For Hermione, being surrounded by her children was emotional. The little ones had missed her intently, despite only having spent a couple of days with limited access to their mother, and wouldn't leave her alone.

She found herself holding them for as long as they would let her, trying to feel right, to fill the hollow emptiness that was plaguing her, but before she felt anything they wriggled with boredom and ran off for breakfast. Scorpius and Hugo were cooking up a storm, and she was entirely grateful to them. The idea of doing it herself seemed so impossible, and thanks to them she also got to avoid the horror that was her husband in the kitchen.

However, the entire time, even as she was holding Jeffrey, listening to his story, playing with his wild curls, her mind kept returning to her newborns, unable to keep them from her thoughts, they were like a dark, toxic pull.

She found herself wandering away from her boisterous family, slipping away unseen as they chowed down on scrambled eggs, and walked back to her room. Behind its closed door she felt safer, it muted out the sounds that usually brought her joy. She drew the curtains, casting darkness around the room and came to stand above her sleeping babies.

Tears dripped from her cheeks as she looked at them, her eyes almost unseeing, that was the intensity of her gaze. They were so peaceful, asleep, quiet, not screaming. Almost as if they weren't there.

She gripped the edges of the bassinets as her vision focused and she shook her head slightly. OF course they were there. She just wasn't sure how she was supposed to cope with them.

She gazed at her daughter's irregular face, in the dim light and, and she had to admit some part of her felt she needed fixing, and sometimes things seem broken, even if they aren't.

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Draco noted his wife's absence almost immediately, but he didn't follow her. She likely wanted to be alone, and Draco himself wanted to be around their children. Just listening to the soft hubbub of their chatter and laughter seemed to refresh his soul. He joined the older kids in the kitchen to wash up from breakfast. Julian had all the small children at the table, drawing pictures of their new family, helping to satiate their curiosity to meet their new siblings.

"When will we get to see them?" Scorpius asked Draco, his son sensing what was on his mind.

Draco frowned and bit his lip. "I'm not entirely sure. We have to get them calm, and thus far your newest sister doesn't like being touched.

"The kids are dying to hold them." Scorpius sighed as he emptied the sink.

"I know." Draco agreed, still unsure how to handle this new hurdle in their life. Never had anything happened like this. Each child had been new, one at a time, healthy, and well, they weren't born during an emergency.

Except Angel of course. His time in the waiting room at the hospital had brought back sharp memories of losing their deceased child, and Draco knew Hermione was burdened with these memories as well.

It was just such a weird experience, they hadn't even named the twins yet, for Christ sake. Usually the name decision came naturally, during those first beautiful moments, Draco clutching Hermione, as she held their baby for the first time, their baby scrunched up and purple, yet beautiful, Hermione red and glowing with exhaustion, but happy. Draco overflowing with pride.

It was a primal beauty, it was bonding. And this was the first time it hadn't happened.

He was grateful of course, that the babies had made it, it had been worse going through the birth and coming out with nothing but a tiny, cold body.

But now, he was just so overwhelmed. And when he thought about his near future, two babies, one blind, one disabled, he felt so very, very old.

And he couldn't even focus on that. He had a bunch of children out of school, where they were missing valuable classes, which he knew would be upsetting Hermione, and he had noticed Hugo had several half faded bruises. He needed to contact McGonagall about that.

Not to mention Rose, who had only seen briefly, looked sickly. She was pale, and the thinnest he'd ever seen her. Her hair looked weird too. Kind of, lank, unhealthy even.

That and his littlest children all were lacking in attention.

He rubbed his eyes, shaking off all of his worry and poured a lukewarm coffee from the machine and gulped it down quickly.

"I'm going to talk to your mother, you guys relax a bit okay? Put a movie on or something."

The kids agreed and Draco left them, though he found himself ascending the stairs somewhat slowly. He stood outside his bedroom door for several minutes, unsure of what exactly was holding him back, but being held back, nonetheless.

Eventually he knocked softly, and Hermione called for him to enter. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim light of their bedroom, the curtains were drawn, but as he closed the door behind him he noticed Hermione wasn't in their bed. She was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor in front of bassinets, and she had their youngest son in her arms.

"Hey." He whispered, kneeling beside her, watching as the baby sweetly suckled on one of his wife's fingers.

"Hey." She whispered back, lifting her head up to give him a small smile and greet him with a kiss.

It was only small, and she didn't linger, but just feeling her against him like that revived Draco in a way nothing else could.

"What are we gonna call them?" Draco asked, and stood so he could gently pick up their sleeping daughter. He settled down beside Hermione, and held his tiny daughter in his arms.

Her features were so delicate, her hands the tiniest he'd ever seen, and completely perfect. In his beloved arms, their son, awake and gurgling quietly, his unseeing eyes the brightest of silver, his features a perfect blend of Hermione's and his own. He felt overwhelmed with love.

"I think he's Nicholas. That's been on our list for years." Hermione eventually answered, looking over at Draco, her eyes misty. "I love it." Draco agreed, the name immediately fitting the angelic boy in Hermione's arms.

"What about this one?" Draco prompted her, lifting their tiny baby up so Hermione could see her properly in the dim light.

"I'm not sure." Hermione whispered, her tone emotional.

Draco thought for a moment, and hesitated, because they had agreed not to have all Latin names, like the Pure Blood families often did, but there was a name Draco suddenly felt was perfect.

"What about, Amara?" He suggested softly, easing the child into Hermione's arms despite her reluctance. He held her while she held them both, tensely at first and then slowly relaxed.

"It means beloved." He added, kissing her shoulder gently.

"Beloved." She repeated huskily as a tear fell from her eye and landed on the baby's blanket.

"Nicholas and Amara. Our babies." Hermione said with a sniff, and cuddled them to her. "Our last babies."