Chapter Text
~Epilogue~
When the evening pulls the sun down
And the day is almost through
Oh, the whole world is sleeping
But my world is you
-“Bloom” C.Lacy, S.A. Bentley
31 August 2010
“But Mum, what if I don’t make any friends?”
“You will. Now go to sleep.”
Hermione placed a kiss upon Scorpius’ brow and tucked the blanket up under his arms for what had to be the third time that night. She smiled warmly down at him, her expression radiating the peace only a mother could give. Inside though, she had to admit she felt a little pang in her heart.
Though he should have been asleep hours ago, Hermione recognised the look of worry swirling in her son’s eyes. The darker amber coloured specks in the midst of his granite irises reflected back so much of herself and her own memories. At his age, she remembered what it felt like to not fit in.
Scorpius let out a huff of frustration. “That’s easy for you to say. You and Dad were together at Hogwarts. Can’t Lyra and Ly come with me?”
“Your father and I were never friends at school, quite the opposite,” Hermione corrected him gently. “And the twins will join you next year. You can survive one year without them.”
He paused to consider the revelation. “But I thought I was born the summer after you and Dad left Hogwarts.”
Hermione attempted to conceal a sly smile. “You were. Keep in mind your father and I never truly graduated, but that’s another story for another night. Now, close your eyes, little dragon, and try to get some sleep.”
“But Dad said you were the smartest witch in your year. Why didn’t you graduate? I don’t—”
“We’ll tell you when you’re older. We did take our N.E.W.T.s eventually.”
“But—”
“No more questions.”
“I’ll just ask Uncle Theo. He’ll tell me.”
“He better not.”
“He said you both did Dark Magic.”
“We did. And you were the result. Now sleep.”
With a final consoling squeeze to his forearm, Hermione arose from the bed. She inched away from Scorpius, who yawned and at last, shut his eyes. She smirked, seeing the way his brows were furrowed as he was likely deep in thought.
She left his room, taking care to lightly close the door behind her. Further down the corridor, Hermione could see the outline of her husband, holding their youngest child, two-year-old Athena.
“Not her too,” Hermione said, shaking her in exasperation.
Athena’s round eyes lit up upon seeing her. Her brown curls were unruly, giving her a mischievous look. “Daddy!” she giggled, grabbing Draco’s chin. “Night night.”
“She had a bad dream,” Draco explained, nestling his head in close to Athena. “Is Scorp finally asleep?”
“I hope so. He’s still nervous about tomorrow,” Hermione said. “Can’t blame him.”
Draco nodded. “I’ll take this one back to bed.”
“Our children are growing up. They’re no longer babies.”
It was almost midnight when Hermione’s voice drifted off into the darkness of their bedroom. She couldn’t believe the statement herself even as she spoke it out loud.
“Thena’s still a baby,” Draco quipped. “I won’t hear otherwise.” He had one arm draped over Hermione, his head resting in the crook of her neck.
“But she’s not,” Hermione replied with a grin. “She’s talking more and more everyday. And no more nappies, thank Merlin.”
“Shh,” Draco hummed, his voice causing a pleasant sensation to ripple along Hermione’s skin. “Just let me pretend for awhile longer.”
“Alright.” She was still, letting her body relax into him. “I’m just going to miss Scorpius, that’s all. It wasn’t so long ago we were at Hogwarts.”
Draco held her tighter. “He’s not going anywhere. He’ll be home for the holidays. The summers.”
“And then it will be the twins’ turn,” Hermione sighed heavily, thinking of how much quieter the Manor would be without Lyra and Lysander’s bickering.
Lyra Lux and Lysander Leo were born less than a year after Scorpius in July of 2000.
The twins had just celebrated their tenth birthdays a week ago. In addition to sharing the same Malfoy platinum hair, the two also shared the same extroverted, fiery personalities, as opposed to Scorpius, who was often withdrawn in a way that made him appear snobbish when really he was just a quiet observer. Being so near in age, Scorpius was especially close with the pair. Lyra was not one to be left out of the games her brothers played; she was headstrong and a bit bossy. From the time she learned to walk, she had already taken a liking to flying and was perhaps the most athletic one in the family.
“And then Theseus will leave us,” Draco mused, running his fingertips soothingly along Hermione’s stomach.
Theseus Harold, who was proudly issued the nickname Theo from his uncle/godfather, was born a few years after the twins in January of 2004. He was six years old now and was easily the most good-natured one of the bunch. Taking after Hermione, the boy was born with an obsession for reading. Having read his first two hundred page chapter book at the age of four, he could always be found in the Manor library.
