On October 5th, Mockingbird Park had been setup for the Winter Little League Quidditch season with a Quidditch pitch that was the third of the size of the one familiar to Hogwarts alumni. On the ground were dozens of parents with their young ones, all of those trying out, holding onto their Quidditch brooms. Everyone seemed to be talking at once and there were screeches and squeals from excited children. It was a chaos of adults and children.

Long, narrow tables had been set up near the entrance to the park where there was coffee, tea, and hot chocolate under Warming Spells. This helped to reduce the October chill that heralded the arrival of Winter.

Volunteers wearing robes striped with the team colors, blue and yellow, navigated the crowds directing adults where they needed to go and making sure that children parted from parents weren't parted for long.

"Visitors, please go up in the stands," one volunteer spoke with a raised voice.

Lucius, Sophie, and Draco had of course come to watch the tryouts, so with Lucius leading the way, Echo, carrying Nikolas in a sling, followed the Malfoy trio up sturdy stairs and into the observation stands.

The first for Severus, Harry, and Tabitha was registering with the officials. It was early in the afternoon and Severus was feeling the twinges of one of those migraines that used to bother him so often when he was a teacher at Hogwarts. The chaos was setting his teeth on edge and he was feeling a little bit lost in the miasma. The Potions Master was at least comforted that his two oldest children were polite, well-behaved, and stayed near him as he wondered which registration table they needed to be at.

"Hello!" greeted a sparkly eyed young woman with a bright smile. "I'm free!"

Severus glanced up to see the young lady waving them over. He nudged his children in the back and they went over.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lowrie," intoned Severus with just a small hint of pleasure at recognising a student.

The young woman's smile vanished at the sound of that familiar voice and she stuttered, "P-p-professor Snape!"

He had to admit it, but Severus did miss the awe, perhaps even the fear, he had instilled in fifteen years of students. He had intended to stretch this encounter out a bit more, but his son stepped up, and broke the spell.

"Hi! I want to play Quidditch!" announced Harry.

Debra Lowrie took a calming breath and turned her gaze away from her old professor and to the little boy standing in front of him leaning against her table.

"You look like you do," grinned Debra, again. "Why don't you give me your name and age?"

"Harry Snape and I'm eight." Harry grabbed Tabitha's coat sleeve and pulled her closer. "This is my sister, Tabitha, and she's ten!"

Debra wrote down their information and then handed them each a number on a white card. "You're both going to be in the first wave of tryouts, so just go over to that bench and have a seat. We'll be about a half hour."

Severus ushered the children over to the bench and sat down between them. He allowed himself a small smile as they both wanted to burrow against his side under his voluminous cloak. He wrapped the cloak and his arms about his children, content and filled with pride despite the cold.

Not a half hour later, but nearly an hour later, the field was cleared and the children taking part in the first wave of tryouts were called. Harry was ready to go and he ran towards the coach who was calling out names using a Sonorous Spell to be heard. Tabitha held back, not moving from the bench.

"Nervous?" Severus surmised.

Tabitha nodded. "I didn't think there'd be so many people here."

"You've been practicing, Tabitha, and you know all the rules. You should have no trouble at all." He could not see her face as her head was bowed and her wavy, black hair hung like his did, like a heavy curtain of satin that obscured her. Severus didn't really know what was happening until he felt the heat of a teardrop on the back of his hand and heard a very small sniffle.

With his other hand, he tipped the child's face up so he could see her deep brown eyes. They were filled with tears. Severus pulled her a little closer, squeezing her comfortingly. That moved caused Tabitha to bury her head against his chest.

"Oh my dear girl," he spoke softly. "Tell me what's wrong." He felt Tabitha shake her head no. He patted her back and looked up just as Harry trotted back over, concerned that his sister had not followed him.

"Dad?" asked Harry.

"You go and try out, Harry," Severus nodded with his head. "I think your sister is a bit overwhelmed by everything."

Harry patted the lump under his father's cloak that was Tabitha. "It's okay, Tabby. You just sit here with dad." Harry ran off to join the other children.

