章 16: Epilogue
Epilogue
"I said SLOW DOWN! I'm only four. My legs aren't as long!"
"You can climb on my back if you want to."
"Or the prat ahead could SLOW DOWN!"
"You don't even know what a prat is."
"Maybe not. But you had to slow down to tell me that. So, HAH!"
Draco Malfoy slowly shook his head as he listened to his brood communicating in their diverse ways. Four-year-old Daphne Lily was just as Slytherin as her namesake, slyly getting her eleven-year-old brother Jamie to slow down in the forward motion he was always in. And then there was eight-year-old Thisala Molly who, in her heroic Gryffindor nature, had tried to make peace by offering Daphne a ride on her back. Finally, there was Sirius Albus who was currently still in utero, but kicking his legs valiantly in an effort to keep up with his siblings-a fetal Hufflepuff wanting to be with the gang. Draco rubbed his belly, telling Sirius it was all right, that there would come a day he could annoyingly tag-along with his sibs without Papa's help.
"You okay?"
He looked over at his husband and nodded. "I'm fine, Harry. This is my fourth pregnancy; I'm bound to have it down to an art form by now."
"Hey, you're the one all 'let's keep ahead of the Weasleys.' Just because Ron and Hermione have three children..."
"Keep on ranting and there will be no more children or sex in your future," Draco warned. He certainly wasn't going to try for the number the elder Weasleys had and besides, they were wealthy enough to afford however many they wanted. Anyway, Harry knew as well as he did that Sirius hadn't been planned. One minute they were at some Elven celebration of one thing or another (elves liked to party) and the next, they were waking up behind a clump of bushes minus trousers and pants.
"Aw, Draco, you know I'm just worried."
"And how many times have I told you, and Mother has told you, that I've become so Elven, pregnancy isn't a problem for me."
"Except when you get stuck in soft chairs and hunt for a bathroom every hundred meters."
"Fuck you, because I know who won't be doing it," Draco hissed as they trailed behind their children in search of a good picnic spot in the crowded London park.
"Even if I give you a foot massage?"
The problem with being bound to someone for nearly twelve years was that they knew you too well. "And a back rub."
Harry reached out and grabbed his hand. "And a back rub. You have tomorrow off, right?"
"Of course I do. The Ministry can do without their Minister of Elven-Wizard Affairs for one more day." He'd taken the week to spend this special time with his family.
"This spot all right, Papa?"
He glanced around. "It's a fine spot, Jamie. You can go off to the lake if you want."
"Can we go, too, Papa?" the girls cried.
Draco looked at his son. This was Jamie's day; he'd abide by his wishes. Jamie shrugged and smiled. "All right, but stay close to and listen to your brother. In a few years it'll be you going off Hogwarts the next day and you'll not be wanting your siblings to be a pain either."
Harry snorted as the kids took off toward the lake, Foom-Foom dangling precariously in Daphne's grasp. "Off to Hogwarts-like we don't live at Hogwarts."
Hogwarts wanted Jamie at Hogwarts. That much had been obvious long ago. Before Madam Pomfrey had confirmed Thisala was on the way, Jamie had woke them with a "Thank you for my very own room, Daddy and Papa." It seemed the castle had added a room, complete with everything a little boy could want. Thisala's room had appeared when Daphne did, and how they knew Sirius was on the way had been interesting. After waking up in the bushes, they had claimed their children and left the realm with the foggiest of memories. Ten-year-old Jamie, happy to be back at Hogwarts (Jamie loved Hogwarts, so actually it really didn't matter how much Hogwarts wanted him; he wanted it as much), had eagerly raced off to their rooms while his parents lagged behind. By the time they collapsed on the sofa, Jamie was perched on the coffee table, looking at them solemnly.
"Dad, Papa."
Draco knew that tone. That tone said that Jamie had something of a serious nature to discuss. He hadn't felt up to having a serious discussion, but as a parent, he'd sucked it up and plunged forward. "What is it, Jamie? You know you can tell us anything."
"Daphne has her own room."
Draco patted the round mound of his happy surprise of several months ago. "Yes, off to Hogwarts, off to live in a dormitory instead of their own beds. It'll be different enough, Harry."
