Epilogue Part I: The Impossible Malfoy

1849

Dark magic leaves permanent traces. At least that is what Willa and Septimus came to believe after two decades of failed attempts at pregnancy. Willa knew it was her body that failed; Septimus had already produced two children after all. He argued it may not be her at all, for he had experienced just as much torture from dark curses from Lila as she had from Ardan. Lila had possessed them both, he reminded her. Surely it was his far older body that failed them, he told her. But Willa knew. Deep down she knew, it was her.

They exhausted every option over those long years. Quintus and Catherine, who had both become healers, brought all the latest techniques from St. Mungo's for them to try. When those all failed, Willa turned to Elnath. Her cousin had spent five years perfecting a potion for Rigel to produce an heir. It enabled the drinker to become pregnant without sexual intercourse and involved a complicated three-month long alchemy ritual and a sperm sample from the male. Willa and Septimus gave it three attempts, but none worked.

Elnath continued to pepper Willa with fertility potions, alchemy rituals, meditations, and magical herbal remedies until eventually Willa and Septimus decided that they were done trying. They decided they would be enough for each other and it would be fine.

And as Willa yelped in surprise on Christmas morning of 1849 when the youngest Blacks, Sirius and Phineas, swooshed by on their new toy brooms, she knew it had been fine. It had been more than fine most days in fact. Most days, life with Septimus was wonderful.

Vincent Malfoy, the only child of Quintus and Catherine, who had also gone on to become a healer, approached her in the sitting room and asked quietly, "Granny, would you care to join my mother in the front parlour for tea? She needed to get away for some peace of mind."

Willa glanced at Septimus, who at ninety-three years old was sleeping in the nearby chair, and asked Vincent, "Where are Licorus and Magenta?"

"In the family room with all their offspring and my wife and son. Aunt Octavia and Uncle Rigel are there as well. Ella went to lie down." he reported.

Rigel had taken advantage of Octavia's offer to marry when his family finally required him to settle down. Things with Clement had fizzled by 1796 and the Black-Malfoy wedding was an enormous, showy affair that Septimus assured Willa he would bankroll from the Malfoy vault alone. Two years later, Octavia gave birth to their son, Licorus, thanks to the ingenious potion Elnath invented. They had two daughters after Licorus and decided that was enough, as the alchemy ritual was exhausting. Their power marriage was wildly successful and the topic of envy by all society, though both privately took on several lovers throughout the course of it to see to their own needs.

Licorus went on to marry the social climber Magenta Tripe, whose pureblood fanaticism reflected a growing distrust of Muggles that was revived fully in the 1820s during Josephina Flint's time as Minister for Magic. Together they had three children, but one would never know this as Magenta estranged their eldest and only daughter from the family for marrying a Muggle. Septimus and Willa both had spoken to Rigel and Octavia, and then Licorus and Magenta, against this, but were overruled and informed they were "too old fashioned" to understand.

Licorus and Magenta's two sons, Cygnus and Arcturus, upheld the Black family name appropriately, and Cygnus had married the Max family's youngest daughter, Ella, seven years earlier. She was a few months pregnant with their third child, with Sirius and Phineas aged five and three respectively.

"Yes, I think I would like to spend time with your mother." Willa said to Vincent, marking her place in her book.

Before they went, Vincent checked Septimus' pulse subtly as he placed a blanket over him. Willa pretended not to notice. They both knew that time was coming any day now. Everyone knew. Septimus had been very ill all year. When he first collapsed back in February, he had told her in a fever state that he did not think he would last the year. In March, she began sleeping in the guest suite next to their master bedroom as Septimus could no longer control his bodily functions overnight. By April he was mostly bed-ridden, and she asked Bathilda to come during the weekdays to help her take care of him. In May, Braxton started coming with their sister, as it became obvious Willa needed a different type of help than she was asking for. She needed companionship.

Braxton had been gone most of their lives, elsewhere in Europe—mainly France—but when their parents fell ill a decade before he returned to England permanently. Though she had seen him for the past ten years off and on at family dinners and holidays, it had only been within the last six months that they truly began to rebuild their connection. By August he was staying late into the evening, well after Bathilda had gone home, regaling tales from his decades in France working for Le Sorcier or his adventures down to Africa, where he investigated the disappearance of well-known French witch only to find she had not disappeared at all, merely rearrange all her limbs accidentally.