After several minutes, while the children were flying in a circle, Severus heard Tabitha's muffled voice. "Draco's going to be so mad at me, daddy."

"Tabitha... child, lift your head, please." Tabitha did so and Severus wiped at her tears then gave her the handkerchief so she could blow her nose. When she finally let out a shuddery breath, Severus continued speaking to her. "Why do you feel that Draco will be angry with you, Tabby?"

"Because he bought me a Quidditch broom and... and I don't really want to play!" Her voice cracked. "There's too many people, and I'm not as good as Harry. I shouldn't have taken the broom, daddy. Draco wasted so much money on me!" Her head was once again buried against her father's chest.

Severus patted the little girl and just allowed her to cry her tears out. He realised in that moment that not since Draco had purchased the brooms had anyone asked Tabitha what she wanted. It was just assumed that she'd like to play Quidditch because just about every child in the wizarding world wanted to play.

After several minutes, when it seemed she'd cried herself into quiet, Severus stirred his daughter. "Look up, my dear girl," he said softly. "Harry's tryout has begun."

Tabitha raised her head skyward to see the first of three games being played out above them. Harry flew, dodging players and bludgers as though he were the wind itself. She smiled and nearly deafened Severus as she shouted, "GO HARRY!"

Severus suddenly tickled the little girl's ribs and smothered her with his cloak as she squealed, laughing. "Little terror!" Severus murmured and chuckled as he drew his daughter into his embrace. He kissed Tabitha's cheek, and then motioned upward right before the spectators applauded as Harry caught the snitch.

Harry was so full of energy as they walked to the Portkey point that he was very nearly skipping around everyone.

"Uncle Lucius! Did you see how I flew right under that girl?" asked Harry, repeating the motion with his hand.

Lucius smiled, "It was thrilling, Harry." In his arms was Sophie completely asleep.

"Yeah! The coach said I was a 'natural'!"

Harry bounced over to his father who was rocking Nikolas in his arms. "Dad! Did you see how I caught that snitch? No one else saw it, but I did so my eyes must be doing really good!"

"I think they are doing quite well, son," chuckled Severus.

Harry's bouncing stopped as he caught up to his mother's side and slipped his hand into hers. "Mum? Are you gonna miss me since I'm gonna be all busy with practice and games and all of that?"

"I'll miss you just like I miss you when you're at school, sweetheart." Harry beamed and skipped a few feet beside Echo, before taking her hand in his.

Tabitha was walking behind everyone watching Draco ahead of her. Severus had not said anything to Draco. He'd been very understanding about her reluctance to play and she was all right with that, but she was still feeling trepidation over how Draco would react, having wasted money on her.

Draco was very conscious of Tabitha's eyes on him. He knew something was wrong since she hadn't tried out, and ever since Severus and Tabitha joined them in the stands, she'd been avoiding looking at him. Draco suspected she wanted to talk to him, and he was worrying over whether or not he should say something to her.

They reached the Portkey point, though, so neither Draco nor Tabitha could say anything. The Portkey was one that Severus created from an old tin that had once held Albus Dumbledore's lemon drops. At the intonation of a password, they were all whisked away from Mockingbird Park and onto the front lawn of Fairwinds. Lucius, after a round of farewells, departed for his home with Sophie still asleep. Draco was about to follow his father, when Severus stopped him.

"I think you and Tabitha need to have a little chat, Draco," said Severus.

Tabitha's jaw dropped as she stared at her father. She knew she had to say something to Draco, but she wasn't ready!

Tabitha and Draco had the front parlor to themselves for their little talk. Unfortunately, there was no talk going on. It was perfectly silent except for the rustle of clothing as one or the other shifted in their chairs. Finally, it was Tabitha who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she said mournfully as she twisted her hands in her lap.

Draco's eyes widened. "You're sorry? Whatever for, Tabby?"

"You spent so much money on me and I like playing Quidditch at home, but I just didn't want to play in the Little League!" she blurted. A tear fell from one eye.