“Soon,” Hermione began slowly, “in less than a decade actually, Athena will—”
“Don’t you dare,” Draco growled playfully. He tickled Hermione relentlessly until she gave up her train of thought.
“Draco! Okay, okay. I won’t go there,” she gasped, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
Athena Rose was born in June of 2008. She had big silver eyes, rosy cheeks, and dimples that were always apparent because she could never be found not smiling. She was the only Malfoy child to inherit Hermione’s exact hair colour and texture. While her personality was still developing, she was already aware of the fact she could get away with just about anything because she was the baby.
“But really,” Hermione said, her tone lowering to something more hushed sounding. “It’s been the seven of us together, complete as a family for two years now. That all changes tomorrow. I can’t help but feel a bit sad. And nervous for Scorp.”
She turned over now and ran her hand affectionately along the side of Draco’s face. She would never tire of the way his eyes, bright and searching, looked at her so adoringly. Even for as many years as they had been married, she still found herself mesmerised by his angular facial structure, the symmetrical handsomeness of it. With age, he had grown even more attractive, if that were even possible.
“He’ll be fine,” Draco whispered, nudging his nose at her. “Scorpius can take care of himself. I can assure you that,” he added, a hint of dark chuckle at the end of his words.
“I believe it,” Hermione agreed, her voice soft and lilting. “But what about us?”
“What do you mean?”
“My heart…it just hurts.”
There was something emotional about sending their oldest one off to Hogwarts. Hermione couldn't place the feeling, couldn’t quite pinpoint the right emotion. After all, Scorpius had come along at a time in her life where looking back, she realised how much she really needed him. Needed Draco. It was true in so many ways how they had both filled this chasm in her chest; they made her feel whole again in a time when her life had been filled with so much misery. Though she had technically lost her parents and still had not figured out the magic or method to bring them back, that same familial need was met and surpassed tenfold times infinity with a love she could never have even fathomed to exist.
Before he was even born, Scorpius had saved his parents, his magic protecting the bloodline. His birth had ushered in a new freedom and a chance for Hermione and Draco to start over in a harsh post-War society that had been nothing but cruel and unkind, so unforgiving to them at a young age.
Hermione knew it to be true—without the hardships and losses they had shared, the Ministry battle they had fought together, and their venture into risky and dangerous Blood Magic, they would never have come to experience a lifetime built upon such undying loyalty.
There were many things, Hermione realised, Muggle or magical, that a person could desire out of life. Some wished for money. Power. Fame. Immortality. And though the magical world in particular was filled with wonder, littered with life changing spells, majestic creatures, enchanted objects, mysterious rituals, sacred wandlore and traditions, there was nothing that would compare to the magic that was the love she shared with Draco. With her family.
Her family was her world, and when Scorpius would leave on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow, a little piece of it would be missing.
It was as if Draco could read her mind.
“Think of it this way,” he said, his voice quieter now. “He’s not leaving us so much as taking with him everything he’s grown to be because of us. Your intellect, your compassion, your ruthlessness.”
“Your cleverness, your resourcefulness, your…knack for self-preservation.” Hermione returned a tiny smile, but there were tears threatening to spill from the corners of her eyes.
“Exactly,” Draco replied, his voice soothing. “And even when,” he let out a sigh, as if not wanting to continue, “and even when Athena leaves us someday. Even when all of our kids are grown and with families of their own, this same love will always remain. It’ll persist even when we are old and grey and on our deathbeds. The hurt you feel is love.”
He pressed his lips to her then, taking her in fully before dotting her now tear-lined face with smaller kisses, trying to erase the sadness she felt.
“You never have to worry about us,” Draco affirmed. “In this life, it will always be me loving you. A lifetime of making memories awaits us. No one can take that away.”
“I love you.”
And Hermione felt the sparks of it, of the promise he spoke. His words were far from empty and pacifying as he voiced all of the longing, all of the hope, everything she once only imagined belonging to her. She gazed into his eyes, perfectly content to be drowning in all of the little shades of him, even the darker pieces she knew as well as the back of her own hand.
When Draco kissed her again, Hermione felt her heart beat back to life with intensity, the invisible string twisting and pulling her to him, their hearts forever joined not only through an ancient Blood Ritual, but through their own mutual devotion, their commitment to each other which would never end, never be severed, maybe only temporarily by physical death someday.
Their love was real and of a permanence. The rare and unconditional type. The forever into eternity kind.
Hermione felt it when he moved inside her that night, slow and unhurried, drawing her to him and just to the edge, over and over again.
She felt it when he whispered her name in her ear, the warmness of his voice giving her goosebumps.
