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Draco gets up, his bare feet padding down the hall, and peeks into his daughter’s room where she sleeps curled up on her side, just like her mother. He keeps walking and slips into his son’s room. “Happy Birthday Son,” he whispers. He leans down, kissing his son and heads back to his room, regretting that he needs to go into work for a few hours before he can spend the day with his family. As he sits on the edge of the bed, head falling into his hands, he slips into remembrance.
---
“Draco! Draco! Wake up!”
Draco slowly came awake to his wife's hand smacking his chest, and he could faintly hear a child crying down the hall.
“Mmmmm?”
“Go to her please! You said you would.”
“'Let the house elf deal with it,” he mumbled.
“DRACO!”
“Ok! Ok!” He crawled out of their deliciously warm bed, leaned over to kiss his very pregnant wife and shuffled down the hall.
He opened the door to his daughter’s room and found her standing in her crib crying.
“Hush now little lady.” He reached down to pick her up, her small arms circling his neck.
“Da,” she whimpered, her breath still coming in hiccups. “Da.”
“Hush now my little Lyra. Everything's fine. Should we go lay with mummy?”
“Ya! Mummum!”
He carried the little girl to their room, snuggling her between them.
Hermione rolled on her side to rub her back. The toddler’s breath quickly evened out, and soon both girls had drifted to sleep.
Draco looked at the clock and sighed; Forty-five minutes until he has to get up- might as well start his day now. He showers, dresses, and takes one last wistful look at his sleeping wife and daughter.
---
He shakes himself out of his reverie, smiling longingly at the bed. It’s the same every year. It would be so nice to climb back into the warmth. Instead, he heads to get washed and dressed.
A short time later leads him downstairs to the kitchen where hot tea is waiting for him, as usual. He sits and drinks as he mulls some more.
His work days are so different from his home life. Hermione has softened him, he guessed. After the war, she badgered and nearly harassed him, just to get him out of the manor he used to call home. His work persona was very similar to his grumpy, angsty teenage self, though he had realized that he needed to treat people nicer or they simply wouldn’t work well for him. He’d either have no staff, or staff that did the bare minimum. He paid higher than usual to offset his attitude.
He smiles, recalling Hermione’s interference.
She’d admitted that she always had a crush on him at school, and even when he was being an evil bastard, she could still appreciate his good looks and his dedication to his family- mostly his family’s decisions. She may have thought they were awful decisions, but would she have been able to do different if the roles were reversed? She was his angel, his Hermione.
He sighs and gets up, banishing his cup to the sink with a flick of his wand. He leaves the modest three-story house to apparate to work. The office is quiet this early.
“Mandy,” he greets his secretary with a nod.
“Conference call at 8:30, sir, and your meeting is at 9:15.”
“Thank you.” He retreats into his office and closes the door, thankful for the peace. He sits at his desk, soon lost in thought again.
---
Hermione is laying on the couch, waving her arms and venting. “AND THEN!” She exclaims. “The mashed potatoes go flying, PLOP, onto the floor. No mummum she says, I no like tatoes.”
Draco chuckled while rubbing his wife’s feet. “It sounds like maybe she’s got your stubbornness and some of my temper.” Hermione just huffs at him.
“I’m sorry love, back to the office for me. I just thought you might need some adult conversation for lunch.”
“Yes, well, I did.” She smiled up at him. “Bring home take away?”
He laughed as he stood to leave. “Yes, love.”
---
He blinks and sighs, getting down to work- a few reports to go over, and a file to review before his call. He works steadily until Mandy informs him that his conference call is ready.
It turns out to be exasperating. The financial backer wants immediate proof of his product working, but he needs money to produce a prototype. They compromise with a partial payment now and the rest when the prototype is done. Draco grits his teeth and refrains from calling the backer names until after the call is ended. This makes things more difficult since he was hoping to start production soon, but there is not much he can do. He leaves his office and strolls to the roof for ten minutes of fresh air before his meeting. Hopefully this one would go better. He rubs his face and his mind drifts.
---
He floo-called home before he left the office to see if she needed anything else. She was barefoot, standing in the kitchen - a goddess-with her hair a frazzled halo around her head.
“No Draco, I think I’m ok, just supper please. And could you have another talk with Bitsy? I think she’s trying to make dessert again!”
---
He grins as he heads back down to his office, still thinking of the wars between Hermione and the house-elf, Bitsy. They only had the thing part time, too! They shared her with his mother.
