The bones regrowing was among one of the more uncomfortable feelings Draco Malfoy had experienced. He'd never needed that many regrown at once while conscious. Still though, it was by no means one of the worst. Merlin knew he had been through far more painful things. In spite of that, Potter had granted him time off to "heal" and "rest". It was time that he didn't particularly want or need.

Hermione had encouraged it. She was excited by the prospect of keeping the boys home from nursery so that they could spend some time with their father. Draco didn't have it in him to disappoint her and so he had accepted the unexpected holiday.

By lunch, the change in routine was getting to everyone. Evander had shoved Theo and the youngest was snuggled into his father's lap, sniffling unhappily while the eldest sat in the corner in timeout, wailing at the top of his lungs. Then, just as everyone began to calm down, the Floo roared to life. The children startled and Evander bolted over to Draco.

Malfoy's own heart was hammering even as he chanted to himself that the wards worked. They were safe. They were safe. They were safe. He breathed and checked for the telltale weight of the knife strapped to his ankle and extra wand in his sleeve. Because some habits never died.

"Gran!" Evander shrieked. Molly Weasley bustled out of the fireplace, pulling Evander into a suffocating hug. Draco watched, as his heartrate slowed, and Theo struggled out of his arms.

"Hello, darlings." She smiled at her pseudo-grandsons and pulled a few things out of her bag for them. "Run along. I need a word with your father." They took their gifts and ran off into another room while Draco got to his feet – because a lady had entered, after all. "None of that, sit." She waved him off, dropping her bags onto a chair in the sitting room.

Draco sat.

"Hermione told me that you would be home with those beautiful boys today. Thought I would stop by with some lunch."

"That's very kind of you, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you." He smiled politely. Molly arched an eyebrow and sighed, sitting down next to him on the pristine couch. The silence stretched on for a little longer while Draco waited for her to share the real reason for her visit.

"Is your arm healing up alright then?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes, its healing just fine, thank you for asking."

She sighed again.

"Come now, dear. There's no need for formality."

"Of course," he conceded. Then fidgeted in his seat. Then tried to look relaxed. Slouched a bit. Sat back up. Huffed in frustration. Ran his hand through his hair and looked at Molly helplessly.

"One of these days," She smiled and reached out to put a hand on his knee. Another nod.

"I wanted to apologize," his gaze turned wary, hers apologetic. "I know you don't want to hear it. I need to say it." Her voice was pleading in a way that had Draco nodding yet again. "Ron's behavior is unacceptable. I thought I raised him better than that, I really did. I love my son but his – prejudice – is something I've never been able to break him of. He can be so sweet, so brave, so loyal and you'd think with Hermione's… feelings for you that he would have –" she frowned. "I won't allow the children in this family to be victims of his anger. Evander and Theo will always be welcome. Always. I've already spoken with Gabrielle. She won't allow Ron to keep the children apart. So you needn't worry about that."

Draco released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

"Your upbringing – that was not your fault. I would've thought this was clear by now, but evidently not." The annoyed look on her face almost made him laugh. "We don't hold any of that," she flapped her hand behind her vaguely, "-against you. That is all in the past. You are family. I look after my own, you understand? Even if that means telling Ronald when he needs to get his head out of his arse. He is no longer welcome at family functions until he can prove that he will be on his best behavior and can treat everyone with respect."

The shock on Draco's face was almost palpable. His grey eyes were wide, his mouth had fallen open slightly and he was outright staring at the woman across from him.

"Oh, dear," she sighed, smiling sadly and cocking her head to the side. "We enjoy having you around. You understand that, don't you?" Draco swallowed hard and finally looked down. He knew he eventually needed to speak. Evander and Theo were shrieking with laughter in the other room and there were things that needed to get done but he was truly stunned into silence.

"You don't need to –" his voice broke and the uncharacteristic tidal wave of emotion choked him as Molly Weasley stared at him with the most understanding and caring expression he'd never seen.

"Hush," she scolded and reached up to place a warm hand on his sharp cheek.

