Just a little something I've been tinkering with. It'll mostly be about Harry's children and, later, his parents. There're going to be quite a few chapters. There's some cussing and sex references, so if that sort of stuff bothers you, I suggest you don't read this story. If you have any corrections or suggestions, just let me know when you review.

Chapter 1 - In which the stage is set

James was almost everyone's favorite. Well, of course Lily was his mother's favorite, not to mention his grandmother's and, okay, fine, pretty much all cheek-pinching old ladies. But James had won over the hearts of nearly everyone else. Everyone but his father, it seemed.

Albus was their father's favorite. He never said as much, but James could tell. The way their father would whisper to Albus, giving him quiet words of encouragement. The way he would always ask Albus to accompany him on walks, where he would tell Albus things he couldn't tell anybody else. The way his eyes twinkled with joy anytime Albus did just about anything. Yes, Al was definitely Harry Potter's favorite child.

Several years earlier, going into his second year at Hogwarts, James had been positive that it would be his turn to win over his father. He'd made it into Gryffindor his first year and he'd kept his grades up in (nearly) all his classes, particularly in transfiguration. He'd made just about a million friends and had charmed all of his teachers, including Headmistress McGonagall. And he was absolutely sure that he would make the Quiddich team this year, which would really just be the icing on the cake. After all that, he knew that his father would grow to love him the most.

But it hadn't happened that way. Even after Al had made -much to nearly everyone else in the family's dismay- the Slytherin house, and even after James had become the Quiddich seeker, their father seemed all the more proud of Albus, but gave hardly a pat on the back to James.

Now entering his sixth year at Hogwarts, very little had changed for James. Well, very little except that he'd become increasingly vocal about his dislike of Al. Similarly, Al seemed to take every opportunity to remind James that he was their father's favorite and not James. Of course, most everyone attributed this sibling rivalry to, simply, "boys being boys."

This year, though, James was going to give it his all. Finally, after sixteen years, he would win his father's heart. You see, James had a plan. A plan to expose his brother's flaws and to make a bright light shine on his very own best traits.

Unfortunately, what James didn't know was that Al would soon develop a plan of his own.

"I've gotta go, Dad," Al said. "The train's about to leave."

Harry Potter gave his son a smile and patted him on the back. "Right. See you this Christmas. Make me proud, all right?"

"Of course," Al said. He gave his father a quick hug and then rushed onto the train, a slight smile on his face.

Al found an empty compartment on the train and sat down. Almost immediately, a blonde Slytherin entered. The boy plopped himself down across from Al and said, "I'm hungry. You have anything to eat?"

"Nice to see you, too, Scorpius," Al said. He reached into his pocket and tossed the blonde a packet of M&Ms.

"What the fuck?" Scorpious asked, looking down at the little red M&M man on the package.

"It's a muggle candy," Al replied. Scorpious gave him a skeptical look. "Just eat it."

Scorpius ripped open the package and shoved about half of its contents in his mouth at once. "Whatever," he said, his mouth full.

Al shook his head. "Do you eat with your mouth open in the ever large and sinister Malfoy Manor?"

Scorpius nodded vigorously. "Especially if my grandparents are over. It's priceless, the looks they get on their faces. I swear, I almost made my grandfather throw up once."

"Lovely," Al said.

"Speaking of shocking my very old fashioned family," Scorpius began, "I've been thinking about it, and I've decided that I'm going to marry a muggle."

"Which one?"

"Oh, any old one will do," Scorpious said. "Can't you just picture it? My grandparents would die on the spot and my dad would probably have a heart attack."

"If you want to really do them in," started Al, "you should marry a muggle man."

"Brilliant!" Scorpious exclaimed. "A muggle man who's over twice my age and half my height, with twelve children and no limbs. They're just go wild over him, I bet."

Al and Scorpious had been friends since the beginning of their first year at Hogwarts. They'd met on the train ride, actually. "You're one of Harry Potter's kids, aren't you?" little tiny Scorpious had asked.

"Yes. And you're Draco Malfoy's son," scrawny first year Al had said. "My name's Albus."

"That's a stupid name."

"Yeah? What's yours?"

"Scorpius."

Al had never laughed more in his entire life. "Seriously?" Al had asked.

Scorpius had sniffed. "It was the name of a distant uncle of mine. It used to be a very common name."

"Yeah, about four hundred years ago," Al had said, still laughing. Two hours and two black eyes later, the two of them were the best of friends.

Anyway, back to the present, Scorpious was lamenting his lack of a girlfriend. "I mean, I'm a fifth year, Al," Scorpious whined. "Everybody else has been getting laid since, like, second year."

"That's really vulgar," Al said.

"Yeah, I know. I should find some way to incorporate that into my next conversation with my grandfather." Scorpius leaned back in his seat. "Hey, how old do you think your parents were when they first did the deed?"

Al nearly coughed up a dozen M&Ms. "Holy shit, Scorpius! How the bloody hell am I supposed to know that?"

Scorpous shrugged. "I don't know. You and your dad seem really close and all. I'm surprised he never told you."

"This may surprise you, but most normal people don't discuss things like this with their kids," All said.

Scorpius shrugged. "Well, how am I supposed to know that? My dad and I never discuss anything. As far as I know normal people talk about all kinds of awkward things at the dinner table. Sex, irritable bowel syndrome, chest hairs, menstruation, masturbation…"

And that's when Rose Weasley walked into the compartment. "Really now, Scorpius… Do I even want to know?"

Scorpius jumped out of his seat, his normally pale face bright red. "Ah! Rose! We were just talking about… I mean… We weren't talking about you or anything."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "I didn't assume that you were."

