Perfect Storm

Chapter 26

 "Ivy, please go put your shoes on," Hermione pleaded around the hair grip in her mouth.

"I'm Ascella," the little ginger-haired girl replied with a huff.

"That trick didn't work on me when your Uncle George and Uncle Fred used to try it. It certainly isn't going to work with my own daughters. Shoes, now, Ivy."

The red hair darkened to black as Ivy stomped all the way to her room. Hermione transferred the hair grip from her teeth to the last rebellious lock of curls. She frowned when she spotted a streak of silver.

"The beginning of the end," Hermione muttered, gliding her wand over the hairs, bringing them back to her natural colour.

"So dramatic."

Hermione shot a glare at her husband as he leaned against the bathroom door frame, signature smirk in place.

"Easy for someone whose silver hair will never show to say," she grumbled. One final appraisal in the mirror... She looked like a woman in charge but wasn't quite feeling it yet. "Have I mentioned how much I dislike having my first day in office coincide with the first day of school?"

"I recall you mentioning it once or twice." Draco pushed away from the door and said, "Come along, Minister. The boys' trunks are ready to go."

"And you double-checked that Ascella didn't sneak into one again?" Hermione asked, joining Draco in the hall and starting for the stairs.

"My inspection turned up only school robes and questionably clean socks."

Hermione wrinkled her nose as Ivy thundered past, mismatched shoes on her feet. "Thank you, Ivy," she called as their daughter disappeared down the steps.

"Did she try the switch trick again?" Draco laughed.

"She still thinks we can't tell them apart after seven years. At least she put in the effort to change her hair colour this time."

They reached the sitting room and found three-fourths of their menagerie in various states of preparedness. Ivy was sitting beside the fireplace. Her hair was back to its usual black pixie cut and she was watching her fingernails change colours, seemingly trying to settle on the perfect shade of purple.
Their oldest, Julian, was sitting on his Hogwarts trunk, hunched over a broomstick with his inherited dark curls shielding his face. He was no doubt inspecting his broom for the millionth time, making sure it was in peak condition for when he tried out for a place on the Gryffindor Quidditch squad.

Their middle child was sprawled on his stomach, halfway under the sofa.

"Scorp, what are you doing?" Draco called.

"I found my trainer," Scorpius' muffled voice called back.

Draco sighed and pointed his wand at the sofa, making it levitate above their eleven-year-old. Scorpius rolled onto his back and grinned up at them, his blonde hair fanned out around his head.

"Thanks, Dad!"

A few more rolls and he was in the clear as Draco lowered the sofa back into place. Scorpius unlatched his trunk and shoved his final backup shoe into it. He was seriously going to go off to school without a complete pair of shoes...

"Scorpius Michael, are those bristles?" Hermione strode across the room and caught the top of the trunk as her son was hastily trying to close it. She reached in and pulled out a broomstick that had been poorly hidden under his first-year robes. "You know you're not allowed a broom during your first year."

"It's not fair! Julian gets to take his!"

"Because I'm in third year," Julian said, making a show of putting his broom in his trunk.