AN: Hello! This work is being published in another site. Though I've started uploading a couple of weeks ago over there, I would upload in every week until this catches up with the version over there.

Before you read, I want to inform you that the main pairing is Harry and Draco; they're happily married at the start of the story, before something comes up. This story proceeds slowly plot-wise and has lots of fluff in the beginning. There are also lots of original characters, as you'll soon find out, but that's how the plot goes.

I also have no beta, so please excuse if there are errors I've missed. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I do in writing and conceptualizing it!

CHAPTER ONE: So Warm

Harry Potter's life is not perfect, but he is happy. This is what he is thinking as he lies on his bed during the early hours of a Sunday morning with his husband sleeping peacefully in his arms. Draco's head rests on his broad chest, an arm wrapped around his stomach. Harry withholds a chuckle. Draco has always been a snuggle-bug, no matter how much he denies it.

He runs his fingers again and again through his husband's platinum blond hair; the strands are soft and silky, what with the specially brewed potions he washes it with. Draco always makes sure that everyone in their family uses them, horrified as he is that all their sons inherited the unruliness of Harry's hair. Of course, this does not decrease the stubbornness of the boys' hair, but keeps them soft and healthy. Draco's mothering instincts, fortunately, is satisfied with that.

He sighs and snuggles closer to Harry, tightening his embrace. "No, Percy, sweetheart, that is enough candy for tonight," he mumbles and Harry can't keep his chuckles quiet anymore. A fuzzy, comfortable warmth spreads inside his chest at the thought that Draco still dreams about looking after the children. If someone have told him at Hogwarts that Draco will be a doting and caring Papa, Harry would have sent that person to St. Mungo's.

But Draco is a doting and caring papa to Jamie, Score, Al, and Percy. Harry has always known that Draco is capable of loving their children more than the Slytherin thinks he can, even when they were still dating. He has been surprised, however, when Draco indeed insisted that he is able to carry all the children. The pregnancies were not easy, him being a man, but they all came through. Harry never thought it still possible, but he fell deeper in love with Draco, excited, rosy-cheeked, and expecting.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry does not notice when the source of the warmth in his chest opens his silvery eyes and looks up at him. Pale fingers reach up to touch his cheek, summoning him out of his reveries. "Harry, love, what are you thinking?"

"Nothing, love," Harry says softly, looking down and kissing Draco's forehead. The latter closes his eyes at the touch. "Good morning."

"Mmm. Morning." Draco yawns, snuggling further into the crook of Harry's arm. "What time is it?"

Wandlessly, Harry casts a Tempus charm. Glowing numbers hover in the air. "It's half-past six—"

"There's still enough time to lie-in," mumbles Draco, burying his face in the crook of his husband's neck. He is practically lying on top of him.

Harry chuckles; at forty-two, Draco still acts soft, adorable, and needy; not that Harry minds. He and the boys are the only ones who are privileged to witness it anyway. It is, as Jamie jokes, the family secret.

"I have to prepare breakfast, love," Harry says, rubbing Draco's back. "The boys will be up early today. You do know how excited they are that Jamie is going home from Tokyo today."

Draco lets out what sounds like faint whine and tightens his arms around Harry's neck.

The latter chuckles and pries Draco gently off of him. Harry gives him feathery kisses down the side of his neck while running a finger up and down his spine. Draco shivers. "I know that you're excited to see Jamie, too, love."

He kisses Draco languidly and the latter sighs against his lips. They break away after a few minutes; Draco rests the side of his face on Harry's shoulder, humming contentedly. He strokes his husband's strong, lean-muscled arms. "Then you have to make it up to me tonight, Harry. Okay?"

"It will be my greatest pleasure, love," Harry murmurs seductively, against Draco's hair.

"Such an absolute tease, you," giggles Draco, pushing away from his husband. He sits up and runs his fingers through sleek but sleep-mussed platinum blonde hair. All the curtains on the floor to ceiling windows are drawn, making their large room dim. Despite this, Draco can see that the sun is barely up yet, the season being winter.

