Author's Notes:

Here's Chapter 160 for you!

Merry Christmas to those who are going to bed ready for Santa tonight.

This chapter is a continuation of the last chapter, which will continue into chapter 161 (as I had 15k words written).

As I said last chapter, Sarah being in hospital was not planned, and neither was the contents of this chapter, but I loved writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it. Even though it can get a little emotional in parts.

Love, DW

P.S. Enjoy x

Hermione sighs deeply. She knew this would happen. Whipping the covers off herself, she climbs out of bed and pulls on her dressing gown. Downstairs, the clock strikes twelve midnight. Draco had promised he wouldn't be long, yet here she was, an hour later, still waiting for him to come to bed. In the living room, she finds her husband in the same position she had left him, lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with his phone resting on his chest.

"It's been five hours," he mumbles as she approaches and sits beside his legs on the couch. "Hyperion said he'd keep me updated."

"Then there isn't an update," Hermione tries to reassure him. "You're in no state to go to work tomorrow. Do you want me to contact Minerva to let her know?"

"No," he sits up abruptly, pushing his hair back out of his face; now, it has fallen out of its charmed style. "I can't mope around waiting for a call."

"You won't get any calls at Hogwarts. You need service in case Hyperion tries to call you," Hermione reminds him.

Draco's head drops. He hadn't wanted this to affect his work, but he knew Hermione was right and told her as much. "You're right. I'll send Minerva a floo message. My students can use the lesson to complete their homework."

Phone in hand, not wanting to leave it behind, just in case, Draco sends Minerva a quick floo message. Despite the late hour, the headmistress replies with condolences for his family. She assures him that she'll sort his classes out.

"Now." Hermione stands at the door. "Time for bed. You need some sleep," she orders, taking his hand and leading him upstairs.

In their bedroom, Hermione pushes him to sit on their bed before unbuttoning his shirt, slipping the soft fabric over his shoulders and throwing it into the laundry bin in the corner of their room. After doing the same with his trousers, Draco lies down, pulling the duvet over himself and Hermione as she joins him.

"You don't have to sleep," she tells him softly. "Just be comfortable." Hermione kisses his cheek, then settles down to sleep, needing to be up in less than six hours for work.

Hyperion stands in the corridor with Sarah's doctor, nodding as he takes in her words.

"There's nothing more we can do for your mother except make her comfortable and keep the pain away. If you have any family who'd like to say goodbye, you should call them now," Dr Moss explains softly.

"Thank you for trying," Hyperion sighs, leaning against the wall. "I've only known her thirty years, yet I wish I could've had double that. She's such an amazing woman," he tells the doctor.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Mrs Malfoy was your mother." Dr Moss opens her file to check her notes.

"Sarah's my aunt, but she somewhat adopted me in my twenties. We've cared for each other ever since," he explains.

"Well, you're a good man in my books, Mr Malfoy." Dr Moss smiles as she tucks her file under her arm. "Make those calls," she reminds him, leaving for her next patient.

Returning to Sarah's side, Hyperion drops back into the chair beside her bed. He knew he would have to call them eventually, and now the time has come. With his phone in hand, Hyperion runs down his contact list, needing to get it over and done with. He pauses for a moment at James Malfoy's name before pressing the dial.

Evidently, Draco drifts off into a light sleep, where he's fully aware of his surroundings. He's immediately awoken by his phone ringing in the early hours of Wednesday morning. Before the first ring can end, Draco has the phone to his ear.

"Hyperion?" He answers, breathless despite being laid down.

"Draco," Hyperion sighs, and Draco's heart drops into his stomach.

"Yes, I'm here."

"I need your help."

Without a second thought, Draco stumbles out of bed and pulls on some clothes as he listens to his uncle.

"I can't ask my children; I need to at least appear to be holding it together for them," he admits.

"What's going on?" He asks, grabbing a coat and kissing a confused Hermione on the cheek before leaving their bedroom.

"I had to call Sarah's children. Her doctor told me there was nothing more they could do for her, so I called them. They're on their way."

"I don't know what you need me for," Draco says. "But I'm on my way too."

After a moment of silence, Hyperion finally admits, "I guess I need someone on my side. I just can't deal with their shit right now."

"I'll be there in ten minutes," he answers.

"Thank you, Draco. You don't know how much this means to me."

Draco swallows hard. "We're family, Hyperion. I'd do just about anything to help you."

More silence on the other side is broken by Hyperion sniffling. "See you soon."

After hanging up, Draco pulls on his boots and checks himself in the mirror. While it's not the time or place to be concerned about his appearance, he might be about to meet his great-uncle's children. Despite how they apparently feel about Hyperion, Draco wants to make a good first impression, so he casts a few spells to sort his messy bed hair and clean his teeth. Then, Draco dashes through the floo network to The Leaky Cauldron, which is eerily quiet at three o'clock in the morning.

