October 2011, 8 years later

Draco hated this process. It was why he only went through it once every three to four months. Well, one of the reasons. If he was honest he'd rather not be doing this at all. However, he had unfortunately started a chain of events that had led to this some eight years ago and now he was stuck with it. Not to mention both his mother and wife would give him hell otherwise.

"Planning on staying in the boat?"

Draco blinked and realized that, yes, they had made it to the island and he was the only one still seated. He scowled at the man as he got out.

"Don't test me, Potter. I'm not in the mood."

Harry chuckled. "Obviously if I'm back to 'Potter' again."

Draco rolled his eyes. It was a running joke with everyone about his name choice. So it went, if he called a person by their first name he, a) liked him or her, b) he or she hadn't pissed him off that day. The last name, on the other hand, meant trouble.

Harry led the way from the boat and into the immaculate, yet terrifying building. Every time it came to this visit Draco felt a bit of his pride chip away because he could feel nothing but admiration towards the man who had once been his childhood rival. Harry was Head of the Auror Department now. Usually a senior level Auror would be escorting Draco here, but Harry did it personally. The action was deeply appreciated, although he'd yet to outright say thank you in the past two years they'd been doing this.

There were always barriers that visitors had to pass before getting directly inside. Harry, of course, didn't have to go through any of them. One would think that Draco wouldn't have to either seeing as he was also a Department Head (sub-department, if he wanted to be technical). But, favoritism at its finest, he supposed. Or discrimination. Either or.

Barrier one included getting his wand taken. Barrier two was a set of spells to detect any unsavory magic or disguises. And barrier three was a ring they slipped onto your pinky finger that automatically adjusted to fit. It was a tracker so they knew where you were at all times.

Harry looked on with a frown. He had tried several times to get the guards to stop doing this to him, but it's been futile so far.

Once the gruesome screening was over, Draco and Harry finally made it to the visitation room. The door Draco went through would separate him and Harry for the next half an hour (or less).

With a deep breath, Draco opened the door and locked eyes with the man sitting on a chair, hands cupped on the table before him, with the same color hair and eyes as himself.

"Son," Lucius greeted.

Draco already wanted to leave.

Azkaban had a very strict visitation policy. Now while they allowed people to visit anytime they wanted, those dates had to be sent in advance so that the guards could prepare. Neither Hermione nor Draco knew that his visitation date with his father would coincide with her bimonthly check-in with Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan. Draco had promptly wanted to cancel, but Hermione forbade it.

"I'm perfectly fine to go on my own, you know."

It was Draco's turn then to forbid something and he promised that he would keep his visitation date only if someone went with her. And that's where Blaise came in who sat in the corner of the room looking at everything but her and the Healer and doctor in case he saw something someone not her husband shouldn't see.

"Alright, Hermione, you can sit up now," Healer Hasbrook said. Easier said than done, of course, when you were seven months pregnant. She ended up needing help from both physicians.

"Everything's looking good on our end," Dr. Lonnegan told her. Hermione huffed. He smiled at her and gently patted her hand. "And if something goes awry, we're well-prepared. You have your emergency bag packed at home?"

"Yes,"

"Ministry-issued portkey on you at all times?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good. And the fact that we're familiar with your situation makes it even better. You needn't worry."

Hermione sighed. "Okay. See you in two weeks then?"

"Two weeks," Dr. Lonnegan confirmed.

Blaise had been half-listening, not wanting to intrude, but knew when they were finished. He got up from his seat and helped Hermione down from table, bid her miracle workers farewell, and then escorted Hermione out of the room.

"I wish I could take a Calming Potion," Hermione grumbled. "I'm a total nervous wreck." She bit her lip before looking at Blaise and saying, "This is it, you know. How far along I was when Caelum was born. And we all know how much of a disaster that was."

"Oh, I don't remember a disaster," Blaise replied. Hermione's eyes widened, but he paid her no mind as he continued. "All I remember is a baby boy, the splitting image of his father, being born. That and staying in St. Mungo's a little longer than the norm. Now he's two months shy of turning eight, and constantly asks me to sneak him candy when you aren't looking."

Hermione laughed. "Please tell me you haven't been encouraging him."

Blaise smirked. "Alright, I won't tell you."

"Typical," she tutted. "The next time Gianna and Raphael come to visit I should send them home to you loaded with sweets."

"Good. We'd all share. Liliana's a tough one with her 'no sweets after five' policy."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they finally neared the exit. Blaise had her cloak which he helped her into.

"Where to next? Home? My place? Harry's?"

"The orphanage, then home," Hermione replied. "I have one more class to teach before I take the rest of the year off."

"How are the investments?" Lucius asked.