He bends over the bed to look for the night gown that Harry rid him of when he came home from a mission in Paris last night. Draco blushes at the memory as he rummages through the clothes strewn carelessly on the floor. Twenty years of marriage have not diminished the effect that Harry has on him.

He finds his white, silk night gown and puts it on. He is aware of Harry's eyes on him; his cheeks warm up a little more. He glares at his husband, lying on his back on their numerous pillows and displaying his Head Auror glory. The duvet covers him up to the waist and Draco knows that Harry has not put on any clothes yet. He looks away, stands up and walks into their wardrobe.

"You're so adorable whenever you're acting shy, love," Harry laughs behind him.

Draco finds pajama bottoms from one of Harry's drawers, and throws it to his husband as he walks back to the bed. "Shut up."

Harry smirks and stands up. He stretches and winks at Draco when he sees him watching. Draco blushes but does not look away this time as his husband puts on the pajamas. Being an Auror has done Harry so much good. He has aged into a broad-shouldered and lightly muscled man; training and fieldwork has kept him trim and fit. His hair is still as messy at it has been at Hogwarts; his bright, green eyes are now framed with the more modern, rectangular glasses—at Draco's insistence. Even at forty-two, Harry James Malfoy-Potter is one of the hottest, sexiest, and most gorgeous men in the world (a recognized fact, now that Harry also works for the Confederation of States of Magic). Draco does not mind this at all, except, maybe, for the fact that men and women vied for his husband's attention.

"Like what you see?" Harry teases, walking towards his slimmer and paler husband. He wraps his arms around Draco's waist and pulls him against him. "Don't worry, it's all yours, Mr. Malfoy-Potter."

Draco sighs and nuzzles Harry's jaw, feeling stubble scrape his skin. He wraps his arms around Harry's neck and says, "You're awfully cocky this morning, husband."

"And you're adorably very clingy, my dear," Harry laughs, smelling Draco's hair. It's still the same citrusy and vanilla scent that he loves. The warmth in his chest has not left yet. He can swear that, entwined together in the middle of their room, they are glowing. He waves his hands once more for a Tempus Charm. The numbers display that there is still a quarter till seven.

"Mmm, only for you, Mr. Harry Potter," Draco says. "Have I told you that I missed you? Damn those three-day transnational peacekeeping issues. The boys and I missed you in the first three days of their holiday vacation."

Harry tightens his arms around Draco, pulling him impossibly closer. He starts swaying the two of them slowly. "You seem to have told me that many times last night, but still—love, I'm sorry," Harry murmurs. He rests his forehead against Draco's, looking down to meet his silvery gray eyes. They are soft with a mixture of emotions: fondness, wonder, and a love that always takes Harry's breath away.

"Well, you've never outgrown your hero complex. We're your family; we understand that," Draco teases.

Harry laughs out loud. "I just hope that the boys have not inherited it, right?" he jokes, rubbing small circles on Draco's lower back. Draco's so beautiful, he thinks, looking down at his husband. Draco has remained slender, all elegant limbs and aristocratic posture, unlike Harry's more muscled build. His hair is still a sleek platinum blonde, though his face has become softer, losing its pointiness. His silvery eyes glowed with contentment and love, at least when he's looking at Harry and the boys. He's always been like this, just hiding it.

"Love, don't you think that it's a little too late to ask for that?" murmurs Draco mock seriously. He fights back a wide grin and another blush from tinting his cheeks, after realizing that Harry has been studying him once more with an intensity that sent butterflies in his stomach.

"Huh? What do you mean?" A crease appears between his husband's brows.

Draco laughs, swaying with Harry. "You do realize that no one after you left Hogwarts has been a truer heir of Godric Gryffindor than Scorpius? I swear that that boy is in line to vanquish the next Dark Lord."

