"This is so surreal," said Draco as he held Hermione's hand walking down the pavement. "Being with my parents – my family," he huffed. "Your family," he added, furrowing his brow as they trailed behind the four adults. A sudden pang of fear dropped in Draco's chest as he went silent. It seemed to happen anytime he focused on being happy or musing about finally having what he wanted.

A real family.

Draco knew he was being irrational but couldn't shake the worry that if he finally relaxed into any pleasant emotions, some kind of darkness would be right around the corner, just waiting to take it all away.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked softly

"Perfect," Draco smiled, not wanting to dampen the mood. "Draco Malfoy, the Muggle-born, holding hands with his girlfriend, Hermione Granger," he said, squeezing her hand. "Heading to a Muggle ice cream shop with his Muggle parents. Who would have thought," he laughed.

Hermione smiled before looking over her shoulder at Theo and Hanna, who were a few paces behind, in a deep discussion about the film they'd just watched at the cinema. No one really knew beforehand what the movie was about other than it was called Dragonheart. Hanna kept saying something about the lead character portrayed by a man named "Dennis Quaid", which was why she picked it. And so, given Draco loved dragons, he voted yes to see it over Hermione's suggestion of a film about a girl named Matilda or something.

Funnily enough, the dragon in the film was named Draco, after the constellation, just like he'd been named.

Named by his father.

His real father.

A few evenings prior, Draco had gone on a leisurely walk with his father and had asked why he'd picked the name. Obviously, his parents hadn't much time to decide, and Draco often wondered how his father knew enough about the stars to have come up with it so quickly.

"I'm a scientist, Draco. And even though physics is my profession, I love it all," said Daniel as he looked up into the night sky. "I spent many long nights in the woods trying to find the right elements for my tools. Sometimes the only light I had was the stars to guide me. I studied them. So when Narcissa told me about her family's tradition, I knew exactly what I wanted to name you – Draco."

"We have the same initials, DLM. Lars – that's your middle name," said Draco, looking to the sky as well.

"And yours, Draco. I don't care what that cunt says. You're Draco Lars Malmström."

…

"The Dark Lord Tom. Just say it with me, David. Tom. His name is fucking Tom," said Daniel as they all entered the Grangers' home. The topic of conversation had quickly turned to whether it was safe to send the children back to Hogwarts. Of course, when the adults began asking more questions about Voldemort, Hermione mentioned that the Dark Lord's real name was Tom Riddle, thus derailing the serious matter with Daniel being unable to let it go.

"The name Voldemort is longer than Tom – wonder what else he's compensating for –"

"David –" came Mrs Granger's voice as the teens began to snicker.

"Come on, Mena. That psycho is trying to use a fucking teenage boy – no offence, Draco–" he said quickly, giving Draco a nod, to which Draco simply shrugged. "To let all those Death Mother Fucking Munchers into their school. You can't tell me he doesn't have a fucking cock the size of one of Crooksy's two-inch shits."

Mrs Granger's eyes flashed as everyone went silent, and Draco had to bite his cheek to hold in his laughter. But then her frown turned into a wicked smile.

"One inch," huffed Mrs Granger.

"This is why I married you," said David as he brought Mena into a kiss.

"And he also needs to work on his French," she added. "If Voldemort really wants to be The Flight of Death, he should be called Le Vol De La Mort. Otherwise, it sounds like some terrible news headline. "Vol de mort — theft of a corpse — see page 6B for details," she laughed.

After the conversation descended into chaos, debating why Thomas R. Scales kept a massive snake at his beck and call, the discussion circled back to whether or not it was wise to return for sixth year. Everyone came to the conclusion that, for now, the best course of action was to keep to a regular routine. Daniel insisted he had a plan and that Draco would be safest if he continued with the ruse that he was following Voldemort's orders.

Yet, even though Draco trusted his father, he couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with the idea. Not to mention he still hadn't heard from Snape, nor had he any clue how to keep up the ruse he was following Thomas the Dank Engine's tasks. But in the end, he figured his father was right and that if Voldemort needed Draco to get the Death Eaters into the school, they couldn't enter unless he allowed it. The circular reasoning was a bit dizzying, but ultimately, Draco left the conversation feeling somewhat better.

