Author's Notes:

Here's Chapter 119 for you!

This is the fifth of the short nine Christmas themed chapters coming this summer. It's also the fourth chapter this month. I hope this makes up for April when there were no uploads because of university. I might upload chapter 120 this month, or I might save it for 1st August, my 25th Birthday, as I like to upload a new chapter on my birthdays. Depends if I can write Chapter 121 as well by the end of the month.

Love DW

PS Enjoy x

Draco spends most of the morning at the dining table, furiously scribbling notes upon rolls of parchment. Hermione leaves him to it, although she does think about buying him a notebook for Christmas so he could keep his thoughts together in one place. She spends her morning having some mother-son time with Scorpius as she bathes and dresses him in a grey pair of trousers and a red Weasley jumper, with a golden snitch flying on the front. It had been a present from the staff of Hogwarts, although both Hermione and Draco assumed McGonagall had been the one to choose the gift.

After spending hours decorating their house with all the Christmas decoration that had bought at the beginning of the month, they had discovered Scorpius loved the colours and twinkling of the fairy lights. As such, for most of the day, their Christmas tree lights were switched on and to the side, that had placed their son's Moses basket. At ten o'clock, she applies more of the teething gel, placing him in the Moses basket, turning the lights on, and sits in the armchair to read to him from a book of nursery rhymes that her grandma Emily had gifted Scorpius. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, at which point Hermione has a shower and uses her free time to style her hair and apply a little makeup before dressing in a knee-length silver dress.

Lounging on the couch, Hermione picked up her book from the coffee table, losing track of time until the clock struck one o'clock and she remembers Draco still needs to shower and dress. She has to force him to put his pen and parchment away, but eventually, he runs upstairs, and Hermione hears the shower start.

She wakes Scorpius up at half-past one, feeding him a bottle so he would be happy for his first time meeting the staff of Hogwarts. Draco joins her downstairs, freshly showered and dressed in a smart pair of jeans, a black shirt and a dark green zip-up jumper. She can tell he has spent time sculpturing his hair into perfect, soft waves away from his face. He smiles, arms open as he does a spin.

Hermione laughs, "Your daddy is silly," she whispers to Scorpius, supporting him to sit up on her lap. "And also, very handsome." She adds.

Draco rolls his eyes, taking Scorpius up into his arms, "So is my little Scorpius," he tells him sweetly. "But what has your mother done to your hair?" He asks, sending a teasing smirk over to his wife as he sits beside her, producing a small pot of hair gel from his back pocket.

Hermione shakes her head fondly as she packs Scorpius bag for the afternoon while Draco fixes their son's hair. Once he's done, his light brown curly hair has been combed back, his curl pattern still prominent.

"Look at my smart boy," she cuddles her son close to her chest. "You do realise you will be doing his hair every day from now on." She tells Draco, looking proudly at his piece of work.

"I have no problem with that," he admits, fixing one little piece of his son's hair at the back of his head.

"Okay, I think he's done," Hermione laughs. "Come on; we're probably going to be late." She walks over to the fireplace, ready to floo to their quarters at Hogwarts.

Hermione and Draco had received a letter from Minerva last Monday inviting them and Scorpius to join the staff and students for Hogwarts' annual Christmas feast. They had accepted straight away, not wanting to miss the Christmas season at Hogwarts, the most beautiful time of the year in the castle.

When they arrive, Draco a few seconds after Hermione and Scorpius, they find their rooms exactly how they had left it before they had gone on leave. One of Hermione's books was still open on their coffee table, a shoe Draco had kicked to the side three months ago was still propped up against the wall, and a cloak was still resting over the back of the couch. The only evidence that the house-elves had been visiting their rooms was the lack of dust coating the furniture.

It was nearly two o'clock, the time they had agreed to meet their colleagues in the staffroom, so they leave, walking up the narrow staircase from the dungeons up to the foyer.

A few second-year students are entering from outside, faces red from being out in the cold but smiling after having some fun.

"Professors!" They gasp, running over excitedly.

"Is that your baby?" A young Ravenclaw boy asks.