Harry smirks. It has been amusing how Draco had accepted the fact that of the three sons they have sent to Hogwarts, only Albus has been sorted to Slytherin. James is a Ravenclaw, while Scorpius into Gryffindor. Percy, their four-year-old, will always tell anyone again and again the story of how the Sorting Hat has shouted ("No, Papa. It roared!") to the Great Hall "Gryffindor" within the millisecond it touched Score's head. Percy felt so proud of his older brother and Draco has tired of telling him off from repeating the story over and over.

Harry admits, though, that Scorpius reminds him of his younger self's determination, courage, boldness and foolhardiness. The boy is always overprotective of his twin and younger brother—of James, too, during certain circumstances.

He tells this to Draco, who smirks. "Yes, but without the foolishness, though. At least, I'm glad that our son still has some Slytherin in him. He got my intelligence, thank Merlin for that."

Harry glares at him and nips at the sensitive spot behind Draco's ear. The latter yelps at his attack and grips him hard around the shoulder. "Harry…"

"Hmm?" Harry hums, continuing his nipping and sucking of Draco's skin, giving it a love bite. Draco groans, and he unlatches his lips from the pale and delectable skin, smirking at the mark. "You forget, though, dear, that I was supposed to be a Slytherin, too."

"Ad-admit it, though. You- you do not think sometimes, you absolute Gryffindork," Draco mutters faintly, flushing. Harry starts licking at the new love bite. "Harry, love… Harry, please," he finished breathily.

Harry laughs lowly and kisses him full on the mouth. Draco groans, tightens his arms around his husband's neck, and kisses back hungrily. Harry urges his mouth open to deepen the kiss and Draco's knees buckle at what seems to be the kiss of the lifetime. He is thoroughly weakened by the sensations of Harry's lips, tongue, skin, and tight embrace upon him. Harry catches him.

"You meanie," Draco scolds weakly, holding on to Harry for dear life and breathing heavily. He shivers at the feel of Harry's stubble as the latter nuzzles the side of his face. "Harry."

All of the sudden, he is swept off his feet and carried bridal-style in Harry's arms. He yelps and tightens his hold around Harry. "Harry!"

Harry chuckles and briefly kisses him. Their faces are separated only by an inch; startlingly green eyes meet bright, molten silver. "I decided that I can't wait until tonight, love. You're too irresistible." He nips Draco's shoulder lightly and walks him back to their bed. Wandlessly and nonverbally, he sends a one-way Muffliato Charm and Locking Spell on their door.

Draco's eyes shine with mirth as he bounces on the soft, king-sized bed, after Harry has thrown him in. "Insatiable are you, Head Auror Potter?" he teases, but he moves further up into the bed and lies against the pillows. Slowly, never taking his eyes off Harry's, he lifts his arms backwards and grabs at the head board.

Harry's blood boils and his heart melts at the sensuous display. He feels the warmth in his chest spread all over his body. He crawls towards Draco like a predator. "Oh, you have no idea, my dear, lovely husband," he growls lowly.

Pink tints Draco's cheeks and he bares his throat to Harry. He basks in the warm, giddy, fluttery, and fuzzy feelings settling in his stomach.

Perseus Lilo Malfoy-Potter wakes up in his big, four-poster bed. His Daddy and Papa have given him his own room after his fourth birthday last July, saying that he is a big boy and can sleep apart his fathers. Percy does not mind that, but he will rather sleep between his Daddy and Papa every night; he can also keep one of them company if one of his fathers is away on a mission or business trip.

He looks for his white stuffed dragon, Hydra, and stuffed lion, Leo. They are his favorite toys, as Score and Al have told him that the two are his Daddy and Papa's first gifts to him. His twin brothers always tell him that whenever their fathers are both on trips, the two stuffed toys will guard him. They are from Daddy and Papa, after all.

He finds Leo at the foot of the bed, while Hydra has fallen on the floor last night. He nuzzles each of them, giving them a cheerful "Good morning!" Percy jumps off the bed, and places them side by side on the pillows. He starts to make up his bed; it is a Sunday, which means that Dobby, Winky and Kreacher have their rest day and can't clean. Besides, Percy always basks in Daddy and Papa's proud looks whenever he does things on his own.