Some nights, especially if they had too much firewhisky, Braxton would stay over in the west wing's guest room that Willa had Hobney keep made up. Occasionally their conversation would continue after she dropped him off on her way to her room in the east wing, one of them stating, "Just one more thing…" before rambling out another anecdote or pseudo-philosophical thought. The next day Willa would find herself waking up beside him fully dressed, both having fallen asleep mid-conversation.

On even rarer occasions, when the mixture of alcohol, sleepiness, and intimate eye contact was just right, they found themselves kissing passionately in his guest bed. It was second nature somehow, like casting a familiar spell or riding a broom. Those particular mornings she would wake in his arms and her heart would race and stomach flutter as her head pounded. She would stumble down the hallway to her bedroom and sleep off both the hangover and the shame. Never once did Braxton bring up what happened these nights, so Willa said nothing as well, and their new habit continued unaltered and undiscussed.

Like the rest of 1849, nothing about Christmas that year was normal either. Traditionally Willa and Septimus would visit the Black Manor for their fussy Christmas Eve party rather than host the full madness of the Black family at Malfoy Manor. There they would see Elnath and Grogan and their two daughters' families. On Christmas Day, Catherine and Vincent, and his wife and son, Eros, would come from London for an afternoon feast. Quintus used to come, of course, but he had succumbed to the same blood maledictus as Septimus' mother in March of 1829 just before his grandson Eros was born. The day after Christmas was reserved for the Bagshots. Willa and Septimus would head to Godric's Hollow for the most casual of all their gatherings, a tradition that continued even after Dipsas and Byron's deaths, with Bathilda and Braxton hosting. Bathilda refused to marry, knowing her fate of longevity, and Braxton too never had, his friendships and dalliances sufficient to him.

This year Septimus was too weak to travel, even by Floo, so everyone came to Malfoy Manor instead. Willa and Septimus both had come to terms with the fact he would die soon. His health had continued to slip as the year plodded on, and he looked much older than ninety-three.

Catherine and Vincent provided good company over tea in the front parlour, and the three lamented the fact that Octavia was so unlike them in spirit. She had at first privately supported Josephina's anti-Muggle ideals after finally rekindling their friendship their seventh year at Hogwarts. When Josephina ran for Minister to replace Grogan in 1819, however, Octavia had quite publicly supported her. This public backing was responsible for two private matters: confirming Magenta's decision to estrange her daughter and driving a wedge between Elnath and Rigel, as Josephina named him her Chief Advisor. The public consequences were even greater. The Blacks were such an adored and emulated couple, that their backing of Josephina—and consequently her anti-Muggle ideals—became fashionable. When Artemisia Lufkin passed away in 1825, it felt like the era of Muggle justice had come to close.

This anti-Muggle sentiment became so cemented in the magical community that Willa was unsure how to fight it. She felt Eros' fiancé, Marcy Bulstrode, was not a good influence, but made this opinion known once to Vincent and left it at that. Eros at age twenty already was far bolder and materialistic than his father, and she did not know if Vincent, with his demure personality, was equipped to handle such a force.

For Willa, navigating the animosity between Rigel and Elnath had been murky at best, especially given Rigel was her step-son-in-law but her personal values aligned much more with Grogan's campaign. After losing his reelection, Grogan continued in the Ministry, and Willa would joke that she saw more of him than Elnath since they worked together so often. Grogan joked the same could be said in reverse, as Elnath traveled quite often and for long periods of study all over the world as a result of her potioneering work. It was quite lucrative though, and she was the main provider for her family. As a result of the distance, Bathilda had replaced Elnath as Willa's main confidant in time.

December 27th finally arrived and with it total peace and quiet. Even the house elves were too plumb tuckered out to do anything but nap and laze about. Willa told them sternly they had better rest all day and not work a lick except to feed the animals, and they had smiled gratefully and disappeared beneath the manor into their quarters.

"You know, I actually might be bored." Septimus said with a chuckle from his chair in the family room.

"How is it possible your brain can still function today?" Willa balked. Though she was pleased his energy seemed much higher than usual.

"Oh, I think it was not entirely there for the last few days." he grinned.

"Lucky you." Willa said.

"I had a thought, though maybe you are not up for it…"

"Tell me."

"Do you remember that potion Elnath gifted you years ago?" he said, a smile dancing on his lips.

"The age reversal one?" Willa asked.

"That very one."

"What are you thinking, mister?" Willa pursed her lips, perking up some.

