𝔸𝕋𝕄𝕆𝕊ℙℍ𝔼ℝ𝔼

P

Usually, the view of The Burrow just beyond the horizon from the apparation point would make me calm down because Molly and Arthur Weasley are amazing but today was simply different. Sunday Roast was a once-a-month get together for family and friends when everyone would pile into the magically held together house and laugh, talk, and get drunk off our arses.

Except for this month, Ginerva Weasley was attending.

The pit in my stomach simply grew larger and larger as the house got bigger and bigger. I tightened my hold on James, who sat on my hip, fisting his chubby little hands into my hair. I felt Harry squeeze my hand that was interlaced with mine and I smiled.

I think back to the owl Molly sent us yesterday, begging for us to come to the Roast because I've dealt with Ginerva, she won't bother you or your family. Please, Draco, (her words, not mine) and, after a bit of persuading from Harry, I agreed.

I had been ready to deny Molly right out. If Ginerva was willing to throw hexes with James (an innocent two-year-old) in the room then Merlin knows what she would be willing to do with James and Teddy in the room.

I'd rather die than put my kids in danger.

But here I was, walking up to the acacia wood door, Harry's hand slipping out of my own so he could open the door, strutting through the door as if he lived there his entire life. I snorted at my thought before following him through, Teddy running into the kitchen where Andromeda always sat, drinking tea, mixing in Malt when she thought no one was watching.

"Harry, Draco!" I smile at Hermione Granger, now 26, as she ran up to meet us, baby rose cradled in her arms. Weasley was coming up beside her, wrapping an arm around Harry, pulling him into a hug as Hermione and I kissed each other's cheeks.

"Aunt 'Mione!" Hermione coos and hands Rose to her husband, pulling James into her arms with a sloppy kiss to his cheek, making the toddler giggle.

"Draco!" Molly was rushing out of the kitchen, throwing a kitchen towel to rest on her shoulder, her arms spread to pull me into a hug. I smiled widely at her, letting her pull me into one of those hugs that have you gasping for air when you pull away from how tight you were smushed together. None the less, my arms swung up to wrap around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Beside me, I hear Ronald mumbling something about being Molly's actual son and not being greeted like that. Harry chuckles before saying something along the lines of 'My mum likes my husband more than me' that has Molly reaching over her shoulder to grip the towel, swinging it to hit Harry with it. He chuckles, jumping out of the line of fire.

The door opens to reveal a tall, thin woman. Her nose is pointy with a chin to match, though they suited her perfectly. Her blonde hair reached her waist, half of it pulled into a ponytail in the back. Fly-aways framed her face and when her icy blue eyes met mine she smiled.

"Draco," She says with a smile. I grin right back.

"Mother," I respond.

Mother walked through the door and greets me with a large hug and kisses on both cheeks. She kisses Harry's cheek and demands that she see her youngest grandchild. Hermione smiles at Mother, who smiles right back, before passing James to her. Mother smiles at her grandson, who grins up at her, his little hands reaching up to take one of her blonde curls into his fist, Mother simply smiling down at him.

"What are they doing here," I don't need to turn around to identify who the voice comes from. Rolling my eyes, I turn to be met with Weaslette. Her arms are crossed over her chest, face clear with distaste. I sigh softly, grabbing James when Mother hands him to me.

"Molly, love, why don't I help you in the kitchen? I want to talk with Andy, too," Mother's eyes are glued onto Ginerva the entire time and I see Harry gently push her towards the kitchen to make sure she doesn't hex the ginger's breasts off.

"That's a brilliant idea, Mother, why don't you and Molly here go finish the roast a-and Hermione and I can set the table," I said, nodding quickly, sending a pair of, what I hoped was, pleading eyes at my husband, who nodded and led a very stiff Mother to the kitchen, her eyes locked on a still sulking Ginerva Weasley.

'Thank you,' I mouth at him as he suppresses a snort, turning around, keeping a hand on my mother's back, giving her no choice but to walk into the kitchen.

"Right, Charlie, would you mind holding James for a bit?" I turned around, the first person I saw being the tall, tan dragon-tamer. He smiled widely, his partner, Noah, at his side. Noah smiled at me and put their arms out for James. I smiled back at them and handed James to them, letting James babble about something or other.

Hermione smiled at me and a moment later found both of us in the dining room, setting the table for 17, plus two highchairs for James and Rose. I could feel the presence of my least-favorite Weasley before I even turned around.

"Yes, Ginerva?" I said, whipping imaginary dust on my pants, turning to be met with the scowling ginger. 

"Ginny, don't," Hermione said before Ginerva even opened her mouth, looking at her like a mother would look at a child after they drew on the walls with a sharpie.

Ginerva rolled her eyes before huffing and turning around, making her way back into the living room. I rolled my eyes and heard Hermione sigh.

Turning to Hermione, the brown-haired woman shook her head.

"Grown-arse woman," I say under my breath, Hermione snorting as we made our way back into the living room.