Author's Note: The muse has been skipping around a lot the past couple of months, resulting in it taking a lot of time to get to where I would like to be with each story. Working overtime some times during that time, didn't help. It did not help that with some of my stories, I had lost the plot direction notes. This was actually one of them. Fortunately I had enough to get it on track, and establish where it needs to go. Base on the current plot notes, I am expecting 3-4 more chapters before I end the school year and this story. The muse may change this, of course.


Chapter Six: Born of Fire

The Easter break was really early this year. In fact, they would be arriving at Kings Cross aboard the express at three thirty on March Seventeenth. The break wasn't actually attached to Easter, this year. It rarely was anymore. The eleven day break had been set as from March Seventeenth to March Twenty-Eighth in order to accommodate some sort of event during that break. Victoria hadn't paid attention to that, save to know that several members of her year in Slytherin had been forbidden from attending as a result of Professor Snape listing them as not in good standing after the fight in the common room that she had not been involved it, but apparently had been the source of.

Victoria had other things to worry about. She'd been having what she had thought were more false contractions since she had gotten up in the morning. As she rode in the compartment with her younger brother Draco and the now father by ritual of her soon to be born son, Julian, they had begun to get closer. She was now sure that she was in labor. The contractions were not getting close very fast, so she hoped she'd be able to get to Malfoy Manor in time. There was nothing she could really do at the moment, anyway. Not on the Hogwarts Express.

Being so pregnant, floo travel wasn't recommend, and neither was apparition. There was no way she was going to summon that damned bus. She'd ridden on it twice. There was no way she'd be getting on it with how pregnant she was. It was practically guaranteed for her not to make it home if she got on that bus.

She looked down at the tickets she had for her and Draco. They would need to get to Paddington for the 16:36 train to Westbury, where they'd catch the 18:39 for Melksham, which happened to be a minutes walk from the west gate of Malfoy Manor. As another contraction hit, she was beginning to think that she might not make it home before giving birth.

"Are you okay, Victoria?" Draco asked.

"I'm fine. Just one of those practice ones again," Victoria told her half brother. She was not going to admit her worries to her brother or Julian until she had to. Twenty-two minutes, she judged. Barely shorter than the last interval.

The plan was that they would go down to the Victoria line to Oxford Circus, where they'd switch to the Bakerloo line at Oxford Circle. Oxford Circle was the closest tube station to Saint Mungo's. Victoria figured that if she really though she wouldn't be able to get home before she gave birth she'd get off there.

She was probably worrying too much.


Just three minutes after Draco and Victoria got on the Bakerloo line train, just as the train pulled out of Regent's Park, Draco's slight suspicion that his sister had been lying to him about her condition was proved to be right. As he was looking at his sister, who despite her pregnancy had chosen to stand in the carriage, a stream of liquid emerged from under her dress.

"Oh great, my water just broke," Victoria moaned.

"What?" Draco exclaimed, looking at the water now pooling between her shoes.

"I'm in labor, Draco, and I don't think I'm going to make it to the Manor," Victoria said, before screaming with pain. Draco had never heard such pain from his sister before.

"Do you think you can make it to Paddington, dearie?" a fellow passenger, an older woman with a white cane asked. "It's about six minutes, and Saint Mary's Hospital is right beside it. How far apart are the contractions?"

"Four minutes, and they seem to be coming a half a minute closer every time," Victoria replied.

"I think you might make it," the passenger said.

Moments later the carriage came to a complete stop in the tunnel. "Why did we stop?" Draco asked. He could hear his voice raising slightly in pitch. He felt his throat constrict a bit as he looked around the carriage.

"I don't know, Draco," Victoria said, her breath growing a bit short.

A couple minutes passed, the train not moving at all, before there was a slightly garbled announcement. "A delay due to a pass comm in the train ahead." The last word was almost completely covered by Victoria's pain filled contraction cry.

"What does that mean, Victoria?"

