M is for Mittens, Mother-In-Laws, and Martyrs.

"I'm not going to be a sacrificial lamb, Hermione. Merlin, go get one of your pansy friends to do it!" Draco glared at her, left eyebrow rising slightly, a trick on he had masted, the eyebrow daring her to answer.

"You think you'd remember that those so-called 'pansy' friends of mine saved your arse from Azkaban, if I recall rightly," Hermione told him, taking a seat at the table.

"And as I recall, dearest, I've paid my dues for their help. There was that whole incident with the lamb and the lamb's owner, and his daughter, if you care to remember. That was a lot worse than what Azkaban ever could have been," Draco said, tapping his foot nervously. "Anyway, I'm not going to be a martyr for their causes. No way are you going to get me up on that stage, talking about how good Potter is, with all those lights shining into my face, the cameras trying to take close ups of my face."

Hermione reached over to pat his arm. "It's okay Draco. No one but me will ever know how bad you look close up."

He scowled at her, tugging his arm out of her reach. "I'm not going to be a victim to your charms, Hermione. You can do whatever you want, but I'm not going to do it. Nope, never. Never in a million years."

Hermione grinned impishly. "Not even if I threaten to sleep on the couch tonight, and for every night until you do the press report?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

Draco sighed. "I'll do it," he muttered, so low she could barely hear.

"What was that?"

"I'll do it, you she-devil!"

Hermione clapped her hands together happily, rushing out the kitchen to tell bloody Potter the good news.

That how Draco Malfoy found himself chattering nervously away about Potter to the press, sweat pouring out of his forehead, falling drip by drip onto the floor.

Damn his wife and her charms.

A few years ago, when Draco had been forced to meet Hermione's parents, he had felt the same nerves he did now, talking about Potter. Hermione had met his mother a month prior and the two of them had gotten on as thick as thieves, barely remembering that he was in the room. He couldn't believe his eyes when his mother embraced Hermione when they had stood to go. Merlin, she didn't even treat him, her only child, like that!

Still, with Hermione grasping his hand tightly, it made him feel a bit better. Just the tiniest little bit.

Her mother opened the door, squealing happily as she embraced her daughter. Hermione's father ushered Draco into the medium-sized house, and Hermione shot him a smile, still encased in her mother's grasp, shooing him away.

He had been questioned, roughly, for the next half an hour, by Hermione's parents, while the witch in question, the witch he was risking everything and anything for, played happily with her baby cousin in the next room. They could hear the occasional giggle, but aside from that, Draco had no support offered from Hermione during the inspection. Satisfied, they let him go at 11:00, a relieved Draco collapsing in the living room, watching happily as Hermione clapped Tiara's chubby hands together.

They had left the Granger's house at 3:00, both completely stuffed from the spread. Hermione had latched onto Draco's offered arm, giggling with happiness, before they departed to the apartment.

Draco had sworn, from that day on, that mother-in-laws were the evilest thing God ever created.

Hermione tickled his nose with a blue mitten, giggling as he grabbed her by the waist and twirled her around. Scorpius looked up at them in his crib, hands grasping it so tightly Draco was surprised it didn't break off. His brown eyes were hidden underneath his blond curls, and he watched his parents coo their way over to his baby sister, her hands reaching out to her mother.

He wailed at this, falling back into the crib, his nappy softening his fall. Hermione nudged Draco sharply in the ribs with her elbow. "Go attend to your son," she muttered.

Draco obliged, rubbing his ribs. "My son?" he questioned. "You had some part in his creation, y'know."

Hermione smiled at him, their daughter in her arms. "Well, last night, when the baby monitor went off, you refused to get up, saying that Cassie here was my child, and not yours. They way I see it, you can have Scorpius, and I'll have Cassie."

"Fine with me," he answered, walking back over to her, Scorpius on his hip. The boy giggled happily as he tried to unthread the blue mitten, fingers working nimbly. "At least my child doesn't have to be changed ever ten minutes any more," he told his wife, watching as she changed Cassie's nappy, Hermione tapping her daughter on her button nose softly.

"Yeah, well at least my child is sure to be married off," she argued, patting Cassie's on the back now, cooing softly at her.

"And Scor won't?" he asked, tickling his son. Scorpius giggled, squirming out of his grasp. Draco smiled, patting him on the head. "Scorpius is a charming boy, and I'm sure he'll have the girls fighting over him, just like his dad."

Hermione laughed, taking a seat, Cassie in her arms. "Fighting over you? Merlin, no, Draco! As I remember, you had Pansy, and that was it."

He grumbled scowling. "They all wanted me, they just didn't say it."

"Even the boys?" she teased.

Draco glared at her. "I'm a very desirable man, y'know. You're lucky I married you! I could have had the pick of the bunch, but I choose you."

"Aww," she whispered, walking over the Draco, discussion forgotten, for the moment. She lowered down onto the arm of the chair so he could see. Cassie had fallen asleep; her hands curled up into two small fists, and placed under her chin.

"Just like her dad," he told Hermione proudly, settling Scorpius onto his lap so the boy could look. Scorpius touched Cassie's soft cheek with a finger, smiling slightly.

"I think she looks more like your mum," she said, whispering softly. "She's got Narcissa's eyes, and the blonde curls have to come from her."

"I could have curls," he argued, glancing up at her. How had he landed this witch? Hermione had two children, one of them only two months old, and she still looked like a twenty-two year old. Still watching, he saw her bit her lip, and shake her head softly.

"Sorry, Draco, but I can't imagine that," she said.

Scorpius placed the blue mitten into Cassie's blanket, and Hermione pushed it in for him, careful not to disturbing her slumbering daughter.

"Come on," Draco said, picking up his son. "Let's go into the kitchen, eh? I think mummy's got some cookies in there for you."

Hermione glanced up, capturing Draco's eyes. "Not too many, okay? I remember the last time I baked. I came in, and half of the batch were gone. Plus, it'll ruin his dinner."

"Whatever you say boss," Draco replied, giving her a salute.

Hermione smiled, before standing up, plodding over to Cassie's basinet. She placed her daughter carefully inside, covering her with another blanket, just in case. Softly, slowly, she traced a finger down her cheek, smiling softly.

"Good night my angel."

Cassie stands for Cassopeia. This was written for the Alphabet Challenge on HPFFC. Review?