Dear Mr. Malfoy,

I would like to meet with you on this Friday at noon, if your schedule permits. I wish to discuss a matter of some importance. Lunch will be provided. I await your owl confirming the time.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Draco inhaled the crisp February air as he made his way across the castle grounds to the main entrance on the day of his appointed meeting. He was curious as to the nature of the meeting. There was no indication that Grace was in any trouble. He was certain that Professor McGonagall would have mentioned such a thing, or summoned him immediately had that been the case. He looked up to see a group of students making their way towards the castle past the greenhouses. Although they had their cloaks pulled close against the cold, Draco was able to recognize Grace walking alongside Aamaal Shafiq. The eleven-year-old was slightly taller than most of the other Slytherin and Ravenclaw girls as well as a few of the boys. Her green leather gloves were clearly visible. A group of boys followed them, laughing and behaving raucously.

Draco was just about to raise his hand and call out, when he noticed a boy with a familiar, pug-like face raise his wand and point it at her. Draco whipped out his own wand, but Grace was quicker, spinning around and casting a shield to deflect his spell.

"Expelliarmus!" Draco snarled. He caught the boy's wand as he strode forth.

"Parkinson!" Neville bellowed, approaching the group from the nearest greenhouse.

"Father? What are you doing here?" Grace asked with surprise.

"Twenty points from Slytherin!" Neville declared.

"Well! Young Granville, I presume," Draco said coldly. "It's been quite some time. Since when do we attack our own housemates?" Granville gave Draco a disdainful look and pursed his lips. Draco returned his gaze, his lips curling into his trademark sneer.

"Mr. Parkinson, if you know anything about the Malfoy family—as I am certain that you do—you would do well to remember that we adhere strictly to the pureblood code of honour. Attacking a lady—tsk tsk. That is a most grievous insult! While it is clear that Lady Grace is more than capable of defending herself, another such unprovoked attack upon your niece's sister, shall be considered a challenge to the house of Malfoy. I sincerely doubt that Silas is up to the task of facing me on the field of honour." He raised a brow. Granville continued to glare defiantly for a moment, before backing down with a scowl.

"Lord Salisbury," he nodded. Draco turned to Neville, handing him the boy's wand.

"Professor, do forgive me for usurping your authority. I shall leave it to you."

"Think nothing of it, Mr. Malfoy. Stop by my office if you have time, before you depart."

"Of course." Draco gave him a nod and turned to the girls with a smile. "Ladies, would you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you out of the cold?" He offered his arm, and Grace and Aamaal each set their hands in the crook of his elbows.

"What are you doing here, Father? Is everything alright at home?" she asked, anxiously.

"Of course, my Charis. The Headmistress summoned me for lunch and a meeting." He gave her a reassuring smile as they stepped into the Entrance Hall.

"Oh," she looked down at her feet as she removed her cloak. "Is this about my detention?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"See you in Charms, Aamaal?" she said to her friend.

"Sure. It's nice to see you again, Mr. Malfoy," said Aamaal.

"Miss Shafiq. Always a pleasure." Draco smiled, giving her a slight bow before turning his attention back to his daughter. "Well?"

"Granville attacked me because I hexed him before winter break." Grace looked up at him, sheepishly.

"And?"

"He's still smarting because I bested him in our dueling practical for Defense Against the Dark Arts." Draco closed his eyes and pinched his brow, remembering a similar experience, as she continued. "He insulted me and said that I was Death Eater scum that nobody wanted, and that I'd never be a real Malfoy. So, I hit him with a conjunctivitis curse. Professor Weasley assigned me detention for two weeks, which I was to serve after the holiday."

"I see."

"I'm sorry, Father." Grace toed at the stone floor. "I know I'm supposed to stay out of trouble ahead of the interview with Witch Weekly." Draco regarded her for a few seconds before he spoke.

"Mother and I do expect that you will present your best face for the press Grace." She nodded meekly. "That being said, I am most impressed by the fast response you had to Parkinson, my dear! I saw him point his wand, and I'd barely managed to draw my own before you'd cast your shield!" he smiled and gave her a wink. She shrugged sheepishly in response.

