epilogue

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Five years later.

"I'm home." Draco kicked the door to his flat shut behind him.

Silence.

"Hello?" His keys clanked as he tossed them onto the marble countertop in the kitchen and he kicked off his shoes.

He walked into the cozy flat and into the small living room that was right by the kitchen. He smiled softly at the sight.

Fred lay on the couch, asleep, with the twins—who wore matching T-shirts and shorts—using him as their own personal bed. The Muggle tv was running, a cartoon playing.

Baloo was sleeping on the ledge of the window.

Bea stirred on top of her dad and slowly lifted her head from his chest to see her other dad. "Daddy?" Her voice was small and full of sleep.

"Hi, my love." Draco crossed to the couch and picked her up in his arms. He held her on his hip. "How was your day with Dada?"

"Sleepy," she mumbled, and groggily rubbed her eyes.

He couldn't help but smile at his beautiful daughter. She was a spitting image of her mother, despite the platinum curl that hung on the left side of her head and the single blue eye.

"Are you hungry?" He brushed her messy curls away from her face. "Did Dada feed you before you fell asleep?"

Bea couldn't answer because Fred's snores suddenly rose to the level of a leaf blower, which startled a sleeping Ayah.

Draco rolled his eyes at his husband and walked to the kitchen with Bea in his arms. "Daddy's going to make you a snack. Do you want a snack?" he asked, and set his daughter on the counter.

Bea nodded, still dazed by sleep.

As Draco made conversation with his daughter while making a snack, Fred had woken and entered the kitchen in his jeans and T-shirt with Ayah tossed over his shoulder like a rag doll. With this being a regular occurrence, she just hung limply over his shoulder.

"When'd you get home?" Fred's voice was thick with sleep as he put Ayah next to Bea on the counter.

"Not that long ago." Draco paused in the middle of snack-making to kiss Ayah on the head. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, Daddy." Ayah smiled so brightly up at her dad. "Guess what?"

Like Bea, Ayah was a spitting image of their mother. Only difference was the gold colour that twinkled over half of one eye and the whole of her other eye.

"What?" Draco asked with an encouraging smile, brushing a thin curl from her eyelash.

"Dada gave us—"

"Carrot sticks," Fred blurted out quickly, reaching his hand out to cover the child's mouth. "Dada gave you babies carrot sticks, isn't that right?"

"Pop-pops and donuts!" Ayah cheered as her hands flung into the air.

"Sprinkles and chocolate and blue pop-pops!" Bea joined in gleefully. Pop-pops were popsicles since the babies had trouble saying popsicles.

Fred face-palmed. "Nice job having my back, you little witches," he muttered, and folded his arms over his chest.

Draco's head turned as a glare set upon his face. "You gave them what, Weasley?"

"Nothing," Fred blurted at the stern look on his husband's face. "They're lying. They're four. They know nothing."

Draco's face remained stern.

"I didn't do anything," Fred protested defensively. "They just want to get me into trouble."

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