Author's Notes:
Here's Chapter 135 for you!
Happy New Year!
New Upload Schedule - 1st, 11th, 21st of every month.
I had this chapter ready to go for the 11th, then my new writing software crashed and I lost 6,000 words that had taken me two weeks to write. My 2022 plan is to write little and often instead of stressing out by trying to write thousands of words in one day.
I would like to add, The Marriage Decree just reached 1,000,000 views on this site. I'm just shocked, thank you all so much. I really appreciate you all taking the time to stick around to read each new chapter.
Love, DW
P.S. Enjoy x
Sophie huffs, turning over in her bed, covering her head with her duvet. A few seconds later, she is too hot, so she throws and kicks the duvet to the end of the bed. After finding no comfort, Sophie kicks her legs against her mattress in a tantrum. Afterwards, she listens carefully in embarrassment, hoping she hasn't woken her dad up in his room next door. The second hand on the clock hanging from her bedroom wall had ticked over into the seventh of July a whole five minutes ago. She had yet to hear the tell-tale sound of feathers fluttering or a beak tapping against the glass.
A chirp from across the room sends Sophie clambering out of bed and pressing her face expectantly against the glass of her bedroom window. However, her view of the darkened street outside is unobscured.
"That's not funny, Athena!" Sophie stomps back to bed. "I'll give you back to Draco." She threatens.
Athena shakes her feathers and squarks, unimpressed by Sophie's empty threat. Both of them know Draco is never getting Athena back.
"Sorry, come here," Sophie pads across her carpeted room to unlatch the cage.
The not-so-tiny-bird soars over to Sophie's headboard, perching where she usually waits on a night for Sophie to complete her homework.
Sophie checks her clock, "Why is time so slow?" She groans, throwing her head back. "It's not even quarter past twelve yet." Suddenly, a great idea forms in her head. "Athena, what if I sneak downstairs and call Hermione on Dad's phone." She stands, tiptoeing across the carpet, only for her bedroom door to creak loudly as she pulls it open.
"Back to bed, Sophie," her dad calls down the hallway.
Quick as a flash, Sophie closes her door, diving back into bed and pulling the duvet up beneath her chin. Her eyes flicker across the glow-in-the-dark constellations her father had painted on the ceiling when she was five years old, and now she's eleven, just. She begins to count each star and makes it to one-hundred and forty-two before a timid knock at her door distracts her.
"Sophie?" Her dad gently speaks through the door.
"Yeah?"
"Let's go downstairs," he suggests.
Sophie frowns, wondering in confusion why her dad was allowing her to go downstairs after midnight on a school night, but she doesn't argue. When she opens her door this time, it doesn't make a noise.
"Come on, Sophie!" Her dad smiles, gesturing for her to follow him downstairs.
Sophie perches on the countertop beside her father in the kitchen, watching him mix two mugs of hot chocolates with marshmallows.
"Don't tell your Aunt Sarah," he warns, passing Sophie's mug over.
"Thanks, Dad," she takes a sip. "Perfect."
"Happy birthday, Sophie," her dad smiles sadly, and they clink their mugs. "Let's go into the living room." He helps his daughter down from the counter.
David sits in his usual armchair in the living room while Sophie lounges across the couch, facing him. He watches as his daughter uses a spoon to scoop out the marshmallows while she waits for the drink to slightly cool down. His daughter had hated hot drinks since an unfortunate tongue burning incident when she was seven years old. He's struggling to comprehend how his little girl can be eleven years old already.
"I can't believe your eleven already," he mutters.
"Not yet," Sophie smiles. "We have another fifty-two minutes."
"Oh, I remember, twenty-two minutes after one in the morning." He chuckles at the memories. "You were a day late, but you were still so small. I didn't hold you for two days; I was too scared of dropping you." He admits, smiling across at his daughter, who's avoiding his eyes. "What's the matter?"
Sophie's eyes flicker up, catching his gaze and holding it there, "What was it like? After I was born, and Gwen was here." His daughter asks softly, careful not to push him too far and considering his dislike for her mother.
"It was difficult, Sophie," he doesn't lie. "Gwen was recovering in bed for nearly two weeks while I took care of you because the moment you were placed in your cot, you would scream the house down."
Sophie giggles, "Really?"
"Yes, you'd only settle in my arms," he sighs sadly, missing the days his daughter would come to him for a comforting cuddle. "That last week, before Gwen left, she would disappear for hours at a time, every day. She never told me where she was going, although I assume she was going into the magical world. I thought she was planning on leaving me and taking you with her," he frowns as those old feelings of terror creep back into his stomach.
"Did she try to take me?" Sophie questions.
David shakes his head, "I never thought my relationship with Gwen would last very long. Then you came along, and I thought we could give being a family a good go. Alas, it wasn't to be; Gwen left in the middle of the night, with only a note on her pillow to inform me. As soon as I read it, I raced to your room, terrified I'd find you gone, but you were right there, asleep in your cot. I've never felt such relief as that night," he tells his daughter.
"I'm glad it happened the way it did," Sophie tells him.
"You don't wish you could have grown up in the magical world?" David asks a question he had been too scared to ask his daughter since discovering her magical abilities.
"It would have been cool, but this way, I get the best of both worlds. I got to grow up in this world with you and then learn magic in the wizarding world," she grins.
"I'm going to miss you, Sophie," David states.
"Dad, you'll see me at Christmas!" She rolls her eyes.
"I'm going from seeing you every single day to every holiday." He sighs, not wanting to overthink how he feels like losing his daughter to the magical world.
"I'm going to write all the time," Sophie sits up and crawls to the side of the couch, closer to her dad.
