Like Father, Like Son


Story Summary:
Scorpius wishes his dad would just get it through his head already: he’s in love with Albus Potter, and no rivalry between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter is going to stand in the way of that. In fact, the Potters will be arriving at the Manor for dinner any minute now.

Chapter 01


It was a serene and dazzling English morning, and Draco Malfoy lounged luxuriously in a plush green velvet settee in the drawing room of the Malfoy Manor. His steel-grey eyes were trained on the pages of an incredibly aged Alchemy book held up to his pale, pointed face by his right hand, while his left arm slung lazily over the back of the seat. The white light of the morning sun shone softly through the tall, magnificent windows, tinging Draco's white-blond hair with silver. Mouth pursed in concentration, he gently turned a fragile page.

When he presently heard soft footsteps coming from above, he tore his eyes away to witness his wife, Astoria, and son, Scorpius, descending the grand staircase. Astoria looked beautiful as ever, her noble features softly lit by the incoming sunlight as she smiled warmly at him. Scorpius, blond-haired and silver-eyed, was almost a carbon-copy of Draco himself; he, however, was not smiling.

"Good morning," Draco greeted pleasantly, sitting up. He marked his page, closed the book, and set it aside on the cushions.

Astoria and Scorpius strode over and deposited themselves into the two lavish armchairs opposite Draco; Astoria did so delicately and with perfect posture, while Scorpius sat heavily, crossed his legs, and began bouncing his foot nervously.

"Good morning, Draco," returned Astoria. For some reason, she seemed to hesitate before she spoke again: "Isn't it nice to have Scorpius home? Done with his sixth year already!"

She beamed over at Scorpius, who returned her smile half-heartedly.

Draco eyed his fidgeting son with concern. "Is there something I should know about?"

Scorpius looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but there at the moment. Astoria cleared her throat.

"Well, yes, in fact there was something Scorpius wanted to tell you. Go ahead, won't you dear?" She touched Scorpius's arm gently.

Draco felt a twinge of anxiety begin to kindle in his stomach. He leaned forward and watched his son expectantly.

Scorpius clasped his hands on his knee, resignedly sighed, and met Draco's eyes. "Dad," he began apprehensively, "I've, uh...I've met someone, at school."

Draco let out a relieved breath. "Ah, I see. So, that's what this was all about?" He chuckled. "Who is she?"

Scorpius darted an uneasy glance at Astoria, who nodded her encouragement.

"I--well--ah...He's a boy, actually."

Draco's eyebrow shot up. "Oh?" He took a moment to process this. "Well, er, I suppose that's all right, Scorpius..."

"That's not all," Scorpius continued cautiously, glancing at Astoria once more. "It's not just any boy...ah..." A sharp intake of breath. "He's...well, he's a Gryffindor."

Draco's mouth fell open. "A what?! A Gryffindor!"

Scorpius, after another moment's hesitation, seemed to make up his mind to boldly declare his love, his first love, his undying love for the boy whose electric green eyes had arrested him in his tracks from across the Great Hall; the boy whose gentle, quiet, frankly annoyingly idealistic nature had gradually earned Scorpius's adoration; the boy who made him feel like shouting to the whole world, Wizarding and Muggle alike, that--

"Dad, the boy I love is Albus Potter. It's always been Albus Potter."

Long moments ticked by. Astoria looked worriedly between the two. She noted that Draco's mouth remained open in an altogether un-Malfoyian expression of astonishment, his eyes glazed over. Scorpius made eye contact with her, raising his eyebrows.

After a few seconds, Draco seemed to shake himself back to earth. In a voice much more high-pitched than he intended, he croaked, "Albus Potter? As in...the son of Harry Potter?"

"And Ginny Potter, yes."

A look of renewed dread flashed across Draco's features. He didn't know which was worse: the thought of someday having Harry Potter as his son's bloody father-in-law, or the prospect of having to spend holidays with the blasted Weasley family.

