Disclaimer: Not mine, don't own it—I wish! Unfortunately, Harry Potter belongs to JKR; I'm just playing in her sandbox.

.o.O.o.

I had this scene in the back of my mind for a while and was waiting until I started writing an appropriate story to use it, but while I'm quite happy to read HG/DM stories, I've never been inspired to write one myself, so I decided to write this as a one-shot instead. Draco and Hermione are discussing possible names for their first child. Canon to the end of the Final Battle. No Epilogue or Cursed Child.

Personally, regardless of wizarding naming traditions in the world of Potter and irrespective of the fact many names in that world are unusual by Muggle standard (seriously, how on earth did Eileen Prince Snape get away with calling her son Severus in a small, northern, Muggle industrial town in the 1960s?!) I can't stand the name Scorpius. I know a lot of people dislike Hugo, but to me, Scorpius is infinitely worse. I don't know what the poor kid did to deserve a name like that! It always amuses me when people write Hermione/Draco fics and use Draco-canon for their son's name (Scorpius) rather than Hermione-canon (Hugo) and her Muggle family, despite having no idea she's a witch and knowing nothing about wizarding names, never questions why she'd give her son such a bizarre name.

.o.O.o.

"Scorpius?" asked Hermione Malfoy incredulously, her face screwed up in distaste.

"You agreed to name our child in the Black family tradition," Draco reminded his wife with a huff.

"Yes, but I didn't agree to Scorpius!" she retorted.

"Well, why not? What's wrong with Scorpius?" Draco pouted.

"Draco," Hermione said gently. "I'm perfectly happy for our children to have astronomical names, but I need them to sound normal to Muggle ears. I need my parents to be able to talk about their grandchildren. I can just imagine the reaction of people if Mum and Dad say their grandson is called Scorpius!"

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione got in first. "Your grandson is called Scorpius?!" she mocked incredulously. "Really?! What a strange name! How peculiar! Why on earth would your daughter call her son something so weird?!"

Hermione's performance made Draco pause. Although, realistically speaking, he knew his children would spend most of their time in the magical world, he could not bear the thought of them ever being mocked, or worse, bullied, because of their names. Not when it was something he had the power to prevent.

Seeing that Draco was coming around to her point of view, Hermione pressed her advantage. "Those were the mildest things people said about my name, and Hermione isn't completely unknown in the Muggle world. It's important we give our children names they can live with in both worlds," she said persuasively and, at that, Draco nodded in agreement.

"All right," he sighed. "What do you suggest?"

Hermione's eyes lit up as she began to expound enthusiastically. "There are some astronomical names that are perfectly acceptable in the Muggle world. Looking at the girls' names first: Maia would probably be my first choice. Lyra would have been almost unknown a few years ago, but it's becoming better known now because it's the name of the main character in a trilogy of books¹ that was recently published for young adults, and I quite like it."

"Of course you do if it comes from a book," Draco snorted.

Ignoring the interjection, Hermione ploughed on. "Norma is a fairly well-known name, but it's very old-fashioned and I'd rather not use that name. I'm not sure how well-known Carina is, but it sounds normal to Muggle ears. Cassiopeia isn't really used, but if we chose that name, we could simply call her Cassie in the Muggle world, and that wouldn't be questioned. Or there's Tania Borealis and Tania Australis in the Ursa Major constellation. Tania is very well-known, although it's not really my taste. There's also all the moons in our solar system, some of which even have Shakespearean names like I do."

Hermione said all this in practically one breath, and Draco began to laugh. Placing a hand over her mouth to interrupt the flow, he asked, "What are your top girls' names?"

"For planetary names, Maia or Lyra. For moons, any of Larissa, Miranda, Phoebe, Rhea or Rosalind," Hermione replied promptly. "What do you think?"

"I like all of those names" Draco agreed affably. "What about boys' names? What do you like for a boy?"

"What do you like?" Hermione retorted. "It shouldn't only be about what I like."

"I specified that our children should have astronomical names, so you get to choose the actual names. That's fair," Draco assured his wife. "Besides, I don't know what will sound normal in the Muggle world. Don't worry," he reassured her when he saw her screw up her face in worry, "if I don't like a name you suggest, I'll let you know."

Hermione examined her husband's face closely to be sure he really meant that and huffed in frustration. "I wish you Slytherins weren't always so inscrutable," she complained, making her husband laugh again.

"Come on, tell me what boys' names you like," he encouraged her.