The meeting goes well, and Draco feels ready to leave at eleven. He floo’s to a local bakery to pick up the cake he had ordered. As they box it up, he takes a seat, his eyes un-focusing.
---
Upon finishing supper, Draco gets Lyra ready for bed. She’s pouting, not wanting to go to sleep. “Lyra Melody Malfoy, you get your bum into this room right now!” He’s mock stern, but she darts in and lifts her arms, “Up Da! Up.” He gets her settled in and after a story, he turns off the light and leaves.
“Mistress Hermione?” Bitsy cautiously speaks. “I is done the laundry, it is folded and ready to be put away. I coulds magic it upstairs?” she asks hopefully.
Hermione sighs, “No Bitsy, we’re fine. We can put our own laundry away, but thank you so much.”
“Goodnight Miss and Master, I am being excited to meet the baby soon.” She quietly disapparates with a pop back to Narcissa’s home.
Draco sits next to his wife. He’s reading- one hand holding the book, and the other gently rubs her belly. “Ok love?”
“Some small contractions, and a back ache tonight. Probably just means he’s getting ready.”
“Anything you need?”
“More foot rubs?” she grinned.
She eventually dozes off, the book resting on her belly. He takes the book and gently wakes her, helping her up the stairs and into bed.
---
“Mr. Malfoy?”
He jumps a little, startled out of his reminiscing. The baker is standing next to him with the cake. “Ah! Thank you.” He turns and leaves for home.
His mother and Hermione’s parents have arrived, and the house seems chaotic. He passes the cake to Bitsy to take care of, greeting everyone in the process. Mrs. Granger is arranging lunch. He accepts some tea and makes his way into the garden to watch his children play, smiling at their game.
---
Draco reaches around his wife and rests a hand on her belly, feeling the small movements of their unborn baby. “Little Scorpius is full of energy tonight.”
“For the thousandth time, not Scorpius! Maybe it’s another girl.”
“Scorpina?” Draco teases.
She reaches over to lightly smack his shoulder. “How about Ariana or Jake?”
“I thought we had decided!” Draco exclaimed.
“Scorpius Draco Malfoy and Cissabelle Hermione Malfoy are not going to be our children’s names!”
Draco snorts at her outburst.
“How about Leo Jake Malfoy and Ariana Narcissa Malfoy. You get a star name, and I get my grandpa’s name for a boy, and I get the first name, and you have your mother’s name for a girl.”
“Ugh! Jake, it’s just so muggle and ... common.” Realizing his mistake instantly, he sits up and adds, “Not that being common and muggle is a BAD thing.”
“Oh please-- Fine! You think of a second name if Jake is so bad! My grandfather was the kindest, bravest man I knew! But you choose! I hope he hates his name and he can blame YOU!” She huffs and rolls closer to her side of the bed, maliciously pulling as much blanket over as possible.
Draco hugs her back again. “I’m sorry. I’ll choose three amazing possibilities by tomorrow.”
She just snorts, but squeezes his arm. He knows he’s partially forgiven, so they settle down for the night.
---
“Dad!” Both children have finally realized he’s sitting there and they race over. “Is it party time yet?” his son inquires while jumping up and down.
“Not until one. Go inside and wash up. Nana Granger probably has lunch ready by now.”
They scamper off. Draco swirls the tea in his cup.
---
He gets up early, wakes Lyra, and they floo to Diagon Alley.
“Da? What shop for?”
“A gift for the baby. It should be coming to meet us soon.”
“Bayybeeee,” she sing-songs.
He grins,“That’s right. What do you think we should get?”
“Pretty mummum.”
“Something pretty for Mum? That’s a good idea. How about for the baby?”
“Owl”
“Oh? Well love, I’m not sure a baby needs an owl.”
“OWL!”
“Hmm, maybe an owl stuffie?”
“Owl…”
They end up with a pair of pearl earrings, which are chosen to attract protection and are known for their calming effects, strengthening relationships, and keeping children safe. Hermione might need some extra calming with 2 children. They also bring home two owl stuffies, because apparently, “Me one, baby one,” was what she had meant.
They arrive home where Bitsy is anxiously waiting for them, wringing her hands.
“Mistress Narcissa came and took Mistress Hermione to St. Mungo’s.”
Draco started to panic, but they have a plan. He floo-called Harry and Ginny, and once he knows that they’re home, steps through with Lyra to leave her in their care.
“The baby is going to come soon! You’re going to stay here and we’ll come get you when the baby is here.”
“Aunnie Ginnee? Harree?”
