A/N: ATTENTION PLEASE READ: I have re-written chapter 23 (the previous chapter) as of July 2017. If you have not read that version, I strongly suggest reading it before you read this chapter.

Thank you all for the support, it means a lot to me.


Life was going well, and it was odd that Ginny, Lisa, Luna, and I all became pregnant within a few months of each other. Malfoy claims those nine months were the worst of his life.

On the plus side, all of our husbands bonded fantastically with each other.


A high-pitched whine escaped my mouth, sweat dripping down my forehead. Malfoy's hand was clenched within my grasp, his bones being reduced to powder, I'm sure.

"Granger!" he squealed. "You're going to rip my bloody hand off!"

I grunted, my breathing labored. "Good!"

The healers were circled around us, giving me directions on how to shove a human out of my body. It was odd, seeing as most of them were men. What would they know about shoving people of their bodies? I wondered if there was some magical way to recreate that in a man's body in the healer program.

I had been in labor for over ten hours, and the stubborn child would not leave my uterus. Tears had started flowing down my face once the seventh hour hit, for that was when I realized this child's personality was going to mirror Draco's perfectly. Merlin, I just hoped it was a girl. Malfoy and I had a bet going. If it's a girl, then I get to teach Draco how to drive a car. If it's a boy, Draco gets to teach me how to fly. Competitively. At inhuman speeds.

It took four more hours, but I finally gave birth to a beautiful baby. Draco started crying when she was born, and I couldn't tell if it was because of our bet or if he was overcome by emotion.

"Lyra Jean Malfoy," I whispered once she was finally placed in my arms.

Malfoy stared in awe. "I'm a father. I'm twenty-five, and I'm a father."


"Ease onto the brakes-ease, Malfoy, ease!" I hissed, clutching the handlebar attached to the ceiling of the car.

"I am, I am!" Malfoy spat back at me, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"Throwing your entire weight onto the brake pedal does not equate to easing-"

"Fine!" Malfoy said, slamming it into park. "Then you show me!"

So I showed him. Malfoy was moody and silent for the remainder of my driving lessons, certainly not liking the idea that I had mastered a skill that he was struggling so much with.

"At least I'm kind enough to teach you in an automatic," I grumbled after I heard him muttering curses under his breath.


Scorpius Draco Malfoy came two years later, and I learned, quite reluctantly, how to ride a racing broom.


Lyra Jean was an adorable child; she had my unruly hair and the color was a cross between mine and Draco's, resulting in a dirty blonde. Her eyes were grey like Draco's, but he often told me that they had my warmth.

Draco was convinced that I'd given birth to a Slytherin. I was adamantly against this opinion of his-until the Black Market Candy Incident.

The Ministry of Magic had an excellent day care system. However, I thought, they had underestimated the offspring of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

I was running late, and grabbed five-year-old Lyra Jean's backpack without checking to see if it were zipped. Out fell toys, trinkets, several sickles, and even a few galleons. Draco and I hadn't given Lyra Jean any of this.

After some clever detective work, I uncovered an underground ring of Black Market toy trading and candy laundering. Lyra Jean was at the heart of it all, even having authority over the six and seven-year olds in her day care room. When I asked some of the other children about it, a few of them burst into tears and promised that they would have their debts settled soon.

When I told Draco, he simply laughed and proudly said, "That's my girl!"

"But don't you want to know how she did it?" I asked, vexed at my husband's aloofness.

"Oh, sure," he said. "It'll be fun."

Whenever Lyra Jean went to Papa and Nana Malfoy's, she would sucker the both of them out of every sweet in the Manor. She did the same to my parents, and eventually had a stash saved up underneath her bed. She then established candy as the highest form of currency at day care, and started to trade her sweets for things that wouldn't expire, such as toys and money. She paid the older kids to work for her, and soon she was running the place right underneath the adult's noses. Hermione was unpleasantly reminded of the Muggle movie The Godfather.

Three-year-old Scorpius didn't know a thing about it; Lyra Jean had been snitched on one too many times to trust her little brother.

"Admit it," Malfoy said after I had tried, in vain, to disassemble the Black Market at Lyra Jean's day care. "She's more Slytherin than I ever was."

I pursed my lips and crossed my arms, not willing to say it out loud, but knowing that Lyra Jean was undeniably, uncontrollably, Slytherin to the core.


"-but did you see how he held the door open for Lyra Jean and I? That's called chivalry, Draco-"

"Can Slytherins not be chivalrous, too," Draco replied with a sneer, "or is that a sole Gryffindor trait?"

"Oh, come off it-"

"You just don't want to admit that both of your children are bleeding Slytherins-"

"While there's nothing wrong with that," I said, lifting my chin, "Scorpius is a Gryffindor inside and out."