When he's finished, he pats the stuffed toys on the head and says, "I'll just clean up then I'll check on Score and Al, okay?" He runs to his room's adjoining bathroom and opens the tap of the sink. Carefully, Percy rubs his small hands together under the running water, cups them together, and splashes the warm water on his face, just like how he knows Daddy does it.

Eyes still closed and spluttering, he reaches for a thick, fluffy, white towel and rubs the soft material on his face. After, hanging the towel on the rack, he gets a brush and tries to flatten his unruly, ash-blonde hair. "I've gotta look good—at leas' my hair—since Daddy an' Jamie will be home today!" he says to his reflection on the vanity, while running the silver brush over his thick curls.

"An' it does'n' matter if it's imperfect. Al says that I'm still cute and we all have messy hair anyway," he continues, grinning at himself. He jumps off the stool and runs back to the bed. Careful to not ruin the sheets he has arranged himself, he sits beside Leo and Hydra, petting them. "I'll go outside and check on Score and Al and see if we can come to Daddy and Papa's room to tussle! Behave, you two!"

With that, he jumps out of bed, and not bothering to put on his fluffy blue slippers, Percy scampers out of his room into the one next to his. He does not bother to knock; it's Al's anyway, he thinks, and opens the door slowly. He peeks.

All the curtains are drawn to reveal the wide open windows and the soft, winter morning light bathing the room. On the ledge near the largest, arched window in the room, Albus Severus Malfoy-Potter sat, writing on a journal with a large white quill. He is still in his black, silk pajamas, his raven-black hair in a state similar to Percy's.

"Al?" Percy says softly, rousing his brother from his writing. He hesitates from entering the room; he knows how precious Al's 'journal time' is. Papa always says not to disturb Al whenever he is writing on the journal Daddy gave to him.

Al sees the ash-blonde mop of his youngest brother by the door and smiles. Percy has always been an early riser, just like he and Score. He turns so his back is on the window, puts down his journal and opens his arms wide for Percy. Immediately, there is a pattering of small feet as the door shuts gently, and Al laughs loudly when his arms become filled with the blonde and blue Percy.

"Good morning, you little tyke," he says, mussing the boy's hair, who yelps and swats his hand away.

"Don't do that, Al!" Percy pouts, carefully picking through and uncertainly rearranging his bangs. He scowls up at Al. "I want to look pre'ntable when I see Daddy again!"

Amused, Al gathers Percy in his arms and sets him on his lap. He summons a fine-toothed comb with his wand and gently stops his brother's efforts in arranging his locks one at a time. "You'll always look presentable to Daddy but okay—let me help you, Lil."

"Have you woken long, Al?" Percy asks, while stilling himself as Al starts running the comb gently through his hair. He hums a little at the comforting feeling and leans back on his brother. Al always gives him gentle touches and is okay with cuddling and Percy likes that a lot.

"Not really. I've just been up. How about you?" Al replies, flattening his brother's mop with the palm of his hands. He smiles when Percy jumps off his lap and runs to the vanity mirror hanging on the wall to check on his reflection. Carefully, he touches his 'newly-styled' hair at all angles, his pale, chubby arms arranging his creased sapphire-blue pajamas. He grins at his reflection, rounded cheeks tinted with pink. He turns to Al.

"Do I look okay then, Al?" he asks shyly. He rarely asks for anyone's opinion on how he looks, unless it is really important to him.

"Hmm…" Al pretends to think, tapping his finger against his bottom lip. He stands up and walks around his little brother in pretend scrutiny. He holds in a chuckle when Percy starts to fidget and look uncertain. He looks up at him with wide eyes, a small pout on his lips.

"Oh, I don't know, Lil. Do you really look okay?" Al says, frowning slightly and not stopping his 'prancing.'

The blush in Percy's cheeks deepens and his pout becomes more pronounced. "AL!"

Al chuckles as the door of his room opens. A deep voice asks, "What's happening here, huh?"

