Happy 20th chapter! It's time for The Talk.

The big, inevitable question had arrived.

Wang Mu had stopped scribbling away at her homework, glancing up at him with a small, inquisitive frown on her face. "Papa, can I ask you something?"

"Always," Voldemort replied as he passed her, glancing at her homework as he did so. "Need help with one of your questions? Daddy might be the better person to ask about all that muggle stuff."

"No, it's not that."

"Alright, then hit me. What's up?"

She rested her chin on her hand, shrugging a little. "What's sex?"

Voldemort dropped his spoon from when he'd been stirring sugar into his coffee, his brain momentarily freezing. "Huh?"

"Sex," she repeated unnecessarily. "Some people at school were laughing about it, but when I asked 'em, they didn't really know either. The boys pretended to, but they had no idea, it was obvious."

"Uh-huh…" Voldemort cleared his throat, trying to decide the best way to go about this, before calling, "Quirrell! Get in here."

"Mmf…" Was the only exhausted response he got from the living room, where Quirrell was sprawled out on the couch.

Voldemort poked his head around the kitchen door, hissing, "Get up and help me. She just asked the question. The question."

"Oh." Quirrell's expression cleared as he propped himself up. "The question? Really? Already?"

"She's ten, so, I mean, that's normal, right?"

"I guess so," Quirrell replied, though he looked a little dazed. "Uh. Ok. Wow, everything goes by so fast, huh?"

"Not the time, man."

"Right, yeah, ok…" He stood from the couch, stretching a little. "Jeez, alright, plan of action. We're doing this."

"We're…The whole thing?" Voldemort attempted, feeling a little dizzy. "The whole talk?"

Wang Mu poked her head around the kitchen door with a frown. "What're you two talking about?" she demanded. "Sex?"

"No," Voldemort replied, far too quickly.

"Daddy, Papa won't tell me what sex is," she complained. "And he's going all red."

"He sure is," Quirrell agreed. "Come here, sit. Let's have a chat."

Voldemort pressed his palm to his cheek, not too surprised to find he was getting flushed. This was a big moment; he couldn't screw it up. His own 'Talk' at the Orphanage had been fucking useless. His sexual exploits at Hogwarts had started at the age of fifteen, where he'd had pretty much no idea what he'd been doing. His first time had been a lot of awkward fumbling and had lasted a grand total of two minutes.

Bellatrix really hadn't been impressed.

Wang Mu sat down on the couch expectantly, staring up at the two of them. "So…"

"So!" Quirrell repeated, clapping his hands, already in teacher-mode. "It's time we had a talk. The talk, if you will. We're going to explain some stuff that you might have heard some of your friends talk about. It's absolutely normal to be curious, so if you have any questions, you go ahead and ask them. Voldemort," this he directed at his husband, "stop shuffling away. We're doing this."

"Is it really serious?" Wang asked, beginning to look a little nervous. "I don't want to be in trouble."

"You're not in trouble, baby, not at all," Quirrell reassured her. "In fact, I'm really glad you came to us about this. We both are."

"Sure," Voldemort attempted uncomfortably. "Really glad." Oh, sweet hell, he was going to have to talk about sex with his ten-year-old daughter. His little girl, who was growing way too fast.

"See, when you're at your age, I guess changes start to happen…" Quirrell began, then stopped with a shake of his head. "Hold on. I have books."

"Oh, no," Wang protested. "Is this like school?"

"No, no, it's fine…" Quirrell was already halfway up the stairs to get a bunch of books he'd bought for this exact moment. Voldemort stared after him helplessly before glancing back at Wang Mu.

"Well," he started, attempting a smile. "This is fun, huh?"

"No."

"No, you're totally right, it isn't. Let's wait another year, huh?"

"Your face is still red, Papa."

"Yeah, I can feel it."

Quirrell was back within moments, presenting a collection of books, several of which included the title 'Growing Up' or 'Your Changing Bodies'. Voldemort had never wanted a shot of Firewhisky more in his life.

"Alright, Wang, this is nothing to worry about, but it is important," Quirrell started, taking a seat in the armchair. Voldemort couldn't help but envy him for a moment. It was obvious that Quirrell's talk had been with his parents, all comforting and intellectual, judging by how confident he was with this. That, and probably all his romance novels.

