#alsafi

(I’ve started a little “series” thing. I’ve got ideas for all of the Potter-Malfoy kids and I’ll be releasing drawings and headcanons of them. I hope you enjoy!! I’d advise that you go look at the other kid’s stuff to avoid confusion)

The next of the Potter-Malfoy kids I’d like to introduce you to is Alsafi

It had only been 11 months since adopting Cassiopeia and 10 months since taking in Teddy (January 2006)

& these two weren’t exactly planning on adopting another child soon

Narcissa had, however, brought up the topic of surrogacy around the twin’s fourth birthday (bc she loves the whole grandkids thing and wants them to have like 20 kids, but she wanted at least one to be blood related)

“I’ve recently reconnected with Ignatius, you know Draco, Lucretia’s husband. You remember her don’t you? Perhaps not, you met her when you were quite young. She’s dead now, of course, rest her. Anyways, she and Ignatius have a grand-daughter named Eudora Black. She’s your third cousin. Even still, she does look a great deal like you, you know. And I’ve heard of this new type of medicine St. Mungo Healers are doing -borrowed it from the muggles. I was thinking that if Harry and Eudora had a child for you two, they’d be related to both of you.”

While Narcissa said this whole speech, Harry and Draco couldn’t get a word in sideways & there was a very long silence after she finally stopped talking.

They just kind of blinked at her.

And finally Draco slowly was just “So… let me get this straight… you want Harry -my Harry- to- to- have a baby with a woman…who is my third cousin?” He’s just totally perplexed by the idea.

And Cissa just nods excitedly and says “I’ve already spoken to Eudora and she says she’d be happy to be your surrogate.” And again, there’s this long silence while Draco tries not to get annoyed bc she talked to this girl before talking to them ?!

He through his teeth he just says “Of course she would want a child with the precious savior.”

“Oh you don’t understand Draco ! It wouldn’t be her child. It would be yours and Harrys’!” And she turns to Harry, who’s been very quiet up until now, hoping to get an ally. “I know how much you love the Weasleys, Harry. The child would also be related them. Ignatius is Molly’s uncle. Not to mention he was also Sirius’ uncle.”

And it takes an arm and a leg to explain the process to Draco.

Throughout the whole thing Cissa and Draco are very blunt and unabashed.

But Harry on the other hand, every time the word “Sperm” is mentioned, his entire face would turn beat red.

eventually they go for though, because it seems like a pretty ideal situation relation-wise

But their one big concern is the other kids. they don’t want them to feel like this child will be more important than them just because of blood relations

So they agree to sit the kids down and talk to them when the baby is born (because at the time the girls are only four + Cassiopeia is 2 so they’re not entirely sure what “Talking to them” would really do + and they wanted to talk to all of them at the same time)

They meet Eudora and she really does look startlingly like Draco. Except the fact that her hair is red, instead of blonde.

They get all the necessary paperwork done and

Nine months pass, in which time they acquire another child (Eltanin - next post)

And finally, after a load of built up anticipation from the Potter-Malfoys and Draco’s parents and the Weasleys and all of Harry + Draco’s friends, the baby is born on October 31st. It’s a boy and he’s the spitting image of Harry.

Except for his hair which is bright red and his lips, which are identical to Dracos’ (and Eudora’s)

They hadn’t talked a lot about names up to the birth. They had thrown around ideas like Cygnus perhaps but nothing really stuck

but Harry had been doing some research of his own and suggests Alsafi (Al-suh-fy)

Draco’s a bit confused because “that’s a bit of an odd name. badass, but odd.”

And Harry explains to him that Alsafi is a star in the Draco Constellation

And Draco just cries. literally cries.

Draco had a lot of unvoiced nerves about the baby before he was born.

He thought perhaps he wouldn’t feel the same Harry did for their son because he wasn’t really Dracos.

or maybe, even worse, he’s harbour some sort of awful jealousy in the child

but when he holds Alsafi he feels nothing but overwhelming love for him.

He’s extremely hyper + the dads do not know how to deal with him at all.

As soon as he was able to roll that’s all he did. They couldn’t take theirs eyes off of him or he’d roll right off a bed.

Harry even gave up trying to keep him settled in public and got a muggle backpack leash. (Draco was, to say the least, quite concerned that Harry had bought a leash for their child, but was thankful immediately on their next outing)

The kids are just fascinated and delighted.

they’ve never seen kids so small + the twins just keep petting him.