His chest and lungs fell out of sync again then because the scar on his arm was burning, itching, he was exhausted, just so overall tired and being so paranoid all the time was hard and no one had ever taught him how to do any of this because his body was littered in scars left by his father and his mother was holed up in Malfoy Manor and he was raised on hatred but he'd be damned if his children were too and it was impossible to be strong for Granger always when he wanted his mother no matter how pathetic it sounded because he shouldn't have had to grow up that fast and it wasn't fair and it wasn't fair that his kids didn't have grandparents because of a war that his family had helped start and two kids later everyone still hated him and – and he was so tired of proving himself and –

"Oh, hush now. It's all alright." –his face was wet and Molly was pulling him down into a hug by a strong grip on the back of his head – and he felt utterly pathetic.

He felt childish and he hated himself for it yet he couldn't force himself to pull away as she hugged him all polar opposite of Narcissa Malfoy with plump curves, firm hugs, soft words, and warm reassurances. For three seconds it felt like everything was going to be okay and he wondered if this is what it was supposed to feel like when a mother hugged her child.

When the boys ran back into the room a few moments later, Draco jerked away from Molly and schooled his features into some granite mask before looking to his children. They hopped around with their new toys in hand.

"Did you thank your Gran?" his voice was shockingly steady.

"Yes, Father." Evander answered.

"Tanku," Theo nodded along.

"Well then," Molly clapped her hands. "Lunch anyone?" The children cheered.

The next few weeks were entirely, wonderfully uneventful. No family brawls, no workplace casualties. Draco's injuries healed rather beautifully aside from the nasty scars forming overtop the Dark Mark. They were thick and ugly, layering themselves overtop the black skull and snake. The sensation of the Mark clawing its way back to the surface, fighting for dominance over the scarring was not at all pleasant. It felt like maggots squirming around and – really – it just sucked.

Evander crawled into their bed one morning, weeks after the visit from Molly, still cuddling the plushie he'd been given that day. His eyes were sleepy, blond hair an utter disaster. At some point during the night, he'd shed his shirt and was now just snuggling in between his mum and dad in his plaid pajama bottoms. He lifted one of Draco's eyelids, doing his best to peer directly into his father's soul.

"Are you awake?" his whispered, oh-so-loudly. Draco had been awake the moment Evander had stepped into the hallway. That didn't mean he was ready to be up. "Are you?" Draco grunted. "Dad," he whined, shoving his head with his little hands.

"Evander," Hermione sighed, rolling over, tossing an arm over her son and tugging him down onto his back. "Hush," the child pouted and flopped his arms onto the mattress dramatically, smacking Draco in the process. The older Malfoy growled and opened one eye to stare at Evander with empty irritation.

"I'm bored, father."

Both of Draco's eyes widened in frustrated disbelief before he burst out laughing, startling Hermione and Evander in the process.

"Of course you are." Then he wrapped two pale, long arms around Evander and tugged him on top of his chest. "What would you like to do today?"

"We have dinner at the Weasley's this evening," Hermione reminded him. "The election," Her voice was scratchy and sleepy and Draco found it absolutely lovely.

The Minister of Magic candidates were going to be announced as the election process was to begin come morning. The anxiety surrounding the whole impending announcement led to Molly deciding to host a dinner with the hope of distracting people.

"What would you like to do until we go over to Gran's house?" he amended. Evander was looking at him like he had grown a second head. "Anything you want." Hermione looked at him warily. That was a very blank check for a very imaginative little boy.

"I want to go to Uncle George's store. And the sweet shop." He said hesitantly.

"You best go get dressed then. That is a lot to do and we don't have all day." Draco said seriously, placing Evander on the floor. "Run along, now. Hurry. Wake your brother as well." Evander giggled and ran off at the speed of light.

Hermione was looking at him curiously, even as Draco rolled his eyes.

"What's gotten into you this morning?" she asked.

"I'd like to give them a good – no, a fun – day."

"Sounds wonderful," she yawned.

Draco flipped himself over so that he was hovering above her. Her breath hitched – still, after all these years – and he smirked, because he knew. Her hair was huge and frizzy, and she was wearing an old Slytherin Quidditch shirt of his. He could feel the swell of her belly against his abdomen and his arm twinged a bit, but it didn't matter – not one bit. Because the messy, sleepy, brilliant, beautiful woman between his arms loved him. The truly unconditional kind of love that spit in the face of every single thing he had ever done wrong – and Merlin knew that list was a long one.

His smirk had fallen away and been replaced by some cross between guilt and adoration that had Hermione's forehead wrinkling.