"He was taunting me as we walked up the path. I—I looked into his thoughts, and was about to embarrass him when I realized he was about to hex me."

"You demonstrated cunning and acted in the interest of self-preservation. How very Slytherin!" he gave her a hug.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy! Thank you so much for coming!" Professor McGonagall swept into the Entrance Hall, followed by Harry Potter.

"Potter." He nodded at Harry.

"Malfoy." They shook hands and Harry smiled at Grace. "Hello, Grace."

"Uncle Harry!" she gave him a hug.

"Shall we?" Professor McGonagall led them into the Great Hall.

Lunch was a pleasant affair. A few first-year students dared to approach and request autographs when they entered, and to their surprised excitement, Draco and Harry politely obliged them. The two wizards chatted amiably with the staff, while attempting to tune out the obvious pointing and whispering of the students in the Hall. The proud father delightedly showed off photos, but Draco and Harry both started, going for their wands, when a flashbulb went off in their faces. Minerva gave the bold student a disapproving look that sent him scurrying back to the security of his friends, who waited by the door. Draco chanced a glance over to the Slytherin table where he saw Grace roll her eyes.

"Perhaps inviting a Quidditch star and The Boy Who Lived to dine publicly was not the wisest idea," she said.

"It's quite alright, Headmistress. Do forgive my inappropriate reaction," said Draco.

"Mine too," said Harry. "Although Moody always said 'constant vigilance'."

"I must admit, Headmistress, I am more than a bit curious as to the reason for your invitation. My first thought was that Grace's behavior might have come into question, but I can't imagine why that would necessitate a conference with Potter. Is it an issue of security?"

"Oh, no! Grace is no more or less mischievous than any other student. She's perfectly fine—and safe. If you gentlemen would like to accompany me to my office, I'm happy to discuss everything with you both."

Once they were seated around a small table in the Headmistress' office with light desserts, she clasped her hands and leaned forward.

"As you may know, Elphias Doge passed away just before Twelfth Night," she said. Harry nodded.

"Yes. Plans are underway for his funeral, I understand."

"I'm sorry. With the babies, I've not had much time to spare for reading the Prophet. That is most unfortunate news," said Draco.

"It is," said McGonagall. "As such, his death now leaves us with two seats available on the Board of Governors.

"Naturally, they are keen for Potter to assume one of those positions, I would presume," said Draco.

"Naturally." She turned to Harry. "I know that many organizations have approached you since the war, asking you to put your name to their cause, Harry. I understand your reluctance to accept, but I was rather hoping that Hogwarts might be a more special case. You are one of a few people who truly understand the importance of keeping the school as an inclusive institution of learning that challenges students to think openly and support one another. Since the end of the war, with so many orphans, this place has become the most familiar home many students know at all. Please consider it."

Harry toyed with the clasp of his robes for a moment before speaking.

"Does the Board understand that I have my own opinions, and that I expect them to be heard and seriously considered? I'm not a poster boy or a Ministry lackey, Minerva. If I accept this seat, I will take the position seriously and expect to be treated as such."

"Does that mean that you accept?" she asked.

"I'd like to talk it over with Ginny first, but I'm almost certain that she'll urge me to say 'yes', so I'll accept."

"Excellent! Now, Draco—"

"You aren't seriously about to suggest that the Board wants me to fill the other seat?" he said.

"Actually, Draco, the Malfoy seat has been vacant since Lucius' rather unceremonious resignation from the Board in 1993. It was my idea to ask if you would like to resume it."

"And the other Governors are in agreement on this?" Draco asked. "As Harry is concerned with being taken seriously, I myself have had quite enough of the mistrust and animosity attached to the Malfoy name. I do not intend to come into this with the same ideals as Lucius, and I expect to be granted the benefit of the doubt."

"Draco, you are the father of a current student, and you have four future Hogwarts students, whose well-being I am confident that you would place above your personal ambitions. I have seen the manner in which you and Harry have come together for the good of your business interests, and the philanthropic contributions that you have made to Hogwarts cannot be overlooked. I am concerned with the good of Hogwarts School and its future. I believe that the two of you are the best candidates to round out the Board of Governors. You are young. You both have first-hand knowledge of the war and the way it has affected the school. Whether you like it or not, you both wield a great deal of influence upon public opinion. I've discussed this with the Minister, and he agrees."