They end up referring to him as “Allie” upon Anita’s request

When he gets older, it’s very clear to Harry that this kid had inherited many traits from James and Lily as well as the Black side of the family

He’s clever and snarky and gets moody + can get extremely mean

He generally keeps a relative light air though, making jokes and pulling pranks

+ Alsafi is outgoing af and charming

It becomes clear as he grows older that, though no one denies his looking like Harry, he’s kind of like… Harry 2.O

I mean, his face looks identical to Harrys but at the same time extremely pretty, more delicate looking and Merlin, he is tall.

he turns out to have the height of Draco’s family. lean and by the time he stops growing he’s 6′6, taller than both his dads

His hair is not as messy as Harry’s, but rather nicely curly, and it’s usually kept long (like Draco’s) with an undercut.

He’s a Slytherin, really to no one’s surprise.

He becomes rather good friends with Lyrik Zabini, and Adhara Finnigan (Dean and Seamus’ kid), fellow slytherins

He’s a whiz at Potions as well as DADA. Slughorn is just floored “just like his fathers, I tell you! both were fantastic potioneers you know”

He’s also a damn good beater, becoming a dream team™ with his sister

 ( د. محمد حسين الصافي (محاضرة الماسونية

 للمزيد من المحاضرات اتبع الرابط 

Ensign Trell groggily walked through the corridors of the Dyson vessel, following the footsteps of the aggravatingly chipper Alsafi.  She’d worked out from the context that this Wraithstrike soldier not only qualified as an officer in Dyson’s forces, but that she’d also led the assault to take back Pilot Tan’s ship.  She heard the boots of the two soldiers behind her, an extra escort that Alsafi continued to ignore as effectively irrelevant while she was around.

They entered a hall that contained holding cells similar to the ones that Trell had been held in earlier.  Alsafi examined them like fruits in a grocery store, and eventually settled on one four from the entrance to the hall.

“Step right in, please,” she said, waving Trell toward the entrance.  “This cell has all of the accommodations from your previous lodgings, but it should lack the structural flaw that allowed you to escape from it.  Sorry for the inconvenience, and enjoy the rest of your stay!”

Alsafi vanished from view and Trell rolled her eyes.

“Move along,” said one of the guards behind her.

Trell took a step forward but heard an energy blast.  Eyes widening, she jumped forward and rolled into the cell, moving her manacled hands between her and the commotion.  She looked back and gaped at the sight of one of the guards standing over the other guard, a discharged blaster in her hand.  As the smell of ionized air drifted toward Trell, the treacherous guard turned to face her and smiled.

“Captain?”

“The one and only, Ensign,” said Captain Calen, spinning and holstering her weapon.  “At least since my duel with Captain Anthonial Calen.  Help me with the body.”

Calen tapped a keypad on her uniform’s wrist, and Trell’s manacles fell to the floor with a clang.  Calen grabbed the legs of the unconscious guard and, after overcoming her shock, Trell grabbed the hands and the two easily pulled the guard into the cell.

“Why are we leaving him alive, Captain?” asked Trell.  “He’s a security risk this way.”

“He has a usefulness that’s earned him some extra time.  If this cell’s monitoring vital signs and it detects an absence of healthy humanity then they’ll know you aren’t in it.  If we keep this guard in here, he may yet fool such insufficient security measures.”

“I understand.  How did you get here?  I thought you were thrown into a secluded confinement after your previous escape attempt.”

“The volunteer that I found to serve out my sentence is, in actuality, another guard who had the misfortune of styling hair as I do.  Her uniform fit me well enough, and mine hers.  By the time she comes to, I expect she’ll be three hours into an eight hour interval without being checked.  Her uniform’s allowed me to move about without suspicion.  Trell, this military lacks any semblance of security or cohesion.  It’s like an impressionist painting of what an army is like, but it fails to capture the soul of what an army is.”

“There were no security codes required?” asked Trell.

“There were.”

“Then how-”

Calen held up a tiny, concave piece of clear plastic.  It glowed and periodically twinkled with light and had a red and brown smudge.

“Is that one of the cybernetic lenses?”

“Let’s just say that my incarceration understudy will need to invest in an eye patch.  Though she might not’ve had time for investing anything if your plan had worked.  That was some clever thinking, Trell.”

“Thank you, Captain.  I… didn’t like it.  I knew it would destroy you as well.”

Calen frowned and narrowed her eyes.

Captain Ortega flipped the final switch.

“Lookin’ good, Mac!”

