August 4th, 2018

"Holy hell, you've destroyed the house," Draco said as he made it downstairs.

"That's what I've been telling them," Mr. Granger shrugged. "I tried to stop them, I swear."

"Oh, it's not that bad!" Hermione countered, but Draco certainly begged to differ. He, like his children, had been banished from the house earlier that day so that his wife, mother-in-law, and Frizzle could take part in a mass "deep cleaning" of the whole house. Granted, between Hermione and Frizzle the house was always immaculate, but darn the woman's need to be a perfectionist every four months.

"Not that bad, huh?" Draco chuckled. He was currently in the living room and glanced at each piece of furniture Frizzle was levitating as Hermione used her wand to pass a broom under one and while she and her mother handled two other spots manually.

"By the time you grab the kids from your mother's we'll be finished," Hermione said brightly.

"Ah, I know what that means. 'Get out, Draco, you're ruining my concentration.'"

"I didn't say that."

Draco laughed. "Didn't have to. Make sure they don't hurt themselves," he added to his father-in-law.

"Of course," Mr. Granger nodded and grinned.

Draco whistled on his way to his mother's along the path between their houses. Over the years he and his mother had planted various flowers along both sides of it. There was the hope to put an archway of vines over it at some point, but when Nysa was older. Although not allowed to travel this path alone, she was still a little adventurer, and all three adults liked the idea of being able to see her if she ventured out.

"Mother?" Draco called as he entered the house. As an answer, two sets of feet hurdled towards him followed by another, slower set.

Aiden was laughing hysterically as he trailed behind his brother and sister. He even had to wipe a tear.

Draco tilted his head. "What's so funny?"

"Go on, guys," Aiden said to his siblings with a wide grin. "Tell dad what's so funny."

Both Caelum and Nysa shot him deadly glares before yelling at him. Oddly though, they were yelling, but no sound was coming out.

"Aiden, why can't they speak?"

Aiden couldn't answer him. He was doubled over in laughter again and couldn't get a single word out.

"Aiden,-"

"Sorry, sorry, but it's too good," Aiden chuckled. "Grandma did it. I would've taken the spell off myself, but you know, no magic outside of school and all..."

Draco's brows shot up. With a sigh he told Aiden to wait for him while he allowed Caelum and Nysa to lead him to his mother. They found her lounging peacefully out on the lanai.

"You put a Silencing Charm on my children?"

Narcissa turned in her son's direction, looked over at her grandchildren and then tutted to herself. "Oh, silly me. I completely forgot."

She got up from her seat with her wand in her hand and elegantly strode over. "In my defense, I did warn them. They were having the silliest argument and their shouts were echoing off the walls. Now," she said as she stared at Caelum and Nysa in turn. "No more shouting matches, yes?"

The children nodded vigorously. Narcissa smiled brightly and clapped her hands once.

"Lovely!"

Narcissa took off the Silencing Charm. There was a calm, suspicious silence before Caelum looked down at Nysa and grinned.

"I'm still right."

"You are not!"

"For Merlin's sake," Draco rolled his eyes. He took out his own wand and aimed it at his feuding kids, putting that Silencing Charm right back on. "Your grandmother had the right idea. I'll take it off in fifteen minutes. Until then head home and take Aiden with you."

The children gave soundless groans before trudging off and away from the lanai. Draco shook his head and smiled after them before his mother captured his attention.

"I'm glad that you came over," Narcissa said to her son. "I…received a letter from your father today. His parole hearing is in two weeks."

Draco froze. Two weeks? Two weeks? Had twenty years really flown by that fast?

"We'll have to attend."

We'll have to attend…

Draco thought about what that would be like. To sit in the stands of the Wizengamot, his father in the middle, and waging a battle within himself about whether he wanted him to be released or not.

"Do you think he'll get parole?" Draco suddenly asked, his eyes wide and expectant. Narcissa sighed.

"I don't know. Considering his heavy involvement with the Dark Lord, he may very well have his parole denied."

"Or approved," he countered. "Our involvement very much had the same depth."

"I suppose so, yes," Narcissa agreed. "I just want you to prepare yourself, Draco. Despite my wishes, you've settled yourself into a world where your father is non-existent. You will have no choice but to coexist with him again if he's released."

"Do I have to?" Draco half-joked. When he was met with his mother's serious face he sighed and ran a hand over his own. "Mother, this is the man who's approved of none of the things I'm most proud of in my life. And you want us to coexist?"