Astoria cleared her throat. "Draco, I really think you're overreacting to this. Scorpius can fall in love with whomever he wants. In fact," she went on, "I think this would be a wonderful opportunity to end this ridiculous blood feud against the Weasleys, not to mention address the silly grudge you continue to hold against Harry Potter, a man who's more than once saved your life, mind you."

Draco slowly shook his head in horror. This wasn't happening.

"Anyway, I've already owled to invite Mr. and Mrs. Potter to the Manor for dinner. They'll be coming round with Albus Friday evening."


Astoria's long rivulets of chestnut hair gently fell forward as she bent to straighten a silver salad fork. "Thank you for setting the table, Hildy." She nodded toward a small figure with spindly limbs, a large head, bat-like ears, and orb-like green eyes, who delicately curtsied before Apparating back to the kitchens. Astoria had never approved of her parents' abuse of house elves as a girl; she recalled with gratitude the policy changes enacted by Hermione Granger granting house elves the right to a salary and dignified clothing. Unlike the mistreated house-elves of Astoria's childhood, Hildy was well-paid, properly cared for, and quite content with the Malfoy family.

While she mused over these thoughts, Draco entered the dining room. Astoria reckoned that, despite the sour look on his face, Draco looked quite debonair dressed in a white button-up shirt, pressed trousers, and soft black robes. After kissing her distractedly on the cheek, he remarked haughtily, "They're late. Of course they would be. No sense of decorum at all."

"Draco." Astoria's voice was gentle but firm. "I simply cannot comprehend your hostility. It's been years since you and Harry Potter were at Hogwarts. Why the drawn-out rivalry?"

"It's just--you never knew him, Astoria," Draco whined. "He was always so--so smug, strutting around the castle like he was better than everyone else..."

"Hmm," grunted Astoria. Sounds like someone I know.

"...Perfect Potter...He was favored by all the teachers, you know. They all thought there was something so special about him."

"Did you ever once actually try to get to know him?" Astoria ventured.

"I--I did, but he--never mind all of that." Draco waved his hand dismissively.

"Draco," Astoria warned. "I'm counting on you to behave yourself at dinner, if only for Scorpius. Just look at what Harry Potter's done for you, for all of us. The Dark Lord, who destroyed both of our parents' lives, fell by his hand. And," she went on pointedly, "he testified for you and your mother when you were on trial for war crimes. He's likely the entire reason you and Narcissa avoided Azkaban."

"Please don't remind me how indebted I am to the Chosen One," Draco returned impatiently. "It only serves to infuriate me more."

Before Astoria could give Draco a proper chiding, they were interrupted by Hildy's sudden entrance. "Mistress Malfoy," she curtsied. "The Masters and Mistress Potter have arrived."


Astoria, Draco, and Scorpius sat in the drawing room, each anxiously awaiting Hildy's reentrance with the Potters. Scorpius's foot was bouncing again; he was evidently struggling to suppress an excited grin. Draco pouted on the settee, chin resting on his fist, a dark look shading his eyes. Astoria's face was calm and impassive, although her tense back and shoulders belied her apparently tranquil manner.

Finally Hildy shuffled in, the new arrivals in tow. The Malfoys jumped to their feet. Hildy cleared her throat.

"Mistress Ginevra Potter, Master Albus Potter, and Master Harry Potter."

Draco did a quick scan of these three intruders; there was Ginny Weasley, red hair aflame as always, but somewhat more kempt than he remembered; she had threaded it into a simple plait. Wearing a mildly amused expression on her lightly freckled face, she casually surveyed the high ceiling, magnificent windows, and opulent furniture of the drawing room before resting her eyes on the Malfoys themselves. Her son's looks were as close to Harry's as Scorpius's were to Draco's, down to the shaggy, jet-black hair. Unlike Ginny's, Albus's eyes were riveted to only one spot in the room: the place where Scorpius stood. In turn, Scorpius absolutely beamed at the other boy, who promptly reddened.

