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Calliope and Thalia and Their Inspiration by lucilla_pauie

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~Dead Heads and Babies and Birthdays~






–Daddy?”

That pierced through Draco’s sleep-fogged brain and he groaned at coming awake and coming aware of cold and pain and what accursed creature turned his bed into stone?

–Father, why are you in the bath? Did you sleep here all night?”

–Pebbup.”

Callie, bless her, understood and ran to the cupboard for the potion. She uncorked it, tipped her father’s head back, pinched his nostrils, and poured the Pepper-Up down his throat as if she was forty and he was four.

If she weren’t his daughter and he didn’t love her, Draco would have killed her. As it was, he bore the indignity with good grace and let the steam pour out of his ears while wiping his streaming eyes. He cleared his throat, testing his lungs. He was fine. His head no longer felt like it was the size and heft of a Bludger either. Who invented Pepper-Up again? Were there monuments erected in their honour yet?

–Thank you, sweetheart.”

–Why were you in the bath?”

I dreamed I left your mother to die in flames and I had to dunk myself in cold water to dispel the nightmare, that’s all. Instead, Draco only shrugged. He’d drained the cold water and dried himself. He had no idea why he didn’t make it back to his bed. Wait, no, he stayed here just in case the nightmare returned. For some reason, it had been more intense last night, somehow. The smell was worst. He remembered inhaling the freezing water to attempt to get rid of the scent of burning fabric and flesh. Gods.

Callie was still watching him closely so he acted as if his grimace was for his aching muscles and bones. He needed a hot shower or bath.

–Let’s go have breakfast with Lia and Mum and our kitten, please?”

On second thought, the bath could wait. He left Callie wearing a groove on the carpet in his study while he went inside his bedroom to dress. He shot his shirt, trousers and robes with a heating charm and sighed as he donned them. He and Hermione hadn’t parted with a kiss good night at all. He’d have to make peace. And Merlin, if from now on, he would always be having this nightmare whenever they fought, he was going to die before he was his father’s age. Dreamless Sleep potion wasn’t cheap or easy to brew. Was Hogwarts bad luck to them? Maybe they should leave. He contemplated his sorry-looking reflection. Hmm. He slapped on some shaving cream and wiped it off along with his stubble. He doubted Lia and Callie would protest much if he tied their mother up and dragged her away, maybe back to Belize, where things had been so nice. Were those smile lines near his eyes? Did he smile that much?

He was just about to conjure some soft rope when Callie barged in and did the dragging he’d been planning.

They reached the Great Hall in record time. He’d expected a scowl, a glare, or outright snubbing. He didn’t expect Hermione to spit the food in her mouth at the sight of him. But then, she always surprised him like that.

–What? What?” asked the girls, sandwiching their mother and peering at the paper beside her breakfast. Oh, the paper. Hermione’d just happened to look up as he came in, that was all. He wasn’t the reason she spewed. Not entirely, at least. Quietly, unobtrusively, he sat down and poured himself a cup of strong tea while Hermione hid her mortification behind a napkin. What was in the paper? Skeeter’s apology? More lies?

When the girls started giggling madly, sweat popped out on his hands. His hands that had been so cold just seconds ago.

–Eat your breakfast.”

Hermione’s sharp tone could not be disobeyed. Lia and Callie put the paper down and tucked in. Their kitten was on the table (he’d have to tell them later that this shall not be repeated), wiping a bowl clean with her tongue. When she was done, Callie poured her a bit more milk. She and Lia also kept passing morsels to the kitten, giggling when they caught each other’s eyes. The Great Hall was otherwise empty and quiet except for the girls’ noise. They weren’t loud, but their laughter bounced off and echoed. It was a lovely sound. It tugged the corner of his lips upward despite himself.

Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip, the paper closed but clenched in her hand.

–Can I see it?” he asked softly.

She jumped and blushed to her hairline. Draco kept his face impassive. She passed him the paper wordlessly, and then got up.

Before she could leave, however, Minerva was there.

–Good morning, all. Draco, Hermione, I need to see you in my office, if you don’t mind.”

–Now?” Draco asked.

–Yes, now, if that’s all right?”

