Draco Malfoy had always thought his life would turn out like his father’s. He thought he would grow old suffering at the hands of Voldemort as a loyal servant. He was raised to have a deep hatred for all that was muggle and a lack of interest in anything else.
“Sophistication, Draco, it is what all purebloods should be born with unless you’d like to be like one of those Weasleys.” His father had said on an almost daily basis. He had almost hissed the name in disgust, like it was a foul potion rotting on his tongue.
And now, here he was, lying next to his wife of thirteen year. The one and only Hermione (formerly) Granger.
He looked over at the clock on the wall. The small amount of morning light that was peaking through the window provided him with enough vision to realize it was already seven o’clock. He was supposed to be at the ministry in an hour. Draco had a very high position in the ministry, though not even he was quite certain what it was. He was asked to sit on meetings, had his own office, and went over paperwork that covered any and every subject in the magical, and sometimes muggle, world. All he was sure of was that he had a lot of people beneath him that listened to his every word and he was paid very well.
There was supposed to be a meeting at eight with the minister of magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. According to his Draco’s assistant, Lavender Brown, it had something to do with a small group of out of control dementors who had broken away from Azkaban.
“Hermione! Wake up babe.” He yelled, hopping out of bed like he was on fire. “I’m going to be so late.”
He scrambled into the adjacent bathroom with a towel around his waist and a toothbrush in his hand. He slammed the door without another word, going about his normal hygiene ritual in a rush.
Hermione groaned and went to roll out of bed, gasping as the cold floor shocked her bare feet. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the last traces of sleep.
It was summer vacation and Hermione, the potions mistress and Gryffindor head of house, had returned home along with her two eldest children. Hermione was the first and only teacher who lived off campus. But she couldn’t stay away from her family.
“I’ll go wake the children.” She said, loud enough to be heard over the falling water from the shower.
It was going to be a very long day.
Hermione flipped a pancake into the air and caught it with perfect ease as it gravity pulled it down. Her youngest son, Ethan giggled and clapped his hands. She smiled at how easily amused he was than turned to one of their paid house-elves.
“How’s the sausage going, Penny?”
Hermione had agreed to keep the house-elves on two conditions. One; they were paid and staying of free will. Two; she was to assist them in their work when she had free time. There was no reason for house-elves to fee like slaves when she was perfectly capable of doing her own housework.
“Done, ma’am.” Penny’s voice was squeaky and startled little Ethan for a moment, but then he burst into another round of childish giggles.
“Pennay ith Funny!” Ethan squealed and started banging on his high chair with his spoon.
“Alright, thank you Penny. Do you mind waking the others for breakfast?” The muggleborn asked, putting the final pancake onto a plate and walking it out to the table.
She returned, pushed Ethan’s chair to a spot at the table and sat.
It seemed like forever before the rest of the family all dragged themselves to the large oak table. All were wiping sleep from their eyes and a few were yawning, though Draco looked rushed and hassled. Hermione and Draco had a large family, though it didn’t quite match the Weasley’s level, what with Ron and Lavender already having twelve children. Harry and Ginny had only had three before they mutually decided that they had enough, much to Molly’s disappointment.
“What took you lot so long, huh?” Hermione asked her children, wiping a bit of syrup from six year old Luciana’s cheek.
“Mum, its summer. You’re lucky we are even awake.” Her oldest Child, fifteen year old Thomas replied, stuffing a bit of pancake into his mouth.
“Don’t eat like a cave animal. Chew your food.” Draco said with a grimace.
Thomas was born two years before Draco and Hermione had been married. He had caused quite a scandal when Hermione’s pregnancy was discovered by the world. He was conceived the night after the final battle, when everyone felt alone, confused, and was looking for comfort. Who would have though, a suspected death eater and one third of the golden trio would have a one night stand (or so they thought) and end up having a child together. And at only eighteen. He looked most like has father now, with straight almost white hair and aristocratic features, but he had his mom’s chocolate colored eyes.
Then there was thirteen year old Athena. Her long honey brown locks had gradually darkened and softened as she grew and now looked more like Hermione’s mother. Her features were soft and she looked very mature for her age. Her personality was very much like her mother’s but when she was aggravated or tired, her father’s attitude reared its ugly head.
Next were the twins, Jacob and Nicholas. The ten year olds were mostly like their father. They used their cuteness and identical looks to their advantage and it worked for everyone except their parents. Dirty blonde hair fell into grey eyes dotted with brown flecks; their skin was tan like Hermione’s instead of Draco’s pale tone.
Eight year old Rosaline and three year old Isabella were the drama queens. Rosaline’s hair was long and brown and hard to control, her cool grey eyes could fill with tears on command when she didn’t get her way. Isabella had short, thin blonde hair and brown, defiant eyes. She could intimidate the strongest of men despite her young age.
One year old Ethan was the baby of the family for now. He already had a full head of frizzy brown hair and smiling green eyes that he got from Draco’s mother. He had a great outlook on life, always smiling and laughing.
All inherited an extreme intelligence and a strong curiosity which was not always a good thing.
“Well guys, you’ll be spending the day at Aunt Ginny and Uncle Harry’s house.” Hermione said, taking a sip of her coffee and flinching as it burned her throat.
“Why mommy?” Rosaline asked, she dislike being around Harry’s son James who had a bit of a crush on her.
Hermione was about to answer but was rudely cut off by Athena, “It’s so when dad comes home, they can have sex.”
Draco nearly choked on a piece of sausage and Hermione almost dropped her mug of coffee on her lap. Thomas started laughing and all the other children went silent, wondering the why the word sex created such a reaction.
“Mum, what’s sex?” Jacob’s curiosity took over and his twin nodded in agreement as if approving the question.
Hermione glared at her two oldest children, especially Athena who now wore a satisfied smirk. Still tired apparently. Draco had gone a light shade of red.
“You need to breathe Draco.” She said simply, he nodded and began taking deep breaths to calm himself.
She turned to her children, “It’s not something you should be concerned with until you are older and it is not something to be discussed at the dinner table.”
Later that night…
It was around noon when Draco returned from work. The kids were all off at the Potter’s household. Hermione was alone in the library, curled up in the window seat.
The curtains blew around her lightly in the small breeze coming from the open window and Draco groaned. She just looked so gorgeous.
He went to her and laid a hand on her cheek, drawing her attention away from the book.
“Hello, love.” He pressed his lips to hers and undid his tie with one hand, letting the other run lazily from her cheek, down over her neck and softly over her sides until her reached her waist.
“Mhmm, hi. Did you have a good day?” she closed the book and let it fall to the floor.
“Yes, it was fine. When do you think we’ll tell them?” Draco’s hand moved once again, this time coming to rest over her stomach.
“Soon, I hope. Have any ideas for names yet?”
The male Malfoy began drawing invisible patterns on his wife’s belly, she wasn’t showing yet but he couldn’t wait until it did. “How about Philip for a boy and Annabelle for a girl?”
She pressed a finger to her chin in thought. “Not Philip.”
“Well, what than?”
“Just not Philip.”
Yes it was very stressful living in the Malfoy household. But these little moments, when all was quiet, were the best. No matter how much Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy loved their children, it was always nice to have some alone time.
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