"I know you will."
"And I'll be with Hermione and Draco all the time, so maybe they can bring you to school so that we can have dinner in their rooms," Sophie suggests.
"I'm sure not every student will get those opportunities; it's probably best for you to follow the rules," David tells her.
"Dad, that's boring." She complains.
David smiles, "I trust you not to get into too much trouble."
"So, I can get into a little trouble?" Sophie asks.
"Just a little." David holds his thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart.
"Awesome," Sophie sits back against the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. "You know, I was thinking, when I'm gone, maybe you can get a girlfriend, so you're not lonely."
David stares wide-eyed at his daughter, "I'm not going to be lonely. I've got plenty of family."
"You haven't had a girlfriend since Gwen; you need to get out there," Sophie tells him.
David scoffs, "Sophie; I don't need or particularly want a girlfriend. I'm excellent on my own."
"I don't want you to be on your own, though; you get sad when you're alone for too long," she solemnly looks across at him.
"Sophie, you don't need to worry about me," he assures her.
"Well, at least try to make some friends," she suggests.
David sighs, "Fine; I'll try to make a friend."
"Good," Sophie smiles. "We should both try to have a new friend by Christmas."
David knows his daughter has struggled in the past to make friends, but he's confident, once she's at her magical school, surrounded by people who are just like her, she'll fit right in and make friends. "You're going to have so many friends, Sophie."
"I'd rather just have one or two good friends." She shrugs. "Is that a deal?" She holds her hand out. "We will make a friend by Christmas."
David chuckles, holding his hand out to his daughter, "Deal." He shakes her hand.
Sophie checks the time and sighs deeply, "Maybe the letter doesn't arrive until the time you were born."
"What's that?" David questions.
"The letter that invites you to Hogwarts, it arrives on your birthday," Sophie explains.
"Oh, is that why you can't sleep?"
Sophie nods.
"Maybe it doesn't arrive until someone is awake to send the letter," David suggests. "You might not receive it until nine o'clock."
Sophie's face falls, "I'll be at school then. Unless I have the day off today?" She asks hopefully.
David laughs, shaking his head, "I don't think so, Sophie."
"Please, we've done our end of year exams, not that it matters for me," she huffs. "We've only got two weeks of school left, so we'll just be playing games, doing PE or watching a film. It's a waste of my time. I should be at home waiting for my letter." She tries to convince him.
"I've got work too, Sophie," he reminds his daughter.
"Fine," she resigns herself to a day of school.
"We should head back to bed soon," David mentions. "We've got to be up at six o'clock."
"For my surprise birthday breakfast?" She asks, smiling sweetly at him.
David laughs a sigh, "Yes, for your surprise birthday breakfast."
"I overheard you on the phone with Hermione," Sophie admits. "Who's coming?"
"It's a surprise," David teases.
Sophie glances down at her half-drunk hot chocolate, "Is Gwen coming?"
David's heart feels heavy, "Unfortunately, she has a meeting this morning, but she is in Britain, so you might get to see her later in the week."
Sophie shrugs, "It's fine; I'm not bothered."
"It's alright to feel disappointed," David says.
"I know," Sophie agrees, but her voice breaks.
"Come here," David places his empty mug on the floor beside his armchair, then holds his arm out to comfort his daughter.
Sophie smiles shyly, placing her mug on the coffee table and throwing herself at her dad, who engulfs her in his arms.
"Tell me what's the matter," David prompts her.
"I just feel like Gwen doesn't even care," she slowly admits.
"She does care about you," David tries to reassure her. "She practically begged me to introduce her to you."
"If she cared, she'd try harder," Sophie shrugs, her face buried in his dressing down.
"Is this about her missing your birthday breakfast?"
"Just in general," Sophie comments. "She keeps asking me to go to her Quidditch matches, but they're so boring. I've been to three matches, and they're the same, just as boring as any other sport." She explains.
"Quiddick is something Gwen is passionate about; she just wants to share that with you. Like how you ask her to go into those bookshops every time she takes you down Diagon Alley," David tries to explain.
"You know, I didn't even take a book with me to those Quidditch games because I wanted to pay attention, so we'd have something to talk about, but it was so boring," she complains. "I did try."
"I know you did; you always do," David agrees with her.
"I feel guilty because she doesn't feel like she's my mum; she feels more like another aunt or something. Someone I have to see sometimes because she's family, like aunt Louise," she admits. "Aunt Louise probably knows me better than Gwen, and I hadn't seen her since before she went to prison."
"Okay, we don't talk about Louise," David reminds her.
"Only to Grandma because she's embarrassed and disappointed," Sophie points out.
"You're too clever for your own good sometimes," David mutters, thinking for a moment about the right way forward after Sophie's admission. "Sophie, I've always left Gwen's visitations up to you. Just because she's your family, that doesn't mean you have to see her. If you want to see her less frequently, or not at all, that's completely up to you, and you shouldn't feel guilty about that decision. Gwen left you, and you never got to bond with her as mother and daughter. I had hoped that bond would come with time, but I feel perhaps your feelings towards Gwen are partial my fault. I haven't exactly spoken kindly about her the past eleven years." David rubs his face.
"It's not your fault; you barely talked about her until she came back, then you tried to be nice about her," Sophie tells him. "I don't want to not see her; I just want her to try harder to be my mum," she explains.
"Perhaps if I spoke about her more often when you were growing up, you wouldn't feel this way now," he thinks aloud. "Although, I never imagined her ever returning, so I didn't think you needed to know much about her. She had left us both, and it hurt for a long time." He admits, then shakes his head. "What are you most looking forward to about your birthday?" He asks, changing the topic.
