"What's your favorite color? How'd you get your hair so light? Do you know how to play the piano? I know how to play the piano. Have you ever been to Kenilworth? Do you know The Sick Note? A guy drops bricks on himself. Wouldn't that hurt? It's my favorite song. Dad sang it to me. Do you have a favorite song? Does your dad sing? No. Never mind. Mum said I shouldn't talk to you about your dad. I can talk to you about my dad, though. Did you know he's your godfather? That means he's like your uncle. I don't have any uncles. Mum said if Sofia or Ellie ever had a baby I would be its uncle."

"Let him be, Bast," Hermione said gently, tying her robe tightly around her waist. Malfoy looked more unkempt than she'd ever seen him, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he hadn't slept a wink. From the smell of him, he was likely hungover in addition to exhausted. "You'll have plenty of time to question him when he wakes up properly."

"Mum—" Bast started to whine, but Sofia cut him off, jumping up from where she'd been crouched with Ellie, watching Malfoy where he sat.

"I want to knock for breakfast!"

"It's my turn," Bast insisted.

"I will do it," Hermione said, cutting the argument off before it got going. Two quick raps of her knuckles on the table called for breakfast from the elves, and the order was quickly filled. Fruit and warm toast, a steaming pot of tea, eggs and bacon and sausage links.

"Do I have a godfather, Mum?" Bast asked, settling into his chair and handing Sofia a piece of toast.

"You have a namesake," Hermione said.

"Uncle Hagrid," Bast said, grinning around a mouthful of cubed watermelon. He knew enough to chew and swallow before he spoke (with some indirect reinforcement lately listening to her chastise Ron about it). He turned to Malfoy, eyebrows raised. "Do you know Hagrid?"

"… Yes?"

"I'm named after him. I'm his namesake, like Dad's your godfather."

"Oh."

"Uh-huh. He's neat. He showed me this worm-looking thing the other day. It was cool."

"It was gross," Sofia put in. Sebastian ignored her.

"And he had the world's biggest spider for a pet."

"Named it Aragog," Ellie said, nodding wisely before most of her face disappeared behind her goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Right, Aragog. He had a picture from when Aragog was just a baby. He was the size of a dog."

Malfoy looked at Hermione helplessly, utterly stymied in the face of the chatterbox children. She almost smirked at him—her lips definitely twitched. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Malfoy. She felt bad for him; he'd had a crap situation these last few years, just like the rest of them. What bothered her was their early history. He'd been the first person to call her a Mudblood, after all.

Now he was just a teenager with nobody else to help him. Just Severus. And, because he had Severus, her. Sort of.

It was an even stranger situation than her friendship with Harry and Ron these days.

"What are you up to today, Bast?" Hermione asked, distracting her son from the acromantula. (She'd decided not to worry about the things Hagrid told Bast or showed him; she'd made it clear there would be no magical creatures coming to live with them in the Governors' suite, and she just hoped that would be that.)

"Slugs!"

"Pumpkins," Sofia corrected.

"There's slugs on Mr. Hagrid's pumpkins," Ellie clarified.

"I see," Hermione said, nodding sagely.


Severus walked out of his bedroom and into one of the oddest breakfasts he'd ever exerienced.

Bast and Sofia seemed to be arging for the sheer joy of hearing their own voices. Elaine chimed in once and again, usually to clarify points of the argument for her mother. Hermione was eating her breakfast, nodding along and quite obviously trying not to laugh. Draco looked like hell, and Severus walking out of the bedroom in his usual sleep pants and dressing gown didn't appear to help stabilize his mental fortitude.

"G'morning, Dad!" the children chimed as one, seamlessly diving back into their conversation.

"Morning," Hermione said more sedately, smirking at him over the rim of her mug in a very self-satisfied sort of way. He liked that smirk.

"How long have they been at it?"

"Not long."

I think they're showing off for Draco.

He smirked at her thought, helping himself to the eggs and toast.