"Mum?" Scorpius asked. He was holding the door frame, frowning at his quarreling parents.

My mouth hung open for a few moments. "Scorpius, dear, how long have you been standing there?"

Scorpius, smart as he was, understood what I really meant: How much did you hear?

"Not long," he muttered, and my heart sunk at the dip in his voice.

"We weren't fighting over you," I said, bending down to hug him. "We would never."

"Your mum and I lovingly bicker all the time, you know that," Draco added, resting his hand on my shoulder.

Tensions concerning what house Scorpius would be placed in were reaching levels unheard of now that there was only a month to go until he would be attending Hogwarts.

"Dad, will you hate me if I'm in Gryffindor?" Scorpius asked, his eyes on his feet.

"Scorpius, lad," Draco said with a smirk. "I don't know if you noticed, but I married a Gryffindor."

"But you had to," he said.

Draco sighed. "Son, I will love you the same no matter what house you're sorted into."

"Even Hufflepuff?" Scorpius asked, his father's smirk on his face.

Draco's lips thinned, and I slapped his arm. "Even Hufflepuff," Draco replied in a strained voice. I looked into my son's eyes, and I could see thoughts whirling around in his head. He smirked once more and sauntered off, his shoulders straighter than usual.


"'Dear Mother and Father," I read, Scorpius' letter in my hands. "'Hogwarts is great! Mum, everything you've told me is true, of course. Lyra Jean is trying to convince everyone that we're not related, that jokester. Albus and I are having a swell time exploring (he got in Slytherin, you know-'"

"Ha!" Draco exclaimed. "Slytherin!"

I rolled my eyes. "Scorpius never said he was in Slytherin, Draco."

"You know he likes to mess with us; that's all the letter is going to say about the Sorting, probably!"

"If you let me read it," I said with a nasty tone, "then we could find out!"

Draco grumbled out a clipped, "Fine, ruin my dreams…"

I cleared my throat and started reading where I left off. "'I love all the professors here. McGonagall has offered to tell me stories of you two if I come in after class, and Flitwick is very impressed with my charms work. He says I'll have to tone it down a bit or it'll start looking like favoritism, since he's the head of Ravenclaw and all-'" Draco gasped, but I kept reading. "'If you didn't catch it, or are in denial, I did in fact sort into the Ravenclaw house. Out of sheer spite, mind you. Brave this, cunning that...I'd rather be original and wise. Anyway, I love you both and am feverishly awaiting a reply back!'"

Draco and I stared at each other for a long time. "At least he's not in fucking Hufflepuff," Draco spat, scowling at the wall in front of him.


"Lyra Jean made the Slytherin quidditch team!" Draco exclaimed, shoving Lyra Jean's letter in front of my face. "I knew all that training would come in handy!"

"You nearly trained her to death," I said disapprovingly, reading Lyra Jean's letter and smiling at her wit. "She's a seeker?"

"Yes," Draco said proudly. He furrowed his eyebrows. "Do you think the team has adequate broomsticks? I'll buy them all the latest model, anyway…"


"Dad do we have to go to the Burrow for Christmas dinner?" Lyra Jean asked with a pout.

"We've been going since before you were born," I said, startled. "Why the change of heart?"

Lyra Jean scrunched her nose. "James will be there."

Scorpius mouthed, "Here we go again," at me and rolled his eyes.

"That utter prat," she said. "He thinks that I bought my way onto the team, 'Father like daughter', he said...the nerve of that boy…"

Lyra Jean sat fuming, and I smirked, wondering if she'd drawn any pictures labeled, "That Potter Boy."

"Cheer up, Honey," Draco said warmly. "You beat Gryffindor at the last match! Grabbed the snitch right in front of his face!"

"Yeah," said Lyra Jean with a smirk, remembering. "Wish I could've taken a picture of his face…"


Scorpius was now in his fourth year at Hogwarts, Lyra Jean in her sixth. This was the year that The Letter came. Draco sat staring at the wall in shock while I reread it for the third time, laughing my arse off. Scorpius had certainly taken after Draco and his flair for the dramatic.

Dear Mother and Father,

Lyra Jean is a big, fat liar. She has cast the Petrificus Totalus spell at me, ruined my reputation among the female population of the Ravenclaw house, and threatened me with detention-all in the past week! And it's all James Sirius Potter's fault.

Let me explain.

James won't let Albus borrow his map, we supposed it was because Albus was in Slytherin. So, being the cunning and thoughtful duo that we are, we decided to make our own. After a few thinly veiled questions directed at several professors and a year of work (we started our project in third year) we had a map of our own!