After locking the pub door behind him, Draco immediately apparates to a fenced park in the middle of Tiverton Memorial Hospital's car park. He had spotted it yesterday as Neville had driven around searching for a parking space. The pine trees surrounding the park block all views of the hospital, providing patients and visitors a place to sit and enjoy the fresh air with the hospital out of sight.

Draco urgently rushes down the corridors towards Sarah's room, but none of the nurses or porters stop him. Upon arriving, he finds Hyperion sitting in the chair beside Sarah's bed. His uncle stands with a sad smile as he approaches, opening his arms for a much-needed hug.

Not knowing what to say or ask, Draco turns to face the woman in bed, who looks peacefully asleep, which makes him uncomfortable to be watching her, so he turns back to Hyperion.

"When are you expecting her children to arrive?" He finally asks, watching his uncle's face carefully, curious as to why there seems to be animosity between them.

"Not a clue; none of them live locally," he explains, sitting back in his chair. "There are four brothers, and who knows how many grandchildren and great-grandchildren there are? The funeral's going to be a nightmare."

"Hey, Sarah's still with us, don't think about the funeral yet," he reminds Hyperion.

"What do you know about Sarah's family?" He asks.

Draco thinks back to when he and David had spent a considerably long time looking into his family tree. "Sarah married Arche Malfoy, a squib who had been abandoned by his parents, and together they had seven sons. Arche and the three eldest sons all died during the Second World War," he explains what he remembers.

"Yes, Arche's death left Sarah to raise her four youngest sons alone. She tried her best, but they were all grieving the loss of four family members, and some of them took that harder than the rest," Hyperion says. "Most of them didn't accept me when Sarah welcomed me into their family."

"I can understand that being hard, but you're their cousin."

"It's a long story."

"We've got time," Draco suggests. "Unless you don't want to talk about it. That's fine."

"Hyperion smiles sadly. "It's part of my history. I don't talk about it often, but someone should know the full story." He glances over at Sarah. "I'll start near the beginning when I was nine."

Draco frowns. "When your father took you to London?"

"Yes, it was supposed to be a business trip, but then he left me outside Kings' Cross Station. I'm sure he had dreamt of escorting me to Platform nine-and-three-quarters for my first journey to Hogwarts, and that was his way of letting it go," Hyperion explains. "He disapparated and I was alone. I stayed there for days, waiting for him to return, thinking he was trying to teach me a lesson. Still, I was starving, so I stole from a nearby grocer and was immediately caught by a policeman on the beat," he laughs at the memory.

"Well, you knew nothing of the Muggle world; I'm not surprised you got into trouble so quickly."

"Exactly. He took me down to the station to talk to me. He asked me all these questions about my parents, where I lived and where I went to school. I didn't want to get into trouble with the Wizengamot by saying the wrong thing, so I stayed silent. The only question I answered was about my name. I must have looked terrified, confused, and so thin. The policeman bought me lunch and asked if I was new to London. I nodded, and he asked if I had parents. It was then that I realised I no longer did. I had been abandoned. That policeman held me as I cried and told me he would make sure I was safe." Hyperion's eyes tear up, remembering the first Muggle who was kind to him.

"He went above and beyond his job to help you."

Hyperion nods. "He took me to the boys' orphanage. It was awful, but I don't blame him for that. I was the new, strange boy, and there was a hierarchy, but I survived. That policeman checked up on me often, which didn't help my reputation with the other boys, not that I cared. He got me enrolled in a school, and I made that my priority."

Draco nods, enthralled by his uncle's childhood. He takes a seat at the end of Sarah's bed, getting comfortable enough to hear more.

"When I was fifteen, I was the oldest boy, and that comes with power. I like to think I ruled fairly; at least the fighting stopped under me. Usually, the boys left at fifteen to find themselves a trade, but I wanted to go to university, so I stayed and studied hard. It was around that time when the policeman returned with a two-week-old baby. The orphanage mother handed him to me, and I knew from that moment on he was my responsibility. He didn't have a name, so I named him after the policeman who had helped us both, Neville."

"Wait, is that your Neville?" Draco asks for clarification.

"Yes, but he wouldn't be mine for a while," he confirms.

"Carry on," he urges.

"Life carried on for two years. I enrolled in college, got a weekend job and looked after Neville. Then, one day, a man from the council came to tell us that the orphanage was shutting down and all the residents would be sent around the country to orphanages that had spare rooms. All residents, except me. I was seventeen, and according to them, I was old enough to sort myself out. I begged them to send me with Neville or let me adopt him, but they didn't allow that. The orphanage mother did one good thing for me; she told me they were sending Neville to Exeter, so I hitched lifts across the south to follow him."

