A/N: This is the extra chapter that readers have requested me to add in before the epilogue (out next). Hope it doesn't disappoint!

*****

"ON YOUR BLOODY HIPPOGRIFF WILL I GIVE YOU AWAY TO THAT GIT!"

"What Ron is trying to say," Hermione said brightly as she placed a cup of tea down in front of me, "is that he couldn't be prouder to walk you down the aisle on the most wonderful day of your life!"

"HERMIONE!" Ron bellowed, going puce with rage.

"And you'll be my best woman, of course?" I addressed Hermione, gratefully accepting the tea.

"I'm planning the hen party as we speak," Hermione said, closing her eyes blissfully. "I'm thinking candle lit spas and afternoon tea-"

"Will there be strippers and champagne involved?" I cut in, needing to sort out her priorities.

Ron choked on his tea.

"What?" I asked defensively. "It's tradition!"

"Aren't you all a bit old for that kind of thing?" Ron sniffed. "It seems a bit sleazy if you ask me."

"Just for that, Ronald," Hermione bristled, "I'm going to book the most expensive and exclusive stripper there is out there. I heard penis puppetry is all the rage right now."

"OVER MY DEAD BOD-"

"Careful Ronald, or I'll stop putting out," Hermione warned darkly, "seeing as you think we're too old for that kind of thing anyway..."

That shut Ron up.

*****

I glanced down at the stick in my hand, my eyes widening in horror as I stared at the single word which had just appeared on it.

Oh... shit.

This was a complete fucking disaster. I sat down on the edge of the bed, fanning myself with the offending stick.

"Mum?"

I snapped my head up to see Albus standing in the doorway, his face etched in concern. I attempted to hide the pregnancy test behind my back, but it ended up slipping from my hand and somehow skidded across the floor, halting right in front of Albus's feet.

His face went an instant shade of green as he glanced down at it.

"Is that- is that...?" He stuttered.

I nodded, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks.

"Wow, Mum." Albus said, bending down to pick it up, his eyes sweeping over the result before he stepped forward to hand it back to me. "Your timing is something else. I take it Dad doesn't know yet?"

I shook my head, sobbing harder. Thank fuck I was wearing waterproof mascara or else Hermione was going to kill me.

The hen party the night before had raised questions for me. Because although Hermione had supplied the much-anticipated champagne (and penis puppeteer), I found I couldn't stomach it.

And the last time I couldn't stomach champagne, it was because Albus had happened.

"It wasn't even on our radar," I explained shakily, "given our ages. And you and Scorp, you are enough for us, you are all that we need."

"You need to talk to Dad," Albus said firmly with a lot more calmness than I felt. "You can't go out there and marry him without knowing what you both want."

This was surprisingly mature coming from my sixteen-year-old son.

"But I'm old!" I wailed, running my fingers through my carefully styled hair. "I'm almost forty-one years old for fuck's sake! Draco isn't going to want an old hag of a wife birthing his-"

"Mum, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but shut up! You are not old, and Dad... well, Dad loves you." He crouched down in front of me so that he was at my eye level. "You know, he's the reason I'm here right now? He sent me here to make sure you're doing okay. He hasn't said it out loud, but it's obvious he's terrified that you're going to change your mind about marrying him, terrified of losing you... again."

I cried harder, hating how easy it was for me. Albus awkwardly pulled his arms around me, stiffly patting my back.

"Look, Mum, just sit tight, I'll be back in a minute, okay?"

He quickly got to his feet and strode out of the room before I could argue.

Less than a minute later, he returned.

With Draco.

"Etta?" Draco queried, striding across the room to me, his face pinched in concern. "What's wrong? Al said you needed to talk to me-"

He froze as his gaze landed on the stick in my hand, his eyes widening just as his son's had. "Oh... fuck."

"I'll uh- just... be outside," Albus said, slowly backing out of the room as he closed the door behind him.

Draco and I looked at one another in mutual horror.

"So, you're...?"

"According to this. Yes."

"And you're... uh- happy?"

"Are you?" I held my breath.

"I asked first."

Damn it!

His gaze held mine, questioningly. And slowly, I nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at my lips.

Draco's face seemed to crumple and soften all at the same time. Before I could decipher if this were good or bad, he closed the gap, pulling me into his arms as his lips began to furiously attack my face, his following words punctuated with kisses.

"This- Is- The- Best- Wedding- Gift- You- Could- Have- Ever- Given- Me!"

His lips met mine, catching them dearly as his hands tucked my hair behind my ears, smiling into the kiss.

I pulled away, breathless, looking up into his eyes.

"You don't think we're too old for this?" I rushed out, desperate to know that he was fully aware of what we would be letting ourselves in for.

