The Order’s meeting is finally over. Severus even manages to speak to Dumbledore in person, finally telling him that he now has custody of his daughter, even though he has already sent him a letter. Having lost his position as a spy, Severus feels as valuable as Sirius Black in updating the Order with the latest news. The truth is that since Holly moved into the Manor, Severus had not left it, apart from that one time when he and Narcissa went to Diagon Alley to buy her clothes and toys.

            He will need to start manoeuvring soon in any case. He is determined to prove that he is still helpful without being a spy. Much like Mundungus Fletcher, Severus knows his ways around the seamy underbelly of Diagon and Knockturn Alley.

            Over the years, he has also managed to expand his contacts to provide quality and quantity of ingredients for potions that might be helpful for the war effort. At the very least, he has time to experiment and brew potions for the Order: he already has several batches of Polyjuice potion and Veritaserum bubbling away. He plans to start brewing various healing and sleeping potions – he is even looking forward to brewing Felix Felicis. It is tempting to try it for himself. Perhaps it will bring him luck in finding a way to communicate better with his daughter: he is sure that nothing will succeed in this endeavour better than Liquid Luck.

            Regulus waylays him before he can make good his exit, dragging him into a private alcove and casting a Privacy ward.

            “How’s your child?” Regulus asks without mincing words, and Severus glares at his erstwhile friend.

            “She asks about you,” he tells him reluctantly. Not to Severus, however: her words are only for Lucius or Narcissa. His daughter has established a relationship with everyone but Severus.

            The smile Regulus returns at the news is not smug, to Severus’s relief. Regulus has never been conceited in such a way, unlike his bastard brother: his smile is genuine.

            “I’ve been thinking about her as well.”

            He reaches into his pocket and withdraws two plushies, a black and a white owl: the plushies are lifelike, while the owls blink at him and spread their wings.

            “Here,” he tries to hand them to Severus. “Give her these from me, won’t you?”

            “Would you not prefer to give them to her yourself?”

             “I wouldn’t mind talking to her again,” Regulus admits, pulling them back when Severus makes no move to take them. “She’s a lovely child.”

“To you,” Severus snarks without meaning to.

            “She’ll come around. Just give her time,” Regulus tells him consolingly, earning a considering look from Severus.

            “Why will you not tell me what made her open up to you?”

            Regulus surprises him with a wink and a grin.

            “That’s no fun for me, my friend.” This time Severus is forcefully reminded of the cretin, Black.

            “Put those away,” he adds, snarling, crossing his arms defensively.

            Regulus, obliging, puts them away.

            “So, when can I come over?”

            It is on the tip of Severus’s tongue to tell him he cannot.

            “Perhaps tomorrow morning.” Severus grudgingly tells him. “Lucius is planning a trip to the muggle world with the family since Holly has requested some things that can only be found there,”

         “I wasn’t aware that Lucius or Narcissa knew their way around the muggle world,” Regulus says in surprise.

          “They do not,” Severus tells him. “Neither do I.”

          “What is it?” Regulus asks curiously.

           “It is something called a skipping rope.”

             Regulus does not look any better informed than Severus, although he has vague memories from his playground days with Lily and Petunia. Until Holly asked him for one this afternoon, Severus had forgotten much of what he knew of the muggle world. Since Abraxas fostered Severus when he was sixteen, he only ventured out to visit Tobias. Anywhere else has been readily relegated to the back of his mind.

            He is not at all looking forward to reconnecting with the muggle world.

            “I’ve never heard of those. Do you even know where to look?”

            “No,” the word drags from his lips.

            “I see.”

            “What would one do with the skipping rope?”

After explaining to his one-time friend what little he knows about a skipping rope, Severus sighs, “I should get going.  I will speak to Lucius and Narcissa at breakfast. Floo over for eleven.”

            “Thank you, Severus,” Regulus smiles as he dispels the Privacy ward.          

Severus is keen to get out of Grimmauld Place as quickly as possible after that conversation: getting away from Molly Weasley, on the other hand, is more complicated than escaping the Whomping Willow unscathed. He is somehow pressed into a seat in the kitchen, with a plate shoved in front of him before he can protest.

Thankfully, the kitchen is not rammed, though Severus has to put up with the likes of Black, who is laughing obnoxiously in the back, studiously ignoring him, with Lupin hanging on his every word. Potter is sitting a little further along the table: he and Longbottom are in the middle of the gaggle of red-heads, while Granger is nowhere to be seen. He is surprised that Potter is not sitting with his flea-bitten dogfather.

Regulus makes sure to sit next to Severus, which the Potions Master is grateful for. The Malfoys have probably already eaten and were probably sitting in the Family room. Severus had intended to have a House-Elf deliver a plate in his quarters, but Molly hadn’t allowed him to leave.

            Arthur sits close by Regulus in a deep, whispered conversation with his eldest son, Bill. Given that half the kitchen occupants are Weasleys, Severus must refer to them individually.

            Severus finds himself surreptitiously observing the Weasley parents interact with their children: they all have an instinctive bond, an implicit trust that they’re not afraid to manifest. There is mutual respect – and everything Severus lacks.  They have raised their children. He is so desperate to connect with Holly that he is trying to find inspiration from the Weasleys. Lucius would laugh himself silly.

            Keeping his voice low, Regulus whispers, “Lucius will spoil her tomorrow, won’t he?”

            Severus cannot deny this: Lucius doesn’t set a good example in spoiling Draco so excessively. He is much worse than Narcissa when it comes to shopping for Draco. Considering how much he has taken with Holly since her arrival, Severus would not be surprised if they returned with half of the store from tomorrow's trip. Then again, Lucius does not have many expectations of the muggle world and what they sell – considering them inferior.

            “Lucius has never been able to curb his excess,” Severus mutters back, forking another bite of the lasagne in front of him. The man did end up buying seven brooms instead of one, a move that benefitted the entire Slytherin Quidditch team. Severus had not cared in the slightest that it isolated him from the other three Houses. An advantage is an advantage, though they still lost to Gryffindor. As this thought crosses his mind, he glares in Potter’s direction without realising it.                

            Unknown to him, Regulus has been watching him. He misses the frown the other wizard gives him, and by the time Severus turns back to his plate, Regulus has smoothed his expression into a thoughtful one.

           “Harry,” Regulus calls across the table casually.

           Severus looks up from his plate, trying to eat quickly so he can leave soon.

            Startled, Potter shoots a questioning look and tears himself away from his riveting – Severus sneers the word – conversation with Longbottom, whose face falls as his eyes skitter away from Severus’s.

             His friends fall into silence as they, too, listen, nosy beggars that they are.

            “You know your way around the muggle world quite well,” Regulus says conversationally, and Severus sees Arthur’s ears prick at the mention.

            “Reasonably,” Potter answers cautiously. His eyes flit to Severus’s for a split second before focusing on Regulus.

            “Where would one buy a skipping rope?” Regulus says it like it is a grand joke.

            “A skipping rope?” Potter echoes with confusion.

            “Harry’s got one in his trunk,” Ron Weasley says through a mouthful of lasagne.

            “Oh?”

            “What’s the fascination with a rope?” Arthur interjects with excited curiosity.

            Potter is still giving Regulus a look of confusion but answers haltingly.

            “We used to use one in primary school, for PE - Physical Education – lessons. It’s just a piece of rope, usually with plastic or wooden handles.”

            “Who would use these? What’s the purpose? Why does Harry have one?” Arthur shoots question after question in every direction. His offspring exchange looks of amusement and exasperation.

            “Well, they’re mostly for fitness,” Potter shrugs, turning his attention to Arthur. “In school, they’re used either by teachers within the classes or children on the playground.”

            For some reason, Potter aims a sharp look at Regulus, who merely smirks at him.

            “My cousin Dudley uses them because he took up boxing a couple of years ago. They’re good for footwork,” he continues, still looking at Regulus.

            “Footwork?” Bill Weasley leans forward with interest, while Arthur asks at the same time what boxing is.

            “Boxing’s a sport where two opponents spar using their hands, you know, like punches and jabs.”

            Severus knows the sport. Barbaric!

            Potter resumes, “Skipping is good for footwork because you have to constantly stay light on your feet to avoid getting hammered by your opponent.”

            “Fascinating,” Arthur smiles. “How does it work?”

            “Well, you swing the rope over your head and jump over it before it gets tangled around your ankles,” one of the twin menaces answers.

            Arthur looks surprised.

            “You know how to do it as well?” he asks his sons.