"Yes," Narcissa answered plainly. "If not for your own sake, then for mine? If your father is released from Azkaban my family will finally be complete. Now, don't get me wrong. You, Hermione, and the children have kept me going, but I have still been living my life without my husband. Certainly you won't deny me that?"

A mother's plea would always be a child's kryptonite no matter how old the child. With a sigh, Draco nodded. Anything to get that hopeless look off of her face and out of her tone of voice.

Coexist? With his father? That would be the hardest thing Draco would ever have to do.

Draco wasn't himself. Ever since his mother informed him of his father's upcoming parole hearing he'd been a wreck. All meals with his family were stiff due to his silence. He could barely get any work done when he was in the office. Even his dreams were plagued with endless scenarios of what his father being home meant. And last night? A full five days after his mother told him of his father's letter? An official Ministry letter was waiting for him at home giving the precise date, time, and location of his father's parole hearing. Friday, August 17th. One week and one day away from today. It shook him so badly that Hermione had forced him to stay in bed and take off from work for the day. Draco, quite uncharacteristically of himself, didn't even fight her on it.

While he was upstairs resting, Hermione had let her parents take the children for the day so that the house could be quiet. In the meantime, she was nursing a cup of tea while giving her third sigh in the past five minutes with Harry by her side.

"I don't know how to help him, Harry," Hermione mused bitterly. "I've seen him broken before, you know that, but this is… It's different. The idea of having his father home is torturing him."

"Of course it's different. It's family. His father, to be specific," Harry replied with a shrug. "Obviously he's got some issues with him."

"Some? That's an understatement. His feelings towards his father are complicated, tragic, and downright horrible. On the one hand I would love for him to work out his problems with Lucius, but on the other I feel like it'll be impossible. The old man's a complete bigoted, blood purist who detests me and his grandchildren. How can Draco compromise with someone like that?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through is hair. "I don't know. What's worse is that I need him to figure it out so that I know what to do. Hermione… The Wizengamot wants me to speak at the hearing."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "You're kidding. Why?"

"For two, unfortunately, good reasons. One, I'm the Auror Department Head and I can attest to whether I think he'll be a danger to society or not if released. Second, I was in the War fighting against him."

"Damn, those are good reasons," Hermione bit her lip. "But wait, what exactly do you need Draco to tell you to do?"

"Well, less what to do and more or less what to say. I hate to admit and endorse this, but I have a bit of a sway with the Wizengamot. That said, they'll lean on my word and the end result will be because of it. With those circumstances in mind, I need Draco to tell me what to say. To tell me what he wants concerning his father."

"Harry," Hermione pouted. "That's hardly diplomatic. You should say what you feel."

"And run the risk of ruining Draco's life?" Harry countered. "Of keeping him holed up in his bedroom? I can't be the one to make that decision. I refuse."

Hermione had her whole bottom lip between her teeth now as she contemplated Harry's words. She let her eyes drift upstairs to where her husband was and felt her heart ache.

"That's why you came by, isn't it?" She asked as she redirected her gaze to him. "To talk to Draco about it?"

"Yes. The Wizengamot wants my answer by the end of the day." Harry paused before glancing towards the stairs. "Is he asleep?"

"Doubt it," Hermione answered sullenly. "I've been trying to get him to do so since he woke up this morning."

"Alright. I'll make it quick."

Hermione nodded while Harry went up the stairs two at a time, although he was hardly in a hurry to have the conversation on his mind. When he reached the bedroom that his best friend shared with her husband he stalled, his hand in a fist and ready to knock. After countless minutes of nothingness, Harry manned up and gave a rap on the door and waited for a response. When he didn't hear anything, Harry slowly and carefully opened the door. He had expected to find Draco in bed, but he was actually at his dresser, in his hand a piece of parchment with a Ministry seal partially visible.

"Hermione, can you-? Harry," Draco amended once he realized that it wasn't his wife who had come into the room. He folded the parchment and set it down. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Lunchbreak," Harry said simply before closing the door behind him. "I came by to talk about something."

"Did my father die in prison?"

Harry blinked in surprise. An honest inquiry perhaps, but he wasn't sure if Draco was serious in his question or not. "Um, no. I dropped by to tell you that the Wizengamot wants me to speak at your father's parole hearing."

Draco's shock matched his wife's perfectly. "Do they really?"

Harry nodded. "I have to give them an answer about whether I'll do it or not sometime today."

"Why wouldn't you do it?"