"Hey..." more tears began to fall and Draco moved over to the divan where Tabitha sat and pulled her into his embrace. "Tabby, hush. There's nothing to be sorry for. I should have asked you, but didn't ever think to."

"I... I like the broom, but there were just too... too many people and... I'm sorry, Draco! I'll give it back!"

"No you won't, Tabby," Draco said firmly. "That broom was a gift from me to you. Playing in Little League was just a bonus, not a requirement," he smiled.

Tabitha studied Draco's eyes intently, to be certain that what he was saying was true. She smiled, "I really do like the broom, Draco. Thank you."

Several days later - The Three Broomsticks
A small portion of an argument

"Hermione! I can't brew that potion," Draco hissed, doing his best to keep his voice down as his eyes darted furtively here and there in order to spot eavesdroppers.

"I'll buy the ingredients!" Hermione sniffed. "Or, I could just go to Muggle..."

"You told me those weren't entirely accurate," sniped Draco a bit too fiercely. He immediately regretted his anger as two tears fell from Hermione's eyes.

"This will ruin everything!"

Draco left his seat and moved to another chair closer to his fiance. He drew her into his arms and whispered, "We have to tell Severus, love. You know we can trust him and he can brew the potion for us."

A nod against his chest was the only reply the young man received.

A few more days later

Lucius buttoned the simple, celery green cotton shirt, tucked it into his favourite pair of jeans and then glared at his reflection in the full length mirror. After several seconds, he ripped the shirt off, not heeding the buttons that flew everywhere as he dropped the shirt on the floor. He stomped over to his wardrobe, passing two other cotton shirts sitting discarded on the floor.

With frustration, Lucius slammed the door of the wardrobe shut, strode away and snatched at his dressing gown that lay on the end of his bed. He slipped it on, belted it too tightly, and then loosened it. Grabbing some Floo powder from the small, abalone shell on the mantle, he threw it in and growled, "Fairwinds!"

It was only a few seconds, but Echo's head appeared. "Lucius! You're not dressed!"

"Ech...!"

Echo vanished and a few minutes later was replaced by a smirking Severus. "Now that you've frightened my wife, Lucius, what may I do for you?"

"I need Draco, Severus," Lucius stated, completely ignoring his friend's light humour.

"I'll send him over in fifteen minutes," nodded Severus curtly and then his head vanished from the green flames.

To Lucius' great annoyance, it was nearly a half hour later when his son arrived through the Floo into his father's bedroom. Draco stumbled from the fireplace and caught himself before he sprawled with greater aplomb onto the floor.

"You needed me, dad?" asked Draco as he Scourgified the soot from his apprentice robes.

"I've gone through my entire meagre wardrobe and for the first time in... Merlin, so many years, I wish I had my closets from Malfoy Manor!" Lucius declared hotly as he broke into a short and rapid pace in front of his son.

Draco frowned. "You want your old clothes? But, I thought you rather liked your jeans and those..." his eye caught sight of the three shirts on the floor. "...shirts...? Dad, what's going on?"

"Have you forgotten?" demanded his father.

Draco's frown only deepened further. Lucius snorted indelicately. "Of course you have! You and Sophie will be meeting Belle tonight!"

"Don't yell at me!" Draco shouted.

Lucius, who rarely beheld his son's temper, especially if it was directed at him, was stunned into silence. In that moment, he truly looked at his son, and wasn't pleased with what he was seeing.

Draco's skin was nearly as pale as his godfather's and there were dark circles under his eyes. There was an anxiousness to his gaze, like a gazelle wondering where to run from the leopard.

Lucius' gaze narrowed suspiciously. "Severus hasn't been working you too hard, has he?"

"So what if he has?" Draco snapped. He then shook his head before his father could retort, "No! No... I didn't mean to imply that, father. I'm sorry. No, the work is fine and Master Snape is giving me the weekend off. He's uhm... well... he's wondering if I'm coming down with something."

Lucius strode over to his son and placed the back of his hand to the young man's forehead. "Are you? I don't detect a fever."

Draco jerked away from his father's attention. "No. I'm not." Draco stepped back a few steps then turned away. "Just... no... it's nothing."

