Drarry One Shots

Professor Potter and the Cursed Child

Totally inspired from the above picture (sorry I can't credit AI source). A return of Ned (iykyk). And warning: age gap, sort of...

***

Harry leant against one of the desks in the front row of his Defence classroom. The windows were shuttered, making the warm room dark and drowsy in the unseasonable late-Spring warmth. It was warm enough for Harry to discard his jacket. He had never taken to wearing professorial robes, the preference was always a black shirt, top two buttons undone, and black trousers with smart black boots. And even now, at thirty-four, he still maintained his slim Seeker's physique because he had kept up his Auror fitness program despite leaving the corps some twelve years earlier and he still played Seeker's games every Saturday with the club he ran.

The room buzzed with a certain anticipation. In front of him—in front of the whole class of seventh years—was a large screen that he'd set up and through which he's managed to create a live-link to Romania.

With a silent flick and complex wave of his wand, a golden sparkle trailed through the air, following the erratic flight of a conjured miniature gold dragon. And perhaps Harry was occasionally prone to a bit of elaborate magic that would wow his students, but magic was, well, magical. The little dragon flew directly towards the screen and when the small dragon collided with the white surface, everything shimmered and Charlie Weasley's round freckled-face momentarily filled the frame.

'Hi kids,' he said jovially, 'well, I guess you lot aren't so much kids anymore. Oh, hi, Teddy!' Charlie grinned on spotting eighteen-year-old Teddy Lupin amongst the watching faces. Teddy waved back. 'Anyway, I'm sure Professor Potter's already introduced me and said where I work. I'm going to jump straight in while she's here. This is one of our more docile dragons...'

Then he stepped back to reveal a Swedish Snoutnose Dragon looming behind him.

Harry smiled when his N.E.W.T. class gasped. It was good that the magic hadn't gone in the stressful build-up to exams.

Harry switched off, his thoughts elsewhere. Namely on the seventeen-year-old boy sitting in the front row, several desks to his left.

You could tell he was a Malfoy, just from looking at him. Pale, pointy, platinum-blond-haired, grey-eyed, the style of the wealth. And he was a charismatic young man. However, unlike Draco, Mercury Malfoy seemed simply intent on enjoying every minute of his time at Hogwarts. Well, he had until the past few years. From the very start his passions mostly revolved around Quidditch and, surprisingly, Care of Magical Creatures, despite the boy being academically sharp and excellent in Potions and Defence. No, there were no doubts about him being a Malfoy in his academic brilliance either. However, Mercury Malfoy was also an anomaly.

Seven years previously, when Minerva had shown her deputy head the details on her registration list for that year's intake, they had both been gobsmacked. Right after Teddy Lupin's name on the list, it read:

Mercury Malfoy, b. 5th June 1998, parents: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy (d) and Narcissa Lucrecia Malfoy, address: Malfoy Manor, nr. Lacock, Wiltshire.

Minerva and Harry had both looked at each other in astonishment. Mercury was born a month after the war. To Lucius and Narcissa. A second child after nearly eighteen years.

No amount of convincing would persuade Harry that Narcissa Malfoy was eight-months pregnant during the Battle of Hogwarts. There was no way she carried a pregnancy bump when she knelt down beside him and felt his heartbeat and declared, 'he's dead'. Let alone disguising that she was days away from giving birth during the Malfoys' trails.

Minerva had whispered, 'perhaps he's Draco's by someone we don't know about. Perhaps Narcissa decided that the right thing to do was take the baby on herself. It's not as if Lucius is around to dispute his name on the birth register.'