"I'll see you in the morning," said Draco as he stood outside Hermione's bedroom. "Love you," he added, giving her a quick kiss – that turned into a longer kiss – that turned into –

"Ahem," came the sound of Hanna tapping her foot and smirking as she stood in the corridor.

Draco backed up while Hermione let out an adorable giggle that went straight to his cock. Not wanting to get a fucking erection in front of his sister, Draco quickly hugged Hermione and briskly walked past Hanna, hearing them laugh.

"Oh, like you and Theo weren't doing the same thing two fucking seconds ago," Draco whinged over his shoulder, not facing them. But, of course, the two witches began to laugh even harder. "Girls," he huffed and stalked to Theo's room. "Your girlfriend is a menace," he sighed, shutting the door behind him.

Theo laughed as he lounged on the bed next to Mr Shanks, who seemed impatient for Draco to lie down so the feline could use him as a cat bed. "Your sister is brilliant," grinned Theo, causing Draco to scrunch his nose.

"Well, your sister is – brilliant," Draco said lamely.

"Are we trying to insult one another by complimenting each other's sisters?" laughed Theo.

Draco began to laugh as he changed into his pyjamas. "Apparently."

Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door. Draco quickly pulled it open to see his mother on the other side. "Hello, love," Alma said warmly. "Your father and I would like to speak to you and Hanna for a moment."

"Of course," said Draco, feeling the panic rising in his chest. The seriousness in her tone had Draco shitting bricks as he followed his mother to the sitting room, wondering if this was it. Forget Voldemort's insane tasks – this was the darkness lurking around the corner. He couldn't help thinking that his parents were about to give him some terrible news that would shatter the small bubble of peace he'd been living in for the past few weeks.

"Dad, what's going on?" asked Hanna when she entered the room, also looking slightly alarmed. "Is something wrong?"

Daniel and Alma looked at each other and then back at their children. "We've decided that we've overstayed our welcome—"

"No!" shouted Draco. "You can't leave. You just got here and—"

"Oh, not like that, sweetheart," said his mother, quickly pulling him into a hug. "We just meant we overstayed our welcome in the middle of the Grangers' sitting room," she chuckled. "It's a bit cramped, and I think we need to give Hermione and Theo some time with their parents before the new term."

"Oh," said Draco, feeling silly. "I thought you meant –"

"I've already gotten permission to take a sabbatical," said Daniel, ruffling Draco's hair. "You're stuck with us," he laughed.

"Wait – so, you're not going back home?" said Hanna curiously. "Where will you live? What about all our stuff? Not– not that I want to go back there anytime soon. I'm honestly just wondering," she quickly added.

"For now, we'd like to take you both to the flat in Islington – as a family – sort of have some closure. Your mum is also looking into places in Scotland for when you both return to school. With everything going on, we want to be near. I know those letters you received say that the school has heightened its security and all that shite, but –" Daniel shook his head. "You all know how I feel about magical protection."

"And um – what about –" Draco lifted his left arm where his "Dark Mark" was out in the open. "I still haven't heard anything from Narcissa or Snape," he said softly, looking at the unsavoury tattoo. Thankfully, spending his summer in the Muggle world meant he didn't have to cover it in the heat. But still – Draco hated looking at it – hated being reminded about what was expected of him.

"Given Tommy Boy is relying on you to infiltrate a children's school, I wouldn't worry too much, Draco," said his father, oddly unbothered. "And besides," continued Daniel. "You can trust that your old man will protect you."

Draco nodded as he lowered his arm, still feeling unsure about having to return to Hogwarts. Even though his parents would be nearby, the idea of not being able to see them every day – to ensure they were still around – would be challenging.

"When are we going to Islington," asked Hanna, pulling Draco out of his thoughts.

"We'll stay with the Grangers for one more evening and then head to London tomorrow," said Alma.

"Oh," said Hanna and Draco simultaneously, each realising they'd be separated from their significant others for the last few weeks of summer. Daniel and Alma chuckled, making knowing faces to each other while Hanna rolled her eyes. Draco simply wanted to leave the room, not liking the idea his fucking parents most likely knew what he'd been getting it up to — getting up to — oof.

"Family bonding," said Daniel proudly. "Should be fun."