"Seeing Hermione and Draco, it's been ages since I saw them last," Sophie says.
"It was just over a month ago; they're very busy with Scorpius and the goings-on of the magical world."
"I know," she rolls her eyes.
"Hey, less of the attitude," David wraps his arms around his daughter, squeezing her tight against his chest.
Sophie laughs, leaning into the hug and returns the familial embrace. A sudden, repetitive beep from David's digital watch announces the time to be twenty-two minutes past one. It doesn't feel like they've been sitting downstairs for an hour, but time does fly.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of his daughter's curly hair. "Happy eleventh birthday, Sophie," he whispers, taking comfort in just holding his daughter as he used to eleven years ago.
As he gets lost in his thoughts, he feels his daughter's body fall limp as she falls asleep in his arms. He softly readjusts her to be more comfortable, then settles back, fully content to spend the night in his armchair, not wanting this moment to end.
That long couple of days that Draco thought was ahead of him, while Pansy and Ron sorted their relationship out, turned into a long month. Although, as Hermione frequently reminds him, she only told their friend she could stay for a couple of days; it had been Draco who had extended their stay to 'as long as you want'.
After a week, Draco had returned from lunch with Blaise to find the spare bedroom Pansy had been staying in, the one next to Scorpius, empty. He had prematurely celebrated until Hermione called him downstairs into the basement. He climbed down to discover the living space had been transformed into another double bedroom. The actual bedroom had been turned into a nursery for Philip and Phoebe. Draco had stared wide-eyed and questioningly at Hermione, who returned an accusative stare.
That had been a month ago. Now, it felt as though Pansy would be living with them until the twins went off to Hogwarts themselves. Although, Draco had to admit that it wasn't all bad. Since Hermione and himself were still on parental leave, it meant they were often left to babysit Philip and Phoebe, allowing Scorpius plenty of toddler interaction. In the past month, Scorpius had taken his first steps, which had quickly developed into a run-like waddle as he attempted to chase after his older friends. Scorpius had even started babbling more distinctive sounds and copying the toddler-like conversations Philip and Phoebe often had with each other.
On the morning of the seventh of July, Draco awakes to the cries of Scorpius in his room across the hall. However, by the time he pulls on a dressing gown and wanders across the hall, he's gone. Draco sighs, knowing Mitty has gotten there before him. He finds Mitty sitting in a circle in the living room with Scorpius, Philip and Phoebe, all giggling away together.
"What's happening here?" Draco smiles, crossing his arms, feigning being crossed.
"It six o'clock," Mitty answers.
Draco waits for further explanation, but she doesn't clarify, "Okay, Pansy's not at work until quarter to eight."
"It Sophie's birthday breakfast in one hours," Mitty reminds him.
Draco can't believe he forgot. He'd bought her a wizarding folktale book just last week. "Yes, I know. We've still got an hour," he shrugs. "Anyway, I'm going to shower and change," Draco leaves.
On his way past the basement door, he knocks, cracking it open and shouting down the staircase, "Are you awake, Pansy."
Pansy groans, calling back, "Yes."
Draco pauses a moment, smiling when he hears her footsteps walking towards the bathroom. He shakes his head as he carries on upstairs. Entering their bedroom, Draco gently shakes his wife awake and kisses the top of her head.
"What time is it?" Hermione mumbles, her face scrunched up.
"We're meeting everyone for breakfast in fifty minutes," he explains, collecting a towel from their radiator.
"I have not missed early mornings," Hermione sighs, opening her eyes.
"I'm taking a shower," he tells her, disrobing on his way to their en-suite until Hermione makes to stand.
Draco notices his wife stumble and reach out for their bedside table. "What happened?" Draco asks in concern, turning back towards her.
"Yeah, I've just got a headache. I'll take a potion before we leave," Hermione brushes his concern off.
"Sure?" Draco places a hand on her wrist.
"I'm fine," Hermione smiles, kissing the side of his cheek. "Go get your shower."
In the kitchen, Pansy is already brewing a pot of coffee, dressed in a grey pencil skirt, white shirt and grey robes, ready for work.
"Morning, care for a cup?" Pansy asks.
"No, I've got a bit of a headache," she admits, rummaging in their potion cupboard for a headache, one Draco had made a few weeks ago.
"Are you pregnant again?" Pansy asks, leaning back against the counter, scanning her body.
Hermione scoffs, "Why is that your first thought?"
"You got headaches all the time in months leading up to your pregnancy announcement," Pansy explains.
Hermione pauses, staring wide-eyed at the potion bottle in her hand, "Did I?"
"Yes," Pansy rolls her eyes, filling her cup up with boiling water from the kettle. "I remember because it stopped after your first trimester, which is when your sickness began."
"I can't be pregnant; Draco and I are safe," Hermione shakes her head, downing the headache potion. However, there is a feeling of worry in the back of her mind that she can't quite push aside. "What if I am? Draco and I agreed to wait five years until we tried for another until we'd settled into family and work life." She mutters, stepping closer to Pansy.
Pansy chuckles, "Just take a test. Better safe than sorry," she shrugs.
"Do you have one?" She quietly asks
"Of course I do," Pansy smiles. "Check my bathroom."
"Your bathroom?" Hermione questions teasingly.
Pansy winks, "Yeah, my bathroom," she takes her cup of coffee into the living room, where her children are screaming with joy about something.