"You know what I am thinking." He teased.

Willa opened her mouth to protest but found her smile too large to do so. Instead she stood and helped Septimus to his feet.

"I am up for it if you are, old man." She said.

"One last time." Septimus said, elbowing her in the ribs lightly.

"Watch it now, or you will injure me. I am seventy-four after all." She teased, guiding him up the stairs to the master bedroom.

She found the potion in her dresser and went to the bed where Septimus had already lay down.

"Before we take it, we should undress. Remember last time?" Willa said.

Septimus laughed and started to unbutton his shirt. Last time they had ripped their favorite outfits when their bodies changed. Willa smiled as she unfastened her dress and soon they were naked.

"All right, what age do you want?" she asked him.

"Something different than we have ever done. I want you to be older than me." He said, his pale blue eyes flashing in a way they had not for some time.

"How much older?"

"Oh, how about nineteen years?" He smiled.

The potion did not work that way. It worked in five-year segments. "Now you administer one drop to shave off five years. So, do not be overzealous with it or else you will take so many years off you will be unborn." Elnath had cautioned as she gave Willa the highly modified shrinking potion fifteen or so years ago. "I created it for Grogan and me to use for intimate enjoyment, but truly you can use it for whatever you would like. One hour of youth to do with whatever you please."

"All right, open your mouth." Willa instructed. She planned to go only ten years older than him, as twenty did not seem as fun for her.

Septimus obeyed and she counted in her head as she administered single drops of the potion onto his tongue. It would be fourteen for him. Around eleven or twelve she realized in a panic that she had lost track of her count. Three more. Yes, it should be three more.

She administered eight drops to herself and they waited for their bodies to shudder into their younger forms. They learned the first time they tried it over a decade ago that the process was only painful going the opposite direction.

When they came to their new bodies, Willa let out a shocked gasp.

"What is it?" Septimus asked, his voice now steady and smooth.

"You are not twenty-three. Or else you looked exceptionally young at twenty-three." Willa said taking in his lanky muscles that she had never known.

"What do you mean?" Septimus asked, leaping from the bed to look in the mirror. The energy of his younger age came with the body as a result of the potion.

There was a long pause before he uttered, "Merlin, I must be eighteen. How many drops did you give me?!"

"I lost count." Willa admitted.

Septimus began to laugh and returned to the bed. In all their times using the potion, he had never been younger than thirty.

"Well, this certainly is a turn of events. Now you will know what it is like to be over thirty and with someone still in their teens." He said, almost gleeful.

"Except you are in your nineties, even if you look and feel eighteen." Willa pointed out.

"Mmhmm, sure." Septimus said, pulling her thirty-four-year-old body in for a kiss. "Whatever you need to tell yourself."

"Need I remind you that you are the one who actually had sex with a seventeen-year-old?" Willa said, pulling his body over hers as she lay back on the mattress.

"You enjoyed it." Septimus purred against her ear. He gave her earlobe a nibble and whispered, "Every single time, if I recall correctly."

Willa moaned lustfully at his words and his teeth's sharp, pleasurable pain.

Septimus kissed her neck down to her collarbone, continuing over her breasts where he spent a considerable amount of time given their one-hour limit, until finally he moved to her genitalia. He knew her body like his own by now and she was quick to orgasm despite how long it had been since they were last intimate.

He wasted no time to reposition himself over her wet opening. She gritted against his size as he pushed into her, but soon they were into their familiar rhythm and she could feel him pleasurably again, not just how stretched he made her feel. It was in that moment of change Willa realized this would probably be the last time they ever had sex. Septimus' eyes were closed, his face one of total pleasure, and Willa blinked back tears as she moved her hips to meet his. He moaned as she did, and she pulled on his shoulders so he would lean down to her level.

"Kiss me." She said.

He obliged, sloppily at first until they slowed enough for him to be disciplined about it. Their lips moved in soft waves, familiar and intimate at once, and their bodies began to follow in kind. A lifetime of lovemaking taking control of them until it was too fervent to stay calm. Septimus called her name loudly against the pillow as he orgasmed inside her. Her vaginal muscles tightened around him, her own body finishing moments after. They lay there, him inside her still, until the potion wore off. It was painful when it did, the only true side effect, and they both winced against it as they shifted back into their aged selves.

Afterwards, Septimus could not stay awake. She dressed and went down to the kitchens to eat, listening to Hobney complain about the Blacks while he tinkered about, too stubborn at his age to truly take a day off, even when commanded.