Breakfast passed quickly. In no time, the children had dressed and were clamoring to get down to Hagrid's, breakfast had been cleared away, and Draco was chasing his Sober-Up with a hot cup of tea.

"Snapes!" a familiar voice called through the door, quickly followed by the sound of a palm smacking the wood. "I know you're in there! Open up!"

"Who…?" Hermione said, turning to look at him. He didn't fail to notice the way she'd shifted so that she was between the children and the door. Or the way the twins had taken up a position on either side of Bast, not quite touching but close. Draco had gone very still on the sofa, his hand too-casually draped across his lap within easy snatching distance of the pocket where he kept his wand.

"It's Hooch," Severus muttered, and the tension in the room decreased by half. He opened the door just as she was bringing her hand back for another thump.

"Sna—Oh, there you are. Up, then?"

He glowered at her, but the effect was probably significantly lessened by the nearly-fluffly green dressing gown, his morning stubble, and Sofia standing at his hip. She was a quick little thing. She'd gone from one end of the room next to Bast to holding his hand in the doorway in the time it had taken him to open the door.

"Obviously," he said when she didn't seem to be able to proceed without an answer.

"Right. Quidditch! They finished the repairs to the stadium yesterday. The last thing on the list. So today we're having a game."

Sofia squeeled and wrenched on his hand. "Can we go, Dad?" When he didn't answer fast enough, she tilted her head all the way back and stared up at him with huge, inky black eyes. "Please?"

How had his parents ever refused him anything when he had those exact same eyes?

"Of course—"

"Brilliant!" Hooch said before he could finish. "I'm claiming the both of you right now. Now I just need another Beater."

"Both of whom?" Hermione asked from behind him.

"Mum doesn't play Quidditch," Bast said, laughing.

"Of course not," Hooch said, looking through the doorway and straight at Draco, whose eyebrows shot up. "I've got Malfoy for my Seeker. Severus, here, to fill out my Chasers. Unless you want to be a Beater?"

"Not particularly?"

"It's settled then. Game's at eleven!"

"I don't even have a broom," Severus said, but she was already gone. He looked at Draco.

"Did she just… She wants me to play?"


All questions of pumpkins and slugs were entirely forgotten. Quidditch was the topic of the morning. The twins followed Severus around, asking about the last time he'd played, the last time he'd flown a broom, if he'd been any good. They only lost interest when Malfoy left the bathroom an old Slytherin practice sweater, turning their questions to him.

By quarter to eleven, even Bast was looking forward to the game. Severus and Malfoy had made a quick trip to the Malfoy house in London to retrieve broomsticks—not the most current models, but neither of them were willing to go to Malfoy Manor for those—and Severus had promised all three children a circuit of the stadium on the broom with him before the game.

It seemed that everybody in the castle had turned out for the game. Hermione wasn't surprised; it was a beautiful day, a cool breeze making the hot sunshine wonderful instead of scorching. They congregated on the pitch near the door to the steps of the staff box, watching the players stretch, listened to them heckle each other.

Her eyes followed Severus. He'd put on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, but he'd rolled the sleeves up. And he'd tied his hair back into a knob at the back of his head. And he hadn't shaved.

She had half a mind to insist somebody fill his place, stick the kids with Hagrid, and drag her husband back to their suite for the afternoon.

Instead, she kissed him soundly "for luck" when he brought Bast, the last of the riders, back, and herded them up into the box with the rest of the watchers.

The teams were an odd mix of people she remembered from school, a few faces from Order meetings, people she'd never expected to see again, and entirely new faces. Harry was the Seeker for one team, with Ron as his Keeper, Fred and George as Beaters, and Angelina Johnson (dating Fred, apparently), Professor Sinistra and Astoria Greengrass (a fifth year Slytherin) as Chasers. Malfoy was the opposing Seeker, with Oliver Wood (resident of Hogsmeade these days, operating the broomstick and Quidditch shop) as Keeper, Hooch and Emmaline Vance as Beaters, and Severus, Ginny and Arlo Vector (Professor Vector's brother) as Chasers.