"How long did that take you?"

"A few months. I'd make it to a new town but have no money. I'd pick up odd jobs for a few weeks, then hitch again until I made it and found his orphanage," Hyperion explains. "I rented a room in a house, enrolled myself back in college during the day and worked in a restaurant during the night, and on weekends, I volunteered at the orphanage so I could spend time with Neville."

Draco stares in awe at his uncle. He had assumed the man would've had a difficult start to his life once he was left in Muggle London, but he hadn't realised how much hard work and dedication it had taken for Hyperion to get where he is now.

"And you were only seventeen," he says. At seventeen, Draco had been fighting on the wrong side of the war, but he always had help along the way; even if that help ended up being detrimental, he still had people on his side. Hyperion had been alone.

Hyperion nods, his eyes vacantly staring towards the door, as if for the first time understanding just how young he had been and how much he had gone through at that time.

"At the time, I took it all in my stride, but looking back, I was so tired, but I had a goal in mind, and I couldn't fail. I had to get into university, rent a house and adopt Neville. The first part was the easiest, believe it or not. I had great grades in school and college, and my personal statement about how I persevered through my hardships was rather persuasive. How could they not accept me?" He chuckles.

"Which university did you attend?"

"Exeter, which is quite difficult to get into, but I needed to stay close for Neville."

"Of course."

"Renting a house was hard. I didn't have a birth certificate or a bank account. All my jobs had paid me under the table. Neville's new orphanage mother helped me get both. She knew of my plans and saw how much Neville and I needed and loved each other, so she helped me in any way she could. Brenda was a lovely woman. She brought Neville to my wedding," he smiles, remembering the day fondly.

"You met Annabella at university, right?" Draco asks before remembering Alarte's story about his parents, and he regrets asking, especially when his uncle reddens in embarrassment.

"I must preface this part of the story with 'It was the sixties'," Hyperion awkwardly begins. "I was nineteen and hadn't had the time to notice girls, let alone go on dates with them. I was studying Art History, which is a separate story." He gestures behind himself, indicating he'll tell him more another time. "Every Monday, at three o'clock, we had a lecture by Professor Clements in room 213, but on this Monday, I was running about ten minutes late. I had hoped I'd be able to sneak in the back entrance since there were over a hundred students, but as I tried to find a seat, I heard a woman's voice calling out to me, asking if she could help me. I looked across the lecture hall, and instead of being met by the old curmudgeon, Professor Clements, I was met by pure beauty. I wish you could've met her, Draco," he admits.

"Me too. From what I've heard from you and your children, she truly was a wonderful woman," Draco says.

"She was. From that first look, I was gobsmacked. She asked if I was lost, and I managed to find my voice to reply, 'I'm starting to think I might be'. She told me that her lecture was Biology 104, but I was more than welcome to stay."

"Did you stay?"

"Of course I did. When a gorgeous woman tells you to stay, you stay," Hyperion states. "I stayed for the remainder of her two-hour lecture, and on my way out, she called me over and asked what lecture I was missing in favour of hers. I told her and she replied with 'fascinating'. I told her I had enjoyed her lecture, which was just an excuse to keep talking to her, and we ended up walking out of the building together, just chatting. Then, in the courtyard, I told her I should visit my professor to explain the mishap, and she wished me luck. Ten minutes later, as I was rambling to Professor Clements, I realised I didn't know her name."

"How did you find each other again?"

"There was no internet in those days, Draco. I had to go to the library and request the staff directory. However, all professors were listed with their surnames, no first names, so when I found the biology professors, I couldn't identify which one could be her. I made a note of every professor and their office number, then got busy visiting each one."

"That's dedication and a little creepy."

Hyperion rubs his neck. "I guess I did practically stalk her down to ask her out. I thought I was being romantic. It took me until Friday to find her. Professor Brooks. Professor Annabella Brooks. She wasn't in the least bit surprised to see me standing at her office door. She invited me in and asked what took me so long. I remember trying to be smooth by saying, 'Let's not wait any longer. Can I take you out tonight?"

"That is quite smooth, and it worked, so she must have thought so too."

"It didn't work that well. She turned me down. She already had a date that night. I wished her a good night and went home. I was moping around when my boss called the house asking if I would pick up a shift. I thought, why not? It might distract me from Annabella. That plan didn't work, though, as fate brought her and her date to my restaurant and made me their waiter."

"What a coincidence! Was it awkward?"

"Very awkward. Her date must have picked up on the strangeness between us as he ditched her and sneaked out the back before dessert. She was so embarrassed, so I bought her some sticky toffee pudding and offered to walk her home after my shift. She accepted, and that was that."

Draco frowns. "What do you mean, that was that? You were together from then on?"