New Year's Eve that year was as basic as it comes. Willa, Septimus and two small glasses of champagne to clink as they sat in their bed watching the clock on the mantlepiece strike midnight. When the hour came, though, Septimus' body shook too violently to hold the glass or even meet it to his lips with Willa's help.

Willa smiled at him, setting their champagne aside as she said, "It is only a silly tradition anyway."

The fireplace glowed a bright orange, as Septimus needed all the warmth he could get these days, and Willa tucked the blankets tighter around him. She kissed him on the forehead, sliding off the bed to head to her room, and he grabbed her arm weakly.

"Willa?" Septimus said, his voice shuddered.

"Yes?"

"Stay with me tonight." he said.

Willa saw the fear in his eyes and cupped a hand around his face.

"Of course," she said.

"I think this is it for me." he said softly.

"Tonight?" Willa asked.

He nodded, his pale face lit by the glow of the fire, and Willa slid fully into the bed and moved close to him.

"I need you to promise me something." he said.

"What is it?"

"Promise that you will not be alone. I had Quintus and Octavia and you. I was never alone. I know we could not have children and I worry about you. Surround yourself with love."

Willa's thoughts immediately went to Braxton and she felt the heat of guilt rise up her neck to her face.

He ran a trembling hand over her torso and said coarsely, "Promise me."

"I promise." Willa said with sincerity.

She burrowed into his chest as tears began to fall freely from her eyes, and Septimus kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you for such a wonderful life." He murmured into her silver hair.

They held one another until they fell asleep.

Some hours later, Willa woke in a jolt and found Septimus still and with no heartbeat. She called for Hobney and he went to fetch Vincent from Grosvenor Square as the clock on the mantelpiece of the master bedroom struck a quiet three chimes.

1850

Starting the new year without Septimus was somehow less traumatic than Willa prepared for it to be. Catherine, Bathilda and Braxton all stayed at the manor with her so she would not be alone. The grandchildren and their children all came to pay their respects, though thankfully not all at once like on Christmas. The noise of everyone was enough of a wail and buzz to keep the focus ever moving.

Octavia diligently planned the funeral and the entire wizarding community seemed to attend. There were faces Willa had not seen in some time: Vincent Saint-Just, the Lestranges, and the Grindelwalds. Braxton greeted all of them with familiarity, a large chunk of his life having been spent living with Vincent in the Malfoy hôtel particulier while working for the Lestranges and another spent summering with the Grindelwalds at Schloss Nurmengard which Hildegard had inherited from her relatives.

Both Bagshots stayed on at Malfoy Manor following the funeral to help boost Willa's spirits. Bathilda left after a fortnight as it became clear Braxton had things under control. After tea the first full day she was gone, Braxton declared his desire to play duets on the piano.

"I have not played in ages." Willa admitted.

"Nor have I. It is difficult now with the joint pain in my wrists, but I think I feel up to it." Braxton smiled, leading the familiar way to the music room.

They settled onto the piano stool, lifting the piano lid, which had been fairly recently dusted for the wake. Braxton spread his fingers across the keys and grimaced at the pain.

"You know, I have this elixir from Elnath that reverses your age for an hour. She gave it to me as a gift years ago, and Septimus and I only used it a few times, so I still have plenty." Willa offered.

"Really? Where did she get that?"

"She created it." Willa laughed. "She implied she and Grogan use it for sex. But it would help with the joint pain, at least for an hour."

Braxton laughed and shrugged, "All right, why not?"

Willa used a Summoning charm to bring it down to them and explained how the drops worked.

"You should take some as well." Braxton grinned. "I cannot imagine you lack joint pain either by now. Besides, it will be more fun for us both to be young again together."

"It is fun. I can definitely attest to that." Willa said brightly. "What age are you thinking?"

"Hmm… I quite enjoyed my mid-twenties. What about you?"

"Same for me. That is what I usually preferred the other times I have used it." Willa admitted.

"Twenty-three then. Well, twenty-four in your case." Braxton said, a hint of mischief now glittered in his eyes.

"Open your mouth." Willa commanded, suctioning some potion into the dropper.

She administered ten drops to him and then did the same to herself before placing the potion on the piano's sheet music holder.

"What happens?" Braxton asked when nothing immediately changed.

"It takes a moment, but you sort of shudder into the new age. It is not painful going this way." Willa explained.