"What –"

He kissed her then, before the barrage of questions could begin. He kissed her firmly and desperately and passionately. It took her a second to respond. He was confusing her, he knew. He also just didn't bloody care. She didn't need to know everything. He took advantage when she gasped, slipping his tongue into her mouth and pushing her more firmly into the bed. Her hands were grasping at his skin now, nails scratching at his chest and down his sides, then –

She groaned miserably and shoved at him as hard as she could. His own confusion froze him for a moment before he let her push him away, watching as she ran to the en-suite and slammed the door behind her.

Draco sighed and flopped down onto the bed, taking a few deep breaths before rolling off the bed and making his way to the bathroom door.

"Granger," he knocked hard on the door.

"No," she shouted hoarsely.

"Yes,"

"Sod off Malfoy."

"Four years, Granger. Get over it." He yelled back.

He listened to her cough and wretch for another moment before pushing the door open and making his way over to sit down beside her on the tile floor. Her dramatic groan made him laugh and that only made her angrier even as he reached to twist her hair around his fist. Her shoulders heaved again, and she vomited violently once more before leaning sideways onto her husband's shoulder as he flushed the toilet.

"Alright, then?" he smirked. Hermione nodded her head, frizzy curl falling in front of her eyes. "Give me your hand,"

"Why?"

"Fuck, Granger. Must you question everything?" he growled, moving the hair out of her face and wrenching her hand into his lap. His fingers moved deftly, expertly over her wrist and found the pressure point he was looking for, massaging his thumb into it as she sagged.

"Mummy!" a little voice shrieked. She laughed tiredly and Draco arched a perfect blond eyebrow at her.

"Well, up you get." He was lifting her and placing her on her feet, hands on her hips, steadying her until he was certain she would not fall over.

"Yes, darling, what is it?" she turned just as Evander ran into the bathroom, Theo left crying in the room down the hall.

"I can't reach my trousers."

"Oh dear. Well let's fix that shall we?"

The Malfoy boys were all dressed up in their robes, hair combed, bouncing around by the Floo, waiting for their mother while Draco haphazardly tossed her own robe around her shoulders. She was double, triple checking her charmed bag for everything she might ever need on their little outing. Draco was fastening his extra wand to his forearm and the knife to his ankle and the kids were begging to leave.

Draco was all hard edges, rigid shoulders and a stiff spine as he prepared himself to go out into public. It was always an ordeal; the stares, the judgmental looks Hermione got and worst of all the pity with which people would watch Evander and Theo. Draco dreaded the day that they were old enough to know; Theo more than Evander. Evander was logical and rational. He was smart. He knew his father and he knew what really happened. He loved and he learned but he didn't take everything so personally like Theo did. His youngest was a very emotional child. He took everything straight to his little heart.

He felt the pang of some combination of pain, guilt and love as his son toddled over and held his arms out to be picked up. Draco wanted them this young, this innocent, this unaware forever.

"Can we go now, Mum?"

"Go? Bye-bye?" Theo questioned. Draco nodded and kissed the boys' temple.

"Alright, ready." Hermione waved them all towards the Floo; all lovely in her blue jumper and robe. Her belly had grown enough in the last few weeks that even with the jumper it stuck out a bit between her robes and he felt that surge of overwhelming, paranoid, protective love towards her and their third child that he felt every time he looked at her.

"Evander?" Draco held the pot out to the boy as he settled Theo on his hip. Evander beamed and stuck his little fist into the Floo Powder.

"Di- Aw- Gohn Al-ly!" he shouted and threw it all at his feet.

"Well done," Draco praised once they arrived at their destination. He brushed himself off, then rearranged Theo's hair. Evander grinned.

"Yes, really." Hermione echoed excitedly. "Very good job, sweetheart."

"Where are we off to first, then?" Draco swallowed hard, trying to force back the paranoia that was urging him to look around them – ten times. He wanted to be in the moment. He really did. But Hermione was already shifting nervously, just waiting for somebody to recognize her. He was her hands come up, one to grasp Evander's hand and the other to lie protectively over her stomach. Draco pretended not to notice.

"Sweets!"

"Sweets it is."

The family of four took off down the street while Evander's eyes grew wider and wider with wonder. For a brief moment or two, Draco forgot. He forgot that people were staring. He forgot that people were wondering if Hermione was Imperiused. He forgot that people were wondering who he paid off to get out of Azkaban.