“Yup! Let’s go upstairs and see what new toys I have!” Ginny takes her hand.
Harry gives Draco a pat on the shoulder as he offers him the pot of Floo powder.
He floo’s to the hospital and attempts to curb his impatience with the useless staff. He finally makes his way to Hermione’s side.
“About time,” she grumbles with a smile.
He reaches down to kiss her, caresses her cheek, and pushes her hair from her face.
His mother quietly leaves the room to give them some space.
“Is Scorpius ready to meet us yet?”
‘Draco!” she groans.
“Ok, so how about Leo Aldridge Malfoy?”
She glares and grunts as she breathes through a contraction.
“Ok, so no. That’s ok! I’ve got some more excellent suggestions. Leo Chetwin Malfoy?” He grins in excitement.
“WHAT!? Chetwin? SERIOUSLY?” She partially growls this out.
“Right..” He’s feeling a bit panicked now. “Ok, how about Firth, Prescott, or Udolf?”
“UDOLF!!?” she shrieks. A moan slips from her mouth as another contraction takes hold.
“What? It means prosperous wolf. I thought it was nice.” He’s quite proud that he’d even looked up the meanings.
“Let’s… just … decide … after… the… baby... is…here!” She takes a breath between each word.
The mediwizard comes in and casts two diagnostic spells-one for her, and one for the baby.
“Looking good Mrs. Malfoy. You can start pushing when you’re ready.”
“Oh, I’m ready,” she hisses.
---
Draco sighs and reluctantly gets up. He supposes he should eat something before a horde of family - mostly Weasley’s- descends on his home and makes things even crazier. He eats alone as the kids have already finished and have been sent to their rooms to change. He heads up after to make sure they’re obeying and to change himself. He helps Lyra zip up her party dress, then helps his son with finding matching socks and away they go again. He shuffles to his room and sits on the edge of his bed.
---
“Just one more push and you’ll get to meet your lovely babe.”
She grunts, pushes, and the baby enters this world with a shriek and a head full of blonde hair.
“It’s a boy!” The mediwizard exclaims.
They turn to each other and grin.
The diagnostic spell on Hermione starts to flash red for alert. The mediwizard swiftly passes the baby to the nurse.
“Mr. Malfoy, you’ll have to leave now.”
“But, no! I’m not going anywhere! What’s going on? Why is it flashing?”
Hermione has gone pale, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Blood has started oozing from between her legs.
The nurse with the baby wraps her hand around Draco’s arm and leads him out.
“She’s having a small hemorrhage. With some blood replenishing potion, she should be fine.” she says quietly.
She leads him to a private room and hands him the tiny, snuffling baby. Draco is in shock. His eyes wide, he wants to rush to her side, but now he’s seemingly responsible for this little boy.
What seems like hours pass, and his mother finds his side. He is frozen in his seat, yet when she tries to take the baby from him, he refuses. The healers come, and a nurse is able to pry the baby from his arms. He hears only snippets of their words.
“Mr. Malfoy, hemorrhage, weak heart, grave prognosis, sorry.” He bonelessly slides out of his chair, tears falling. He looks up at the mediwizard.
“But we knew about her heart!” He’s starting to get angry. “YOU said it would be fine, she would be FINE!” His mother interferes, and sends them from the room. She’s then hugging him, but he barely notices. How? What now?
He draws a steely calm about him and demands his baby, his boy.
He takes him back to see Hermione. They sit next to her and talk. “Hey sweetheart. Here’s our perfect boy. I’m not sure how this is fair, well…” He trails off. “It’s not, and I’m not sure how I’m going to do this.”
He leans over the bed and kisses her cheek, her mouth, her forehead. He burrows his face into her wild tresses, breathing in the scent of her hair.. Sitting up straight, he wipes his face and looks down at his new son.
“Jack Leo Malfoy, this is your mother.” He lays the baby next to her head.
After what feels like the most painful few minutes of his life, he picks up his son, cuddles him close, and leaves.
---
He finally gets up to change. It’s been five years, yet it’s still like yesterday. Losing Hermione nearly ended him. It was only his two children that kept him going. His mother and hers helped so much at the beginning, and he was forever thankful for every minute of their time. Making his way into the bathroom, he thoroughly scrubs his face, trying to wash away the sense of sadness and switch his mindset to birthday celebrations. He hears party guests arriving, both from the floo and apparating and arriving through the front door. Standing in front of the mirror, he practices some smiles and tries again when they look like grimaces. He travels down the stairs to greet the guests.