“Morning.” One half of my fathership said, coming into our kitchen.

“Which one.” I replied with a bored tone, not looking up from my new copy of ‘Witch Weekly’. 

“Seamus.” Dad replied. “Here.” He said, tossing me a jumble of papers I assumed was from the Profit.

“Why am I reading this?” I asked, frowning while my glasses slid to the tip of my nose.

“Just read page 5.” Dad told me, pointing to the paragraph once I had flipped to page 5. 

I took a sip of my coffee, before starting at the headline.


“Took them long enough.” I scoffed. “So does Dad know?”

“Of course he does, he worked with Hermione to pass the law.” Dad said. “So you will no longer be a love child.”

“Well, technically I’m not a love child because you didn’t conceive me.” I pointed out.

“Smart, you must be related to me.”

“Ha, ha.”

A few minutes later Dad had come to sit next to me, with his own cup of coffee and boring advice for my O.W.L.S. 

“So, what are you thinking about doing after school?”

“Really Dad? You don’t think I’ll be getting this question enough?”

“Well, consider it a warm up.” 

“I’ll consider it a fuck up. But honestly I don’t actually know. I mean, I’m president of the school’s Queer Club, a chaser, an active member of the celebration committee, and keeping an eye on Ian. Whatever will I do once I leave Hogwarts?”

“Technically you’ll have one less thing to do next year. Ian’s two years older.”

“As if you had to remind me.” I  groaned.

“Norway, it’s always going to be like that. Nothing you can do.” He said in a consoling voice.

“Please, you sound like Pa.”

“I will not sound like your father in a million years.” Dad said, throwing back his head in laughter.

We talked for about twenty more minutes, when Dad started to wonder where Pa and Ian were.

Ian, right, I hadn’t introduced him. Ian Finnigan is my horribly annoying brother. Anyway, we were supposed to be going to get our school things in Diagon Alley, and they were supposed to be up a half an hour ago.

“Maybe Pa’s sick. I mean, he normally gets up long before you.” 

“That is right. Which is perhaps why I gave your father the opportunity to be the first dad up this morning.” My other dad, Dean Thomas, said in the doorway. 

“Morning, dear. See the paper?”

“Of course I did. Needed something to do while I was waiting. Had to stay ‘asleep’ long enough for you to know the feeling of being the only father up.”

“Hilarious. Only Ian causes trouble in the morning.” I interjected.

“Good to know.” Pa said to me. “So what are we being called today?” He asked, turning to Dad. 

“Seamus is Dad. And your Pa, as always. You’ll have to ask Ian because the little shit can’t seem to make up his mind.” I interjected again.

“Language Norway Finnigan.” Pa scolded.

“What? Dad lets me swear.” I complained.

Pa turned to Dad, with a pissy look on his face. “Seamus! What have I told you about letting my children swear?!”

“I thought they were our children Dean, dear.”

Our children.” Pa corrected himself. “Our children.” He repeated, giving me a quick kiss on the head.

“What the bloody hell is all this ruckus about?!” Ian’s voice came in to the room.

 “Oh we’re just excited.” Dad said. “About what?” Ian groaned, grabbing a cup and half heartedly pouring the brew of coffee in it. 

“This,” Pa said, tossing the Profit in Ian’s general direction. It hit Ian in the face and he groaned, then took his wand out of his pocket and lifted the paper to his eyes so he could take a peek. (activate instant jealousy for the fact that I have to wait till’ I’m of age to do magic outside of school.)

“So what does this mean?” He asked hastily.

“Well, it means we can get married.” Pa shrugged. “And of course we don’t have to but-“

“You’ve been waiting for a while.” Ian said, with a sigh. 

“Exactly.” Dad said, almost tearing up a little. “Too long.”

“We’ll get married this spring.” Pa announced.

 “Oh, yeah. So I can sneeze in the middle of my vows? No thanks.” Dad said.

“This summer then. We’ll be back from Hoggy.” Ian suggested.

“Good idea!” I said, excitedly. “I like summer weddings, even though they’re hot. Ginny and Harry’s wedding was a summer wedding, and so was Luna and Rolf’s.”



There was no way I was going anywhere like this. I stared at myself in the mirror and felt like throwing up. God this was the shittiest sweater I had ever seen.

It was an hour after we’d come back from Diagon Alley, and my fathers had surprised me. Generally I’m a surprise person. Actually, I love surprises. 

Buuuuut… This one? Um.