And then, of course, there was the man whose mere existence had tormented Draco for years. Harry Potter, the Complete Tosser-Who-Lived, stood upright with his hands clasped behind his back like a soldier, calmly glancing around the room with slightly knitted eyebrows, perhaps remembering certain events that had occurred here. Draco groaned inwardly when he noted that the prat's looks had only become more dashing over the years; his untidy dark hair was combed back to the best of his abilities, and the glasses delicately perched on his regal nose gave him an intellectual air. Ha, like Potter could even recite a simple shrinking potion recipe, Draco silently mocked. Distracted by his musings, Draco was suddenly seized with panic when Harry's piercing emerald eyes made sharp contact with his, as if he'd been reading Draco's mind. Draco felt his heart begin to pound; thank Merlin he wasn't one to blush.

"Ah--hello," Astoria greeted awkwardly, her eyes flickering between each Potter before settling on Ginny. "So glad to meet you all. You must be Ginevra."

Ginny stepped forward, closing the distance between the Potters and the Malfoys, and took Astoria's hand good-naturedly. "Please, call me Ginny. And you're Astoria--I've heard so much about you from Scorpius. Thanks for the invitation."

"It's a pleasure," Astoria returned warmly, her discomfort beginning to melt away. "And of course, you must be the Albus my Scorpius goes on about." Albus blushed even redder, smiling shyly and taking Astoria's hand. "Charmed. And Harry Potter, so glad to meet you."

For some reason, Harry's disarmingly friendly expression as he took Astoria's hand made Draco long to hex him. "Nice to meet you, Astoria. It's been ages since I saw you round the corridors at Hogwarts--your sister Daphne was in my year, you know."

Harry's eyes slowly wandered over to Draco again. Draco stood frozen, unsure of what to do.

"Mal--er, Draco. How have you been?" Harry's hand extended awkwardly in Draco's direction. Draco stared at it, one haughty eyebrow raised. Astoria glanced anxiously between the two men, silently willing Draco to just get over himself already.

Finally, Draco quickly picked up Harry's hand, pumped it once, then dropped his arm back to his side with a wordless nod. Harry cleared his throat awkwardly.

Scorpius spoke up. "Dad," he began, boldly stepping forward and entwining hands with Albus. "This is Albus, my boyfriend."

Draco blinked as he beheld his son hand-in-hand with a Harry Potter look-alike, his flaring grey eyes held steadily on Draco's, as if daring him to protest.

"Draco..." Astoria prompted softly as the tension grew.

"What? Er, yes. Pleasure to meet you, Albus." Draco tried to calm down as he extended his hand to the black-haired boy. Albus shook it with an air of triumph, a cautious smile breaking out on his face.

"Well then," Astoria exhaled. "Please sit down; Hildy will have dinner ready in just a few moments."


It felt to Draco like Hildy would never announce dinner as he sat stiffly in the drawing room, gazing at each person in turn; Astoria and Ginny seemed to be getting on well, making pleasant conversation. Draco knew that Astoria had long ago rejected her family's prejudice against Muggles, Muggleborns, and blood traitors, but he was still surprised to see how easily she got along with someone like Ginny Weasley. His eyes moved to Scorpius and Albus, sitting near each other on the settee, listening to Astoria's and Ginny's conversation. At one point, Albus's gaze slowly lifted to examine Scorpius's face in something like wonderment. Scorpius caught him staring and smirked, waggling his eyebrows devilishly; Albus tried to suppress a grin as he looked away. Draco was floored, not only because he'd never seen Scorpius so--so in love before--but because of how damn similar Scorpius and Albus looked to he and Harry; he felt as if he were staring at a portrait of Harry and himself, lovingly gazing into each other's eyes. Horrified, Draco tore his attention away--and accidentally make direct eye contact with Harry, who happened to glance up at the same time. Draco's heart skipped a beat; thinking quickly, he shot Harry a dirty look. Harry's eyebrows drew together in a slight scowl; he broke eye contact. Swallowing, Draco wondered if Harry had been thinking the same thing about the two boys.

"Masters and Mistresses, dinner is served."