            “Harry showed us in his first year. He’s been doing it for years and keeps up with the fitness aspect.” The other twin menace replies. “Oliver even integrated it into our Quidditch practice: no one in the team is as good as Harry, though Katie Bell comes close.”

            “Why would you need footwork when you’re riding brooms?” Lupin asks with a frown.

            “You don’t question Oliver Wood,” the twins and Potter answer together, generating laughter all around, apart from Severus. However, Severus has assigned Wood many a detention for bringing his Quidditch diagrams to his Potions classroom.

            “So, this footwork thing –” Bill interrupts, “do you think it’ll work for duelling?”

            Everyone gives the eldest Weasley son a look of surprise, followed shortly by a contemplative silence.

            “Perhaps Harry, Fred and George can show us how it’s done,” Arthur suggests eagerly.

            “After dinner,” Molly states firmly before Potter has a chance to respond. She is speaking for the first time since she thrust a plate full of food in his face.

            Severus is surprised that Potter does not protest. Molly, after all, has curbed his chance to show off like the arrogant creature he is.

            “I got mine in the muggle world,” Potter finally answers the original question. “If you can’t find one in Diagon Alley-”

            “They won’t,” Ron Weasley interrupts authoritatively. His mouth is still full of food, to the disgust of many. Granger, who has just walked in, gives the Weasley’s youngest son a repulsed frown as she takes a spare seat next to Ginevra Weasley.

            “Then, in the muggle world, you can usually find them in sporting shops such as Decathlon or Sports Direct. They’re both good for quality items, really,” Potter finishes, going back to his food – probably pouting.

            “Thank you, Harry,” Regulus says brightly.

            Once everyone has returned to their conversations, Regulus turns to Severus and says, “Do you think it’ll work? The footwork thing Bill alluded to?”

            Severus, at first, almost opens his mouth to scoff at the idea before thinking back to Holly’s skills with the rope, how she effortlessly jumped over it without even looking, trusting her coordination with the swings.

            “It’s feasible,” he admits.

            Regulus smirks at him.

            “I’ll drop by with some muggle money in the morning if you can do me a favour and purchase some of those skipping ropes for this lot as well.”

            “Fine,” Severus agrees. An image flits through his head: the Order at the next meeting, everyone holding skipping ropes to show off their footwork or stumbling blindly and breaking their ankles. He suppresses a snort. The latter is more likely an event.

ooOoo

“They’re taking Holly out to the muggle world, aren’t they?” Harry asks in a whisper after Snape has left.

            He is surprised that the dinner went as smoothly as it did. He had seen Sirius throw dark looks at Snape, but Lupin had fortunately kept him distracted. Harry had decided to ignore the man, but Regulus was the one who called him.

            Regulus chuckles.

            “Yes, apparently Holly was asking for a skipping rope. Severus says she’s getting more comfortable with them. Well, she’s still resisting him.”

            Harry nods. Keeping his voice low so they’re not heard by everyone else, he probes, “Is she really okay?”

            “Severus has invited me to the Manor tomorrow after breakfast,” Regulus answers, keeping his voice down. “I’ll give her your owls in person, and you can give me a letter as well. I wish I had one last time, but I didn’t know she was already there. At least I managed to send one with Lucius’s owl, though it’s best not to rely on Artemis.”

            Harry gives Regulus a grateful look.                                                             

            “Yeah. Yeah, I can give you a letter.”

He wishes he could see Holly in person, but he knows there’s no way he will be allowed out – not to mention Snape’s reaction if he tries to tag along.

“Holly’s probably trying to get back into gymnastics,” Harry explains.

Regulus nods. The other wizard has seen Harry practicing various exercises in one of the spare rooms. Occasionally, his friends join him, though the twins regularly attend more than anyone else, except Hermione, who watches over them with a book in hand.

“Listen, I’ll give you some muggle money I have and a list of things that Holly will need. Nothing big, just everyday items she’s probably left behind. She’s probably left everything in Surrey. She’ll need a hula hoop, and see if you can convince them to find her an ankle skipper. She loves those.”

Harry explains what all this is.

“I have asked Severus to get some extra skipping ropes for everyone here. I didn’t know your friends had already used them,” Regulus comments.

“Yeah. Me and Dean, another lad from the dorms, like to keep up with muggle fitness. Dean prefers football to Quidditch, so sometimes a few of us kick a ball on the quidditch pitch when it’s free from the House teams practicing,” Harry clarifies.

“The list sounds like a good idea,” Regulus remarks. “In fact, I’ll ask Severus to pick some extra things, tell him they’re for us, and make sure Holly gets one of everything. At least it’ll keep you lot occupied. I know it’s been difficult for everyone being cooped up in here all summer.”

“All my homework is done,” Harry nods. “There’s only so much reading we can do, well, apart from Hermione. I can try to teach the Weasleys a few more things. Actually, listen, I know we’re not technically allowed to use magic, but we can still learn how to dodge spells. It’ll be a one-sided duel, really, with you shooting spells, but we can practice getting out of the way. Do you think that’s what Bill meant by the use of skipping in duelling?”

“The idea has merit. I would like to see you do some skipping to get an idea.”

Harry smiles in agreement.

ooOoo

Severus apparates back to the Manor with relief. He checks on Holly, who is asleep but restless. Severus creeps quietly over her bed, carefully adjusting the covers over her again, tucking her in once more. He is about to leave when he sees her hand clutching something: it looks like a photograph, but it is too dark to tell who is in it.

            He tries to gently pry it away from her, but her grip is too tight, and he does not want to disturb her. She is still ratty with him, so, despite his curiosity, he decides not to use his wand to shine a Lumos over it. He can wait until the daytime to see who is in the picture.

            Severus heads to his bed and changes into his pyjamas pants and grey shirt. Clearing his mind, he allows himself to drift off to sleep.

            Feeling like he has not been in bed for long, an insistent buzzing has crept into his consciousness. He jerks abruptly awake as he realises it is the nightmare ward placed around Holly’s room. He scrambles out of bed or tries to but ends up falling to the floor as he gets tangled in the covers.

            “Oma!” He hears his daughter scream as soon as he opens the door. He heads towards Holly’s room, but she is already outside.

            “Oma!” He turns at the sound. Striding rapidly to the stairs, he looks over the bannister and catches a glimpse of black hair in the soft candlelight.

            “Holly, darling,” he hears Narcissa’s voice.

            Narcissa must have wards for Holly’s room as well, he thinks, as he rushes down the stairs.

            “Aunt Cissa, I saw Oma! Oma… Oma’s here!”

            Severus hates the desperation and despair soaked in Holly’s voice.

            “Darling, there’s no one there,” Narcissa’s voice drifts gently in the silence.

            “She is,” Holly insists. “She’s outside. Please, please, I need to go to her.”

            “Hush, darling. There’s no one out there,” Narcissa continues soothingly, and Severus follows the voices towards the Conservatory.

            “She’s out there. Let me go,” Holly shrieks. “Let me go! Oma!”

            Severus rounds the corner and sees Narcissa on the ground holding on to a frantic Holly, trying to escape her grip. Narcissa has her arms wrapped gently around her, desperately struggling to get outside; the woman lifts her head and catches a glimpse of Severus in the reflection of the windows.

            “Hush, my sweet. There’s no one there, Holly,” Narcissa keeps her voice low and soothing. “Your Oma isn’t there.”

            Slowly, Holly ceases her struggles and looks up at Narcissa.

            “She isn’t?” Severus hates hearing the way her voice breaks. “No Oma?”

            “No, my darling.”

            Severus can only stand frozen as Narcissa comforts Holly, heedless of the cold floor she is kneeling on.

            “Oma wouldn’t wake up,” Holly’s words end on a sob. “I tried to wake her up.”

            Severus is surprised that it took so long for Holly to break down: he’d expected this moment to come much sooner. He desperately wants to step forward, reach out, and comfort his daughter, but the memory of the resentment painted in Holly’s eyes is such that he desists. There are too many unsaid things, secrets withheld, and too many unexpressed emotions.

Holly is still sobbing. “I miss Oma,”

            “I know, my darling,” Narcissa whispers, gently running her hand through Holly’s dark hair.

            Narcissa’s long hair is dishevelled. She is wearing a simple robe that she must have thrown on quickly. He has never seen her in this state –unkempt: it spoke to the speed and urgency with which she responded to the wards around Holly.

            Holly’s weeping dwindles to some sniffles; now, she clutches tightly at the front of Narcissa’s robes.