"No, this is a different baby," Draco states, deadpan, earning open mouth stares from the children.

"Yes, this is our baby, Professor Malfoy was trying to make a joke." She shakes her head at her husband.

They seem to have attracted a crowd of students of all year groups outside the Great Hall.

"He's adorable," someone calls.

"Is he wearing a red jumper?" Asks Demelza Robins, a seventh year Gryffindor.

"He's definitely going to be a Gryffindor," Natalie McDonald, Demelza's friend announces.

"Come on, he's the son of two of Hogwarts highest achieving students, he's going to be a Ravenclaw," scoffs, Ophelia Rushden, a fifth-year Ravenclaw.

"If intelligence was all that mattered to Ravenclaw, why weren't they in your house, Rushden?" James Tuckett, Ophelia's Hufflepuff classmate mentions.

"Because Malfoy's are always in Slytherin, so he's going to be a Slytherin," Imogen Stretton, the Slytherin prefect announces proudly.

"Okay, students," Hermione calls the group to attention. "We will be proud of whichever house our son is sorted into, but we have eleven years to wait until we find out, so there really isn't any need to argue over this." She explains.

"What is all this commotion?" Neville asks from the back of the crowd, having just finished working in the greenhouses. He spots Hermione and Draco in the centre of the group and smiles. "Of course, come on students, you should all be preparing for the Christmas feast. Back your common room, please." He claps his hands twice, and the crowd disperses, grumbling as they go.

"Thanks, Neville," she hugs her friend tightly, having not seen him since the Christmas Lights Switch on.

The three of them chat as they walk to the staffroom. Draco mentions speaking to his wife the day before at the Leaky Cauldron, although it had felt like a week ago.

"Hannah mentioned seeing you both. Apparently Pansy teases me out of love?" Neville laughs. "I haven't had the chance to use that against her." He adds.

Pansy's reaction flashes across his mind. "Please don't." He groans.

Neville opens the staffroom door for them to enter. Despite it being early afternoon and the first Monday of the Christmas holidays, only a few people were occupying the space.

"Finally," Pansy leaps from where she had been sat cross-legged on an armchair. "Let me see him," she reaches out for Scorpius.

Hermione passes him over to Pansy as Madam Rolanda Hooch and Professor Septima Vector, the only other staff members in the staffroom, gather around to see the baby.

"He's a good-looking babe," Rolanda Hooch states, shaking his little hand.

Scorpius stares at the woman's hawk-like eyes.

"I think he likes you, Rolanda," Septima Vector comments, softly smiling at the baby. "Congratulations." She adds, looking up at Hermione and Draco, two of her favourite former students and now colleagues.

"Thank you, Septima. He's pretty perfect," Hermione grins. "Although he is teething at the moment." She adds.

"I wish you luck," Septima says. "I must excuse myself to change for the feast. It was lovely seeing you both and Scorpius." She explains, leaving the staffroom.

"Where is everyone?" Draco asks.

"You remember that meeting we had the first week back before you both left?" Pansy asks, sitting back down in her armchair, turning Scorpius around so he can see his surroundings.

"Of course, it was nearly three hours long," Draco remembers it well.

"Well, the Ministry was being serious about showing up out of the blue for inspections. Everyone is stressed out because we got an owl at five o'clock on Friday, telling us they'll be coming in within the first week of next term, straight after the holidays." Pansy explains.

"They can't be serious," Hermione frowns. "The holidays are for relaxing with family and friends."

"We haven't been told what the inspectors are even looking for, but Jonathan found an 'expectations for schools' book from Muggle school inspectors. Of course, most of it isn't relevant, but it's the best we've got." Neville chimes in.

"Minerva cancelled classes this week; those students that are going home for Christmas are leaving tomorrow morning. We're spending this week going over our planning for the whole year and checking homework and exams have been marked properly. We're cross-examining each other's work, it's a nightmare." Pansy moans.

"You've got it off easily, Rolanda," Draco comments, her being the flying instructor and Quidditch referee.

The woman laughs, "I help where I can, but I've never set a piece of homework, and there are no exams in flying."

