Being a dad fucking sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my children and if anyone tried to touch even a hair on their perfectly crafted heads I would shove my hand down their throat and rip their intestines out. That’s actually the fun part of being a dad. The day Scorpius was born I was granted full immunity for my “violent” tendencies. And when Ella was born, murder was no longer considered “wrong” if done so for her sake. Taking care of my children, providing for them, and loving them is not the issue I have with parenthood. It’s other parents that I have an issue with.
Hogwarts decided they wanted parents to be more hands on. And by decided I mean, ever since Voldemort’s bald headed ass did his whole killing thing, parents started to call the school out for not being transparent enough with what was taking place on school grounds. Apparently enlisting a bunch of kids to fight in a war (and having thousands of them die) really does a number on your reputation. Shocking. So now, twice a month, I get to partake in something called “PTA.” I don’t know what that acronym stands for and I don’t care enough to find out.
The meetings weren’t bad at first. There was always food and Theo and Blaise would never come empty handed. It did cause a few fights with my lovely wife since she would smell firewhiskey on my breath when I’d come home. At first she thought I was skipping out to go to the pub but that ended once I started coming back with notes on what was discussed.
Meeting 4:
Longbottoms want to donate questionable herbs to school.
Lovegood thinks a gnargle monitor should be implemented (whatever the hell that means).
The notes continued to be just as boring but they made my wife happy so I continued to take them. The meetings however got even worse. The food became shit and I mean shit. The elves were freed by some know-it-all do gooder (my wife) so Hagrid and some fourth years have been in charge of the kitchens. I mean good for the elves and their freedom but what about me? If I’m expected to sit in this room and listen to these people moan and groan about everything under the moon, I’d at least like some food that doesn’t taste like it was freshly shot out of a grindylow’s ass.
“I have been chewing on this same piece of meat for the last fifteen minutes,” Theo says with a disgusted look on his face.
“Why don’t you spit it out?” I ask.
A smirk appears on his face. “Spitters are quitters.” He winks.
“Don’t ever say that to me again,” I reply before harshly smacking him in the stomach.
“Hey! I could’ve choked!”
“Good.”
“Will you two ever grow up?” Daphne asks as she joins us.
“I don’t know, Daph. Will you ever get better taste in men?” I ask, fully aware that Blaise is right behind me.
“Screw you,” Blaise scoffs.
“Sorry mate.” I hold my hand up and flash him my wedding band. “I don’t think the missus would be too fond of that.”
“Alright everyone!” Helen, the self appointed leader of these meetings, shouts. “We are going to get started so please take a seat.”
It’s very clear who wants to be here and who was forced to. The ones who immediately sit and have a smile plastered on their face are the individuals who have this day marked off on their calendar with a giant red heart next to it. And the ones who drag their feet and are scanning the room for the nearest exit are the ones who wake up, realize what day it is and consider taking a field trip up to the astronomy tower so they can jump off of it.
If I hit the ground at just the right angle, it would be a painless and almost instant death.
“Today we have some rather… concerning topics to discuss,” Helen sighs.
“Oh no, there wasn’t another pixie breakout was there?” One of the mothers asks, her voice full of concern.
Helen shakes her head. “No pixies.”
“Then what is it?”
“The students were given the opportunity to decide what their holiday event would be. They had the option of a dinner, a house tournament or a dance. I got the results this morning and they have all voted on… the dance.” Gasps fill the room the second the word falls from her lips.
You have got to be fucking kidding me. A dance? They’re acting like they were just told that their children were murdered in cold blood.
All of the mothers and even a few of the fathers continue with the discussion while I decide to zone out and scribble down my notes for Granger.
Meeting 11:
Dancing is now the fourth unforgivable. Very possible it’s worse than the killing curse.
“… he wanted to ask Ella.” I instantly tune in when I hear my daughter’s name.
“What about Ella?” I ask. The entire group goes silent as they stare at me. God they all look so stupid. Sure, this is the first time I’ve spoken during one of these things but what did they expect? If you say my daughter’s name, I’m going to say something. When no one responds I say, “I’ll ask once more.” My tone stern. “What about Ella?”
“Wesley said that his son was talking about asking her to the dance,” a familiar voice says. Without even looking over my shoulder I know who it is.
“Thank you for the clarification, freckles.”
“Anytime, dickhead,” Ginny smirks as she takes the seat to my left.
“Wesley,” I say.
“Hmm?”
“Tell your son to shove his wand up his–”
“Mr. Granger-Malfoy.” Helen interjects. “Please, rule number 3.”
As if these meetings weren’t bad enough, they handed out a rule book the second week. And one of the rules is we aren’t allowed to “threaten” any children or parents. I wouldn’t consider telling a parent to tell their kid to impale themselves with their wand as a threat but apparently I have a slightly skewed idea of what a threat is. Either way though, I don’t care. No one is asking my daughter to a dance so screw the rules.