            “Will you stay with me?” the little girl croaks.

            “Of course, my sweet,” Narcissa agrees. She does not move to get up yet but starts humming softly, still caressing Holly’s head gently.

Severus hears a slight movement behind him. He turns and sees Lucius coming down, looking similarly dishevelled. His long hair is tousled, but it looks like he has attempted to smooth it out by running his hands through it. He has also thrown on a robe, legs and feet bare, though he clutches his wand.

Neither Severus nor Lucius leave. Holly’s sniffles have quietened down to regular breathing. She has fallen asleep in Narcissa’s arms, though the latter remains on the floor for several more minutes before cautiously getting up.

Severus walks over and places a hand on Holly’s back, her head resting on Narcissa’s shoulder.

“Let me take her,” he offers quietly.

He is hurt when she tenses under his hand and clings closer to Narcissa, even in her half-sleeping state. He turns away from the other woman to avoid seeing her look of pity.

“Go,” he whispers harshly, moving to allow them to pass.

“Give it time, Severus,” Lucius assures him, and he nods jerkily.

Narcissa’s footsteps fade as she climbs the stairs. Lucius stays with Severus until he collects himself together, waiting until he is ready to go back upstairs. Severus pinches the bridge of his nose: he is ready to start screaming himself. He just wants to be her father.

Lucius leads him to a nearby chair, and Severus lets himself be guided to it. He buries his face into his hands, hiding his emotions from the other wizard, concentrating desperately on clearing his mind, shielding himself from his emotions. 

It takes Severus the better part of twenty minutes to compose himself. Lucius waits with him the whole time, not commenting on the silently shaking shoulders of the Potions Master.

Narcissa has left the door open. She has made herself comfortable on Holly’s bed, still holding his sleeping daughter. Severus seethes with envy as he watches them briefly before heading to his bed, where he spends the night staring at the ceiling.

ooOoo

As soon as Regulus Floos into Malfoy Manor, he can sense the subdued atmosphere. He picks up the pace with concern, not waiting for his hosts to greet him. Roker, one of Lucius’ many elves, appears in front of him before he leaves the Floo room.

“The masters and mistress are waiting in the dining room,” Roker advises him.

“Thank you, Roker,” Regulus nods at the House-elf and makes his way to the room in question, holding back the urge to grill the creature about what might have happened last night. He can sense the tension all the way to the dining room.

“Morning,” he greets in a voice that mirrors the sombre atmosphere.

“Regulus,” Narcissa rises from her seat to welcome him and surprises him by pulling him in for an embrace. Lucius and Severus give him subdued nods.

Regulus automatically returns it.

“What’s happened?” He follows her to the dining table, taking the empty seat next to her.

“Would you like something to drink?” Lucius asks mechanically.

There are still leftovers from breakfast scattered over the table. Regulus declines but asks, “Is anyone hurt?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Lucius dismisses his concern.

They all look like they’ve been up all night.

“Has anyone slept?” Regulus asks when there’s no other answer.

Narcissa takes the floor again: “Holly had a… difficult night.”

Regulus looks at her carefully: she is pale.

“She was calling for her grandmother,” Severus admits stiffly.

Regulus instinctively glances at Lucius, who subtly shakes his head: Severus is still unaware of Eileen’s connection.

“Is she still asleep?”

“No, she is awake,” Narcissa answers, reaching for the cup of coffee Lucius has poured for her.

“Is it all right if I go up to see her?”

Severus sighs and nods: he looks like he has not slept the whole night either.

            He gets up from his seat to leave. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieves Andromeda’s missive, placing it in front of Narcissa.

            “Your reply.”

            He walks out without another word.

Holly’s door is open, so Regulus hears the murmurs of Draco’s one-sided conversation. It seems he’s trying to cheer her up, with little success – Regulus sees that as he stands in the doorway of the bedroom. He gives a firm knock on the door and smiles gently at their startlement.

            “Uncle Regulus,” Holly perks up. Getting out of the bed, she runs towards him, throwing her arms around his waist. He wonders if he would have received the same greeting if she had not known his connection to Harry. He picks her up, feeling warmed by the way she trustingly rests her head on his shoulders despite thinking her friendliness is only due to Harry.

            “Draco,” he greets the young wizard with a nod.

            Draco nods back, giving them a cross look between grumpiness and happiness: he had probably been trying to improve her mood all morning.

            “I’ll, er, leave you to your visit then,” Draco says awkwardly before walking stiffly out the door. He has the foresight to close the door on his way out.

            “How’s Harry?” It is the first question that erupts from her lips once Draco is out of earshot.

            “He misses you, thinks of you,” Regulus tells her. “He knew I was coming today, so he gave me something to give you.”

            Still carrying her, he walks to her bed, arranging himself so he can lean against the headboard and place her in his lap.

            “I miss him, too. I dreamed of Oma last night. I dreamed she was here and coming to take me away. I thought it was a dream, but it was like she was still here when I woke up, calling for me, and I got up to follow her. Aunt Cissa said she wasn’t really there.”

            Regulus does not know what to say to that, so he just pulls her close instinctively. Having never had children of his own and having minimal contact with either Draco or Nymphadora, he is unsure if he should say anything.

            “I wish Harry had been here last night,” she continues forlornly.

            “Harry had a nightmare last night too,” Regulus admits. He noticed it this morning when Harry came down for breakfast with Ron and Neville, casting worried looks at him.

            Holly does not respond to that, laying her head on his chest trustingly.

            After perhaps a minute of silence, he pushes her away gently and says in a conspiring voice, “I have a letter from Harry.”

She smiles widely, sitting up with more energy than before. “Really?”

            Regulus reaches into the inside pocket of his robes and pulls out a thick envelope. He is more amused than offended when she snatches it from him.

            “Go ahead,” he prompts when she hesitates to open it.

            She tears it open without further encouragement, pulling out the letter tucked inside. She also pulls out the white feather Hedwig gifted her, holding it tightly in her fist as she silently reads her letter. Regulus pulls out the black and white toy owls from his other pocket with a growing smile.

            ooOoo

Draco walks into the dining room feeling upset. He slept through the whole night, missing the disturbance caused by Holly’s nightmare.

            No one would tell him anything except that Holly had a night terror. Due to this, everyone, bar Draco, slept in, delaying breakfast by about an hour. Holly just picked at her food, and Draco’s appetite deserted him in the face of the sombre atmosphere. Something other than Holly’s nightmare happened – he can feel it.

            Then, after breakfast, she sullenly retreated to her room. He spent the last hour trying to get her to talk or play with him but ended up talking about his classes and his dorms, attempting to tell funny jokes and did not get as much as a twitch of lips from her.

            Then Uncle Regulus walked in, and all her teeth were on display. He is jealous that he did not get that reaction from her.

            He does not immediately notice his mother’s expression, so lost in his wounded pride. At first, he attributes it to the earlier atmosphere but then sees the letter she is looking at with trepidation.

            “Whose letter is it?” The attitude that comes with the question is due to the firm belief that they will once again exclude him from whatever is happening.                       

            “My sister,” Narcissa answers faintly.

            “The one who married the mudblood?” Draco says without thinking, instantly paling as three sets of eyes turn on him, varying from anger to disappointment. His father is giving him a hard look: it is only recently that Lucius has warned him about using his language.

            “Sorry,” he mumbles and reaches for an apple from the fruit bowl.

            “We told you, Draco,” his mother says in an icy tone that is rare for him to hear from Narcissa, “times are changing. We must change with them or fall into decay.”

            Draco nods.

            “Are we still going to the muggle world?” he asks, trying to divert attention from his rebuke.

            “We will if Holly is up for it,” Lucius answers in a calmer voice.

            Draco is not looking forward to it at all. Why do they need to go out to the world of the inferior ants? The wizarding world is much better – the fact that he doesn’t know what’s in the Muggle world at all doesn’t even cross his mind for a second. Still, not wanting to get snapped at again, he takes a bite of the apple.

            “You do not have to go with us if you choose not to,” Narcissa says with a knowing look.

            Draco does not want to go to the muggle world, but he does not wish to be excluded either. He had already made concessions to Holly by rolling on the ground with her while practicing her gymnastics. He doesn’t know what came over him to do that.

            Perhaps, he’ll go along and see what the fuss is about. Get that bloody skipping rope thing.

            “You should open the letter, Narcissa,” Lucius encourages softly.

            “What if she doesn’t want to meet up again?”