Hyperion stares at him. "Draco, I walked her home."

As it dawns on him, Draco's expression shifts into surprise. "Oh, right."

"Annabella wasn't looking for anything too serious, and I had my goals to focus on. It was just supposed to be a fling for a few months. As the months passed, we realised how much we were beginning to mean to each other. I had told her things that I hadn't told anyone else, and she told me about her family, who had disowned her when she went to university instead of entering the family business as a seamstress. They believed university was no place for a woman." Hyperion shakes his head. "I only met them once, at our wedding, and they didn't approve of me either, so we never saw them again."

"I'm surprised Annabella wanted to invite them in the first place."

"We'll get to why she invited them soon enough," Hyperion promises. "After we realised how serious our fling had gotten, we decided to take a break over the summer holidays. Well, Annabella decided. She knew I was seven years younger than her and was fine with that when it was just a fling, but she didn't want to take my twenties away from me. She told me to come find her in the new academic year if I was still interested after the summer. If I didn't, she would understand and move on. If I did, we'd get back together and go steady."

"A university's summer is a few months, right?" Hyperion nods. "You waited that long?"

"I was devastated but respected her decision. I counted down the days on my calendar. Although, I didn't have to wait that long. Annabella showed up at the restaurant around closing time a month into our break. She looked like she had spent the whole month crying. I asked her what was wrong. That's why she apologised and told me she was pregnant. I was ecstatic, which wasn't the response she expected."

"Why did she apologise first? It wasn't her fault. It takes two to make a baby?" Draco questions.

"She was concerned she had ruined my life. I was only nineteen, and she knew about my goals, but none of them involved getting a girl pregnant. I told her my life meant nothing before her, and I wanted to marry her and be a family. She accepted, and a month later, we walked down the aisle at the registry office. Annabella invited her parents because she wanted them to know our child, but they were already upset that we weren't marrying in a church, and when they discovered we had conceived a child out of wedlock, they left. Thankfully, we had invited Brenda, Neville and a few of my work friends, so we weren't walking down the aisle to an empty room."

"I think that was probably for the best. You don't want those kinds of people in your life."

"It ended up being perfect. We returned to the restaurant for dinner, and that was our wedding day."

"When did you adopt Neville?"

"Not long after. Since we were married, we didn't want to live separately, and soon, Annabella's bump would start showing, which would surely have her kicked out of her rented rooms. So we pooled our savings and rented a two-bedroom house just outside of Exeter. It was a hard time for us. I couldn't drive, so Annabella had to drive me everywhere, and there was barely enough money left to prepare for the baby. It was October, and the new academic year was about to start when I decided to drop out of university. Annabella begged me not to, but I had a new goal in mind. I wanted to provide my family with the life I had dreamt of in the orphanage. I took on more shifts at the restaurant, and Annabella started tutoring on the weekends. By the time Annabella was six months along, we were in a position where we could petition to adopt Neville, and with Brenda's glowing recommendation and our positive home visit, we were granted guardianship. Neville came to live with us, and a year later, we adopted him. When Avis came along, we had everything we had both wanted for a long time, a family of our own."

Draco beams, listening to how his uncle had achieved all his goals and more, even if he had to drop out of university. However, he remembers that the whole story began with them discussing how Sarah's children don't accept Hyperion in their family.

"Where do Sarah and her children come into this?"

"Four years later," Hyperion glances over at the woman in question, remembering the day very well. "Annabella and I were still in the same two-bedroom house. I was still a waiter at the same restaurant, and she was still a university professor. It was November eleventh 1970, Armistice Day. I had recently surprised Annabella and the kids with television since we were in a good position financially. We were watching a news report from Tiverton. The reporter introduced the woman laying the first poppy wreath on the memorial as Sarah Malfoy."

"That's how you found Sarah? By watching the news?"

"I know, I thought it was strange. My interest was immediately piqued. Malfoy wasn't a common name, after all. I'd never met another one in all my time in the Muggle world. This woman was in her sixties and told the reporter how she had lost her husband and three eldest sons in the second world war. As she spoke, pictures of the four men in their uniforms and a picture of Sarah and her husband on their wedding day were placed on the screen. I must have reacted in some way as Annabella grabbed my hand tight. Her husband looked eerily like my father. It scared me to see those eyes again after all that time. Then the camera panned out across the crowd of pale, blond faces who the reported said were Sarah's remaining children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren."

"Did you put your stalking skills to use again?" Draco half-jokes.

"You could say that. Annabella took a few days to convince me to look for this Sarah Malfoy. That Sunday, we caught the train to Tiverton. We didn't really have a clue what we were doing. We walked along the high street, hoping to catch sight of any of those Malfoy features. At one point, we passed the library, which was advertising an ancestry service, so we went in and asked for help finding Sarah Malfoy, and they gave us her address."

