Chapter 5: Meeting with a Malfoy
Students poured out of the carriages to infest Hogsmeade as though it would disappear forever at any moment. Excited chatter and high-pitched voices did their best to keep a permanent scowl on Severus' face from the moment the first foot touched down off the carriage.
Waking up early in order to escort the excited children from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade after a previous night of late patrols was always the best way to get on either adults of the Snape family's scowling side. Hermione was half-asleep on Severus' shoulder as the carriage came to a halt, stirring only when the jolt of stopping and excited murmuring transformed into shouting and squealing. Even Wayne, who was hardly the scowling sort, managed to look disgruntled with the duties of Hogsmeade chaperoning on this particular morning.
The phoenix chicks, who had been too tuckered out to even peep for food in the morning, had all piled up under their sleepy mother in the nesting box. Even Prince, who normally greeted the dawn with a hungry opportunistic beak, had tucked his head over his mate's back and stayed at home. Wayne, who had half-coherently shuffled by the nesting box on his way to forcibly inject caffeine into himself, deposited Keegan into the nest to sleep in with his siblings. The only chick that had seemed completely eager to greet the morning with enthusiasm was Ember, who excitedly peeped a greeting to every one of her foster parents, friends, friends of friends, siblings, parents, and especially people-who-might-be-bearing-gooseberries.
Pyre, who had seemed unimpressed by her daughter's antics, extended her foot and shoved the happy chick out from under her and to the edge of the nesting box. Ember had peeped and flapped her wings excitedly, attempting to get the attention of the groggy shapes that were shuffling around in the dimness of the morning to no avail. She attempted a trill, a warble, and random string of notes, desperate for a lift off the side of the nesting box.
It had been Julius, who entered in the chambers shortly after Ember's banishment to the edge of the nesting box, that rescued the fluffy dawn-greeter in his hands, stuffed an apricot slice into her gaping beak and transferred her to his shoulder. She had chirped her happiness at being rescued and her excitement at the prospect of a new adventure. Julius answered her by stuffing a gooseberry into her beak to shush her excited peeping before his parents gained enough coherency to start considering avicide. It hadn't happened yet, but there was a first time for anything.
After most of the students scampered off into Hogsmeade followed by a slightly groggy Wayne Mitchell, Julius and Rose remained at the carriages. They stared with hopeful eyes at their parents, too wise to say anything out loud, but too excited not to stare.
Albus, Scorpius, and James waited at a distance, giving the Professors Snape a respectful berth, knowing that the two professors were less likely to commit filicide in their current state but poking the proverbial Hungarian Horntail was probably not the wisest choice of actions.
Ember gave a hopeful peep, causing Julius to clamp his fingers over her beak to shush her.
Hermione took in a deep breath and stood from the carriage and hopped down, pausing to stretch her arms out. She gazed at her children blearily as if trying to remember if they were hers or someone else's random children.
Rose tilted her head and smiled at her mother hopefully, her curly hair framing her face.
"People will think you're…" Severus' voice droned as he stood in the carriage and hopped to the ground. "Up to something." He shrugged his shoulders, causing his outer robe to settle upon him with their customary drape.
Rose and Julius exchanged glances and gave their father their best angelic faces.
Hermione pulled two draw string bags out of her robe and dangled them in the air with a sniff.
Rose and Julius grasped one for the each of them. Coins clinked together in the closed fabric. "Thank you, mum!" they chimed together, attacking her waist with a giant hug.
Hermione grunted, staggering slightly as the world tipped sideways.
Rose and Julius clasped the coin bags in their hands with excitement and scurried off to meet up with Albus, Scorpius, and James. The other three children thumped their friends on their backs as they went arm and arm into Hogsmeade.
Severus engulfed his wife like a feeding amoeba, wrapping his robe around her as he pulled her against himself with an audible yawn. "Mffffmmph," he grunted.
"Mmmmhmmm," Hermione answered, snuggling into him.
They stood still by the carriages for a few minutes before taking deep breaths and pulling away.
"I require tea," Hermione announced with half-closed eyes.
Severus placed his hand to her waist and pushed her forward as he walked. "I'm sure Madam Rosmerta would be happy to oblige us both in the acquisition of said tea."
"Onward," Hermione agreed, pointing herself in the direction of the Three Broomsticks. "To insure the students aren't sneaking mead and firewhiskey out from behind Rosmerta's back."
