Draco almost flinched at being caught. He not only considered lying, he actually already tasted the lie in his teeth.
He didn’t like the taste. And damn it all, he was certainly not about to spit out something vile to his daughter.
He took a deep breath. “That’s an unfair question, Callie.”
She gaped and glared at him. He barely noticed. He was on a roll, his brain chugging a mile a minute as he worked it out. It was all he could do not to sigh in relief.
“...how it’s unfair! Only if you lie to me!” Callie was saying.
“It’s unfair because if I answer either way, I’m telling you your mother’s name, and I told you I can’t do that. Who’s to know you’ll stop at ‘Her’ and ‘Herm’? You can’t ask me to eliminate name syllables to narrow down your search.”
Callie stopped opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish and scowled, staring at him suspiciously. Draco kept his face impassive, but he let a grin tug at his mouth, to show her it was no big deal and that he was amused at having trumped a question. It was the exact opposite of how he felt. Merlin, she was sharp! He was a third exasperated, a third cowed and a third bloody proud of her.
Suddenly, she hung her head. “I can’t see why I can’t know her name anyway,” she said quietly. “That agreement was only between the two of you. I didn’t agree to anything. I think every child has a right to know who her mother is.”
It felt like someone clobbered him with a Bludger bat. And Bludgers pummelling him everywhere. His stomach clenched, his jaw clenched, he wanted to cry out. He also wanted to pound a certain snake’s face.
But the snake was nowhere near. There was only Callie. Poor Callie. Draco wrapped both arms around her waist and pulled her to him, cradling her in his lap like he used to do when she was smaller. “You do know her, love. You don’t need her name. You know your mother. I see her in you. How and why else do you think I get by, huh?”
Callie turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. He pleaded to her with his eyes. She sighed. And like the little woman she was, she showed him mercy and let the matter drop. Draco dropped his forehead on her nape and did what probably all fathers did: silently vowed he would protect her and keep her safe and happy. Without need of her mother.
Hermione poked owl treats through the bars of the cage. The tawny peeked with one eye at the noise and then tucked her head back under her wing. Bizarre. A non-nocturnal owl. Hermione wondered what name Lia would come up with for this bird.
The cage was in the kitchen because Hermione had been afraid the coming and going of the owl might disturb Lia in her sleep.
Quietly, Hermione went to the window she had left open for the bird and drew it shut. They could just let the bird out in the morning. In the meantime, Hermione could do without the unseasonably chill breeze wafting in.
Or was it just her? Shivering in the memories?
She’d thought the hurt had long healed. But awhile ago, she seemed to have peeled off the scab. Now the wound was exposed again. And as with all exposed wounds, it stung.
“Mum?”
Hermione jumped. “Thalia. Merlin, don’t do that again.”
“Do what again? Just kidding, Mum. Sorry. Why are you still awake?”
“I should be the one asking you that.” Hermione retreated from the moonlight, moving toward the stairs. Her cheeks were wet. She didn’t want Lia to see. “Come on, back to bed with you.”
“I only got up to get some water, Mum. My jug’s empty. You don’t have to tuck me back in.”
“I want to. The nights I tuck you in are numbered now.”
Thalia made a small noise of exasperation. She joined Hermione on the stairs with a jug of water, the ice cubes tinkling inside it as they climbed up together. Thalia was yawning, leaning on her mother’s arm.
She did let Hermione tuck her in again. For some minutes though, Hermione remained sitting there, gazing at her daughter’s face. She almost jumped again when Thalia opened her eyes.
“Mum, were you crying downstairs?”
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out.
“I’m sorry I prodded you about D-dad. I won’t do it again.”
Hermione felt it best to just smile and kiss Thalia. She buried her face in her daughter’s neck and breathed her in. Her panacea.
“It’s supposed to be my birthday. How come this chit’s got more presents?”
“Leave her alone. Do you want more ice cream, Lia?”
Hermione grinned to herself but shook her head at Ginny, who was afflicted with a weird kind of the doldrums these days. She hated Harry and doted on Lia with such ferocity that Hermione always needed all the Weasleys’ help just to get Lia home without Ginny bursting into tears. “She’s had more than enough ice cream, Ginny.”