–Of course, it’s all right,” said Hermione, scowling at Draco. Draco scowled back. Perhaps she was used to being summoned to the Headmistress’s office at this hour, but he wasn’t. It was intrusive. He hadn’t even eaten yet. He took one last sip of his tea and followed the two women out of the Great Hall.

They gabbed about the holidays; Draco opened the paper.

He tripped on perfectly even flagstones. Hermione and Minerva ignored his yelp and walked on.

But they turned to glare at him when he began to giggle. He ignored them and affected a serious and appalled expression, but a snort escaped every few steps as he continued to look at the photos.

For there, in the pages of the Daily Prophet, was chronicled the high points of their stay in Belize.

Many of the photos annoyed him (one showed him zipping up his trousers in the middle of a busy street, old biddies wearing veils for church scowling at him while Hermione and the girls laughed in the background; another showed him squashed under Hermione, both of them encased in that doughy, ridiculous sumo wrestler costumes) but most were simply... lovely. The four of them walking on the sand, swinging clasped hands; Hermione with one arm up to hold her hat to her head, her face tilted up to him, the dusk a golden sunburst between their faces; Hermione cutting up a fish for Callie, Draco’s arm around the back of Hermione’s chair, her leg dangling over his knee-- she’d had a cramp that day.

And the kiss. The one she’d given him while they were swinging over a two-hundred feet ravine.

Whoever took these photos had a fantastic magical camera. Draco flipped the pages looking for the byline, but found none except for the fine print in the corner of the spread. Anonymous contributor dedicates these photographs to the ingenious and untiring mischief-makers of Hogwarts.

Draco bopped his head and knee on the damned gargoyle guarding the staircase to the Head’s office. The paper crumpled; he cursed at that as much as for the pain. He wondered whether the Daily Prophet would sell him reprints of the photos.

The Headmistress’s office was silent. At first, Draco wondered why he took note of that, and then remembered the sniggering and murmuring and snoring that had become the backdrop of his visits here. Minerva went to her chair and motioned them to be seated. Draco looked up at the portraits; beside him, Hermione did the same.

They both drew breath audibly when they saw Severus Snape awake and glowering.

–Oh, he woke when Harry came here,” said Minerva, nonchalantly pouring tea. –Upon reflection, that was the first time he and Harry had been in the same room since... since.”

–I woke because it was time. Don’t delude yourselves it was for or because of the boy.”

–He’s hardly a boy any longer, Severus,” said Minerva.

–Hmpf.”

Dumbledore chuckled.

–Be silent,” Snape hissed.

Dumbledore shut up. Impressive. Draco grinned.

–And what are you smirking about, boy?”

–He’s hardly a boy either.”

Snape swelled up like an affronted toad. Draco turned an incredulous gaze at Hermione. He could have kissed her. And then they heard a soft sound of derision from the portrait. –Of course. You are quite correct, Miss Granger. After all, as I’ve heard, my godson and former prefect is the father of two eleven-year-old girls.” At Hermione’s blush, Snape continued, –Oh! That’s right, and you are the mother. My, my. I thought better of you--”

–Excuse me?” Hermione reared to her feet, now even redder in the face and with her wand in hand, by Merlin. –You make it sound as if my daughters are botched potions. If you weren’t school property, you’d be ashes on the floor.”

Draco-- and Hermione and Minerva-- jumped at the raucous cheers and applause that erupted. –That’s right, you tell him, girl!” –Don’t cross her, Snape!” –I always knew someone’s his match in this school!”

–I didn’t-- I’m sorry!” Hermione was back in her chair and had her face in her hands. Draco chuckled and patted her head; he couldn’t help the gesture. Snape was quiet in his frame, glowering left, right and centre. Draco swallowed the rest of his amusement and appropriated Hermione’s tea.

Minerva cleared her throat. When that was buried in the noise, she tapped her wand on her desk. When that didn’t work either, she nodded at a woman with ringlets--Dilys Derwent--and the portrait rang a deafening, glass-shattering bell. Everyone settled down, but the complete silence was gone. It was as if a tension had been broken and the portraits were back to themselves again. Dumbledore was twinkling in his chair, nodding at Draco with a smile.