The grizzled, but cheerful, engineer who continued to stand just behind him was unnerving.  While he had initially welcomed the presence of an actual engineer, specifically one trained in power generator subsystems and energy distribution management, he’d considered it to be a good sign.  Unfortunately, the engineer had been interested in seeing how Ortega would go about the process, and almost seemed more interested in pointedly withholding information as a way of making the process an educational one.  Ortega hoped that, at the very least, the engineer would be willing to stop him from doing something destructive or deadly.

He glanced at the capacitance meter, currently displaying a ninety-eight percent charge.

“Think it’ll hold?” asked Ortega.

“I dunno.  Do you?”

“I’d really like your professional opinion,” said Ortega, trying to stay patient.  “We have two percent left to… I mean, one percent left to make sure it won’t discharge.”

“Then let’s hope you’re right, Mac.”

“Andrew,” said Ortega.  “My name is Andrew.  Or Captain Ortega.”

“And my name is Frederick.  Freddy Waylay.  You know, I knew an Andy Ortega back when I worked at New Lima, do you think you’re related?”

“Probably not, but you never know.  It’s always possib-”

The capacitance meter ticked forward to one-hundred percent.  Ortega took a deep breath and stepped back.  After a second, another display came to life displaying a booting procedure that quickly cycle to a system maintenance panel.  Ortega exhaled, as did the many armed guards behind him.

“Well then,” said Ortega.  “I guess we fixed it.  Assuming the generators were synchronized, I’m guessing the other teams were successful too.”

“Great!” said Freddy.  “I knew you could do it.  Never doubted for a second.”

In the distance, Ortega could hear the sounds of other small crowds of people uttering quick cheers.  The ship wouldn’t be destroyed, at least not in this fashion.  He turned back to Freddy, nodding.

“Thanks for the confidence.  It would’ve helped if you’d been more direct, though.”

“Would it?”

“Very much so.”

“Are you sure?”

“Y…yes?”

“I doubt it,” said the engineer.  “If only three of these generators had been fixed, the rest of the ship’s systems would’ve been unaffected.  The folks at the other stations wouldn’t have let us down.”

“Isn’t it better to assume that they might not be able to and make sure that our job is done well?”

“Well of course.  That’s why I’m watching you, isn’t it? And besides, now you know how to fix this kind of problem again in the future.”

“Captain Ortega?” said a voice behind the Captain, cutting off his line of questioning with the engineer.  Ortega turned to see the new speaker, and felt relieved to see Alsafi, carrying her observation crown at her side and revealing her face and hair.  She was grinning, clearly relieved.

“Did everything turn out all right?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” she said.  “Well… effectively.  One of the generators didn’t get completely fixed, but with no other generators linked to it the ship’s own fail-safes were enough to stop it in its tracks.  There was some smoking, a little fire, but it was contained.  Nice work.  Glad to see that the action figure’s not all hype.”

“I hate those things.”

“Yeah, me too,” Alsafi said.  “Totally.  I mean, it’s just a money grab capitalizing on you.”

“Well, most of the proceeds go to charity.  I’ve just always been weirded out by the eyes.  They’re… off.”

“Oh!  Yeah, okay, I get that.  Cool.  Guess it’s a good thing they made them, then.  Gotta help the… charities.  All the charities.  Anyway, you’ve been called up to an audience with The Herald.”

“Zamona?”

“Yeah, that guy,” said Alsafi.

Ortega looked at the ground.  Still unconscious, Ensign Trell continued to lie on the ground, motionless.  He looked back up.

“I’m not sure I like that idea,” he said.  “I’m not keen on going back in that cage.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” said Alsafi.

“Really?”

The assembled guards looked from Captain Ortega to Alsafi, unsure of how to proceed in the face of his grave pronouncement.  Alsafi realized she had become the object of scrutiny and held up her hands.

“Whoa, hey now, why’s this my call?”

“You’re the highest ranking person here, ma’am,” said one of the soldiers.  “Captains outrank Lieutenants, especially Wraithstrike Captains.”

“One of the reasons I joined the Wraithstrike unit was to get out of the command chain, you know,” she said.  “Okay… Ortega, I’m gonna trust your reputation here.  We need to get people who can disarm these… generator bomb things.”

“I think I can handle this one,” said Ortega.  “You’ll want to get whatever engineers you can while you figure out where the other ones are.”

“Right… probably just the ones she would’ve passed between her cell block and here.  I’ll coordinate those efforts.  Four of you… actually, six of you, stay here with Ortega.  Captain Ortega, you will stop this generator overload and then remand yourself into the custody of these soldiers who will escort you back to your cell… back to a different cell, actually.  Is that how you use remand?”

“I hope so, that’s how I use it.”

