Scorpius Malfoy studied his appearance carefully in the mirror. This morning he had gelled his curly, white blond hair back in the fashion of his father and chosen slate, gray robes that matched a set of his father's.
All in all he looked like a respectable adult. His father would not look at him and see a boy- he would see a man capable of making sound decisions. And if he didn't he would tell him to bugger off and go to his Granddad instead. And if Granddad disagreed he would go Gran who would browbeat them both into compliance, Scorpius thought with a wry grin.
"Well, how do I look Abraxis?" He asked the painting of his great-grandfather, whose portrait rested outside of his father's office and next to the ebony mirror he had been studying himself in a moment ago.
"Like a coward," The blond man huffed. "Draco's soft, always has been. Why are you quavering outside of his door? Boy's never laid a hand on you, doesn't even lecture strenuously."
Scorpius cast the painting an aggravated look and approached his father's door. "Good boy, there's that Malfoy blood." He heard as he shut the walnut wood door.
"Hello Father." Draco Malfoy was sitting at a centuries old desk overlooking a thick stack of paperwork with a wrinkled brow and nodded briefly at his son. "Is that too important for you to put down for a moment?" He ventured warily.
"The real question: is whatever you want important enough?" But Draco was already laying down the paperwork. "What can I assist you with?"
"I want the Malfoy ring." Scorpius was sure that if hadn't felt so nervous he was sick with it he would have been amused by the sight of his father's stunned look.
"Why?" His father had yet to regain his composure and his mouth was hanging down in a fish-like way.
"I'm in love and I want her as my wife." He said lowly with a quiet strength that Draco had never noticed before.
But nonetheless- "Your seventeen years old and have never dated anyone seriously, you are in lust. You don't want the girl as your wife; you want her in your bed. Another matter, where do you intend to keep this wife of yours, your single bed in your dorm room?"
Scorpius stood up furiously. "I've been in enough broom cupboards to know the damned difference between love and lust!"
Draco got to his feet. "Who is this damnable girl?"
"Rose Weasley and she's not that damnable girl, she's the love of my life." Scorpius retorted. "And we're going to get married and have lots of red headed kids."
Draco didn't know where to go with that. "How many?" He finally blurted out. He, himself, had intended to have more than one child; however, like most purebloods it was beyond his reach. However, grandchildren might not be… and that thought was appealing enough to overcome whatever childish part of him might be opposed to the daughter of his childhood nemesis marrying his beloved, only son. It would even make his ideals about blood purity settle; she was a half-blood after all and probably quite the smart, fertile witch.
"I dunno," Scorpius ran a hair through his hair, the gel making it stick in odd directions. "We haven't really talked about that…but she likes kids, she's really good with her cousin Victorie's kids. We'll wait a few years anyways, maybe."
"As long as you make sure there are children." Draco insisted.
"I'll give you four if you just give me that damned ring." Scorpius muttered with frustration. "Wizarding oath."
Draco grinned showing white teeth. "I'll hold you to that. We'll go to Gringott's right away. Say, have you asked Ron Weasley yet, you really ought to…"
And that was how Scorpius Malfoy told his father that he was marrying a Weasley. This is also the explanation for how come Rose Malfoy was heard to be cursing Draco Malfoy as she was in labor with the couple's fourth child. In a roundabout way it is also the lead-in to the story of how Scorpius Malfoy broke his nose.