Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor its universe, nor its characters, nothing! I'm doing this while not seeing any wretched coin.
I'm clarifying this, just in case you didn't read the information of this one-shot. This is not Drarry: not Slash, not Pre-slash, none of that stuff (about this couple, at least). Draco and Harry are friends, although they are quite close to each other.
This is not Harry Potter and The Cursed Child compliant.
I don't speak English, so, although I re-read this a lot of times and tried to not make mistakes, most likely there are many things that sound weird or, plainly, are bad written. So, please, as I do this to improve my English, leave a comment with all the things you think I should check again! (If you want to read the Spanish version of this, however, you can find it in my alternative acount, Cuchufleta PL)
I don't know if I should call this an attempt of comedy because, actually, I wasn't looking for laughter, but just something amusing. But if you do laugh a bit... I'm glad, naturally.
Well, enjoy!
Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had thought that the Universe had a very odd sense of humour when they found out that their sons had become friends in the Hogwarts Express, in their first year. That humour became wicked when, as their N.E.W.T. results arrived, it also did the news that Albus and Scorpius had been dating since the end of fifth year. And, although the wedding, six years later, was welcomed happily, seeing the two on the altar was terribly awkward for Harry and Draco — the boys were virtually copies of them. They did not oppose to it and — grudgingly — admitted that they were a rather cute couple, but it was all so extremely weird.
But there were Potter and Malfoy, friends at last, after all those years, because as they were family now and had gotten over the oh-Merlin-our-sons-are-boyfriends crisis together, it seemed to be the only viable option. It had been a year since the wedding, and the jokes (about what face would their teen-selves put on if they travelled back to their era at Hogwarts and told them that their sons were married and they were going to be granfathers of the same baby in eight months) had almost ceased.
Astoria had explained it to an amazed Harry — who had showed another of his cultural gaps of the magical word. Around the 18th century, the Greengrass family — her ancestors — had discovered a way to make possible infertile or same-sex people having children. They just needed the essence of both of the parents, a healthy surrogate mother and a specialised Healer who knew the ritual. Hermione commented that, if the genetic studies continued like they had up to now, in a couple of years it would be possible in the Muggle world too.
The idea was wonderful. Albus and Scorpius deserved to be able to form a family of their own blood. Besides, it was partially necessary, because — as Draco told him — Malfoy Manor wouldn't recognise totally an adopted child as heir; it wouldn't reject them, but, for example, there would be secret places in the mansion to which they could not access. And women of half magic world needed time for offering themselves as surrogate mother to Harry Potter's — the Saviour, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived — grandchild.
But there was a problem.
"Malfoy-Potter," Draco said.
"Potter-Malfoy," Harry replied.
Yes, they could be friends and their sons' fathers-in-law and everything you wanted, but that discussion was able to make them be back to their animosity years.
"Malfoy-Potter!"
"Potter-Malfoy!"
It was entire Albus and Scorpius's fault. The boys, very intelligently, had told their parents that their child would carry both surnames, with a hyphen… but they had not specified in which order, and they didn't seem to be willing to do it for the moment. And that, of course, had leaded to a war of family pride between Draco and Harry.
"Malfoy-Potter! Even language is on my side, Harry." Now, most of the times that he said 'Potter', his ex-nemesis, Albus, James and Lily's heads turned to him at the same time — and it happened pretty much the same when Harry said 'Malfoy', so they saw themselves forced to use their first names. "Most of the Indo-European languages put M before P. MP. Malfoy-Potter. You know I'm right, it can't be other way."
"That's not a valid point! This rule just applies when M is right before P, and there is 'alfoy' between them. And that's just because, how the hell do you think you're going to pronounce an M after a P?!"
Draco seemed bewildered for a brief second. Harry Potter knowing orthography had caught him off guard. And aforesaid Harry Potter noticed his confusion, decided to ignore the offensiveness of the matter and allowed himself a smirk.
"Muggle Elementary School, that's it," he said, leaning back in the armchair.
"Anyway," Draco continued, "M is still before P in the alphabet. So they will appear before in the school lists."
"And this is supposed to be important?" asked Harry, honestly lost.
"Of course yes."
"Why the hell?"
"For starters, in their first year at Hogwarts: the Sorting Ceremony. The sooner you know to what House you belong, the better. Less nervous."
That was a good point, to be honest. Merlin knew how much Harry had suffered waiting his turn to put the Sorting Hat on. But defeat was not an option and he attacked by other flank.
"Is it you who's talking about nervousness, Draco? You knew that you were going to be placed in Slytherin. You could not possibly have been in other House." Draco opened his mouth to reply, but Harry added quickly, "Besides, being at the end of the list is, actually, an advantage. If they are collecting homework in alphabetical order, you are one of the latest. You can't imagine how many times the long road till P has saved my arse and given me time to finish an essay."
Draco rolled his eyes.
"Sure, because Snape didn't collect first your homework. Always."
"That doesn't count, Snape hated me."