Hermione hurries down into the basement, eyes scanning the mess of Pansy's current living situation. She shakes her head, deciding to ignore the clothes on the floor, focusing on her search for a pregnancy test. She discovers the tiny bottle in Pansy's toiletry bag beneath the sink. She's never taken one before, not a wizarding test, at least. When she and Draco had been trying for Scorpius, she had preferred to take the muggle pregnancy tests. She should have asked Pansy for instructions or moral support. She wishes Draco was there with her, as he had been for every previous test. She sits on the toilet to take the test, placing it above the sink's shelf while washing her hands. She knew it would take ten minutes to develop, in which time Draco may become suspicious. Therefore, she takes herself back upstairs to change into a pale blue dress for Sophie's birthday breakfast.
"How are you feeling now?" Draco asks, pulling his shirt on as he exits their bathroom.
"Much better," she says truthfully. The headache potion seems to have taken effect, but now her stomach is a bundle of nerves.
Draco places the tips of his fingers against her forehead as he brushes her hair out of her face, "Good. I don't like seeing you ill." He tucks the hair behind her ear. "Is Scorpius ready?"
"Mitty's already dressed him," she informs
"I'll go help Pansy with the twins then," Draco leaves, finishing the buttons on his shirt as he walks towards the stairs.
Scorpius is sat in the playpen in the living room, fully dressed and ready for the breakfast birthday party.
"Hi, Scorpius," Draco coos.
As soon as he hears his father's voice, Scorpius turns around, pulling himself up onto his feet by the playpen bars.
"Look at you on your feet. What a clever boy!" He praises his son, still amazed his baby boy is already standing.
Scorpius starts bouncing on his feet, excitedly babbling, "Duh, ahh."
"So close, keep trying," Draco picks him up out of the playpen.
"Duh, duh, bah," Scorpius claps his hands.
"It's okay, we'll get there," he kisses the top of his son's head. "Where's Philip and Phoebe? Are they getting dressed too? Shall we go help, Pansy?" Draco asks, carrying his son down the basement stairs.
Lying on the double bed in the living room of the basement apartment are Philip and Phoebe, kicking their legs as their mother attempts to dress them.
"Let me help," Draco offers, bending to place Scorpius on the rug, only to find it covered in clothes. "Is this how you live?" He asks, taking out his wand and sending all the clothes back to their place in the chest of drawers.
"Not all of us can be neat freaks like you two," Pansy frowns, trying to pull a pair of tights on Phoebe. "I know you don't like them, but all your trousers need washing." She tries to appease her daughter.
"No!" Phoebe screams, kicking her feet.
"Just charm a pair clean," Draco suggests.
"Do you think I, Pansy Parkinson, paid attention in household charm lessons?" She glares at Draco. "I didn't exactly expect my life to turn out like this." She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. "I thought I'd marry a rich pureblood who would have his house-elves take care of all that." She mutters.
"Instead, you married a-" before Draco can finish, Pansy interrupts with, "an idiot who hasn't seen his children in five weeks."
"And who's fault is that?" Draco asks, finally placing Scorpius on the rug and walking into the bathroom searching for a pair of Phoebe's trousers in the laundry hamper. "You refuse to see him, and you only allow the twins to visit Molly and Arthur during the day when he's at work." He chastises her, finding a pair of white trousers in Phoebe's hamper.
"Shove off, Draco," Pansy shouts. "Who's side are you on?"
"Yours obviously, but as a father, I'm sure Ron is positively miserable and regretting every one of his life's mistakes that lead to this." Draco places the trousers in the sinks, casting the clothes washing charm and then drying charm. "I don't compliment Ron often, but he's a good father. He deserves to see-" Draco pauses, seeing a potion bottle on the shelf in front of him.
"Maybe he shouldn't have admitted to being in love with one of my friends," Pansy snaps, walking into the bathroom with Phoebe on her hip. "Are you done with those?" She snatches the white trousers out of his hand.
"Are you pregnant, Pansy?" Draco asks, his voice turning soft as the amount of stress Pansy must be under right now becomes apparent.
"What?" Pansy laughs harshly before remembering just ten minutes ago. "Oh, shit, is it positive?" She asks, pushing Draco aside to see the now purple liquid in the glass bottle. "Purple means positive," she pales slightly. "Don't tell Hermione," Pansy quickly tells Draco.
"Why not?" He frowns. "She'll be nothing but pleased for you. I know we've been teasing you a bit about still staying here, but you are more than welcome to stay as long as you need." Draco reminds her. "I would recommend telling Ron, though."
"No," Pansy grimaces, covering her face with her hands, wondering what's the best step to take right now. "I hate dilemmas," Pansy groans. Does she lie to Draco to protect Hermione's secret? Or does she tell Draco, ruining the trust she's built with Hermione? Draco was her friend first, but Pansy knows she would prefer to find out herself first if it were her.
"What are you talking about?" Draco asks.
"It's just," Pansy bites her lip. "I'm in a shit situation right now." She vaguely states.
Draco frowns, "Yeah, now you need to fix it. This separation has gone on so long that both of you are at fault. Just go to the shop and talk to him." He sternly tells her, but when she just rolls her eyes and walks out of the basement, he follows her. "I'm serious; you saw how Ron changed when you told him you were pregnant with the twins," Draco reminds her.
"Alright," Pansy faces him. "I can't do this anymore. Don't comment on my marriage, yeah?" She tells him. "That pregnancy test, it wasn't mine." She admits.
"What do you mean it's no-," his face falls still as realisation dawns on him. "Oh!"
"Yes, oh!" Pansy turns back to finish dressing Phoebe. "I doubt she knows since she just left it in there."
"She doesn't know." He repeats.
"You should tell her," Pansy nods.
Draco coughs in surprise, "How do I tell my wife she's pregnant?" His eyes suddenly widen as the realisation sinks in. Draco lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. "Oh Merlin, what have we done? We're so safe, though." Then he remembers the one time they were. "Our anniversary?" He whispers.
