“I can't believe you hugged the little shit,” Draco sneered in disgust, slamming the door shut behind them. “I think you're going soft in your old age. You should have hexed that Potter kid's balls off for knocking up our little girl.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband. “Our little girl is twenty-eight years old. We should have been expecting this. She'll be a wonderful mother. And she's been married to James for five years. I think it's time you stopped referring to him as that Potter kid or the little shit.”
“Sometimes I refer to him as the annoying offspring of The Boy Who Lived or that Weasley half-blood,” said Draco defensively.
“Rose loves James, and now he's going to be the father of our grandchild. You need to start showing him a little more respect.”
“How about I call him The Boy Who I Let Live Even Though He Knocked Up My Only Daughter?” Draco growled.
“You are incorrigible. I can't believe you are old enough to be a grandfather. You certainly don't act it,” Hermione scolded.
“You're right,” Draco declared, completely missing her point. “I am way too young to be a grandfather. How could Rose do this to me? After all I've done for her. I've given her love and a nice home. My cleverness and good looks. I gave her the good hair, for Merlin sake. And she repays me by making me a grandfather.”
Hermione scowled. “Making you a grandfather is not a bad thing. And I'm pretty sure she got the cleverness from me.”
Draco shrugged indifferently. “Maybe, but the important thing is she got my hair. And now it's all for naught. Their little brat is probably going to have messy black hair and four eyes like his other grandfather. The ugly one.”
“You're being ridiculous. We don't even know if the baby is a boy or a girl yet. And for all you know, the baby could have my hair.”
“Are you even trying to make me feel better?” Draco asked exasperatedly.
“I shouldn't have to make you feel better,” Hermione chastised. “You just found out you're going to be a grandfather. That's good news.”
“Grandfathers are old,” Draco grumbled.
“Lots of people our age are becoming grandparents. Neville just had a grandson recently. He ecstatic over it.”
“Longbottom is a moron. And what would he care anyway? He was always old. Even at Hogwarts.”
“I don't know what you're so upset about. Nothing has changed. You're still the same annoying prat I fell in love with all those years ago.”
“Except now I'm a grandfather,” he muttered bitterly.
“A really sexy grandfather,” purred Hermione, knowing exactly the best way to deal with her husband's foul mood.
“Well, if anyone can pull off the sexy grandfather look it's me,” Draco conceded, starting to soften on the idea.
“So, what do you say, Grandpa? Think you're too old for a quickie with Grandma before dinner?” Hermione asked saucily, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck.
“I'm never too old for that,” said Draco, pulling his wife in for a kiss. “And shagging a grandmother has been on my to do list for a while now.” At his wife's raised eyebrow, he added, “Well, for the last ten minutes or so anyway.”
Draco had just unhooked his wife's overly sensible bra and was about to make quick work of her even more sensible knickers when they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. “There you are, Gramps,” said Harry, clapping Draco on the back. “We've been looking all over for you. Should have known that after that outburst of yours, you two would be off snogging in the broom shed like teenagers.”
“Jealous, old man?” Draco taunted.
“I'm not old. I'm in the prime of my life. Bet I could still beat you to the Snitch,” Harry challenged.
“You're on,” replied Draco, starting to grab a broom.
“Oh, no you don't,” intervened Hermione. “Last time you two played Quidditch, you broke a hip, Draco.”
“Old lady,” coughed Harry.
“Shut up, Potter. If my memory serves me right, I managed to break your nose before I went down, and I can break it again.”
“Stop it, you two,” scolded Hermione. “You're both grandfathers now. Don't you think it's time you both grew up and ended this stupid rivalry between the two of you?”
“Oh, come on, Hermione,” said Harry. “It's all in good fun. Just a little friendly competition.”
“Broken bones do not count as friendly competition.”
“You've never understood Quidditch,” Draco muttered.
“Besides,” said Harry, “I think we still have some Skele-Grow leftover from last time. Hey, Gin–”
“Forget it,” said Ginny, now standing in the doorway. “Dinner is almost ready. And this evening is supposed to be about Rose and James, not your already overinflated egos.”
“Ginny's right,” said Hermione, finally managing to get her bra hooked. “We should get back to the party. Draco, why don't you go talk to Rose. Tell her how happy you are for her. Your initial reaction was a little less than congratulatory.”
“Speaking of that,” said Ginny, narrowing her eyes at Draco. “Curse my son again and I'll hit you with the worst Bat-Bogey Hex you've ever seen. What you experienced at Hogwarts was nothing compared to what I'm capable of now.”
“It was an accident,” grumbled Draco, trying not to show fear.
“I know,” said Ginny. “That's the only reason you're still standing.”
“You can apologize to James later,” said Hermione, giving her husband a pointed look. “But first go talk to Rose. She's over there by the garden, and she's not looking very happy.”
“Do I have to?” Draco moaned.
Hermione answered him by pushing him in the direction of their daughter.
“Hey,” said Draco uncomfortably, sitting down next to his daughter on a bench at the edge of the Potters' garden.
“Hey,” she said back, not looking up as she continued to carelessly pick the petals off the flower she was holding in her hand.
“So, how's what's his name doing?” Draco asked, trying to act nonchalant.
“He's no longer a frog if that's what you're asking,” replied Rose dryly. “I think he's inside flossing the flies from his teeth.”
“Oh, good. I... uh... just wanted to say... uh... congratulations on... you know,” he stammered, nodding his head at her stomach.
Shaking her head at her father, Rose let out a laugh. “Oh, Daddy. What am I going to do with you? You are completely impossible. I love you, but I also love my husband, you know, the frog prince.”
“That slimy git?” Draco feebly joked.
Rose smiled and kissed her father on the cheek. “You are a wonderful father, and no matter what you think, you are going to make a wonderful grandfather.”
“I'm sorry, Rose,” said Draco sheepishly. “I guess your news just caught me off guard is all.”
“Actually, you took the news better than we expected,” admitted Rose. “James was afraid you were going to curse his balls off.”
“Well, like I said, you caught me off guard,” replied Draco, feeling the need to defend himself after that lame frog spell he had accidentally cast.
“So, now that the news has sunk in,” began Rose tentatively. “Are you happy for me? About the baby, I mean.”
Draco looked at his daughter and let out a sigh. “If you're happy, I'm happy. I only want the best for you. You're my little girl.”
“I am happy. More than happy. And I'll always be your little girl. No matter what. This is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I want you to be a part of it. You really are going to make a wonderful grandfather, you know. And you don't need to worry,” Rose added, dropping her voice to a whisper. “The Healer assured me that she would have our good hair.” She gave her father a wink.
Rose smiled and nodded.
Draco embraced his daughter and then bent down to her blossoming stomach and spoke to his granddaughter for the first time. “Hey. This is your grandfather, the one who gave you the good hair. I want you to know that I am going to be the best grandfather I can be. I'm going to kick that other grandfather's lazy bum. And I am going to love you with all my heart just like I do my other little girl here. I am also going to sneak you sweets before dinner, say yes when your parents say no and thoroughly spoil you rotten. But you need to promise me one thing. Promise me you will never ever marry a Longbottom. I don't think my poor heart could take it.”
“Daddy,” Rose chided. “You know better than anyone that you can't help who you fall in love with.”
Draco looked over at Hermione, her hair blowing wildly in the breeze as she anxiously watched the two of them have their heart to heart, and he couldn't help but smile. “You know, Rose. I think you did get your mother's cleverness after all.”
“Thank Merlin it was that and not the hair,” replied Rose.
“Amen to that.”