Ginny sniffed and freshened Lia’s butterbeer instead. Hermione smiled until Ginny turned away. Leaning toward Harry, she whispered, “All this sugar will come out later. I’m thinking of making Lia sleep over.”
“No, Hermione!” Harry whispered back, mocking horror.
They laughed companionably. Fred and George yelled for Lia from the garden at that moment. Lia promptly jumped up and parted the sea of people like Moses to get to her uncles, not that the people didn’t make way for her either. She was the baby of the party, always had been and always would be until ”
“When is Ginny due?”
“In the first week of February.”
Hermione smirked. “Did you conceive on Beltane?”
Harry sputtered into his butterbeer. Hermione thumped him on the back, laughing. “You don’t have to answer that. But I’ll have you know Beltane conceptions are special.”
“Like Lia?”
“Yes. But they came overdue, you know.”
Hermione smiled at that, and then grew quiet. She jumped when she heard a loud smack beside her. Harry had hit his own forehead.
“Are you alright, Hermione? I’m so sorry ””
“I’m fine,” she squeaked, before choking into a sob.
Harry immediately cast Muffliato and pulled Hermione off the couch to the kitchen, where no one, especially not Lia, would see Hermione crying.
“Ron and I knew this was coming, with Lia going to Hogwarts and all,” Harry said, putting an arm around her.
Hermione nodded, crushing her handkerchief to her face. “Calliope, Harry, Calliope. I’m so ridden with guilt and longing. She’d be going to school this year, too. I wish I could ””
Harry made her drink water. Voicing her wishes would only be more painful. “I’m sure her father’s taking care of her.”
Hermione gasped, and then smiled faintly. As though reading her thoughts, Harry scowled. “That doesn’t mean I think well of the bastard. I’m just reassuring you and I know your daughters’ charms. I mean, if Lia’s any indication, that wanker’s probably head-over-heels over Calliope like we are over Lia.”
Hermione took a deep breath. “Thalia knows about her father now, you know. Going to Hogwarts triggered questions.”
Harry nodded. “I didn’t expect anything less. Wait, she knows everything?”
Hermione shook her head sadly. “No, of course not. She doesn’t know why her father and I separated ways. She doesn’t know she has a twin sister. I envy her ignorance.”
“It’s going to be alright, Hermione,” said a new voice.
Harry lifted the Muffliato as Ron draped his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll be with you all the way.”
Hermione smiled. He’d said the exact same thing eleven years ago. She felt like crying again and scolded herself inwardly. “How do you know what we were talking about?” she said lightly instead.
“I’m not daft,” Ron said, scowling at her and Harry. “I saw this coming, you know.”
“Harry said so.”
“So when I saw you two here ” Don’t worry, Hermione. And we’ll also be there at King’s Cross, the whole lot of us.”
“Of course we will, you dolt.”
It was Ginny, who grabbed a dish towel with a malevolent look at Harry, who just smiled back timidly. “I’m not letting my Lia leave for school without me, and no one had better try make me stay in bed no matter how much I puke.”
“You’re making me dizzy, Draco, will you please sit down?”
Draco sat down. But only because his legs chose that moment to give. Pansy had moved to another orchid and allowed him to see the grandfather clock inside the sitting room through the sliding glass doors of the terrace.
Only five more hours and his baby girl would be on her way to Hogwarts. Less than five hours and he’d be at Platform Nine and Three Quarters after more than a decade. And he knew he’d be standing there right along with her and their other daughter.
“It won’t be that bad. The platform will be teeming,” said Pansy Fisher. She smiled over at him from between the foliage of her ferns and flowers. Even now, Draco always needed to blink to even recognise his friend. Aside from the same black hair and the same pouting pug-like face, almost no trace of the old self-absorbed spoiled bint there. Pansy had been charmed and bewitched by a Muggle (several hexes and even a Memory charm from her notwithstanding) and had been transfigured into a sweet motherly creature.