"Alright," Pansy cringes. "I don't need to know the details, daddy."
"Fuck off, Pansy," he tries to snap at her, but his feelings aren't there. "We were supposed to wait five years. Minerva is going to kill us. We haven't even returned from our first parental leave." He continues to whine.
"How about being happy that you've got another child on the way or letting your wife know that she's pregnant. I'm sure she's a nervous wreck upstairs, wondering about the results." Pansy tells him, walking upstairs.
Draco follows, "And how exactly do I do that?" He asks.
"Do what?" Hermione asks, joining them in the foyer after descending the stairs.
"Nothing," both Draco and Pansy answer.
"Okay," she frowns as Draco quickly walks past her.
"Are we ready?" he asks, holding Scorpius in his arms.
"Yeah, just give me a minute," Hermione says, eyes flickering to the basement. "I need to check something."
Draco urgently checks his watch, "We've only got ten minutes before they get to the Leaky Cauldron, and we're supposed to meet Blaise first." He reminds her of their schedule.
"Let's just go," Pansy complains, pushing Draco towards the floo room at the back of the house.
When Hermione tries to follow, Pansy turns around and nods down towards the basement, "Go check," she mouths as Draco floos behind them.
Hermione nods, rushing towards the basement.
After a minute of standing alone in The Leaky Cauldron with Scorpius, Draco realises Hermione must have gone to check on the pregnancy test. He feels dazed as he stands rocking his son in his arms. He's only ten months old. Goodness, it's all too much for him to process.
Suddenly, the fireplace in the pub lights up, and out steps Hermione, with Philip in her arms. As soon as they lock eyes, Draco knows that his wife knows, as her mouth slightly parts, wanting to say something, but she's lost for words.
"Mmm," Scorpius struggles in Draco's arms, attempting to reach for his mother.
"Oh, hi baby," Hermione forces a grin, reaching out to take her son in a much-needed embrace and handing Philip over to Draco.
Draco watches, his chest full of a multitude of emotions as his wife cuddles their son, closing her eyes to smell his curls. Suddenly, he feels ready to take the world if Hermione is by his side. They'll get through this together.
"What's that face for?" Hermione asks curiously, glancing at him.
"I love you," he returns her smile, pulling her into a soft hug.
"You know?" She asks breathlessly.
"I know," he confirms, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
"How did-" She begins, but Pansy arrives with Phoebe.
"Come on, where's our table? I'm starving." She walks past them towards Tom, the barkeep.
Tom points over to the back of The Leaky Cauldron, "I've set you up a table for ten over there."
"Thanks, Tom," Hermione smiles. "Both Sophie's dad and I appreciate it." She thanks him, leading their group over.
Tom has already spread three high chairs around the table, so the group's babies can be sat around the adults. They all place the child in their arms in one of the high chairs, then situate themselves in any of the empty seats. Hermione pulls Draco down beside her, smiling shyly up at him as she takes his hand, gently calming him down as she caresses the back of his hand.
"How late do we think Blaise is going to be?" Pansy questions jovially as she pulls out some toys to occupy her twins.
"Say that again," Blaise whispers into her ear, having sneaked up behind them.
"Merlin, Blaise," Pansy punches his shoulder hard. "Are you trying to kill me?"
"Obviously," Blaise smirks, sitting beside Philip. His forehead is glistening with sweat, and he looks to be out of breath.
"What's wrong with you?" Draco questions him.
"I had to run here," he sighs deeply, catching his breath.
The group wait for him to clarify, but he doesn't
"Why?" Pansy asks.
"I told Benji I was going into London early, and he offered to give me a lift. He has some errands to run. I couldn't exactly refuse when we were both going to the same place, so I agreed, then when he went to pay for the parking, I bolted here." Blaise explains.
"And you think that's less suspicious than refusing a lift?" Draco furrows his eyebrows.
"He already thinks I'm weird; his first thought isn't going to be, 'Blaise must be a wizard', come on, Draco," Blaise shakes his head.
"Where's Pandora?" Pansy asks.
"With Luna, in Columbia," Blaise answers. "What time are Sophie and David arriving?"
"You let Luna take Pandora travelling?" Pansy asks accusingly.
Blaise glances at Draco in confusion, "Yeah, she is her mother. I know Luna struggled at first, but now she's an amazing mum. Plus, Grandpa Xeno is with them. They're fine."
"I bet it's nice having a little break," Hermione suggests, moving the conversation on.
"It's only for the summer holidays; Benji helped me book her into a preschool. She starts in October," Blaise explains.
"You're sending her to muggle school?" Pansy asks.
"We live in the muggle world, Pans. It's easier to learn about the world if she's a part of it. It took me years to understand the basic parts of the muggle world; I don't want that for her." Blaise explains.
"So, Blaise, do you have any plans for the summer?" Hermione asks, once again changing the direction of the conversation.
"Yes, actually, that's why I'm here early," Blaise admits.
"You're here on time," Pansy comments, which he ignores.
"I wanted to tell you that we're going travelling ourselves," Blaise admits.
"Who's we?" Draco tries to hide his smirk.
"Benji and I, he's finished his degree, so we've both got the summer free. We're going around Europe, you know, France, Spain, Italy, maybe Austria if we have time. We leave on Saturday." Blaise grins as he explains, obviously excited.
"You're not going to be here for your birthday?" Draco asks sadly.
"No, we're going to be in Paris on the twenty-eighth," he answers.
"How romantic?" Pansy teases.
"Fuck off, Pans," he warns her.
"Are you going to kiss him at the top of the Eiffel tower?" She pushes further.
