AN: I couldn't resist writing a series of snippets, which I'll just call the epilogue. It might be rough as far as errors go, but no one's perfect. I tried.

As always...enjoy. *kisses*

Of Epilogues

The screeching within the walls of the yellow cottage was akin to nothing he'd ever heard before, and it set his teeth on edge. He scowled, his upper lip twitching only due to his current company. He'd informed Hermione, numerous times, he did not wish to be in the same room with Potter and Weasel, but she'd waved her hand and ignored him.

Draco always did hate when Hermione ignored him. It had become something of a pastime and there really was nothing he could do about it. Ordinarily, he'd simply whisk her to their home and shag her until she couldn't walk, but such options were off the table when she was so close to birthing their son.

"I don't envy you mate. If Ginny can put up such a fuss, imagine what Pansy is going to sound like when she labours." Harry Potter snickered into his pint of bitters, enjoying the abject horror on Ron's face.

"I've already told you, Harry." Ron hissed quietly, as he quickly glanced over his shoulder to ensure his wife was not sneaking up on him. "I'm not ready to be a father."

"Hmmm, too late for that Weasley." Draco enjoyed having the upper hand. His Veela senses had not waned a single iota, and his knowledge of impending children was his favourite needling power.

"You're lying again. You can't fool me more than once and…"

"Oh come now, you know that's not true at all. Potter, tell him how easy it is." Draco raised his glass of firewhiskey, and wiggled his pale eyebrows.

"He's not wrong, Ron. Though, I did overhear Pansy and Luna…"

"I don't want to speak to either of you. I'm going to find my wife. We're not friends anymore." Ron Weasley angrily stomped from the McLaggen's sitting room, slamming doors along the way.

"Pity." Draco sniffed, not feeling it was a pity at all. In fact, he was quite relieved to be free of the man. "Did you hear of Astoria? Poor girl."

Draco lounged casually on a flower print armchair. While the screeching had lessened some, he was still capable of hearing the growled curses and threats. He hoped Hermione was calmer when it was her time.

"Yeah, I know. She'll probably spend the rest of her days on the Janus Thickey Ward. I wish I could have prosecuted her parents, that would have been something." Harry sighed and scratched his head, his eyes drawn to his waddling wife as she carefully balanced tea service in the kitchen.

"I had a devil of a time with Hermione. She was absolutely adamant we adopt the child in question. Could you imagine, Potter? I might be fond of little Nova, but Rowle's child under my roof? I'd rather Avada myself." Draco growled, his fingertips elongating as he pricked the fabric with his talons.

"Calm down, Malfoy. Eventually, Hermione saw reason. You've got to learn to let her think these things out on her own. You can't force her into decisions otherwise, she'll just resent you. You'd think you'd know that by now." Harry eyed the obsidian eyes and decided it was in his best interest to put a bit of space between them. "Besides, I spoke with Raven and Anderson. It took a bit, but they'll take the child when it's time. I hope it's a girl."

"It is."

"You ruin all the surprises, Malfoy." Harry wrenched his round spectacles off his face and angrily wiped them on his blue cotton shirt.

"I told you McLaggen would go late. I told you Lovegood, oh forgive me, Mrs. Potter would go early, that's not ruining a surprise, Potter. Ruining a surprise would be to tell you of the Quidditch tickets Hermione purchased for your birthday." Draco's grey eyes were lit with amusement as the information was finally absorbed by the distracted, dark haired wizard.

"I don't like you, Malfoy." Harry crossed his arms angrily, though in reality, he was quite pleased.

"As much as things change, they remain the same. Quidditch on Sunday?" Draco downed his drink, as the squall of a new child entering the world filled the cottage.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm going to be sick." Lucius Malfoy covered his lips in a most dramatic fashion, yet refused to vacate his wife's sitting room. "Why must history repeat itself in my home? Are Potters so poor they must practice their sexual deviance wherever they lay their heads?"

Luna Lovegood Potter smiled serenely, completely disregarding her husband's bright red face, hiding within her dirty blonde strands. She waved over her shoulder, slowly rocking her hips. Luna wasn't the sort of witch to become rattled by anything, not even the glower of Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, there's nothing wrong with deliciously long sessions of Tantric sex. If you had bothered to read the book I bought you last Yule, you would know this. Perhaps, I should broach the subject with Cissa. I'm sure it is something she would enjoy."

"Potter, leave no trace of your lascivious behaviours, and I'll not mention your activities to my volatile, Veela wife." Lucius sneered, backing slowly out of the sitting room, closing the doors tightly.

"They're doing it again, aren't they, Father?" Draco snuck up on his father, snorting when the older wizard leapt into the air with fright.

"Yes. Your wife's friends are disgusting. Never mention this to your mother, otherwise I'll never breathe another breath of fresh air. I simply can't keep up with the woman." Lucius shuddered and scurried away as quickly as his feet would take him.

