His Veela Heritage by RiverWriter

chapter 31

Outtake (Approximately Eight Months Post-Epilogue)

It was day four of the worst week of Draco's life. His youngest had been wrapped around him like Devil's Snare for at least the last two of those days. He couldn't actually remember the last time she'd allowed him to put her down.

For that matter, he didn't remember the last time he'd had a shirt on- he was fairly sure he'd given up on them sometime in the middle of day one when he realized they were only going to continue to get soiled and was now only wearing a pair of light linen trousers that were surely in desperate need of laundering. He did know that he hadn't had the opportunity to properly bathe for the entirety of this ordeal thus far. The man he'd been before he'd had children would be appalled.

Effie had been sent to the Manor where she was probably bored out of her mind and pestering the other elves for something to do. She was used to having her own family of six to care for and would almost certainly find a way to make them subtly pay for the indignity of being sent away for months after this was over. But while most wizarding diseases had no effect on elves, dragon pox was actually more dangerous for them than it was for humans. So, the moment Hermione had discovered a telltale green spot on her arm she'd given their faithful elf an airtight order to go to Wiltshire and not return until called by herself or Draco.

They'd been preparing to send the children to their grandparents as well when they, almost simultaneously, all began to exhibit symptoms. So, they'd battened down the hatches and settled in for the duration. Which meant that a pregnant Hermione and the four kids hunkered down in the master bed and he was left to play nursemaid. That had been eighty two hours ago.

Despite being the only one not to exhibit any symptoms, Draco was no longer convinced he was going to make it out of this alive.

If it had just been Carina, Alcyone and Hermione, he was sure things would have been fine. Carina, while normally somewhat of a drama queen like the grandmother she so resembled, was actually a very good patient. She just curled up on one side of their bed with the stuffed dragon Teddy had given her at birth and a stack of books. At nearly nine she was already vain enough to ask for his help regularly applying the potion that would keep the pox from permanently maring her fair skin, and in keeping her curly hair neatly plaited. But those weren't exactly the kind of requests he begrudged. He was actually relishing a bit in fussing over her, she was quickly getting too old to regularly allow for that kind of attention from her parents.

And his sweet Alcyone. All she seemed to want was him, to cling to him and be able to hear the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear. True, it had gotten rather tiring, having a feverish little body wrapped around him for so long, but it wasn't a comfort he was going to deny her. She had also quietly requested: "wings please, Daddy," while looking up at him with her mother's brown eyes, about twenty-four hours ago, which was no problem. He could maintain his transformation effortlessly these days, but he was so tired he kept forgetting about his damnable wings and bumping into things with them. Last time he'd been so startled he'd stubbed his toe and it had bloody well hurt! Still, that was fine, it had made his little girl giggle.

Then there was Hermione, who steadfastly refused to ask for anything at all. He was fully convinced that: "I'm fine, Draco," were the most maddening words in the English language. He could tell through their bond if she was suddenly in pain or something truly alarming, but despite how familiar he was with her emotions, he still couldn't read her mind.

He'd stupidly taught her occlumency and she'd kill him (possibly literally) if she felt him trying to sneak into her mind. So, he needed her to tell him if she prefered soup, or a sandwich, or both for lunch. Or about any more of several dozen choices he'd been forced to make for her over the past days. But she was stubborn. She just kept telling him to take care of the kids and she was fine with whatever he could manage. It was all he could do not to growl at her that of course he was going to take care of their children, but he would appreciate it if she would allow him to dote on his pregnant wife too.