"That's quite worrying. You could've been anyone."

"Even then, we thought it was strange, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth." Hyperion shrugs. "We went straight away. Annabella said, 'There's no time like the present, Ry, and we can't afford to catch the train here again next weekend'. It was true; even then, train prices were extortionate for a family of four. I bit the bullet and knocked on the door to the address the librarian had given us."

Draco is quite literally on the edge of his seat, or rather Sarah's bed. However, before Hyperion can continue, they are interrupted by a nurse entering to check Sarah's vitals. The two men head to the coffee machine to give her more room to work.

"Keep going," Draco urges his uncle.

Laughing, Hyperion pats his shoulder. "In due time, this story isn't just for you or me. If there's even the slimmest chance Sarah can hear me, I'm going to tell her the story, too. I don't think I told her enough how grateful I was for her acceptance and love," he sighs.

"Actions speak louder than words," Draco reminds him as they approach the machine. "You've stayed by her side to care for her in her old age, which is more than can be said about her sons. I'm sure she knows how grateful you are and how much you love her," he adds.

Hyperion throws his arm over Draco's shoulder in an embrace as they wait for their cups of coffee to fill.

"I'm forever glad you found me, Draco," he quietly admits.

"Me too," he smiles, collecting his own cup.

Upon returning to Sarah's room, they retake their positions.

"She looks so peaceful," Draco comments.

"That'll be all the pain medication," Hyperion mentions.

"I don't want to think about her being in pain. That's not how I want to remember her." Draco shakes his head. "How did Alarte handle it?"

"It was rough for him. He's the baby of the family, and Sarah spoilt him rotten. They have a connection, and even if I don't understand it, it's beautiful." Hyperion turns to Draco. "Alarte brought Damion with him."

Draco feels himself stiffen. Clearly, Hyperion knew something, the way he was watching him so intently. "Oh, that's nice. They're such good friends. It's nice Alarte has someone to help him through this, someone removed from the family, as such."

Hyperion smiles, head tilted. "You know too, then."

Mouth agape, feigning confusion, Draco splutters, "Know what?"

Hermione laughs. "You're such an awful liar. Almost as bad as Alarte when I asked what was going on between him and Damion. That boy comforted my son more intimately than my other kids' partners. I can't say it was truly unexpected as I had suspected as much over the years, but hadn't expected it all to come to light now, in a hospital room over his grandmother's unconscious body."

"What did Alarte say?"

"He denied it at first. I saw the horror in his and Damion's eyes. I told him it was okay, I loved and accepted them either way. Then he cried, hugged me and begged me not to tell Damion's parents, which I guess was the reason Al kept it secret for so long," Hyperion guessed.

"I did know. They had a falling out a few months ago about Damion's family, but I'm glad they've worked through it," Draco admits.

Hyperion smiles softly. "Thank you for keeping his secret and being such a good cousin and friend to Al."

"No need to thank me, I'm just as grateful to Alarte for being my friend," he dismisses his uncle's thanks. "Can we get back to the story?" He asks in addition.

"Where were we?"

"Knocking on Sarah's door."

"Ah, yes, well, when she opened the door, she nearly died on the spot. I reached out to grab her. I thought she was going to faint, and she held onto me tight and called me 'Arche'. I gently let her know I wasn't her husband but thought I might be related to him. I introduced myself as Ryan Malfoy, as I'd been using the name so long that it didn't even register in my mind that I wasn't my real name, the name I had been given by my parents," Hyperion explains. "She invited us into her home, showed the kids where the toy box was in the living room and made us all a cup of tea, mostly to calm her own nerves.

"Did any of her children live in the house at this point?"

"Just Benedict, but even then, he was a persistent traveller and rarely ever home. He had returned for Armistice Day and was hanging about for a week before jetting off to some far, exotic country. The others had all moved away for university and stayed away. Not intentionally, I believe. They fell in love, got married, and stayed by their wives' families. After all, the only family left in Tiverton was their mother, who was only a phone call away, not that they call often either," Hyperion admits disdainfully.

"So it's not their dislike of you that keeps them away," Draco half-jokes.

"Not initially. Anyway, I didn't know how much to say to Sarah about Arche's childhood in the wizarding world since I didn't know if he had told her. I certainly hadn't told Annabella, and she was sitting right beside me. Instead, I simply told Sarah that I believed I was her husband's nephew. I had seen his picture on the news, and he looked exactly how I remembered my father. Sarah isn't stupid, she picked up on the little tone shift when I mentioned my father and asked for more details. I explained that I had been abandoned by my parents as a child, and she burst into tears of understanding as she told me Arche's parents had done the same. I asked if they were called Deimos and Iola, and she practically flew across the table to hug me."