"Dragon..." Lucius spoke worriedly.

"Dad, I can't talk about it now, all right. When... when I can... just not now, dad."

For a long and awkward moment, father and son stood uneasily in silence. Draco used every ounce of energy he had to face his father and give him a good-natured smirk.

"Look, you don't need your old fancy clothes, dad. Miss Ollivander isn't Narcissa. Just be comfortable. All right?"

Lucius smiled softly and then surprised Draco by taking the young wizard's face into his hands. He peered deeply into his child's eyes, studying them, looking for something. When he could find no clue to his son's behavior and fatigue, Lucius drew him into a quick embrace.

For those few seconds, Draco felt like he was five years old again, seeking comfort from his father. He returned the embrace and then they both let go. Draco turned to the Floo, grabbed a handful of the powder, threw it in, and called out his destination, "Fairwinds!"

That evening, Lucius had dressed casually in a pair of nut brown trousers, his favourite cowboy boots, a white, heavy cotton shirt, a fitted vest of green velvet with a satin back, no tie, and at the insistence of Sophie, he had left his long, pale hair untied and smoothly brushed over his shoulders.

He was patiently waiting in the living room to see how his children had turned out. They finally arrived and he was very pleased.

Sophie wore a pretty dress of white satin with a lacey over-dress of yellow. Her cornsilk gold hair had been plaited into two soft French braids on either side of her head and adorned with little green sparkles.

Draco still looked tired despite a Glamour that he'd used to erase the dark circles under his eyes and to give him a bit of warm blush to his cheeks. He wore a very nice looking Muggle suit of dark blue wool that Hermione had helped him to shop for a few days ago. His shirt was white linen and he wore a long tie of royal blue silk. His shoulder length hair had been neatly clubbed at the nape of his neck.

"You both look perfect!" the father beamed with pride. Sophie hugged Lucius, but Draco, who seemed not to have heard the compliment, dropped into a chair and was obviously trying to keep his eyes open.

Lucius wanted to say something, to ask questions about Draco's health, but he chose to keep his words to himself. He summoned a Pepper-Up Potion and handed it to Draco. Draco took the potion gratefully and downed it in one swallow. In minutes Draco was looking better.

There came a knock at the front door and Lucius nearly tripped over Sophie in a bid to answer it. While Lucius recovered, Sophie opened the door to a lovely woman with auburn hair wearing a simple, but fetching dress of blue, homespun cotton. The skirt flared from the waist and at its hem was a tantalising glimpse of a lacy cotton slip with blue, green, and yellow thin ribbons woven through the lace.

Lucius smiled, a bit dumbly, at the lovely Islabelle until his son poked him in the ribs with a pointed elbow. "Dad, let the lady in, would you?"

If Lucius had spared his son a glance, he would have seen an amused smirk on the young man's lips. As it was, he ignored Draco and invited the lady in. "Come in, Belle. Please."

Belle curtsied graciously, then winked at Lucius before stepping over the threshold. "Thank you, Lucius."

Lucius gave her a chaste peck upon the cheek and his heart skipped a beat when he saw the faint blush his affection caused. He went into smiling stupid mode again, leaving Draco to take over the introductions.

"I'm Draco and this is my sister, Sophie. We're very glad you could come to dinner tonight, Miss Ollivander." Draco smirked at his father. Lucius caught the expression this time and snapped out of his haze.

"Please call me Belle, Draco," said Islabelle with a demure smile. She held out her hand and Draco, in the old courtly manner he'd been taught by his father, took her fingertips, and bowed. Islabelle then crouched down, poufing out the skirt of her dress, so that she could better meet Sophie's eyes. "Hello, Sophie. You look very beautiful tonight."

Sophie smiled shyly, but didn't scoot away to hide behind her father's legs as she sometimes did when meeting new people. She held up the hem of her dress so Islabelle could see the lace better.

"Papa said I needed a new dress so we went to Madame Malkin's and this was waiting just for me!" Sophie declared.

