Epilogue

"How about Scorpius?" Draco offered. Harry giggled at the name, causing a frown to form on Draco's face.

"What's so funny? Scorpius is a perfectly respectable name. Plus, it carries on the Black tradition of naming a male heir after a constellation. It's perfect." Draco sniffed haughtily, which elicited another bout of laughter from the other male.

"I don't know what kind of world you're living in Draco but there is no way in hell I'm naming our child Scorpius. No way." Harry finally said after regaining his breath.

Harry was eight months pregnant now. The Horcrux had been destroyed (it wasn't very hard to acquire the Sword of Gryffindor and you could guess what happened next), Neal was looking at a life sentence in Azkaban (lucky for him, the use of Dementors was stopped years ago) and Harry and Draco's relationship was stronger (and healthier) than ever. Harry was on a long leave—though he occasionally went in for consultation and deskwork, much to Draco's displeasure—until further notice.

Draco had been a little worried that Harry would be upset with him, as Harry couldn't be Head Auror when with child, but apparently the joy of having a child overshadowed that. Draco was ecstatic at the thought of becoming a father too. Harry had told Draco that the only reason he had wanted to be Head Auror in the first place was so that he could make the Wizarding World a safer place for everyone, so that they could settle down together without worries of another Dark Lord rising, and Harry trusted that Ron could make a good Head Auror, what with his great tactical skills and loyalty.

And now, after that whole fiasco, here they were debating baby names.

"Better than naming him after dead people. I know this might sound sort of insensitive but I would prefer our child start out his life without the burden of his namesake," Draco retorted.

"Nuh-uh," Harry replied childishly, sticking his tongue out at Draco. He rolled his eyes. His Harry could be so immature sometimes; to think this was the person who everyone instantly looked to for advice and guidance. Not that Draco minded, he liked being the only one to see Harry's adorable (and frustrating) side. "Who's the one carrying him again?"

Draco sighed. If one of them didn't give in soon—and that wasn't likely, both of them were as stubborn as mules—they would probably end up with a 'compromise' that could be detrimental to their child's psychology. The Sofa Incident came to mind. Draco could just imagine the different variations they could come up with. James Scorpius Malfoy-Potter? Hyperion Remus Malfoy-Potter? Really, the possibilities were endless—and horrifying. Salazar, their child was doomed—doomed to a life of endless teasing.

However, as Draco stared at the plain steel band on Harry's ring finger (technically, Harry had hinted at Draco to propose with a "Our child can't be a bastard can he?"), he couldn't regret his plan. It had still worked out in the end, hadn't it? There were many unexpected twists and turns, sure, but Draco had achieved his end objective. Harry was his and he had proven it. It was there from the baby to their marriage. But even without that, Draco had nothing to fear for he knew that Harry loved him as much as he loved Harry. And nothing could change that.

Harry had given him everything he had ever wanted.

Perhaps Draco could give in this once. After all, they wouldn't stop at just one child.

The breathtaking smile on Harry's face was worth it; it always was.

The End.

Author's Note: I changed the format a little so... yeah. There's no new chapter; it's just some editing.