A few minutes passed, Braxton playing a short tune on the piano as they waited, and then both felt their bodies stretching tighter and firming up. Braxton laughed and played faster, marveling at his hands before glancing at Willa as she blurted out, "Oh."

She was staring at him with flushed cheeks as if he had just thoroughly embarrassed her.

"What?" he asked.

"I forgot…I forgot how attractive you were then." She admitted with a scrunched face of apology.

Braxton pursed his now perfectly taut pink lips, "Oh really?" he cocked an eyebrow as he slid closer to her. "Well I never forgot."

"How beautiful you are?" Willa smirked.

Braxton ran his fingers through her now shining auburn hair.

"No, how beautiful you are." he said.

Willa's brain stopped racing. She did not feel any sadness or grief or guilt. It was as if he stripped her bare with just one touch.

"Brax," she breathed out. The word held everything that had been rebuilding between them since he had shown up in May. Braxton kissed her lips in response and she eagerly returned it.

They lost themselves in their passion for a few moments before Willa pulled away, her forehead pressed to his.

"I want you. Is that all right?" she asked.

"Yes. More than all right." Braxton replied.

Willa began to undress, and he put a hand on hers to halt her.

"Here?" he asked.

"Why not? No one is in the house except us." Willa said with wide, honest eyes.

Braxton laughed, "All right then!"

They soon were naked, standing beside the piano bench and staring at each other and themselves.

"Oh, I miss these abdomens being so on display." Braxton remarked of his body.

"They certainly flaunt themselves." Willa laughed as she ran her hand over them.

"Well, your own pertness does call one to grip onto it." Braxton said. His hands went separately to her breast and buttocks, and Willa let out a noise of pleasure.

He found her lips again and her hand moved downwards from his abdomen muscles until he let out his own moan.

They did not speak, communicating in touches and kisses and pleasured utterances until they were on the music room's floor. Willa straddled Braxton's torso, smiling down at him.

"Are we doing this?" she asked.

He ran his hands over her hips, "If you want to, I want to."

"I want to." Willa said.

Braxton grinned and lifted her body up. Willa positioned him to enter her, then lowered herself over him. Any concerns of old, horrible memories from Hogwarts or guilt over Septimus or the question of whether or not their actions were incestual were thwarted as she felt entirely present in the moment.

Braxton appeared to be fully present as well as he smiled and thrust into her. She let out another moan, deeper this time. He felt good, comfortable. They were equally sized, fashioned for each other. She felt whole with him inside of her, but not full, not stretched. She briefly wondered what their lives might have been if she had agreed to marry him in her youth.

"Come here." Braxton said as he pulled her torso down parallel to his. "Are you all right?"

She gazed into his eyes, their blue depths staring back into her with genuine concern. Even if the two of them looked and felt twenty-four, they were fifty years older than that. It was written all over both of their worried expressions.

"I love you, Brax. As more than a brother. I think I always have, despite it all." Willa admitted.

Braxton warmed, "I love you, too. I always have. That is why I left for Durmstrang, for Paris. Why I did not return until I had to."

"I know." Willa said softly.

Braxton pulled her against his lips, kissing her comfortingly. Willa began to move her hips again, sheathing his erection over and over inside her. After some time, she felt herself reaching a climax.

"You are nearly there, I can tell." Braxton whispered.

Willa nodded, shuddering with pleasure as he rocked against her. They continued in this rhythm until Willa came to orgasm.

"Brax!" she screamed in ecstasy.

"Shh!" he laughed, worried a concerned house elf might pop in.

"Brax!" she screamed again shamelessly into her house.

Her body finally calmed, and she leaned down to kiss him. Their tongues found each other in a heated exchange as Braxton continued to thrust into her. His breathing hitched and he pulled from her lips to let out a breathy moan. She met his pace with her hips until he was moaning loudly into the music room's air.

Their eyes met after he caught his breath and they fell into blissful laughter in the golden afternoon light.

"How much time is left in our hour?" he asked.

"I have no idea, but I do not think I am up for another round after that." Willa teased.

"No, no," he laughed. "I just wondered what more we could do."

"We could relocate to a bed…"

"Let's go to my room. Come on." Braxton said quickly as he sat up.

Willa stood, some of his semen dripping out of her as she did, and they laughed again. They scooped up their clothing and held hands to apparate together to his west wing guestroom.