"I do love it when frocks are waiting for you," smiled Islabelle. "So very convenient, isn't it?" She stood and Lucius grinned with pride as Sophie, showing her acceptance of Islabelle, slipped her hand into the witch's hand and led her through the living room and into the kitchen.

Draco and Lucius followed the two ladies. Draco leaned over and whispered, "I think you like her, dad," he chuckled softly.

Lucius gave his son a wink, "I think I just might, Dragon."

Lucius had become quite a good cook and so dinner was served not in their dining room, but in the large kitchen that he'd splurged upon as the house was being built and was his pride and joy. Everyone, including Islabelle, was recruited to help, and that meant everyone, including Draco in his brand new Muggle suit, wore an apron and helped to prepare ingredients. Sophie sat on a tall stool as she tore up lettuce for the salad and dropped it in a large bowl.

"Have you decided what you'll do with your Potions mastery, Draco?" asked Islabelle.

"Master Severus has told me I need to decide that at the end of the year," Draco replied. "He believes that it's best to have one's goals set and then to work towards them. I'm still deciding if I want my own Potions business, or an apothecary shop, or I might even teach at Hogwarts."

"Go with your joy," advised Islabelle. "When you imagine where you'll be when your apprenticeship is done, where do you see yourself?"

Lucius, who was preparing the chicken for the main course, changed the topic of interest when he saw his son's cheeks colour unnaturally, even beneath his Glamour. "I believe that whatever Draco decides will be the right thing."

Islabelle's discerning gaze caught the look of relief from Draco to his father. Leaving the topic of Draco's future alone, she turned to Sophie and began helping her with the lettuce. "What do you do all day around this house, Sophie?"

"I go and play with Nikolas at Fairwinds while papa works with Uncle Severus. Aunt Echo needs me so she can take a nap just like the ones I take in the afternoon. I even get to hold Nikolas, but I don't like him when he smells bad."

"Sophie!" gasped Lucius. Draco and Islabelle laughed and Sophie looked up from her lettuce tearing in puzzlement.

"Papa, you don't like him either when he smells!" she accused hotly. "You always give Nikolas to Uncle Severus when he does!"

"Lucius! How can you be so callous towards a baby?" teased Islabelle.

"Let us speak no more on this particular subject, shall we?" Lucius frowned, and then stole a quick kiss from Islabelle.

Sophie giggled at the sign of affection and Draco just gave his father an exaggerated roll of the eyes.

Sophie, who usually sat beside her father at meals, moved her chair so she could sit beside Islabelle. Lucius was more than pleased at the comfortable, even family-like atmosphere that eating in the kitchen had fostered.

Draco still worried him, though. The young man ate very little, and did little in helping the conversation along, except by answering direct questions. He hated the thought of interfering, but by this point, he knew for certain that something, dreadful, was bothering Draco and he would no longer sit silent.

Islabelle, sensing correctly that something was wrong with young Draco, chose to cut her visit short after they had retired to the living room for a short bit of conversation. Sophie was starting to yawn, so she volunteered to put the little girl to bed before she left.

Draco and Lucius saw Islabelle to the door where she startled both men by focusing upon Draco. "There are some things, young Dragon, that are better borne by speaking of to your elders." She leaned over and touched the palm of her hand to his heart. "Don't put this off any longer, Draco."

Islabelle swiftly kissed Lucius goodnight, and in a swirl of cloak and dress, she Apparated away.

Lucius shut the door slowly and then turned to regard his son. Draco spoke up, "I like her, dad."

Lucius smiled warmly and leaned against the door. "I'm glad that you do, son."

Draco managed a small smirk. "I think Sophie's in love, though. You might have to do something about that."

"You wouldn't mind if I did, would you, Dragon? Belle would never replace your mother," he said quietly.

"Oh! But I wish she would!" Draco said a bit more vehemently than he'd meant to. Draco stepped into the living room and dropped down onto the sofa. "Belle showed more concern for me than mother ever did, dad. Narcissa won't even write to me anymore." He shook his head, as though to dislodge any memories of his mother, then said, "I think she'd be a great mother to have and I know that Sophie would adore her. I think Belle's good for you, too." Lucius sat down in his chair. "Dad? Were you ever this happy with Sophie's mother?"

