Potter

Epilogue : Part 5/7

July 2008

"I'll apparate our luggage home, then come back for the two of you. Will you be okay here?" Draco's voice was soft, arm sliding around my waist to pull me closer even as he said he had to go.

"We'll be fine," I promised, leaning into his warmth happily, sighing as his arms wrapped around me. "Just be careful when you get back. We are in a muggle neighborhood, you know."

"As you've reminded me every day the past three weeks," he said, leaning forward to press his lips lightly to mine before he stepped away. I held my son's small hand in my own now, though his eyes wandered over the streets around us, mostly empty with the exception of a few people taking advantage of the early summer air for a walk.

Regulus stayed in the doorway with me as Draco moved to the apparition point, an old oak tree that towered over the lawn of our American house. The home itself was classic in style, a mirror image of most of the other houses that lounged on the private street. The insides were decorated in dark woods and warm golds and reds, Gryffindor touches that Draco had happily taken the credit for when he'd realized I'd started to tear up upon arriving.

It'd been a good three weeks. 

Draco glanced back once more before he departed, wiggling his fingers back at Regulus when the toddler waved enthusiastically before apparating with a sharp crack. Regulus turned to look up at me, grey eyes wide, dark hair a mess atop his head.

"He's coming back, right?" He asked, like he always did whenever either of us went anywhere, and I nodded, crouched down to eye level with my son. At three, Regulus was halfway to four feet and proud of every damn inch of it, his narrow chin always lifted high and his small shoulders squared.

"You know he's going to come back," I told him, running my fingers up his chest and tapping his small nose fondly. "He always does."

"Okay," he said, always easy to appease. "Can I play?"

"Just stay in the front yard," I told him, and he beamed– a grin full of white baby teeth, though he would swear one was just beginning to wiggle. He leant forward to peck my cheek sweetly before bounding down the porch steps, small legs propelling him onto the grass and to the swing that hung from one of the other trees. Since he'd had to leave his broomstick at home, it was the best thing in its place.

Regulus, to both my pride and motherly concern, was a natural-born flyer, something he undeniably inherited from his father. Since his first broomstick at two and a half, Regulus had been vying for the sky, trying to get as high up into the air as he could before Draco and I noticed and insisted he come back down before he fell.

Draco was hoping he'd be a seeker. Blaise had his galleons set on chaser. I was absolutely sure he was going to be a keeper, due to his adoration for his Uncle Ron(much to Draco's ire) and his ability to catch most of whatever else the rest of his cousins and family threw around. As one of the calmer kids– and one of the oldest– he took his role very seriously as a pacifist and peace maker, only managing to get a little bossy on a particularly rough day.

"Mum look! There's a dog!"

I had just enough time to shake myself from my thoughts to see him hop off his swing and run for a walking couple, the red fur of their dog shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. I swore quietly, then darted after him. By the time I'd arrived at the sidewalk Regulus was on his knees, laughing madly as the golden retriever licked at his face.

"I'm so sorry," I said, forcing down the lump in my throat to smile at the couple I'd been trying to dart around since we'd arrived. "We don't see many dogs at home."