So I got my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard (which, coincidentally, I don't own, so the stories in here? They ain't mine. Don't sue) and reading Dumbledore's commentary, I came across the one that said that most anti- Muggle families would have told their children the revised version, and this came to mind. I don't usually like stories where Draco and Ginny are married with children, but I had to make it this way for it to work. So yeah.
Btw, I can't see Ginny letting Draco name their son Scorpius, but I'm sick and not very creative, so whatever.
"The pop burped out the single slipper he had thrown into it, and permitted him to fit it on to the brass foot. Together, they set off back to the wizard's house, the pot's footstep muffled at last. But from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper, and begin to hop once more."
Ginny finished the story she had had memorized since the time she was nine years old. Her son's grey eyes stared up at her. "So... so that means if I'm not nice to Muggles, a pot will follow me around, burping slugs and crying?" He looked downright terrified by that thought. Ginny laughed and put a hand on his head.
"I think you're reading into this a little too literally. It just means to be nice to Muggles. Just because you can do magic, it doesn't mean you can treat them like scum. Understand?"
He nodded solemnly. "Don't worry. I like Muggles. There's a little girl at the park who's really nice, and I know she has no magic because when I pushed her down, nothing happened."
Ginny stared blankly at her son. Then she stood up. "Scorpius! That is wrong! Don't push anybody down, okay? You never put your hands on another person!"
Scorpius looked sheepishly up at her. "But Daddy puts his hands on you all the time, and you never said anything, so I thought that it was okay..."
Ginny blushed a deep shade of red, and from his post at the door, Draco burst into laughter. Ginny kissed her son on the head and exited the room, walking right past her husband.
"He's just like his father," he smirked.
"I know. It's a crying shame, really," Ginny threw over her shoulder. Draco jogged to catch up to her, turning her around and pressing her up against the wall.
"Come on. He already knows about me putting my hands on you. We might as well, right?"
Ginny laughed against his lips. "Your logic is pretty faulty."
The kissed for a while, until finally Ginny pulled away.
"Come on. You have to help me clean. My brother is coming tomorrow."
Draco sighed, his hand falling on her hip. "Don't remind me."
He was just about to go take a seat when he remembered something. He turned to Ginny.
"Hey, what was that story you were telling Scorpius?" He asked, his handsome face looking confused. Ginny turned to him, taking her eyes off the broom currently parading around the room.
"That story? You should know that story. It was 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.'"
At that, Draco burst out into laughter. "That wasn't 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot'!" He cried, shaking his head as if Ginny had just told him the sky was yellow.
Ginny gave him a look as if he was telling her the sky wasn't blue. "Yes it was."
He gave her a very condescending look. "No it wasn't, Gin."
Ginny gave her husband a look. "Draco, I know for a fact that that was 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot'. I would be willing to bet galleons on it. Now, what I want to know is, what do you think 'The Wizard and the Hopping Pot' is?"
Draco gave her a long look, decided she was serious, and then sat down. He patted the spot next to him. Ginny stayed standing. He just shrugged and continued.
"In the real story, the Hopping Pot protects the wizard from the mad, torch-bearing, pitchfork carrying maniacal Muggles by hopping after them, and then he swallows them whole. Then, a few of the Muggles who have escaped the Pot tell the wizard that he will be left in peace and that he can practice magic and they won't bother him, so the Pot burps out all the Muggles."
Ginny looked at him, and then burst into laughter.
"Is that what you were told as a child?" She asked him incredulously. Draco nodded. Ginny took a step forward and knelt beside him on the couch, taking his head in her hands.
"Draco," she said seriously. "You were lied to."
"What are you talking about?"
She sat back, shaking her head. "You were lied to. That's not how the story is. Beedle the Bard would never have written a story like that. He was very pro Muggle."
Draco stared up at her. "I don't... that doesn't make sense. My father always told me my version!"
Ginny laughed, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. "Well, your father would. Your family was very anti- Muggle. He wouldn't want to be telling you any pro- Muggle stories."
Draco leaned against the couch. "That explains the letter I found from Dumbledore in my father's study when I was young," Draco explained. At Ginny's questioning look, he went on.
"It said something about how all pure-blood families have Muggle blood on their trees, and that he wouldn't remove a book because it taught about wizard-Muggle marriages."
Ginny smiled. "Maybe I should have just told Scorpius Beatrix Bloxam's version," she mused. At his look, she recited, perfectly,
"Then the little golden pot danced with delight- hoppitty hoppitty hop!- on its tiny rosy toes. Wee Willykins had cured all the dollies of their poorly tum-tums, and the little pot was so happy that it filled up with sweeties for Wee Willykinds and the dollies!
"'But don't forget to brush your teethy-pegs!' cried the pot.
"And Wee Willykins kissed and huggled the hoppitty pot and promised always to help the dollies and never to be an old grumpy-wumpkins again."
Draco stared at her. "Why do you know that?"
She shrugged. "Fred and George told me that in order to get into Hogwarts, I had to recite it. I spent the whole day before I left reciting it over and over until I had it memorized."
Draco shook his head. "I think I like my version better then that."
Ginny grimaced. "So do I."
Then she smiled and kissed him, and just as he was about to relocate them to their bedroom, Scorpius came back out again.
"Mum? Can you tell me another story?"
Ginny disentangled herself from her husband and then followed her son into his bedroom, while Draco followed, determined to find out what other stories his father had lied about.
Can't you just picture Lucius leaning over his son, saying, 'AND THEN THE POT ATE ALL THE MUGGLES, OM NOM NOM'? -evil face and maniacal laughter- 'Cause I totally can.