"I know," Harry said as he helped Draco to the blanket-covered ground. "I don't even want to consider what our rooms are going to be like without him. No more spending the night in the realm for you for a while, all right?"
"Not without you," Draco agreed. "So how are the newest recruits looking?" H.O.M.E. had survived the death of Voldemort. Instead of just protecting Hogwarts, they now were "let" out to provide security for special events or to help out local constabularies who wanted to avoid the ministry-paperwork hassle of the Aurors. After five years in the service, Harry had been asked to head the militia-especially since he was such a celebrity that it made it hard for him to function as a mere officer.
Harry shrugged. "I think starting orientation after the summer was a good idea. It gives the ones who have just finished Hogwarts enough time to decide if the militia is really what they want to do. We also have a few from other magical institutions who couldn't have made this round if we hadn't pushed orientation back to the end of August."
"Just enough time to get the recruits settled before the Hogwarts students arrive. That was a brilliant idea, by the way," Draco said, lazily laying back on his elbows.
"Of course it was, since you're the one who came up with it," Harry said obediently. He sprawled out on his belly beside Draco. "I'm glad we got all Jamie's shopping done yesterday. I can only imagine how crowded Diagon Alley is today."
"At least he didn't meet any strange, scar-headed boys in Madam Malkin's," Draco said with a smirk. Harry didn't mind his scar much anymore; with Voldemort's death it had paled considerably and never hurt.
"Or a pale little haughty thing with sharp features and a mouth that won't stop."
Draco laughed. "Admit it, Potter-you like my mouth."
Harry moved closer. "Yeah," he said, proving it by attacking Draco's mouth with his own.
"Well, at least no one's going to wonder how I ended up in this condition," Draco said many moments later. He laughed when Harry looked around to make sure no one had been watching them. Harry still hadn't learned to live with their eternal gawkers. It was bad enough that he was Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, but he was married to Draco Malfoy-son of a Death Eater, only known Progenitor, Elven mudblood, and co-killer of the evil, dread Dark Lord Voldemort. Draco was pretty sure a picture of the kiss was going to grace the morning cover of The Daily Prophet. It was a good thing Jamie had learned to live with his family's infamy and would just laugh off the comments he was going to get on the Hogwarts Express.
"Are we going to do this every year?" Harry asked.
"What? Kiss? I was thinking about doing it more than once a year," Draco purred.
"No, silly. I mean, come to London so that the children can ride the train with the rest of the students. I like the idea."
Draco nodded. "I think it's important because, you know, there was a lot of groundwork for the year established on the train ride."
"Yeah, like which Slytherins to steer clear of."
"Quiet, you flatterer you."
Harry grinned. "You know, some show-off Seventh Year is going to be in for a rude awakening tomorrow, thinking Jamie is just a typical ickle Firstie. But I personally know his papa has shown him a few eye-opening tricks."
"Not to mention the ones his dear ol' dad had already taught him. Maybe they'll have sense enough to steer clear of him once he mentions his name."
"Didn't stop you from messing with the Harry Potter."
Draco sniffed rather loudly. "Actually, it made me mess more."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Besides, I was talking more about the Malfoy part of his name more than the Potter part." He was counting on Jamie getting the message across that the Malfoy-Potter children were not to be trifled with. All the "Houses" in Jamie left him pretty balanced; sure, he rushed in Gryffindor-style, but with Slytherin subtle wiliness, Ravenclaw thought clarity, and Hufflepuff fair good-nature. The girls, on the other hand, in defense of their family, would perpetrate utter, unapologetic devastation upon their perceived enemy. Harry, bless his muggle-raised heart, thought the girls were mostly sugar and spice; Draco-who with one mother a witch, the other an elf, and an aunt who would've given the Dark Lord a run for his money if she had been anywhere near sane-knew better.
"You think your name inspires more respect?"
"More terror is more like it."
Harry sighed and dropped his head. "You're probably right." Then he brightened. "But at least he won't be a Slytherin."
The Sorting Hat had called for Jamie early in the summer. What all went on, only the Hat and Jamie knew for sure, but Jamie had come back to their rooms saying he was going to be a Ravenclaw so that his family would represent all the Houses. Since it was obvious which Houses Thisala and Daphne would represent, that left Sirius to be a Hufflepuff.