Draco can't keep the smile off his face as Hyperion grins at the memory, reaching out to pat the woman's hand beneath the blankets.

"She whispered, 'I prayed for a sign from my husband that he was still with me, and as if by magic, you appear'. I had repeated the word 'magic' back to her, and her wink was all I needed to know that she knew about the world from which her husband and I had been thrown. That's when I cried, for I had found a link to my previous life, to my family, and she accepted me without further question."

"Every little thing I learn about Sarah reminds me of how much she is loved by those around her," Draco sadly mentions. "I'm going to miss her, and I only knew her for a few years."

"I feel the same way, and I knew her for thirty. Sarah is one of those rare people where no amount of time spent in their presence will ever be enough," Hyperion claims.

"So, what happened after the initial meeting?"

"I met Benedict first. He was there that day, in his room. He came downstairs upon hearing some commotion, took one look at me and pulled me into a hug. He said, 'I don't know who you are, but you look like family and in need of a hug'. He was right on both counts. Benedict always knows when you need a hug," he chuckles. "I told him I was his cousin. Our fathers were brothers, but neither of us had met, and that's why we didn't know each other's existence. Benedict accepted that quickly, telling me that in his mind, the more Malfoys, the merrier. He had grown up never knowing his father and three older brothers, so he was pleased to meet me and get to know me."

"I think I'm going to like Benedict."

"I'm sure you will. Despite being cousins, he's the closest thing I had to a brother since I lost Lucius."

"When did you meet the other three?"

"It was that Christmas, only six weeks after I found Sarah. Every Saturday, she would travel down to Exeter to visit us since she knew we couldn't afford the train, and she was desperate to get to know us and the kids better. It was only a week before Christmas when she asked about our plans. I expressed that we had none besides a few presents around the tree and a small dinner before watching a classic film on the television. Frowning, she told me that was not good enough and informed me that we would be spending it with her and her children as it was about time we met everyone."

"I'm assuming it didn't go as well as expected."

"You would be assuming correctly," Hyperion sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. "It was pouring down, and we had been stranded on a platform for an hour before our train had arrived. So when we finally knocked on Sarah's door, we were freezing and soaked. Sarah didn't care, of course, as she led us through the living room and announced that the surprise was here. We were the surprise.

"Oh, I bet that was awkward."

Hyperion laughs once. "You could've cut the tension with a knife. I don't think anyone spoke for a whole minute, which doesn't sound long, but it sure felt it. Finally, one of the sons asked who the hell we were, and when Sarah explained I was their cousin, we were thrown a barrage of questions and accusations. They wanted proof, which I could not give them. They assumed I was trying to scam their mother out of her pensions since I'd conveniently only found them after the news report where it was shown she had lost four family members and would likely be the recipient of four army pensions. I tried to defend myself, but I was twenty-three and well out of my depth. I apologised to Sarah and tried to leave, but instead, she took us to one of the spare bedrooms with a bathroom and left us to dry off. It turns out Sarah had sent her children home, telling them not to return until they had found the manners she had given them as children and remembered what it meant to be a Malfoy. Apparently, their family motto that Arche had instilled upon them as children was that no Malfoy would be left behind."

"I'm not making excuses for them, but it was quite the surprise, and then to have their own mother kick them out over Christmas in favour of a stranger must have hurt. I can see how they were trying to protect their mother at first, but that was thirty years ago, and they're still not over it?" Draco asks.

"Not in the slightest. It only got worse that night when Sarah asked us if we'd like to move in with her. Of course, I turned her down. Her children were already making assumptions about us, and I didn't want to take advantage of her. Then she explained that she hated living alone in a house that had once housed her family of nine. She sold the idea well. She had a friend who worked in antiques and was looking for an assistant. The University of Exeter was only thirty minutes away, and she'd finally have someone to help her in the garden. Of course, we turned her down. I didn't want to feel like a charity case. However, we then discovered we were expecting again, and this time it was twins, so we swallowed our pride and accepted Sarah's offer."

"Your children have a strange way of making decisions for you," Draco comments.

"They all made themselves known at the most inopportune times," he jokes. "Our plan was to stay for a year. Sarah wouldn't accept any money, so we saved all we could, intending to buy our own home, big enough for us and our four kids."

"Did you ever leave?"

"We didn't need to leave. Sarah treated us too well. She assigned the children their own rooms and allowed them to decorate as they saw fit. She cooked us dinner every night and looked after the kids when Annabella and I had to work. All she asked in return was for help in the garden. Arche had taken pride in his garden, and while she tried to keep it going in his memory, she admitted that she hated gardening. So I helped her in the garden and grew to love it. We grew too comfortable, and life was hard with twin babies and two other kids, so we took all the help we could get from Sarah. Though we never heard her complain once, she was more than willing to let us stay, so we did. Instead of buying our own place, we went on some amazing holidays over the years. Even met up with Benedict a few times."

