It was a bitingly cold day. If Draco didn't know any better, he would have assumed that Dementors were lurking about, it was so cold. But thankfully for his husband's sanity, there were no Dementors in sight. It would have been awkward, to say the least, to have a Patronus suddenly appear in the middle of King's Cross Station. Though at least they wouldn't have gotten arrested for it, not since the Statute of Secrecy's collapse in 2012. But even though everyone knew magic was real now, such a huge display of power like the Patronus would have attracted too much unwanted attention.

Contrary to the fears of most people, the collapse of the Statute did not involve mass witch hunts (though they did happen from time to time, unfortunately). Though there had been an initial period of extreme awkwardness, and some scattered, sporadic violence, the revelation of a secret society of magic users was met with enthusiasm or at least weary resignation by the majority of Muggles. There were still a lot of problems that needed to be dealt with, but calamity appeared to be out of the picture at the moment. A lot of that had to do with Harry being Minister of Magic, with Draco as his loyal Undersecretary. (Sure, it was nepotism, but Draco didn't give a damn.)

The revelation of magic meant that, in theory, they could have just used a regular platform instead of the hidden Nine and Three Quarters. But, of course, it was traditional. It was no longer hidden by a wall. There were signs leading up to it. Well-meaning but somewhat foolish people like Mrs. Weasley no longer had to conspicuously mention the platform number to make sure certain orphans knew where to go. In the name of security, however, there were guards there to prevent Muggles from sneaking in.

It had taken a very long time for Draco and Harry's adopted son Regulus to manifest signs of magic. (Harry, who had gotten drunk to deal with his silly fears of Reggie not loving him, had suggested naming him Albus Severus. Draco immediately vetoed that idea and furthermore barred him from naming anything ever again.) Draco had even feared Reggie might be a Squib, an idea that he was more or less able to come to terms with, though only with copious amounts of therapy. But lo and behold, Reggie duly eventually did accidental magic and got his Hogwarts letter. Draco kept how relieved he was hidden in the bottom of his soul.

And now he was off to Hogwarts for the first time and it was taking all of Draco's willpower to not burst into tears. Malfoys did not cry! Okay, sure, he was a Potter now, but that wasn't the point. He had dignity! He had style! He was Draco Potter, and he wouldn't let a tiny thing like…like his son leaving him for a whole nine months get to him. Oh, crap, what if he got into danger?! What if it was like Harry's first year in Hogwarts and Reggie had to face down a troll? Or Devil's Snare? Or a Dark Lord? Wow, Harry's first year sucked now that Draco thought about it, and he hadn't made it any better.

"Listen to me, Reggie," Draco said urgently. "If they send you to detention in the Forbidden Forest, I want you to refuse. Refuse, you hear me? Tell them these precise words: 'My fathers will hear about this!'"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just follow the rules, Reggie, and you'll be fine. If they tell you to stay away from a certain corridor so you don't die a violent death –"

"Painful death, actually," Draco reminded him.

"–then just stay away from it, and you'll be fine."

Reggie looked at him with incredulity and fear. "What the hell happened to make you this paranoid?"

"We'll tell you when you're older," Draco said with a smirk. He leaned down and looked Reggie in the eyes. "Hey. It'll be fine. We're joking. Mostly. Now remember, what house should you be in?"

"The one that allows me to become the best version of myself," Reggie recited dutifully. "I just hope I'll be in Gryffindor like Papa."

Harry beamed. Draco very assiduously did not react at all. Though in his heart he, of course, wanted Reggie to get into Slytherin, he'd been very careful not to indicate he'd be disappointed in any way if Reggie got into any other house. Though Draco was 95% certain Reggie would get sorted into Ravenclaw. It was hard to keep his nose out of a book. Though then again, you could have said the same thing about Hermione.

At any rate, houses weren't nearly as important these days, except during Quidditch games, of course. The common rooms in the Chamber of Secrets had gone a long way in deescalating house tensions, and Dumbledore had made a concerted effort to try to encourage interhouse cooperation before his tenure as headmaster ended and he got to enjoy a well-deserved retirement. The point system had been retooled so that points were personally given, not given by house. A certain number of them allowed you to claim some extra credit on the end of year exams.

"We will love you all the same no matter what house you're in," Draco promised. "Even if you're a Hufflepuff."