This was a normal question whenever Draco visited and it annoyed him. He had never been reckless when it came to money, nor would he be now with a wife, two children, and a third on the way. But an even better reason to be fed up with this was for the simple fact that anything Malfoy-related was, truly, none of his father's concern. Everything had been legally turned over to Draco when he had turned twenty-five six years ago. Investments, properties, accounts… Everything.

"Better than usual considering that I tapped into the muggle market a few months ago."

The twitch in Lucius' face was interesting. A slight narrowing of the eyes. Tight lips. The gentle throbbing of the vein above his left temple. The man was an aneurysm waiting to happen.

"The muggle market?"

Draco smiled. "That's right. Hermione and I had met a muggleborn who owns his own firm specializing in muggle stock with wizard clientele."

Lucius huffed. "You should never engage in something you know nothing about. Muggle stock…" he added with a sneer.

"That's what I have my wife for. She wasn't completely versed in it herself at the time, but overachiever and all that," Draco added fondly. "She knows far more than I do at this point. That's why I made her the primary stockholder for the investments there."

The outrage that Lucius was suddenly overcome with had been expected. Draco looked on, almost with a bored expression, as his father rose from his seat and leered over him.

"You did what?!" He shouted. "A mud-"

"If you're going to call her what I think you are, I'm leaving," Draco said sternly. Lucius glared at his son, but he did sit down.

"Those investments have never been outside of Malfoy hands. Nor in the hands of someone with a different…social status."

Draco sucked his teeth at his father's craftiness in synonym choice and leaned back in his seat.

"We've never had muggle stock before, so your point is moot. Furthermore, Hermione is a Malfoy, has been for almost a decade, and always will be. The sooner you come to terms with that the better. You have two grandchildren because of her and soon another one for Merlin's sake."

"One," Lucius said stubbornly. "As I recall, the first is adopted."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously and he got up without warning. He had never wanted to cause his father so much harm before now, but everyone has their limits. However, instead of taking any action that would give him in a cell next to his father, Draco headed towards the door and walked out of it without saying goodbye.

Harry had been startled by the rough pull of the door and how hard it had been slammed. He stared at Draco as he halted his steps, closed his eyes, and talked to himself. Well, counted backwards from ten.

Harry waited until he was done to ask, "You alright?"

Draco opened his eyes and glanced at him. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Narcissa had never cared for parks. They were too public. Too unkempt. Too many families and children she didn't know or approve of. And no, she didn't mean "approve of" in the blood status sense. She hadn't thought that way in a very long time due to her daughter's character and strength. By "approve of" she simply meant that she didn't know these people or their young ones. How would she know if they were appropriate in speech, manners, and overall behavior to interact with her grandchildren? That, regardless of blood, mattered greatly.

However, her grandchildren loved coming to the park. Their grandparents on their mother's side took them often, as well as their mother. How could she say no then when they asked? If not for their sweet faces and good behavior, at the very least to not be classified as the "mean" grandparent.

At least she had the decency to choose a wizard park. And so, Narcissa sat with poise and precision, a bit unblended from the other caregivers in the park, but she didn't care. She was there to tend to her grandchildren and to keep them well within her eyesight as they played.

"Cookies," Caelum said as he caught the ball his brother threw. Aiden frowned and held his hands out for him to throw it back.

"No, fudge," he replied. "Dad likes fudge."

"Mum likes cookies. They'll make her feel better."

"Dad has to feel better too. He's always grumpy after he comes back from seeing grandpa."

"Yeah, he is," Caelum agreed, throwing the ball at the same time. "I wonder why."

"I heard Uncle Harry say that he was a terrible person." Aiden let the ball fall into his hands, but it also hit him in the face at the same time. Caelum laughed, but promptly stopped after his brother's glare. Well, he still giggled.

"Can we ask grandma to buy both?" Caelum suggested. Aiden smiled broadly and nodded.

"Sure! We can mix them up and they can get both. Here, catch!"

The ball was thrown a little too wide and too hard and went over Caelum's shoulder.

"Sorry," Aiden said. "I'll go get it."

"No, it's okay. I'll get it."

Caelum walked over not more than three feet or so where the ball continued to roll until it hit the side of a sandbox. He smiled at it and bent over to pick it up when a pair of hands got to it first. He looked up and found a boy nearly twice his height standing in front of him.

Caelum gulped. "Can I have my ball back?"

The kid said nothing at first. He just stared at him, letting his gaze settle on Caelum's face and hair.

A sneer appeared on his face as he gave the ball a gentle throw into the air. "A Deatheater's kid doesn't deserve a nice ball like this."

A Deatheater's kid?