"I don't know Draco," Victoria her panting increasing.

"Sit down dearie," the old lady said. "Something happened in the train ahead of us, but I'm sure the driver will get us moving soon enough. You, however, shouldn't be standing, not as far along with labor as you appear to be. I spent four decades working maternity as a nurse, and I know what I see, even being half blind now days."

"You're a nurse?" Victoria asked, sitting down on the edge of the seat.

"Retired, my arthritic hands and failing vision forced it upon me a couple years ago," the old lady said as another contraction over took Victoria. "I worked in the Lindo Wing at Saint Mary's my last dozen years. I probably should introduce myself. Harriet Jones, retired maternity nurse from Flydale. You may call me Harriet, dearie. Now Draco was it? You're going to have to be my eyes and hands, but together we'll make sure your sister is okay."

Draco looked at his sister, who was pulling up her dress. Victoria hadn't been wearing panties. He found himself frozen. The idea that he was going to have to look at his sister and deliver her baby ... surely there was someone else.

"Now, I need to know when your sister is fully dilated ten centimeters," Nurse Jones said.

"Centimeters?" Draco said, the nurse's hand pushing him down to kneel at his sister's feet. His own breath was coming in short bursts, as he felt his panic rising.

"About four inches, Draco," Victoria said, her voice going up in pitch at the end of his name, and looking up and over his shoulder to the nurse. "His school only teaches imperial measurements."

Draco tried to bring his breath under control. He could do this. Why was it suddenly so hot?


The heat of the forge was welcoming to Gregory Goyle. He stripped off his shirt, and took his place at the bellows, helping his uncle with the latest sword. The warmth was a balm after the cold winter of Hogwarts. For a good hour he worked the bellows for his Uncle Aodh, discovering that he needed to exercise more at Hogwarts, as his muscles started to ache.

"That's enough for now," Aodh said, as he quenched the sword in water. "Come, sit down. I want to hear how Hogwarts has been since Yule."

Gregory found his seat on the wooden bench, and his uncle joined him.

"So, Gregory, are you still worried about failing?" Aodh asked, placing his strong right arm around Gregory's back.

"No, uncle," Gregory said. "I talked with Draco and he's helped me, and got help for me where he couldn't. Vince and I might still be near the bottom of our class, but we're not failing anymore. I got an Exceeds Expectations on my last Transfiguration Exam. Professor McGonagall even gave me points on my wood block to chalice transfiguration last week. I still need to bring up my Herbology grade a bit more, it's now my low grade, but Daphne says she'll give me some extra time after the break."

"Daphne?" Aodh inquired.

"Draco started calling all of us by our first name, and it's kind of stuck," Gregory said. "The Gryffindor First Years are doing it among themselves, too."

"It sounds to me like the winter term was very good for you, Gregory," Aodh remarked, dropping his arm.

"Oh it was, uncle. I hope that the spring term is just as good, if not even better."


Lucius Malfoy was in his oldest daughter's room. He had been greatly surprised when he'd picked up Victoria and Draco at Melksham the previous night to find her with a newborn in her arms and accompanied by an old muggle lady who had introduced herself as "Harriet Jones, retired maternity nurse from Flysdale North."

His children had been a train late, apparently having missed their intended train due to Nurse Jones insisting that Victoria be checked by muggle doctors after giving birth to his grandson on the Bakerloo line. Most people would assume that Lucius Malfoy had no idea what the Bakerloo Line was. He was after all a pure blood wizard. They had no idea that Lucius had once used the underground with Erlene to escape his father. He'd actually ridden in the 1972 stock when it was new. It had been exhilarating to feel the train pull away at each station.

His daughter had just finished nursing his first grandson, born in that tube stock that he'd been so exhilarated to ride on during his escape from his father, on their way to get married. Now the daughter that he and Erlene had conceived had a baby of her own. "Do you want to hold him, Dad?" Victoria asked.