They discarded the clothing on the closest chair and Braxton pulled the blankets down the mattress so they could climb in. They found each other in an embrace and said nothing as they lay there. Willa felt blissful. She did not want any of it to end and squeezed Braxton tighter against herself as if to capture the moment forever.

Seventeen minutes was all they had left. Their bodies shuddered again, painfully this time, until they were back to their actual ages.

"Are you all right?" Willa asked him.

"Yes, a bit uncomfortable when it happened, but I'm better now. You?"

He was looking into her and Willa could barely perceive a difference in his eyes. Her heartbeat raced as their frail, loose-skinned bodies pressed together in the afternoon light.

"Yes, I am marvelous." She said in earnest.

"Marvelous, huh?" he grinned.

Willa blushed and Braxton kissed her. They stayed naked in bed together until dinnertime approached.

To the outside world they remained close step-siblings, but from that day forth, the pair carried on their romance without shame in the privacy of the manor.

Three weeks later, Willa fell ill. She felt weak and unsettled, vomiting frequently. At first they blamed it on the food, but when Braxton remained without any symptoms they realized something else was amiss.

They sent an owl to the London townhome and Vincent came. He took over as her healer once Quintus fell ill and had been her healer for nearly thirty years. Willa trusted his opinion above anyone else's. Catherine accompanied her son, as the request was written with some urgency and in Braxton's handwriting. In her years as a healer, she found it commonplace for husbands and wives to pass soon after their spouse, and if Willa found herself too ill to write, it was cause for concern.

"How long have you been feeling this way?" Vincent asked Willa. She was in a pale state, lying in her bed.

"A fortnight, I think. Is that right?" Willa said, looking at Braxton who sat in the chair beside the bed.

"Yes, thirteen days. At first we thought it was food illness, but we have been eating the same things." Braxton explained.

Vincent nodded and Catherine took Willa's hand, feeling her fear that she was dying. Fear of death was not usual in the spouses who died shortly after their partners, so Catherine became more anxious that Willa was indeed quite ill.

"Let me do a full assessment and then I can make a better diagnostic. Is that all right, Granny?" Vincent asked.

"Yes, please." Willa smiled weakly at him.

Vincent set to work assessing all of Willa's vitals and taking her blood for analysis with his wand. It was more advanced than anything Willa had seen. After only thirty minutes, Vincent's expression changed from focused work to confused concern.

"What is it?" Catherine asked her son.

"Well, it is impossible, I'm afraid." He said, looking Willa in the eye as he spoke, his voice mingled with hesitation and excitement at once.

"Tell us." Braxton urged impatiently.

Vincent glanced awkwardly at Braxton before turning back to Willa.

"Granny, could you, er, could you be pregnant?" he asked in a high voice, unnatural for his usual baritone.

"What do you mean? My last blood was a decade ago." Willa said with alarm. She threw a look at Braxton who squeezed her hand to convey his emotions.

"Only that you are pregnant, Granny. There is no other explanation of your symptoms and body composition." Vincent stammered.

Willa stared at her grandson, "You are certain?"

"I tested for it in my assessment, and, well, it has come back positive in spite of the impossibility."

"When was the child conceived?" Willa asked.

"I could not give an exact date, but within the last two months certainly. Around Christmas at the earliest." Vincent replied as matter-of-factly as he could.

Willa looked at the ceiling trying to recall the warnings Elnath gave her years ago she first gifted her the age reversal potion. From the date range, there was no way to know for certain if was Septimus' or Braxton's child, but perhaps Elnath could provide clearer information on her potion.

"Send for Elnath Stump. This is rather impossible." Willa said with authority.

"Yes, ma'am." Vincent nodded, standing.

Elnath came quickly and Willa threw everyone out of the room.

"Not you." She said to Braxton, who sat back down.

Once they three were alone, Elnath sat on her bed and put a maternal hand to Willa's forehead.

"Vincent says I am pregnant." Willa started. Vincent had not explained this in his owl to Elnath.

Elnath pulled her hand back in shock and Willa cast praeligo.

"Septimus and I took that potion you gave me years ago back in December." Willa explained.

"The age reversal one? You only just took that?"

"We had used it before. But just after Christmas, on the 27th, we did again. It still works, but could it be spoiled somehow?" Willa said. Braxton shifted uneasily in his chair. This was not information Willa had previously shared.

"No, it would not spoil." Elnath said. She took her cousin's hand, "I do not understand though. We determined you and Septimus could not have children decades ago."