"Ok…" She said doubtfully.

Quirrell paused, interlocking his fingers as he sat back. "Older kids at school have been talking about sex, huh? Did they tell you anything?"

She shook her head carefully. "They were laughing, but when I asked, they didn't really know. Something about people not wearing clothes."

"Uh-huh, alright. Well, try not to listen to anything they say about it. They're too young themselves and they'll be talking nonsense." Quirrell tapped the arms of his chair, taking a few moments. "Sex is usually between two people who are in love with each other. It's something special. Or, at least, that's how I think it should be."

"People who're in love? Ok." She sat up straighter.

"But you don't really have to think about it for a while until you're older," Quirrell continued. "Sex is for adults who love each other. Like me and your Papa."

"Oh." She blinked, glancing at Voldemort again. "So it's a grown-up thing."

"Yep, which is probably why those kids were laughing about it, so they'd look more grown-up," Quirrell said. "And, well, that's—"

"How babies are made, talk over," Voldemort added, spreading his arms. "There, that wasn't so complicated, right?"

"Wait!" She held up her hands in confusion. "Wait, how are babies made? Slow down."

Quirrell rubbed his forehead, glaring at Voldemort as he stood from the armchair. "May I talk with you for a second?" He managed through gritted teeth, gesturing sharply at the kitchen. Voldemort suppressed the urge to groan, but obediently followed Quirrell into the other room, closing the door behind them. "Alright," Quirrell began. "I mean this in the nicest way possible, but what the hell is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem," Voldemort protested, then paused. "Look, I don't know, alright? It's weird, and I don't want to screw it up, and my own talk was so awful, I just…I know I'm not handling this well. I know that. I just have no idea what to do."

"It can't just be me," Quirrell insisted. "This is something we should do together. As a team. It really isn't that bad, you know? It was always going to come up eventually."

"Yeah, I get that. I get that this is important. That's why I don't want to screw it up." Voldemort moved past him, retrieving his abandoned mug of coffee. "Look, you seem to be doing a great job. You can do this without me."

"But I want to do it with you. This is a big moment for us as parents. What we say could have a really big impact! If she sees you acting all weird about it, it could make her feel weird for asking questions, and that's—"

"I get that. I just really don't think I'm the best person to talk to her about this stuff. I learnt sex ed. from a fucking nun, then went on to become the school slut."

Quirrell was unable to help huffing a small laugh at that, then quickly attempted to maintain a straight face. "And I was a virgin until I was 23, remember? Until we made love."

Voldemort paused, taking a sip of his drink. "Got me there. We're both at extreme opposite ends."

"Yeah, so why don't we go back out there and not make this all about us, how does that sound?" Quirrell suggested, nudging him.

"Sounds fair," Voldemort admitted. As Quirrell moved back to the door, Voldemort grabbed at his hand, pulling him back towards him. "You're the best I've ever had, by the way."

"Thanks for that," Quirrell retorted with a roll of his eyes. He then pressed a quick kiss to Voldemort's cheek. "And I'm glad you were my first and only."

Voldemort gave his hand a firm squeeze. "We've got this. Let's fucking go."

XxX

They tackled periods. They tackled pregnancy. It was difficult, but bearable. After all, Quirrell had known all this would come up when they adopted a girl; he just hadn't wanted to mess anything up. Extensive research had taken place a few months ago, on top of the knowledge he already had, in order to make sure every possible question could be answered.

"So, a man and a woman make babies…?" Wang repeated carefully. "So you and Papa can't make babies."

"Yeah, thankfully," Voldemort had to say. Quirrell couldn't help but silently agree; pregnancy looked no joke. He had no idea how people did it.

"That's the traditional way to make babies, yes. But sex doesn't have to just be for having a baby."

She frowned. "Then why do people do it, if not for that?"

"For fun," Voldemort stated bluntly. This earned him a not-so-gentle hit on the shoulder from his husband. "I mean, because they love each other," he amended. "But also for fun."

"Huh." She nodded slowly, fidgeting a little. "Ok. I think I get it. So, anybody can have sex."