On Hildy's announcement, Draco shot up and almost ran into the dining room; the others followed. Their plates and glasses suddenly filled with delectable-looking meal and red wine.

After they'd tucked in, Astoria daintily patted her lips with a silken napkin. "So, tell me, Ginny," she said, a little warm from the rich wine. "How did you and Harry meet?"

Oh Merlin, spare me, Draco thought.

Ginny chuckled. "Well, we met when I was ten, actually," she began. "At King's Cross. It's a bit embarrassing, but I developed a crush on him rather quickly."

Harry laughed, touching Ginny's arm in an almost careless yet incredibly loving way. "But she got over that pretty quickly," he cut in. "Took me ages to win her over again."

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked conspiringly at Astoria. "You know how men are."

Astoria nodded wisely. "Oh yes--always wanting what they can't have."

The two women shared a laugh. Draco shifted uncomfortably, not daring a glance at Harry.

"And how did you and Draco meet?" Ginny queried as she took another sip of wine.

Astoria smiled and turned her head to gaze at Draco affectionately. He gave her a weak smile. "Actually, we met in France," she replied. "After Hogwarts, I wanted to travel, see the rest of Europe and other parts of the world. I met Draco while he was doing his thesis on the transmutation of base metals into gold and silver."

Harry shot Draco a look. "You were doing advanced studies?"

Draco sneered. "Why, yes I was, Potter. Is that surprising somehow?"

"Draco," Astoria warned. A momentary scowl flashed across Harry's face, but then he did something unexpected--he heartily laughed.

"It's all right, Astoria," he assured her. "As I'm sure you know, Draco and I had a bit of rivalry in our school days. It's all in good fun."

Draco was shocked at this description. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Er," ventured Albus, "so how did you two meet? Ow!"

Scorpius had kicked him under the table.

"We met on the Hogwarts Express, I think," Harry answered uncertainly, digging back into his memory. "Draco was making some comments about my friend Ron that I quite frankly didn't appreciate..."

Ginny could hardly restrain a glare in Draco's direction.

"Actually, you're wrong," Draco contradicted. "We met at Madam Malkin's, while we were being measured for our school robes."

"Oh yeah..." Harry trailed off.

"Um," Scorpius chimed in. He thought he'd better cut this conversation short before it got ugly. "Albus and I met during potions class. We were partnered up."

"Oh, is that right?" Malfoy sat up straight. "Scorpius has a natural gift for potions," he informed the table proudly. "Gets it from his father."

Harry muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "...only because Snape favored you..."

Albus's ears perked up at the mention of his namesake.

"Right, Potter, keep telling yourself that," Draco rejoined, his nostrils flaring. "I'm sure Scorpius was only paired up with Albus because Gryffindors are such low achievers, probably needed Scorpius to tutor him--"

"Oh yes," Harry retorted angrily, "because I seem to recall a certain Slytherin working hard for his grades, never dreaming of cheating..."

"I didn't bloody cheat, Potter," Draco spat. "I used my resources wisely, as Gryffindors are apparently too self-righteous to have the sense to do--"

"DRACO." Astoria was absolutely fuming. "I think Hildy requires some help clearing the dishes, don't you agree?"

"Yes, Harry." Ginny crossed her arms. "I think you'd better help, too."

With one last glare at Draco, Harry pushed his chair back forcefully as he rose. He grabbed a handful of dishes in each fist before stomping towards the doors that led into the kitchens. Draco fought the urge to look smug as he cast a Levitation Charm on the remaining dishes and gracefully hovered them through the kitchen doors. Astoria and Ginny exchanged apologetic looks and Albus's face burned while Scorpius placed both elbows on the table, shielded his eyes with his hands, and sighed exasperatedly.


Draco guided the dishes over to where Hildy was preparing dessert and touched them gracefully onto the counter. He scanned the room for Harry. Where had the git run off to?

He followed a strange hissing noise to the back of the kitchens and stopped in his tracks when he saw Harry bent over a disused sink in the far corner, back toward Draco, running water from the hissing faucet over the dishes and scrubbing them furiously with a soapy rag. Draco crept up to stand a few feet behind him, clasping his hands behind his back, and cocked his head.