Caelum had never heard of that before, but it didn't matter. He felt picked on just the same and it made him mad. He reached out his hands to try to snatch the ball away, but instead the boy fell onto his back as though he'd been pushed. The ball itself stayed hovered in the air before it gently floated into Caelum's still open hands. His jaw had dropped in shock.

"He's over here!" Aiden said. Apparently he had gone to get their grandmother and she was not pleased. "Are you okay, Caelum?"

"I'd certainly say that he is," Narcissa said with a smile. "He did accidental magic just a moment ago. Well done, darling."

"Terry! Terry!" The mother of Caelum's bully came into view. Narcissa's smile turned into a vengeful grimace.

"You're the mother of this boy who sought to pick on my grandson, are you?"

"Pick on?" She sputtered as she helped her son up. "In case you failed to notice it's my son who was on the ground."

"Purely out of self-defense," Narcissa waved her hand. "You should teach your boy some respect and manners."

"He has them," his mother scoffed. "But I think in the case of a Malfoy, he's right not to use them. Let's go, Terry."

Narcissa used great restraint in not hexing the woman as she and her son walked away. Despite having every right to do so, she didn't want to teach her grandchildren such compulsive behavior. Skill and tact. That was a far better method for any situation.

Caelum frowned. "What's wrong with being a Malfoy?"

Narcissa looked down at him immediately, Aiden too, and replied, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Come along now. Let's head home."

Both boys gave their hands to their grandmother who led them out of the park. Neither she nor the children were oblivious to the looks they were getting by others.

"Grandma," Aiden addressed. "Can we buy fudge and cookies for mum and dad?"

Narcissa beamed. This wasn't the first time they requested treats for their parents. The boys were very aware of when their mother and father were wallowing in their emotions.

"Yes," she answered. "You both can have something too. You deserve it."

"What did we do to deserve them?" Hermione genuinely asked regarding her two sons.

She was sitting on the bed and smiling at the mixed box of fudge and chocolate chip cookies that Aiden and Caelum had presented to her and Draco after dinner. It was to help them on their "bad day."

"I don't know," Draco replied as he climbed onto the bed next to her. "But I've learned not to question good things."

"Oh no you don't," Hermione laughed as she gently pushed him away. "You're still wet from Aiden's bath."

Draco grinned. "I didn't even hug you."

"Regardless. You're not getting us sick, thank you."

Draco looked down at who made Hermione an "us" instead of a "me." He used his wand to quickly dry himself before reaching out a hand to touch her stomach. His daughter was in there. So was that damn curse they were still unable to get rid of even after all this time.

"How'd it go today?"

"They're not worried," Hermione said. "My bag is packed and I always have my portkey on me. Add in the constant plea day and night to our daughter to not be like her brother, then I think we're set. How did it go with your father?"

Draco snorted and leaned back on the bed. "Is it any different than usual? One of these days I'll lose my restraint and actually hurt him."

Hermione tutted. "No, you won't. You couldn't hurt your father even if you wanted to. Now, here," she plucked out a piece of fudge and held it over his mouth. "Eat,"

Draco sighed and leaned forward so that he could eat the fudge, not to mention envelope his wife's fingers with his mouth and tongue. Hermione laughed as he licked her fingers clean.

"That, Mr. Malfoy, is what led to me getting pregnant in the first place."

"I know," he answered smugly with a wide grin.

She rolled her eyes at him just as Frizzle popped into the room. The little house elf had officially appointed himself Aiden and Caelum's nanny after seeing how difficult it was for the parents to juggle two children only months apart in age. He didn't do everything, but the extra hand was, much to Hermione's dismay to admit, nice to have.

"The boys are both in bed ready to be tucked in!" Frizzle said happily.

"Thank you, Frizzle," Hermione said warmly. "Have a good night, okay? And do tell me if it's too cold for you as you sleep."

Frizzle beamed. "It's never too cold. Good night!"

He disapparated and Draco stretched, popping one more piece of fudge into his mouth.

"Alright, let's get them to bed."

"Right. Because we both know they're jumping on their beds instead of laying in them."

Draco grunted in agreement, helped Hermione get off the bed, and then they headed to their sons' room. Despite having plenty of space in the house, Aiden and Caelum shared a bedroom. They'd be in separate years once Hogwarts started, and so it was decided that they spend as much time together now as possible.

Their nighttime routine was fairly simple. Hermione and Draco would either scold their sons for jumping on their beds, or feign ignorance as their boys stopped jumping and scrambled under the sheets. And then there'd be two stories, one read by each parent until they fell asleep. Aiden always fell asleep first, and tonight was no different.

Caelum was pretty much in dreamland by the time Draco finished the book and Hermione kissed him on the forehead as she was accustomed doing before leaving the room first. Draco was right on her heels when Caelum called out to him in a very wide awake tone.

"Dad, did grandma tell you why I did accidental magic today?"

