𝘼 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙄𝙣 𝙇𝙞𝙛𝙚 //𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦

Chapter One

Rain lashed the red brick exterior of the Granger-Malfoy residence, falling in sheets in the late February storm. The residents inside didn’t mind; couldn’t even hear the sound of the weather. Instead, the shrieks of children, sounds of laughter, and hum of conversation reigned supreme.

It was the 28th of February, and it was little Leo Malfoy’s first birthday.

Gathered to celebrate were his best friends and unofficial cousins: Hazel Longbottom, Apollo and Juno Weasley, and James Potter. The rest of the party was made up of all of his parents’ friends, who had insisted on bringing him lavish, over-the-top presents in an attempt to one-up each other (a time-honored tradition that was started at Apollo’s first birthday four months earlier, and continued at Hazel’s first birthday last month). His three grandparents, not to be outdone, had also piled mountains of presents for their first grandchild on the kitchen table, which groaned under the weight of all the wrapped boxes.

The guest of honor sat in his highchair, slapping his palms against the tray excitedly as Hermione carried a small cake over to him, Draco signalling to the others with his hands to begin singing.

Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday to you,
Happy Birthday, dear Leo,
Happy Birthday to you!

“Happy birthday, sweet boy,” Hermione said, placing the cake in front of her son and dropping a kiss on his head. She stepped back, reaching up to grasp Draco’s arms as they wrapped around her shoulders from behind, his face burying itself in her curls. The pair looked tearily at their son, who had changed their lives in every imaginable way.

The past year had been made up of sleepless nights, nappy changes, drooly baby smiles, and too many firsts to count: first smile, first laugh, first time sitting up, first crawl across the room to Draco as Hermione cheered him on; first word (“Muh!” to his mummy); first high fever that had Draco and Hermione alternating shifts in the nursery all night, carefully recording potion doses and temperatures and cooling charms; first major argument between Draco and Hermione since they had been married—I don’t know why he’s crying! Yes, of course I fed him! Well then you let him latch onto your nipple and give it a go if you’re so sure—followed by their first round of make-up sex and sincere apologies the next day; first toddling steps of their baby boy back and forth between the two of them as they sat on the floor of the library, tears streaming down both of their faces.

A tear trailed down Hermione’s cheek now as she watched Leo enthusiastically dig into the cake she had made especially for him, grinning up at her through crumbs and frosting, each hand clenched tightly around a fistful of the sugary treat.

“Muh?” he asked uncertainly.

“It’s okay, love,” she responded, feeling Draco squeeze her tighter. “Mummy is just feeling sentimental.”

“Daddy is too,” Draco’s voice said near her ear, followed by a gentle kiss. “Our baby’s not a baby anymore.”

“Da,” Leo agreed, returning his attention to the cake.

Poppy the house elf cut and served pieces of a matching, larger cake to the rest of the guests, and they all gathered in the kitchen around Leo, eating cake and sipping warm butterbeer.

Ron and Luna sat next to one another, their children on their laps. Almost four-year-old Juno dug into Ron’s piece of cake, offering one bite up to her father for every five bites she ate. Ron looked longingly at the cake slice, but said nothing. Apollo sat chest to chest with Luna, legs resting on either side of her hips as he snored softly, red hair mussed and chubby face smushed into his mother’s cleavage. Ron looked longingly at that, as well.