Draco's hands were around the mug of butterbeer and his foot tapped nervously on the cobbled stone floor beneath the table he sat at in the shade at the cafe called Angwin's. He had gotten up three times to look at the lovely sweets in a pretty case near the front of the cafe, and had not chosen anything. Taking out his wand, he cast Tempus to see what time it was for the forth time in fifteen minutes. It was only a few minutes before noon.

Taking a sip of the butterbeer, he grimaced since it was now warm, and rather flat tasting. He shoved the mug away and glared sharply at the young waitress that was heading towards his table to take his order. She smoothly veered away from his table and settled her attention upon a young couple whose heads were bent lovingly towards each other. Draco gave them a scowl, too, but it was half-hearted, so he turned his gaze to his hands.

For two, incredibly long minutes, he traced each finger by sight only. He then cast Tempus again, and when he saw that it was only a few seconds after noon, he slumped into his chair and immediately wished he hadn't because he could see his father striding down the street.

Stirring himself quickly to a more upright and stiff posture, he watched, somewhat in awe, as Lucius sans walking stick and hidden wand, walked down the street, head held high, unaffected by some of the stares he was receiving. There was a ghost of pride, but mostly his father exuded confidence.

The pride, over-blown for the public, Draco had been used to. The confidence had been more subtly hidden. Confidence was a trait that could be deadly to a follower of Voldemort.

Draco felt a bit of his own pride slip into his slight smile; pride for who his father was and for the sacrifices he had made to save the youngest of the Dark Lord's victims. That's what he saw in place of the arrogant pride the wizarding world was used to. Fleetingly, Draco wondered what happened to those children his father and godfather had saved. He intended to ask his father, but first he needed to speak to him about Sophie and the woman called Em.

The young wizard lost sight of his father as Lucius disappeared inside the main part of the cafe. A few minutes later, Lucius was emerging onto the patio and nearing the table where his son was seated. He noticed that Draco started to rise, but hesitated, and then sat back down.

"Hello, father."

Very slightly, Lucius' shoulders bowed as he clearly heard the strained, yet entirely formal tone in his son's greeting. There was no warmth and for a brief second, he wondered if his stupidity had cost him his son. Lucius folded his tall frame into the iron scroll work chair.

"Thank you for meeting me, Draco," Lucius began, feeling awkward. He had the uncomfortable sensation that this meeting was no more than the many business meetings he once had when he was the Malfoy patriarch.

"A letter, father?" blurted Draco, shocking Lucius with the intensity of emotion in that question. There was so much hurt, that Lucius felt his heart constrict.

"It was a regrettable error, son. I..." Lucius blanched as Draco's features tightened with suppressed anger, and a small bit of the fear that he had seen too many times on his child's face when he'd let his temper get the better of him. Pulling his cloak a bit tighter over his shoulders, he consciously put aside his own injured hurt at his son's rejection of him since he'd sent the stupid letter. "I can only plead that I was worried about Sophie and I just wasn't thinking. Severus did try to warn me of my stupidity; rather sharply, I might add."

Draco's hard gaze softened somewhat and he allowed a slight smirk to ghost at the left side of his mouth. His godfather's warnings were, as a rule, as sharp as a razor. Many of his students, at the receiving end of such warnings, swore their Potions professor often drew blood. As Draco's curiosity overrode his desire to remain cool and emotionless, though, he asked, "What's Sophie like?"

Lucius' own stiff manner relaxed. "A typical four year... my pardon, she keeps correcting me that her age is three and a half. She's very curious and loves to explore and she is an uncommonly creative liar."

"You let her lie to you?" Draco asked, not quite suppressing the smirk now dancing at both corners of his lips.

"I certainly don't encourage it, but her imagination does catch me off guard, at times. I think she might become a writer someday. I dearly hope not a reporter, though," Lucius grimaced in mock sincerity.

Draco chuckled. "Sophie sounds like a bit of a handful."

Lucius nodded. "Much as you were at that age."

"Me?" asked Draco incredulously. "I was too busy trying to be the perfect Malfoy!"

Lucius smirked, "Indeed, you were, but if you recall, you managed to stir up enough mischief that you kept most of the house elfs busy trying to make sure you weren't caught."