The door bursts open, slamming off the bookshelves behind it. "Bloody Ministry thinking they know what's best for this school when they haven't been back since they graduated. I'll give them a piece of my mind when they come in January. I should never have come back, bloody Malfoy-" Horace stops abruptly in his complaints to Jonathan Atkins when he glances over to the fireplace and sees Draco sat with Hermione in an armchair.

"Nice to see you too, Horace." Draco smiles a nod at his former apprentice tutor.

"I need a drink," Horace announces gruffly, walking over to the kitchen area. "It's lovely to have you back, have you come to rescue me from the Ministry's inane decrees?" He asks dramatically, opening cupboard doors.

"I'm afraid not," Draco smiles, watching in amusement.

"Alas, I shall drown my sorrows in whiskey." He pulls an old bottle of amber liquid out of a cupboard, pouring himself a measure into a mug he finds on the counter. "Don't think I'm going to cover for every child you have. This is the one and only time." He warns him.

"Don't be so dramatic, Horace," Aurora Sinistra rolls her eyes, joining her colleagues at the couches by the fire. "Little Scorpius, such a lovely name," the astronomy professor mentions.

"Thank you, Aurora. His name holds much meaning to us." Draco tells her.

"The Daily Prophet had quite the field day after his name was announced. Pray tell, from where did you get the name Hyperion?" She asks.

"Hyperion?" Horace pauses in the kitchen. "Scorpius Hyperion?" He asks.

Draco stares pointedly at his mentor, warning him against speaking any further about Hyperion.

"Your grandfather would have despised that," he states, drinking from his mug. "Good on you." He adds.

"Horace!" Aurora chides him.

"Am I late?" Filius Flitwick asks, entering with Jonathan Atkins.

"You're right on time." Horace pours a measure of whiskey into another mug, handing it to Filius. "Is anyone else drinking?" He asks the room.

Jonathan raises a finger, joining him and Filius in the kitchen area.

"On time for what, exactly?" Hermione asks.

"We tend to congregate in here to complain about how much work we have to do while actively ignoring the amount of work we have to do," Jonathan explains, joining them with his mug, leaning over the back of Pansy's armchair to see the baby. "How old is he now?" He looks at Draco.

"He's three months and ten days old." He answers.

"How are you both?" Jonathan asks, making conversation.

"We're well." Draco smiles awkwardly, remembering how Hannah had told him he didn't make an effort with his colleague. "How are you and your girlfriend?" He asks in turn.

Jonathan frowns at him, wondering where this sudden interest was coming from. "We're fine."

"Good," Draco nods.

"Welcome back, you two. Where's baby?" Filius asks, sitting beside Aurora on the couches. "May I hold him?" He asks Hermione.

"Of course," Hermione smiles. "Pansy," she turns to her friend, who looks put out to have the child taken away from her.

"Pansy, I assume you see young Scorpius in your personal time," Filius mentions.

She sighs, but stands up, gently handing Scorpius over to Filius, who holds him in his lap. "Hello, Scorpius, look at this mop of waves on your head." He chuckles, stroking the top of their son's head.

Draco scoffs, shaking his head. "I'll have you know that I perfectly styled that mop."

Hermione laughs, "It is a mop though, Draco. He's got so much hair."

"Okay, but his hair is nothing like Potter's boy," he frowns, crossing his arms.

"James' hair is the definition of a mop," Neville agrees, laughing.

"I wasn't expecting him to be this blond." Filius comments.

"He's not blond," Hermione quickly corrects him.

"For having you as his mother, I expected his hair to be a dark brown. This is a very light, but hair usually darkens in the winter months. Just you wait until summer, your son's hair will lighten further. He'll be blond." Filius explains.

Hermione looks up at Draco, who's perched on the arm of her armchair, to find him looking smug. She nudges him. "What?" He asks. "I did tell you the Malfoy genes are dominant." He shrugs.

"Doesn't your mother have dark hair, Draco?" Neville asks.

"She dyes her hair quite frequently, but both my aunts had dark hair, so I assume she did as a child," Draco admits.