Percy looks up and sees the other twin leaning on the door frame, frowning at the two of them. He instantly perks up and runs towards him. "Scorpius! Albus Sev'rus is a big, bad meanie!" he exclaims in his betrayed, little, babyish voice. Al giggles at Percy; he only uses his whole name when he tries to sound upset.

His twin, Scorpius, glares at him as he scoops up Percy in his arms and walks inside the room. Al just shows him a raised eyebrow and shrugs. He notices how tight Percy's arms are around Score's neck, and that he has buried his head in his shoulder, effectively mussing up his hair again. He holds back another chuckle.

"Why are you upset, Percy?" Score asks softly, rubbing his hand over the back of his brother. He has done this many times before. He has always stepped between 'the bad bullies and meanies' and his baby brother. If Al is the tutor, then he is the guard, whenever their fathers are not around. He is far from complaining, though.

Percy snuggles further into him, squirming to get closer. Then, without even looking up, he lifts up a chubby arm to point at Al, who tries but fails to keep himself from snorting. Score frowns at him, raises an eyebrow, and sits on the bed. "What did Al do that upset you, Percy?"

The little boy leans back and looks at Score, then, with big, watery eyes, and flushed, damp cheeks. His pout is more pronounced more than ever. He places his hands on his big brother's cheeks and sniffs, "Al is being a meanie."

Al shakes his head and explains, "I was just joking about how he looks. He wants to look good for Daddy, apparently. I was just pretending to scrutinize him and the little tyke balked under the pressure." He reaches out a hand to pet Percy's hair—the side messed up by his snuggling. "I'm sorry. Do you forgive me, Lil?"

He is given a very pronounced pout and offended sniff. "You won't do it again?"

"No, I won't."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"We won't fight, won't we? We won't try hurting each other ever and only playing pranks but those fun ones only? Because we're fam'ly and we look after one another?" Percy has said all this in a rush, repeating everything what his Daddy has always told them about what it means to be a family. His eyes look so big now and he does not look so upset.

Score and Al exchanged amused looks. "Of course. We love you, Lil," they say together and were rewarded with a watery smile. Percy kisses Score on the nose and reaches for Al to kiss him, too.

"Well, that surely is some morning drama," Score says, running his fingers through Percy's messy mop.

Al regards the clothes his twin is wearing. Black shorts and tight purple running jersey. Of course, Score has been out for his routine morning runs. Even at Hogwarts, he is known to do early morning laps around the Quidditch pitch and practice his flying stunts. Scorpius seems to have inherited their fathers' excessive (bordering on obsessive) love for Quidditch. Al has taken after Draco in his love for potions, but he does like flying, if not so much the sport.

"Fitness buff," Al teases him, who just rolls his eyes. "I don't think you'll lighten your regimen any sooner even if most of the Hogwarts female population has a crush on you."

Score glares at him. "Nerd face," he shoots back at his twin, but not without fondness. He and Al may not exactly look alike though they are twins, but they have a lot of similarities. Al has their Daddy's raven black hair but is slender like their Papa. Score, on the other hand, is platinum blonde, but built after Harry—slightly taller than Albus and lean-muscled. Their irises are colored silver to emerald, a case of central heterochromia iridum. Aunt Hermione says that it is a proof of their parents' strong magical bond.

Percy, who is still snuggled in his chest, speaks up. "Why'd you call Al, Nerd Face, Score? You like books, too." He leans back to look at his blonde brother's face. "Don't you?"

Al laughs loudly as he flops on his back on the bed, arms bent behind his head. "You're busted, you mean Gryffindor." He catches Percy's eyes. "Isn't he, Percy? He calls me Nerd Face, the meanie."

Their baby brother pouts at Score and points at Al behind him. "You should apologize, Score. Papa would say that will be the right thing to do."

Score smirks and whispers at Percy's ear, "I have a better idea how we can make it up to Al, Percy."

The little boy's eyes widen and he whispers back conspiringly, "How?"

Score grabs him by the sides and throws him onto the bed and then tackles Al, who has been watching their exchange suspiciously. "We give Al exercise, Percy! Come on!"