"Why would I want to?" Harry countered. "This is my friend's father for Merlin's sake. I wasn't about to say yes with a smile on my face. Not without knowing what you want me to do."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Sorry?"

"I'm torn here, Draco," Harry admitted. "It's… It's like my sorting all over again with two different sides. From an Auror standpoint, your father's been a model prisoner and I truly believe that he'll do no harm outside of Azkaban. But from a personal point of view, he deserves to rot in prison. Running away at the end of a fight isn't repentance. And honestly? I plan on saying both of those things at his hearing.

'However, those are my opinions. Like I told Hermione, my final say is what the Wizengamot will take. I can't give it, I can't do this, until I know what you want. It's your life that it's affecting after all."

Flabbergasted wasn't a word to accurately describe what Draco was feeling. It wasn't that Harry had taken the time to ask him what he wanted. It was more than that. It was the backwardness of it all. They were enemies at one point. Hated each other with as much animosity a single person could handle. And now, some twenty years later, here was Harry Potter in his bedroom, seriously taking his feelings into account.

"Thank you," Draco said after an eternity. "You're right. My father's release is going to change my life. It already has," he added with an inappropriate chuckle. "But not just mine. Personally, I'd love it if my father stayed in Azkaban for the rest of his days. He hates my wife. Loathes the idea that two of his grandchildren are half-bloods and the other is adopted. And I can already hear him in my ear saying something that will set my entire being on edge.

'But on the other side of that, my mother's been the happiest I've ever seen her at the prospect of my father coming home. What kind of person would I be to deny her what she's wanted so that I can keep my sanity?"

It was a rhetorical question, but part of Draco really wanted an answer. Would he be a horrible son in that case? The protective father to keep his own from emotionally damaging his family?

"No one wins either way," Draco sighed. "Not really. It's probably the worst pick your poison scenario I've ever come across."

"Agreed," Harry titled his head. He rocked back on his heels once before asking hesitantly, "So…which poison are you choosing?"

Draco bit the inside of his jaw. "…Say what you have to in order to let him out. Just be prepared to speak on my behalf if I do something to him that gets me arrested."

Harry grimly smiled. "You got it."

August 17th, 2018

"Are you regretting telling Harry to be nice yet?" Hermione asked her husband as she fixed his tie.

"No. Oh, alright, yes," Draco amended as Hermione paused her movements and gave him a pointed look. She continued after his admission and slid her fingers over his shoulders once she was through.

"It might not be as bad as you think," she tried to encourage him. "Your father wouldn't want to do anything to run the risk of losing you."

Draco snorted. "I think you overestimate his level of care for me."

"I think you underestimate it. This is the same man who wrote you for months without a single reply from you. He might not be conventional, but he does care about you."

"Maybe," he said with a profound hesitancy. "But that's not enough. You, Aiden, Caelum, and Nysa are an extension of me. Say he cares about me, fine, but if he doesn't accept you then he doesn't accept me and that is the bottom line of it."

Hermione couldn't hold in her smile. She let her hands on his shoulders travel to his cheeks so that she could cup and caress them. "If he cares even an eighth of the amount you do for me and the children, then perhaps there's a shot. Come on." She took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze before heading towards their bedroom door. "We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

Draco took a deep breath and nodded. He would rather be late, but if his father was going to have any chance at coming home then they needed to be on time. The "they" included himself, Hermione, his mother, and the children. Out of everyone he wished to leave the boys and Nysa at home. However, a united front was suggested in order to show the Wizengamot good faith. How would it look otherwise if the potential parolee's family wasn't in attendance?

Draco and Hermione headed downstairs and walked in on Narcissa prepping her grandchildren on their behavior for the day.

"…and you must be silent the entire time," she was telling them. "That means no feuding with your sister Caelum."

"Oh, but grandma she makes it so easy."

"Put a foot out of line and you're grounded," Hermione said as she and Draco neared. "How's that as an incentive for you?"

Caelum smiled and tilted his head in surrender. "Pretty good, I'll say."

Narcissa grinned happily at that before turning to her son. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Draco lied. "We should go. One of you," he addressed the children, "come with your mother and me. The other two go with your grandmother. We all can't fit in the fireplace."

Aiden trotted over quickly knowing good and well that his brother and sister were on a tight leash by their often-strict grandmother. He went to the fireplace with his parents and watched as his mother took a handful of Floo Powder to get them to the Ministry. This was the first time he'd be going to this parents' place of work via Floo. Usually it would be by the visitor's entrance, but because of what today entailed, the family had been granted direct access from their home to the illustrious building.