"Her hair was dark as a student," Horace confirms.

"This is not making me feel better," Hermione mutters. "He's barely going to resemble me."

"He has your eyes," Rolanda comments.

Hermione watches her son's eyes, shifting from Filius' face to Aurora's face next to them, curiously deciding whether he likes these unfamiliar people. She's glad he hasn't made a fuss yet and laughs along with the rest of the staff room when Scorpius waves his fists towards Filius' moustache.

Eventually, after spending thirty minutes in the staffroom, their son being passed around to every member of staff that wanted a cuddle, Minerva joins them, along with Darius Cain, Bathsheda Babbling and Hagrid, the last members of staff to greet them. Argus Filch tended to avoid the staffroom at all costs, preferring to spend his free time in his office or his quarters. Then Madams Pomfrey and Pince would still be at their posts, as students either took out books for their holiday studying or were being healed back to health.

"Hermione, I forgot you were coming today," Hagrid admits, grinning as he stands behind the couch where Horace was sat, holding Scorpius, with Rolanda sat beside him, keeping an eye on them. "Is this the little tyke?" He asks, pulling a large handkerchief from the pocket of his jacket, dabbing at his eyes.

"Rubeus, there really is no need to cry," Minerva gently tells him.

"It's just, there's so much joy in the world now," he sobs.

"Pull yourself together, the world isn't as full of rainbows and unicorns as you might think," Darius states, holding his own mug out for Filius to fill with whiskey. "There's still darkness in the world." He looks at Scorpius while he waits.

"We'd rather not talk about the prophecy today, thank you, Darius," Hermione states.

Darius nods once, levitating a nearby armchair over to join the circle. He sits down, one leg propped atop his opposite knee, watching on quietly as he sips at his whiskey.

"How are you both?" Minerva asks, smiling down at the young child, still in Horace's arms.

"We are well, he's been sleeping better recently, although he has started teething," Hermione answers.

Horace unexpectedly stands, passing Scorpius to the headmistress. "Here Minerva, I know you have wanted a cuddle all morning." He says, moving to a nearby armchair to allow the headmistress a seat.

Minerva rocks Scorpius in her arms as she takes the vacant space on the couch, beside Rolanda. "He's good as gold," she comments, when the abrupt change of face doesn't upset him.

"He loves meeting new people," Hermione comments.

Draco leans forward, "Do you want a cup of tea?" He asks his wife.

Hermione nods, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before he leaves.

"Parenthood looks good on both of you," Minerva mentions.

Draco smiles shyly, walking over to the kitchen to make himself and his wife a cup of tea before the feast. He had tried his best in the bathroom to style himself in a way that would not let his colleagues or students in on the fact that his thoughts were overtaken with everything that had happened in the past few weeks. He had shaved for the first time since Halloween and that morning's shower had been one of few he had taken since Scorpius' birth. Charms were much easier with a newborn in the house.

"How are the preparations for January coming along?" Hermione asks their headmistress.

Minerva sighs deeply, shaking her head. "Our grades have always been at the top of the world, despite each school's teaching and specialist subjects differing from each other. I foresee the school gaining nothing from these inspections, other than tighter restrictions from the Ministry, which will not benefit us in the slightest." She explains.

"I never thought Kingsley would succumb to power the way he has," Bathsheda Babbling, the Ancient Runes professor claims, joining them with her own cup of tea.

"He's scared," Filius states. "He got a taste for control and power during the trials and the Marriage Decree, but he lost favour within the community as a result. Hardly anybody respects him anymore."

"These inspections are just another way for him to control the various areas of our community," Aurora agrees. "He's raised the rent in Diagon Alley, he's brought journalism under the control of the Ministry, and Azkaban is no longer privately guarded, they're all Ministry officials, who aren't as well trained as the former guards, although at least they did away with the Dementors, and there are more guards now." She explains, and Hermione nods knowingly.

"The majority of newspapers go through the Department of Journalism before being published. Shockingly, the only reliable newspaper currently out there is the Quibbler." Bathsheda adds.