The Malfoys had stayed at the Fishers’ East Sussex home overnight and would later go to King’s Cross together. Patrick Fisher was a lawyer and his family was quite more than respectable, though Muggle. Draco was still not clear where the bloke was ensnared by Pansy’s charms, (probably when Pansy made the rounds of Muggle London after war), but he seemed ensnared still. No wonder Pansy was so... benevolent.
At the moment, Patrick was upstairs, tending to little Thea, their daughter, while Pansy had her daily respite among her plants. Only the four of them were awake yet. There was no hurry. Callie being Callie, she had packed all her Hogwarts things in July.
This left Draco with nothing else to do than stew in his nerves and... there was something else, a feeling which made him only a quarter-reluctant to go to King’s Cross.
“I’m actually excited and hoping I’d get a glimpse of your other daughter.”
Draco felt the blood leave his head. For a moment, he wondered whether he’d thought aloud. Pansy chuckled, but not unkindly. “Drink your tea before you faint.”
“Honestly, Father, one would think I’m going across the Atlantic. And one would think you’re not a man. Aren’t fathers usually glad to get rid of their daughters, Aunt Pansy?”
Oh, there she was. Why didn’t he hear her, sense her coming? She kissed both his cheeks and hugged him for good measure. “I’ll miss you, too, you know. I’ll owl you every day.”
Pansy sniffled into her Lady’s Slippers. Draco scowled at her, but her image blurred, his eyes were stinging!
Horrified, he buried his face into Callie’s shoulder. “Do me a favour, love, and wear those slippers until we get to King’s Cross.”
Pansy tip-tapped over in her heels and joined Callie in looking down at the latter’s feet, and at the pink bunny slippers encasing them. The two females exchanged bemused looks, but didn’t comment.
Pansy shook a hand bell on the table. Sadie, Pansy’s young Muggle maid attired in a baby pink and grey tartan uniform, came. “Breakfast, ma’am? Right away. Is that all?”
“Tell my husband to come down with Thea, please.”
Sadie bobbed a curtsy. No wonder Pansy adored her. Draco resisted rolling his eyes and instead stroked Callie’s hair.
“This is a first.”
“What is, Daddy?”
“You’re not dressed.”
“Well, I can’t wear my Hogwarts robes until I’m on the platform at least, right?”
“Right.”
“So I had trouble choosing what to wear today. I didn’t want to agonise over it so I just went ahead and came down. Aunt Pansy and Grandmother can help me later.”
“We’ll be glad to, darling,” said Narcissa, joining them. Lucius seemed to be in a surly mood and only nodded at them all while Pansy’s servants laid the table.
Patrick arrived with the baby, who dominated the meal with her babbling and antics. Lucius remained quiet, though. Brooding.
“Father, you don’t have to come with us, you know,” Draco blurted, no longer able to take in Lucius’s moroseness. “Don’t stare a hole into Pansy and Patrick’s table.”
To everyone’s surprise and to Draco’s consternation, his father laughed. “Son, if you want to brood yourself, we have plenty of time. Don’t lash out at your old man because of envy.”
“Mother, is he drunk?”
“None of your cheek, boy. You have as much reason to be told you don’t have to come with us and if I stare a hole in Pansy and Patrick’s table, I’ll be merely building on what you have begun.”
“Calliope, don’t mind them. They’re both being ridiculous idiots,” came Narcissa’s cutting remark, with enough venom and warning for both father and son to come to.
Lucius raised his brows and shrugged apologetically, first to his hosts and then to Callie. “Of course I have to come, Draco, Callie’s my granddaughter.”
“And she’s my daughter.”
“And our table has no holes whatsoever. Still solid narra, every inch of it. Not that you won’t be welcome to drill some holes either,” Patrick added gravely.
Pansy laughed. Thea giggled. Narcissa smiled. Callie grinned, albeit bewildered. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and scowled at his father, who only smirked at him.
Of course, Patrick was ‘conveniently called off’ on an urgent matter just as they were ready to climb into two cars. Pansy played her part of disgruntled wife well, and then they were off to take Callie to her ‘boarding school’, Patrick none the wiser to the Muggle-repelling charm he’d been subjected to for the day from Draco’s car.
