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Draco had just settled down with his book when a loud tap tap tap broke the quiet of the room. Marking his place Draco walked over to the window and opened it as an owl hopped through the window, and stuck out its leg in a rather bored fashion for Draco to untie the rolled up parchment.
“Who is it from?” Harry called out, not looking up from his magazine.
“The school,” that got his attention, tossing the magazine aside he walked over to Draco.
“Merlin, what have they done now?” he grumbled, wishing, not for the first time, that his twins and the Weasley twins were not quite so chummy. They were good boys but boys will be boys, as Molly Weasley liked to tell them.
“McGonagall has requested our presence at our earliest convenience,” Draco replied, which didn’t tell Harry anything. Irritated he read the note over his husband’s shoulder.
“Bloody hell, it's on official Hogwarts stationary,” he said shocked, all their other notes about the boy’s misbehaviour had just been a short handwritten note.
“Tomorrow at nine?” Draco asked rereading the note. He felt Harry’s affirmative nod against his shoulder, scribbled their acceptance on the bottom of the note, re-tied it to the owl’s leg, and let it out again.
Nine o’clock the next morning saw them back in McGonagall’s office, and she did not look pleased to see them. Harry tried not to smirk at the wink Dumbledore’s portrait sent him or the scowl on Snape’s face. Some things never changed.
“Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. I’d like to say it's a pleasure, but that is not the case. Misters Potter-Malfoy have been restricted to their dorms for fighting. I’ve called you in as two boys are in the hospital wing.”
“Are James and Scorpius alright Professor?” Harry asked his first concern for his sons.
“Yes Harry, they are fine. A little beaten up but your sons are far better fighters than the two seventh years they put in the hospital wing.”
“Seventh years!” Draco said astonished “They’re only fourth years.” he wasn’t sure if he managed to keep the pride out of his voice, by the look McGonagall gave him, he doubted it.
“Yes, Mr Malfoy, fourth years who put two boys in the hospital wing.” she snapped, at the end of her patience. Before she could continue there was a knock on the door and the two boys in question walked in. James was sporting an impressive black eye, and Scorpius had a split lip.
“Dad, Papa” they exclaimed horrified to find their fathers in Headmistress McGonagall's office on a bright sunny Tuesday morning. Before the boys could even start on the string of excuses Draco had no doubt was forthcoming he cut them off.
“What the hell did you think you were doing?” he snapped at them in a tone that reminded Minerva very much of Lucius Malfoy. “Fighting is not the answer; we taught you better than that.”
“Yes, but Papa,” James started only to be cut off with a stern glare from Draco.
“Don’t you but Papa me James Sirius, explain yourselves now!” Through the babble of the boys talking over each other, the whole story eventually came out.
“You always taught us to stand up for what's right Dad, like you did,” Scorpius said not backing down from his father's disapproval.
“I know Scorpius but we aren’t at war any longer, and you can’t go around putting boys in the hospital who disapprove of your Papa and me.” Scorpius wiggled free.
“Are the other boys still in the hospital wing Professor?” Harry asked, his hand on Scorpius’ shoulder.
“Yes, Harry” clearly by her tone she was just as confused as the boys were.
“Good, time for an apology boys. Lead the way I’m sure you know where the hospital wing is?” the reaction was immediate.
Reluctantly the boys led their fathers down the end of the large room to where two boys were sitting up in bed, a deck of cards between them, which swiftly disappeared when they saw Madam Pomfrey coming towards them.
From what Harry could see their injuries were similar to James and Scorpius yet both boys were in bed. Cowards and bullies Harry rightly pegged them as even though he had no idea who they were. Draco, on the other hand, did.
“Well well well, Thor Rowle and Tobias Flint,” Draco said in a menacing tone. “My sons tell me you have a problem with them?”
“No Sir,” Flint stammered looking at his cohort for support, who refused to look at him but Draco didn’t miss the derogatory slur Rowle muttered under his breath.
"So boys, how are your fathers doing lately? Haven't heard from them in a while." They were not as stupid as Harry pegged them for as both paled at the not so subtle threat.
“Fine Sir,” Rowle replied shortly, clearly not liking where this was heading. Harry had no sympathy for him.
“Now I suggest you spend less time worrying our family life and concentrate on yours, do we have an understanding?” both boys nodded vigorously, clearly not expecting to have to face a former Death Eater and Harry bloody Potter.
“Yes Sir,” both boys stammered, sometimes their reluctant fame could come in very handy.