With a loud giggle, Percy jumps up and down Al's bed while giving the occasional nudge at Al's side as Score tickles him. His dark-haired twin shrieks and writhes away from him.

"SCORPIUS MALFOY-POTTER! You git!" Al shouts, taking advantage of the speed his slender figure lends to him and jumps up on the bed. He summons his wand from the window ledge and starts charming pillows to attack his Gryffindor attacker, to Percy's absolute amusement and delight.

"Get him! Get him! Get him, Al!"

"OW! You cheating, Slytherin! You're using MAGIC!" Scorpius whips out his own wand and sends a Stinging Hex at Al's toes, while casting a Shield Charm as protection from the pillows. The Stinging Hex surprises Al and sends him out of balance. He lands on the floor on his bum, which sends Percy to fits of laughter.

"Scorpius, you-!"

"Al! Al! Do the pillow thing again, please! And enlarge the bed! Enlarge the bed!" Percy squeals, jumping up and down the bed with each word.

Scorpius is still laughing at Al. "I think your Defense skills need practice, Mr. Potioneer."

"Shut up," Al growls, getting up on his feet and waving his wand to enlarge the bed for Percy. Scorpius chuckles and starts to conjure different colored streamers to hang all over Al's room. He also conjures big butterflies for Percy to chase and try to catch.

"You're getting really better at Transfiguration," Al comments, watching Percy jump up to catch a white butterfly as big as his face. He sits at the edge of the enlarged bed, forgetting their silly tryst a while ago. "You think you'll get an O in your Transfiguration OWL?"

Score sits at the opposite side of the bed, making miniature fireworks erupt from the tip of his wand. He smiles at Al. "Thanks. I hope I'll get lots of Os. You?"

Al transfigures a sheet of parchment into a bright red and green wizard's hat and levitates it to Percy's head. The boy squeals in delight when he saw himself on the mirror by the wall. "I hope so, too. I gave extra effort for Potions, though."

"Like I did, with Defense," Score says, nodding. He has always wanted to be an Auror, just like his Daddy. Al, on the other hand, wants to take a Masters in Potions. "We'll see our OWLs today, right?"

Al nods. "Our much-prolonged-already agony ends today," he mutters.

They do not notice that the door of Al's room has opened until the commotion on the mattress stops and Percy squeals, "DADDY!"

Albus and Scorpius turn their heads towards the door so fast they are in the danger of breaking their necks. The little blonde is laughing loudly as he runs across the widened bed and jumps from it—a little too high. Their father waves his hand just in time to levitate Percy, who is now somersaulting in the air, arms reaching towards Harry. His hat falls from his head.

"I missed you, Daddy! Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Carry me, Daddy!" he giggles. Harry just chuckles and lifts Percy a little higher, to the blonde's utter delight. He embraces Score and then Al, who have now approached him. Al, who is more comfortable in showing his affection around his family despite being a Slytherin, gives his Dad a peck on the cheek.

"Do stop that now, Dad," he says, watching Percy bobbing like a blonde and blue ball with grabby tentacles in midair. "Papa will be angry if you ruin Lil's stomach right before breakfast."

Percy, who seems to have heard Al, starts chanting, "Breakfast, breakfast! Waffles, waffles, waffles. I want waffles, Daddy. Waffles! Waffles—oh!" He finds himself being caught by Harry and he instantly snuggles to his Daddy's broad and strong chest and wraps his arms around his neck. "I missed you so much, Daddy," he whispers in Harry's ear, as if it is a big secret.

Harry laughs softly and rubs the tip of his nose against Percy's. "I missed you too, little one." His eyes roam over his face, memorizing the features he got from Draco and him. "Have you been good?" He starts walking out of the room and into the kitchen; Score and Al follow, still talking behind them.

"Daddy, did you know that vampires can drink animal blood? And live? I saw it on the telly!" Percy says excitedly, his bright green and silver eyes, wide and shining. "I don't un'stand why they would kill animals, Daddy. They're killing deer!" He pouts and stares cutely at Harry. "Isn't that bad, Daddy? Your Partonus is a deer, right, Daddy?"