"That…was completely unnecessary." Draco faux gagged, pausing to scoop the running platinum blond toddler into his arms. "You know better than to run in the Manor."

"James be mean. Hugo be dupit." Scorpius Malfoy had no issue expressing his three-year-old fury. He crossed his arms angrily as his white blond hair fell into his eyes.

"Hugo is not stupid." Draco spoke with difficulty. It came naturally to mock Weasley and his choice of his name for his son. "He is quite a bit younger than the rest of you. He's a baby."

"He smell yucky."

"Well, then you tell his mother he crapped his pants, alright? Be nice or I shan't take you out on the broom later." Draco ruffled his son's hair, and set him on his feet with a sigh.

"Really Draco? Crapped his pants? You couldn't have turned a nicer phrase to our son?" Hermione shook her head with faux disappointment, and hugged her husband.

She tried not to laugh, but in the end, it was impossible. She giggled against his chest, listening to the sounds of children laughing, arguing, and running through the Manor. She was filled with excitement, and knew Draco could sense it.

As hard as she had tried over the past few years, it was absolutely impossible to conceal anything from her Veela husband. It used to drive her quite mad, but Hermione had grown used to it. There were moments however, when she begged him to play along, and he did so seamlessly.

"It's better than what I wanted to say. Potter and Lovegood are shagging in my mother's sitting room."

"Thank…you…for that." Hermione rolled her eyes, pretending she didn't notice his hand slipping into her blouse to toy with her breast. "We are not following in their footsteps."

"Of course not, we have a perfectly acceptable wing, with a bed. Ara is napping, Scorpius is terrorizing Potters and Weasleys, we've time." Draco licked her neck and Hermione knew she would not refuse him. It was inevitable.

Draco had unbuttoned her blouse in the shadows of the corridor, nudging her along with urgency. He paused, and pressed her against the blue flowered wallpaper in order to pay homage to her heavy breasts. Hermione gasped when his teeth latched onto her throbbing peak, her head hitting the wall.

"Oh for the love of…d'ya really hafta do that…here? I don't need to see this. I don't want to see this." Harry stumbled from the sitting room with his slacks barely drawn over his hips, and his hair askew.

"Go away, Potter or I'll tell my mother about her sitting room." Draco mumbled around Hermione's breasts, inching her skirt up her thighs.

"Uhm yeah alright. Don't like you! Quidditch on Sunday! Bye!" Harry shouted over his shoulder as he practically ran toward the Floo, dragging a half-dressed Luna behind him.

Ronald Weasley mopped the sweat from his brow, nervously tending his wife. Pansy held his hand with such strength, he was certain she had crushed a few bones. When he attempted to suggest she might have done so, Pansy had shouted herself purple, declaring he didn't need his bloody hand.

Ron swore they would never have another child. It wasn't because he didn't love children, he did. It wasn't because he didn't love his wife, he did, desperately in fact. However, the idea of having to listen to her screech, and refuse Pain Potions as their children made their way into the world would have cured Merlin of further procreation.

"There she is…" The Healer breathed with relief. The poor witch was nearly deaf, and vowed to Silence Pansy Weasley if she was ever forced to attend another birth.

Pansy sniffled, stretching her arms out to receive her daughter. She inspected the newborn's fingers, and toes with tears of happiness in her eyes. She kissed the girl's head, surprised to see wisps of red hair.

"She's a ginger…" Pansy whispered.

"Let's call her Rose." Ron carefully placed his arm around his wife's shoulders, flexing his fingers, while staring down at the newest edition to their family.

Pansy nodded as the angry conversations grew to a crescendo in their great room.

"You owe me ten galleons, Potter." Draco bounced his knee, entertaining young Ara while Scorpius chased Wilhelmina, Paige, and Hugo.

"James! Stop tripping up Hugo! Willa, don't make faces at me! Where the hell is Ginny? Why is Paige here?" Harry Potter was frazzled as he was the only one chasing the children.

"Wilhelmina is as bad a name as Albus Severus. At least Luna managed to talk you out of it. I don't know why Ginny agreed to McLaggen's request. Absolutely hideous. Megan and Theo have gone to St. Mungo's, something about seeing a Healer, hence why Paige is here. Pansy agreed to watch the girl, but that went tit's up when little Rose decided to make an appearance, which brings us back to you owing me ten galleons." Draco flicked his wand with a touch of superiority, and the children stilled.

"That's not remotely fair. You knew they were having a girl." Harry pouted unpleasantly. No matter how many years had passed, he still detested losing the copious number of bets, to Malfoy.

"We didn't bet on the sex of the child, Potter. We bet on the name." Draco paced before the still children, blinking slowly. He wished them to receive the full effect of his pitch black eyes.

