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“When he eviscerates me, promise to make them write ‘The Boy Who Tried’ on my grave.”
Scorpius snorted.
“Yes, from the tower I’ll be locked in until I’m 80, I will do my best to have your headstone engraved as per your instructions.”
“We could elope. Run off to Romania and have Uncle Charlie officiate.”
“Do dragon breeders have the authority to marry people?”
“They should. If they can give dragons the go-ahead to shag, I don’t see why they can’t with wizards.”
“This is why you weren’t in Ravenclaw.”
“Oi! Neither were y-”
The door to parlor no. 3 of the Malfoy manner burst open to reveal Scorpius’ father- and Albus’ executioner- striding into the room.
“How is he billowing? He’s only wearing a suit,” whispered Albus without daring to take his eyes off his fiancé’s- fiancé! Merlin, I still can’t believe it- approaching father.
“I think he spelled himself to appear billow-y when in proximity to a Potter,” responded Scorbius sotto voce.
Draco Malfoy poured himself a finger of something expensive into a tumbler. Then, nodding slightly in acknowledgement to each:
“Scorpius, spawn of Potter. What is it you wished to discuss with me?”
Epilogue:
“So I was thinking, now that we’re going to be in-laws…”
“Don’t,” growled Draco. Harry continued as if he hadn’t heard, which might have actually been true with the recent onset of his 50s.
“We should have you ‘round for tea sometime. Clear up any lingering ill-will. Gin’d love to set up a regular drinks thing.”
“That sounds horrid. I can think of no worse way to spend an evening than trapped in this hovel.” Harry made a noise of agreement.
“Mm, true. Maybe your place is better. You seem to hate my kitchenware for some reason.”
“You and your ginger Amazon are not setting one foot in the manor!”
“Some of those plates were wedding presents, you know.”
“Goodbye, Potter.”
Draco spun on his heel and swept out the back door, pausing only to grab a spatula off the counter and emphatically drop it on the floor. Alone in the kitchen, Harry whisked the spatula into the sink and charmed the sponge into action.
“Rude.”