Draco doesn’t like the lost look in his mother’s eyes. So, what if the mudblood lover never wants to meet his mother again? No big loss. They’d managed without speaking to her for… Draco pauses his thoughts. Well, it must be more than fifteen years. Probably more than twenty, he thinks. He knows Andromeda has a daughter older than him.

Draco takes another bite of his apple to stop himself from commenting about Andromeda again. He doesn’t think his parents or Severus will be happy with what he has to say.

“It is better that you know her answer and save yourself the turmoil of what if,” Severus states in a firm voice.

Narcissa takes the letter and slowly opens it. They are all watching her as she reads it, not showing the slightest sign of self-consciousness. Draco tries to chew quietly as they wait for her to tell them what it says.

“She is willing to meet,” his mother declares, at last, folding the letter neatly and replacing it carefully into the envelope. “She’s suggested a parlay.”

“You should write back with a time and place, perhaps see if she is willing to come here,” Lucius suggests.

Narcissa nods. Draco knows she is already planning. He takes another bite of his apple and chews thoroughly to stop himself from making another thoughtless comment.

 Looking a little lighter, Narcissa puts Andromeda’s letter away.

“Severus, you need to have a frank conversation with Holly,” Narcissa begins, giving  Severus a stern look. “Don’t think we have not noticed how you avoid talking to her about Jasmine. The longer you leave it, the harder you will struggle to communicate with her.”

“She barely looks at me,” Severus sighs. “How am I supposed to have a conversation with her?”

“She can deny it all she wants, Severus,” Narcissa says, speaking gently, “but you are her father. You need to take control of the situation. You are allowing whatever guilt you feel to cloud the issue, which only permits her to drift further away from you.”

Draco listens intently as he bites into his apple again.

“You are leaving for Hogwarts soon,” she points out. “If you do not take steps to resolve this tension now, it will only fester. I know you said you would be back every weekend as long as you are not on duty, but those weekends will only be filled with hostility, resentment and frustration. Then, think about Christmas: if you haven’t made any progress, then you will dread the holidays.”

“You are right,” Severus concedes. “I will speak to her. Today.”

“So soon?” Draco blurts out in surprise. Then again, Severus is never one for delaying.

“I do not want to let this strain between us grow,” Severus admits. “Whatever happened between Jasmine and I, it is in the past. Jasmine should not have taken it out on Holly, but she did, and I’m going to have to deal with its consequences. The sooner, the better.”

“A word of advice, Severus,” Lucius offers in a serious voice. “Do not confront her in her bedroom. That is her space, where she retreats to feel safe. If you try to talk to her in her room and things escalate, she will forever think of her bedroom as a place where she will not feel secure.”

Draco frowns as he thinks about the reprimands he has received. He gives his father a speculative look; his parents have never scolded him in his room. Thinking back, he realises he has always been summoned to the room next to his father’s study, not to the study itself. It dawns on him that the room in question is somewhere he already associates with a thorough reprimanding: if he is summoned to that room, he knows he is in trouble for something.

“You should take her to your apartment,” Lucius says in a bright voice, pouring himself another cup of coffee.

“So she can forever associate a telling off with my rooms?” Severus pronounces in a dry voice.

“Then she can run to her dear Uncle Lucius to complain about her cruel father,” Lucius states, calmly taking a sip from his cup.

Severus snorts in amusement.

“And spoiling her silly, no doubt,” Severus shakes his head.

“That is what uncles are for,” the other waves off nonchalantly.

“Uncle Severus never spoiled me,” Draco can’t help but input.

“Your parents spoiled you enough,” Severus argues, glaring at him.

“Very true,” Lucius concedes.

ooOoo

It is almost lunchtime when Holly and Regulus enter the dining room. Severus notices straight away how trustingly Holly is holding Regulus’s hand. He clenches his jaw, jealousy ripping through him like a werewolf’s jaw at a human jugular. He looks away. Whatever magical words Regulus said to her on their first meeting had Holly conversing with him in an easy-going manner.

            He hates the easy familiarity everyone has with his daughter. He is treated as if he doesn’t even exist. It is a miserable feeling. However, he might be able to resolve it today after their trip from the muggle world. Narcissa is right: he needs to take control.

ooOoo

Draco attempts to straighten his expression as he wears his best muggle style clothes. None of his friends has ever been to the muggle world, and after venturing out today, he can go back and tell them it’s not worth it. He doesn’t have high expectations of the experience.

            Personally, he thinks his parents are taking this whole thing too seriously. So, what if Holly grew up in the muggle world: the Magical World is her new home now. She doesn’t need to go back there ever; she just needs to accept that Severus is her father and her new life.

            Heading back downstairs, where his family is waiting at the Entrance Hall, they all take a carriage towards the gates. Narcissa takes a firm hold of Holly, who scrunches her eyes shut in preparation, and they disapparate with a small pop. His father holds on to Draco securely while Severus apparates by himself.

            They appear between two buildings, but Draco does not recognise where they are, disoriented by Muggles that bustle around them without a second glance.

            Ignorant morons, the lot of them, Draco sneers.

            They all glance around curiously. Apart from Holly, none of them let their uncertainty show, though Draco does notice his parents exchange a look.

            “Where are we?” Draco asks, trying to keep the contempt from his voice.

            “Manchester,” Lucius answers absently, studying the small patch of gardens across the street intently. “This is the muggle area of Piccadilly Gardens. My contact told me this is a popular shopping destination.”

            He fishes out a piece of paper, muggle from the colour of it, and reads aloud, “Arndale Centre. It is one of the largest Arndale centres in the UK, a huge shopping district with indoor stores.”

            Draco attempts to peek at the paper Lucius is holding, glimpsing carefully drawn boxes.

            “A very detailed map,” his mother comments as she studies the paper as well.

            Lucius smirks at his wife. “My PI is paid well for information,”

            “Where to first?” Severus asks.

            “We’ll start with that one,” Lucius points at the vast white building directly in front of them. They cautiously begin walking towards the building, crossing the expanse of the garden. Draco’s head swivels in all directions, trying to catch everything.

            To his left is what looks like the Knight Bus. Draco has never travelled on the Knight Bus, though he knows it is a triple-decker bus, a ghastly purple colour. These are all a bizarre mix of colours: brown and cream, orange and white, green and yellow, red and yellow. Craning his neck slightly, he can see names in huge lettering at the front with random numbers.

            “What’s that?” he asks curiously.

            “A bus station,” Severus answers after a glance.

            “What’s the writing on the front mean?”

            “The names and numbers of the bus,” Severus explains. “This seems to be the main bus station in the city centre. I believe the buses travel from here to various locations across the city. That one says Oldham, which is another town within Manchester.”

            “Intriguing,” Lucius murmurs.

            Draco notices his mother holding on tightly to Holly’s hand; he wonders if this is for Holly’s sake or her own. They are in a new world, after all. He resists the urge to cling to the back of his father’s jacket. He is not a child, and he is not afraid.

            He is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice he has lagged. He almost misses the giant yellow monstrosity bearing down on him, blaring its horn blindly. 

“Draco!” Holly lets go of his mother’s hand and darts forward to pull him out of the way. His heart is beating rapidly.

He’s barely been here for five minutes, and already the muggle world has tried to kill him. Barbarians! He opens his mouth to ask what the hell this was, but Holly beats him to it.

“Are you an idiot? That tram could have killed you. Why didn’t you move? Didn’t you hear it? Twit!”

His jaw drops from being yelled at by a nine-year-old. He sees his parents exchange amused glances. Narcissa steps forward to appease Holly.

“We’ve never seen one of those yellow things before,” Narcissa says gently, pulling Holly back again.

Draco flushes as people walk by, laughing at his getting told off by a child.

“That bus thing should have stopped,” Draco mutters, embarrassed.

“It’s not a bus,” Holly corrects him like he’s an idiot.

Even Severus’s lips are twitching.

“It’s a tram,” she says slowly as if he is a dunce.

“What’s a tram, my darling?” his father asks, thankfully averting her intense gaze away from Draco.

Holly gives Lucius a look of patience and elucidates, “It’s like a bus, but it travels on those rails. It’s just another method of transport, like a bus or a taxi. I think it’s more expensive than a bus. But it’s faster.”

“It almost killed me,” Draco bursts out.

“You did walk across the tracks like a snail,” Holly points out, still looking at him like he’s a dimwit.

They all dutifully look at where she is pointing: there are metal lines in the ground.