For O.W.L. year, dads had gotten Ian a new cat. A beautiful black cat, which he called Sombre. This year, for his N.E.W.T. year, he’d gotten a new broom.

I was the favourite, so I was expecting something better, or at least of the same worth, but… My fathers decided to buy me a chunky Gryffindor sweater.

I’d owled Hugo Weasley, my best friend, about it and got the answer within the hour.


Your parents are just proud of their only Gryffindor child. They gave Ian a cat and a broom so that he wouldn’t get addicted to firewhiskey during crunch time, he had distractions. They know that you’re their little Gryffinclaw. Norway Thomas Finnegan would never get drunk, or pregnant, or get herself killed. They’re proud of you, and know you won’t get into trouble. Take it as a compliment.

Love, Hugo 


I sighed at this. I knew he was right, but I didn’t exactly wan’t to believe it. 

“Nor! Come down here.” Pa—or was it Dad? I could almost never tell their voices apart. Pa, definitely Pa.

“Okay!” I called back.

I debated taking off the chunky and hot, bright red sweater, but thought better of it after remembering Hugo’s letter.

I trotted down the stairs, and what I saw on the counter continued to fire up my curiosity. 

“Is that for me?” I asked quietly.

“Well, you can open it.”

I rushed over to the counter and tore the wrapping without a second thought. I hadn’t mis-judged the shape, and it was in fact the newest broom on the market.

“How could you afford this?!” I exclaimed, looking at the Dynamic 5.

“I got a raise, and was saving for your O.W.L. gift.”

“I thought the sweater was my O.W.L. gift.” I sighed with relief.

“Okay then,” Pa said, getting tricky. “You can only have the broom, if,”


“If you wear the sweater to Kings Cross, and keep it on for the train ride.”

“Pa, that’s so embarrassing!” I cried out. “No way!”

“Okay then. I guess I’ll give this to-“

“Fine!” I said. “I’ll wear it to Kings Cross.” 

“Dear, you're not making her wear that chunky thing are you?” Dad said, coming into the kitchen. “I’m sorry Nor, I tried to talk him out of buying it.”

“It’s fine Dad. He wouldn’t of let you kiss him if you didn’t agree to his every demand.” I pointed out.

Dad leaned over to kiss Pa. “Not true.” He uttered, after Pa returned the gesture. They’d said a few more things and then I realized they had started to kiss a bit more passionately. 

“Okay, I’m gonna’ go. Just, do what you do.” I said, gagging slightly. I slipped out of the room, and then remembered my broom, so I shut my eyes and found it with my hand, then ran up the stairs to my room.

I’d always liked my room. It was a pretty colour of blue, and was covered in Chuddley Canons posters and family pictures. I’d always stare happily at the picture of me and Hugo that sat on my bedside table. We waved and smiled to me, and sometimes I couldn’t help  but smile back. During the summers, when I missed Hugo, I looked at that picture. I brought the picture to Hogwarts, and on our over-seas family trips. 

I was excited for the 24’ school year, but also, I was freaking out. I had no idea what I wanted to do after Hogwarts. I’d thought about the DMLE or maybe pursuing quidditch, but other then that I had no idea. And this year was supposed to be about figuring out exactly what I wanted to do with my life.



That night, I slipped into Ian’s room and crawled into bed with him.

 “What’s up.” He mumbled in a sleepy voice.

“What did you do about it?” I whispered. 

“About what?”

“O.W.L. Career interviews.”

“I don’t quite know. I just tried to find what I liked.” Ian said, and I nodded (as much as one can nod when they are smooshed up against one’s brother.)

“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” Ian told me. “And if you don’t, I’ll let you crash at my place when you’ve failed and disappointed dads.”

“Thanks for the love big brother.” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

 Ian kissed me on the forehead and then pushed me out of his bed. “Go get some sleep!” He said.



“You know you don’t actually have to wear that hun.” Pa said, laughing at me in my chunky red sweater. Well not laughing ‘at me’, because dads don’t laugh at their daughters (at least loving gay unicorn dads don’t). 

“I can make jokes too. It’s not just your dad.” Pa said.

“Did my fiancé just make a joke? How rare!” Dad exclaimed, feigning surprise. “Morning.” He added. 

“Where’s Ian. You two’ll miss the train if he doesn’t get up soon.” Pa said.

“I have arrived fathers.” Ian said, launching himself at the breakfast bar.

“Watch it, I made waffles.” Dad gasped. 

“You couldn’t make waffles if a five star chef guided you step by step and held your hand while doing it.” Pa said. 

“Very funny.” 