Draco drove in silence, his father beside him. In the back seat, Callie lounged between her grandmother and Pansy. All of them except Draco were wearing hats.
Lucius wore his dark fedora, the one he usually wore to golf with his two Muggle planter chums. Narcissa and Pansy both had on modestly-brimmed hats to match their trouser suits, navy and peach respectively.
Callie ” well, his Callie looked adorable in her pink cloche. Draco kept looking at her from the rear view mirror. She looked like a baby again. She had donned it in jest to match her bunny slippers. But she also wore a pink blouse underneath her denim skirt and blazer.
He adored her but he was mainly glad her hair wasn’t seen.
Even his mother had piled her hair under her hat. Lucius had tucked his under his jacket.
They’d be inconspicuous as could be.
Draco hoped.
At the same time, he promised himself he wouldn’t look around for redheads. No, he wouldn’t.
He pulled in at King’s Cross with his heart acting like it wanted to part from his chest.
“I saw the funniest thing, Mum, there’s one girl here in the platform wearing her bedroom slippers! At least I’m wearing shoes, huh?”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I think I shoved them on your feet, too. It’s a miracle we got here with minutes to spare.”
The entire party rolled their eyes. Molly smiled.
“Hermione, dear, it’s only ten-fifty and Lia’s trunk is well-stashed in the train. We’ve made good time. Certainly the best time for me with you lot, in fact.”
Instead of calming her down, Hermione’s stomach plummeted at her honorary mother’s words. She suddenly wanted to cry and bolt, dragging Thalia with her.
Ten-fifty. Gods, only ten minutes and her Thalia was leaving.
“Mum, I didn’t get Erato for nothing, you know. You’ll see her every day with letters from me, I promise.”
A cloud of steam, this time more business-like than the others, billowed again from the Hogwarts Express. Hermione drew a deep breath, clinging to her resolve not to cry. She wouldn’t succumb to that silliness.
All the same, her eyes smarted. She was glad for the smoke. It was an excuse for blinking.
As though the Grangers, Weasleys and Potters knew her dilemma, they drew off a bit, leaving her to her daughter.
“Alright, Thalia, I’ll be looking forward to your daily notes. They don’t have to be long, you know ” just ” I’ll miss you so much. We’ve been such good friends, haven’t we, love?”
Thalia nodded. “I’ll miss you too, Mum.”
They stood there for a moment, and then moved at the same time. Mother and daughter seeking and giving love in each other’s arms.
“I won’t bore you with rules and warnings,” Hermione whispered into Thalia’s hair. “I trust you, baby. You’ll do all of us proud. You already do, actually. And for that, I packed you ””
“S’mores?”
Hermione laughed. “Yes.”
“But I packed her some, too,” said Harry.
“And we did, too,” added Fred and George.
Hermione only pretended to groan. She basked in watching her daughter being doted on by the throng.
Ginny had Thalia in a death grip and looked like she wouldn’t let go. Not that Hermione would mind much if Thalia missed the train...
As the whistled sounded, that stinging pain came to life again. She held Thalia to herself for the last time in many months and let go. Oh, gods, how that hurt. But she was confusing feelings and memories and meshing them into one jumble. She was also thrilled for her daughter.
“Owl me tonight. Your house.”
“Slytherin,” Fred said.
“Gryffindor, you git,” Ron countered.
Thalia was laughing, hopping from one hug to the next. Hermione kept her eyes on Thalia’s every movement. She wanted to sear each second of this event in her memory. But as Thalia jumped onto the train at last, a flash of light hair that wasn’t Thalia’s but very like Thalia’s made her head turn.
But there was no one there, only lots of brown, black, gray and red heads, and hats. And a glimpse of a lovely crocheted cloche on a student also hopping onto the train. Hermione remembered she had made one for Thalia.
She turned back to her daughter. The Hogwarts Express began to inch away from the platform.
“Wow, it’s moving!” Thalia shouted.