“Well,” Narcissa says, hiding her smile, “Draco will certainly be more careful from now on, won’t he?”

Draco scowls but nods.

His mother retakes Holly’s hand. “You’ll have to be our guide.”

Holly looks up at Narcissa again, studying her to see if she is being patronised.

“Are we going in there?” Holly points towards the white building called Lewis’s they were walking towards.

“Yes,” Lucius nods. He takes the lead, and the others follow.

They enter through what seems to be the main doors, colossal floor-to-ceiling glass doors giving a view of the main foyer. Displays show a discreet sign overhead with mannequins and row upon row of white shirts, black trousers and skirts on show.

“Is this all they offer?” Draco asks with a funny look, and Holly shrugs in response.

“It’s probably their back-to-school offer. It happens throughout summer so parents can buy their kids school uniforms – at least the more common clothes. I had to wear black skirts for my uniform, so Oma used to get those for me.”

The store is more extensive than Draco expected. They walk past the foyer and into the main store. Menswear is on display, and he is confused when no one approaches them to offer service. Where are the assistants? Why aren’t they being catered to? A quick look at his parents shows that he is not the only one confused.

Severus seems the most at ease and begins to peruse the merchandise. Draco heads cautiously towards the first row: they seem to be button-down shirts, hanging oddly shaped black sticks.

His parents drift off together to the next display, and Draco gingerly handles the clothes while Holly stays with him and looks at him with amusement.

“The blue one looks nice,” she offers with a smile.

“The blue one?” Draco frowns at her.

He follows the direction she is pointing at: there is a blue shirt hanging from a black stick, the top part a curved metal that hooks on the spike that sticks out.

“They should have changing rooms if you want to try it on,” Holly tells him.

“Changing rooms?”

His parents have come over and are looking down at her curiously.

Giving them a funny look, she explains, “Where you go to try on clothes to see if they fit.”

They all exchange glances.

“What do they do with the clothes that don’t fit?” his mother asks.

“They hang them back up out here.”

“You mean, someone is allowed to try clothes on, and if they decide not to buy them, they’re brought back out here for someone to try on?” Lucius asks slowly.

Holly nods.

“So, these clothes out here are just for people to try on? Where are the clothes if you want to buy them?” Draco demands.

“You’re holding them,” Holly says.

Draco lowers his gaze to the shirt in his hand, at first in confusion, then in disgust. He quickly jams the hook on the nearest spike and wipes his hands on his front, feeling contaminated.

What a barbaric practice!

            Severus comes back to them and finds their disgust amusing as well.

            Dropping his voice, he comments, “Muggles tend to mass-produce. They do not make everything to measure like Madam Malkins or Twilfit and Tattings.”

Draco appears horrified. “They don’t?”

            “It’s more cost-effective to mass-produce. Not everyone can afford to have their clothes tailored.”

            Draco shudders.

            “We’ll use a Refreshening Charm if we decide to try on the clothes,” Narcissa pronounces, though her voice is dubious.

            “We shall scope out the rest of the store, see if there is anything that might catch our interest, and then move on to the next place. Today is simply out the first foray into the muggle world.”

            Draco is careful not to let any of the clothes touch him as they continue to explore. It’s simply not hygienic to buy clothes someone else has tried on – he’s not a Weasley looking to purchase second-hand rags. He is pleased when they leave the store, exiting through the door on the opposite side of the building that leads out to another minor road. He carefully looks around for signs.

            Market Street, he reads. The street is wide enough to fit several carriages side by side. With the weather as good as it is, the street is heaving with people, busier than Diagon Alley when it was time for parents to take their kids to buy school supplies.

            Draco begins to feel uncomfortable but has to hide it. Slowly, they make their way from store to store. The Malfoys are all stunned when they realise that the muggles seem to have more than one dress shop. Even Diagon Alley only has the two that Severus mentioned earlier. Draco shudders at the thought of people trying on clothes in each store: so far, he has counted nine stores for just clothes — Lewis’s, which they have just left. Debenham’s store is located across from Lewis’s; further up, there is an H&M (though he doesn’t know what the H or the M stands for), Selfridge’s, Marks and Spencers, Topshop and Top Man… Next, BHS! Why do muggles use initials? So lazy… Then, several shops just sell shoes!

            Holly laughingly tells him that Clark’s and other shoe shops like that also allow customers to try on shoes, even if they decide not to buy them. However, he is confused as to why a store called Boots does not sell shoes. Holly says that they stuff like shampoos, medicines and make-up, but this does not clarify his confusion at all.

            Then, inside the Arndale Centre, there are other clothes and shoe shops – Draco counts three jewellery stores and two for perfumes and colognes. His parents don’t seem to be able to resist visiting the jewellery stores, so the others are forced to follow.

            Unlike the clothes stores they visited, Draco himself finds more at ease when an assistant approaches them with a fake smile. He has no intention of buying their inferior trinkets. His family always buy their jewellery from Madam Adalhard’s Trusty Trinkets, or, if they are really in need of something, they get something custom made from the goblins. However, they do have to be careful if they buy from the goblins – greedy little beasts!

            Draco is surprised when his father is seriously considering buying jewellery made by muggles. The shop assistants are falling all over themselves, trying to make a sale to his parents, as Lucius and Narcissa are studying gold and something called platinum very seriously.

            Beaverbrooks is one of the few stores where the way they are dressed works for them. Draco, his parents and Severus are dressed formally, making them stick out like a bowtruckle among wands.

            Here, in the jewellery store, they look like what they are, people who have no issue with spending money. His mother picks out several rings, and this is one of the few occasions where they do not shudder at trying something on. Even Holly takes a look at the charms bracelets on offer. Severus scrutinises the men’s watches on display, so Draco follows him. They look more complicated than a magical watch. Though Draco is happy with his current watch, he can’t help being attracted to the ones on exhibition. Another shop assistant comes over to him and explains the various features: Draco understands some of them, such as the waterproof aspect.

            He looks at the prices, trying to remember the exchange rates. He doesn’t comprehend the pound sterling very well, so he must calculate everything to galleons to understand it better. Holly wanders over and Draco, without any real intention of buying a muggle watch, involves her in the choice as if it matters to him.

            They end up with three different watches in front of them, with similar prices ranging from two to three thousand pounds. They are not the most expensive watches on display, but, from the looks of the shop assistant, buying them would earn her a hefty commission if Draco understands her gleeful expression. She can see he and his parents can afford their prices.

            “Have you picked something out, Draco?” his mother comes over to ask, as Lucius goes over to another counter where Draco sees several boxes being organised and packed away.

            “I have narrowed it down to these three,” he tells her, showing off the watches in question, though he does not care about it.

Narcissa waves her hand negligently, “Get them all.”

            Holly and the shop assistant both give her an incredulous look.

            “Really?” they both ask together.

            Holly gives the prices another look again and then back at Narcissa, who has already turned away to speak to Severus, who is observing them silently. Draco wonders why Severus hasn’t tried to engage Holly in conversation yet; he has seen the older wizard sneaking glances at Holly the whole time she talks.

            After a quick word with Severus, Narcissa takes Holly away for something and sends Draco after him.

            “Mother said to come with you,” Draco says, approaching Severus.

            “Holly was looking at the charms here earlier,” Severus tells him. They look down at the tiny pendants on display just as another shop assistant follows them.

            “You were speaking to my daughter earlier… she was attracted by these accessories,” Severus explains.

            “Oh, you mean that little cutie?” the assistant gushes. “She looks just like you.”

            Draco wants to laugh at Severus’s effort to bite his tongue. He is not usually the kind of person to make small talk. He would rather complete his transaction and leave. He has no patience for the spiel he is subjected to for others to earn their commission.

            “Did you happen to see which charms she paid the most attention to?” Severus inquires with masked tolerance.

            “Oh, yes,” the idiot assistant nods sycophantically. “Such a delightful child. She was looking at the owl charm, and that one, the little deer charm here – and I think… maybe the little cat. She seemed interested in the animals. And, of course, the little unicorn. All little girls seem to be interested in unicorns.”

            Severus smiles politely (rather, it is an awkward show of teeth) as the assistant laughs.

            “Will you wrap them all up … please,” he tags on. “Also, could you …” Severus clears his throat.

            Studying his godfather, Draco realises he is embarrassed.

            “Could you also add the one with the baby’s footprints on it?”

            “Yes, of course. I’ll bring them to the counter and meet you there.”

            “Please, do not let my daughter see them. They are a surprise,” Severus says self-consciously.