“Great,” she said.  “Come with me, the rest of you.  Actually… I’ll take this alone, sorry.  All of you, watch Captain Ortega.”

Without even a flash of light, she vanished.  Ready for the spectacle this time, Ortega heard the faintest rush of air and felt a gentle breeze as she vanished.  The Wraithstrike method of teleportation didn’t mask itself from air displacement effects.  Probably not a big tactical advantage, but he filed the information away for his report on the situation later, if he survived long enough to file it.

“Get to work,” said the guard who’d spoken to Alsafi, pointedly aiming a rifle at Captain Ortega.  “One of you get his energy blaster.  And keep an eye on the other stunned prisoner.”

Ortega nodded, leaving the blaster on the ground and turning to the terminal.  Ensign Trell had been thorough, but there were only so many ways you could sabotage a power generator if you intended for it to generate enough power to cause malfunctions rather than just shutting it off entirely.  She’d probably built in some redundancies in the event of discovery.

Someone, somewhere, finally turned off the alarm, but a different alarm sounded, one with less urgency but more implied dread.

“All available engineers near the cell blocks, report to the nearest power generator stations,” said Alsafi’s voice over an intercom.  “Ship destruction imminent if you don’t comply.  …the two of you looking stunned in the break room, put away your card game and start moving, we really don’t have the time for this.  All of you, get going.”

Ortega went over what he saw Trell’s hands do in his mind, and thought about all the similar overload count-downs he’d dealt with before.  Ideally an engineer would be along soon to fix anything he did wrong.  He glanced at the capacitor readout display.

Ensign Trell made her adjustments to the power generator, linking it to the network she’d created between all the other units she had modified.  As she finished the change, she heard a hum behind her.

“I will.”

Trell turned to see Captain Ortega, holding the weapon she’d knocked out of Alsafi’s hand.  He was aiming it at her, and powering it up.

“Will what?” she asked.

“Stop you.  You asked who would stop you.”

“Right,” she said.  “Sorry, got lost in the work for a moment.  Captain Ortega, we have a chance to destroy this ship.  If we don’t take it now, then we lose our chance to fight back against our enemy.”

“Your enemy is Emperor Dyson, not the conscripts who’ve been subjected to neural coercion.  Destroying this ship will barely weaken the Dyson Empire, will end lives unnecessarily, won’t help us to actually stop him, and kills your Captain.  You don’t want to be on the wrong side of any hearing or committee investigating actions like this, believe me.”

“By the Morcalan rules of war, I’m well within my rights,” she said.  “And by international law, attacking enemy vessels, even through sabotage, is an acceptable act even if the crew is known to not be acting of their own free will during an invasion attempt.  This isn’t a war crime.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

Trell turned back and smiled.

“And so we’ve hit the breaking point, then?  I figured you always found a way to do things by the book, Captain Ortega.  I suppose this situation is a bit much for you.”

“That’s your mistake, then,” said Ortega, taking aim with the weapon.  “The Astroguard protocols aren’t my limit for doing what needs to be done.  They’re my starting point.  You have two seconds to step away from the generator.”

Trell looked from Ortega to the gun and back.  Fast enough to take even one of Captain Ortega’s experience by surprise, she reached back, input the final change without even looking at the access panel, and jumped at Ortega with her metal pipe as a readout on the power generator began tracking the unit’s capacitor charge.  Ortega reflexively pulled the blaster back instead of firing, and grabbed the incoming pipe before it could connect.  Trell punched with her free hand, connected, and sent Ortega staggering back.  She reached for the weapon while he was disoriented, but he twisted it away and regained composure quickly.

“Sorry,” he said.  “I’m going to need this.”

“Why?” she said.  “It’s done.  The machine’s been activated.  Unless you’re willing to keep fighting for the entire duration of the countdown… time that we SHOULD spend racing for an escape pod… then there isn’t-”

Ortega fired the blaster.  The beam hit Trell and she screamed, dropped the pipe, and fell to the floor.  Ortega ran to the generator’s terminal and inspected Trell’s changes.

“There they are!”

Ortega looked down the hall and saw Alsafi, or a similarly dressed Wraithstrike soldier, leading a small cadre of guards and running to meet them.  Ortega raised his hands at the sight of the weaponry.  He waited for them to draw nearer, and cleared his throat.

“You didn’t even run?” said the Wraithstrike, using a chipper tone that told Ortega that this was still Alsafi.  “Geeze, I know escape’s impossible, but-”

“My friend here just rigged this ship to destroy itself,” he said.  “We need to disable it.”

“What?” she said.  “How?  That power generator couldn’t-”