"The Quibbler rarely publish stories on current events though," Neville mentions. "It's more of a travelling newspaper now that Luna and Xenophilius travel all over the world."

"Our country is in quite a state." Minerva sighs.

"Especially with all these attacks going on," Jonathan nods, not mentioning the Death Eaters by name.

The room falls quiet as the words sink in.

"Scorpius is a beautiful child," Minerva mentions, standing and handing him to Hermione. "I look forward to his time here if he takes after the two of you."

Hermione and Draco stare at each other across the staffroom, until both Neville and Pansy burst into laughter.

"Are you serious, Minerva?" Pansy asks, clutching her stomach as she laughs. "Draco was awful. Always out of the common room after hours, bullying other students, trying to start duels, the list goes on. Although, all that was mainly due to Harry Potter." She explains.

"Thanks, Pansy," Draco sighs from the kitchen.

"Hermione was the same because of Harry again, but she was no follower. She was right up there at the front of all the trouble he got into." Neville points out. "It was Hermione that used Petrificus Totalus on me in our first year."

"It seems I misjudged your willingness, Hermione," Minerva admits disapprovingly. "I had thought the boys were a bad influence on you." She adds.

"I was just as bad an influence on them," Hermione admits, memories of everything she had done in her school career flashing across the forefront of her mind.

Filius chuckles, a little tipsy from the whiskey, "What was the worst thing you did, Hermione?" He asks.

"Which year?" Hermione asks in return.

Minerva sighs once more, disappointedly rubbing her forehead.

"First year," Filius answers.

Hermione thinks back ten years, struggling to choose the worst thing she had done until she remembers. "I set fire to Professor Snape's cloak during a Quidditch match; when Harry's broom was jinxed." She explains.

"No way," Pansy laughs.

Draco hands her a cup of tea, sitting back down on the arm of her armchair with his own.

"I thought it would have been the troll incident," Minerva admits.

"Oh, I actually lied that night. Ron had said something mean about me, so I had spent most of that afternoon crying in the bathroom. I had no idea there was a troll in the dungeons. The boys most definitely saved my life that night." Hermione explains.

"Why lie?" Filius asks.

"I was embarrassed."

"Second year," Aurora asks, enjoying finding out secrets about her former students.

"I spent a few months brewing polyjuice potion in the second-floor bathroom so we could sneak into the Slytherin common room and interrogate Draco to find out if he was the Heir of Slytherin," Hermione admits.

"In your second year?" Horace clarifies, impressed. "How did you even get the recipe?" He asks.

"I asked Professor Lockhart for permission to enter the restricted section of the library," she smiles.

"Of course, he was useless," Bathsheda says.

"I don't think we need to hear anymore," Minerva announces.

"She was the one to create Dumbledore's Army in our fifth year," Neville quickly adds to the mix.

"Well, that wasn't so terrible," Filius says. "Most of us knew something was going on." He admits. "That woman was awful, wasn't she?" He scowls, standing. "I think I need to lie down for twenty minutes before the feast." He excuses himself.

"Despite all that, you two were bright students and fiercely loyal to your friends. I hope Scorpius learns that from you two and judging from the people you are now, you will raise him to be a courteous child." Minerva states.

"Thank you, Minerva," Draco accepts the compliment, even though he might not necessarily agree with the sentiment. Either way, he was going to raise his son to be everything he was raised not to be.

"The feast begins at half-past three, please ensure you arrive in the Great Hall promptly," Minerva announces before leaving.

As soon as the door closes behind their headmistress, Rolanda leans forwards and asks, "What else did you get up to as students?"

"I think that's enough secrets," Draco states, not wanting to get to close to unwanted topics of conversation.

"It is fifteen minutes until the feast," Bathsheda says. "I don't know why Minerva didn't just wait for all of us." She adds, standing with Rolanda and Aurora.

The three women leave, with Horace, Neville and Hagrid following not far behind. Hermione stands, cradling Scorpius in one arm as she tries to collect his baby bag until Draco tells her that he'll grab it. He takes their mugs over to the kitchen, turning around to find his wife, Pansy and Jonathan have left, leaving him with Darius.