–The reason for this conference,” Minerva spoke as if there had been no riot between now and their entrance into the office, –is your living arrangements. I think we can--”

–Our accommodations are fine.” Hermione’s blush, which had only begun to subside, returned with a vengeance. Draco watched her chew on her lip. She wouldn’t look at him.

–Oh. Well.” Minerva had spots of pink on her cheeks. Draco turned his attention to the Headmistress. –I suppose I don’t have to tell you to--” Minerva waved a hand-- –well, remain a model of propriety to the students?”

Hermione grimaced and nodded. –Really, there’s no--” She imitated Minerva’s vague hand gesture.

–And you, Draco?”

–You can rely on me, Headmistress. Propriety. Absolutely. But I can’t promise anything. I mean, look at these photos. The illusion that professors don’t touch each other is now a burst bubble.”

Several of the portraits sniggered. Draco had to bite his cheeks to keep from joining them.

The pink on Minerva’s cheeks deepened. Hermione made a noise between a moan and a groan from the chair beside his.

–Hermione, these were not published with your consent, were they?” Minerva asked.

–Of course not.”

–We have grounds to press charges.”

Hermione smiled ruefully. –Why should we bother? Harry might. They broke their agreement with him. I wasn’t supposed to be shown on the paper, was I? But I forget they already deduced the reason for that and as the reason no longer applies-- I’m sorry, Minerva. I hope this doesn’t reflect badly on the school--”

–Nonsense.” It wasn’t Minerva who spoke, but three or four portraits at once.

–They’re not imposture, then?”

–Ha! I’ll be collecting the wig later, Leonidas.”

Dilys Derwent raised the bell; the rising demands for won wagers died down. Hermione sighed. The pink in Minerva’s cheeks didn’t leave yet, and Draco thought he saw the old Headmistress’s lips quirk.

–Where did she get that forsaken bell?” asked Snape, tugging at his earlobe.

–There’s a cowherd in the fifth floor,” answered Dumbledore, –who unwisely wagered Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger would be married before Christmas.”

Snape made a noise of disgust. A nerve pulsed above Minerva’s eye as the portraits, heedless of the threat of the bell, chided Draco and Hermione to ‘get on with it, what are you waiting for?’ ‘My great-aunt Justina snagged my great-uncle Chandler faster, and they were eighty!’ Draco coughed to cover irrepressible mirth. He dared not look at Hermione.

Minerva rose. –That’s all, then. Have a good day, you two.” She didn’t quite push them to the door, but nearly. Before they could cross the threshold, however, Snape called out over the noise, a –Draco!” so loud and yet so soft and familiar that Draco felt sixteen again. –A word.”

Minerva had asked earlier ‘if they didn’t mind’ and ‘if it was all right,’ but Snape was of a different breed altogether. Draco moved to return to his seat, but Minerva put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him. She turned back, paused and looked at Snape’s portrait until the scowling man scowled further and murmured, –If it won’t inconvenience you, Minerva, may I speak to my old student?”

–Of course, Sev--”

–And does the incumbent absolutely have no power to banish--if for a moment-- this rabble?”

–How dare you!” –We’ll banish you! How’d you like that?” –The impertinence, sir! Why, you ought to be taught--”

–Merlin, Severus,” said Minerva, –do you think I would bear this every single day and night if I could choose otherwise?”

Snape smirked. With a sweep of her robes, Minerva left clutching Hermione’s arm.

As if they didn’t have an audience muttering around them, Snape said, –Well, Draco?”

–Yes, Headmaster?”

–Your parents are well?”

–Yes, sir. They live in France now. We run a vineyard. Quite prosperous. And my father’s taken to golf.”

–To what?”

–A Muggle sport. Swinging clubs at a ball in the grass.”

–A stupid sport. You’re Head of House now.”

–We’re short of Slytherin professors at Hogwarts, so the job fell to me.”

–And Slytherin’s position in the House Cup is?”

They both ignored Dumbledore’s chuckle.

–Negligible.”

–Dammit, boy. Who’s winning then, Gryffindor?”

–Ravenclaw. By a hundred points or thereabouts.”

–That’s not insalvageable. What’s the standing, exactly?”

–A hundred or so, fifty, nil, nil.”

–What?”

–Gryffindor and Slytherin are both empty.”

