A/N: My beta really wanted a next generation addition to this AU, so here we are. Please note that, in accordance with the chapter before this, Harry and Ginny decided not to inflict the name of Albus Severus on one of their children. Instead, he's Regulus.

For his sake, let's hope that decided against keeping Ignatius as the middle name.

Teddy had ducked into the living room to get away from the pre-dinner chaos in the kitchen. He was immediately ambushed with pages of brightly colored and nearly totally unidentifiable scribbles that James proudly handed to him from where the boy was sprawled out on the floor.

This was not the first time something like this had happened. Teddy immediately crouched down in front of James while he looked over the pictures. "Cool! What are these?"

James's gap toothed grin was irresistible. "Toys," he said. "I'm going to make 'em all someday." He launched into an excited explanation of his ideas, jabbing a small finger at each blob of color in turn. Gradually, though, his excitement faded and his shoulders slumped. " . . . only I can't draw 'em right," he mumbled, biting his lip. "Not like Dad does. I don't think I'll ever draw as good as Dad does."

"Hey, don't say that," Teddy said immediately. "You just need more practice, that's all."

"Reggie can draw as good as me," James said in disgust. "And he's just a baby."

"He's only two years younger than you," Teddy corrected, but it was true that at James's age that two years seemed like forever. "Anyway, who cares if you can draw if you're coming up with great ideas like this?"

James brightened somewhat. "That's true," he said. "Someone else can take over the drawing if Dad ever gets sick of it." Another idea occurred to him, and he brightened even more. "You can draw, can't you?"

Teddy thought of the sketches of Victoire's face filling the margins of his notes. He was pretty sure his hair turned as red as a Weasley's. "Um, yes," he coughed. "Yes, I can."

"Teddy?"

Teddy glanced up from where he was sketching out a design for the new toy catapults in the workshop at the back of the shop. "What's up?"

Regulus was fidgeting nervously beside his desk. "What if . . . What if I don't want to work here when I grow up?"

Teddy laid his pencil down carefully, eyebrows pinching together. "Then I'm sure you'll be great at whatever you do decide to do. No one's going to try to make you work here, you know."

"But it's the family business," Regulus said miserably. "You work here, and Dad works here, and it's all James and Fred talk about doing . . . "

"Your mom doesn't work here," Teddy pointed out. "She's a reporter. And Fred's mom coaches Quidditch, and the rest of the Weasleys are all over the place. You can do whatever you want to do, Regulus."

Regulus chewed on his lower lip, a bad habit Teddy was pretty sure he'd picked up from James. "You don't think Dad'll be disappointed?"

Fortunately or unfortunately, Harry chose that moment to finish setting up the new display in the store and walk back into the workshop. "Is anyone dead?" he asked.

Regulus jumped. "What? No!"

"Or in Azkaban?"

"No!"

"Then I'm not disappointed." He paused. " . . . Possibly not even if someone was, depending on who. What happened?"

"Uncle Charlie showed me some dragon eggs when we went to visit him," Regulus said. His gaze was firmly locked on Harry's shoes.

Harry winced. "And you . . . stole one?"

Teddy had to shove a fist over his mouth to keep from laughing at the horrified expression on Regulus's face.

"No!"

Harry's shoulders slumped in relief. "Oh, good. Baby dragons are terrible. I still wouldn't have been disappointed," he tacked on hastily. "Since it would have been rather hypocritical of me. But I'm very glad you didn't."

Regulus was now gazing at his father with the wide eyed gaze of someone who was realizing that with all the stories he'd heard about his father's childhood, he still hadn't heard nearly half of it.

Harry scratched the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly. "So, uh. What actually happened?"

"IthinkIwannaworkwithdragons," Regulus blurted out.

Harry blinked. "Come again?"

Regulus shot Teddy a panicked look. Teddy gave him an encouraging nod.

Regulus took a deep, fortifying breath. "I think I want to work with dragons. And I know I've still got lots of time to change my mind, and I shouldn't set my heart on anything yet, but this is the first time I've thought about doing anything other than working here, and I know it might not be what you wanted - "

"I think that's great," Harry interrupted. "Have you talked to Charlie about what classes you should sign up for?"