Draco picks Scorpius' change bag over his shoulder nodding at Darius as he leaves.

"I still have friends in the Auror department," he states, watching Draco.

He stops, turning around curious as to where this was going. "What are you implying with that, Darius?"

"I know Harry Potter is up to something, Auror Platt has been keeping me in the loop. He found the location that your prophecy spoke of, yes?" He asks, standing up, returning his mug to the kitchen.

"Yes, they found some evidence and a Muggle witness." Draco answers.

"But the Muggle was obliviated, yes?"

"How did you know that?"

"I didn't," he smirks. "Potter reminds me of myself when I first started in the Auror department. I started asking questions when witnesses conveniently forgot information, evidence went missing, and criminals escaped," he looks pointedly at Draco. "Within a year, I was sent to MACUSA undercover. I was there five years before I was allowed to resign. I understand that Potter thinks he can change the department, but he can't. If anything, he's putting a target on his own back." He explains.

Draco is bewildered. "If you think Harry will stop because of that, you don't know him. He is annoyingly righteous. He won't stop at anything until the mole has been dealt with accordingly."

Darius stares at him completely nonplussed. "What do you mean by mole? A mole for who?"

"The Death Eaters, obviously," Draco hisses quietly. "What were you talking about if not a mole?"

"There were certain Aurors that would take bribes from criminals so their cases would be thrown out of court. I brought it up to the department heads, even some of the middle management, and they refused to acknowledge my case file. Do you have any names?" Darius asks.

"I'm not supposed to be talking about this, as far as Hermione is concerned, we're not getting involved because it's too dangerous now that we're parents." He hesitates. "I want the Death Eaters brought down, so I can raise my son without the fear that I grew up with. I've told Harry I will help him in any way I can." He sighs, not believing he's actually telling Darius all of this right now.

"I can help," Darius states seriously.

Draco runs his hand across his jaw, feeling his stress levels climb.

"I told you I have friends in the Auror department. I have friends in other departments too. I also have friends in MACUSA that may come in use." He explains.

"I'll speak to Harry, I'm sure he'll be glad to have as many allies on his side as possible. So far it's me, his father-in-law and his brother-in-law." Draco admits. "We're going to be late." He adds, turning to the door.

The two of them do end up arriving at the Great Hall late, while Minerva is in the middle of her Christmas speech. She doesn't acknowledge them, carrying on speaking about how the students should spend their elongated holidays both relaxing and studying.

Darius has the longest walk from the staff entrance to his seat at the opposite end of the professor's table between Hagrid and Aurora Sinistra. Draco's not as lucky though as when he sits down between Hermione and Pansy they both turn on him, asking where he had been.

"I was talking to Darius," He mutters quietly to the two of them.

"He's been so weird recently," Pansy explains, leaning across Draco so Hermione can hear too. "This is the first time in weeks he's actually joined us for a meal in the great hall, and only because Minerva made it mandatory."

"He's an ex-Auror, with everything that's been going on its understandable he's been distracted." Draco states.

"Everything?" Hermione asks, eyebrows raised.

"Yes, he has friends in the Ministry, especially the Auror department, who have been keeping him in the know." He answers.

"And you're going to tell Harry," she sighs.

"If it helps him, I'll pass on the information," he agrees.

Pansy rests her head on her fist, leaning on the table. "Why are you speaking awkwardly? I know all about Wales." She smiles, lifting her spare hand to cup her mouth. "And the mole," she whispers.

Draco eyes glance at Jonathan and Neville whispering to each other on the other side of Pansy. "How do you know about that?"

"Ginny told Molly, and Molly told me." She shrugs, clapping along with the rest of the hall as Minerva apparently finishes her speech.

Draco and Hermione copy, smiling out across the hall at their students until Minerva returns to her seat at the centre of the professor's table.

"Here," Pansy offers Draco the other end of her Christmas cracker while taking Jonathan's in her other hand. Draco takes it, offering Hermione his and they all pull together, along with the students, creating an orchestra of instruments as they explode with different noises.