–Why? What have you done or not done? Don’t be negligent! It’s your duty--”

–Now, now, Severus, we can tell you all about it,” Dumbledore said. –Let Draco go. If it’s Hogwarts news and gossip you’re after, you should have asked us. We have quite a bit to share--”

–Be quiet, you old dingbat-- Draco, I’m not done with you!”

Draco was already on the revolving staircase, doubled over in laughter. Merlin. He thought Snape was about to grill him about Hermione. But no, the man only cared about. The. House. Cup.

He was still having fits of laughter as he neared the Great Hall, intending to have breakfast while reliving Snape’s uncharacteristic silliness. He stopped short at the entrance hall and blinked. Was that voices he heard coming from the empty Great Hall? The heretofore empty Great Hall? With some trepidation, he stepped inside. The noise shut off as if Silenced, and then it immediately redoubled, giggles and sniggers most prominent in the cacophony. Hermione was nowhere to be found. Lia and Callie were surrounded.

Someone passed him on their way to the staircases. Draco couldn’t help blurting, –Where did you lot come from?”

–Hello, Professor.” It was Priscilla August. –We heard you had a wonderful time in Belize. As for us--” She waved a hand at her peers-- –we got here by Side-along. And the carriages were there at the station. No one could stay away. Not after this morning’s Prophet.”

She said all that with sombreness and gravity, as if she was relaying important--not giddy nor fatuous--information. Draco could only nod.






Classes resumed. She and Draco resumed teaching. Resumed where they’d left off before Belize as well. Avoiding each other, colliding with each other in the halls, exchanging polite greetings. Hermione busied herself with lesson plans and tried not to think or worry about him (or wish for mistletoe).

It was like trying to shift a pin away from a gigantic magnet.

–Are you all right?”

They were in the entrance hall. Students were on their way to lunch, thankfully ignoring them for the time being. Perhaps Hermione threatening them with detention was their real reason for not lingering, but still. Good, go on, go on. Nothing to see here. Let me talk to this man without being ogled.

Despite the din, Draco heard her--he always heard her--and smiled. He dragged his eyes from her eyes to her boots and back, snagging in places in between, making her swallow and want to swat him. Suddenly, it was as if they hadn’t parted in anger the last time they’d talked. It was only warmth between them. She wanted to sink into that warmth.

–Of course I’m all right,” he said. –Why, are these trolls saying anything about my health?”

–What are these things then?” She touched the shadows beneath his eyes, attempted to rub them away with her thumbs. When she realised what she was doing, it was too late, he’d already kissed her on the forehead and taken her hands in his, squeezing them before letting go. Someone squealed from the direction of the Ravenclaw table.

Honestly, these kids.

–I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all. Nightmares.” Draco leaned closer and whispered, –I need someone to slap me awake from them, and then snuggle with me afterward.”

Hermione laughed. He was outrageous. He was fine. –Put chamomile in your tea and lavender in your pillows.” She patted his cheek. Not gently either. There. She hadn’t completely forgotten--you simply didn’t forget a grudge a decade old, a grudge so freshly poked--but she hadn’t been a complete hag either. They were... friends now. They weren’t at each other’s throats, they were sensible adults.

But she still wanted to kiss him. Grudge and sensibility be damned.

She climbed the staircases instead of entering the Great Hall. She could have lunch at Minerva’s office instead. The students were getting on her nerves. They meant well, she was sure, but they were treating her and Draco like objects. A girl doll and boy doll they were intent to marry. Didn’t young girls used to play a game like that? It was probably more interesting that the dolls were resisting.

The Headmistress wasn’t there when Hermione arrived, but the small table they usually shared for tea was set with food and places already. Minerva sometimes ate here when she was too busy or too tired to come down to the Great Hall. She would invite one of the teachers to join her. Ever since Hermione joined the staff, that teacher was almost always her. And ever since the photos in the Daily Prophet, Hermione disliked being the centre of attention at the Great Hall.

The portraits were snoozing in their frames. They seemed to be mellow when it was Hermione they faced. Dumbledore was the only one who didn’t feign sleep. Dumbledore, and Snape.