Dad served up the waffles he made (and by made, I mean used a muggle toaster and covered them in chocolate chips and strawberries so no one would be able to tell they were toaster waffles.)

After looking at the clock, I decided it would be a good idea to eat fast. We had an hour to get ready and leave.

Ian noticed my haste, and decided it might be a good idea to follow suit. He gobbled up his waffles faster then Viktor Krum could fly, and dashed upstairs to get his trunk.

 He came back down with both of our trunks, and Dad smiled. “No one would ever not believe you’re related to us.”

“I think the reddish brown hair and tan skin already shot that hippogriff in the face.”

Of course, wizard surrogacy had advanced much farther then muggle surrogacy. So we both had 33.3 percent of all three of our parents gene pools. So, it was a shock to everyone that both our fathers had made us.


Ian had a paler version of Pa’s skin and Dad’s weirdly coloured hair. I was cursed with the weird hair, and my tall and ganglyness (I was taller then Ian), thanks Pa. I think I was blessed with being the smart one, and Ian the athletic one. Ian is a Slytherin (from our mother apparently,  but we refuse to meet her.) and I’m a Gryffindor, both my dads (obviously.)

We’d inherited other characteristics from our mother, but me and Ian hated talking about her, and we didn’t even know her name. Dads wanted us to meet her, but they accepted and understood our choice not to. We didn’t want another parent. It would be horrible.

 “C’mon guys, Hogwarts Express leaves in 20.” Dad said, motioning to the door.

“I’m gonna miss you.” I complained to Dad. He shook his head and drew me in for one of his famous hugs. 

Dad is really good at giving hugs. Pa is good at them too, but he can’t just walk up to a sad acquaintance and cheer him up with a long bear hug.


When we got to Kings Cross, Pa tried and failed to smooth down Ian’s wild hair and Dad gave me another bone crushing hug.

“Daddy, you’re embarrassing me.” I whined, gritting my teeth.

“You just embarrassed yourself by calling me ‘Daddy’.” He pointed out.

“True.” I said. 

“Norway,” Pa said, coming over, with Ian still in tow as he kept trying to smooth down his crazy hair. 


“I love you. See you at Christmas.”

“Only Ian’s coming home for Christmas.” I reminded him, and he nodded sadly. I love my dads, but honestly, I need longer then two and a half months away from them for once. I want to see what staying at Hogwarts is like. 

“Plus I’m pretty sure I’m too old for your Nimbus 2500 Pancakes.” 

“You’re never too old for my Nimbus 2500 Pancakes.” Pa said, taking his hand off Ian’s hair and pushing mine back instead.

“I love you, Norway.”

“Love you too, Pa.”

Dad hugged Ian and I hugged Pa, then we switched, and then we were on the train and they were waving to our separate compartments. 

“What’s up girl?” Hugo’s voice drifted into the compartment. “My sister is driving me crazy. I was sitting with her, then her boyfriend comes round’ and they start making out.”

“Who’s her boyfriend?”

“Scorpius Malfoy.” 

“Wow. Tough. What did your mum and dad say?”

“Don’t know, they don’t really talk to her.” Hugo shrugs. “Except for: ‘Pass the salt’, or ‘turn off the lights’, or ‘he’s a Malfoy, Rosie. He’s evil and deceitful, he’s not right for you.’”



Hugo sits down, and points his wand at his head (probably to cure a headache) and then pulls a book out. He probably will end up talking to me instead.

Hugo is a Ravenclaw. He’s got ‘O’s in all his classes, except for Divination, which he won’t be taking this year (on account of 'Headmaster Trinivi you can't make me. I need O's in everything). He’s got an ‘E’ in Divination, and he sucks at it and also hates it, which paints a nice picture of his Ravenclawness. 

 “So, then I go to find Albus, because I can’t find you, and guess what.”

“He was snogging.”

“Yeah, some Ravenclaw 6th year named Andrea Woundblood. If her last name is any indication, I think she’ll wound Albus in five weeks tops.” Hugo said. “She’s actually quite mean to me.”

“I don’t understand how that boy is a Hufflepuff. He dates the meanest girls ever.”

“Except Claire Olivia, she was good for him. I want her back with him so that he’s celibate and nice again.”

“Please, Albus will never be celibate.”

“Unfortunately I have to agree.” Hugo nodded grimly. “Cheers to a new year.” He said, changing the subject completely and giving me a wining smile.

“Cheers to a new year.” I replied. 




Track This Story:    Feed


Get access to every new feature the moment it comes out.

Register Today!