"And that had all to do with the Potter surname, didn't it?" the blond man concluded with a smirk. "And, while we are into it, I can't believe that someone with Potter as first surname isn't going to get in trouble. There is a curse in your family, Harry, you're jinxed or something. And I don't want my grandchildren to be expelled from Hogwarts, thank you very much."
Harry narrowed his eyes, with no arguments to refute that. He did not remember exactly how many times he or Ginny had had to go to McGonagall's office and leave, two hours later, with an awful headache — he just knew that it was an exorbitant number. He would remember forever when James, doing justice to his grandad's name, managed to fool the elves so they added Laxative Potion in the food of the Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables; or when Lily, literally, put herself wings and flew out by the window, unable to land; or when Albus smashed Moaning Myrtle's bathroom because the ghost was stalking Scorpius in the prefects bathroom — how bad-tempered the kid was when he wanted, really. They had good marks and never were expelled, but the Potters' fate was to have a full academic record, of course.
But Harry still had an ace up the sleeve to win that discussion, although he hated himself a lot for using it.
"Yes, but (and you, as good Slytherin, have to see the benefits of this) my surname is more famous and has more influence in our society."
Now it was Draco who was narrowing his eyes as Harry grinned.
"You bastard. That was a low blow, Potter. It was supposed that you were too much of an upstanding man to let yourself crawl for the fame of your name… How un-Gryffindor of you, really."
"You push me to the very edges, Malfoy," the raven-haired man agreed, sighing and still smiling. How good victory tasted. "To the very edges."
Eight months later, Albus and Scorpius sent owls to Malfoy Manor and the Potter's house to tell their parents that the witch who had offered them her uterus had gone into labour.
It was at night and Draco had, pleasantly and happily, his face buried in his pillow. He woke up with the unmistakable tap of an owl against the window, but of course he refused to get up. Astoria asked him whispering if he could go to check what it was — he groaned a bit and hugged the pillow. His wife rolled her eyes, slipped from the silk sheets and crossed the palatial-sized room till the window, which was also the glass door to the balcony. She opened the window, took the letter from the owl and read it as the bird took flight. A whoop of joy overflowed the manor and, thirty minutes later, Draco and Astoria were in St. Mungo's.
The Potters were already there, waiting at the hallway. Albus and Scorpius were inside the room; they wanted to witness the childbirth of their first-born. Harry told them that they were so thrilled that he did not want to spoil it and tell them that, in fact, you must had mettle and a strong stomach to watch the miracle of life. After an hour and a half of waiting, there was a moment in which Albus came out from the room, slightly dizzy, to get some fresh air for a moment before returning inside there. The four future-grandparents shared a look and burst into laughs.
Much later, Draco was about to start reconsidering if burst into the delivery room and demand more speed was absolutely and irrevocably insensible, just as Astoria said, when the door opened and Scorpius came out with a bulge covered with blue sheets in his arms, the brightest smile ever seen in him — even happier than his wedding one — and tears in his eyes. Albus came beside him, the same blissful expression of his husband's, without looking away from his newborn child.
Ginny was fast and approached his son to hug him and kiss his cheek. Then, she turned to Scorpius to do the same, careful to not harm the baby, and looked over the sheets, her smile widening. After her, Astoria, Harry and Draco came.
People usually say that newborns aren't exactly pretty, but, as it happened when he first glanced at Scorpius, Draco thought that his grandson was the most beautiful creature on the face of the Earth. Maybe it had something to do with the baby being blood of his own blood and that he was becoming slushy with age.
The baby hardly had hair, but the little he had was platinum-blond: Malfoy hair. He had some pale freckles on his nose and cheeks — Weasley inheritance. And his eyes, wide-eyed and looking his surroundings with curiosity, were an intense and deep green; Albus, Harry and Lily Evan's eyes. As good newborn baby, his features weren't very discernible yet, but his nose was pretty like Scorpius's and his ears had, definitively, Albus's shape.
"I feel so old all of a sudden…" Harry murmured jokingly. Although there was truth in those words. Draco felt suddenly older as well: grandfather sounded like a very big word. He was feeling very impatient to start spoiling his grandson with sweets and toys.
"I can't believe yet that it has been Albus, and not James, who made me a granny first."
"What is his name at last?" Astoria asked, and the four grandparents raised their glances.
Albus smiled even more, if that was possible.
"Mum, Dad, Draco, Astoria… We present you to Altais Henry Malfoy-Potter."
Draco quickly raised his look to see Harry's face and savour the moment even more. Seeing how the disappointment at losing and the immediate affection towards his grandson fought in his ex-rival's eyes made very, very difficult to Draco being able to hold back and not raise a fist in the air, laughing victoriously.
Personally, I think that Potter-Malfoy sounds better (and my friends said the same when I asked them), but I wanted to give Draco a little triumph today XD (And I wasn't kidding when I wrote about the homework thing. My surname is Pozo. Yep, P really helps a lot, hehe.)
By the way, I don't know if you know, but if you do, an applause for you. Altais is the brightest star of the constellation Draco, and Henry is a name derivative of Harry (which is older; medieval, I think?). Uhm, yeah, basically.
Kisses, gentecita! Hope you liked and, if you did, please favourite it and review!