But even as it all came rushing back as a couple in the aisle next to him muttered to each other, Evander beamed at him with an armful of Chocolate Wands and Fizzing Whizzbees and he simply didn't care. At least not for now, because Evander and Theo didn't know what people were thinking and whispering about. They were happy and filling their arms, and their parent's arms, with candy. That was enough for him.

They went to George's store next, after Hermione's bottomless bag of wonders had been reorganized to accommodate the candy and Evander absolutely lost his mind. He shrieked at the top of his lungs with ear piercing excitement and took off in Uncle George's direction. Theo looked up at Draco and Hermione with the most judgmental look a two-year-old was capable of. A laugh burst out of Hermione as she watched Theo wonder what exactly was wrong with his older brother.

"I'm going to go say 'hello' to George." She stretched up on her toes to peck Draco's cheek before letting go of Theo's hand and making her way through the crowd after Evander.

" – Little Malfoy," George was saying.

"What is that?" Evander was oo-ing and ah-ing at just about everything his big grey eyes laid upon.

"That," George chuckled. "my boy, is a Fanged Frisbee." He beamed oh-so-innocently at Hermione as Evander turned to her with a pleading look on his face.

"Absolutely not,"

"Always a buzz kill, your mom." George tsked, winking at Evander. "We'll find you some more age-appropriate toys, won't we? Come on now,"

He gestured the Malfoys in the opposite direction and jumped a bit in surprise as Evander rushed up and grabbed his hand. Hermione followed along behind them, watching carefully as she undoubtedly missed George slipping things into her son's pockets left and right.

"Are you planning to announce that little bundle of good news to anyone anytime soon?" George asked suddenly, without turning so much as turning around. Hermione looked at the back of George's red head in shock. "Would you rather I make an arse of myself and suggest you've gained a bit of weight?" he smirked. Evander busied himself with a pygmy puff while George finally turned to face Hermione.

"Uh, no." she cleared her throat and looked around the shop as she awkwardly avoided eye contact.

"I have two kids," He smirked.

"Well, I – We haven't – It's just that there's – "

"You should tell the fam. They'll be positively thrilled, you know." She blushed. "If only we were all gathering together, say for a family dinner, tonight." he teased. She sighed.

"You won't tell –"

"Of course not. You're going to."

"But Ron – he's so angry and he just hates –" she paused with a glance at Evander and then lowered her voice. "– hates Malfoy so much. I can't bear the way he looks at the boys, George, I just can't –"

And then George was hugging her, all tight and bearlike.

"Congratulations," he said sincerely, before turning his head and kissing her forehead. The tears that welled up promptly vanished as he violently ruffled her hair. "Won-Won will get over himself. Needs to grow up eventually, doesn't he?" she nodded. "Tell them." She nodded again. "Evanderrr," he sang. The boy turned, face the picture of innocence as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Time to check out, don't you think?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow at the both of them.

The family reunited outside the shop. Theo was dozing in Draco's arms on a bench outside George's store. Evander hopped over to him; mischievous expression having taken over his face.

"I'm not sure I like that look." Draco laughed, readjusting Theo.

"You don't," Hermione confirmed, sitting down beside Draco and pulling Theo onto her lap. He nuzzled closer and Hermione stroked his back softly as he yawned wide. Then, as she glanced back at Evander and Draco, she caught the tail end of what looked to be them both stuffing something back into Evander's pockets with put upon innocence. She narrowed her eyes in warning suspicion but the playful look in Draco's eyes deterred her from saying anything about it. So, for once, she did something she had never done and played dumb, ignoring the wink Draco sent Evander's way. "Are you planning on sharing any of those sweets with your mum and dad?" she asked quietly, looking down at Theo as his eyelids fluttered briefly.

Evander appraised them both before nodding hesitantly and pulling a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans out of Hermione's bag after sticking nearly his whole head inside. Draco turned up his nose and Hermione chuckled at him.

"Don't be a baby, Father." Evander taunted. Hermione laughed.

"Yes, Draco. Listen to your four-year-old; don't be a baby." She smirked.

He sneered and ripped the box out of Evander's hand. The boy giggled and looked up at Hermione while Draco shook a few out into his palm. Draco sniffed one, touched the tip of his tongue to it, and then popped it into his mouth.

Then he gagged and promptly spit it out on the ground beside him.