Harry chuckles—really, he can't help but just laugh and bask in the warm feelings in his chest whenever he is at home. "It's a stag, baby, not that it makes any difference. And you call it a Pat-ro-nus, hmm? Not Partonus."

They reach their tiled kitchen. It is decorated with white and black tiles, with large cabinets above and below the counters, filled with muggle appliances and cooking utensils. A large, two-door refrigerator stands at a corner, near the stove and oven. Draco and Harry have made sure that their kitchen is always clean, fully-stocked, and fully-furnished early in their marriage, having found that both of them love to cook.

There is a large, rectangular table before the two counters, and Harry puts Percy down on one of the chairs charmed to have longer legs so the little boy can reach the table. Score and Al pull out and sit on their own chairs.

"Par—Patro—Parto—" Percy's eyebrows are scrunched up as he tries to pronounce the spell correctly. His older brothers watch him with unveiled fondness and amusement. "Partonus—Pat—Pat… Patro… Patronus." He grins and he bounces on his seat, hand in the air. "Patronus! Patronus, Daddy! Patronus!"

He giggles as Harry bends down and kisses him noisily on the cheek. "Very good, baby. One day, you'll learn how to cast a Patronus." Al and Score are clapping lightly.

"Yay!" Percy glows at his Daddy's praise. Daddy fondly rumples his hair, which always feels good. Daddy never does that to his other cousins—only on him, Score, Al, Jamie and Teddy. It feels nice to be special.

"Dad! You're ruining Percy's hair!" exclaims Al, in mock indignation. "Did you know that he is been up so early today, trying to make it neat for you?"

Scorpius coughs in a vain attempt to hide his laughter as Percy looks at the two of them indignantly. Harry just leans against the counter and watches, amused at his sons.

"It's okay if it's Daddy, Albus Sev'rus," he huffs, arms crossed and chest puffed out. "Or Papa, because I love them more than anyone else in the world." He turns to his Daddy and smiles at him adorably.

"Oh?" Al and Score say simultaneously, not noticing that both of them have one of their eyebrows raised.

"Yep. But I love you too, Score and Al. I love Albus Sev'rus and Scorpius Hyp'rion and James Sirius even if they're meanies sometimes. I love them second to Daddy and Papa, more than anyone else." He looks up at Harry, who starts summoning metal bowls, whips, and pans from the cabinets. "Daddy? That's allowed, right?"

Harry stops rummaging from the cabinets for flour to look at his youngest son, whose eyebrows are scrunched up adorably. He tries to ignore the impossibly warm and fond feeling that fills his chest; the expression is an exact replica of Draco's. "Of course that is allowed, Perce. Family must love each other even if they are meanies."

Percy smiles contentedly and hums the Little Einsteins song he heard yesterday while watching the telly.

"Dad! You're raising little Percy into a sappy Hufflepuff," Score whines, slumping on the table.

Al snorts as he stands up to help his father and gathers bacon and eggs from the fridge. "I have this suspicion that Dad wants his children as his own Hogwarts House collection."

"And all he needs is a Hufflepuff," Score agrees, looking at his father mischievously.

"Who needs a Hufflepuff?" Their Papa enters the kitchen, dressed in a crisp, white shirt and trousers. Draco gives each of the twins a kiss at the top of their heads after a duet of "Morning, Papa!" Percy, however, raises his arms, wanting to be lifted. Draco obliges.

"Morning, Papa," his youngest tells him. He kisses the tip of his father's nose, which scrunches cutely. He giggles; it's always fun when Papa does that.

"Morning, baby," he replies. Then, he looks at his twins. "Who needs a Hufflepuff?"

"Daddy," Score and Al sing the word a little too triumphantly. They will always take advantage of any opportunity to see their Papa go snarky on their Daddy, no matter how much of an act of endearment it was and no matter how sweet and cuddly they become after each time.

