"In the library? Has he gone mad?" Draco paced the hallway with Severus in tow, occasionally stopping to cast a baleful look at the closed door, as if that would will it to open.

The room had been warded and silenced, and only Lucius, Hermione, and the two bossy crones, who had arrived just in the knick of time, had been permitted inside.

Severus smirked. "She is a bookworm. It's rather fitting."

The eldest Malfoy heir rolled his eyes. "Give off, Severus. Weren't you supposed to Floo Auntie 'Dromeda?"

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Draco would have thought it impossible for the man to turn a paler shade of white. Severus slunk against the wall and sighed. "Andromeda and I are currently having a difference of opinion."

"On you being an overbearing arse and her being a shrill twat?"

Severus cuffed him round the ear. "Respect your elders, boy. She's refused to keep house with me."

Draco chortled into his closed fist, a futile effort to stifle the sound, going by the glare shot in his direction. If he were being completely honest, Draco could't imagine how either one of them could bear to live with each other. Neither were the easiest to get along with, after all.

Severus had a tendency to lock himself in the nearest potions laboratory and not be seen for days, when he wasn't up to his arse in school children. Andromeda, on the other hand, always flitted to and fro - never staying for long in the same place. She wasn't flighty, but light of spirit in a way that Severus never could be.

In other words, Draco decided, it was a match made in Muggle Hell - despite their obvious mutual attraction. And going by the scene he'd inadvertently witnessed at Beltane, attraction was definitely not the problem. He'd drunk himself stupid in an attempt to forget the sight of his Auntie's legs wrapped around Severus. One would think that two people of their age and experience knew better than to frolic in the garden, of all places. He shuddered at the memory - clearly he hand't completely erased it. Oblivation was always an option.

"Should I Floo her then? And everyone else?"

Severus waved him off. "Fine. Just go. I'll wait here like a ninny." He settled in against the wall, wishing that he'd snagged one of the books before being unceremoniously tossed out of the room.

Or the whisky. If the ordeal lasted much longer, he thought he'd break in to Lucius' study for the decanters in the sideboard there. The would do.

If someone had told him five months ago that he'd be here, in Malfoy Manor, waiting on the Granger Know-It-All to birth the latest in a line of Malfoy twins, he'd have called the Healers in white coats immediately. It was preposterous. Completely, and utterly ridiculous to believe that those two of all people would end up happily ever after.

He supposed that it worked, somehow, and they fit together perfectly. He should have seen it, in the way Lucius cared for her after her return to Grimmauld Place. He'd never seen the wizard be so tender with anyone before, especially a witch, and that should have been evidence enough that there was more to it than companionship.

If he hadn't trailed Lucius in Diagon Alley that day, he wouldn't be here now. He wouldn't have forged, or in the case of Lucius', rekindled, a friendship that meant more to him than he was willing to admit. Frank and Alice wouldn't be on their way to recovery. The old fool would have called it Serendipity, and Severus had to grudgingly admit that the hand of fate had been at work.

It was entirely possible he'd already indulged in far too much whisky. He clunked his head against the wall once, then again for good measure. He always was soppy drunk.

"I made the calls." Draco sidled down the hall, grinning from ear to ear.

Severus looked up through his lashes at the man, all grown up, and affected his best lecture voice. "Bravo, Mr. Malfoy, you've mastered the Floo."

Draco's expression soured, and for a moment, he looked every bit the Pureblood Ponce he'd been during his school years. "'Dromeda says she'll come through once she finished putting her things away. Something about making room in your closet for her dresses."

Snape looked up, agog. "Pardon me?"

"And Potter said they'd be along tomorrow, him and the Weasleys. Bill and Fleur," he clarified. "Said it would give her a chance to recover. Madame Longbottom isn't so keen on waiting, though. She knitted some things, and said she needed to put on her good hat." He hoped it wasn't the one with the vultures, but imagined something equally vile.

Severus was still stuck on what he'd said earlier. "Andromeda is making room in my closets? For her clothing?"

Draco smirked. "Indeed she is. Apparently she's had a change of heart regarding your cohabitation."

"Such a bitch," he muttered, not unkindly. Part of him wondered how much of her little tantrum had been designed to get him out of the way for a few days so she could arrange things to her liking. Without the inevitable shouting that would have occurred had he been in residence.

Another niggling thought came, unbidden. Would she share his home as well as his Hogwarts' chambers? His thoughts were interrupted by the opening door, and Anika carrying a bundle of towels.

"Come, come. You must see them." She ushered them in the room before calling for Millie to come take away the soiled linens.

Obediently, he and Draco entered the dim library, to find Hermione and Lucius ensconced on the enlarged sofa. Two new tiny bundles were cradled between them, and both looked exhausted and, yet, elated.

Lucius beamed, proud as ever. "Meet our children. The newest Malfoys." His voice was soft, just above a murmur, and he beckoned them over with two fingers. "They're perfect."

Severus surveyed the scene, something unnamed inside him thrumming with a feeling not entirely unknown. The twins were beautiful, curled up against Hermione. Only their small faces and hair were visible, but he saw a blend of both Granger and Malfoy.

Fine blond hair, tiny noses, plump lips. Rosy complexion. "Congratulations," he finally managed.

Hermione smiled up at him, eyes shining with the renewed joy of new motherhood. "Meet your godchildren, Severus Snape. Hyperion Aeolus and Leda Antheia."

"My," his voice caught, "the honour is mine, Lady Malfoy." He bowed formally.

She grinned. "I rather think the opposite - would you like to hold them?" She tipped her chin down at the babes, swaddled tightly in their blankets.

He nodded silently, and Lucius' lips quirked into a half smile. "Here, take Leda first. And Draco, you must take Hyperion. Come."

Ever so gently, he pressed a baby into each of their waiting arms. Severus, unused to holding something so fragile and precious, stood awkwardly for a moment. He longed to reach his finger out and touch Leda's perfect nose, but stopped short.

"It's alright," Hermione coaxed quietly. "She won't break."

His chest swelled, and he ran the tip of one finger lightly down the soft, new skin. "You've done well, both of you."

Lucius chuckled. "Hermione did most of the work."

"Bollocks. You delivered them." She leaned up to press a kiss against the column of his throat. "Draco?"

The boy was enamoured with the new baby, cuddling him close and cooing. "Shh. We're planning all the things we'll do together."