"Vomit,"

Hermione and Evander laughed hard enough that Theo woke and whined at the noise. Hermione soothed him as the laughs continued against her will. Draco grew broody and annoyed before pushing the box back at Evander.

"Share some with your mum then if I'm being such a baby."

"Gladly," Hermione held her hand out and tossed it into her mouth with no hesitation. "Blueberry," she grinned. Draco scowled.

Evander was next and the ridiculous boy threw nearly a whole handful in his mouth. He grimaced, then giggled and stuck his tongue out at Draco.

"Bite!" Theo complained.

"Can I, mum?" Hermione glanced at the candy, then at her toddler and shrugged.

"Bite it in half,"

Evander ate one half, and offered the other to his little brother who made an utterly disgusted face and spit it out into Hermione's palm.

Shacklebolt's untimely death had resulted in Percy Weasley as Interim Minister and the government doing what they could to get the election process off the ground as quickly as possible. The country had been traumatized by people in power for ages. They feared those who wanted authority over others. No one wanted an appointed Minister. Other than Shacklebolt, that hadn't ended well in decades. The country was in a state of anxiety. The stress could be felt like a low hanging cloud that buzzed and hummed and vibrated around them; a nervous energy that permeated everything.

Ron wasn't at dinner that night. When the Malfoys stepped out of the Floo, the stress and anticipation of that at least almost visibly seeped out of both adults' shoulders. Hermione would've sworn she saw Evander let out a little breath as well when Molly quietly informed them that Ron would not be joining them.

Dinner was quiet. Ginny and Hermione sat beside each other, gripping one another's hands under the table. Draco was ramrod straight, face even more pale and drawn than usual. George attempted a halfhearted joke every now and then. Gabrielle and James would laugh half-heartedly. Angelina had barely touched her food. Molly force fed everyone dessert and attempted conversation until Arthur quieted her with a hand on her knee.

The children were chatting and babbling happily amongst themselves. Fred, James and Roxanne were trying to sneakily trade their vegetables with one another.

Hermione's fingers were going numb. Ginny's were turning white.

Everyone looked positively nauseous as they cleared the table and moved over to the sitting room.

They were waiting for the announcement to come over the radio. The one that would tell them who would be running. The paper had been updating them frequently on the various candidates ranging from Barnabus Flint to Violet Clearwater. Marcus Belby was even running. There were a few others whose names meant nothing to no one which was both appealing and terrifying.

The fear was irrational. Hermione knew that – logically speaking. What were they afraid of? Voldemort coming back from the dead and running for Minister of Magic? And people electing him?

"Hate to do this, Granger, but this silence is positively awful." George grinned impishly. Hermione's eyes went wide, and she shook her head.

"George, no."

"George, yes." He smirked. Ginny looked back and forth between the two.

"Hermione has something to share with the class!"

"George," she hissed.

"Hermione," he echoed. Draco snorted and dropped a heavy arm around her shoulders. Hermione blushed.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, fiery eyes narrowing in something like accusation and suspicion. Hermione huffed indignantly before looking around the room.

"Harry's not even here," she glared at George. He shrugged.

"You can tell Dung Brain 1 and 2 another time."

James giggled.

"George," Molly snapped. Angelina smacked the back of his head.

"I'm pregnant." Hermione nearly shouted. Ginny blinked in a bit of unchecked shock before she grinned and threw her arms around her friend. "Oh," Hermione startled.

"We can talk about the fact that my brother knew about this before I did, another time." She grumbled in Hermione's ear.

Then, the redhead launched herself around Hermione and at Draco Malfoy, hugging him for a short moment.

"Congratulations,"

"Erm," Draco cleared his throat and patted Ginny's back awkwardly. When she pulled back, he readjusted himself, straightening his clothes. "Thank you,"

Ginny smirked.

The chorus of congratulations continued around Draco and Hermione as they smiled and nodded and hugged.

-And then the static of the radio cut through the chatter and everybody's hearts clenched.

Hermione felt a pang of something as memories washed over her of Harry and Ron and herself sitting in a tent listening for the names of their dead friends and family to come over the radio.

But before a single word was spoken, a frantic succession of sounds rang out as Harry's owl pecked the glass of the window. James was the one to rush over and throw it open, laughing happily as the bird flew overhead and dropped a scroll directly in Draco's lap.

One word was written in Harry's messy scrawl. One word in spikey, black letters amidst white parchment that seemed so loud somehow.

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