Lucius nodded. "Sofiamina Davissimo," he smiled in remembrance.

Draco snorted. "You really go for the ladies with the unusual names, dad. Narcissa, Sofiamina, Islabelle."

Lucius mockingly glared at his son, "And I suppose Hermione is just a plain, old name, then?"

"All right. You win." Draco lay his head back against the back of the couch. He closed his eyes and the Glamour that had given his son a nearly healthy look, fell.

"Draco, what's wrong?" his father asked gently, but bluntly.

"Nothing," murmured Draco, his eyes still closed.

"So, you look like Death warmed over for nothing, then?" asked Lucius, a bit frustrated, but trying not to show it.

"Yeah, dad. Just, please, let's not go into this now."

"When then, Dragon. Damnit! Open your eyes and look at me!"

Draco instantly sat up straight, his eyes open and fixed upon his father. The tone of voice that Lucius used was one that had never boded well for Draco when he was a child. It still made his heart race with dread.

Lucius quickly closed his own eyes briefly, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then opened them. "I'm certainly not going to punish you, Dragon, but I'm worried about you. You're losing weight, you look like you haven't slept in days... you told me earlier it wasn't Severus working you hard, so it's obviously something else. Can't you tell me?"

"No," Draco said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What does your godfather say? Surely he's noticed, hasn't he?"

Draco didn't reply. Severus had noticed. Especially when Draco botched an important potion that consisted of several very expensive ingredients. Severus had not been very happy with him and had even sent him to his room at Fairwinds. Draco had been angry, and humiliated to be treated like a lowly first year, and though he had meant to talk to the Potions Master, after that scene, he didn't wish to speak to anyone.

His father was picking at a still fairly new scab, and Draco, tired, was ready to lose his temper with Lucius.

"I can't talk about it, so would you, please, drop it?" Draco whined.

Lucius hated whining. From children, he generally could ignore it, but from a grown, young man, it was just unseemly, and rude. He felt a burning anger he couldn't control as he leapt up from his chair and grabbed Draco by his shirt front.

And that was a mistake.

For all those times when Draco was too small to defend himself from his father's temper; for when Lucius was angry at someone else, but Draco was there to be yelled at, or hit, Draco was no longer defenceless. He was now as tall as his father.

The young man, acting on instinct, struck out with a fist. Lucius was knocked backwards as his son's fist connected with his chin. Although Lucius slowed his fall by grabbing the chair he'd been in, it was in danger of toppling over on him. Draco caught the chair and knelt down beside his father, tears falling onto his cheeks as realisation of what he'd done tore through him.

"Father! I'm so sor..."

"No!" Lucius exclaimed as he held up a hand. "You've nothing... nothing! to apologise for."

Draco grabbed his father's hand and helped him to his feet. Lucius continued, "I... shouldn't have done that, Dragon."

"Father, I... " began Draco, but he couldn't finish. He'd hit his father!

Lucius moved to the sofa where Draco had roughly seated himself. He sat down beside the young man and held his hands. "Please, Dragon, please forgive me. For not just now, but the past. You never deserved any of it."

"I have... I did forgive you, father. It seems I'm still angry... but... fath... dad. Yes, dad, I do forgive..." Draco couldn't finish and just threw his arms around his father.

Lucius still felt hideous, deep down to his soul, but he put his arms around his son, his grip firm. How could he have done that? It scared him. He had been so certain that that part of his past was gone. It was so far in the past... so far.

Lucius pulled away, but remained close to his son. "Dragon, this is no excuse for what I did, but I've just been worried for you. I don't want you to shut me out."

"And, I have been shutting you out," Draco sighed in frustration.

Father and son were quiet for several long minutes. Draco looked into the eyes that were a reflection to his own and he sighed once more. "I'm scared, dad."

"About what?" asked Lucius very softly. For a long moment he thought Draco wasn't going to say anything, but then his son's cheeks coloured.

"Her... Hermione. She's pregnant."