"Pansy, please stop," Draco tells their friend.
"What? I'm simply asking if Blaise will put Benjamin out of his misery any time soon. You've been leading the poor bloke along since he told you he loves you at your failed wedding." Pansy harshly states. "I don't think it's fair. Either fuck him or let him go."
Blaise's jaw sets hard, "How's your failed marriage, Pansy? Are you still freeloading of your friends?" He angrily gestures across the table at Draco and Hermione.
"Oh, fuck off, Blaise," Pansy stands, glaring down at him.
"I can give just as much as I can take," Blaise stands, only a few inches taller.
"I'm sure Benji would appreciate that," she smirks.
Blaise's mouth falls agape at the sexual innuendo, not wanting to give Pansy the satisfaction of smiling. "You're a right bitch when you're not getting any, do you know that?"
"Alright, stop!" Hermione stands. "Sophie will be here any moment, and I doubt she wants to see you two, two of her favourite people in the wizarding world, arguing like this," she snaps at them both.
Blaise and Pansy have the decency to guiltily return to their seats upon remembering the whole reason they're together in the first place. A few minutes or so later, Sophie bursts into The Leaky Cauldron wearing her blue cloak with a black dress beneath and climbs up on a stool at the bar.
"Hi, Tom, it's my birthday!" She greets the barkeeper.
Tom laughs, "A very happy birthday, Miss Sophie. How would you like a pumpkin juice on the house?"
Sophie's eyes widen, "Really? Thank you, Tom," she glances up at her dad to make sure it's alright to accept the free drink. However, he's waving over at someone at the back table.
Sophie stands on the stool's footrest, glancing over the few heads of customers enjoying their breakfast before work, and spots Hermione, Draco, Pansy and Blaise. A smile breaks out across her face as she jumps down and runs across The Leaky Cauldron straight into the arms of Hermione and then Draco. When she hugs Blaise, he lifts her onto his shoulder.
"Patrons of The Leaky Cauldron, may we get three cheers for our birthday girl, Sophie Adair. She's off to Hogwarts in September," Blaise announces, and the majority of the customers clap their hands, and a few more give their congratulations.
"Blaise!" Sophie complains, gripping onto his head, embarrassed by the sudden attention.
"You deserve to be the centre of attention on your birthday, Sophie," Blaise tells her.
Sophie giggles, moving on to hug Pansy.
"Happy birthday, Sophie," Pansy hugs her gently, not being one for hugs herself. "Here you go, especially from me." She winks, handing over a book-shaped present.
"Thank you, Pansy," Sophie stares down at the gift. "Dad, can I open it?" She asks.
"Of course," David agrees, sitting at the head of the table.
Sophie sits between her dad and Draco, ripping open the wrapping paper to reveal a copy of 'A History of Magic' by Bathilda Bagshot. The girl stares a little awkwardly down at the book.
"Thank you, but I already have a copy of this book," she admits.
"But this copy has all my notes, written as a professor in the past year. You read this, and you'll be top of the class." Pansy smiles.
"Although there's more to Hogwarts than studying and lessons, make sure you have fun too." Blaise reminds her.
"Dad said I can get into a little bit of trouble," Sophie grins.
"David, we're the one who's going to have to discipline her if she gets out of hand," Hermione tells him.
"Hermione, look who's talking," Pansy stares pointed at her.
"Okay, but if I catch you, I won't go easy on you because we're family," Hermione tells her cousin.
"Shall we order breakfast before we do more presents?" David suggests.
The table calls over Tom, who happily takes their order, sending it flying into the kitchen for the cooks to begin. Then he waves over a bartender to bring over their drinks, including Sophie's free pumpkin juice.
"Thank you, Tom," Sophie smiles, sipping at the glass of juice.
Once Tom has left, Blaise slides his present over to the birthday girl. A small box wrapped in blue tissue paper. Sophie gently peels back the paper to reveal a black velvet jewellery box. On a tiny cushion inside is a silver pendant engraved with an eagle.
"It's beautiful," Sophie stares in awe, holding the chain up to get a better glance at the pendant.
"Have you ever heard of Felix Felicis?" Blaise asks.
"No!"
"It's also called 'Liquid Luck' and is a potion that makes the drinker lucky for a short period of time," Blaise explains. "That necklace has been infused with Felix Felicis, enough to give the wearer a tiny amount of luck. It's not significant luck, just things like your favourite breakfast will be available in the Great Hall, the book you're looking for in the library won't be taken."
Sophie places the necklace around her neck, picking the pendant up to inspect closer.
"Sophie!" A voice calls across The Leaky Cauldron.
The table turns its eyes towards the voice, finding Gwen, dressed in business attire, walking towards them. Sophie's eyes fall to her pendant in surprise.
"Gwen, I thought you were at a meeting?" Sophie questions her mother.
"It got cancelled."
"You had a meeting at seven in the morning?" Draco questions with disbelief.
"It was with my manager; she's in California," she brushes off the question.
"It's eleven at night in California." Draco comments.
Hermione places a hand on his knee, keeping him quiet. Meanwhile, Gwen stands behind Blaise, a hand placed on the back of the chair.
"Hey, let me sit here," she orders.
Blaise scoffs, standing up, "Pleasure as always, Gwen," he sneers, walking down to the only spare seat at the other end of the table, between Scorpius and Phoebe. "Hey guys, how are you doing?" He asks the two toddlers.
"Bah bah," Scorpius answers.
Blaise slams his hand down on the table, "Draco! You didn't tell me Scorpy started talking."
"Scorpius," Draco stares pointedly at his friend. "Is saying a few sounds, no words yet."
"Tell me when he says Blaise," he jokes.