The former Potions teacher stared her down as soon as she entered, but she’d ignored him at first. Now seated, she returned his gaze steadily, waiting for him to speak and finally unburden himself. She wondered what he thought of all this, of everything that had happened since he was killed. Of couse, he must have been fully reprised by now, but what went on in his mind when he looked at her?

On a side table stood a miniature of the gargoyle guarding the Head’s office, functioning there as a book-end. Just then, the gargoyle spoke. –Student to see Professor Granger. Permission?”

–Granted,” said Hermione automatically. It was probably Callie or Lia. The others wouldn’t dare disturb her now unless the situation was dire. Professor Snape was still staring at her. She wouldn’t lose the contest so she stared back.

–Mum. I think I’ve gotten my you-know-what.”

The feigned snores and snuffles quited at Lia’s announcement. Hermione yielded to Snape and turned to her daughter. –You think? Haven’t you checked?”

–Well, I have. But maybe I only have a wound down there?”

Hermione didn’t laugh. She would not laugh. But gods, Lia was the silliest thing. –Were you injured, darling?”

–I fell down the stairs last night. It was that trick--”

–Thalia, you know this day was coming. It has come. You should accept it. There’s a powder room over here. Would you--”

–What! Here? Eew. I only came to tell you. I’ll go and get Callie then.”

Hermione nodded. Thalia flew out the same way she flew in. Hermione thought she heard Dilys Derwent chuckle. When Hermione looked toward the portrait, the former Headmistress returned her grin.

–Do you know, I had the same reaction. I was devastated, really, that my childhood was at an end, that I would have to worry about sponges and stains and cramps and--”

–Someone grab that bell from her and bang it now!” cried out an elderly headmaster from higher up in the ceiling.

–Was that your daughter?”

Hermione almost didn’t hear the soft question in the middle of the noise that had erupted. She turned toward Professor Snape. –Yes, sir. Her name’s Thalia.”

–She doesn’t look anything like you.”

Hermione wanted to contradict that. Thalia wasn’t all-Draco, even if she was blonde. To be congenial, Hermione only said, –I like how she looks.”

Snape was silent for awhile, appraising her. Hermione began to eat. Minerva wouldn’t mind. –I take it, motherhood has treated you well, Miss Granger?”

–Oh, very.”

–Has Draco?”

Hermione deliberately put a huge chunk of beef into her mouth. And chewed very, very thoroughly.

–I’m sorry, that was too personal, wasn’t it? I just want to hear it from you, what happened. Any of these fwoopers around me are more than willing to entertain me with the tale but--”

–Didn’t I discover two days ago that Draco’s your godson? You should ask him, sir.” Not me. Gods. You were my Potions teacher and if you didn’t kill my headmaster or get killed yourself, we might have become friends, but as the possibility hangs on your rather scintillating personality--

–I doubt he would tell me.”

–I thought you--” Could bully anything from him unless it could mean his or his family’s death. Hermione swallowed that and only said, –Why not?”

–Because it’s apparent he has failed.”

Hermione immediately shook her head. Why she did so, she couldn’t say even if someone asked her. Defending Draco was a reflex. Surprising, but true.

–If he hasn’t, why are you and your daughter not of the name Malfoy? Why is there no ring on your finger? Why is your holiday a matter of public entertainment? Why are these mouldering meddlers so titillated with your story?”

Hermione calmly went back to her beef.

–Miss Granger, do not snub me.”

–I’m sorry, Professor. I didn’t mean to. It’s just, you were sounding like a mouldering meddler yourself, and I would only have abetted the meddling if I answered.

Once again, there were cheers and applause. Hermione didn’t hear Minerva arrive. The older woman dropped into her chair with sigh. –I suppose, as I’ll be of their party sooner or later, I shouldn’t begrudge them their merriment too much.”






February arrived nippy and frosty, and along with it, baby Potter. Callie shrieked ‘Daddy!’ again, and Draco, who’d been enjoying a nice snooze--ever since Hermione’s caress in the entrance hall, his nightmare had retreated--jumped from bed with an oath and a promise of mutilation to the one who made his daughter shriek.

Callie hadn’t jumped on top of his blanket in years, and yet there the girl was, bouncing like she was three. –Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny had their baby!”

–Is that all?”