            “Oh, got you,” the twit winks. “Does she already have a charm bracelet?”

            Severus gives her a blank look.

            Taking pity on the dark-haired man, he is led to the charms bracelets display, where Draco helps him choose a sturdy bracelet.

            They leave Beaverbrooks fifteen minutes later with several bags. Finding somewhere discreet and where they do not see any of the muggle security cameras, Lucius casts a spell to shrink it and slips it into his pockets.

            Draco is fascinated against his will at the different shops and is even persuaded to buy several jackets by his mother and Holly.

            Both Draco and Lucius wrinkle their noses in identical expressions of disgust when Holly tells them they should try on jeans. In one of the shops, they find an assistant who helps them find their measurements for the jeans, just to appease Holly, which they do end up buying.

            Severus buys a pair in black, but Draco sees his mother sneaking in a blue ‘denim’ trouser for the Potions Master as well.

            They eventually go to a shop called Sports Direct, where they can purchase the skipping rope – the whole reason for this excursion in the first place!

            His father grabs all the skipping ropes, placing them in one of the baskets provided at the store entrance, placed there specifically for shopping purposes.

            Draco watches, staggered, as Lucius then buys at least three of everything in what Holly tells them is the sports and fitness section. Not many people know this, but Lucius is a closet tinkerer, and when something catches his interest, he can be found locked in his Toy room –as Narcissa calls it – fiddling away with his gadgets and trying to figure out how they work. Regulus has provided Severus with a list of things for Bill Weasley, and they’ve emptied the shelves for those things.

            The staff at Sports Direct are astonished at the number of items bought and have to be Confunded when asked how they were going to carry all the weights and dumbbells and whatever else Lucius has added to the basket.

            Draco thinks his father has gone mad as they turn to a discreet alcove away from the security cameras and summons Hokey to take everything away and place it in one of the spare rooms until they get back home to sort it all out.

            Draco thinks they are done until his mother spots a store called Waterstones: a muggle bookstore. Intrigued, they all walk in and end up spending another hour in there just browsing the books on the shelves, then another hour selecting various books. His parents end up in the sports and fitness section, where Lucius purchases a copy of every book while his mother purchases a dozen or so on something called Yoga. Even Severus ends up buying several (dozen) books in the muggle science section. Draco sneaks a few dozen of his selection of comic books, just out of curiosity. He’s not interested in muggle comics. Whatever the Hulk is about can’t be more interesting than anything he can find in the wizarding world. And Batman? It’ll be a laugh to read about a man dressed as a bat, fighting with an entertainer named Joker. The things muggles came up with…

They have to use another Confundus and Featherlight spells to carry them all out, summoning Hokey once more to take everything away.                          

It is several exhausting hours later when they have finally finished exploring the shops. Thank Morgana, it’s all over. Draco is so hungry that he could eat a dragon.

            Then his father gets the bright idea to eat at a muggle place. Was he trying to poison everyone?

            “We can go to the food court,” Holly suggests. She looks worn-out too. They make their way up the es-cal-ators – moving staircases, like at Hogwarts, except only the steps move on these and not the whole staircase - up to the Food Court. Draco instantly banishes the thought that creeps into his mind that these are better than the Hogwarts staircases.

            The smell of the various foods has Draco’s mouth-watering, and he assures himself it’s because he’s so hungry that he could kill a hippogriff – lunch seems like yesterday to him.  Yet, he still looks around with trepidation. They don’t really mean to eat here, do they? Even his mother looks wary.

            “What do you recommend?” Lucius asks.

            “Going home,” Draco inserts.

            “Maybe McDonald's?” Holly says uncertainly. “Oma didn’t like it, but she treated me sometimes.”

            “We’ll try this then,” Narcissa says instantly. “Which one is it?”

            Holly points to a sign with the word McDonald's in a bright yellow sign, where there is a life-size statue of a clown in red and yellow. Draco gives his parents a horrified glare.

            “Holly and I shall go get the food. The three of you should find yourselves … somewhere to sit,” his father says.

            Holly takes Lucius by the hand and leads him away, while Draco promptly begins his litany of complaints.

            “Do we really have to stay here? Eat in this dump? What if we get food poisoning? This place does not look hygienic … What abou-”

            “Call it an experiment, Draco,” his mother interrupts tiredly. “Everything else went well; perhaps the food will be better than you think. Now, let us find somewhere to sit. My feet are killing me.”

            “I hope you have Stomach Soothers at home, Uncle Severus,” Draco can’t help but snarl.

            “I do,” his godfather assures him. “Enough for all of us.”

            They find an empty table, and Severus casts a privacy ward and a muggle repelling ward on the area and casts Cleaning Charms on the chairs and table before gingerly taking their seats. The court is slowly emptying; there are fewer people around now.

An almost uncomfortable silence falls as Narcissa peers around anxiously awaiting the return of Lucius and Holly, and Severus’ eyes glaze over as if he’s Occluding. Draco, in a desperate attempt to make conversation, prompts:

            “Why did you buy all that junk from the sports store?” Draco asks.

ooOoo

Lucius picks Holly up, balancing her on his hips, and carries her to the small queue in front of the yellow and red monstrosity. He is beginning to regret suggesting eating in the muggle establishment. He should have cited exhaustion and taken them all home. The afternoon has been more productive than he had anticipated, and his inner Ravenclaw (indeed, that Hat had considered him for that House) is itching to look through all his purchases.

            Lucius’s interest in the muggle world is only due to Potter and Holly, as they seem inextricably connected. Severus had an upbringing that made him deny his muggle roots. Ironic that Eileen was the one who continued to instil muggle values in her grandchild and Potter, using her influence to ensure that they could survive in both worlds if necessary.

            He realised throughout the day that Holly was quite comfortable navigating her way through the various stores; though she might have been bored in more than a few, she still comported herself like an adult and took her role as guide seriously. She was not knowledgeable about everything they came across, but she showed enough interest to remain patient with them. Still, that did not stop her from needling Draco when he showed his aversion to certain muggle aspects.

            “Next, please?”

            It is their turn to order.

            “Have you decided, darling?” He gives her an indulgent look as if he is humouring a little girl’s appeal to order.

            The assistant’s polite smile becomes something akin to amusement with more energy than before.

            “Can we have four cheeseburger meals and a happy meal, please?” Holly requests politely, giving the assistant a beaming grin.

            “Sure, sweety,” the boy tells her. “And what drinks would you like with your meals?”He adds, pressing some buttons in his cash till.

            Lucius looks at Holly expectantly.

            “Two diet cokes and two lemonades, please,” Holly says with a nod. “Can I – I – ”

            To Lucius's surprise, she falters and looks at him uncertainly.

            “What is it?”

            “Can I get a milkshake, please?” She gives him a pleading look.

            With a start, he realises it is the only request she has made all day, apart from asking for a skipping rope.

            “Oma used to treat me and H – we used to get milkshakes.”

            “Of course,” he agrees, falling into the same trap that made Narcissa agree to stay. This little Snape could have them twisted around her fingers if she truly wanted. He ignores the slip like he usually does when she almost mentions Potter. “We’ll all have milkshakes.”

            Might as well drown in them – whatever milkshakes are.

            Beaming, she turns back to the assistant, who has frozen, waiting for them to finish.

            “Five milkshakes, please. Two chocolate and three strawberry shakes. The ice cream machine is working, isn’t it?” she tacks on uncertainly.

            “It is, sweety,” the boy reassures her. “Your order will be ready in five minutes.”

            Lucius pays the paltry amount the boy requests, instructing him to keep the change, and moves to the side. It is closer to ten minutes when Lucius moves back to the counter. He lets Holly carry the one with the … burgers and fries. The burgers are some sort of round bun wrapped in paper, whilst the fries, thinly sliced pieces of fried potatoes, are spilling out of a thin cardboard type thing. He carries a tray of drinks, whatever Holly ordered for them: they come in tall cups made of cards or something. Food that is wrapped in paper. The mind boggles!

            If they were not in the vicinity of so many muggles, Lucius would have whipped out his wand and levitated both trays towards the table where the others were waiting for them.

            He places his tray on the wobbly table first before reaching down to get the other from Holly.

            Once they are seated, the adults and Draco look at each other uncertainly whilst Holly picks up the square box with her… a Happy meal.

            “Is that what we’re eating?” Draco asks with a disgusted look at the round things wrapped in paper.

