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She complained that her belly would arrive 3 minutes before the rest of her whenever she entered a room. But it is so cute when she gets frustrated like that. Or when she gets stuck on the couch and can’t get up to “Pee… again.”
Today, she is on a tirade, though, and it isn’t so cute.
First thing this morning, even before I had a proper cuppa, I hear “DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY! WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME IS THIS?” as the Prophet is thrown in my face.
Being a man that appreciates all my anatomy in tact, I soothingly state, “It is the Prophet, love.” I can only think that my brilliant and beautiful wife has finally gone around the bend, but I don’t want her wrath to befall me.
“No, THIS!” she growls as she points to an advertisement that Mother and I placed for a governess for once our little baby is born.
“Well, love,” I try to placate the raging dragoness in front of me, “Mother and I-”
“MOTHER?!?! YOUR MOTHER?!?!?!” She paces our moderately sized dining room, something quaint and homey as she pointed out when we bought our home. It isn’t large and imposing like the Manor, nor does it have that overly-lived-in feel of the Burrow. It is a classic, nice middle ground. It doesn’t hurt that she fell in love with what is now the nursery upon seeing it. “What does your MOTHER think? That I am not good enough for her precious grandbaby now? First, I wasn’t good enough for her perfect little Draco. Now, this?!?!”
She’s hysterical as she breaks down crying for the thousandth time this trimester alone.
“Love, shush. Neither of us wanted to stress you out with a new baby and your job.” I hold my little witch in my arms, rocking her back and forth since I seem to be the only level headed one in the house at this Merlin-forsaken hour. “We both know how important your job is, to you and the wizarding world as a whole. The Remus Lupin Bill of Werewolf Rights is just an example. But Mother also knows how time-consuming a baby can be. Let’s just try it out. So, if anything, you can get some sleep. Alright, love?”
I lift her watery brown eyes up to me, and I don’t see any consolation on her part.
“No governess. Maybe a nanny, since we both work. But only to watch over the baby. I want, and will, determine our children’s education.”
I nod, “Agreed on one condition.” Her look could melt iron ore; her eyes are boring into mine so fierce—just one of the many things I love about her. “We agree that all of our children attend Hogwarts. No foreign schools. Unless they are sorted into Hufflepuff, then we can send them to Beauxbatons.”
She hiccups, “Not Durmstrag?”
I shake my head, “Never Durmstrag.”
~~~~
Two Years Later
~~~~
It had been a long day at work, and all I wanted was to see my wife and our two babies. Yeah, I did it again. She was feeling ill when Scorpius - our little boy - was a mere three months old only to hear that she was pregnant. Again.
The volume of that floo call could be heard in Scotland, as she made up new curse words to call my “Super Sperm”.
But now, we have our beautiful Lyra Louise, and I couldn’t be happier. Every day I count the hours until I can come home for lunch to play with them; then, when I am forced through the floo and back to work, I begin counting the minutes until the end of the day.
Today was no different. Lunch consisted of a mushy pea facial courtesy of Lyra, followed by an animal cracker scrub. There was still a smudge on my robes when I came back to work, but only those closest to me would have had the gonads to call me out on it.
I wear those smears like a badge of honor. I am a dad, a dad that plays an active role in his children’s lives. A dad that reads with them, tumbles on the floor with them, gets pretty facials from foods my kids don’t like (and neither of them like mushy peas, much to my wife’s disdain). It is such a joy to be part of their lives.
When I got home for the day, my two little angels had already eaten and taken their baths. Bath time is one of my favorite times, but I often miss it due to late meetings. Such was the case when I got home today.
I cross the floo into our parlor room and am greeted by the most precious site: Scorpius has one of his favorite books out and points to the pictures and tells Lyra the story in his own little words.
The two kids have piles and piles of books spread out throughout the house. Lyra has been know to fall asleep with one of her fairy books clutched close at hand.
Scorp can’t read yet, but knowing the woman on the floor snuggling our children close, it won’t be long.
The one thing she has passed onto them already is a love of books. I think I will need to expand the library sooner rather than later.