–He came last night. And because it’s Saturday, we can go and visit, can’t we? If you don’t want to go, Mum is taking me and Lia.”

–Get off me. I’m coming with you.”

He wanted to talk to Potter anyway. Maybe the Boy Wonder could tell Snape to sleep in his portrait again. Draco was getting annoyed at Snape turning up everywhere to harrass him about the House Cup. Not to mention, he hadn’t forgiven Snape for that tactless remark of his to Hermione either. There weren’t many portraits in the dungeons, so Draco only got a reprieve when he was down here.

Hermione looked very fetching in her burgundy cloak and matching hat. Draco wanted to nuzzle the faux fur on her temple and then drag his lips down her silken cheek, but students loitered in the entrance hall, bundled up for Hogsmeade. Callie and Lia led the way to the gates, stomping on the snow with their boots. They were wearing black and red. He wondered if there was someone responsible for coordinating their outfits. But then, it wasn’t as if his winter wardrobe was of any other colour than black.

–What’s the baby’s name?” he asked, not out of interest, but only so Hermione would turn her smile on him. She did.

–James Sirius.”

–Hmm. How about you and the girls go on to St. Mungo’s, and I make a stop in Diagon Alley first?”

–That’s thoughtful of you.” Her smile intensified and he was rewarded with a squeeze of her hand on his arm. He tucked that hand there and kept it until they reached the gates, where he Disapparated alone and she did so with a girl on each arm.

The Leaky Cauldron’s Apparition room was empty. No one wanted to go shopping in this cold. Draco made it quicker to his destination without having to pause or jostle with a crowd.

Externally, the shop was unchanged. The display window still held the same odds and ends that wouldn’t be of any use to anybody, unless that somebody had plenty of space to fill. Kilmartin’s was stenciled in gold on the glass. It had become Diagon Alley’s answer to Knocturn Alley’s Borgin and Burke’s.

Mr and Mrs Kilmartin, they who have opened their house in Hogsmeade to Slytherins, discovered from the experience that they liked being in trade. They bought a spot in Diagon Alley and enjoyed the patronage of Slytherins and their friends and families. They bought and sold rarities and oddments, silver and gold and platinum trinkets, and the occasional portrait of cat’s eyes. Pansy had her and Patrick’s wedding rings made here, and often came back when her parents’ anniversaries or birthdays came around. Draco had been here only once.

Mrs Kilmartin remembered. The woman squealed and rounded her counter to give him a shoulder-ripping handshake. –Draco Malfoy! Did they like their wee rattles? Did they?”

The silver rattles. Engraved with the girls’ initials. His secret was that he’d kept them for himself. They were still in his bedside drawer in the chateau. Side by side. He hadn’t been able to give--to leave one to Thalia after things turned out the way they had. Instead, he kept both. It was the closest he could get to having his girls together, all those years ago. He would open that drawer and stroke the smooth and cold round heads of the rattles and swear to himself that he’d give them to the girls one day, despite that blasted agreement.

–They liked it very much indeed, Mrs Kilmartin.”

–Oh, splendid! Would you like a cuppa? Kilmartin’s just over at Wheezes. He’s looking after the shop because the twins are away. Their sister gave birth last--”

–Yes, I know. That’s why I’m here.”

Mrs Kilmartin squealed again. And then seemed to remember her dignity and cleared her throat. –Yes, yes, thank you for going to us for your custom, my dear. I appreciate it. What shall it be? A rattle again? What’s the name, then?”

Draco nodded. –James Sirius Potter.”

Mrs Kilmartin smiled widely and waddled back to her counter. She had a large collection of silver rattles, not all of them brand new. But the one she showed Draco was not unlike the ones he’d bought for his girls. The silver looked warm somehow, not tarnished, but not gleaming in a vulgar manner either. Draco nodded his approval, and Mrs Kilmartin went to work right there. It was a talent worth marvelling at. Mrs Kilmartin might be a silly old gossip, but she knew how to wield her set of burins.

She was done before Draco could finish trying to decipher the runes on a giant Japanese-style bamboo fan.

Draco paid, and she babbled something about having a handsome pair of Ilocos gold rings already set aside. He didn’t ask what or where Ilocos was. He just smiled and left before his trepidation could get the better of him.