"Your own daughter can't even say Blaise yet," Draco laughs.
"Why would my daughter need to know how to say 'Blaise'? She calls me Dada." Blaise questions.
Draco nods, realising his mistake, "Fair enough, I'll let you know when my son can say your name."
"Here, Sophie," Gwen pushes a present the size and shape of a wand box across the table to her daughter, bringing the attention back to the birthday girl. "Happy birthday," she adds, taking out her wand and tapping the box, which grows exponentially until it's taken up the space in front of Sophie, Draco and Hermione.
"Woah, what is this?" Sophie ponders, lifting the lid and peeling back the tissue paper to reveal the polished handle of the latest Nimbus Quidditch broom.
"No, definitely not," Hermione immediately stands defensively.
"What is it?" David questions, not understanding the object in front of him.
"It's a broomstick," Hermione answers.
"Not just any broomstick, a Nimbus, the best brand on the market," Gwen smirks.
"First-year students aren't allowed their own brooms at Hogwarts," Pansy announces, just wanting to knock Gwen down a few pegs.
"Not to mention it's incredibly dangerous. I still think you should need a license to use one." Hermione comments.
"That's stupid!" Gwen laughs loudly. "Hey, Sophie, what do you think about you're present?" Gwen asks, casting a knowing gaze around the table. "I thought it would be nice for me to take you out for your first broom ride this summer."
"I've ridden a broomstick before," Sophie admits.
Gwen's face turns red, "Who with?" She turns to Hermione and Draco.
"At the Weasley's house," Sophie explains.
Gwen scoffs, "I doubt the Weasley's can afford anything close to this level of broom. I'll take you for your first proper ride."
"Excuse me, don't disrespect the Weasleys; you don't know them," Pansy stands up.
"Oh, I forgot you married into them," Gwen shrugs.
"Yeah, I did, and I know them quite well. They are the kindest and most welcoming people I have ever met, and you are nothing but a stuck-up bitch, whose own daughter is tired of your shit," Pansy hisses at the woman.
"Pansy, language, please," Hermione sighs.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" The Quidditch star turns to face the other woman.
"You, Gwenog Jones," Pansy sasses back, her chin-length hair is swishing as she aggressively nods her head at the woman.
Amid the argument, Sophie runs her finger along with the smooth polished handle of the broomstick, anger rising in her stomach as tears begin to spill down her face. "Stop!" She shouts, standing on her chair, staring across at the two people arguing, before her gaze settles on her mother. "You don't know me, and you don't care enough the try. I don't like Quidditch," she states. "You know I don't. I told you after that last match."
"Quidditch is in your blood, Sophie," Gwen tries to convince her. "Once you get on a broom, feel the wind in your hair, you'll understand."
"I hate Quidditch," Sophie stamps her foot on the chair for emphasis, then promptly bursts into tears.
David stands up, reaching out for his daughter's hand, hoping to pull her into a comforting hug, but instead, she throws herself at the nearest person, which happens to be Draco.
Draco awkwardly embraces the crying child in his arms, locking eyes with David and then nodding to Gwen. The father understands immediately what is being asked of him, and he escorts his ex-partner out of The Leaky Cauldron.
"It's okay, Gwen's gone," Draco softly tells Sophie, stroking her hair.
"Good riddance," Pansy comments, fussing with her son.
"Aye, aye," Blaise agrees, seemingly forgetting their argument from just fifteen-minutes previous.
"I hate her," Sophie sobs. "I wish I never met her."
"If you'd never met her, you'd be sat here wondering 'what if', at least now you know," Pansy says, comfortingly.
"I'm glad you're both here," Sophie awkwardly lifts her head from Draco's chest and gazes at both Blaise and Pansy.
"So am I," Blaise agrees, each one of his hands in currently keeping Scorpius and Phoebe occupied as they pull, slap or chew on his fingers.
"Here, open our present," Draco pulls her present out of his jacket pocket.
Sophie returns to her seat to open it and grins upon seeing it's another book, this time, one she doesn't have and won't need for school. A book for pleasure. "Thank you, Draco," she hugs him again. "Arne Bard's Folklore Tales", she reads the cover.
"Oh, Merlin, that book gave me nightmares as a kid," Blaise admits. "Not that you're a kid, of course, eleven years old today, wow." He quickly corrects himself.
"When will my letter arrive?" Sophie finally asks, having been wanting to ask that all morning.
"Sometime after nine o'clock," Hermione answers.
Sophie breathes sharply, "I'll be at school!" She complains.
"Well, first, we have breakfast," Blaise announces, sitting taller as he spots their food being brought over by the bar staff.
A few minutes afterwards, David returns, fortunately, or perhaps luckily, Gwen isn't with him. He catches Draco's eyes and nods to the unanswered question of where Gwen's gone.
"Oh, great, breakfast," David rubs his hands together as he sits, collecting his cutlery ready to dig in.
"Dad, Hermione said my letter won't arrive until after nine!" Sophie whines, wide eyes are staring hopefully at her father, her thumb gently stroking the pendant on her new necklace.
David locks eyes with his daughter, understanding precisely what Sophie is doing with her necklace. He doesn't know if that's how it works, rubbing the pendant, but he decides to let his daughter have her fun, especially after such a terrible start to her birthday.
"Well, we don't want an owl trying to break into your school," David chews on some bacon, feigning thoughtfulness.
"That not how it-" Hermione begins to explain the intricacies of owl post in the muggle world when David catches her eye and softly shakes his head.
"We should probably take the day off from school, do a bit of shopping for school supplies after the letter arrives, maybe get you some new outfits for the weekends?" David suggests.