…

"This is not fun," whispered Hanna as she stood near Draco, watching their mother have a complete breakdown as soon as they entered the flat. "I don't know why they wanted to come here."

Draco remained silent, near tears himself, not wanting to cry in front of Hanna. He understood why his parents wanted to come. Sort of a morbid curiosity – returning to the scene of the crime – seeing you're stronger than your circumstance. Just because his mother was getting emotional didn't mean she was wrong for wanting to look. If anything, Draco couldn't help thinking about how strong his mother was. Watching Alma examine the small kitchen area – the place where they'd said Lucius had murdered the midwife – Draco thought about his father's words.

"Crying doesn't mean you're weak, Draco," said Daniel as he pulled Draco's head into the crook of his neck. "It means you're alive."

Draco took a few steps towards Alma and brought her into a hug. Of course, Draco could easily blame his mum's tight squeeze for forcing the water out of his eyes, but he knew the weight of how truly terrible what happened to him – to them – was hitting him as well.

"My boy," Alma whispered, calming down and giving Draco a kiss on his cheek. "You were so far away for so long," she sighed, wiping one of his tears.

"So were you," said Draco. Suddenly, he felt his father put his arms around them, followed by Hanna joining the family hug. "I can't breathe," he winced, loving every second. After the initial wave of emotion passed, Draco and Hanna silently followed their parents around the small space, taking stock of what they'd left behind.

"It's – odd," said Daniel, trailing his finger along a small bookcase. "Nothing's changed. It's exactly how we left it."

"Narcissa had Wendy, her House Elf, take care of it. She kept it clean and transported all my gifts," said Draco.

"Gifts," huffed Daniel. "I had five fucking minutes to throw shite in a sack so you'd have something to get to know us by until they released you from their clutches," he seethed. "But then that greasy cunt showed up at our door –" Daniel slammed his palm onto the wall causing everyone to jump. "He said you'd gotten magic, so they were going to keep you. Of course, I punched him, and the psycho barely reacted. He said to send more random shite to give you after you turned ten."

Draco felt his face heat up in embarrassment, knowing how much the "random shite" meant to him. "I can give it back – the watch. If you want it – it was your father's —" started Draco, not knowing how to respond.

Hanna stood awkwardly beside Draco while his mother was glaring at his father. "No – that – that's something I wanted to give you. It's – I know it's not shite, and it isn't random. It just felt like we might as well have given you fucking rocks in comparison. As if those items were going to make everything okay. We assumed you would grow up knowing the truth," Daniel sighed. "Not only did we find out you weren't coming home, but he told us the Malfoys were raising you like their own."

Draco felt a wave of shame wash over him, sensing his father's anger radiate throughout the small space. What would his father think if he knew about Draco's past behaviour?

"Maybe we should stay somewhere else?" said Hanna in an unsure voice. "It just feels – I don't know –"

"Heavy," said Alma. Her voice came from the corridor, and Draco could see she was looking into the nursery.

"We don't have to stay here," said Daniel. "I just thought –"

"No," cut in Alma. "I want to stay. This was our home. I just –" she looked around. "I'd like to make a few changes."

…

"I like it," said Draco as his mother painted a strip of pale yellow on the wall. They'd recently returned from a paint shop while Daniel and Hanna were at the grocer's buying food. It didn't take long for Hanna to transfigure most of the furniture, but Alma insisted on painting the flat the Vetenmagi way. Of course, their tools were simple Muggle paintbrushes she and Draco purchased when they went to buy the paint.

Thankfully, due to the stasis charm the Malfoys placed on the flat, there was already electricity. The only issue they ran into was Hanna having to use the Disillusionment Charm anytime they left the flat, given that it technically "didn't exist" and didn't want to explain to the property manager where the random Swedish family came from.

"I like it too," said Alma as she glided the brush along the wall. Then she began to paint silly faces all over. "Our secret," she winked before continuing to paint more doodles. "Come help me." Alma picked up another brush, and Draco took it from her hand before dipping it into the paint.

The first thing he painted was his name – Draco Lars Malmström – before making his own silly faces. Before he knew it, he and his mother had covered the wall floor to ceiling with silly pictures, phrases, and all their names.