It was the first time he stepped back into St Mungo’s since that day when he first met his daughters and only got to touch and hold one.

It even smelled the same in Ginny’s room. The scent of disinfectant, baby and flowers engulfed him as he let himself in. And then the sight of Hermione swaying and cooing at the blue gingham bundle in her arms made him pause. You couldn’t not stop moving when you felt your heart stop for a second.




–This is from Lia and Callie,” said Draco, handing a small box wrapped in red and gold to Harry. Gryffindor colours. Hermione saw Harry and Ginny exchange grins.

–Thanks, Malfoy,” said Harry, extending the smile to Hermione. He opened the box and held up a pretty silver rattle. –Engraved, too. Look, Ginny.”

–It’s beautiful! Thank you, Draco,” said Ginny. –Hermione, this will be hard to top.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. –Oh, I won’t bother topping it.” She sat down on the recliner, still cuddling little James. He was such a quiet baby. According to Molly, that didn’t bode well, as Fred and George hardly cried or peeped either. Callie and Lia immediately bracketed her to continue staring at the baby. They were completely fascinated and in love. Couldn’t stop petting James’s toes or head through his swaddling.

Draco gently nudged Callie away so he could sit on the arm of the chair. He peered down on the baby and made a ‘Not bad,’ expression. And then he whispered in her ear, –You didn’t look half as bloated as Ginny does when you gave birth.”

–Oh, shush!” But Hermione was pleased somewhat, although she doubted the truth of that statement. After all, she gave birth to two babies, not just one.

She patted James’s tiny little rump. She remembered holding Lia exactly like this when she was this small. It was snowing, and they sat in a recliner similar to this one. It was her parents’ wedding anniversary. The Grangers and their extended family had come full force, not only for Helen and Logan, but for Hermione and her new baby. Despite the embraces and kisses both she and Lia had received that day, Hermione still caught the speculation and wonderment in some of her relatives’ eyes. None of them expected this. Her great-aunt said it for everyone: –I thought you’d be the type to marry, buy a house, settle in a few years, prepare a nursery secretly from the rest of us, and then surprise us with a cute, beribboned announcement that you’re having a baby.”

–Oh, I will buy a house and prepare a nursery secretly from the rest of you, Auntie.”

They had all laughed.

Except for the cute, beribboned part, that was all Hermione indeed. But life tended to upend and disarrange types. She was just lucky she’d been surrounded by intelligent and supportive family and friends. Snape was the first she’d encountered who uttered the dreaded ‘I thought better of you.’ Merlin, she really very nearly incinerated his portrait then. She’d been bracing herself for such a statement for years, but that didn’t subtract from her fury.





–Prove to us you didn’t just pass off Callie to a nursemaid.”

–Do you even know how to hold it?”

–Did you just call your nephew an ‘it?’ You’re lucky I can’t get up from this bed just now.”

Draco shut out the Weasleys’ bickering and concentrated on aligning his arms and hands just right to hold Potter’s baby.

–It’s like riding a bike, isn’t it?” he found himself murmuring to Hermione as she tucked the blankets around the baby she’d just passed into his arms. –Once you learn, you’d always know how.”

She looked at him and pinkened a little.

–You know how to ride a bike?” asked Harry and Callie in unison.

–Your mother taught me,” Draco said to Callie. –Everyone rides a bike in France. I wanted to teach you, but your grandmother was scandalized at the idea.”

–Look at him, he’s doing perfectly,” said Molly.

–I know,” said Draco. Everyone rolled their eyes at his smug tone. She wanted to tell them that Callie spent the first two years of her life glued to him, but Hermione already knew that, and he didn’t care at all what the others thought or assumed. Passed Callie off to a nursemaid indeed. That was impossible. He didn’t think he’d even taken a bath for those first few months. He’d hop into a hot shower, stand there for a minute, and then run back to his puffskein. At the time, his father had already established himself in the community, and there had been callers who wanted to look in on Draco and Calliope, but Draco stayed upstairs in his apartments and when he came down at last, he used Pansy as a buffer against the women.

He remembered lashing out at one who whispered she would make him very happy; he must be so triste with no one but that baby for company.

His mother was so mortified at the scene Draco caused she hadn’t been able to call anywhere for a month.