"Right," Scorpius said. "I, um…. I'm going to sit down now."

Rose shook her head and turned to Al. "I was going to ask if I could sit here, but on second thought, I think I'll go find Genevieve." With that, the fifth year Ravenclaw turned and left.

There was silence for a moment, and then Scorpius turned to Al and asked, "So… When did your cousin get tits?"

Al had a look on his face like he'd just walked in on two naked house elves comparing their junk.

"Seriously, though, did she go through a growth spurt or something this summer?" Scorpius asked. "Hey, you know, I bet if I brought her home my family would freak out even more than if I dragged some muggle in. I dunno. Do you think a guy like me and a girl like her…"

"No, no, no, definitely not," Al said.

"Yeah, but…"

"No, no, no, no, no."

"Oh, come on, Al, it's not totally unrealistic," Scorpius said. "I mean, I am rather dashing and she's become a total boner magnet. We're perfect for each other."

"You know, sometimes I really can't tell if you're joking or not," Al grumbled.

Lily stepped into the compartment just in time to miss the heinous conversation. "Hi, Al," she said in her sweet, little voice.

Lily was a second year Gryffindor with an unruly mane of red hair. She was covered in freckles and had very chubby cheeks despite the fact that she was a very thin girl. Picture Little Debby and multiply her cuteness by two and you'd have little Lily Potter.

"Why, hello, Lily!" Scorpius said, jovially. "Why don't you come sit on Uncle Scorpius' lap?"

"Go fuck yourself," said little Lily Potter, as sweetly as can be.

Lily sat down next to Al. "I'm bored. Tell me a story about Hobbits."

"What's a Hobbit?" asked Scorpius, taking a gargantuan bite off of a sandwich he'd pulled out of his bag.

"It's a muggle thing," Al said. "Picture Professor Flitwick but with really hairy feet."

"Blimey," said Scorpious.

"Once there was a Hobbit named, um, Billy," Al said, his arm protectively around Lily. "Billy was very kind and he always gave presents to people. But then one day he was run over by a bus and he died. And, um, everybody was very sad. So they had him stuffed and took turns carrying him around and pretending that he was still alive. And, ah, then one day he came back to life and everyone was happy and they had pudding for dinner. The end."

"That was the worst story I've ever heard in my life," said little Lily Potter.

"Yeah, don't quit your day job, Potter," said Scorpius, taking another monstrous bite from his sandwich.

It was a very long train ride.

Sorting was quickly becoming one of the most boring of all ceremonies at Hogwarts. Of course, James had been very excited about it his first year. He'd known, of course, that he would get into Gryffindor, even after the sorting hat joked about putting him in Hufflepuff if he didn't hold still. And of course it had been interesting the year after, what with his brother making Slytherin and his cousin making Ravenclaw. But now all James could think about was that half of the first years would probably get lice from the blasted hat.

Next to James sat Lily and about a million of their Weasley cousins. Well, okay, only five. But it seemed like a million sometimes. There was Hugo, a third year who, unbeknownst to most of the witches and wizards he met, bared an uncanny resemblance to Danny Partridge. And then there were Dominique and Louis, a seventh and a sixth year respectively, the two of them being Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur's children. Oh, and then there were Molly and Lucy, Uncle Percy's twin fourth year daughters. And let's not forget Fred and Roxanne who, despite their natural hair color being black like their mother, Angelina's, had their hair constantly died red, so that everyone would know that they were Weasleys, too. Their father, George, had suggested the idea to them three years ago when Fred was a third year and Roxanne was a second year. Anyway, what this all came down to was that at this very moment, as James was contemplating all the lice and dandruff that was surely on the sorting had, he realized that he was completely surrounded by a gaggle of redheads.

"I need to get out of here," James muttered under his breath. It wasn't that he didn't love his sister and cousins. It was simply that constantly being with family could be a bit suffocating for him at times.

James snuck down the table, careful not to make (much) noise, as the moldy, old hat was still sorting away. He finally found several of his friends. It was odd, but most of his close friends seemed to be the children of his parents' friends and acquaintances. That's the unfortunate thing about attending the same school as your parents, and a small school at that: you're doomed to already know just about everybody. Let's see now… Pete was Seamus' son. Oh, and so was Lance. And Alex was Dean and Luna's son and Barry was Cho Chang's son. Oh, and Chitra was one of the Patil ladies' daughters; James could never remember which one's. There were dozens of people, dozens of names, dozens of parents, all of which were very familiar to James.

As James sat down next to Pete and Alex, he looked across the room to the Slytherin table. There was Al with Scorpius, his one friend. That was one thing James had always had above Al: his undying popularity. Besides, Scorpious' father was familiar, too. Just not in the nicest of ways.

The sorting was over, so everyone could talk freely now. "Hey, James," Pete said, nudging James in the ribs.

"Yeah?"

"You know your cousin, Rose?" Pete asked. "Like, when did she finally get a rack?"

James thought for a second. "No idea. When did you get yours?"

Pete slugged James hard on his shoulder. His slight weight issue had always been a bit of a sore spot for him.

"Hey, Alex," James said.

Alex stared forward, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes completely unseeing.

"Hey, asshole!" James said, swatting Alex on the back.

"Oi, sorry," Alex said, coming to. "I must've blanked out again there."

"Just make sure you're not so spacey when we start Quiddich practice next week," James said. James had made Quiddich captain this year, so he felt very captainy whenever he told another player to either start or stop something to better his playing abilities.

"Captainy" is not actually a word. James Potter, however, felt that it should be.