“Trains move, love.”
There were melodramatic gasps beside and behind Hermione. She ignored them. Thalia was grinning gleefully. “I love you, Mum.”
Hermione sighed. “I love you, Thalia.”
“Merlin, they’re so close, take a look, you imbecile!”
“I’m not an imbecile, Pansy, and if you’re not one, why don’t you look?” Draco gritted out through clenched teeth.
“No, thanks, I don’t like looking, falling in love and not getting.”
“Shut up, then.”
Curse those Weasleys for their hair. It was all he could do not to snatch his father’s or even his mother’s hat and clap them on his cheeks just so he wouldn’t have red in his vision. Literally and figuratively. He wouldn’t be surprised if he went home blind. It was like denying his fingers to scratch an itch, what he was doing. He trained his eyes on his front even though they wanted to roam to the left. He just knew who was in the middle of the redheaded band.
Callie was likewise in their centre. By her own choice. She was embarrassed with her slippers and had them wall her in until the last minute when she had to board. He’d told her no one would see her feet on the train and by the time she boarded, she could change into her mary janes, which was in her trunk.
“What are you and Father whispering about, Aunt Pansy?”
“Nothing, Callie, Aunt Pansy’s complaining about the crowd.”
Callie ignored him. This slipper fiasco was his fault.
But the whistle sounded just then and suddenly, Callie was clinging to him.
“Bye, Daddy. Thank you for sending me to Hogwarts even though you didn’t want to.”
He was speechless. He just watched as his mother and then Pansy grabbed Callie in turn. His father went down on one knee and embraced Callie for about a minute.
“Make us even prouder of you, darling,” Narcissa said tremulously.
“No, no, she doesn’t have to do a thing,” said Lucius, his jaws clenched. “Just be your pure, angelic self, Calliope.”
“Daddy, say something.”
They were all looking at him. Callie held his hand.
There was nothing else. “I love you, Calliope.” He didn’t bother going down on one knee, he just scooped his baby into his arms. “You’ll be fine. And... I’m so sorry about the agreement, love. Can you forgive me?”
She nodded, kissed his cheek, and wriggled down. She bounded to the train as though afraid he’d carry her there. When she faced them again, she was grinning.
“What if I’m not in Slytherin?”
Draco mocked horror and turned to his father. “She’ll still be my daughter then, won’t she?”
Lucius snorted. “I think so.”
“No problem, then, Callie.”
“I love you, Daddy. Love you, Grandma, Grandfather, Aunt Pansy. I’ll write soonest.”
Draco nodded, putting his fist to his mouth. He Disapparated before he lost his dignity.
When he arrived back near Pansy’s backyard, he leaned against the nearest tree and sighed, holding it in as long as he could without breathing out.
Merlin, he’d breathed the same air she did in the last half hour.
Author’s Note: The Ministry had cars. And I think the automobile was too major a breakthrough in the Muggle world to be dismissed by the Wizarding. If it was, why was Ron such a knowledgeable driver at twelve? And of course, can’t see a Malfoy being beaten at something by a Weasley, right? I imagine Draco also had lessons with Wizarding cars.
As to Lucius, these chums he has are his neighbouring planters in Chablis. It’s inevitable that they make acquaintances. And of course, Lucius has to kill time like any other. They golf. If you’re a Malfoy connoisseur, it’s not hard to imagine Lucius being subtle and all savoir faire at slowly absorbing Muggle jargon and tradition and sport. In my mind, he and Mssrs Carew and Murier are rather like Draco with Crabbe and Goyle, only more intelligent and with the egotistical jibes spewing from all sides. Lucius would like that. LOL.
And they’re off to Hogwarts! Aww. So I thought we could do with another chapter in Hermione and Draco’s POV. The rest will alternate between Lia and Callie. *grins sheepishly* Sorry for being so long in updating, lovies. Life happened. Busyness and non-busyness and in between, writer’s block. But rest assured I’ll finish what I started in this. Please review. There’s a reason why it’s called ‘feedback’. ^_^ Thank you! Any bets on who goes to which house?