And could you imagine our surprise when the first thing we saw, after curfew, mind you, was Lyra Jean and James in a classroom together! Immediately we thought they were dueling (in the halls they'll challenge each other, shouting "Tell me when and where, Potter!" and "You'll wish you were dead, Malfoy!"), so we rushed down to stop them before they killed each other.

One Alohomora later and we were staring into the frightened faces of our older siblings, James' tongue down Lyra Jean's throat and her leg wrapped around his waist.

Albus, not knowing of Lyra Jean's wrath, laughed as I ran down the corridor as fast as I could. As you already know, Lyra Jean is more athletic, and easily caught up to me. This is the part where she immobilizes me with Petrificus Totalus and nearly breaks my nose when I fall to the ground.

Mother, forgive my French, but she was bloody pissed.

I could hear James wrestle Albus (who was still laughing) to the wall and threaten him as Lyra Jean levitated me so we were eye level.

"You. Will. Tell. No. One," she said, hissing out each word. "Understand?"

"Hey," Albus said with his Slytherin smirk (you would be proud, dad). "I think we have the upper hand here."

James scowled. "My idiot brother is right, Lyra," James said, sounding tired. "We don't want anyone to know yet. Will you keep this a secret?"

"Free Scorpius," Albus ordered, sensing the shift in power.

Lyra Jean hesitated before letting me fall-quite ungracefully-onto the ground. I rubbed the back of my neck and glared.

"For that," I said, "I want half of your allowance."

Yes, Mother, Father, I blackmailed Lyra Jean. She deserved it, though, immobilizing me and all!

Lyra Jean's nostrils flared, and I honestly expected fire to come out her mouth when she spoke. "Fine."

"The cloak, dear brother," Albus said smoothly, holding out his hand. James narrowed his eyes and ground his back teeth together.

"We'll trade off," he said. "I get it Friday to Monday, you get the rest."

"Four to three?" Albus said, tutting. "That's not a fair deal, James."

James looked at Lyra Jean, who was pleading with her eyes. "Fine, I'll take it Friday, Saturday, and Sunday."

Albus smiled and stuck out his hand. "Deal."

I thought, now that I had some dirt on Lyra Jean, she would be nicer to me. I was wrong, Mother, so very wrong.

Within two days, every Ravenclaw girl giggled when I entered the room. They pointed and talked behind their hands. It wasn't until Thursday that I found out that Lyra Jean had given them the-quite false-information that I used to wet the bed until I was seven.

My anger got the better of me, I do admit. I hastened to my room and there I sat, writing this letter to you.

Father, would you like to know where Lyra Jean's hand was when I opened that classroom door? Should I tell you how much clothing your precious daughter was wearing in front of Harry Potter and Ginevra Potter née Weasley's first-born son?

It's all quite scandalous.

Anyway, Lyra Jean was waiting in the owlery for me when I got there. She took the letter from my hands and incinerated it in front of my eyes.

"I am a prefect, Scorpius," she said in a slow, deep voice. "Not just your sister. I could make your life hell; how would you like detention with Filch for the rest of the year? I'm sure I could think of a crime for you to commit that would satisfy that punishment."

I hid my smile and said, "No, Lyra Jean, I'm sorry…"

I then went back to my dormitory, where the original copy of my letter (this letter) was. I hope it has found you in good health, and I really am sorry if I gave dad a heart attack.

With love,

Your adoring son, Scorpius.

I laughed again, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye as Draco muttered, "A Potter and a Weasley?" over and over.

"Really, Draco," I said, smiling. "You shouldn't be that surprised."

"She hates him!"

"Not enough to refuse a good game of tonsil hockey," I said, biting my lip at the scowl on his face.

"I simply don't understand it," Draco said, shaking his head.

I sighed and wrapped my arms around him. "I do believe Lyra Jean inherited her taste for fiery Gryffindors from you, Draco."

He smiled down at me. "I do suppose you're right."

We embraced each other, his fingers in my hair and my hands rubbing circles into his back. I closed my eyes and felt a wave of contentment come over me. I couldn't see my life turning out any different, and I wouldn't want it to.

And to think it's all thanks to Merlin worrying over the ever increasing witch burnings.


Word Count: 2,626.

The end! I hope you guys liked this. I got a little carried away with Draco and Hermione's kids, I do admit, but I thought it was funny so I kept writing them!

About future fics: I will be posting more fics, but the dates are undetermined. I have two more ideas for multi-chapter fics, but I will not be posting them until I have completed them (to avoid huge gaps between updates, like in this fic). I also have an idea for a one shot, which I think I will post by the end of August.

Feel free to PM me; I still come on here to check reviews and my messages, even if I haven't updated or posted in awhile. If you have a question about anything, I will answer it to the best of my ability.

Until next time,