The small group of rowdy children quivered. They swallowed as one and ever so slowly edged passed the towering wizard with the scary eyes. They pushed open the backdoor and sat in the grasses, keeping a wary eye on each other.

"Her name is Rose!" Ron ran into the great room with a wide smile, and a pink bundle in his arms.

"I don't like you, Malfoy."

"Aw Potter, why must you wound me so?" Draco dramatically covered his heart, chuckling in victory.

"You can play Quidditch by yourself, you bastard."

Hermione Malfoy fretted over her eldest son until even her husband was rolling his eyes in exasperation. She'd gone over the contents of his trunk so many times, Draco was certain every first year knew what Scorpius Malfoy was lugging to Hogwarts. Instead of forcing his wife to face reality, he stepped away, silently wishing his first-born son luck.

Upon the arrival of Raven and Anderson Foster, Scorpius managed to free himself from his mother, hastily wiping his cheek. He scowled, much like his father once had, as he eyed the numerous excited children boarding The Hogwarts Express. His grey eyes were curiously drawn to a petite blonde witch, exuberantly hugging his mother, and he felt uncomfortable. Scorpius looked to his father, but only rolled his eyes as he saw Harry Potter approach.

"Oh, it's you, Potter." Draco Malfoy sneered at the smaller, scar-headed wizard with apathy more than disdain.

"I still don't like you, Malfoy." Harry Potter waved to Hermione, ignoring the pale blond wizard at his side.

"Good to know some things remain the same, even after all these years." Draco sniffed, thrusting his aristocratic nose into the air, and Harry laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. Quidditch on Sunday?"

"As always."

Scorpius waited until his honorary Uncle moved along in the bustling crowd before approaching his father. He already knew asking his mother was out of the question. She had often shied away from discussing his Veela heritage, directing to ridiculously large tomes of antiquated information.

"Dad?" Scorpius kept a careful eye on his younger sister, instantly disliking her closeness with James Albus Potter.

"Have you seen where Lynx and Lyra have run off too? I swear they were just here. You're mother is going to murder me." Draco distractedly searched for crowd for his youngest children, sighing in relief as he spied them near Ginny and Cormac McLaggen.

"Dad…" Scorpius gripped his father's hand, and instantly he had his father's attention.

Draco could feel the magic. He could feel the blood coursing through his son's veins. He could hear the rapid thud of his son's heart, and knew the path Scorpius Malfoy would walk down.

"Bollocks. Your mother isn't going to like this you realise. She clung to the idea it had skipped over you because of Louis Weasley. He hasn't shown any signs at all, but I warned her." Draco drew his son beside a pillar, just beyond the scope of his wife's vision.

"Who is she?" Scorpius pointed to the petite blonde witch clinging to a lovely brunette he assumed to be her mother.

"Ah yes, well, interestingly enough, that little witch was almost your sister." Draco smirked while Scorpius balked at the idea, his breaths short and somewhat raspy. "Her name is Nova…"

"That's the Nova mum was always going on about? I didn't know…I mean she…I suppose I should have visited when mum offered." Scorpius tilted his head, studying her features carefully from afar.

"Listen son. You can't just rush over there. You're not the proper age for that, not quite yet. I'm going to owl an old friend. Her name is Apolline Delacour, and she was quite instrumental in aiding me win over your mum. Let me give you a small bit of advice." It was obvious Scorpius was enamoured with the girl, and barely listening to his father with half an ear, but Draco pressed on, "Befriend her. It will make your life so much easier. Don't make the same mistakes I made when I was a child."

"I want her."

Hermione Malfoy closed her eyes, hoping she had heard incorrectly, but she hadn't. She observed her husband sigh and suggest he consider his options, considering he was only eleven, but Scorpius was just as stubborn as his parents. She sighed, knowing such things were completely out of her hands.

"Scorpius, Willa was looking for you. Why don't you bring the twins over after you've said your goodbyes. I'd like a word with your father." Hermione brushed the silky strands of blond hair off her son's forehead, and resisted the urge to kiss him in public.

"Hermione…" Draco was still addicted to her, even after all these years.

He unconsciously sniffed her hair, wrapping his arms around her tight. It had been a number of years since he had unintentionally Demonstrated, and for that she was thankful. She could feel his anxiety as easily as she could feel her own.

"I know. I should have listened to you. I thought he had a chance to escape…"

"Do you regret this?" Draco's hurt was almost palpable, which only caused her to ache.

"No, of course not. I couldn't, even if I wanted too. I love you. We have a good life, Draco. We've four wonderful children, and our lives are filled with family, friends, and their children. It's more than I ever thought I'd have, and I have it with you." Hermione breathed in the woodsy scent of her husband's crisp shirt with a strangled sigh. "I suppose I wished Scorpius to escape the painful bits."