"Well,"she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "There's Leo…" It was Hermione's turn to laugh as disgust flashed across Draco's face. "Too Gryffindor for you?" she teased. "Perhaps Lynx would be a better compromise? Phoenix is also used as both a boy's or a girl's name, although Phoenix and Lynx are a bit hippie for me."

"Hippie? What's does a name have to do with your hips?" Draco asked in confusion and Hermione laughed again.

"Hippie is the name of a movement that began in the United States in the late 1960s. Think of Muggle Luna Lovegoods," she explained, deciding to keep it simple.

"That makes sense," Draco nodded as a degree of understanding dawned upon him. "I can easily see Luna choosing to use a name like Lynx or Phoenix."

"There aren't as many astronomical boys' names that will sound normal to English-speaking Muggles, but there are some that are very uncommon but not unknown," Hermione returned to the original subject. "Oberon, which is Shakespearean, is the name of a moon, or Orion. Alternatively, perhaps we could use the English equivalent of a Latin name? Corbin instead of Corvus? Or Colum instead of Columba," she suggested, looking at Draco inquiringly.

Draco tried not to frown. "I'd prefer we not change the names like that," he said slowly. "I'm okay with using diminutives like Cassie with your family and your parents' friends, but I'd like to keep to the proper astronomical names—if you don't mind?"

Hermione nodded, unsurprised. "I thought you might feel that way," she commented neutrally, although she thought it had been quite a good compromise suggestion. "In that case, I think I'd like to use Regulus," she said thoughtfully. "If we called him Reg or Reggie in the Muggle world, people would just assume his name is Reginald. Old-fashioned but not unknown. Either that, or they'd think his name is actually Reggie, because names that are really diminutives are beginning to be used as names in their own right. Regulus rejected Voldemort, you know, and died horribly for it, while trying to stop him."

"I do know," Draco replied. After the war, Harry Potter had ensured Sirius Black's name had been cleared, and at the same time, he had made a point of making Regulus Black's betrayal of the Dark Lord known. "I think my mother would like that," he added. Narcissa Malfoy had been fond of her youngest cousin and had been devastated to learn the true manner of his death after the war.

"I think Sirius would like it, too," Hermione added. "Of course, he didn't know the truth about Regulus before he died, but I'm sure he does in the Afterlife."

"Well, I didn't know my cousin, so I'll have to take your word about that," Draco conceded. "You don't want to name a boy Sirius?"

"No, Harry will do that," Hermione replied decisively, having absolutely no doubt whatsoever about that. She'd even felt closer to Colin Creevey than she had to Sirius! "I wouldn't mind naming a child after Phineas Nigellus, though. Despite his opinion of Muggleborns, I've actually become quite fond of him and, again, Phineas isn't unknown in the Muggle world."

Draco laughed. He had been witness to some of the spirited exchanges between his wife and the painting of his ancestor.

"There's also Professor Snape. Severus wouldn't work in the Muggle world, not even as a second name, so perhaps Tobias instead? Wasn't he Severus Tobias Snape? I know Professor Snape didn't like his father, but if we use Tobias it would be in his honour, not his father's." When all was said and done, Hermione hadn't really been close enough to Sirius to feel a need to name a child after him. In truth, she had been no closer to Severus Snape, but she was in no doubt that the latter had spent years protecting Harry, Ron, Draco and herself, and she knew he had done more than almost anyone else to bring about the defeat of Voldemort. She would freely admit her late Professor had been a deeply unpleasant, bitter, nasty man, and a bully in his teaching capacity besides, but she still felt sad that he had never, from childhood to death, had a happy life. Personally, she thought he was owed as much honour as Harry Potter was, and she knew that Harry and Draco both agreed.

And so it was. Draco and Hermione Malfoy had four children: two boys and two girls, named Regulus Oberon (known as Reggie); Maia Dora—in honour of Nymphadora Tonks, who had tolerated being called Dora by her husband, even though she had hated her full name; Rosalind Lyra; and Phineas Tobias (known as Finn). Lucius and Narcissa were delighted Draco and Hermione had chosen to follow Black naming traditions, while Hermione's parents were equally happy that the children all had names that were just as acceptable in the Muggle world as they were in the Wizarding world.

.o.O.o.

¹ His Dark Materials trilogy, by Philip Pullman (1995, 1997, 2000)

² I know we don't actually know Snape's canon middle name—if he has one—but I'm going with the fanon idea that, as per wizarding naming tradition, his middle name will be his father's name, even though Hermione and Draco aren't actually using that particular tradition themselves.