Narcissa did in fact tell him it was because some kid was picking on him in the park, but Draco wasn't going to bring that up over dinner. He was just happy that his son's magic was coming in. Hermione too.

"It was because some big kid in the park called me a 'Deatheater's kid' and I got mad. What's a Deatheater?"

Draco's heart plummeted. His son. His small, innocent son with his curious eyes and angelic face was asking about Deatheaters. Was this honestly his life? Were his children going to be subjected to his past sins now? And not even from adults. From children. He could see it unfolding: all of his former classmates telling their children stories about their childhood and the mean Slytherin who had made their lives hell. The Slytherin who had let in a horde of Deatheaters into their school which led to their Headmaster's demise. How unfair the justice system was that he had gotten off with barely a reprimand and his mother got to live lavishly as her punishment. And, most importantly, to never befriend a Malfoy. It didn't matter if said Malfoy child was also the offspring of the infamous Hermione Granger. A Malfoy is never good no matter what.

"Dad?"

Draco blinked. He didn't realize that he had been staring off while his son was awaiting his answer. The older blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That's a complicated answer, Caelum. Much too much to take in before bed."

"Oh," the little boy said softly. "Tomorrow then?"

No, not tomorrow. Not even the next day or next week. Hell, not even next year. Draco would never be ready to tell him the significance of what being a Deatheater meant. So, what did every parent do in a situation like this? He stalled.

"Soon," Draco told him. "I'll explain it to you soon. It's time for bed now."

"Okay,"

Caelum yawned and rolled over in bed. Draco couldn't have left his son's bedroom quick enough after that. He headed down the hall with rapid strides until he made it to his own room, shut the door and pressed his back against it with his eyes closed.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

He opened his eyes and found Hermione walking up to him with a concerned expression. Draco frowned, took her hand, and led her towards the bed.

"Caelum asked me what a Deatheater was."

Hermione's eyes widened. Yes, she knew the implications of such a question and she sat down next to him. "We never talk about the war. Where did he even hear that word?"

"A child at the park said it," Draco answered. "He called him a 'Deatheater's kid.'"

Hermione gasped. "Narcissa didn't mention that that happened today."

"Either she didn't want to stress us out or she was out of earshot to hear it."

Hermione sadly shook her head. "A Deatheater's kid… I can't believe he was called that."

"I don't know why you're surprised," Draco scoffed. "People may not be gawking at us down the street anymore, but that doesn't mean they've forgotten. The war is a part of history now. It'll be talked about, including the people who were the most influential in it."

"...You're right, it will be," Hermione said after a short pause. "And it should be. History will only repeat itself if we don't know about it, but that doesn't excuse what happened with Caelum. Badgering him just because of his political lineage… It's no different than what you did as a child."

"Oh, yes it is," Draco brooded as he fell back onto the bed. "Because this time what other people tell him would be right."

Hermione frowned. "Draco-"

"You can't convince me otherwise, Hermione." He looked over at her and egged her on. "Tell me, that when they tell our son that I was a Deatheater that it'd be a lie. That when I let Deatheaters wreak havoc on Hogwarts that it'd be a lie. That Voldemort himself lived in the Manor and that it'd be a lie. It would all be the truth, and then Caelum will hate me. Aiden too."

"Don't say that," Hermione admonished as she moved to lay down beside him. "The boys could never hate you. They love you, and nothing that you do now or did in the past will change that."

Draco closed his eyes. Hermione's head was on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her to pull her in closer. "How can you be so sure?"

"Easy," she grinned as she lifted her head up a bit. "Because I married you. I grew up with you as my personal bully and witnessed firsthand what these children will hear from their parents or read in a book. If I can marry you after all of that, there's no doubt in my mind that your sons will love you no matter what."

Draco opened his eyes and stared at his wife. Yes, she was living proof that his past didn't matter to those who cared about him. While that was comforting, at some point he still had to tell Caelum what a Deatheater was.

Damn.

Author's note: Well, I mentioned time jumps, so here we are lol! I may go back with drabbles to highlight Draco and Hermione's life with the boys as babies, but I really need to jump ahead to get to dear ole Lucius and other obstacles.

Hope that you liked it!

-WP

Guest1: Yes! After everything they get their son. If they hadn't oh that would've been horrible. Draco and Hermione deserve so much more than that :)

Megafan1: Thank you! After all they went through, here goes happiness!

blondyspooks: Aw thank you! Honestly this story has been a joy. If I could write it forever I certainly would!

Guest 2: Yup, definitely emotional, but at least it was worth it in the end :)

dramdram613: Thank you! I'm so glad that you like it.

Guest3: Possibly the craziest Christmas one could have, but at least Caelum made it! That's the best present I think!