"Just what we need," Severus mumbled as they walked. "Inebriated students and Hurricane Rosmerta."
Hermione smiled at Severus.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Draco Malfoy stood indifferently at the register as the cashier wrapped his parcel. There was a growing swarm of chattering youth coming into the store, and he sighed to himself. Figures he would come to Hogsmeade the one weekend the students of Hogwarts descending upon the small Wizarding town.
The students passed him politely, but showed no immediate recognition, and for that service from above, Draco was grateful. While he was not, as his wife put it, hardly unremarkable, he did not carry himself the way his father did, nor did he have distinctively long blond hair that screamed "Good morning, I'll be your Malfoy for today." Contrary to his habits back when he was a student at Hogwarts, he was glad to have time outside the spotlight of his family's reputation.
The woman behind the counter handed him his wrapped parcel and Draco bowed his head in thanks, leaving the store and the growing amount of visiting children. As he left the store, a tall young man dressed in black teaching robes was approaching from the street, apparently keeping his eyes over this particular group of students.
The young man's teaching robes told Draco who he was long before he made out his face. He was dressed like a Snape. His godfather and his wife wore what had quickly been associated with their both their name and their profession. Both of them had shaken their heads at the silly talk regarding their preference for black when none of the other professors had seemed so inclined. When Hermione had been questioned on it, since no one had the audacity to ask Severus, Hermione had raised an eyebrow saying, "Do you really see me wearing light colors and pastels while hovering over multiple burbling cauldrons?"
"I see my godfather has gifted you his uplifting fashion sense as well, Wayne," Draco greeted the Potions Apprentice with a roguish grin..
Wayne Mitchell gave Malfoy a smug smile as his eyes flicked back from him to the students swarming around Hogsmeade. "I'll have you know that I do engage in random bits of color from occasion, Draco," he answered with a mock huff.
"Babysitting weekend?" Draco asked with a quizzical expression.
Wayne gave Draco a look right out from the Snape Handbook of Disgusted Tolerance, causing Draco to fan his hand out with chuckle. The two of them had formed an amiable friendship over the years after meeting up during one of the Snape, Malfoy, and Potter combined family outings. Rose, Scorpius, and James had been practically insinuated themselves into each other's family as it was, so such meetings were, strangely enough, commonplace. As the Snape's only apprentice, it was only a matter of time that they would meet.
They chattered for quite some time outside the doors of Honeydukes Sweetshop as Wayne kept a watchful eye on his charges.
A pair of students brushed by Draco as they left the store he had just come out of, and Wayne reached out his arms and snagged them both by the collar and turned them back around towards the store. "You will return to the register and pay for those, Miss Baylor and Mr. Quinn. I don't care how busy the line is. Such behavior is unacceptable from any student from Hogwarts and especially so from one whom I share a House. That will be fifty points from Slytherin from each of you for your disgusting behavior, and you will report to Headmistress McGonagall upon your return to Hogwarts for whatever discipline she sees fit to bestow upon you. Regardless of what she will undoubtedly inflict upon you, I expect five feet of parchment on my desk by our next class on the definition and history of honor, both classical and current. I will be sending owls to your parents detailing exactly why your Hogsmeade privileges are being revoked until the Headmistress sees fit to reinstate them. Do not think they will be any… time… soon, as I'm sure your Head of House will receive word of this very soon." Wayne's face had drained of any emotion but fury, his lips were pursed in a flat line of rage.
"Rosmerta," Draco said coldly. "I have known your parents since before your were born. I know they raised you better than to think you were above paying for what you want, and we both know that you can afford to."
Verbena Baylor's eyes grew wide when she realized that not only had she been caught shoplifting, but her long-time family friend had been witness to her shameful actions.
"Get in there and pay for your trinkets," Wayne growled.
"Y…yes, Professor Mitchell," the two students said, casting their heads down and dragging themselves back into the store. Puzzled gazes came from the students still in the store as they came back into the doors and joined the line.
Wayne's anger diffused slowly as he whipped out his wand and cast a patronus and sent it zooming off towards Hogwart's to inform the Headmistress of what was going on. "Minerva is going to tear them apart," Wayne said, putting his wand away.
Draco shook his head, disgust still on his face. "Despicable," he said. "Her mother is going to rake her through the coals. Her father is going to make her wish the coals were the only thing she had to deal with. They do not like attention being brought to their family."