"It's King's Rules, everybody," Hooch announced, her voice easily carrying up to the stands. Sofia and Ellie exchanged a look and sat forward, identical grins on their faces. "No referee. No wands."

The balls shot into the air, even the Quaffle. For a moment, Hermione couldn't see a thing. It was a wonder nobody collided in the mess of people as all the Chasers went after the single Quaffle, and Keepers' bats glinted in the sun.

"YES!" Sofia shouted, standing up. "Go, go!"

Severus had the Quaffle, dropping below the main pod of players. He shot off, Ginny following his movement from above. And then Professor Sinistra looped around and shot straight for him on a collision course. Hermione was sure it was a feint; luckily Severus knew what King's Rules meant. He passed the ball to Ginny and swung a barrel-roll at the last minute. Sinistra shot past, cackling gleefully the whole way. The cackle was quickly drowned out when Ginny began shouting at Fred, who had nearly unseated her with a Bludger.

King's Rules, apparently, meant it was a free-for-all. Nearly no rules, absolutely no enforcement. Ron blocked a shot on goal with his face after two Chasers entered the scoring area near the hoops (which had an official Quidditch name that she couldn't remember) and he spat out a tooth; nobody seemed to care. Emmaline Vance, who had always seemed very prim, used her elbows quite a lot. Fred and George had decided that their sister was their target and sent a Bludger her way whenever they could. The twins kept up a constant litany of every foul committed, every rule broken.

Luna had begun the game a spectator, sitting there sweetly holding hands with Neville, but within a half an hour somebody had convinced her to sit in the commentor's box and dictate the game. Or perhaps she'd chosen to do it herself. It was hard to tell with Luna. She sporadically ducked her head so that her enormous lion hat could roar into the magical microphone, pausing game-play on more than one occasion when the players stopped to look for the source of the noise. (Severus took advantage of one such distraction and scored a goal.)

It was possibly the most entertaining game of Quidditch she'd ever watched, and that included the World Cup. Severus and Sinistra seemed to have some sort of old rivalry. Whenever Astoria Greengrass got the Quaffle, her sister screamed encouragement and instruction from the stands (the sisters had stayed at Hogwarts following the Battle, at first because Daphne was recovering from a wall collapsing on her when she was helping a group of first-years to the Room of Requirement, and then because their father was in Ministry holding awaiting his trial). Xenophilius Lovegood was giving commentary on his daughter's commentary to Madam Rosmerta from the village, and she didn't seem to know if she wanted him to shut up or not. Madam Pince was out of the library and shouting her lungs out; she didn't seem to care for the game so much as encouraging the Beaters of both teams to knock somebody off their brooms already.

Two hours in, the twins started talking about Snitchnipping. They were sure Wood had hidden away the Snitch, hoping to give his team time to get a bigger lead.

"Because Uncle Harry's going to get it, obviously," Sofia explained. Hermione wondered when he'd become 'Uncle Harry'—she'd noticed that happening a lot. It was 'Granny Minerva' and 'Auntie Poppy' and 'Uncle Hagrid' and now 'Uncle Harry.' "He's quicker."

Bast had long lost interest in the game. He'd situated himself by Andromeda Tonks and Teddy Luipin, though. Andromeda held the baby on her lap while she watched the game, and Bast amused both himself and the Metamorphmagus, tickling and cooing, and then giggling like mad when Teddy rearranged his features or changed his hair color.

Harry did catch the Snitch, at long last. It was past four in the afternoon. Minerva had long since called for refreshments in the box and—after a dramatic neck-and-neck race for the Snitch that ended up with both Seekers crashing into the base of the Hufflepuff stands, a brief scuffle on the grass, and Harry stumbling away with the Snitch and a bleeding lip—the players descended on the spread with relish.