Draco lifted his eyes and looked over the Headmistress' shoulder, where his gaze landed upon the portrait of Severus Snape. His former mentor gave him a look of exasperation as he crossed his arms and nodded toward McGonagall.

"Alright then. I accept."

"Wonderful! I'll inform the minister and the rest of the Board. You shall receive an owl with all of the pertinent information that you will require within the next week. Thank you, gentlemen."

They made their farewells. Harry stepped into the fireplace to floo back to the Ministry. Draco left the Headmistress' office carrying presents from her for the babies. He shrank the parcels and placed them into his pocket as he headed back towards the Grand Staircase. He passed it and continued down the corridor until he reached a door featuring the herald of Gryffindor House. Draco rapped twice and the door swung open.

"You may enter."

He stepped in, and the door closed behind him with a soft click. Neville sat in a comfortable chair beside the fire.

"It's good to see you, my friend. Come, sit."

Draco neatly laid aside his cloak and took the facing chair. He looked at Neville, giving him a serene smile.

"You look well. Glad to get away from the Manor awhile?" Neville asked.

"On the contrary, I feel as though I may miss something. I'm certain Épiphanie is glad to be rid of me for a bit, especially with preparing for the Witch Weekly interview coming up. She says I'm hovering too much. The nanny we hired is working out very well though.

"Yes, I did see her at the girls' birthday. She was very attentive. What's she like?" Neville asked.

"She's a squib, actually."

"A squib? Hm. That's interesting."

"Well, she had quite a CV, and Épiphanie was very taken by her. Apparently she's been trained by the most prestigious muggle organization in Britain."

"Oh, she's a Norland Nanny!" Neville exclaimed. "Their nannies are in service to the Royal Family and many of the finest families in the nation."

"How do you know about them?"

"I actually took Muggle Studies. It's a required N.E.W.T. for all applicants to teach at Hogwarts."

"Ah. Of course you did."

"So, a nanny and an exclusive interview with Witch Weekly; I do hope Épiphanie is faring well?" Neville asked.

"Oh, you know Épiphanie. She's burning the candle at both ends, what with insisting on being an active mother and her rigorous training regimen. She's got such a drive to win—to get back on top—getting up at the crack of dawn to nurse the girls, then running, weights, flying drills—and all this before team scrimmage! Even with the nanny, she uses every practice break to check on them. She's so attuned to them. I don't know if it is because she is a legilimens, but she's turning to them before they can barely get out a whimper, and she knows instinctively just what they need. Her singing, Neville—it's so amazing! She sings in French, in Spanish, in so many African tongues, and Caribbean lilts, so softly and tenderly, the lullabies are magic in themselves!" Draco exclaimed.

"I shouldn't be surprised. She is incredibly talented and empathetic. It is perhaps why you were blessed with three."

"You think so?" Draco asked.

"Why so vexed, Draco? You've worked diligently to restore true honor to the name Malfoy. Celebrate your accomplishments, my friend." He leaned forward and touched Draco's knee.

"I'm twenty-six years old, with five children," Draco said with a hint of wonder in his voice.

"And a number of highly successful businesses, a fine home, an expansive vault, and the most beautiful wife a man could wish to have…at his feet."

"You do have a point," Draco replied. He smiled vaguely.

"So what is this anxiety? You look restless." At that statement, Draco gave Neville a measured look. "Ah, yes, of course. How long has it been?"

"Let's just say far too long. Before, I think she took some measure of pity on me, entering my thoughts as I slept and providing me with some nocturnal bliss. But recently she gives me these derisive little smirks each time I head for the shower." Draco grimaced. "But how can I be selfish? She's borne my children after all—three of them at once—and she's managed to care for them all while continuing to fly in top form for the club!"

"I don't know if it's selfish to be in need of release, Draco. It's human nature."

"How do you manage, Neville, being so far from Hannah? Do you not wish she was here with you all the time?"

"Hannah and I are free to floo to one another when our schedules permit. It takes a bit of creativity, but we manage to make the best use of our time together. Your situation is different, my friend. It is temporary. This too shall pass."