And she felt it all the more when Draco held her hands in place above her head, causing her her hips to thrust up upwards by their own accord, her own body no longer in control of itself as it sought its release, that tension building within and eventually shattering at the same time he was coming inside of her.
But she felt it most in the afterglow, the way their spent bodies clung together. Cradled in his muscular arms, his chest heaving and glittering with perspiration, there was nowhere else in the entire Muggle or magical world Hermione would rather be.
Draco would kiss her every now and then as their heart beats slowed together.
1 September 2010
~Train to Hogwarts~
“What’s that?”
“A gift from my father.”
Scorpius was lounging casually across two seats on the Hogwarts Express like he owned the place, his hands flipping through the dusty pages of what appeared to be a rather dull and water-damaged book. Outside his windows, the trees were a green blur as the train flew through the valleys and hillsides.
He hadn’t even been on the train fifteen minutes when already the homesickness was starting to kick in. Wanting to avoid speculation that he was feeling that certain way , Scorpius left the group of second-year Slytherin boys he met and made his way instead to what he thought was an empty cabin.
Empty until another student waltzed right in and sat across from him. And of course, just his luck, it had to be a first-year. Even worse, a girl.
“That looks old,” she commented, pulling her shiny jet black hair into a bun.
“It is.” Scorpius raised one eyebrow at her, partly to see if she’d get the hint and stop talking.
“What’s it about? I haven’t read any wizarding books myself, although wait. That’s a lie. I did start browsing through Hogwarts: A History just last night. My family’s Muggle-born, you see.”
Scorpius nodded disinterestedly. “My mother is Muggle-born, my father Pure-blood. I don’t see why that matters anymore.”
“It doesn’t, er shouldn’t,” the girl added quickly. “I just hope I’m not behind, not having grown up around magic.”
Scorpius didn’t say anything for a moment. She clearly wouldn't know anything about European wizarding history whereas his parents had already given him many long and serious talks about their pasts. About blood prejudice and wars. It was a heavy topic, so instead, he continued flipping through the book, reading curiously though its contents.
“For emergencies only, you’ll know,” his father had told him.
He thought it was strange how so many of the spells were in different languages. Dead languages. Even more odd, there were many chunks of text just plain missing. He ran his fingers over the edges of the pages; he could feel there was an imprint. Some of the chapters must have purposely been charmed to be invisible.
“What’s your name?” he asked then, lifting his head above the spell book to look at the girl. Maybe they could get the pleasantries out of the way and then she would leave him alone.
“Sophie,” she announced, reaching out politely to shake his hand. “Sophie Wallace.”
“Scorpius Malfoy.” He didn’t know why, but he could feel a slight heat rise to cheeks when their hands clasped. This was embarrassing, he thought. Having to sit with a girl.
An awkward silence took over before Sophie finally spoke again.
“Do you have any siblings?” she asked, an obvious attempt to make small talk. “I’m the oldest in my family. I have two younger sisters and a brother.”
“Me too!” Scorpius replied. He scolded himself then, thinking how overly enthusiastic the response was. “Well, there’s twins, a boy and a girl, who are one year younger than me. Then I have a brother who’s six and my baby sister, she’s two.”
Sophie flashed a hesitant grin. “Don’t make fun of me but, I miss them terribly already,” she said, her head darting towards the window.
It was then that Scorpius felt a little jolt of something run through his veins. It was a genuine warmness, a bit of comfort.
“Me too,” he said, returning her smile. “I was, er, trying to hide back here actually. I’ve never been away from home, and I don’t know…when the train left, I just felt…” he trailed off, not entirely sure he wanted to be so vulnerable as to spill out all his emotions. But she shook her head understandably.
“Oh,” she remarked apologetically. “Did you want me to leave? I didn’t mean to intrude, the other cabins just looked occupied and I don’t know anyone.” Her eyes then filled with momentary panic. “I don’t know anyone at all, but I suppose I could—”
She started to get up, but at the same time, Scorpius held out an arm to stop her which resulted in him clumsily brushing his hand up against her shoulder.
He blushed fiercely.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, moving his arm behind his back. “Didn’t mean to. But no, you don’t have to go.”
Sophie looked relieved, not at all bothered by their bungled interaction. She sat back down, smoothing out the fabric of her school skirt.
“In fact, I’d like for you to stay,” Scorpius added, with an attempt to make his voice sound cool and detached. “I can, er, answer any questions about magic you might have.”
“I’d like that,” Sophie replied, the smile on her face finally reaching the prisms of her blue eyes. “I’d like that very much.”