Lucius held out his arms and took his grandson into his arms. He was so small. "Have you decided what you're going to name him?"

"Patrick Draco," Victoria replied. "Patrick after the Saint's Day he was born on, and Draco after his uncle who had to help deliver it."

"I imagine that Draco didn't expect to catch his nephew," Lucius said to his daughter as his eyes took in the newborn baby. Patrick Draco wasn't a bad name. He didn't know any wizard named Patrick, but he knew enough about the Saint from an unfortunate raid on a pub in Ulster that he could respect the choice. Still, there was a bit of teasing he was going to give his daughter for the name. Not today though.

"Oh, you should have seen his face when he held my baby for the first time, having just emerged," Victoria said. "I will never forget it."

"I doubt he will either," Lucius said. "He asked me to obliviate his memory of the process. I said no."

"Where is my biggest little brother, anyway?"

"I'm afraid that your sister Julie is attempting to get Draco caught up for tonight's new Next Generation episode," Lucius said, as his grandson yawned and placed his hand over his mouth. "I believe it's called 'Tin Man.' I hope it's better than the teaser shown last week. I am hopeful, as 'Yesterday's Enterprise' was quite good and the teaser wasn't. Don't worry, we taped them all, and I have managed to obtain copies from abroad of prior episodes, including one which for some reason the BBC chose not to show. Something about the troubles being involved."

"Oh, if it referenced that, well, I understand," Victoria replied.

"Oh?" Lucius said, his eyebrow raising.

"It's the conflict mainly in Northern Ireland over Irish unification, with occasional terrorist attacks in England," Victoria replied, standing up from the chair she'd been nursing her baby in.

"Terrorist?" Lucius asked, being unfamiliar with the word.

Victoria looked at her father, her expression suddenly uncomfortable looking, as if she was trying to decide to tell him something bad. It suddenly steeled itself into determination. "Like what He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named made you do with the Death Eater attacks."

Lucius suddenly felt hot under the collar of his robes. He hadn't hidden from his daughter that he had been a Death Eater, but he hadn't talked about it either. His daughter had freed him from his father's curse that had made him join the Dark Lord, with the help of his two wives. If it wasn't for her, he'd still be under that accused mark, but once the curse had been lifted, the mark had disappeared, not leaving a single sign on his arm that it had been there, not even the light shadow that it had been.

He wasn't sure that his eldest daughter knew how much he was grateful for her actions, for how much it had lightened his soul. Perhaps now it was time that he let her know. He put his grandson down in the bassinet next to her bed, and turned towards her, noticing her sealing her robes. She was so small and delicate, a third-year, still swollen with the leftovers of her pregnancy. He wanted to protect his daughter, to keep her innocent, but that was a ship that had sailed a long time before he'd regained her and her siblings.

"Victoria, I need to tell you how proud I am of you, and how grateful I am that you saved me from my father's ritual," Lucius said. "You may have ended generations of evil in the Malfoy family. If it wasn't for you, I ... I ..."

Suddenly his daughter was in his arms, her arms wrapping around him, her head resting against his chest, right, his chin barely touching the top of her platinum blond hair that matched his own. He could hear his daughter's soft crying, as he found himself her closer.

"Dad, I know," she said softly. "You saved me too. Without you, I probably wouldn't have even been able to get to Hogwarts, and having little Patrick Draco, well it probably would have resulted in me dropping out. Now, thanks to you, I'm free. I don't have to worry anymore about that man raping my little sister, probably sisters, or me again. I don't have to hide myself anymore. I can express myself. You've told me I can do anything, be anything. You made me believe in myself again."

"Oh, no, I didn't," Lucius told his daughter, still holding her tightly. "That was all you. I saw you that first day when you got on the Hogwarts Express, head held high. Even though you thought you were a muggle born, you never let yourself down. I saw your determination, your ambition to be the best you could be. I saw your try out for the Slytherin Quidditch team last year. I nearly came out and cursed Marcus Flint when he chose that boy instead of you."