Severus swept her up in a sweaty hug accompanied by a sloppy kiss. One of the Weasley twins cat-called, and Severus caught him with Levicorpus and let him dangle out over the pitch while he gave her a chaste peck on the cheek, then the same for each of his children. The girls giggled madly.

Eventually, the party spilled out onto the pitch again. Others had joined—Bill and Fleur after they finished work, and the same for Arthur and Molly when Arthur left the Ministry. Mr. Ollivander appeared enthralled by whatever conversation he was having with the Lovegoods. A small contingent of Slytherins—the Greengrass sisters, Blaise Zabini—stood together shooting curious looks at Severus. Neville's grandmother and Professor Slughorn seemed to have some history—not the amusing, flirty sort of history but the buried hatchet that zombifies and crawls out again at the most inopportune moments sort of history—and Flitwick, Sprout and Neville were all desperately trying to make them behave.

The evening ended with enough of Fred and George's fireworks that Aurors arrived to make sure everything was alright. The three Ministry wizards stayed to watch, and Hermione couldn't decide if she was glad to see one of them talking to Harry or not. She wouldn't be surprised if they wanted to recruit him.

Her musing—would it be a good thing for Harry to jump right into the Aurory?—was interrupted by Bill and Fleur announcing their first pregnancy. In the swarming of congratulations and smiles that followed, Hermione found herself pressed to Severus's chest. He smelled the way he had in Australia after they'd spent the day in the garden together—warm, healthy man with and undertone of man-sweat.

"I want one," she told him, not realizing she'd said it out loud until she felt him laugh.

"I will brew the antidote to the contraceptive tomorrow," he promised.

"You don't think it's too soon?"

"Too soon?"

"Too soon after the war. Too soon after everything. We don't even have a place to live, yet."

"We have too many places to live."

"Nothing is settled."

"We managed just fine with Bast."

Hermione laughed, and he pulled away so that he could see her face. She looked up, still smiling. "I was the one who got us started on this conversation, and all of a sudden you're the one convincing me it's a good idea."

"It's a very good idea."

"What do you think the children will think?"

"They'll think it's fairly normal. We're about to have a baby boom, I think. It happened after the last time."

She pulled him down for a kiss. They had a nice, shadowed spot by the stands and most people were distracted by the fireworks and their conversations. It was like they had all the time in the world.

\\

"This has always been a speciality of Hooch's," Severus said. The party—and it had definitely turned into a party—was going strong around them. "She grabs you and makes you do one thing, and then she turns it into something completely different."

"I think the Weasley twins had more to do with this than Hooch did," Hermione said.

"Oh, she planned it. She knew from the moment she got everybody out here for Quidditch—"

"We'd end up with a massive bonfire on her just-repaired pitch? She seemed pretty alarmed when they lit the thing."

He grumbled something unintelligible and she tucked herself into his side again. They had a good spot, far enough from the fire that it wasn't so hot but near enough that everything around them flickered red and orange. The twins were sprawled nearby on a conjured blanket, sound asleep despite the noise. Bast was closer to the fire with Ron, lighting Weasley Wonder-Works, small fireworks that spat along the grass shooting off colorful sparks and whistling dischordantly.

"Harry and Ginny have been gone for awhile," she observed.

"Well, this is likely the first time her mother hasn't been hovering over them."

Hermione smiled, which broadened when Harry and Ginny reappeared seconds later, both of them flushed (though the firelight made it difficult to spot) and looking rather pleased with themselves. They were holding hands.

"It's sweet," she said.

"Sweet?" Severus said, almost mocking. "Do you know how many students I've had to break up from under the stands over the years? It's disgusting—not the couples, the location. Grimy, smelly…"

"I wouldn't know."

"Are you implying you're nostalgic for some clichéd tryst—"

"Hell no. I'm too old for that shit. You can just take me to bed like a proper husband when we get home."

"Yes, dear."