            They watched as she opened her colourful box and pulled out her small burger, a smaller packet of fries, a chocolate chip cookie wrapped in some sort of transparent - … plastic paper, and a small bottle of chocolate milk.

            She opens the wrapper of her burger and eats it with great enjoyment.

            Narcissa is the first one to open her burger and display it for all to see: it is a sloppy sandwich, squashed, but with some sort of orange cheese oozing out.

            “What’s the meat?” Lucius asks though the word meat would be a questionable term.

            “Beef,” Holly answers before taking her next bite.

            Then, seeing as no one is eating, she puts down the rest of the burger.

“If you don’t want to try it, then we can go back,” she says a little forlornly.

The adults all exchange glances; only Draco looks eager at the announcement.

“Let’s do that,” he exclaims impatiently.

“Sit down, Draco,” Lucius says sharply. He hates to see the look of disappointment on Holly’s face. He is a soft touch when it comes to disappointing looks: it is how Draco managed to get his way most of the time, less so now that he has lost the cuteness of childhood. Teenage petulance has made Lucius more immune to his son’s pleading expressions.

Holly looks at Draco with wariness. “You’re being a baby, though.”

“I – What? I am not!” Draco splutters.

“I think you’ll like it,” she says, picking up her burger. “You’re just close-minded.”

“I am not close-minded,” he denies indignantly.

“Spoiled,” she taunts him.

Lucius and Narcissa exchange amused glances. Holly has been using this trick all afternoon, fooling the boy into getting more muggle things. Draco thinks he is above all this, but their son will be shocked when he realises how many bags he will find in his bedroom once they sort through everything at home.

Draco pulls his burger towards him and unwraps it with a wrinkled nose. Lucius and Severus slowly do the same, hiding their expressions.

“I bet you’ll like it once you stop acting like a baby,” she calmly pulls out her fries and chomps down on them, and Lucius decides to take one of them as well. He cautiously nibbles on the end: it is greasy, salty and crispy, but he is surprised at how good it actually tastes. With more confidence, he bites it in half, chewing thoughtfully.

“Where’s the knife and fork?” Draco sneers.

“It’s like a sandwich, Draco,” Holly points out with a laugh. “You don’t eat a sandwich with a knife and fork.”

Draco flushes and scowls, looking down at the burger with trepidation.

“What do you bet?”

“What?” Holly asks, surprised, a fry halfway to her mouth.

Lucius is absently consuming his own. He nudges Narcissa and offers her one. She looks at him with a questioning look, ignoring her unwrapped burger. He waves the fries at her, and she warily takes one, nibbling with the same apprehension Lucius had seconds ago.

“You said you bet I like it,” Draco scoffs. “What’s the bet?”

Holly smiles at him like she has a secret.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll ride your Nimbus with you,” she eventually announces after a thoughtful expression fades from her face.

They all look at her in astonishment.

“You’re afraid of heights,” Draco points out.

“You’ll like the burger, so I’m not worried.”

Lucius smirks at her confidence. He decides to wait for Draco to try the burger; in the meantime, he happily works on his fries. Narcissa has started on her own, overcoming her initial resistance.

“It’s good with sauce,” Holly says, looking at Lucius and Narcissa with a gentler smile than she gives Draco.

She pushes several little tubs in their direction; she grabbed them and dumped them on their tray whilst waiting for the rest of the orders.

Lucius reads each one carefully – ketchup, barbecue, sweet and sour.

Narcissa delicately opens each little tub and dips the end of her fry into the red one first. Lucius does the same. The ketchup is good, a little tangy. He tries the sweet and sour one next and decides he likes this better but tries the brown barbecue anyway. It is sweet as well but has a smoky flavour. He still likes the sweet and sour sauce the most and pulls it towards him. Narcissa sticks with ketchup.

Severus looks at them both as if he does not know whether to be amused or disgusted. Lucius ignores his friend and turns back to the entertainment of Holly teasing Draco. He is preparing to take a bite out of his burger, holding it in his hand as if it were a Blast-Ended Skrewt. He scrunches up his face, reminding Lucius of when he was concentrating on filling his nappy as a toddler.

“Well?” Holly asks.

Draco has taken his first bite and is chewing with a grimace. There is red sauce smeared on his lip. He swallows and glares at Holly but darts another look at the burger.

“I like it,” he admits grudgingly as if confessing to murder.

Holly bursts out into giggles.

“I won the bet,” she announces happily, reaching for the small cup of her chocolate milkshake.

Lucius decides to pull the strawberry towards himself. Copying her, he picks up two straws, unwraps the paper, sticks it in the lid of the milkshake and hands it to Narcissa before taking one himself.

“What do you want me to do?” He gives her a wary look.

“I haven’t decided yet,” she tells him unconcernedly. “I’ll think of something.”

Draco opens his mouth to protest.

“You should have set some conditions before you agreed,” she points out, biting into her burger with a happy smile.

Lucius chuckles. Clever little girl. He sees the proud look Severus hides behind his cup of black liquid – coke.

“What drinks did you get us?” Narcissa enquires, looking curiously. “Is the black one coffee?”

“Diet Coke and Lemonade,” Lucius dutifully repeats.

“Why diet?” Narcissa asks.

Holly shrugs.

“Oma always asks for diet, so that’s what I got.”

No one at the table showed any sign of noticing her slip of the tongue, or, if they did, they pretended not to.

“What does a diet coke mean?”

“It means there’s no sugar in it.”

Severus sips it after taking the lid off completely.

“It’s sweet,” he grimaces.

“Regular Coke has more sugar,” Holly answers, but without the same warmth she would have if she were talking to Lucius or Narcissa.

“Why does it have bubbles?” Lucius asks to cover up the awkward moment.

“Gas,” Holly shrugs again. “It makes it fizzy and sparkly.”

Mimicking Severus, he decides to take the lid off the black drink and tries it. He has to stop rubbing his nose when he feels like bubbles are swimming up his nostril. Narcissa tries a sip from the same cup as Lucius and then tries the lemonade, preferring it, so she takes several more delicate sips. Draco tries both as well. From his expression, Lucius can see that his son is pleasantly surprised. However, he enjoyed the chocolate milkshake. Looking at his strawberry, Lucius feels it is nothing more than melted strawberry ice cream. This realisation does not stop him from slurping the straw, to his guilty pleasure.

Muggle food has undoubtedly exceeded his expectations, though why they need bubbly drinks, he is not sure. It is not like this is champagne.

He exchanges a glance with Narcissa once more before they decide to tackle their… cheeseburger.

Holly has the humility not to gloat when Draco asks for another burger. Lucius and Narcissa also go back for more crispy, salty fries.

When they finally get home, Lucius immediately heads for the kitchens to summon Sorrelly, the Kitchen Elf, to recreate the fries.

ooOoo

Severus does not have his semi-planned talk with Holly until the next day. He has been floundering since the first letter from Tobias, who has also been sending him letters demanding to bring over his granddaughter – how does he still manage to get an owl, and why is Lucius allowing it to come through?

             He was desperate to meet his daughter and, if asked, could not explain why - given he has never liked children. Yet, from the moment Tobias confirmed knowledge of his child, Severus has been driven by the need to bring her home. To him.

             Holly, on the other hand, is content to ignore his very existence. Yesterday, in the muggle world, was the closest he had come to being acknowledged: she had given thought to whether he would like the same foods as Lucius and Narcissa. He considers this a step in the right direction and is tentatively hopeful that this conversation will have a positive outcome.

             For the sake of consistency, Lucius has offered the same room he uses to reprimand Draco on some occasions: they have flippantly dubbed it the “Discipline Room”.

             He takes a deep breath as he waits for Holly to arrive. Narcissa will be accompanying her. She might be younger than his students at Hogwarts but needs to be given the same guidelines and rules as them. He needs to lay out strict consequences – not that she seems to be a rule-breaker: she is pretty well behaved, he thinks proudly.

             He shuts down the other voice in his head that tells him he has had no part in her upbringing to be proud of that.

             He gets up and paces, waiting for Holly’s arrival. He needs this… encounter to go well. He idly glances at Lucius's books in the Discipline Room, holding back a snort as he sees an entire shelf lined with Lockhart books.

             A soft chime alerts him that there’s someone outside, and the door handle is depressed within seconds.

             Narcissa enters first, beckoning Holly through. His daughter steps through with a curious smile, which immediately disappears when she lays eyes on him.