"What are you going to do now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are Sarah's sons going to let you stay in the house? Or will they want to sell it and split the cost between them? Inheritance can break a family apart, especially a sizeable one."

Hyperion's brow furrows as he glances at Sarah. "I must admit, I haven't thought about that. It's been my home longer than it was any of theirs, but if push comes to shove, I'll move out. I never thought I'd be in Sarah's shoes, facing alone for the rest of my life."

"You'll never be alone, Hyperion. You have so many people who love you and want to spend time with you. Don't think like that."

Draco's uncle smiles sadly at his words. "Thankfully, I've saved a sizeable amount of money over the years in preparation for retirement. Maybe I'll get myself a small cottage somewhere nearby."

"If they try to sell the house, I'll buy it for you," Draco offers.

"No." Hyperion immediately shakes his head. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm offering. We can go halfway each if you won't accept it all, but we can't lose your family's house to them. I don't know them, but I already know I won't like them."

"I don't want to talk about that now. Not while Sarah's still here, and this is all hypothetical thinking," Hyperion says.

Draco places the thought aside for later, making a mental note to discuss his idea with Hermione before he continues to drop a considerable amount of money on the house for his uncle.

"Did they ever come around to you? Or have they hated you since that first Christmas?"

"They've tolerated me for special occasions: Sarah's birthday, Mother's Day and Christmas, but other than that, they don't visit and they don't talk to me. Over the years, some of Sarah's grandchildren have come this way for university and visited, but they must have been warned about me because they're always cautious when I'm around," Hyperion says sadly. "All I wanted was a family, and Sarah accepted me with open arms into hers, but I ended up pushing her family away from not only myself but her as well. I feel for Sarah; once upon a time, she had a large, loving family, and over time, she's lost them all in different ways. I know she's ready to leave, but I hope she holds on for her son's sake, her own sake, and my sake because I won't hear the end of it if she passes before they all arrive."

"Where are they coming from?"

"I'm not entirely sure. They've moved around over the years, and I can't keep track, especially since they don't tell me. Last I heard, James is in Manchester, Neil is up in Scotland somewhere, and Arthur is in Essex, but who knows if that's still true," Hyperion shrugs. "I called Charles too; he's coming from Cardiff with his wife, daughter and grandson. I told him it wasn't a family reunion, and he hung up on me, so that bodes well."

"Wait, who's Charles?"

"Ah, he's Peter's son. Peter married his girlfriend at seventeen, a few months before he was shipped off. His wife, Grace, sent him a letter as soon as she found out, but the next letter she received was his death telegram," Hyperion explains.

"That's awful!"

"Yeah, Sarah invited Grace and Charles to live with her and her younger sons, which she did for a while until she got Peter's army pension in 1945 and moved to Wales. Sarah would holiday there with her sons, and Grace would spend Easter with Sarah."

"I take it he's not particularly fond of you if he hung up on you."

"Your take is correct. Since they're quite close in age, he's close with his uncles and was easily influenced by their hatred of me."

"Well, don't worry. I'm here with you, I'm on your side," Draco assures him. "Now, have you eaten anything since you've been here?" Hyperion thinks for a moment. "I'm going to take that as a no. You need to eat. Do you want me to go to the cafeteria and get you a sandwich?"

"No, I need to stretch my legs. I'll go myself now that you're here to sit with Sarah," he decides. "I won't be long."

Hyperion collects his wallet from his jacket pocket and heads out of Sarah's room. In his absence, Draco shifts from the bed to the chair. His cousin hadn't sent him anything since his last message a week ago. It's understandable, considering he has other things on his mind with Damion and university.

In the corridor, Draco hears footsteps approaching. Too soon to be Hyperion's, he assumes it's a nurse's until he glances at the door to find someone who is definitely a Malfoy. Tall, pale, and slick back grey hair that clearly used to be blond.

Draco immediately stands to attention, wondering which of Sarah's children is standing before him.

"You Al? It's been a while," the man states in a gruff and uninterested tone as he walks towards his mother's bed and takes in her face. "Oh, Mum, what've they done to you?" Turning back to Draco, the man nods for him to move so he can sit in the chair. "Where's that father of yours?" He questions as he settles down. "At home, rummaging through my mum's jewellery box?"

Draco's unsure if that's an attempt at a joke or if he's serious. Either way, he's not accepting it.

"Excuse me!" He glares at the man in disgust. "He's been by Sarah's side since she arrived here and assured her she's never been alone."

The man hums, looking Draco up and down. "You're not Al, not meek at all. Are you the other one? What's he called Abe-something?"