"What on earth are you doing?" Draco couldn't help but ask. He'd never seen a ritual like this in all his years.

"What does it look like?" Harry mumbled. "I'm washing the dishes."

"Washing the dishes?" Then it dawned on him. "Ooh, I see. Potter, you do realize that Hildy can have those dishes clean in a snap of her fingers?"

Harry's bizarre activities slowed, then halted. He looked over his shoulder at Draco grudgingly. "Oh...oh yeah."

"What is this, some sort of Muggle thing?" The corners of Draco's mouth twitched.

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry snapped. He snatched up a dry towel and started to dry his hands. "I mean...yes. It is."

Draco was dangerously close to smiling, but his face quickly straightened out as Harry swiftly turned to face him, pinning him with a look that signaled confusion, annoyance, and disbelief.

"Why do you have to do it, Malfoy?" he demanded. "We haven't spoken for years, yet you still delight in getting a rise out of me."

Draco's body warmed. He felt excited, alive. Potter's full attention was riveted on him--it was...intoxicating. Ensuring that his expression betrayed nothing, Draco gave a nonchalant shrug.

Harry sighed in exasperation and shook his head, the anger leaving his face. "We ought to apologize to Scorpius and Al. They each other, you know."

Draco scanned Harry's face with the calm of an analyst. In it he saw the boy who had coldly rejected him on the Hogwarts Express; he also pictured Harry's face, disfigured from a hex, when the snatchers had brought him to Malfoy Manor, and he remembered how those unmistakeable emerald eyes had penetrated Draco's, obliterating the last traces of Draco's former allegiance to the Dark Lord; and he saw the man who had boldly faced Voldemort, a subhuman who had made his life a living hell, and beat him.

"Well, Potter," he suddenly said after a long, uncertain silence. "How about a truce?"

"A truce?" Harry eyed him suspiciously. "Draco Malfoy, offer me a truce?"

Draco fought the urge to lick his lips--that skeptical expression suited Harry quite well, not to mention Draco's name on those lips--

Oh Merlin, no, Draco silently panicked. I don't--ugh--I killed those unthinkable feelings years ago--He's a stupid, arrogant git--not in the least bit sexy--

Harry's expression changed to one of puzzlement. It was his turn to cock his head. "Everything all right, Malfoy?"

"Ah, yes," Draco coughed. "A truce then. Good. Shall we be on with it?"

And with that, he turned on his heel and marched purposefully toward the doors that led back into the dining room, Harry staring blankly after him.


"Forgive me for how I behaved, Scorpius," Draco apologized softly. The Potters had departed, and Astoria had retired to their bedroom for the night. Draco and Scorpius sat in the drawing room, facing one another, Scorpius with his arms crossed and face turned angrily away. "It's just--there's a lot you don't know of my...history...with Harry Potter. But that doesn't excuse how I acted."

He waited. After a few moments, Scorpius turned his head to meet his father's eye. When he saw the genuine remorse on Draco's face, his expression softened. Draco didn't often admit when he was wrong.

"I appreciate that, Dad." He hesitated. "Just to be sure, you're not so much against Albus personally, right? Just that he's a Gryffindor?"

"And a Potter and a Weasley," Draco added darkly. Then he caught himself. "Uh--it may take me a while to become used to this. I hope you'll understand."

Scorpius chuckled a bit and uncrossed his arms. "That's all right, Dad. Actually, I find it a bit compelling, really, Al and I caught between two warring families, two rival houses. It's like Romeo and, if Romeo had gone after Tibalt, that is."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Since when are they teaching Muggle literature at Hogwarts?"

Scorpius rolled his eyes. "Since years ago, Dad. Honestly, you should catch up with the times. Things have changed." He winked, arose, and started for the staircase. "'Night, Dad."

Yes, mused Draco, as he watched his son ascend until he disappeared. Some things have changed.

But then again, some things refuse to.