"Really?" Victoria said looking up at him, her right cheek still against his sholder.

"Oh yes, and I have from no less than four independent authorities that you were much better then, and I expect when you try out for your fourth year, you'll be even better, my little victory," Lucius said, for the first time using his private nickname for his daughter.

"I'm a bit out of shape," Victoria said, looking down.

"Some exercise, and perhaps a little summer coaching from the last female chaser on the Slytherin team, who by the way, has volunteered her services unasked, and you'll be in shape to beat every single chaser," Lucius said. "And don't tell Mister Flint, but his conduct of the team has reached the Board of Governors, and we are in complete agreement with Professor Snape that he will not be returning as captain next year. There is a possibility that he may not be captain for the Slytherin Hufflepuff game next month. It seems that there is an inquiry from the Ravenclaw Captain supported by Madam Hooch on certain actions taken by team members before the game that resulted in them having both an untried seeker, as well as the discovery of disposable wands in the Slytherin locker room."


The final report from the Ravenclaw / Slytherin game had arrived, and Severus Snape had a mess on his hands. Every single player on the Slytherin Quidditch Team had been implicated in some fashion. He had no choice but to remove every one of them from the team, and some of them he was planning on having a quite a list of punishments. There were even a few who were not on the team that had been found to be involved.

He needed to send a clear message that this would not be tolerated. That wasn't all of the message that he wanted to convey. For once he wanted a Quidditch Team that he could be proud of. He'd never had that, even back during his years as a student the Slytherin Team had been a hot bed of penalties and cheating. Severus had never figured out how to stop that. He'd tried by getting qualified as a Quidditch Referee, and calling every single penalty he could. He'd told his team that he did not want to have to call a penalty, but they never took it to be follow the rules. No, they took it as don't get caught.

Well, they'd been caught, and the whole team plus a half a dozen more of his Slytherins were going to face his wrath the moment they walked back into Hogwarts. And it was going to be a delicious wrath. He'd already started to draft his speech, as he'd seen where the report was going to land days before.

It was the opportunity that Severus saw with a clean sweep of the team that he was considering at the moment. He had no real idea where to start. Normally he chose a captain when one graduated from the senior members left. This time, he had none, and he needed someone to at least had to run the try-outs. It was something as a Head of House he'd never had to do.

He had considered talking to Filius, who had been a big help when he started, but it was his team that had been wronged, and he wanted a more neutral source of advice. One look at Filius's fury when Rolanda had handed him the final report had told Severus that he was not going to get a neutral opinion out of that Ravenclaw any time soon.

Pomona was similarly out, as Hufflepuff would the lone team that Slytherin had yet to play. Not that he saw Pomona as a witch who knew her Quidditch. When it came to witches who knew Quidditch, it was clear at Hogwarts that there was one clear leader to that pack, and she didn't teach flying.

Moments later, Severus found himself knocking on a door just a little way away from the Fat Lady's portrait. It didn't take long for the door to open.

"Severus, I didn't expect to see you this afternoon," Minerva McGonagall said. "Please, come in."

McGonagall had always been cordial with Severus, though sometimes he still got the feeling that he was still one of her students. It was not uncommon for him to forget to call her by her first name, like she'd asked him to on his first day as a Hogwarts Professor. He entered her quarters. She found a seat in a rather comfortable looking tartan covered chair. He chose a matching one, not quite directly facing her.

He noticed that her copy of the report was on the side table to her right, and to her left was another side table covered with green folders. "I see you have the report," he said. "Rest assured that I plan to take action above and beyond the recommendations in the report. None of them will play Quidditch again as long as they're at Hogwarts, they've lost broom privileges, in fact I'm taking their brooms away, and they're not getting them back. I'm still working on the detention schedule. There will be no one at Hogwarts who does not know my feelings about them."

"And Mister Flint?" Minerva asked.