"Harry?" Draco frowns at his cooking husband, who is mixing the waffle batter in the pan.

"I don't need a Hufflepuff," Harry mumbles, sending glares at his sons as he starts preparing the waffles that Percy wanted. Al has started on frying eggs and bacon. Score is still smirking as he gets four big mugs from one of the cabinets. Harry is always tasked to prepare food every Sunday—for breakfast must be extra special especially if he's from an overseas mission—but his sons like to help him, anyway.

"Daddy wants me to be a Hufflepuff," Percy pipes in, holding the sides of his Papa's head to catch his attention. "Daddy teaches me things that will make me a Hufflepuff."

The twins snort in laughter and Harry groans. It's always so amusing how Percy will repeat everything their Fathers have said to him; not that they have not been like that when they have been kids. They still obey and trust in everything that Harry and Draco say to them. It's just fun to tease Harry and Percy about it from time to time.

"Hufflepuff?!" Draco repeats, sounding scandalized. He glares at Harry. They've been discussing about their sons' houses in the bedroom before… before well. Draco fights a blush and tries to look fierce. "Harry?"

"Dad's raising Lil to become a sappy Hufflepuff," whispers Al theatrically, earning him another snort from Score. The latter is beside him in the counter, slicing strawberries and bananas into smaller pieces for Percy. Their little blonde bundle of energy is addicted to having fruits in all his meals.

Draco huffs and takes a chair to sit in, Percy settled and being bounced on his lap. He takes his son's face in his hands and looks at him seriously. "Now, sweetheart, you are not going to be a Hufflepuff, okay? I can still handle Jamie's being a know-it-all Ravenclaw or your brother Score being a belligerent and bold Gryffindor—"

"Hey!" Harry and Score protest simultaneously over their tasks, while Al snorts.

Draco ignores them and continues, "—but not an overfriendly, sappy Hufflepuff. You are a Slytherin. A clever and intelligent Slytherin like Albus and Papa. Slytherins are protective of their families and we always succeed. You can be a Gryffindor like Daddy and Score, okay, or Ravenclaw like Jamie, but not a Hufflepuff. Understood?"

Harry, Al and Score set the plates piled with waffles, eggs, and bacon; mugs of hot chocolate; and bowls of strawberries, bananas, blueberries and chocolate sauce on the table; they see Percy nod gravely at his papa's mini lecture. Draco gives him a satisfied kiss at the forehead. "My good boy," he says and Percy beams at the compliment. He looks up at his Daddy, hoping for another compliment.

"But we'll love you whatever house you get sorted into, little buddy," Harry says, ignoring his twins' pointed whispers of "Hufflepuff." He ruffles the small blonde's hair, and then glares at Draco. "You're not playing fair at all, dear."

"It's not playing unfairly," Al quips, unfolding a napkin and arranging it on his lap. He grins at his Daddy. "Papa can say whatever he wants."

"Slytherins," Harry and Score mutter under their breaths. At the sight of the very identical looks on the Gryffindors, Al and Draco chuckle fondly. Harry and Score just join in. The former gives his husband a kiss on the cheek and then another one on his youngest son. He's also honestly taking advantage of the opportunity of smothering his son with kisses and hugs while they are welcome.

"Okay, dig in, my little, adorable and lovely Malfoy-Potters," he says, ignoring Score's and Al's protests, whines, and groans at being called little, adorable, and lovely. He meets Draco's gaze beside him and sees his contentment, love and fondness reflected in those silvery depths he loves. The warmth in his chest never leaves, even when Score and Al start teasing Percy's excessive love of chocolate sauce on his waffles, fruits, and eggs, and the little one starts chucking chocolate covered banana slices at his two brothers.

Yes, his life is not perfect but he is perfectly happy, he thinks, watching Draco try to pacify their sons and wince when Percy's chocolate-covered fingers stain his white shirt.

He hides a goofy grin by taking a sip from his steaming mug of hot chocolate.

AN: There you go! Percy's really adorable, no? .