“Let me try that again,” I say with a tight lipped smile. “Wesley, please inform your slimy son that if he so much as breathes the same air as my daughter, I will hang him from the top of the owlery by his toes, cover him in earthworms and watch as the owls slowly eat him alive.”
Horrified looks are shot my way by everyone except Blaise, Theo and Daphne, who are all trying their best to suppress their laughter. I can tell Ginny wants to laugh too but she’s much better at masking it then the other dimwits.
Wesley gulps. “You’re… you’re joking, right?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I ask.
“No, you don’t.”
“Good, because I’m not.”
The remainder of the meeting was rather peaceful. I think everyone was too afraid to discuss the dance after my, very respectful and gentle, warning to Wesley. And since the dance was the most pressing issue tonight, there seemed to be very little left to talk about. I expected Granger to be in bed by the time I returned home but I also wasn’t surprised when she was still wide awake.
“How was it?” she asks as I join her on the couch.
“I think you should expect a letter from Helen in the morning.”
Granger puts her book down and raises a brow. “What did you do this time?”
“Why am I always the one who did something wrong?”
“Well, did you?”
“Yes.”
“Draco,” she groans.
“I love it when you say my name.” I smirk.
“Don’t be flirtatious right now.”
“You know it’s my default setting when it comes to you.”
“Switch settings then and tell me what you did.”
Rolling my eyes I take a deep breath and quickly say, “I threatened to hang a child by his toes and have him eaten alive by owls.”
“Come again?”
“That would involve me coming a first time, love.” Granger harshly smacks my arm. “Ow! Add abusive partner to your long list of skills,” I say as I run my arm and pretend to be in pain.
“Repeat what you just said but at a normal rate so I can actually understand you, you insufferable prat,” she commands.
“Fine,” I groan. “I threatened to hang a child by his toes and have him eaten alive by owls,” I say slower this time.
Her eyes double in size. “Draco! You can’t do that!”
“Yes I can! And trust me, the kid deserves a far worse threat.”
“Oh yeah?” She crosses her arms. “And why’s that?”
“He intends to ask our daughter to the dance.”
“Dance? What dance?”
“The one that all of the students voted to have for the holiday,” I tell her as I get up and head into the kitchen.
“Would it be like the Yule ball?” she asks.
I shrug. “Probably.”
As in searching the fridge for something to eat, I hear faint footsteps slowly approaching me from behind. Closing the fridge door, I turn around and see Granger, who is smiling from ear to ear.
“Why is your face doing all that?” I ask.
“Ella’s first dance,” she says excitedly, her eyes lighting up. “I can’t believe it’s finally happening. She’s going to look so beautiful. I will have to go into town to get her a dress. Or maybe I can pull her from school one evening so she can pick it out herself.”
“I don’t know why you would do all of that. It’s not like she’s going.”
“Says who?”
“Me.”
“Is that so?”
I nod.
“Draco,” Granger sighs.
“You’re not changing my mind. Not about this.”
“Our daughter is going to go to plenty of dances and there will be boys who will ask her,” she explains.
“I’m well aware and she can enjoy all of that when she’s old enough.”
“She’s fifteen.”
“Exactly.”
“That’s the age most girls tend to start dating.”
I shake my head. “Not ours,” I reply before moving her out of the way and heading to our room.
“What age do you deem acceptable for our daughter to date then?” Granger asks as joins me in our room. “And don’t say something stupid like forty.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff as I unbutton my shirt. “Thirty-three will be just fine.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“You’re the second person to ask me that tonight and just like the first time, no. I’m not joking,” I say as I toss my shirt aside.
“She’s going to that dance, Draco.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Yes, she is.”
“No, Granger.”
“Yes, Malfoy.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Granger removes her dress, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes.”
It takes everything in me to hold her stare. “No,” I say once more.
She slowly pushes the strap of her bra off of her shoulder. “Yes,” she says as she pushes the other strap off and then unclasps it.
I clench my jaw. “You’re not playing fair, love.”
“Where’s the fun in playing fair?” She shrugs as she closes the distance between us. She places her hands on my bare chest and then slowly moves them down to the waistband of my trousers. “Our daughter is going to that dance,” Granger tells me as she unbuckles my belt.
“Fine, but she’s wearing a knitted jumper,” I reply as I grab her waist with one hand and tangle the other in her curls.
“She’s wearing a dress,” Granger whispers in my ear before kissing my neck. “And if a boy asks her, she’s allowed to say yes.”
Tugging on her hair to force her head back so that she’s looking at me again, I say, “You will be the death of me, Hermione.”
“I’ve heard that before.” She smiles. “Is that a yes then?”
“It’s a maybe.”