Draco sniffed, a glimmer of mirth in his silvery grey eyes, "I never was, was I?"

Lucius then sighed. "Not often, no. I wish I could have paid more attention to you then, Dragon. With Sophie, everyday has been heartache and adventure I wouldn't trade for the world. Once my memories returned, I wished so much that I'd had more such memories of you."

"I wish it could have been different, too," Draco said softly, lowering his head. He then raised his eyes and saw that his father's expression mirrored his own; that of what they'd both lost because neither father nor son could afford, then, to be what they truly wanted to be.

Draco shook away the bittersweet memories. He had a chance now to have a different sort of relationship with his father and he would not ruin the opportunity. He also wanted to be the big brother to his little sister that he was to Harry.

"You didn't say in your letter, but did you marry Sophie's mother, Em?"

Lucius shook his head. "I couldn't. Narcissa and I were bound in the old tradition which did not allow for the divorce that is accepted today. Severus and I did a bit of research recently and did discover that when you excised Narcissa from the Malfoy family, you also severed any bond she and I had."

Draco's jaw dropped. He hadn't known that and even though he knew his parents had never really loved each other, he hated knowing that he'd been the instrument of their dissolution. "I'm so sorry! I didn't..."

"Don't apologise, Dragon," Lucius admonished gently. "Your mother and I were never well suited and this gives not only me the chance at a new life, but Narcissa as well. Which, I hope, she will find."

An awkward silence fell between father and son, and Lucius patched it somewhat as he waved over the waitress. He ordered a coffee for himself while Draco ordered a pastry. For several minutes, once their order appeared upon their table, the two wizards drank or ate until the silence was too much.

"Is there anything else you wish to ask me, Dragon?" offered Lucius.

"I did have a lot of questions, but they seemed to have gone. I just... I just wish you'd told me, father. In person. Did you think I'd be angry or disapprove?" Draco had only eaten half of the pastry and he now picked up a napkin, nervously wiping away the stickiness that really wasn't there.

Denial was on the tip of his tongue, or using Sophie's illness as an excuse, but his son did deserve the truth, and the truth had been, "I was afraid. I was afraid you'd be jealous of Sophie because she had what you never did; a father who could be there for you." He sighed with regret as he stared for a moment into his empty coffee mug. When he looked up, Draco could see the pain in his father's eyes.

What Draco said next wiped the pain from his father's dove-grey eyes. "When may I meet Sophie?"

As usual, Harry was being stubborn. He and his father were at Gloop's Shoe Haven. Severus had indulged his son for twenty minutes as the seven year old had picked up shoes, trainers, even a pair of furry slippers; Harry had decided he'd have none of them. He liked his tatty old trainers, didn't care too much for his scuffed up school shoes, and was positive that his father was wrong and that his feet were the same size as always.

Gustave Gloop wasn't very happy with the stubborn child. Truth be told, he really didn't care at all for children, but they were three-quarters of his business, so he had to put up with them. He gave the father what he thought might be a sympathetic roll of the eyes, but Severus glared sharply back at the rotund man. He was annoyed with his child, and no one else had the right to be annoyed as well nor to think that he might go along with their displeasure.

Severus put a heavy hand on his son's shoulder and turned him around. "So be it, Harry, Madame Malkin's it is."

Harry tried to protest and looked towards Gloop for help, but the large man only scowled bitterly at him as Severus practically shoved his son out of the door. Gloop resented the loss of a sale.

Outside, Severus loomed menacingly over his young son, and gave him the glare that usually had first years crying for mummy. Harry, who was generally immune to his father's glares, had the good sense to look ashamed for his stubborn behavior, and muttered a quick apology before Severus could verbally reprimand him.

Mentally Severus counted to ten, then said darkly, "Do not tell me that you are sorry, when I know very well that you aren't, child."

"But, dad, I..."

Severus could hear the repeated apology on his son's lips. "Harry!" snapped his father without raising his voice from the depths of Abbadon.

Harry clutched his hands tightly behind his back and sniffled, "I don't want new shoes. I like what I got."

"What you have are pieces of leather held together by dirt, and quite possibly sheer force of will. You go through a pair of trainers and school shoes in a little less than six months, Harry. You ought to be pleased."