The first half of the Malfoy family was, unfortunately, bombarded by the media. Aiden had never seen so many camera flashes in his life. It also unnerved him at how reporters were trying to ask his parents questions upon questions. He knew that his parents were famous, but they were hardly attacked down the street as they were at this moment. It had to have been because of his grandfather's parole hearing that the media bugs had come swarming. Aiden supposed were it not for the few Aurors surrounding them that it would be worse. And even with all the chaos, his parents were handling it well, despite the very apparent scowl on his father's face.

Once his grandmother and siblings came through, the entire family was on the move with Aurors guarding them in the front, off to the sides, and to the back. What was crazy about it was that the reporters and photographers were still following them. Aiden glanced down at Nysa and saw how unhappy she looked.

"We're going to be in a room where they can't follow us soon," Aiden told her. Caelum heard him and also examined his sister's state. He held Nysa's free hand, the other occupied by their grandmother, and gave it a squeeze.

"Aiden's right," Caelum added. "And then we'll get to sit for a while."

Nysa nodded. She continued on with her family, her brother on one side of her and her grandmother on the other until they had made it to a massive room. It was in a circle and a lot of people were in the stands on one half of the room. The other half was where she and her family went to sit. She felt a bit sandwiched in as she sat in the middle of her brothers, but she supposed that it was better than sitting between her parents who were much taller.

Nysa yawned as she swung her feet. She leaned forward slightly and looked to her left where her grandmother had her hands clasped tightly. Down to her right her father looked just as nervous and her mother was whispering something to him. Aiden and Caelum were talking over her head and she brooded about being left out of the conversation. It wasn't long, though, until she found something to say. The large room quieted down with the sharp bang of some man's gavel and shortly after that two large doors opened, the creaking noise they offered echoing off the walls.

"That's our grandpa, isn't it?" Nysa said rather than asked her brothers. There were photographs of him at their grandmother's house and so there was no doubt that she could recognize the man.

Aiden nodded. "Yeah."

"I've got to admit," Caelum whispered, "for a guy locked away for twenty years, he looks pretty good."

"Twenty years?" Nysa repeated with wide eyes. "That's a really long time."

"You can say that again. And if everything goes well, he comes home with us today."

"I sure hope not," Aiden mumbled low enough for Nysa not to hear, but loud enough for Caelum. His brother raised a row to show his acknowledgement as well as gave a subtle nod. They both knew enough about their grandfather (including his prejudices) to have good reason not to be excited about his being set free. And even if they didn't know, the tense expression on their father's face was evidence enough. He was a good sense of character, their dad, and if he didn't like someone then it was probably a good idea to get aboard the same train of thought.

"Am I the only one uncomfortable that dad looks just like him?" Caelum said to his brother. Aiden wiggled his hand and gave a shrug.

"All I know is, I don't think I've been happier than right now to be adopted."

Caelum could understand why. People could pin down who he and Nysa were related to by first glance. Aiden, on the other hand, had to explain that no, he wasn't their friend and that, no, he wasn't some distant relative. Whereas Caelum was quite proud be a Malfoy (something his father had instilled in all three of his children from birth), as he stared at the man who symbolized war, that pride was waning.

"You guys doing okay?" Hermione asked her children. They all looked over at her and nodded. She smiled at that, and then turned her attention to Kingsley as the proceedings began. She was thankful more than ever that Lucius's parole hearing was a closed one and that the media wasn't allowed inside. It would have only turned this into a circus show, not to mention hideous reports in the Daily Prophet by the evening.

She spotted Harry sitting with people that she wasn't personally familiar with, but still knew of them. Families affected by the casualties of war. They would be speaking at the parole hearing also, so it seemed. And as Hermione was staring at them all, she thought of how unfair the odds were against Lucius. Not that she was completely sympathetic towards the man, but as a woman all about fairness, the setup was highly one-sided. But then again, Harry had a powerful voice on his own.

Her eyes settled on Lucius then. A little ragged yes, twenty years having aged him although he could have looked far worse. He had thinned a bit too, but if released that would be sure to change. And as though knowing he was currently under scrutiny, Lucius turned his head. He caught sight of them then, the whole Malfoy lot. Hermione wished to know what he was thinking. On a scale from heinous to unbelievably pleasant, she wanted to know what he thought of the people who sat in this section of the courtroom who were supposed to be "on his side." She would never know, she supposed, and held her breath as one of the people chosen to speak at the hearing got up. Instinctively, she glanced down at the far end of the line of her family for Narcissa who was cupping her hands for dear life.