“I’ll take it. Besides, I’m positive I’ll get you to change your mind by the end of tonight,” she says before getting down on her knees.
Having kids isn’t always fun but Merlin, the act of making them is.
“What about this one?” Ella asks as she steps out of the dressing room.
“No,” I immediately say. “Try again.”
Ella looks over at Granger for help but receives none. “Try on the next one darling. You didn’t like that one much anyways.” Reluctantly, Ella slips back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.
“You know, you’re eventually going to have to say yes to one of them,” Granger tells me.
“And I will,” I reply. “When she shows me one that is more than a scrap of fabric.”
A few minutes later the curtains open up again and Ella steps out in a tight blue dress that barely reaches her midthigh.
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“Ugh!” She groans before yanking the curtains closed.
The next half hour or so goes the exact same. Ella steps out in a dress that makes me want to murder every elf and witch that played a role in creating the thing. I tell her no, she gets annoyed, groans and tries on another one.
After what felt like centuries, she finally steps out in one that doesn’t make me want to immediately gouge everyone’s eyes out. “I think it could be longer,” I begin, which earns an irritated expression from Ella. “But I will allow it.”
“Really?!” she asks.
“Do you like it?” I ask.
Ella nods excitedly.
“Do you want it?”
“Yes please.”
“Then I guess you should go change so we can buy the damn thing.”
A high pitched squeal escapes the back of her throat as she rushes towards me and wraps her arms around me tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she repeats. “I love you, dad.”
“I love you too, Ella,” I say as I hug her back.
“Can I also get the heels?” she asks, tightening her hug.
“Don’t push it.”
I have seen people die, I have been the reason people die, I have been tortured and been the torturer, and I saw the love of my life get murdered before my very eyes but nothing, and I mean nothing has hurt as much as seeing my daughter descend the steps in a dress. Everyone always warns you to cherish every moment because your kids will grow up right before your eyes. I always found that statement to be extremely moronic. Of course your kids grow up, that’s what humans tend to do. But now I understand.
It feels like it was just last week she was still death gripping my finger as we walked through the garden and now here she is in a beautiful dress looking like a full on adult. She also has makeup on which I don’t remember approving and of course, thanks to her mother, she has on heels, which I do remember not approving.
“Do I look pretty dad?” Ella asks.
What a ridiculous question. I would tell her that too but I can feel a lump forming in the back of my throat so all I manage to do is nod and smile in response. Holding my hand out for her, I help her down the last few steps and escort her through the corridor. It’s still strange being here sometimes but especially right now. I still remember walking these very halls and heading into my first school dance. I also remember the way Granger looked that night. I think even then I knew just how fucked I was when it came to her.
“Well look at you,” Granger says before pulling our daughter into a tight embrace. “You look absolutely beautiful, Ella.”
“She gets it from her mother,” I say, which causes her cheeks to turn a light shade of pink.
“I’m surprised you’re in such a good mood,” she says. “I assumed that once you saw the heels you would’ve thrown a fit.”
Grabbing her by the waist, I pull her closer to me, lean down and whisper in her ear, “Don’t take my calm demeanor as a sign that you got away with that, love. I have a feeling you’ll be spending some time making it up to me later tonight when we’re home.”
“Hmm,” she hums, trying her best to conceal her smirk. “I will do my very best to show you just how apologetic I am.”
—
Students quickly flood The Great Hall, each dressed in their finest threads. Ella promptly broke off from us as soon as she spotted her friends, all of whom are girls which makes me exceptionally happy. Like typical teenagers, the girls have grouped on one side of the hall while the boys gathered on the other. My dream for the separation to remain that way the entire night was quickly squashed when Helen (fucking hate that witch) stepped out onto the dance floor and demanded that the students pair up for the first dance of the evening.
As all of the kids began pairing off, my eyes remained trained on my daughter. A massive part of me was delighted to see no boys approaching her. But another part, a rather small part, was infuriated that none of these scrawny boys were asking my beautiful daughter to dance with them. Are they fucking blind? Is there something mentally wrong with them? Out of all of the girls at this bloody dance, my daughter is by far the most beautiful and they should be lined up begging for a chance to even speak to her.
“Perhaps you should give our daughter some room to breathe,” Granger suggests. “I think your bodyguard-like stare is scaring the boys off.”
“Good.”
“Draco,” she sighs as she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “It’s just an innocent dance. Don’t you want our daughter to have that experience?”
“I’ll dance with her.”
“Wonderful idea. Have fun dealing with an upset teenager then because Merlin knows she will not be thrilled that all of her friends got to dance with boys in their class while she was waltzing with her father.”
Granger makes a good point and I hate that. Ella and I used to dance together all the time. She used to turn the radio on and beg me to. And now dancing with me is something that she would be embarrassed and upset by? Being a father is not fun and I think I deserve compensation for false advertisement of the role.