"I don't know who you are, and I don't care. I've heard enough about all of you to know I don't like you. Whatever power or influence you think you might have here won't work on me," Draco informs him.

"Confident little shit, aren't you? Did Ryan take in another stray? Is that why you're so protective over him?" The man smirks in an all too familiar way, reminding Draco of his father, but he's long stopped being intimidated by that. "I am Arthur Malfoy, and I will only ask once more before I get one of the nurses to call security and have you thrown out of here. Who are you?"

"I've been here a while, and you've just shown up, who is security going to throw out for disturbing the patients?"

Arthur's jaw sets hard, clearly unused to not getting his own way. "This is what's wrong with your generation. You're too entitled," he argues.

The two men were so concerned in their heated conversation that they hadn't heard the approaching footsteps stop outside. By Sarah's door, they hear a deep sigh as Hyperion enters with a sandwich, chocolate bar and a drink.

"Leave the boy alone, Artie," Hyperion says, placing his food on the windowsill.

"Fuck you," Arthur mutters under his breath, but in the quiet hospital room, the words are clear and loud.

"Now, now, no need to swear in front of your mother," Hyperion warns.

"She's sleeping," Arthur dismisses the claim.

"She's in a coma, and recent evidence suggests coma patients are very aware of their surroundings," Hyperion informs him.

Arthur rolls his eyes. "That's just some bullshit the nurses have told you to make you feel better about the fact she's dying." Seemingly realising how harsh his words are coming out, Arthur pauses, glancing at his mother. "Is she dying?" He asks, his voice calmer and softer than before.

"It's not looking good," Hyperion answers. "She's got multiple broken bones and bruises all over. She's an old, frail woman; if she were to survive, it would take months and months for her to heal, and she'll never be as mobile as she was before the accident."

"How did you let this happen?" Arthur mutters.

"It was an accident. The stair-thing broke, and she tried to walk herself downstairs. It's nobody's fault," Draco interrupts the man's accusations.

"Ryan, who is the boy?" Arthur gestures unpleasantly to Draco.

"I'm Draco," he answers. "Draco Malfoy."

Arthur laughs, "A new addition to the family, Ryan?"

"You could say that," Hyperion agrees. "He's my nephew."

Arthur frowns in confusion. "You're an orphan," he reminds him.

"Like your father," Hyperion begins. "I had a family before I was abandoned, and I wasn't an only child. As I am the son of your father's brother, Draco is my brother's son."

"Allegedly," Arthur spits.

"You know, there are companies that can compare DNA. I'm more than willing to prove my place in this family," Hyperion argues.

"Did you check his DNA?"

"There was no need. He knew enough about my family for me to believe his claims and look at him. He's clearly one of us," Hyperion explains.

"So gullible as to fall for your own scam, Ryan," Arthur's face shifts into disgust. "Did he show up at Mum's doorstep with his wife and children, telling you he's your long-lost nephew who just wants a family?" Upon seeing their shared expression, Arthur burst into harsh laughter. "I'd check your valuables, Ryan."

"Can you just stop?" Hyperion sighs. "We're here for Sarah, not to tear each other apart, so just be with your mother. We'll give you some privacy, Arthur."

Hyperion nods for Draco to follow him out to the corridor, where they stand by the door.

"You weren't joking, he's awful," Draco comments quietly.

"He's not the worst. That would be James. He won't dampen his words behind half-jokes. James just comes out and says what he's thinking, and I can assure you, it's never anything positive."

"James is the eldest?"

Hyperion nods. "Sarah's told me that he took his father and brothers' deaths the worst and has taken his anger out on everyone else ever since."

"What a miserable existence!"

"They all went through a terrible time after the war, having to learn to live in a world without half of their family. I'm sure Sarah tried her best to raise her four sons alone, but perhaps she let a few things slide, especially to preserve the family she still had left."

"Sarah deserved a family who cares about her as much as she cares for them," he sighs. "At least she had you and your family."

Arthur appears at the door, looking exhausted. "I've driven through the night to get here. I need to shower and take a nap before my brothers get here. Where are your keys?" The man holds his hands out.

"For what?"

"I need to get into the house."

Hyperion stares at the man, knowing he can't deny him access to his childhood home. "I don't have my keys, but my sons are at home. They'll let you in."

"Which sons?"

"Neville and Alarte."

"The stray and the wuss," Arthur mutters.

Hyperion grabs at Arthur's arm. "You can say what you want about me, but don't bring my children into this little game of hatred you've been playing for thirty years."

Arthur pulls his arm free, sending Hyperion a glare as he leaves.

"Thank Merlin, he's gone," Draco says as they return to Sarah's room, both needing to calm down after that interaction.

"One down, two more to go!"

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