Draco nodded, watching Ara giggle with James. Lynx and Lyra, his twins, so different, yet so very much the same, were poking Scorpius, as he ignored them. Draco's eyes fluttered over the crowd, picking out their friends.

He spied Sirius and Lily Potter dancing circles around their mother, Luna. He snorted upon seeing Ginny and Cormac arguing while their children, Wilhelmina and Tiberius rolled their eyes. Theo and Megan were teary eyed as they set Paige on the train, keeping a firm hand on their son, Newt.

"Aye, I wished for that as well. Think of it this way, love, Nova will be a Malfoy after all."

Lyra Malfoy snatched the parchment from her brother's fingers, running through the house with excitement. Her golden curls bounced as she thumped up the staircase, her grey eyes sparkling with mischief. Lynx shouted, instantly chasing her, his deep brown eyes filled with irritation.

"Mummy! Uncle Blaise sent an owl!"

"Lyra, why are you shouting? Your sister kept me up most of the night. I'm entirely too old for this. Your Uncle Blaise sends many an owl, why is this one different?" Hermione groaned from the confines of her four-poster bed, cursing Draco, life, and her children all in one breath.

"He married an American! And!" Lyra bounced on her toes while scrunching her nose, the perfect balance of both her parents, "He's coming home! Oh yeah, Ara got Sorted. Slytherin." Lyra dropped the parchment onto her parent's bed and scooped up her baby sister.

"Ugh, you could have led with that, Lyra. You best take Delphi out of here before I lose my mind. I'm too tired to think. Go find your father, I'm sure he'll be bloody thrilled."

Lynx sauntered into his parent's bedroom, looking as sullen as ever, and sighed dramatically. Hermione was fairly certain her youngest son would follow in the footsteps of his older siblings, but she refused to bet on it. He favoured Draco more than his sister, but his eyes were all her.

"Dad already knows. He's arguing with Uncle Harry in the garden."

"Why do they do that? It's so stupid. They claim they hate each other, but then every Sunday they're in the garden or at the Burrow playing Quidditch. Honestly, I don't understand them a bit." Lyra snuggled her baby sister, adoring her honey blonde hair and large brown eyes.

"They don't even use their proper names. Oh mum, Scorpius says he's coming home come Yule. Apparently, Apolline has deemed him fit, or something. I don't know, I wasn't listening." Lynx shrugged and headed off to his bedchamber before his mother set him to task. He planned on enjoying his last year of freedom before he was off to Hogwarts.

"Lyra, why don't you take your sister and go ask your father these delightful questions. I can't keep my eyes open any longer. Love you." Hermione blinked and within seconds, her lips parted and her breaths deepened.

"You've really got to learn how to sleep." Lyra bounced the baby, cradling her carefully as she made her way down the staircase.

It was an overcast day, with a light chill in the air, but it was beautiful just the same. She laughed, spying another owl overhead, and knew her mother wouldn't get her much needed rest. She wanted over to her father, shaking her head.

"Give me my galleons, Potter!"

"No! I won't! You cheated!" Harry resorted to physical violence, and gave Draco Malfoy quite a shove.

"You're just angry I won yet again. I told you Sirius was bound for Slytherin. With a name like Sirius Fred, how could he not? Poor boy never had a chance." Draco stumbled, but he didn't fall, his reflexes as spry as his youth.

"Dad? Why do you and Uncle Harry row so often?" Lyra lounged on a lawn chair, laying her sister on her chest, ever so gently.

"We're not…having a row. We simply…disagree. Where is your mother?" Draco frowned, watching Delphi blink her long blonde lashes.

"She's exhausted and you'd know that if you weren't out here, arguing like a child." Lyra arched an eyebrow at her father, and he felt properly schooled.

"She sounds just like Hermione." Harry Potter faux shuddered, chuckling lightly. "Lyra, your father and I are…friends who detest each other. We make wagers, we argue, we have a drink, and we play Quidditch. It's what men do."

"Men are stupid." Lyra declared. Without another word, she rose from the chaise and flounced into the house.

Draco fervently hoped his daughter always thought men were stupid, and stayed far away from them upon entering Hogwarts. Ara had already expressed a budding interest in James Potter, and Draco swore he'd send her to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic before his daughter became a fucking Potter.

"We're not friends. I don't even like you." Draco huffed angrily, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

"We are too friends, Malfoy." Harry brushed the remnants of dirt from his Muggle jeans, shaking his head at the stubbornness of his best friend's husband.

"Would you care to make a wager, Potter?"

"No. I wouldn't. You bloody cheat. Never mind. I take it back, we're not friends. I don't even like you. I'm not playing with you anymore." Harry turned on his heel, and stomped through the grasses.

"Liar. Quidditch on Sunday!" Draco called after the angry wizard, just before stepping into his house. He paused, waiting for Harry to callback, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Always!"