“Give our daughter room to be a teenager and turn your focus to me instead,” Granger says as she turns my head to face her. Gods she is beautiful. “I never did get to dance with you at the Yule ball. Better late than never, right?”
I quirk a brow. “Mrs. Granger-Malfoy, are you asking me to dance with you?”
She nods. “If you wouldn’t mind?”
“Nothing would make me happier.” I hold my arm out and she wraps her hands around my bicep. As we make our way out onto the dance floor, memories from our time at Hogwarts begin replaying in my mind. It feels like it was centuries ago when we were students ourselves but at the same time, it feels like it was just yesterday.
“You’re still just as breathtaking as the first day I laid my eyes on you,” I tell her.
“You mean when I was the curly-haired bucktoothed know-it-all?” she teases.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. “You have always occupied a spot in my mind, whether I liked it or not. I think a part of me always knew that, one day, we would end up here.”
“In The Great Hall dancing?”
“Maybe not that specific,” I say, which earns a small laugh from her. “I just meant together. Before our first day of school, I had wished for something good to come out of my time here. At the time I thought that something good would be doing something that my father would finally be proud of but I ended up getting something far better. I got you. You are my something good, Hermione.”
Granger moves her hand to the back of my neck and meets my lips with hers and in that moment, I’m transported back in time. For those few seconds we are teenagers again, falling in love with one another for the first time, and it feels like my heart has exploded in my chest. Even after all this time, it still amazes me that I got this magnificent and brilliant woman to fall in love with me not only once but twice. I don’t know what I did to deserve a life and love like this.
“Ahem, I don’t mean to interrupt but I just thought you should know that Vince just asked Ella to dance with him,” Theo informs me.
“Vince?” I ask, my eyes scanning the room for Ella.
“Wesley’s son,” Theo explains. “There over there.” He points over to the other side of the room and my eyes immediately lock onto them. The muscle in my jaw tenses and my eyes narrow as I see the little twat’s hand on my daughter’s back.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Way to go, Theo,” Granger says.
Theo raises his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
“I think I might actually shoot the messenger actually.”
As the two of them continue to bicker, I head straight for my daughter. In just a few strides I close the gap and I find myself standing right in front of them.
“Dad,” Ella gasps, startled by my sudden appearance. “Erm, this is Vince. We were just about to dance.”
I think the fuck not. I’m going to break every bone in this kid’s hand if he doesn’t remove it from my daughter in the next five seconds. My hand is hovering over my back pocket, which has a small but still very sharp dagger in it.
“It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy-Granger,” the kid says as he holds his hand out for me to shake. When I don’t accept the gesture and just glare at him, he retracts his hand and clears his throat. “I hope it’s okay that I asked Ella to dance,” he says. “I-er-well-I think she’s really pretty and-”
“You think you’re good enough to dance with my daughter?” I ask.
“Dad!” Ella groans, clearly annoyed by my presence.
“Not at all sir,” Vince replies. “But I do think she’s the prettiest girl I have ever seen.”
“Is that so?”
He nods nervously. “I also think she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. She’s always answering every question in class and even correcting the professors. Other students find it annoying but I think it’s brilliant. I think she is brilliant.”
Shit. This kid is me. Not fully though. I was much taller at his age, much more attractive and I highly doubt this kid would ever win a fight but that look in his eyes when he glances at Ella is one I know too well. I know it because it’s the exact same way I would look at Granger. Am I really about to give this kid my blessing to dance with my daughter?
“Vince, that is your name, right?” I ask.
“Yes sir.”
“Hold your hand out again.” He does as instructed and this time I shake it. He winces slightly which is pathetic considering the fact that I barely grabbed it but I’ll overlook it for now. Yanking slightly, I pull him close enough so that only he can hear me when I say, “There’s a dagger in my back pocket but I wouldn’t even need to use that to paint these walls with your insides.” I hear him sharply inhale. “You may dance with my daughter but if I see your hand go any lower than the mid of her back, I will break every bone in your body and then I'll mend them just so I can break them all over again. Understand?”
“Y-yes.”
Releasing his hand, I straighten my posture and smile. “Good. Off you two go then. Enjoy your dance.”
Shortly after the two of them walk off I feel a pair of hands on my shoulders. “I think they look cute together,” Granger smiles.
To both of our surprise, I don’t reply with a snarky remark. I just remain silent and watch as Ella laughs as Vince miserably fails at dancing. I still hate the sight of her with a boy but the distant sound of her laughter makes up for it.
As Ella is showing Vince the steps, his hand slides down her back ever so slightly and he immediately meets my stare, his eyes full of terror.
“You threatened him, didn’t you?” Granger asks.
“Of course I did,” I smile proudly.