             “I think there’s a talk overdue,” Narcissa tells Holly gently, pushing her further into the room. Holly gives her a betrayed look until the door closes firmly as she leaves.

ooOoo

Lucius is sitting in his study, staring absently at the decorative crystal ball he uses as a parchment weight. There is the shadow of an Ouroboros inside, a snake eating its tail.

             The door to his study opens, and Narcissa enters. She is the only one who can walk in without knocking and not be chastised for it. It is a good thing Lucius has always been a loyal husband.

             “How may I help you this evening, my darling wife?”

             Narcissa arches a brow at him.

             “I am here for the same reason as you, my meddlesome husband. We need to know how badly Severus needs our support. Holly will be ready to take her OWLs if we wait for him to come out of his pool of self-pity.”

             Lucius smirks at the possibly accurate assessment of Severus’ character. The Potions Master does not handle personal rejection well.

             “How did she react?” he asks.

             “From the brief look I got before I closed the door in her face? As if I had wrung Artemis’s neck in front of her.”

             Narcissa walks around his desk as Lucius lifts his arms welcomingly, allowing her to sit on his lap. She wriggles her bottom, deliberately, to ostensibly find a comfortable position on his thighs. Lucius holds back a groan.

             Bringing out her wand, she points at the crystal ball and gives him a questioning look. She is asking for his password.

             With a looking of meaning, he whispers in her ear, “I am your Echo.”

             He knows she has understood his reference by the searing glance she sends over her shoulders. She taps the centre of the Ouroboros and repeats it in a clear voice.

             Severus’ voice comes through as vibrant as if he were in the same room. Narcissa leans back against his chest and encloses his arms around her waist.

             “You cannot avoid me forever,” their friend is saying.

             They settle in to listen, telling themselves they are doing this for Severus and Holly.

ooOoo

Holly whips her head to glare at him when it is clear the door won’t open again. She rattles the door handle, but Severus knows Narcissa has spelled it shut, so only he can open it with a spell of his own.

             “You cannot avoid me forever,” Severus begins quietly.

             She does not speak. With her back against the door, she sits cross-legged on the floor, ignoring the chairs that Severus has set for them both.

             Severus debates whether to sit on the floor across from her or take his original seat, deciding, in the end, for the latter. He is her father, and she will accept his position.

             “We’re not leaving this room until we’ve resolved the tension between us,” he says into her stubborn silence.

             She draws her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around her shins, resting her chin on her knees and staring at him unnervingly.

             “You cannot ignore me forever, child,” he continues with more snap in his voice. He takes a deep breath, sighing and leaning forward in his chair.

             “I’m going to explain a few things to help you understand. I’m not sure what your mother or grandmother told you,” Severus declares. “I never realised your mother gave birth to you. My father told me he received some pictures of you when you were born but never forwarded them to me. If I had known about you, I would have come for you sooner.”

             She changes position, letting go of her legs and sitting cross-legged once again. He has her attention, at least, and feeling bolstered by this, he resumes.

             “I admit, your mother and I didn’t part on the best of terms at the end of our relationship. I may have said some hurtful things to her, and I regret every single one of them,” Severus assures her.

             At the time, he really meant them. To be perfectly frank, once Jasmine stopped sending her letters begging to get back together, he never gave her another thought. He only regrets that Jasmine used his last words to hurt his daughter. He hates her for this, but cannot let that show, not when his relationship with his daughter is already so fragile.

For the first time since she entered the room, Holly responds.

             “Are you a liar?” she asks in a trembling voice. He can’t tell if she is upset or angry.

            “Pardon?” He is confused by the question. Has she sensed his evasion?

             She gets up from the floor and walks to the chair across from Severus.

             “You want me to trust you?”

             “Yes,” he nods, trying not to show his eagerness.

             She sits cross-legged in the chair, placing her hands on her ankles and pulling them closer to her body.

             “So, if I ask you some questions, you’ll tell the truth? No lying?”

ooOoo

Narcissa tenses against Lucius; his arms tighten in response.

             Be careful, my friend, Lucius warns the Potions Master silently.

ooOoo

“I won’t lie,” Severus promises solemnly, hoping it does not backfire on him.

             “Mamma said you called her a bed-hopping slut. Did she lie?”

             Severus cannot hold back the flinch at those words. She pronounces them calmly, but there is a fierceness in her eyes.

             “No,” he says remorsefully. “She didn’t lie. But… I regret it.”

             “She said she told you she was pregnant. Did Mamma lie?”

             “No. I’m sorry I didn’t believe her.”               

             She ignores his words of regret and looks at him ferociously.

             “She told me she sent you loads of letters asking to talk to you. Did Mamma lie?”

             “No.”

             “She said you never replied to a single letter. Did Mamma lie?”

             “No.”

             “She tried to go to your dad, and he sent her away. Did she lie?”

             Each negative answer was drowning any chance of repairing his relationship with his daughter. Jasmine has done a thorough job of ensuring his daughter hated him forever.

             “No,” he replies heavily.

             “She said she loved you. Did you love her?”

             Severus finds he cannot look at her when he shakes his head negatively.

             “She loved you more than she loved me,” Holly whispers with a trembling chin, the weight of what she’s revealing so heavy it almost saps her strength. “She told me that. She said I was a mistake that should never have happened.”

ooOoo

Lucius can feel Narcissa’s upset at those words. They had tried so long to conceive that they were grateful for Draco’s birth. He can feel his wife’s anger that Jasmine took the precious gift of a child and trampled over it like a Lethifold smothering a victim.

             He kisses her shoulder compassionately. It does not quell her trembling.

ooOoo

“She should not have said that to you,” Severus says as calmly as he can. If Jasmine were not already dead, he would have strangled the life out of her.

             Holly shrugs. “She only told the truth.”

             “No, no,” Severus jerks up, reaching out as if to draw her into an embrace that tastes of longing and fondness, but Holly recoils, inhaling sharply. “I am here for you. I am here for you, now.”

             He is hurt when she pushes him away.

             “I don’t need you.” Her words are measured to upset him. “I don’t-” A sob breaks her whisper.

             “You do,” he insists. The ache in his heart makes his temper rise.

ooOoo

“He’s going to lose his temper,” Narcissa snarls.

             Lucius does not argue with her about that.

ooOoo

“Why?”

             “I am your father,” Severus tempers his voice. “You will always need me.”

             “You’re not my father! I’ll never need you!”

Tears furrow her cheeks red with anger: she feels powerless, facing an adult she doesn’t know and who can’t understand her.

“If it were not for me, you would still be in the care home,” Severus says through gritted teeth. He is practically looming over her – not that she is intimidated.

             “Am I supposed to be grateful that you remembered me after nine years?”

             “I spent weeks looking for you the moment I found out about you!”

             “I didn’t ask you to do that,” she snaps back.

ooOoo

Lucius grunts as Narcissa accidentally elbows him as she scrambles to get off of him. He stands up, still holding her tightly.

             “Cissa, darling,” he pants, trying to keep hold of her. “We can’t interfere. They have to work this out between themselves.”

             Narcissa pushes against his arms, squirming desperately like a mother dragon protecting her eggs.

             “Severus doesn’t know how to handle a child. His people skills are worse than a troll’s. He will say something that will alienate her, and I need to get Holly out of that room before he says something he’ll regret.”

             Lucius knows that if he wants to sleep in the same bed as his wife tonight, he must refrain from pointing out it was her idea in the first place for Severus to have a frank discussion with his daughter to set boundaries and resolve any issues.

             Bracing himself, he lifts her off her feet and pushes her against the side of the desk. He must also refrain from pointing out how turned on he is by her body writhing against his.

ooOoo

“You are here now, and here you will stay,” Severus growls. “I am the only family you have left.”

She leaps to her feet, standing on her chair, forcing him to step back.

“You’re not my family!” Holly yells.

“You will do as I say,” Severus hisses back at her. “I will no longer tolerate your sullenness. You will no longer ignore me. You will speak to me in a civilised manner.”

“Or what?” she challenges.

“Or you will suffer the consequences,” he replies. “And believe me, child, you do not want to cross me.”

“I hate you,” she spits at him venomously.

Severus hides the pain the words elicit.

“You still have to obey me. After all, legally, I am your father,” he sneers, not letting her see how her words affected him.

“You’re not my father. You’re just a sperm donor – You’re my warden.”

He freezes as he hears those words.

ooOoo

They halt as they hear Holly’s words. They both expected Severus to say something atrocious that would upset her but did not think of the horrible things his daughter could say to distress him.

            The honesty of a child can often wound a parent more effectively than a well-placed Crucio.