Harry's big, green eyes blinked curiously, "Why?"

Severus placed a gentle hand on his son's shoulder and directed him to walk by his side as they made their way to Madame Malkin's. "It means, son, that you're growing. Normally."

Harry stopped sharply. "Really? I'm finally growing right?"

Harry had always been small for his age, and it was not a problem he'd lost when he'd de-aged himself. Only the size of a four year old, he was six when Severus had taken him from his Aunt Petunia. Since he was younger, Harry had required a different formulation that his father had managed to flavor. Harry was happy to drink his Nutrition Potion at every meal, but if he was finally growing in a normal way, maybe he wouldn't need them anymore.

"You're this far..." Severus pinched his finger and thumb together leaving an inch between, "...from being the normal height for a young boy you're age."

"Cool!" Harry jumped up and down and then caught his father's hand in his. "C'mon, dad! I need new shoes! I'm growing like a... like a..."

"Weed?" smirked Severus.

"Yeah!"

With her hair held back by a kerchief and a Dust Repelling Spell on her pinafore, Sophie was happily busy dusting the lower shelves in The Book Worm. Hermione had taken time off from her grueling NEWTs revision schedule to help put the finishing touches on the book shop. She hadn't expected to meet Sophie and found herself completely enchanted by the golden-haired sister of Draco Malfoy.

Sophie had been shy at first, clinging to Echo's hand as she hid in the folds of Madame Snape's long dress. She had waved at Hermione, and although Hermione had spoken quietly to her, Sophie did not move from Echo's sphere of protection. It was only after both women had begun to clean, straighten things, and check inventory, that Sophie decided she wanted to help Hermione. It was Hermione that had Transfigured the pretty, pink kerchief to pull back her long, silky hair, and cast the Dust Repelling Spell on Sophie's clothing.

Sophie was an inquisitive child, and very well spoken for a nearly four year old. She had already asked Hermione a number of questions that Hermione had answered, rather thoroughly. Hermione remembered being just as inquisitive, about everything, at that age which is why her mother probably taught her to read so early.

"Your mama and papa don't do magic?" Sophie asked.

"They don't," Hermione replied simply.

"My grampa did lots of neat tricks with his wand, like makin' my toys dance. It made mama laugh and smile a lot." Sophie sneezed, twice, and Hermione stopped shelving books to send a tissue floating over to the little girl.

"Doesn't your grampa do magic anymore?" asked Hermione as she smiled at Sophie taking a leap for the tissue and catching it.

Sophie delicately blew her nose and then held it out for Hermione to vanish. "No. Grampa died last year. Papa and I were really sad. I cried a lot, but papa didn't, except when he thought I wasn't seeing him. Boys aren't a'posed to cry."

"I'm sorry you don't have your grampa anymore," Hermione sympathised. "He sounds like he was a lot of fun."

"He taught papa how to cook." She giggled as she picked up her dustrag. "Papa says grampa taught him because all he knew how to do was to burn water and summon house elfs, and grampa wasn't going to let his daughter starve to death. That was my mama."

"You still miss your mother, don't you?" Hermione tucked a stray strand of Sophie's pale gold hair back into the kerchief. "What was she like?"

Sophie scooted back so she was resting on her heels. She liked talking about her mother and her love for Em, radiated from her face as she talked.

"Mama liked to sing, and she was good, too. She din't do magic, but papa said her voice was magic 'cause she could calm animals. Mama used to sing to me, and sometimes to papa."

Sophie grinned shyly. "Mione?"

"Yes, Sophie?" Hermione watched as the little girl suddenly began picking at the edges of her dustrag.

"Do you think papa and I could live here for always? I don't want to go back to the circus."

Hermione shifted on the floor as she suddenly had a lapful of small girl who was playing with one of her curls. "I thought you liked the circus. Wouldn't you miss everyone there?"

Sophie hesitated and then tucked her head against Hermione's shoulder. "I like 'em, but I don't like the circus. It's got a lot of scary things like shadows, an' I really don't like the snakes."

Hermione felt the small body shudder. She'd been shocked to hear that Nagini, the Dark Lord's pet Naga had been in the circus. It was a vicious creature and should never have been in a place where a child could have gotten bitten. Hermione was glad to hear that the Aurors had destroyed the snake. She hugged Sophie tighter.