He cupped my face, his eyes looking into mine with such fierce ardency. "Fuck no, Etta. You'll always be young and beautiful to me, even when we're old and grey. And you'll be an amazing mother - I know because you already are."

"I love you," I breathed, suddenly feeling delirious with joy. "I love you so much, Draco Malfoy."

"And I, Potter-" he murmured, pausing to kiss my scar before resting his forehead down on mine, "-love you more than you could ever know."

"Will this mean I'll have to give up my room?"

Startled, Draco and I both looked up to see Scorpius and Albus, grinning side by side at the now open door, both dressed in black suits, looking very much their fathers' sons.

"No, Scorp," I smiled, pulling away from Draco to turn to my soon to be stepson. "As I've said, that's your room and we've no intention of chucking you out."

"Besides, we're wizards with gold," Draco smirked, placing his hands in his trouser pockets so that his loose change jangled, "I'm sure we can build an extension or two if need be. Now come here and give Etta a hug, boys. I think she needs it, don't you?"

Neither boys hesitated, Scorpius getting to me first as he squeezed his arms tight around me. "Al and I will make sure to be the best big brothers there are."

"Woah, easy, Scorp," Draco said, his face full of alarm. "That's your baby brother or sister in there."

"It'll be fine," I scoffed whilst fiercely hugging Scorpius back. "This is going to be one lucky baby, that's for sure."

Albus hugged me next, lingering slightly longer.

"I love you, Mum." His voice was small, almost vulnerable.

"And I love you too, Al," I murmured softly, suddenly feeling overcome with emotion as I hugged my little boy.

My little boy who was no longer so little.

"Right, come on," Draco demanded, making a show of checking his watch. "We best make a move on or else Weasley's going to find a way to turn me back into a ferret if I'm the reason the bride's held up."

*****

On April fourth of two thousand and twenty-one, I married Draco Malfoy.

We hired out an entire castle in Scotland, grounds and all.

Fuck, it was the life being loaded.

Thanks to it coinciding with the Easter holidays, we were able to invite mostly everyone we knew - many of whom we had attended Hogwarts with (except for the ones that were either locked up or dead, of course), and others I knew through my years as Head Auror at the Ministry.

Carol cried the hardest, blowing her nose so loudly into her handkerchief, that Draco and I had to shout to exchange our vows.

"Who is that woman?" Draco had asked me bewilderedly. "She looks vaguely familiar... Wait - is it the trolley witch?"

Poor Carol.

After the ceremony, we sat down to a banquet fit enough for royalty as we feasted on the richest and most delicious foods from around the world.

Draco barely concentrated on the table's fine offerings though, seeming more interested in tenderly stroking my stomach as he gazed lovingly at me, his eyes filled with wonderment.

"You need to stop doing that!" I whispered furtively in his ear as we sat listening to Ron's 'father of the bride' speech ("I've never liked that selfish, arrogant, stuck up git - still don't. But my wife threatened to cut my balls off if I didn't do this.") "People are going to start guessing that I'm pregnant."

"I don't care," he drawled huskily, his grey eyes shining down into mine as he dragged my chair closer to his side. "Fuck, I love you, Mrs Malfoy-"

"Potter." I corrected him.

Rose caught my wedding bouquet, and Scorpius used the opportunity to ask her for a dance. She accepted.

They spent the majority of the song with their tongues down each others' throats. At some point, they disappeared, and we barely saw either of them again after that.

Luckily, by this point, Ron was so wasted, he had no idea what was going on. I had the sneaking suspicion that Hermione had slipped something in his drink.

It was only when Draco and I got ready to leave for our honeymoon (two weeks on our own private island in the Arabian Sea, complete with around the clock staff), Scorpius and Rose resurfaced from whichever part of the castle they'd been getting to know each other a little better to say goodbye.

They had lipstick smeared all around their mouths and their hair was looking suspiciously tousled. My god, I just prayed that Draco had spoken to Scorpius about contraception.

"Don't worry," Draco boasted afterwards. "I gave the boys each a box of condoms the night before their sixteenth birthdays."

"You did what?!"

"Look, I didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to freak out. Besides," he added, smirking slyly at me, "surely I should be receiving brownie points for being such a responsible parent?"

"Ron's going to kill you." I snorted, my eyes glinting wickedly.

"Well, he's going to have to try very hard to take me away from you two." His hand slipped to my stomach once again, cradling it beneath his fingers.

I felt another flutter of joy as our eyes met, our lips helplessly tugging up at the corners.

"I'm so glad we're doing this together at last," he murmured ardently as he dipped his head to press cool lips against my scar. "I'm going to look after you, Etta. I promise. You and the baby."

I mean, it was about bloody time.

******