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NINETEEN YEARS LATER
«Severus, slow down! And don’t even think about straying from us!» He grumbled in annoyance as he straightened the little jacket.
That child was the joy and pride of Draco Malfoy: the blondest hair and the intelligence of the Malfoys, the soft and chubby physique typical of childhood, and emeralds for eyes, stolen from the other branch of the family.
His pale hands ran frantically over the child's impeccable uniform, smoothing out nonexistent imperfections.
A pair of slightly darker hands caught them, pulling them away. «Draco, darling, let him go play with Rosie.»
Draco huffed, leaving a soft pat on Severus’s cheek. «Go on, little one.»
The child hurried off to join Rose Weasley before his father could stop him again. «I really don’t understand where he got his... passion for the Weasleys.»
Harry burst out laughing, holding little Scorpius close. Wrapped in delicate cream-colored blankets, the baby watched his fathers with his cloud-colored eyes. «I don’t know, love,» he replied, holding the eight-month-old baby tighter in his blankets to shield him from the cold breeze sweeping across the platform.
Ron and Hermione Weasley approached them. A little red head was resting gently on Ron’s shoulder—Hugo Weasley was clinging to his father’s back, staring at the station with a bored expression.
«Unca Hally!» he shouted, waving his arms excitedly from his perch. He was utterly infatuated with the Savior of the Wizarding World, seeing in him the hero of both worlds — “the only man capable of saving the world from the baddies ”.
«Hugo, be careful!» Hermione scolded, then, after shooting her husband a reproachful look, she greeted her friend with a light pat on the shoulder. «Draco!» she added, embracing the blond man.
«Hermione,» he replied politely. «Weasley,» he continued with a nod, to which Ron responded in kind.
«How's the little one?» Hermione asked, looking at the baby.
«Oh, he’s growing. A little troublemaker, for sure…» Harry muttered while Draco hid a smile.
«Well, if he inherited even a fraction of his fathers' mischief…» Ron began.
«James!» Harry suddenly shouted, cutting him off. «Leave your brother alone!»
James was teasing Severus, most likely showing off in front of some girls.
Draco smirked at his husband. «Let it be, Harry. Sev will deal with him soon enough!»
«…go ahead and tell everyone that I read at night, but don’t complain when people find out that this summer, you were the one calling for Dad in the middle of the night to <em> change your sheets !<em/>»
Laughter erupted around them, making James even angrier.
True to his name, James Sirius Potter loved to joke around, and like his father before him, he had the perfect Gryffindor temperament—much to Professor McGonagall’s dismay. Outwardly, though, he looked like an angel: long blond hair that often rested in a low ponytail, light-colored eyes — an unusual shade of gray that turned green near the pupils — and the lean, athletic build of a busy teenager. Like his father, he was a Prefect; like his dad, he was the best Seeker of his year at Hogwarts.
Scowling, he stomped onto the train, ignoring everyone.
Severus Lucius Potter winked at his father, who returned the gesture with a smirk. Moments later, a loud shout echoed through the station.
«Teddy!» The boy laughed, recognizing the young man who had hoisted him onto his shoulders.
Harry extended his fist, which Ted Remus Lupin bumped with his own before clasping hands in their usual greeting.
«Hey there, little wizard, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at Will’s?»
«Do you think I’d miss seeing my little brother off on his first day at Hogwarts?» Teddy grinned, stretching to hug Draco.
«Ted, you’re freezing. Is this how you go around in this weather?» Draco scolded. Teddy’s hair immediately turned orange, a sign of his embarrassment.
Indeed, the young man was only wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Draco waved his wand, conjuring a warm hoodie over his shoulders.
«Thanks, Dadà.» The man smiled at the old nickname Teddy had given him years ago and pulled him into a side embrace. «And you, little one, what do you say?» he asked, scooping the baby from Harry’s arms and tickling him.
Scorpius Hyperion Potter’s laughter filled the platform, just moments before a whistle drowned it out.
Taking advantage of Teddy’s distraction, Harry knelt down to embrace his son. «Have fun, sweetheart.»
«And get sorted into Slytherin!» Draco added.
«Ignore your dad, Sev. Remember, the brave ones maybe are Gryffindors, the wise ones maybe are Ravenclaws, but your father and your Auntie are proof that there are exceptions. Don’t let yourself be swayed by prejudices…»
«…and don’t even think about getting sorted into Hufflepuff!» Draco interrupted again.
«Don’t worry,» Harry whispered so only his son could hear. «Think positively, and you’ll see — the Hat will listen to you.»
«The Hat will listen to me?» Severus asked, astonished.
«Of course. It listened to me. I have no doubt it will listen to you too.» Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead. «Now go, because we don’t have any more flying cars, right, Ron?»
Ron, Hermione, and Draco chuckled, while the child eyed them suspiciously.
«I’ll tell you everything over Christmas break, I promise.»
«Good luck, little one. Make the Malfoy name proud.»
«Draco, he’s a Potter!» Harry said matter-of-factly.
«He’s got Malfoy blood, Potty. Your Mudblood genes don’t count!» Draco retorted, exasperated.
Another whistle cut their bickering short. Rose Weasley and Severus Lucius Potter clasped hands and boarded the train.
Harry wrapped an arm around Draco as they waved goodbye to their second son.
Lowering his hand, Harry brushed his lightning-shaped scar. As the train disappeared over the horizon, Draco turned to him with an indulgent smile.
«Does it bother you, love?»
«No,» he replied. And it was true. It had been nineteen years since the scar had last caused him pain.