"I think your father is happy to stay in one place now, but you ought to tell him how you feel about the circus. Just in case," Hermione advised.

Sophie pulled away. "Maybe Uncle Severus will let us stay for always?" Suddenly she blushed. "I like Harry."

Hermione chuckled, as she realised the small girl probably had a crush on the seven year old. "Do you? I know he likes you."

Sophie shook her head. "I don't think so. I bet he gets 'noyed 'cause I follow him everywhere."

"I think you're just fooling yourself," Hermione said as she tapped Sophie's nose playfully. "I happen to know that Harry thinks the world of you."

Sophie threw her arms around Hermione, then crawled off her lap and went running to find Echo. Hermione laughed and just shook her head at the exuberance of youth.

Echo stood in the small doorway that led to the short alley that was between her store and a florist shop. Although dark, it was neat with tall barrels that had been charmed with Self-Vanishing and Cleaning Spells. Echo had been getting rid of a pile of preservative paper that her books had been wrapped in. As she tossed the paper into one of the barrels she'd heard an odd skittering noise that had her senses sharpened. She peered up and down the alley suspiciously, but now, it was silent.

"Aunt Echo!" Sophie arrived through the office to the back door and clutched Echo's long skirt. "When's Harry comin' back?"

Echo turned away from the alley and closed the door. "He'll be back after he gets his new shoes, Sophie."

"Okay." Sophie slipped her hand into Echo's. "I'm tired of dusting. What can I do next?"

As Echo turned away from the door to escort the small girl back into the main shop area, just before the lights were lowered with a wave of the witch's hand, a pair of eyes glittered watchfully through the window in the door. Within a blink, the eyes were gone, only leaving behind the echo of footsteps.

Harry tried to be polite and to behave, but he was really getting bored with shoe shopping. He also didn't like Madame Malkin who had a terrible habit of always pinching his cheeks and telling him how adorable he looked. At one point he'd caught his father grimacing and wondered if he was also getting disgusted with the proprietress.

"Stand up," Severus directed of his son with a slight huff of exasperated air. Harry did as he was told, his own little huff mirroring his father's impatience. Severus glared at the brown leather oxfords on his son's feet. They'd picked a good pair of trainers which would hopefully last more than six months, but the school shoes were another matter altogether. If Harry didn't complain about how tight they were, Severus didn't care for the price, or the look, or the fit. "How do they feel, Harry?"

Harry walked in a small circle, lifting and stomping his feet as he tested the comfort of the shoes. "They're okay, dad," he replied as he gave his father a hopeful smile. "No pinching."

Severus bent down and pushed on the end of the shoe to feel where Harry's toes were. It appeared that they fit well. "How much?" he asked over his shoulder towards Madame Malkin's hovering form.

"Ten galleons..." she blanched at the Potions Master's dark glance he threw her way, "but these shoes are charmed with an Anti-Scuff Spell and to accommodate the growth of a child's feet up to a full size. They'd last at least two years, sir!"

Severus considered the cost. At first, he hadn't thought twice about getting Harry the best of everything, but then he began to see that Harry, being the child that he was, wore out his clothing, or tore it playing, and went through trainers like they were butter. He began to shop a bit more frugally for his son, and so when faced with ten galleons for a pair of school shoes, it was a bit difficult for him to swallow.

"I like 'em, dad," said Harry, and smiled uneasily at the somewhat feral grin that Madame Malkin gave him.

"Fine," Severus gave in. "But those are for school only and you'd better take good care of them."

"Yes, sir!" Harry kicked off the new shoes and reached for the new trainers, which had magical laces that glowed different colors. He was laced up and ready to leave the shop just as his father paid for the new shoes.

Neither father nor son stayed long enough to hear Madame Malkin's triumphant farewell.

Draco was tempted to cast Tempus again, but didn't want to look anymore anxious in front of his father.

"Dragon, you're holding your breath again," Lucius said quietly, with a slight smirk.

Draco coughed and sat up a bit straighter. "I am? I was?"

"Severus and Harry will be picking up Echo, your young lady, and Sophie. They'll join us in about fifteen minutes."