"...that monster should never be let free."

That was what the first person said. And the second person said something along those same lines. So did the third. As each person took their turn Narcissa felt her hope dying. It was one thing to know what people thought about you, but to hear it first hand? Although having paid five years of her life for her role in the War, it was house arrest. Hardly a punishment. She didn't have the luxury to walk around among the masses and endure taunts, sneers, and harsh glares. Draco did. And although he often told her of his struggles, seeing the reaction of others towards her husband made her think of her son and what he went through. It was heartbreaking. It was even worse now because her husband's release was hanging on every word these people said. Dismal was how the future looked for Lucius at this point. At least until Harry Potter gave his turn.

In all honesty, Narcissa had been a bit nervous to learn that Harry was speaking at her husband's parole hearing. Although having become better acquainted with him over the years, Harry still had a deeper (and negative) connection to Lucius than anyone. What would he say? That question had plagued her mind day and night and now the moment had come. And in this moment...she was floored. No, he didn't deny or downplay her husband's role in the War. Yes, he had been very candid with his personal interactions with Lucius, but also mentioned that he had served his time. Harry even went as far as to reference (although not outright name) other partakers in the War who were free and that the justice system shouldn't be so uneven. It had been remarkable, truly.

Narcissa looked over her grandchildren's and daughter-in-law's heads to catch Draco's eye. He nodded, fully agreeing that Harry had done splendidly. There was just one other person left to speak: Lucius. He had to give an account of what time in Azkaban had done for him and why he should be set free. A stupid thing to have during a parole hearing in Draco's opinion. Any inmate would say that being imprisoned had changed him for the better. Any inmate would say that he was looking forward to being a productive member of society. And, of course, any inmate would say that he wanted to make up for lost time and be with his family.

His family.

Draco's blood boiled at that and even more so when his father dared to look in his direction. At his wife and his children. The same people he would degrade on every visit. How dared he? Draco had half a mind to stand where he was and call him a liar for everyone to hear, but it was too late. The Wizengamot was deliberating. They were voting. And then there were gasps. And five heads to his left there were his mother's sobs.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy," Kingsley's voice echoed off the chamber's walls. "On this day, Friday, August 17th, 2018, with a Wizengamot vote of twenty-nine to twenty-one, your parole has been granted and you will hereby be released from Azkaban prison."

Draco felt his chest sink. He watched Lucius rise from his seat and nearly run to his mother who had gone to the small partition that separated the seats from the courtroom floor. They hugged over it, garnering claps from at least half the room. Draco, on the other hand, stiffened at the sight. It had happened. What had been a bunch of "what-ifs" had become a reality and it made his eye twitch.

Lucius, his father, was home.

Author's note: Aaaaand Lucius is home! I love this chapter because you get to see just how everyone feels about his pending release. There was something else I wanted to include with this chapter, but darn it I wrote far more than anticipated lol. So, chapter 62 then. And, if my planning goes right (but I think you're familiar with how badly I predict story lengths lol) chapter 63 will be the last.

-WP

Replies to Guests

Guest: Yey! Glad that you liked it! Hope that this one met your expectations as well :)

Guest2: Thank you! I'm looking forward to the ending too, but I'm also sad about it *sigh*

naz: Here's the "more!" There are two more chapters after this one (unless my imagination goes off the reservation and makes me write more lol)

Guest3: OMG LOL. You are the person I was looking for to talk about Anna! Hahaha. I honestly imagine Luna as a free spirit, meaning that after everything in the wizarding world was good to go, she took off. My headcannon for her in this (and in general) is that she travelled to unknown places in various countries, often where communication was little to none, making it hard to keep in contact with anyone for extended periods of time. I'd like to think that after Anna goes to Hogwarts she gets back in touch with her friends more frequently but vanishes again as she scampers off to discover/study the next creature with her husband Rolf :).

As for Draco, ugh…. He's a wonderful father. And yes, him with Teddy and Victoire was fantastic lol. And yes, Mclaggen is the son of Cormac :)

Guest4: Thanks so much! That's the fun of writing I think. You've got some fluff here, melt your heart moments there, but Lucius is like that black cloud trying to block out the sun. And look here in this chapter! The cloud!