Imagine Draco’s reaction when your twins get sorted into Slytherin.
“I told you they’d be Slytherin,” Draco chuckled, folding the letter your twins had sent you from Hogwarts. “They’re Malfoys.”
You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to your husband’s cheek, “Just like their father. And it would have been fine if they hadn’t been Slytherin. There’s more to life than your house.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes, “Slytherin is a proud house. A good house. We may have gotten a bad reputation, but we’re not all arrogant villains. We’re old-fashioned at times but we’re not evil.”
You smiled, “I know, love. There’s nothing wrong with being Slytherin. It’s a perfectly fine house and I’m sure the twins will contribute to giving it a glowing reputation.”
“It seems proper that the Malfoys continue to be Slytherins though, doesn’t it?” your husband hummed, kissing your palm.
I decided to become an artist when I was about your age. I liked to draw so much, I almost hated to go to bed. And then one day, all of a sudden, I couldn’t draw anything. Everything I drew, I didn’t like. I realized that my art up to then was a copy of someone else, things I had seen somewhere. I decided I had to discover my own style. It’s still difficult. But then, the results… They seem to be a little better than before. It’s nice to be a witch, isn’t it? I like the idea - to be a witch, to be an artist, to be a baker… It’s an energy bestowed by the gods or someone, right? Though thanks to it, we do have to suffer at times.