"I have asked the Aurors to investigate him, and they'll be here tomorrow morning to search his dorm," Severus said. "If our suspicions are correct, I will be bringing the expulsion request to you, Filius and Pomona."

"Good," Minerva said. "But I don't think reassuring me about your good judgement is why you're here."

Severus took a deep breath. "Minerva, I need help," the words didn't come easy, but he persisted. "I want to have a Quidditch Team I can be proud of, for once. I have no idea where to start. I need to find a captain that I can trust to build a good team that won't end up creating another bunch of cheats who are worst that the Marauders ever were. Potter might have pranked the Slytherin team, but never in a way that would have affected the game, or possibly ended a Quidditch career like what happened to the Ravenclaw seeker."

"Then we need someone to start with," Minerva said, summoning a box labeled "scouting potential."

"You have an idea?" Severus replied hopefully.

"Maybe," Minerva said. "Let's see who has tried out in the past few years that is still here. Everyone that tried out this autumn made the team, so they're all out."

"He intimidated those he didn't want on the team," Severus said. "I gave him detention when I found out, but I don't think it did anything."

"Okay, 1990-91, Slytherin Prospects," Minerva said, pulling out a folder. "McDougal is finished, and well, I don't think you want Cattivafede. Not after the all you've told me about his behavior in your common room."

"He's lost all privileges, and he should be glad that Miss Malfoy didn't vanish his physical ones," Severus replied. "Dewar is out too. The two might work as good beaters, but I don't want anyone like them captaining or even being on the team. I need an example team, paragons if I can find them."

"I think I have a possibility, but it is going to be one that I'm not sure is clear to play," Minerva said, pulling a folder out of the larger folder and passing it over to him. "She's been through a lot, but she's got respect even outside of Slytherin, and you know how rare that is."

Severus looked at the folder, opening it to discover a rather thick report on the now third year girl. He was a bit surprised at how much detail there was in it. It looked like what he'd expect Minerva to have on a starter. He looked up at Minerva.

"Mister Flint was a fool not to chose her last year," Minerva said.

"Indeed," Severus said. "She does have the leadership skills. A third year is young for a Captain, but I think that may be good for the team. I know she wants to be on the team, and is planning on trying out next autumn term. She can shape the team for a long time and maybe end the cheating that Slytherin has been known for, for once."

"What about her condition?" Minerva asked.

"I don't think that is a problem any more," Severus replied. "I've received the birth announcement. Lucius will make certain she has an house elf to take care of little Patrick Draco."

"It's not going to be an easy task, rebuilding a team in such short order," Minerva said. "I would support switching the Slytherin Hufflepuff game to the last game."

"No, there is no way Slytherin is going to win the cup," Severus said. "Hufflepuff is out of the running as well, having lost twice. Maybe delay a couple weeks, but that's all. I think I have to run tryouts with her as the only team member."

"I don't think there are other prospects that I'd personally put on without trying out," Minerva admitted. "But what if you did something really unconventional, like have my captain, Oliver Wood assist in running them, not deciding the team. I could also provide your new captain with my usual scouting reports for her to use to help decide."

Severus was taken a back with the offer. At first, his house pride, and anti-Gryffindor soul made him almost reject it. Then again, Gryffindor had high standards for its team. Wood had nearly ended up not having a Seeker after Percy Weasley had quit. He'd watched those tryouts, and how much Wood had put them through the wringer. If anyone could assure that the tryout was run well, it was Wood. As for the offer of Minerva's scouting reports, they were worth more than thrice their weight in gold. "That might just work," slipped right out of his mouth.

"I shall inform Wood as soon as I have word that you have completed firing Flint and his ilk." Minerva said.

"I think I need to go to Malfoy Manor," Severus said. "If she's not willing then this will all be for not."

"I think you should bring the spare Quidditch Captain badge, Severus," Minerva said. "I know my Quidditch players, and there is no way that Victoria Malfoy is going to turn that badge down."