Regulus gaped at him. "You're not mad?"

Harry froze for a split second, something that Teddy had never seen him do in the rare instances there was real danger, but that as Teddy had grown older he had grown to suspect Harry did whenever he was afraid he had missed something obvious as a parent.

"Oh. Well, it is rather dangerous, I suppose," Harry said helplessly. "But it's not as if you're saying you want to run off and work with them right now without getting any proper training . . . "

The truth of his father's complete lack of disappointment finally seemed to soak in for Regulus. He lurched forward to wrap his arms around Harry in a tight hug. "You're the best, Dad," he mumbled into his shirt before disappearing into the shop with a flush of adolescent embarrassment.

Harry stayed right where he was with his hands still half raised from the hug. "Am I not supposed to be okay with him working with dragons?"

Teddy shrugged cheerfully. "My parents would have been fine with it," he offered. "I think he was just worried you wanted him to follow in your footsteps. Family business and all that."

"With all the people the Weasleys are related to, I'm not sure there's any business in the Wizarding World this family isn't in," Harry said dryly.

"That's what I said!"

"Do you ever think about the fact that we haven't expanded since the Hogsmeade store opened and that while we offer international shipping, the cost is ridiculously prohibitive?"

Teddy cracked one eye open, ran that sentence through his head three times to let it soak in, and finally accepted that all hope of more sleep was lost with a groan. He forced his head up from where it had been cushioned by his arms in the middle of a workshop table filled with wadded up papers and a few treasured final designs. "Not at three in the morning, I don't. Not without coffee at least."

"It's seven," Lily informed him. "But here." She thrust a thermos at him.

He took it gratefully and drained half of it in one long gulp. The flavor finally hit just as he swallowed. "That tastes like Victoire's."

"It is," Lily informed him. "I went looking for you at your house first. She wanted me to tell you that she understands Christmas is the busy season for you, but that if you don't sleep in a real bed tonight, she's going to drag you home herself."

Teddy blinked, consumed more coffee, and shrugged. "Fair. Although in my defense, I would have gone home last night if - "

"If you hadn't gotten hit with a wonderful idea that couldn't possibly wait," Lily finished for him. "I know."

"If Fred hadn't," Teddy corrected. "I just had to stick around to sketch it out for him. You know his handwriting's like chicken scratch." Brilliant with the mechanics of things, but hopeless at sketching out the plans for them.

"Fred's here?" Lily asked, startled.

The mound of costumes filling up one corner shifted and moaned. A dark head slowly peeked out from beneath a blanket of medieval witches' skirts. "Is it morning?"

"So Lily claims," Teddy said, fending off a yawn with another swig of coffee.

Fred squinted at Lily suspiciously.

"I don't need you, you can go back to sleep."

"Oh, good." He disappeared back into his nest of fake velvet.

"Why does he get to go back to sleep?"

Teddy was aware that he was whining and that as a grown man with a child of his own on the way, he should probably stop. He just couldn't quite bring himself to.

"Because he doesn't follow the papers," Lily said briskly. "You do, which means that you know about the renegotiated trade agreement with America. It's created a loophole that would make opening a store there more lucrative than it's ever been before, and once we get a foothold - "

Teddy raised his hand. When that didn't get her attention, he started flashing his hair in a quick succession of neon colors.

Lily ground to a stop. "Yes?"

"Why are you bringing this to me? Isn't this something for the old crowd?"

The old crowd was Uncle Sirius, Harry, George, and his own father. They were the ones currently holding shares in the store instead of just getting paid a generous salary.

A rare moment of vulnerability flickered across Lily's face as she deflated. "Yes," she admitted. "I just . . . wanted to try the pitch on you first. To make sure it didn't sound stupid."

To make sure I didn't sound stupid was pretty clearly implied.

Teddy blinked. "Of course it won't sound stupid," he said. "If you haven't already researched and rehearsed this six ways to Sunday, I'm a niffler's cousin. You'll do great."

Lily relaxed, just a bit. "Can I practice it anyway?" she asked. "I brought more coffee." She pulled the offered thermos out of a purse that looked much too small to hold it.

"You are a stunningly wonderful person," Teddy said with heartfelt sincerity as he snatched it up. "Fire away."