Sophie's eyes brighten as a grin spread across her face, "Are you serious?"
"I've already called your school and my work," David admits. "You're ill today, and I have to look after you."
"Dad!" Sophie screams, ignoring her breakfast to throw herself at her father for a tight hug.
"Alright, we're not going anywhere until we've finished breakfast," David reminds her, and she sits back in her seat, shovelling pancakes into her mouth. "Slow down," he sighs. "You're free to join us for a shopping spree if you wish," he turns the offer to Draco and Hermione.
Before Hermione can answer with a yes or no, Draco quickly declines the offer, "I'm sorry, we've already got plans this morning."
Hermione supposes they do have a lot to talk about. It'll be easier to do so now than put it off for later, so she nods in agreement, placing her hand on her husband's thigh. Draco's hand enveloped hers, patting it gently, which does calm her. Across the table, Pansy avoids Hermione's wandering eyes by feeding Philip some of the raspberries from the top of her pancakes, which makes her think her friend also knew about the positive pregnancy test before her.
By quarter-to-eight, Pansy is rushing to get Philip and Phoebe ready to be taken to the Burrow for their grandmother time with Molly, whilst complaining loudly that she's going to be late for work. Eventually, Draco sighs dramatically and tells her to just leave for work, and they'll get the twins to the Burrow. A knowing smile tells him that he's just been manipulated into doing what she wanted, but it's too late for him to change his mind as she is already kissing her children on their cheeks and walking quickly away, waving goodbye behind her.
"I guess you dragged me into helping too," Blaise comments, picking Phoebe out of her highchair as he takes Pansy's now-vacant seat.
"Yes," Draco smiles.
"If you've got plans, do you want to head out now? I'm planning on taking Sophie to that ice-cream place for them opening at eight o'clock," David suggests.
They group-hug Sophie goodbye, and then they're watching Sophie and David disappear through the entrance for Diagon Alley while they take it in turns to floo to the Burrow. Blaise doesn't hang around long, just enough time to grab a freshly baked muffin from the kitchen; then he's flooing back to The Leaky Cauldron, needing to find Benji.
"Won't you stay for a cup of tea?" Molly asks, a twin on each hip as they giggle, trying to pull her wand out of the bun in her hair.
"I think you've got your hands full, Molly," Draco smiles. "Plus, we've got plans."
"Go on then, go enjoy your day." Molly walks them to the floo, where they disappear back to their house.
The two of them walk into the kitchen, Scorpius in Hermione's arms. She places him on the floor, and he awkwardly toddles, then crawls into the living room. The house feels so much quieter without Pansy and the twins.
Draco watches his wife glance around the kitchen, seemingly lost for what to do next. Eventually, she turns to him, "So, these plans?" Hermione asks.
Taking her hand, Draco leads his wife into the living room, where they sit together, "We need to talk about this."
"This? We still can't call it what it is," Hermione's eyes fall to their entwined hands.
Draco takes a deep breath, "We need to talk about this pregnancy," he corrects himself.
Hermione breathes shallowly, "I wasn't ready to hear that." She admits, smiling softly. "I guess it's all out now. We're having another child." Her smile falters slightly.
"I know we talked about waiting a while, but I am happy. How could I not be?" Draco brings their hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. "I've loved every moment of being a father to Scorpius, and I can't believe how lucky I am to be given the chance of having another child." His smile is wider than Hermione could imagine.
"You're are taking this a whole lot better than I thought," she says. "Better than I am."
"I've told you how most purist pureblood families don't have more than one child. I hated being an only child, and now my son is going to be a big brother." He watches their son trying to bash a square ped into a triangular hole and laughs.
"We're doing this," Hermione whispers, reassuring herself. "We can do this."
Draco stares at her curiously, "Do you want to do this?" He asks, his heart stuttering in his chest.
"I do," Hermione squeezes his hand. "It's just going to take me a while to readjust my plans. I had an idea in my head of what the next couple of years would look like, and now that's all up in the air. I just need time to think about everything.
Draco nods, "I understand that, and I know how much you've missed working. We can figure out the finer details later, but we can do this. We've done it once before; we can do it again."
"Minerva's going to kill us," she suddenly laughs.
"That was my first thought too," Draco grins, pressing another kiss to her hand. "I don't know how accurate those tests are, but we should book an appointment with Healer Heath soon."
Hermione groans, throwing her head down onto his shoulder, "I can't today; I just want to sit here all day."
Draco laughs, wrapping his arms around his wife as he gently falls back against the arm of the couch into a more relaxed and lounging position, "Then that's what we'll do."
Hermione smiles into her husband's chest. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply, knowing that they will be okay. They were going to be more than okay because they were together, and they'll get through this together. She must have dozed off because she's woken up by Scorpius trying to climb up onto the couch. Wrapping her arms around his back, Hermione supports her son, getting up and lying beside her atop Draco's chest.
"Hi baby," she smiles, holding him still as he restlessly rubs his face against Draco's shirt, then settles his head down with a tiny yawn.
"Is it nap time, Scorpius?" Draco coos, gently patting his hair.
Against his chest, Scorpius nods, staring at his mother face. Slowly, he lifts his tiny hand, placing it upon her cheek. Hermione smiles as his little finger drum against her cheek.
"You're so sweet," she tears up, knowing now that Scorpius is going to be such a caring big brother.
As Scorpius falls asleep against his father's chest, his parents each think of their future, where their baby boy will be a big brother, who will be a best friend to his younger sibling and always look out for them. Being only children themselves, his parents don't understand just how right, yet also wrong, their assumptions are about having siblings. They can only imagine what their life is about to become with two children beneath their feet.