"So," Harry begins, looking at Ginny's belly, fat . . . err, round that is, with pregnancy. "I'm thinking we could name this one James Sirius. After my dad and my godfather."

Ginny's forehead wrinkles adorably in contemplation. "I don't know, Harry. Isn't it kind of morbid to name a kid after a dead person?"

"It's a perfectly respectable thing to do!" Harry exclaims. "All of the old pureblood families do it! Sirius was like Sirius number eight or something."

"I don't know Harry. It just seems kind of weird is all."

Harry sits back for a minute and thinks, considering Ginny's points. It's true that it could be a bit odd to name their kid after a dead person. And he wants more than one child. What would he name the other kids? Severus? Ha! Lily? What if people started seeing Harry's kids as carbon copies of his parents? His children should get to be their own people without being compared to anyone else!

Harry is still thinking, when, suddenly, it hits him.

"You're right, Ginny. That would be weird. But don't worry, I have the perfect solution!"

"Okay . . . " she replies cautiously.

"What better way to insult my greatest enemy than to mess with his name and give the jumbled up versions to my children?" Harry grins, a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

Ginny is, by now, understandably wary. "I'm not sure I see where you're going with this . . . "

"Isn't it obvious?" Harry cackles, "Our eventual children's names will be –" He pauses for emphasis, "Voldemrot, Voldemoop, and Voldemroot!"

"Harry, I really don't think –"

"And we can call them Rot, Moop, and Root for short! It's perfect!"

"Harry, this really doesn't seem – "

"I can't wait until I get the chance to name my first born son after my greatest enemy! And what kid doesn't want to be named Voldemrot? And his middle name could be Marvaloo. Gettit? Cause it's like Marvolo but if the name was a toilet brand!"

Finally, Ginny has had enough. "HARRY JAMES POTTER YOU ARE NOT NAMING OUR CHILDREN AFTER VOLDEMORT!"

Harry flinches in surprise but quickly regains his previous excitement. "Just think about it, Ginny. It's the greatest insult we could give Old Snakeface. He'd be horrified to know his name is continued on in the Potter and Weasley line." He pats Ginny's stomach fondly. "And I know Rot will grow up to be a great wizard, firmly on the side of the Light."

"MY SON WILL NOT BE NAMED ROT!" Ginny shrieks.

"Don't worry Ginny," Harrys says placatingly, "I'm sure it'll grow on you."

Eleven Years Later:

A young boy with messy black hair and mischievous hazel eyes skips through Diagon Alley, brimming with excitement. He looks up at a man beside him with a grin. "I'm finally getting my wand, Dad!"

Harry smiles down at his son fondly. "I'm sure you'll use it well."

The bell jingles as they stride into Ollivander's shop, the man in question not appearing to have aged past a day since Harry himself was eleven.

"Aah, yes, Harry Potter," he murmurs, "Holly and phoenix feather. I predicted greatness from you, Mr. Potter, and I was not disappointed."

"Thank you," Harry smiles, "But I'm afraid my glory days are far behind me. I'm here with my son to get his wand."

He puts his hand on said son's shoulder.

Ollivander finally turns his gaze from Harry and grimaces slightly. "Aah yes . . . " He pauses, grinding his teeth slightly, "Voldemrot Marvaloo Potter, here for his first wand."

"My friends call me Rot," Rot responds proudly.

"Of course, Mr. . . . Rot," Ollivander replies, looking faintly ill. He turns back to Harry. "Tell me Mr. Potter, are all of your other children named as . . . interestingly as this one?"

Harry sighs. "No, unfortunately. I had great names planned out for them too! But Ginny said I could only have the first one and she made me promise to let her name the other two."

Harry thinks he hears Ollivander mutter a fervent "Thank Merlin" under his breath but surely he's mistaken.

"I don't see why she got to name them!" Harry continues indignantly, "She's terrible at names herself!"

"May I inquire as to the names of your other two children?" Ollivander asks, looking faintly apprehensive.

"Yeah, our second son is Endoplasmic Mascara Potter (Ginny was taking muggle biology classes at the time and working at some store called Sephora) and my baby girl is named Liverfailure Falafel Potter. We call them Plasmy and Liver for short."

Ollivander vomits on the floor. "No one should have ever let the two of you have children."

"Hey! I'll have you know we're great parents!" Harry replies.

"Yeah!" Rot agrees, "Dad lets me come with him every year to Voldemort's gravesite to spit on his remains. And he bought me my own broom. He's the best dad ever!"

Ollivander does not respond, having passed out at this point. (He's probably better off for it).

"Well Rot," Harry says, looking at Ollivander's prone form, "I guess we'll have to find you a wand ourselves."

"Okay, Dad. What do we do?"

Harry looks thoughtful for a minute, when, suddenly, a stroke of inspiration hits. "Eureka!" He exclaims, "I still have Voldemort's old wand as a spoil of war! I bet it'll be perfect for you! And then we'll have matching cores! Talk about father-son bonding!"

"Great idea, Dad! Let's go get it right now!"

And with that, Father and Son apparate out of Diagon Alley with an ominous crack.

Scorpius Malfoy crawls out of the cabinet in Ollivander's shop where his father shoved him upon seeing the Potters approaching.

"Father, the Potter's are insane, aren't they?"

"Yes Son," Draco Malfoy replies gravely, crawling out of his own cabinet, "And that is why if you ever see one you must either hide or run in the opposite direction. If those names are what they did to their kids, imagine what they would do to a Malfoy."

Scorpius pales. "I understand. I'll avoid them."

The two Malfoys move on to their next store, both feeling as though they've just narrowly escaped a terrible fate.

"Thank Merlin my family is sane," Scorpius murmurs to himself.

Just then, Astoria Malfoy nee Greengrass runs up to her husband from the robe shop. "Darling," she purrs in Draco's ear, "I'm going to be adding another three men to my Harem. You remember Theodore Nott, don't you? And Blaise Zabini? And that lovely man we met on our honeymoon?"

"Yes, Darling," Draco says, smiling strainedly at his wife who has twenty men, and counting, in her harem. That's what he gets for marrying a half-succubus.

Scorpius watches this perfectly normal exchange between his mother and father impatiently. He really wants to buy his books and go home. Again, he thanks his lucky stars that he got a nice, sane family.

Watching from behind a brick wall, Rose, the daughter of Ron and Hermione Weasley, eyes Scorpius hungrily and pulls a bottle of chloroform out of her mokeskin bag. Mom always said it wasn't kidnapping if it was For Science! after all, and the unnatural blondness so prevalent in the Malfoy line has to be some sort of magical mutation.

Plus, after she has the Malfoy son in her possession, she can use him as leverage to get the mother. Her mom's birthday is coming up in a month, and Rose knows she'll love getting a half-succubus to experiment on . . . err research, that is.

A/N: So this is supposed to be just a funny oneshot from an idea that popped into my head, but if anyone really likes it, I wouldn't be averse to turning it into a full-fledged crack fic or a series of funny oneshots over the years of all the members of the second generation. PLEASE REVIEW with long and detailed reviews as though you were writing an English paper. I'd love you forever and ever and ever and if it's really good I will respond to you specifically. Hope you enjoyed it!