At least it wouldn't be such a shock come Sorting Day eleven years from now.
"What time is everyone else expected to arrive?"
Harry looked at his muggle watch. "Shortly. No one else has little ones old enough for Hogwarts yet so they're just in London for the afternoon. Next year will be different. Ron and Hermione's oldest will be eleven."
"She fancies our Jamie, you know."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ariel just considers him her heroic older brother."
Draco rolled his eyes back at Harry. "Mark my words-that girl's going to be our daughter-in-law some day. She has her mother's brain and her grandmother's tenacity. Jamie is as good as wed."
"You make it sound as if our son is a pushover."
"Hah. Haven't you noticed? He fancies her, too."
Harry stared at him. "Where are you getting this from, Draco? I'm around the children as much as you are, and I-"
"Mark my words, Potter. At least their children will have the royal Elven hair and not that hideous red stuff."
"So have you added clairvoyance to your bag of tricks?" Harry twirled an aged dandelion in his hand and Draco glared at him. He did NOT want to spend hours brushing fluff out of his hair.
"Just preparing for an inevitable future, Harry." He scowled as a puff of air sent floating seeds in his direction. "The inevitable future without sex."
Harry laughed and picked another dandelion. "Try another tactic, Draco. You know you only married me for the sex. You are insatiable."
"I didn't marry you just for the sex; I married you for everything I ever wanted."
Harry dropped the dandelion and looked at him solemnly. "And how did that work out for you?"
"Better than I planned; better than I could have ever expected," he replied, just as somber. "What about you?"
Harry shrugged. "I'm not the kind of man who makes plans-I'm a purely fly-wherever-my-broom-takes-me guy. So you, my life with you, wasn't planned by any stretch of the imagination. But now that I'm here, with you and however many children you wish to grant me, I can honestly say there's no way I could be happier or more satisfied or more content. You saved more than yourself back then, Draco."
Draco sniffed and averted his eyes. "You know I'm carrying a Hufflepuff, Harry. He's totally co-opted my emotional system."
Harry laughed and laid his head on Draco's shoulder. "You're the biggest, fluffiest fraud I know."
"Please leave me my delusions," Draco begged. "Before four babies, I was an actual hard-arsed cynic, wasn't I?"
"One word answer to that, Draco: Foom-Foom."
"Shit," he sighed. "At least I'm a good parent, right? Jamie-well, Jamie's Jamie. Thisala is so you, it's not even funny. Daphne-Daphne has her moments, but have you noticed? Once she gets her way, she can be quite pleasant."
"Not a normal Slytherin at all," Harry agreed agreeably.
"And Huffie here, there's probably not much I can do to screw him up. So, good parent."
"Excellent parent."
"And a good minister?"
"Not anything like Fudge or the rest. No playing politics for you: your way or no way," Harry teased.
Draco shrugged. "Not like I can be bought or anything. No one's richer than we are."
"And your mum's her majesty Queen Arelia, Queen Regnant of the Kherin, Ruling Monarch of the Elven Realm, and Commander-In-Chief of the Combined Armies of the Five Original Realms of Magic."
"There is that. And while we're on the subject, I'm a good elf and wizard, too. I really want both sides to be comfortable with each other."
"Only having a limited number of gates for each to pass into the other's realm was a brilliant idea, a simple way to know who's where at all times."
"Thank you. I'm a good friend?"
"You demanded a nursery at the Ministry Complex because so many of our friends work there and have children."
"Actually, I demanded it because the Wizard Resource Office said it couldn't be done."
"You asked your mother for a wing of the Elven palace so that our friends could stay over whenever they want."
"Mother Arelia is so easy."
Harry snorted. "Tell that to the rest of the Ministry and Dumbledore."
"Amateurs."
"Draco?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"You're good, okay? It's nothing to be ashamed of. You're good. Live with it."
"Fine, but I'm blaming you, by the way. Whatever I am, it's all your fault."
Harry smiled. "I can live with that."
Before Draco could reply, someone called out their names, and they looked up to the Weasley clan descending upon them, closely followed by the recently wed Blaise and Pansy. Family. Friends. It wasn't what he'd Planned that traumatic Yule long ago, but Fate seemed to Plan well enough on her own.
He could live with that.
THE END
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