"So, it is possible for me to be pregnant even though my age for that is past?"

Elnath glanced at Braxton, whom she felt should not be privy to such a conversation, but found her opinion change upon seeing his expression. Clearly the step-siblings were closer now than she remembered them being years ago. Braxton looked extremely worried. Elnath smiled reassuringly at him and looked back to Willa.

"Well, apparently it is. Grogan and I always use a Vanishing spell out of habit. I suppose you did not?"

"No, I did not." Willa said tightly.

"Hang on a moment…" Elnath's face was contemplative, her mind far away from the room. "How far back did you and Septimus go? What ages?"

Willa told her.

"Eighteen?!"

"It was an accident. I gave him one drop too many."

"Yes, but he was yet to father Quintus and Octavia at eighteen. He was still able to have children. Your theory must be right." Elnath said with excitement.

"Your theory?" Braxton asked.

"That Lila's possession caused us to be sterile." Willa explained.

"But then wouldn't you and I be sterile as well?" he pointed out.

"But Willa clearly is not." Elnath exclaimed, squeezing her cousin's hand.

"I am not either." Braxton said quietly.

"What?" Willa asked.

"I fathered a child once with a girl in France. The baby was stillborn." He said.

"I'm so sorry, I never knew." Willa reached for him.

"I never told anyone." He said. Looking at Willa he added, "It was lifetimes ago."

She nodded and a silence Elnath felt distinctly excluded from followed. She looked out the window to let it pass. A cardinal perched proudly on a barren branch, its red feathers brazen against the muted grey of late winter.

"It must have been when she stabbed him. They were mortally fatal wounds he used magic to heal. It was how she possessed him later, a gateway to death, I suppose." Willa said, reclaiming Elnath's attention.

"If both of you can have children, then it must be so." Elnath said. She then smiled broadly, "Which means, you will finally be a mum!"

Willa grinned wide, tears forming and spilling onto her cheeks. She had given this dream up so long ago, it did not seem real.

"I will help you along. We should not use the potion again until necessary." Elnath said, her tone practical.

"Necessary?" Braxton asked, alarmed.

"Oh," Elnath grew somber. "I do not think Willa's body can survive labor at this age. So, I will make her younger for that part."

"Will it harm the baby?" Braxton asked.

"Honestly?" Elnath asked.

"Yes!" Braxton urged.

"I do not know. It is unknown magic, much like when you gave Bathilda the Elixir of Life." Elnath said harshly.

"That turned out well." Willa interrupted. "I am sure this will too, between Vincent's care, Elnath's knowledge, and your support."

Braxton worried his lower lip but agreed.

Willa knew what he was thinking. What she had not told Elnath. What neither of them would ever tell anyone. Even though it was impossible to know with certainty, as the events all unfolded within the same month of time, the baby was probably his.

They discussed it much later that night. Well after Vincent and Elnath established a care plan. After Catherine congratulated Willa. After Hobney swelled with pride at the news, buzzing around the manor to make sure everything was as clean and comfortable as possible.

They lay in bed together, Braxton's hand gently on her belly.

"Eros and Cygnus are going to feel threatened. Especially if it is a boy. Octavia already has approached me about her inheritance, begging me to circumvent Septimus' will." Willa said.

"No one is going to hurt our child." Braxton assured her.

"I want it to have everything. We do not know it is not Septimus'." Willa whispered.

"Of course the baby is his. Of course it is a Malfoy." Braxton said looking her in the eye. "I understand."

Willa smiled and scooted closer to kiss him. He kissed her back, but soon was smiling too much to continue.

"We are having a baby!" he whispered.

Willa laughed giddily and nuzzled against him.

When the day finally came in late September, Elnath's initial assessment proved accurate. Even in a twenty-four-year-old body, the pain of labor was horrific, and it triggered long buried memories for Willa of her father and Lila and Ciaran. Her screams terrified even Elnath, who had not had easy births herself, and she sent for Braxton even though as a man it was entirely unacceptable for him to present. Willa calmed immediately with his presence and he coaxed her through every remaining step the healers and Elnath commanded of her.

The sound of a piercing wail filled the bedroom as Orla Bethany Malfoy entered the world. Her tiny body, pinched faced and purple, was placed on Willa's chest and she had never seen anything more beautiful in her life. Braxton peered on mesmerized. He kissed Willa's forehead and then Orla's head.

"She is perfect." He whispered.

"Yes, she is." Willa agreed.