters."

Lyra listened to what Draco said thoughtfully, "Is that why you were so mean to mummy when you were kids?"

Draco frowned. "Who told you that?" It wasn't that he would deny the fact that they had been - well, less than friendly with each other when they were younger, but he didn't necessarily want his children knowing that.

"Mummy told me," his daughter said with a sweet smile, cuddling up to said woman. "She told me you were mean, and she had to bop you right in the nose one time."

Draco could feel his cheeks flushing. "'Bop me on the nose?' Is that what she told you? Bloody witch broke it!" he huffed, "Pomfrey had to re-break it and put me on Skele-gro three times to get it to set right."

"Maybe you shouldn't have been so vain," Hermione said smugly, and then when Draco flushed further, "You're lucky you were a Slytherin. Scarlet's really not your colour, my dear."

With a glare in her direction, Draco turned to look at the clock that was on her bedside table.

"Lyra, love, it's four in the morning. Now is not the time to worry about such things, you should be asleep." Huffing, Lyra unwrapped herself from her mother's arms, crawling out of the bed.

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, listening to make sure that they heard Lyra's bedroom door shut down the hall. Once they had heard the quiet click, they began settling into bed, adjusting the blankets and pillows around themselves.

"I still can't believe you gave her that damn book to read," Draco said, sighing.

"Well the shite you were giving her wasn't challenging enough! There is only so much a child can read about hopping pots and cackling stumps before they start to plateau."

"'Mione. She's eight."

"Exactly. When I was eight my parents had already cultivated an academic interest in me; it is certainly one thing that I find frustrating as a witch and parent, having been raised in a muggle family. Muggle children go to school at such a younger age than in the magical community - and as a parent if I want to start building an education for them any earlier, well, I have to homeschool, because how can you send your child into a muggle school when at any given moment they could bust all the windows in the classroom, or set their desk on fire, or -"

Hermione was cut off mid-sentence as Draco pressed his lips against those of the ranting witch, her words trailing off into a groan of surprise. Draco pulled away slightly, smirking at her. "You know I love when you all flustered and passionate about anything, love, but as I told our daughter, four in the morning is not the time."

He gave her one last quick but hard kiss on the lips, before burying his nose into her hair. "You'll deal with all that when you're Minister for Magic. For now, it is four o'clock in the fucking morning, and you're taking your firstborn to meet the Hogwart's Express in six hours. Go to sleep."

Hermione slowly closed her eyes, a small smile passing over her lips. As she started to drift into the realm of dreams, she could have sworn she heard Draco mumble against her hair, "Bloody Granger women. It's a miracle I've not landed myself in the madhouse."

.oOo.

A/N: Okay, yes, it has been far, far, FAR too long since I have been able to update this. I could give you the whole crazy explanation (which I honestly have a really have a hard time believing has actually happened in my life myself, nevermind what all you would think if I did tell,) but let's just leave it at this: my work, temporarily but not quite temporarily enough, was forced to affect far too much of my life. In the mean time, I want to thank any one who has stuck around long enough for the updates again, and thank you deeply for all your support and the like. As always, feel free to fine me on tumblr, persephone-andhades.