They each place their hats on as the feast appears on the table in front of them, discarding the joke toys to the side.

"We only spoke to Harry this morning," Hermione points out, accusatively across at Pansy.

"I dropped the twins off this morning at seven o'clock; James and Teddy were already there." She frowns. "I don't know why you're trying to keep it a secret."

"We don't know where else there may be moles, and which of those moles are Death Eaters," Draco explains, making Hermione a plate as she takes a bottle out of Scorpius' bag to feed him.

Pansy stops, a spoonful of mashed potatoes hovering over her bowl. "You think the Auror mole is a Death Eater?" She asks in disbelief.

"Harry seems to think so, and I've been confident there was a mole in the department for months, and it makes so much more sense that they would be working with the Death Eaters," Draco replies.

"Awesome," Pansy sighs. "What are you doing about it?" She continues piling mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"We're leaving it to Harry. He's an Auror, he's got friends he thinks he can trust. Without Voldemort, the Death Eaters aren't as dangerous, even with this new Dark Lord, who we aren't sure actually exists. What is dangerous is us getting involved with going against a department of the Ministry, and the Auror Department at that. Kingsley is looking for something to use against us, I'd rather not hand it straight to him." Hermione explains.

"He really doesn't like you two, does he?" Pansy shrugs. "It's because you're a power couple." She mentions.

"We're a powerful couple?" Draco asks.

"Well, yes, but you're also a power couple. You both come from different backgrounds, but you're not so different. You both can make people do what you want, Draco by bribing, because, despite what you think, the pureblood community are still beneath you in wealth, status and power, and Hermione by asking, because, the Order and Dumbledore's army respect her." She coherently explains. "Minister Shacklebolt is both envious and terrified of that type of power. He never had our community on his side, and he's been slowly losing their side's respect since he became Minister." She ends her theory by placing a slice of turkey in her mouth with a smirk and a nod.

"She's making sense," Draco admits, turning to Hermione. "If he can keep us under control, he can keep everyone under control." He says.

"If I were you two, I wouldn't give a sh-"

"Pansy!" Hermione cuts in.

She rolls her eyes, "I wouldn't care about Shacklebolt, I'd go full force against him and the Death Eater moles in his administration." Pansy finishes.

"But, Scorpius," Hermione looks down at the little bundle in her arm, stretching his arms out with a yawn, ready for his afternoon nap.

"Nothing is going to happen to you, you're one-third of the golden trio, there would be riots if you were sent to Azkaban," Pansy tells her.

"Magnus said people are losing interest in us. It's not as if we're doing anything interesting with our lives, just working and raising a family." Hermione shrugs, turning to place Scorpius in a Moses basket behind her chair that House-elves had provided.

Pansy slams her hand on the table, "Are you serious?"

"Shh," Draco hisses, glancing around at the professors and a few students staring at them.

"Of course, he told you that, the Ministry is controlling what gets published, and the more attention given to the Golden Trio, the more power and fame they get. The Department of Journalism is editing and redacting all articles before publication. Magnus is just another clog in the wheel of the Ministry controlling us." Pansy explains.

"Where did you hear that?" Draco asks.

"Percy works in the Department of Journalism, he's the one doing the redacting. He hates it. He thinks they're testing his loyalty after last time." Pansy states.

"Oh, Percy," Hermione sighs, feeling guilty. "What's he even doing back in the Ministry?"

"All he tells us is that he has plans," she shakes her head, going back to her dinner.

"That does explain why you weren't mentioned in our article," Hermione remembers her promise to Ron.

Their friend groans, "Did he tell you to say that?"

"He did talk about you; it was really cute," Hermione tells her. "He didn't shut up about how he will always love you because you're the mother of his children, and how proud he was of you for pursuing teaching as a career." She explains.

Pansy scoffs, but her eyes are softer. "How embarrassing for him?" She smiles down at her dinner.

"He argued with Magnus over why he wasn't talking about you because you're one of the students' favourite professors." She adds.

"My hero," she rolls her eyes, but her smile still stands.