"Oh, imagine being in Hufflepuff, Draco," Harry said mockingly. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Draco sighed. There were certain things, deservedly, that he'd never live down.

Draco clapped his hands. "All right, let's move."

The three of them managed to breeze their way past the guards onto the platform. The collapse of the Statute hadn't changed the beautifully chaotic atmosphere of the platform. One thing it had changed was that Muggle parents were now allowed onto the platform and they were all looking at the train before them with awe. Draco was taken back to his first time on the platform, about how much he was looking forward to meeting Harry Potter and thanking him for saving his father from the Imperius curse. Well, that hadn't gone quite as planned, to say the least, but it had all worked out in the end.

"Remember to get plenty of food and water," Harry said to Reggie, who rolled his eyes. Harry was such a worrier. "And get plenty of rest too. Don't do anything that will get you killed or, worse, expelled."

"I heard that!" the voice of Hermione Granger called out. Harry let out a grin as Hermione and her husband Ron walked towards them, their own daughter by their side. Rose, the poor thing, had been cursed with both Hermione's uncontrollable hair and the red hair of a Weasley. (Even with all the research Hermione had been doing on magical DNA, she still hadn't figured out why red hair was a dominant trait in mages.) "Harry, Draco, so good to see you again."

Draco gave a polite nod and a smile at the two of them. Ron and Hermione would never be his favorite people, but he still respected Hermione for her formidable intellect and Ron for his unswerving loyalty towards Harry. "Hello, Rose. Gryffindor, I presume?"

"As if you even have to ask," Ron said smugly. Hermione nudged him. "Though, of course, we will love and support our daughter no matter which house she is in," he said with a flat intonation as if he was reading something off a card at wandpoint. Hermione coughed. "Even Slytherin," he added with a remarkably brief look of disgust that, for him, was the equivalent of a shocking display of stoicism.

With the collapse of the Statute of Secrecy, Hermione had become the face of the Ministry of Magic's attempts to try to reintegrate with the rest of society. When not doing an interview on some news channel, Hermione studied magic itself, trying furiously to scientifically quantify the great mystery that was magic. While she hadn't had nearly as much success as she'd hoped, she certainly had ended up having more success than Draco had expected her to. She'd already come up with a magical cure for Alzheimer's, something that ended up buying the magical population a phenomenal amount of goodwill and, Draco speculated sometimes, might have significantly contributed to the aversion of the disastrous war he'd expected.

Ron, by contrast, had followed his dream to become a famous Quidditch player for the Chudley Cannons. Quidditch had turned out to be ludicrously popular among the British Muggle populace. It would never eclipse football, but it was most certainly the second most popular game out there. As such, Ron was more famous than any player before him, spoken in the Muggle world with the same reverence as football players such as David Beckham or Wayne Rooney. In fact, in a fit of supreme irony, he was probably more famous in the Muggle world than Harry was.

"Ginny's doing okay?" Harry asked.

"Oh, she's doing great!" Ron said. "Just got a postcard from her the other day. She and Luna are looking forward to searching Mars for creatures when the colony gets up and running next year." Magic turned out to be eminently suitable to terraforming. It had done magnificent things for alleviating climate change on Earth and would soon allow for settlement on Mars.

Draco gave Reggie a gentle kiss on the forehead. Reggie protested perfunctorily in the manner of preteens everywhere, mage and Muggle, but Draco knew very well he appreciated the affection. "Just relax. Everything will be fine. Headmistress Longbottom won't let anything happen to you. And if she does, she's probably possessed by a Dark Lord!"

"Draco!" Harry whisper-shouted. "Not funny."

Joking aside, Daphne had been one of the best headmistresses Hogwarts had ever had, though Draco had long questioned her sanity for settling for Neville Longbottom as a husband. He trusted her implicitly and knew Reggie would be entirely safe under her care.

"I love you both, dads," Reggie said, and hugged both of them in turn.

Draco watched, tears in his eyes, as Reggie brought his luggage over to the train and soon disappeared inside. Harry wrapped his arm around Draco. "It'll be fine. He's got more sense than both of us put together."

"Well, that's not saying much in your case," Draco pointed out. Instead of defending himself, Harry just kissed him passionately. "I love you, Harry Potter…" Harry beamed. "…Emrys-Slytherin-Gryffindor-Black –"

"DRACO!"