Wayne sighed. "I can't say I knew her family. My parents never mentioned the Baylors as far as I can remember."
"They keep to themselves for the most part," Draco said quietly. "After the war, they became one of those families that were all too happy to fall through the cracks and slip into anonymity. They were not exactly well known before it, to be honest, but my family has known them since before I was even a thought. They've always been respectable, just not prone to public scrutiny."
Wayne nodded. "I have no knowledge of Mr. Quinn's family either, to be honest. This little escapade, however, will have me delving a little closer into his records, I think."
"You could ask Severus or Hermione, probably," Draco suggested. "They tend to know much more than they ever let on."
It was at this point that Wayne noticed Draco's eyebrows furrow as he looked past Wayne's shoulder, focusing on something that his face was attempting to process. "What it is, Draco?" Wayne asked, turning slightly to look behind him.
"That's Ambre I think, my second cousin once removed on my father's side over by Dervish and Banges," Draco said with a puzzled expression on his face. "She's with… Weaselbee."
Wayne lifted an eyebrow at the unfamiliar name. "Weaselbee?"
"Ronald Weasley," Draco explained, his eyes still focused on the distant target.
Wayne, used to reading the most infinitesimal of tells upon the faces of his Master and Mistress, saw something akin to horror cross the face of Draco Malfoy's face. "Wait," Wayne interjected. "Ronald Weasley as in…"
Draco nodded numbly. While Draco Malfoy's interactions with the Snape and Potter family had become frequent and even welcome thanks to their children, Ronald Weasley had remained somewhat of a social outcast in the fact that the family outings had rarely included Ron in any way.
Ronald Weasley was not, unlike his mother, father, and sister, a renowned and familiar part of their children's lives. He was known by name, addressed as an uncle of sorts, but the familial warmth that trickled through the relationship between Draco's family, the Snapes, and the Potter family had not been shared with Ronald. He had, until now, been a notorious bachelor, unwilling to commit to any one relationship. The reputation was looked upon with combined eyebrow lifts and barely restrained discomfort from the adults of each family during social gatherings and somewhat confused head scratching from the children, who often couldn't figure out why they had a different "aunt" every time they saw him through much of their younger childhood. Even now that their children were old enough to understand that chronically revolving aunts were not the norm, there wasn't one adult member of their combined families that didn't wonder if Ronald Weasley would know commitment if it bit him on the face.
Draco recalled, as he gazed upon his cousin with barely contained horror, that Hermione had mentioned that she pondered on occasion if she had given in to dating Ronald after her graduation, if would have lasted as fleetingly as his other ephemeral relationships. Severus' possessive and disapproving growl had ended that conversation right quick, and he had proceeded to remind his wife of umpteen years that he did not wish to even consider her in a life trapped with "that red-headed dunderhead." As odd as it had first been for Draco to accept that his godfather and Hermione had found something in each other that most wizards and witches dreamed of and never found, he could not imagine them not together anymore. They were as immutable together as magic flowed through the ground he walked upon.
Draco was suddenly quite sympathetic to his godfather's visceral reaction as he watched his cousin apparently enjoying Weaselbee's attention. Surely he was hallucinating. It was like a muggle train wreck. He couldn't stop staring. It wasn't any of his business who his second cousin wanted to be around, yet… the situation was making itself his business.
"Wayne," Draco manage to say.
"Hrm?" the Potions Apprentice said with a half yawn, having reverted from his earlier wrath to sleep deprived drowsiness.
"Severus and Hermione are here with you, yes?" Draco asked.
"Of course," he replied. "I believe they are watching the throng of students attempting to accost Madam Rosmerta's establishment."
"I think I need a drink," Draco said with a twitch of his eye.
Wayne lifted a brow and patted Draco on the shoulder. "I should probably make sure we do not have more trouble brewing inside Honeydukes before Severus gets wind of the entire shoplifting thing. Do give my regards to Astoria and your parents, if you would, please."
Draco shook his head as if to clear it. "I will," he said, pulling his head back to look Wayne in the face. "Mother and Astoria will be happy to hear from you, as usual."
Wayne smiled and nodded, shrugging his shoulders as his outer robe cascaded across him in a gesture that echoed his Master and Mistress. "Have a drink for me," he chuckled, walking into Honeydukes.