"I suppose we should cover it all up now?" said Draco, knowing he most likely resembled the wall with how much paint had managed to get on his person.

Alma looked around and then scrunched her nose. "Nah – I say we leave it as is," she smiled. "Fuck ordinary. This makes me happy."

Draco smiled, but then his eyes nearly crossed when his mother swiped her brush right over his nose. "Oh, come on," he laughed before taking his brush and trying to get her back. Alma was quick, but he finally managed to get get some paint on her. Only instead of her nose, the yellow pigment was dripping from her hair. Draco froze, wondering if she'd be upset when he realised what he'd done.

"Thank you for this, Draco," Alma laughed. "Are you trying to tell me to dye my greying roots?" Draco smiled, but before he could respond, the front door opened as Daniel and Hanna entered carrying sacks full of groceries, apparently in the middle of a heated discussion.

"What's wrong?" asked Draco tentatively, seeing the frustrated look on Hanna's face.

"Dad says I have to actually go to lessons this term," she said with an eye roll. "They never paid attention before! And I refuse to sit with all the fifth years – I should be in sixth –"

"You should have thought about that before breaking into Hogwarts and pretending to be a year younger – Orla," said Daniel.

"Mom," Hanna huffed. "Tell him I'll just do a directed study or something. Draco can tutor me – right Draco?" she said, looking at him with an expectant grin.

"Er— I don't know if I should get involved —"

"Traitor," Hanna said playfully.

"Hanna, your father has a point. And besides, you spent all of last year plotting a murder – you'd need to sit in on the fifth year curriculum," chuckled Alma.

Draco watched in fascination as Hanna argued with their parents – unafraid to upset them. But what was even stranger to him was how they could strongly disagree about things yet – still be on the same side – still care for each other.

After Hanna finally relented her stance, she and Daniel added their own doodles to the few empty spaces left on the walls to complete the masterpiece. Then, they all got comfortable in the sitting room as they ate their dinner before the night ended. They decided to shower from oldest to youngest, so – being the youngest – Draco found himself quietly leaving the bathroom, knowing everyone was already in their beds.

Entering what used to be the nursery, Draco could see Hanna was still awake, lying in the small camp bed in the opposite corner of where his own was placed.

"Did dad really make you live in a home without magic?" Draco asked after he finally got in a comfortable position and simply stared at the ceiling.

Hanna snorted a laugh. "I think he would have preferred that – but no. My room was the exception. I think at some point, he realised he had to accept me – not that he ever didn't accept me. But – I dunno. I guess what I mean is he had to accept that I was a witch and that it didn't mean I was going to be like them."

Draco took in her words, processing what it must have been like for Hanna - growing up knowing the truth. She'd mentioned before how guilty she felt – how her guilt drove her to plan an elaborate skeem to get to Draco – to help him.

"What's she like?" came Hanna's voice again. Draco looked over to see the witch staring at the ceiling, brow furrowed. "Narcissa, I mean," she added, finally looking at Draco.

"Oh," he began, feeling like an idiot. Of course, Hanna would want to know about her birth mother. This whole time he'd been so focused on finding his birth parents he never even considered that his fucking sister would be curious. All the times they'd been together, whether for TWAT or to smoke – usually both – Hanna never asked. She'd always been so focused on helping him – on making sure he was okay.

Draco took a breath, trying to think of the right words to say. "I think she did her best with the life she was born into," he started. "I was angry – am angry – maybe not so much anymore, with how she treated me –" Draco clamped his mouth shut when he heard Hanna sniffle. Looking back over at her, he could see she was crying. "Sorry," he said softly.

"No–" started Hanna, collecting herself. "You haven't done anything wrong," she said with a watery laugh. "It's just hard not to be ashamed, ya know?"

"Why would you be ashamed? You had nothing to do with it," said Draco, genuinely confused. "I mean – I'm the one who was a fucking arsehole – I acted just like him. And I'm afraid that dad will find out how terrible I was and –" he trailed off, not wanting to think about it.

"I think if you were to tell dad the details about how you were raised, he'd go nuclear on the entire Wizarding World," Hanna chuckled. "But seriously, Draco. He knows how you were raised. And truthfully, I think the only person dad hates more than my sperm donor is himself."

"He blames himself for what happened," stated Draco.

