Prologue

It was a cold, crisp day in September. Steam poured from the train and filled the platform, blurring the figures of the excited children and their agitated, impatient parents into indistinct, unrecognisable shapes. Owls hooted and squawked loudly and trolleys rattled across the platform. Apparently overwhelmed by the total chaos, Scorpius stood, a little subdued, looking around nervously. Draco watched him, concerned. He hadn't expected his son to be quite so scared. Then again, he hadn't really talked to Scorpius about how he felt about going to Hogwarts. They didn't talk much.

As the steam cleared a little, Draco became aware he was being watched. Turning, he saw Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny staring at him. Several of their children were also gazing at him curiously. Draco nodded at them, then turned away, a little uncomfortable. He had long ago made his peace with all of them, but they didn't exactly get on well. It was hardly surprising, really. After everything he'd done, he couldn't blame them for being slightly hostile.

"Dad," Scorpius said quietly, and Draco crouched down.

"Yes?" he asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Dad, are those the Potter children? And the Weasleys?" Draco nodded, and his son continued, "'Cos Grandad said I should stay away from them. But do I have to, Dad. They look really nice. They're not really bad people, are they?" Draco felt anger bubble up inside him. How dare his father tell Scorpius who he could and couldn't be friends with? Scorpius was his son, not Lucius'. Taking a deep breath, he reminded himself it was probably partly his own fault. If he'd just spent a little more time with his son, if he'd not been too ashamed to tell Scorpius what really happened during the War, Lucius wouldn't have had the opportunity to fill his head with bitter, untruthful stories.

"Scorpius," he said softly, "I know Grandad's told you one version of our role in the War, and over the next few years you're going to hear a very different one. One day, I'll tell you the true story, but for now I will simply tell you that I made a lot of bad decisions and did some very stupid things. Those four people over there were a lot braver than me, and are very good people. Harry Potter even saved my life once. If any of his children, or the Weasley children either for that matter, actually want to be friends with you after everything I did, then I certainly won't object. Who you make friends with is entirely up to you." Scorpius thought about that for a few moments, and Draco glanced up to see Astoria smiling fondly down at the two of them. She had been saying for years that he needed to talk to his son more, but he had held back out of fear that he would end up like Lucius – a pushy, bullying father who constantly made his son feel inadequate and unloved. Now, however, he wished he'd listened to her sooner.

"What if I'm not in Slytherin?" Scorpius blurted out suddenly, and this was clearly his deepest fear, the one he was only willing to share now he was sure he had his father's full attention. This fear was easier to deal with, or so Draco thought.

"No chance," he said breezily, "Every Malfoy is in Slytherin."

"But what if I'm not? Will you all hate me, like Grandad said? Will you disown me?" Draco looked at his wife for support, unsure what to say. Of course he would never disown Scorpius, but he certainly wasn't keen on the idea of his son being in a house other than Slytherin. Astoria, however, was no help at all. She simply placed her hand gently on his shoulder, nodding encouragingly. Draco sighed.

"No, Scorpius," he said seriously, "Your mother and I would never disown you, no matter what house you were in." There. He hadn't lied. Now he just had to hope that Scorpius wouldn't end up in Gryffindor, or somewhere equally awful.

Satisfied, Scorpius grabbed his trunk and, with a hug from his father and a last kiss from his mother, dragged it onto the train. Straightening up, Draco put his arm around Astoria and she looked up at him. Her approving smile was enough to tell him he had done it right. Perhaps he was cut out to be a father after all.

With a loud whistle, the train pulled away from the platform. Draco and Astoria raised their hands to wave, and Draco had to fight to keep a smile on his face. It was hard to see his son leave, even if he knew Scorpius would have a wonderful time at Hogwarts. With a sigh, Draco glanced towards the other end of the platform, where Harry was waving off his son, Albus, who was also going to Hogwarts for the first time. In Harry's face, Draco could see the same resigned sadness he felt himself. They weren't so different really, him and Harry Potter.