Draco raked a hand through his hair. "You are correct." He stood. "In the meantime—"

"In the meantime," Neville rose to his feet. "Perhaps I could be of some assistance."

"How so?" Draco looked at him, nonplussed. Neville stepped closer.

"I know it's been some time, Draco, but I haven't forgotten." He fixed him with a measured gaze and placed his hand on his shoulder, his thumb idly stroking the side of his neck just beneath his jaw.

Draco's breath hitched as he remembered that day when they shared a kiss. The mere thought of it made his lips tingle, and he'd occasionally wondered what it would be like to do it again, perhaps taking things further.

"Perhaps we could be of some mutual benefit to one another," Neville whispered as he shifted his grip, curling his fingers around the back of Draco's neck and drawing him closer.

Draco's pulse was racing. He closed his eyes, remembering the very first time Neville had ever touched him.

…The Gryffindor ran his hands lightly over the pale, sinewy skin of the Slytherin's back. He wrapped his arms around Draco, resting his chin on his shoulder, and traced over the long scars on his chest from the curse that had been inflicted upon him by another Gryffindor who had ultimately gifted him with mercy.

"Please!" Draco choked out. His lip quivered. He could feel the jumper, worn soft over time, and the neat creases that made up the pleats in Neville's trousers against his bare skin…

They were so close. Draco hesitantly reached out to Neville, placing his hands on the other wizard's waist.

"No blindfolds…no restraints," Neville whispered. Draco rocked his hips forward, letting out a sigh when he felt the evidence of Neville's want, and another memory flashed to the fore.

….Her tight muscles clenched around both shafts as they slid against one another, separated by the thinnest veil of flesh inside her. They were easily sated and before long, she was teeming with hot cum…

"Can you handle that?" Neville asked. He dropped his free hand to Draco's waist and pulled their bodies together, placing small kisses along his neck. Draco shuddered, exhaling slowly.

"I—" he couldn't think straight as his body responded to Neville's attentions. "I've never—have—" he stammered.

"No, I haven't." Neville kissed along Draco's jaw, eliciting a soft moan. Their lips met, and Draco tightened his grip on Neville's waist, moving one hand to his ass and rutting against him as they kissed hungrily. Neville responded in kind, their erections straining through their trousers.

They shuffled to the couch and fell onto it. Neville continued to grind his hips against Draco's as he summoned his wand and cast a privacy charm. He flicked his wand again and they were naked. Draco clung to him desperately, his hands in Neville's hair as he kissed his neck. He lifted his hips to meet the Gryffindor's. Draco heard Neville murmur something unintelligible and a second later, felt Neville's slick hand close around his cock, gripping it tightly.

"Merlin!" he gasped as Neville began to stroke him. "Oh, fuck!" He pushed against Neville's chest until he sat back and straddled his legs, then he grabbed Neville's dick, sliding his hands up and down his pulsing shaft. Neville closed his eyes and rocked his hips against Draco's thrusting into his grip. He whispered the lubrication charm again and Draco felt his own hand become slick. He tightened his grip and matched Neville's rhythm, biting his lip as he looked up at him through his lashes. Neville's lips curled into a mischievous grin.

Instigosempra!

Draco's prostate quivered and he arched his back, letting out a stuttering moan. As Neville went to drop his wand, Draco grabbed it with a malevolent glare.

Instigosempra!

"Ohhhh, fuck!" Neville moaned. He leaned forward, gripping Draco's shoulder, and digging his nails in.

"Two can play that game!" Draco hissed through gritted teeth. "Fucking Merlin!" He felt himself reaching the edge and lengthened the strokes over Neville's prick, alternating his fingers as he slid them over his long shaft while he thrust his hips upwards in Neville's grip.

"Shit! Godric, Merlin and Morganna!" Neville swore. He stiffened and spilled over Draco's hand. Seconds later, he felt Draco do the same, and he collapsed on top of him, reaching down to touch his wand. "Finite Incantatem!"

The only sound in the room for several minutes was the crackling of the fire and their breathless panting as they lay catching their breath. Finally, Neville sat up and licked his fingers.

