Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters.

Also, if a certain Tumblr user happens to come across this, I'd like to say that expressopatronum began my ideas behind this fanfic. Credits to her for coming up with "bloodcist" and a few other Next Generation canons that I made come alive.

I was inspired by this post: expressopatronum on Tumblr post/75570422677/oh-my-magical-next-gen-i-dont-know-why-i-started

I

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy

Draco Malfoy glanced at his son approvingly. The manners, the black suit and tie, the eloquence, and the smirk, yes the smirk, was all there. The dominant Malfoy characteristics had all passed on to his young son, his only son, and regarding Astoria's age, his only child.

"Scorpius, you do know you're starting Hogwarts in another month."

"Yes, father." Draco's brow crinkled. He did not want to give his son the talk, just yet. Oh, not that talk. This talk was regarding the Second Wizarding War, his own role in it, and the scarring of the Malfoy name. At times, he wished Scorpius could have taken his mother's maiden name. Despite his strikingly similar features to a Malfoy (except the eyes, he had electric blue eyes with a hint of Draco's pale grey), Draco felt that the name of Greengrass would fare him better than the despised name of Malfoy.

"Do you…remember the Second Wizarding War? The stories I told you?" Draco, as any parent to his first child, had no idea on how to approach a sensitive subject.

The child's blue eyes blinked. He put his fork and knife back on the table with a slight clang. Draco could almost detect a hint of impatience. "Father, I know."

Draco dropped his fork in his food and stood up with a clang. His chair and fallen over and the house elves rushed in to push it back in place. "You…you…what?" He had grown as pale as his porcelain hair.

"Father, I know what you did. I'm not an idiot. I'm 11 years old. You might as well have left the entire Malfoy Manor open for me to explore and listen on in your conversations with Mum…I mean, Mother." Scorpius took his fork and began to suddenly take interest in a piece of broccoli.

Draco stared at his son. Scorpius had never sounded this serious before. He almost sounded…intelligent. Draco had never assumed his son to be intelligent, wrapped in the bubble of the Malfoy Manor. Of course he was book smart, he had to be. But worldly, culturally smart? That was surprising.

"Also, you do know that the Daily Prophet have opened up a webpage on the Muggle Interwebs? Even that wretched lady almost everyone in the wizarding world despises, Rita Skeeter, is online." Scorpius continued, picking up a piece of salad and placing it in his mouth.

Draco muttered something about the blasted 21st century and the popularity of Muggle culture. About five years ago, the Wizarding World began using these strange Apple products and purchasing it from Muggles. Then, the Ministry of Magic decided to open a Department of Wizardwebs. Next thing you know, the next generation was polluted with these devices called "smartphones", as if phones could be smart, silly Muggles. All these things made Draco's head hurt, but it seemed as if Scorpius had no problem in understanding them.

"Kids these days…" Draco ran his hand over his blonde hair and left to go to the loo. He splashed water on his face and looked intently in the mirror. Despite his now prominent wrinkles, he was growing a light beard and kept his hair short. He did not want to appear as the next Lucius Malfoy.

"Draco, dear, are you all right?" His wife entered and flipped the light switches on. Draco toweled his face off and returned to his seat at the head of the table. Astoria took the seat next to Scorpius.

He blinked and shut his eyes. He took the handkerchief from the table and folded it within his fist. "Astoria…Did you ever tell Scorp?" Draco slowly opened his eyes and saw Scorpius and Astoria exchange glances. Scorpius touched his mother's arm gently as if to say 'go on'. The sly handsome little twit. As if he wasn't the same at that age.

Draco's head turned toward Astoria as she responded. "Well…I don't know how to tell you this Draco, but yes. In fact, Scorp inquired ab-"

Draco slammed the table with his fist and released the handkerchief. "BLOODY HELL, ASTORIA. What does he think of me now? What does he think OF OUR FAMILY NOW? First, you got him into all this Muggle nonsense by taking him to these 'shopping centres' with your half-blood friends and n-"

"Father, no offense, but do you have to be so damned bloody bloodcist?" Draco froze as his son removed himself from the table and neatly placed his handkerchief on the table. His mouth refused to make a sound, but what in living hell did his son just call him?

It took a good ten seconds for Draco to utter back…"Blo…blood…bloodcist?"

In these ten seconds of silence, Scorpius had already removed his tie, dress shirt, and blazer. He then proceeded to put on one of the ugliest articles of clothing Draco had ever witnessed in his life: a checkered flannel that he promptly wore under his nicely tailored black blazer. The flannel looked like something one of the Weasleys would wear.

Scorpius tugged on his flannel to straighten it out. "Father, Muggles have this strange thing where they despise an individual because of their skin color. That's apparently called being racist. Aren't you slightly the same with bloodlines?"

"Scorp-" Astoria put a hand on her son's shoulder.

"Mum, he needs to GET IT or else I will go mental. This isn't 1995 or whatever Father, with all due respect." Scorpius looked conflicted and almost afraid. But his electric blue eyes met Draco's grey steely gaze.

That was when Draco realized something. His own spawn had more guts than his spindly arse at 11 years of age. His own son was not afraid to retaliate to something he did not agree with. Scorpius did not worship his father's "you will do as I say" nor his every word. His son was a little rebellious devil. And this should've promptly worried him, but inside his mind, he smiled. He smiled because his son possessed something he lacked most of his life: a sense of self-righteousness and courage.

Draco's tone lightened. "Scorp, do you want to go fly for a bit?"

Scorpius and Astoria looked taken aback at this. "Erm..okay… I mean, yes Father. I'll go change into Quidditch gear."

"And Scorpius…" Draco hesitated before the boy entered his own room. "You don't have to call me Father in the house, is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Fa-… Dad."