After dinner, Minerva takes to the podium again to announce the surprise that each professor would be receiving a Christmas present from the students. The prefects of each house had randomly picked four professors, and as a house, they had been allocated three galleons per professor to buy gifts. One at a time, students from each house climbed up to the professor's table, handing their professor a wrapped present.

A Hufflepuff prefect hands Hermione a book-shaped gift with a broad smile. "We weren't sure if you had one already, Professor, but if you do, you can keep it for next time," she explains.

Hermione unwraps the gift to reveal a light blue book with a picture of Scorpius cut from the Daily Prophet's article places on the front. Embroidered on the front in a midnight blue thread was his name, 'Scorpius Malfoy' and his date of birth, '7th September 2000'. She opens to the front page to find a contents page listing chapters for birth information, family tree, first pictures, first thoughts, dreams, names, developments, family pictures, and so much more going on for the next five years.

"It's a baby book," the Hufflepuff prefect announces. "They're not very common in our community, but most of us from muggle backgrounds have one and thought it was so cute. It's handmade, each chapter was crafted by a different person, their name is signed at the bottom of each page." She points at a name at the bottom of the family tree page, that reads 'Eleanor Branstone', the prefect's name.

"This is amazing, and so thoughtful. Thank you so much, Eleanor." Hermione is shocked by the sheer amount of care that went into making her Christmas present.

"I know it's not exactly a present for you, more like for Scorpius, but we thought maybe you would like it." Eleanor shrugs.

"I'm almost crying," Hermione admits. "I love it," she assures her.

"Oh, great, I'm glad you can use it." The prefect smiles, awkwardly bowing once before returning to the table and whispering to her friends. The majority of the Hufflepuff table eventually turn to Hermione, waving at their Transfiguration professor.

Hermione waves back, turning to face Draco to show him the baby book. She had been so lost in her own gift that she hadn't noticed a fifth year Ravenclaw stood in front of her husband. On the table, Draco was rummaging through a box full of colourful objects. Hermione leans forward for a better look. The Ravenclaw's had used their galleons to buy Draco numerous muggle stationery items.

"You were so difficult to buy for, Professor," Hugo Mattingly, the fifth year Ravenclaw states. "We're quite sure if it weren't for blood purity, you would have made a great Ravenclaw. Intelligence, wit, sharpness." Hugo lists. "From your lessons last year, we can tell you like to keep organised, and Muggles have so many cool stationery items for organisations." He peers over into the box. "We've got you highlighters, sticky notes, coloured pens, paperclips, a stapler and staples, and because you're definitely the type, a fountain pen. You put your ink inside and write with it, instead of dipping the nib into the ink." He explains.

Draco nods along, interested in these new items he's never used before, beside pens, which he had taken to using at home since they saved time when writing. "Thank you, these will definitely come in useful." He holds his hand out.

Hugo stares at it for a prolonged second before realising and taking his professor's hand, shaking it once before leaving.

"What did you get?" He turns to Hermione.

"Look at this," she grins, carefully flipping through the pages and explains its purpose.

"I'm surprised purebloods haven't appropriated these books for themselves." He admits, turning to the 'About the Father' section to find a snake weaving around the borders and through the letters of the title. "We'll have to commission them to make another one of our next children." He comments.

Hermione's eyes widen, "Draco, Scorpius is three months old, please don't scare me like that." She tells him.

He frowns, looking up at her. "I didn't mean anytime soon, but I thought it was a definite eventuality. We both wanted three children on our questionnaires." He reminds her.

"Yes, and we're both barely twenty years old. We have quite a few years ahead of us before we need to think about another child." She tells him.

"That's fine, it was just a suggestion, so all of our future children have the same type of book." He explains.

Hermione blows out a deep breath, relieved. "I'd like to be secure in my career before we decide to have another baby." She adds.

"That makes complete sense." Draco agrees. "I'm starting to miss teaching." He admits, looking back at his gifts. "Shall we say, at least five years?" He suggests.

Hermione smiles, "That seems like a reasonable amount of time." She holds her hand out, and they shake on it, making her laugh until Draco leans down to kiss her knuckles and she rolls her eyes lovingly.

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