"Fuck, Longbottom, I always knew you were a slut!" Draco exclaimed, watching him in surprise. Neville shrugged.

"Course I am." He picked up his wand and cast a cleaning spell before reaching for his clothes. Draco summoned his and did the same. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I erm—I suppose. It was just a rub-off anyway." Draco stepped into his trousers.

"Well, I considered a proper shag, but I didn't know if you would want that, or if you could handle it." Neville buttoned his shirt.

"I thought you'd never—" Draco looked at him, hesitating, his hand stretched out for his waistcoat.

"I haven't—at least not with a bloke." Neville pulled on his trousers and returned to his chair by the fire, sitting back to watch Draco finish dressing.

"Hannah?" Draco asked, finally picking up his waistcoat and shrugging it on. He sat down to pull on his boots. Neville nodded. "Will you tell her about this?" he asked.

"Most likely. There are few secrets between us. What about Épiphanie?" Neville asked.

"I suppose I'll have to. I don't think I've ever lied to her—not successfully. I couldn't if I wanted to. Keeping secrets from a legilimens is dangerous. I learned that years ago."

Neville let out a mirthless chuckle. "I remember. It's probably best you do tell her. I still live too close to the Black Lake to have her angry with me again." He glanced at the hookah on the mantelpiece.

Draco tightened the laces of his boot and stood. Neville did the same. He summoned Draco's cloak and helped him into it. They stood, hands in pockets for several minutes.

"Thank you, Neville. For this—for everything. You've been a good and faithful friend, in spite of our past." He extended his hand, but Neville embraced him instead, placing a soft peck on his cheek.

"There is no need, my friend. Every day that we open our eyes is a second chance. Why waste it denying someone else the opportunity to make it right? That's no way to honor the gift we've been given."

They made their farewells and Draco left the castle. When he reached Hogsmeade, he stopped into Dominic Maestro's Music Shop for a closer look at a music box displayed in the window. The instrument featured a round case with ornate carvings and an ivory crank handle. The top of the box featured five small witches holding ribbons attached to a maypole. The shopkeeper cranked the box and the girls began to dance around the pole to the delicate music.

"I'll take it," he said. "This one too," he added, pointing to another music box which featured a couple waltzing together. The shopkeeper offered to send the items by owl, but he declined, casting an extension charm on the pocket of his cloak and placing them inside.

Draco left the shop and prepared to apparate, when he noticed something near the platform at Hogsmeade Station. He walked up the street, and realized as he came closer that it was a statue. He was unprepared for the sight of what the statue represented as he approached and read the plaque on the base.

This monument is dedicated

to the memory of

Philomène Legendre

And

Lucas Prewett

They courageously sacrificed all

in defense of wizardkind

September 6, 1971

He stared up at the remarkably accurate bronze sculpture that featured him as Prewett, stirring a cauldron, while Épiphanie, as Legendre was depicted with wand hand outstretched in a dueling stance, her robes flourished in suspended animation. Harry and Ginny were the only ones they'd ever told of their adventures in time a few years earlier. It had to have been placed recently, as he'd have remembered it while attending Hogwarts, and he had no doubt that it would have been destroyed during the Death Eater occupation. He wondered if Grace had seen the monument. She wasn't yet eligble for Hogsmeade weekends, but the statue was clearly visible from the train platform where students boarded the Express. Did she not recognize them? If Professor McGonagall and Neville had not mentioned it, their disguises must have been more convincing than he'd ever thought.

He walked around the statue, looking up at the figures as he recalled the night that they'd faced down the younger Voldemort and faked the deaths of the Hogwarts teachers they were impersonating. As he traced his fingers over the inscription, he could still see the dark mark in the sky above them as they lay at the edge of the lake. His reverie was interrupted by a disturbance. He looked up to see a number of people near the newsstand talking loudly and pointing in his direction. Despite the Malfoys' prewar notoriety, over the last few years, Draco had become more famous as a Quidditch player. Although the entire wizarding world knew his wife, he still found himself occasionally besieged by witches with designs upon becoming the naughty little secret of Wiltshire Dragons Seeker. He pulled up the hood of his cloak and disapparated.