"As long as they're consenting adults who are happy and safe," Quirrell countered immediately, then realised he had probably made no sense to her there. "I mean, grown-ups who are careful, like…

"Like Grandma and Grandad?"

"Ugh, gross," Quirrell muttered, glancing at Voldemort. "D'you think my parents still have sex?"

Voldemort waved Quirrell off, trying to get back on track. "Point is, it's got to be a mutual thing, there's got to be respect, yeah?"

"Ok," she repeated sincerely.

"Don't worry, it was a lot of info," Quirrell told her. "If you're still confused about anything later or just want to talk, please come to us, alright? You don't have to be embarrassed about anything. I promise."

She nodded again. "I'm not really embarrassed," she said simply. "It's just a little weird."

"They'll probably be covering it at your school soon," Quirrell said. "So if it's weird coming to us and you'd rather talk to a nurse or female teacher…"

"At Hogwarts?"

"Oh. Uh, no, not really. I meant the primary school you're at now." That took Quirrell back. Hogwarts had basically had no sex ed. whatsoever and anything that had been taught was only heterosexual-orientated. He wondered if it would still be like that for Wang Mu and then felt a small prickle of anxiety once again. She'd be going to Hogwarts soon. She'd be leaving. She was growing up.

"Squirrel. Hey." Voldemort shook his shoulder, snapping him out of it. He blinked, noticing how rapidly he was bouncing his leg, and hastily made an effort to stop it and calm down.

"Sorry," he attempted. "I mean, yes, Hogwarts might teach you about it too."

"Wouldn't count on it, though," Voldemort added, humour in his voice. "After your Sorting, you're thrown to the wolves."

Wang Mu glanced at Quirrell nervously. "What does that mean, Daddy? If I'm not in a good House?"

"No, darling, the House doesn't matter," Quirrell insisted. "No matter which House you're in, we'll be excited for you. He's talking about the Scarf."

"The Scarf?"

"The Scarf of Sexual Preference. Broadcasts your sexuality to the whole school," Voldemort told her.

Quirrell pointed to himself. "Gay."

"Undecided, whatever the hell that meant," Voldemort added, pointing to himself. "Couldn't they have just said bisexual? That's what I am."

Wang Mu blinked at them. "But why does it do that, Daddies?"

"Beats me." Voldemort shrugged. "But hey, don't worry about it, alright? Everything's going to be fine. Go and finish your homework."

On that surge of bombshells, Wang stood from the couch. She bit her lip, then went over to hug both of them. "Thanks," she said. "Thanks for talking. And listening."

"Oh!" Quirrell hugged her back. "Anytime, Wang. Do you need help with the homework?"

"No, I got it," she replied. She left to continue her Maths questions and Quirrell breathed out slowly, glancing at Voldemort.

"Will everything be fine?" he couldn't help but ask. "With Hogwarts, I mean. Will it?"

"Of course," Voldemort reassured him, kissing his forehead. "Absolutely. Don't be scared."

"I am scared."

"I know. I guess I am a little, too. But we'll all be ok." Voldemort said, moving his kisses down to meet Quirrell's lips. "As long as she's not in Gryffindor."

"Don't start with that crap," Quirrell warned, but then got distracted by Voldemort's kisses.

"You're right, I'm sorry. You should take me to bed and teach me a lesson."

Quirrell pulled back to look at him. "Seriously? After a two-hour conversation on sex, it's ironically the last thing on my mind."

"Not me, babe." Voldemort began to kiss at Quirrell's neck; his weak spot. "Tell me again how good I am, and how glad you are you've only slept with me."

"No, you narcissist."

"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that," Voldemort teased. "You love it."

"I do," Quirrell said. "Obviously. I love it and I love you. But I'm emotional just now and today's been long. I really just want to sleep for ten hours."

"That can be arranged," Voldemort said as he effortlessly lifted Quirrell up in his strong arms. "Y'know I think we did really well today. Despite my little freak-out."

"We did great. Go us."

"We're awesome parents."

"For sure," Quirrell agreed sleepily as Voldemort began climbing the stairs. "And you are the best at sex."

The next chapter will be Wang Mu going to the Hogwarts Express, coinciding with me starting University this September. Time flies.