Draco ruffled his own hair with his hand. "Maybe two or three," he said to Wayne's back, heading off towards the Three Broomsticks.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
"What?" Severus and Hermione said together as Draco took a large swig of something undoubtedly akin to solvent.
"I saw Ambre with Weaselbee," Draco with absolutely no shame in using Ronald Weasley's long time nickname.
"Cousin, correct?" Hermione said, her eyebrows furrowing as she searched her memory. Her eyes darted as she watched a table full of rowdy students and then refocused on Draco.
"Second, on my father's side," Draco confirmed. "She attended Salem Witches' Institute due to her parents living abroad for business. Her parents traveled a lot. She even spent some years Beauxbatons for a couple of years before they settled for longer in America."
"What brought her back across the Ocean? Parents?" Hermione asked curiously. Severus' index and middle finger were absently stroking the back of her hand, signaling his curiosity, but unwillingness to speak it.
"No idea," Draco admitted. "This is the first I've seen her in years. Back when she was in Beauxbatons, she at least visited the family at holidays, but we haven't heard from my cousin Oleander in years." Draco frowned. "Now that I think about it, he probably withdrew on purpose. One of the last visits I remember was just as things were starting to get bad."
The three of them were silent as memories of the war caused each of them to remember the events in the own way. Hermione's hand clenched involuntarily. Draco looked up, scanning Hermione's face with sympathy. Draco had his own haunted memories from his time under the Dark Lord's heel, but Hermione's physical torture revisited her in a manner his own horrible memories did not.
Severus' hand closed over hers almost immediately, his black eyes darkened as something passed from him to her.
Draco watched as the color drained from her eyes, casting them into a darkness that rivaled her husband's. The soft lines of her face hardened, driving the emotion from her face like the extinguishing of a candle.
It was in times like this, Draco had no doubt that the happy and trusting Hermione Granger, Gryffindor resident know-it-all, and teacher's favorite had been yet one more victim of the Second Wizarding War. As the mask fell over her face, he saw his godfather's dispassionate expression staring back at him through Hermione's face.
After a minute, Hermione closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath and exhaling. When she opened them, her eyes had lightened. Her expression relaxed, and her hand moved to squeeze Severus' fingers with a gentle and reassuring squeeze.
Hermione gave Draco an apologetic smile, and he shook his head. There was no apology needed for such things. They all had things that haunted them.
Severus and Hermione sipped their tea.
"In answer to your question," Hermione said at last. "I have not spoken with Ron in quite some time. The last I've seen him was at the hatching of Pyre's clutch."
"Truly?" Draco replied with some amazement. "I'm sorry, I just thought…"
"That'd he'd have contacted me more?" Hermione chuckled.
Draco made an appeasing face. "Yeah."
"I actually speak more with you and Astoria than Ron now-a-days, Draco," Hermione admitted. "I blame the kids."
Draco gave a wistful expression. "They do get along much better than we did as kids, I will admit."
"What are you saying there, Ferret?" Hermione said with deadpan expression.
"Nothing at all, Granger," Malfoy said with a sniff.
They stared at each other silently for a minute before breaking out into grins. Suddenly, Hermione's face went serious except for a small quirk of her lips.
Draco recognized the expression instantly. It was the look that made him wonder why the woman had not been sorted into Slytherin. Bravery be damned. His godfather was Slytherin and probably as brave as if not more than any Merlin-be-damned Gryffindor.
"Draco?" Hermione purred.
Draco shivered. Hermione was downright creepy when she was channeling her inner Slytherin. Maybe it was good she was never Slytherin when he was. "Yes?"
"Want to do a little spying for us?" Hermione asked, leaning in on the table with her head set across her hands and her elbows on the table.
Severus's expression was dispassionate, but one corner of his lips was turned upward in a very furtive smile.
Draco leaned in to meet her, his Slytherin curiosity piqued. "What sort of spying."
Hermione's eyes flickered as her mouth curled up in a sly smile.
A few minutes later, an white ferret dodged out the door of the Three Broomsticks, dodged legs of passersby, and made a bee line towards where where a certain red-headed Auror and his date were enjoying each other's company.
Severus ran his long and elegant fingers down the back of his wife's neck. "Master Stainthorpe was right about you, Mistress of Ferrets." He pulled her against himself as his eyes continued to watch the students interacting amongst themselves at the Three Broomsticks.
Hermione purred against her husband's chest, burrowing into his robes. She wasn't arguing.