The words 'your young lady' echoed in Draco's ears uneasily. It brought up a subject that had been bothering him since he'd learned that his father was not the man he'd known growing up.

"Father, couldn't you have told me?" Draco forged ahead as he caught his father's puzzled expression. "You and Uncle Severus saved Muggle kids... you... loved a Squib... father, you've never explained to me why you taught me to... to hate. Did you know what a spoiled prat I was?"

"I do know, and that's why you had your godfather, Dragon," Lucius spoke gently and with regret. "I was in a more untenable position than Severus was, especially since there was your own mother that was willing to turn you over to the Dark Lord for whatever he wanted." Draco blanched at the harsh words against Narcissa. He knew, now, she'd never really held any love for him, but to know that she was willing to sacrifice her own son to Voldemort... it made him feel ill.

Lucius caught Draco's hands in his and gripped them tightly to reassure his son as he spoke fervently, "I was doing everything I could to keep you safe. Where I could not afford to be lenient with you, or to teach you what you should truly know, Severus did for you."

For a moment Lucius bowed his head, and then dropped his face into his hands. Draco hesitated, then shyly placed a hand upon his father's head. For a moment, father and son were still, and then Lucius raised his head.

"There is so much I need to apologise for, Dragon..."

Draco interrupted, "Father..."

But Lucius wasn't quite listening as his memories skated harshly over the many times he'd dealt with his young son, wishing that instead of a rebuke, he'd taken his child in his arms instead. Then, there was his temper in which he'd been so afraid of hurting his only child, he'd fashioned an amulet, an illegal portkey, that would take Draco away before his father could hurt him. "So many things..."

Draco interrupted, more firmly this time, "Dad." Lucius took a deep breath and locked his gaze upon his son. "Dad, I understand what you did and I know we both have regrets. I think... I think we just need to put those behind us or we're going to be apologising for years. I have a sister to meet, and you," he smirked slightly with a mischevious glimmer in his eyes, "You have a future daughter-in-law to get to know."

Before Lucius could do anymore than blink in surprise, there was a joyful sound calling to him, "Papa!"

Lucius swung his exuberant daughter up into his arms and kissed both her cheeks. She began babbling happily, "I was a lotta help to Aunt Echo and 'Mione, papa! I did some dustin' an' sweeping an' I wasn't one bit lazy!" Sophie beamed triumphantly.

"Such a good girl you are!" Lucius enthused. "Now, I have someone I'd like you to meet."

Sophie's eyes dropped to the young man that was a very near image of her father. Draco had begun to allow his hair to grow after being tired of using spells to keep his shorter hair slicked back from the time he was a child. It was just below his shoulders and hung in a nearly straight, almost white curtain that curled softly on the ends. He wasn't quite the height of his father, but only shy by barely two inches. Shyly, Sophie smiled at him as her father slid her back down to her own feet.

"Sophie. This is Draco. Your brother," Lucius' was just able to clamp down upon the nervousness that threatened to turn his voice into a tremolo.

Sophie didn't say anything as she craned her neck back to look up at her brother. Doing so caused her to bump against her father's legs and he steadied her by lightly touching her shoulders with his fingertips.

For a moment, Draco felt as speechless as Sophie. He studied the little girl who had a silken curtain of pale gold hair that spilled softly over her shoulders and just to her elbows. Two small, glittery butterfly combs held portions of her hair up above her ears gracefully. Her eyes, unlike the silvery grey of the Malfoy men, were a rich, golden brown and very striking. Her cheeks were cherubic, and her smile shy as she returned the studious gaze. She wore a simple underdress of blue cotton decorated with darker blue, embroidered butterflies. Over this was a crisp, white pinafore.

"Hi, Draco," she spoke very softly.

Draco, at his godfather's sudden, but gentle nudge, crouched down so he was eye to eye with his small sister. "Hi there, Sophie. You're really beautiful."

Sophie blushed and for a moment she looked down at her shiny, black Mary Janes. When she raised her head, she said, "Papa says I'm as pretty as mama." Sophie stretched out her small hand and stroked it through Draco's hair. "I like your hair. You're as pretty as papa."

Neither father nor son could help themselves - they both laughed. Sophie glared at the two wizards, but squealed in sudden delight as Draco lifted her up off the floor.