"Bingo," said Hanna.

"I don't blame him," said Draco honestly. "And I don't blame Narcissa either," he added. "She had no say in what happened and doesn't have much support." Draco could see Hanna was getting upset again. "And now with Tom's Petty Comeback Tour, she stuck singing backup vocals to his terrible band –"

"Oh, my God, Draco," Hanna snorted. "You're worse than dad," she laughed, throwing her pillow at him. "Did you seriously just say that?"

"Actually, that one was dad's – I stole it," he laughed, throwing the pillow back at her. But then he sat up and looked at his sister with confidence. "You want to know what Narcissa is like – she's cold and aloof but loves those close to her deeply. She's loyal to a fault – so loyal that she's defying her loyalty to Sir Likes Snakes – A – Lot." Draco smirked as Hanna rolled her eyes. But then Draco took a breath and ran a hand through his hair. "And she might have raised me to hate, but she was the first person to show me how to love."

"She sounds — complicated," said Hanna, now lying on her side, seeming to stare at nothing.

"Yes – that would be a more succinct way to describe her," he chuckled. They both remained silent for a few more minutes, and Draco took the opportunity to lie back down.

"I'd like to meet her," came Hanna's voice. "Someday – if possible," she added.

Draco had never heard Hanna speak so timidly, and her vulnerability pierced right through his chest. Narcissa could lose her life for what she's doing for him. And now Draco was beginning to feel guilty for being the reason Hanna would never meet her birth mother. Obviously, he knew it wasn't his fault — he had no choice for the role he was expected to play. Nor did he ask Narcissa to take his place and lie for him. It was then that Draco finally understood how Hanna could still feel so guilty for what happened to him, even though it was illogical.

"I'll make sure you get the chance, Hanna," Draco said confidently. Hanna gave him a slight nod.

"Thanks, baby brother," she smiled. "Now, let's get to fucking sleep."

…

"Come on, Hanna! Just two fucking seconds," whinged Draco, trying to snatch the Galleon from her hand. "You've been messaging Theo the past three days. I just want to borrow it and see how Hermione –"

"Fuck that," laughed Hanna, pushing Draco's chest and holding firm to the gold coin. "Like hell am I going to let you use my Galleon so you can sneak off to the bathroom and ask Hermione how she's doing," she smirked.

"I have needs," he smirked.

"Oh, God – gross –"

"Emotional needs, Hanna. Good Godric, what do you take me for?" he added with a shit–eating grin.

"Well, then I suggest you take your emotionally needy ass to the shower and have an emotional release using your own emotional imagination –"

"Fuck, Hanna. Too far," said Draco, scrunching his nose.

"You started it," she laughed. "I have no shame, Draco. You should know this by now," she sighed as she inspected her Galleon.

"Oh, I know," Draco snorted. "How's Terminator?"

Hanna looked at him with a wicked smirk. "Emotionally needy as well."

"I regret asking now," grumbled Draco as he straightened the blankets on his bed.

"You two ready?" came Alma's voice from the doorway. Both teens looked at each other with furrowed brows.

"For what?" asked Hanna as she pocketed the Galleon.

"Family outing!" said their mother excitedly as she waved her hand for them to follow.

Draco looked at Hanna, who simply shrugged as they followed their mother to the front door, where Daniel was already waiting. "Where are we going?" asked Draco, wondering what kind of adventure his parents had in mind.

"It's a surprise," said Daniel. Hanna quickly cast a Disillusionment Charm over the four of them as they exited the secret flat and the building. Once they reached the pavement, they ducked into an alley where Hanna removed the charm.

"Do they do this often?" asked Draco as he and Hanna followed behind their parents, who were holding hands, leading them to Salazar knows where.

"You mean a surprisingly underwhelming family activity that shockingly ends up being fun because they're insane?" said Hanna with a quirked brow and a knowing smile. "Never."

…

"Fans?" questioned Draco

"Fans," affirmed Alma while Hanna groaned.

"But - fans?" he asked again, still confused.

"Yes, Draco -fans," laughed Daniel.