Parents are feral creatures.





It snowed on Valentine’s Day. Under a thick, down blanket, Calliope and Thalia stood arm in arm by the window, watching the flakes come down, shadowed and silvered by the approaching dawn.

–Happy birthday, priss,” Lia whispered.

–Happy birthday, swine,” Callie whispered back.

–What’s the best birthday present you’ver ever been given?”

–You.”

–I thought you were going to say a pony, and then I would have hated you.”

–You don’t mean that.”

–You’ll be surprised. Ow! I’m kidding.”

–Anyway, my filly was a Christmas present.”

Lia laughed. Callie grinned but shushed her. The Jessie’s-- Jesusa and Jessica-- stirred in their beds but didn’t rouse. Kia slept on.

–Hey, priss. Who’s going to keep Pipi in the summer?”

Callie lost her grin. –Both of us.” The conviction in that was pure steel.




In the Charms classroom:

–Take care of those, won’t you? Don’t lose them. I hope you wear them all your life until your husbands give you a replacement. I didn’t know what to give you. You two have everything alread--”

–No, we don’t--”

–Anyway, I’m glad your father didn’t beat me to giving you those. Matching lockets are a bit cliche, aren’t they?”

–Merlin, Mum, you’re criticizing your own gifts. We love it. Thank you.”




In the corridor:

–What did you get them?”

–That’s for them to find out first, and you second. Look at that crease. What’s wrong?”

–Sometimes, it’s as if Callie’s got a double-dose of angst from us instead of splitting it with Lia.”

–She got that from you, not me. She’s used to accomplishing or getting things she wants, so--”

–We don’t always get what we want.”

–Unless we move heaven and earth for it.”




In the same corridor:

–Look at them,” said Quillian. –Why don’t we just lock them up in a broom cupboard?”

–Because it’s trite,” said Priscilla. –And we’ll be hexed and expelled.”

–When you get a crease on your forehead, I’ll poke it, too.”

–He didn’t poke it, you cretin.”





In the Potions classroom:

–Callie, look, it’s Pipi!”

–Pipi?”

–Our cat. We named her after Pietro and Pierra. Pipi. Where did you get these made, Dad? They’re ebony?”

–Yes, ebony. It’s a secret where I got them made. I’ll have you know I only give those little carvings to people I adore.”

–Does Mum have one?”

–Why, yes, my broody little puffskein, she does.”
Chapter Endnotes: A/N: *shame-faced* I’m so sorry for the months’ worth of no-update. Same old, same old ‘busy-busy with original fiction and got side-tracked writing another fan fic’ (which placed in the Dramione Remix Round Two!). I’ll make no promises or pledges any longer, but this story’s remaining memories and events are mapped out to the end and ready to roll.

In the film version of The Secret Garden, Mary’s and Colin’s mothers are twins (in the book, Colin’s mother is sister to Mary’s father, but anyway), and they have twin ivory elephants. So here Callie and Lia have twin cats. Made by Draco, yes. He carves. If you’ve read the companion fic, you know that. If you haven’t, why go to the Abduction of Persephone for details and a preview of what’s to come here.

Ilocos is a province in the Philippines. My parents’ original wedding rings (that is, the ones they exchanged at their wedding; they have since bought/worn other ‘wedding rings’, which I think is weird and disloyal somehow, hehe) are Ilocos gold. I’ve already called dibs to inherit the things; they’re so pretty! Not flashy yellow like the usual 24k, you know? They’re...soft-looking (literally soft, too, of course. You could pull and push them in and out of shape with your fingers), as if they’re antiques though they’re not. I don’t believe in silver wedding rings because they tarnish. Gold or platinum are the ideal symbols of love til-death-do-us-part, imo, but platinum is white, and in a Barbara Cartland novel I read (ten years ago, I think) the heroine quotes, –Green and white, forsaken quite.” She (and me, by extension) is therefore leery of white metals and emeralds.

Pipi is of course a tribute to Pippi Longstocking.

Btw, I just luuuuuuuuuuuuuuurve fierce Mummy Hermione and Daddy Draco, don’t you? ;) Thank you for reading. Please review if you have time. Blubbering thank you to my reader-reviewers so far! *gromps*

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