Draco furrowed his brow as he stared at the sign ushering them into The Fan Museum. Apparently, his parents thought that learning about the history of the Muggle fan was something worth taking hours of their day. It didn't take long for Draco to figure out what the devices were used for, as well as how to use such a thing. And he had to admit that the artistry of all the unique fans was fascinating - seeing different cultures take on such a simple design.

It also intrigued Draco to see how Muggles solved specific issues without magic, much like how the Vetenmagi used tools. Whether conduits of the elements or simply a device to move dirt around, the fans were used to "fan" the air and cool down in the heat. The hand-held fan was said to be traced back to ancient Egypt, and the folding fan originated in Japan centuries ago.

Moving from display to display, Draco began to wonder more about the Muggle/Magical folk relations all those years ago. He knew quite a bit about Sweden from his research and what his parents confirmed. He also knew a bit about Western Africa – at least from what Bidah told him. How many other civilisations have a buried history of Muggles' ability to manipulate the elements? Looking at the larger picture, the Statute of Secrecy had barely been around compared to the beginning of time. And how did time even begin? The Muggles seem to have varying beliefs and-

"Draco?"

"Huh?" said Draco as his head snapped towards his father's voice. "We're heading to the gift shop now – are you alright?"

Draco looked around and realised he'd been staring at a folding fan from the early 1700s that had faded flowers delicately painted on a yellowing background. "Fine," smiled Draco. "Got lost in this one," he laughed, pointing at the display. Daniel looked at the fan and then back at Draco.

"I'm sure you could purchase a replica if you want," he laughed as Draco followed him to where Alma and Hanna were waiting. "Something on your mind?" he asked.

Draco shrugged, not really sure what to say. "It's sad," he began. "I mean – how everything turned out. Entire cultures losing their ability to connect with magic – with the elements."

"It's nature," Daniel began, causing Draco to cock his head. "Not that I disagree that it is sad - it's tragic. But if you look at history as a whole – see the big picture – you'll notice a pattern. The cyclical nature of humans being horrible – magical or not. Times of war — Dark Ages. But then there will inevitably be some kind of Renaissance – a rebirth like a phoenix after its death. Rising from the ashes of tragedy. You know what they say — life finds a way."

Draco nodded in understanding, taking in the weighted statement but quickly narrowed his eyes. "Did you just quote Jurassic Park?"

"That I did," laughed Daniel. "I guess I was so preoccupied with whether or not I could throw in a Jurassic Park quote I didn't stop to think if I should," he smirked.

"Merlin," laughed Draco as he rolled his eyes.

"Come on," said Daniel cocking his head. "Let's find the girls and go get something to fucking eat."

…

After the eventful day at the Fan Museum, followed by an argument on where to eat, followed by everyone apologising, saying they were "just hungry," Draco found himself with the rest of his family lounging in the flat and, of course — watching Jurassic Park. Draco smiled seeing his mother brushing Hanna's hair while his father tinkered with some of his gadgets, having promised it was "safe to do indoors."

Of course, Draco could dwell on the fact that this could have been his whole life – that he'd missed so much. But if the terrible tragedy had never happened, who knows what would have happened to Hanna? He was also genuinely happy with his friendships – with Hermione. The subtle pang of fear once again entered Draco's chest, but instead of running from his happiness, he pushed past his fear of the unknown, not wanting his fear to steal any more of his joy.

"I love you all," Draco suddenly blurted, feeling his face heat up, not understanding why telling his fucking family he loved them was embarrassing. Daniel put his strong arm around Draco's shoulder and brought him to his side.

"We love you too, Draco. So much," said Alma, tearing up.

"Yeah, Draco. Even if you're annoying," smirked Hanna. "I guess you're alright for a kid brother," she winked, causing him to laugh.

"See," said Daniel confidently. "Family bonding. Told you it would be fun," he smiled.

Draco was about to say something but was interrupted by a thud from the window. His father was on his feet in seconds while Alma instinctively grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him from the sofa to stand behind her. Hanna was also on her feet, wand drawn.

"What is it?" asked Alma warily.

Daniel cautiously drew back the curtain to peer outside, and Draco relaxed, seeing his father's posture also go less rigid. "It's a fucking owl with some post," he said, opening the curtain. Draco's eyes widened when he saw the creature.

"Narcissa," Draco said softly, glancing at Hanna and then back at the owl. "It's Narcissa's owl."