Draco looked at me expectantly.

"So?"

"So, he's a sad boy who misses his mother and thinks that his dad doesn't want to see him cry."

"But what parent wants to see their child cry?" Draco asked incredulously as I plonked a large cardboard box in his arms.

We were up in my attic, retrieving the Christmas decorations amongst the hoards of shit I'd managed to acquire over the years.

"He needs to know he can be open in front of you, Draco. Every child needs that. And it's up to you as his father to provide that kind of emotional support."

"How do you know about this stuff? It's not like we covered how to be a fucking parent in Hogwarts."

"It's called common sense, Draco." I said, finally locating the other box.

"It's not like I had the greatest of role models." He mumbled grumpily, and I couldn't help but think of his father who had laughed as Voldemort tortured and attempted to kill a fourteen year old girl.

He had a point.

"At least you had parents." I bristled, not wanting him to win this one.

"You always have to do one better, don't you, Potter?" Draco sneered, leading the way back down from the attic.

"Yeah, and I always win, so quit trying to compete with me - Malfoy."

***

"Your dad is alright, you know,"

Draco and I, having just clambered down the hallway laden with boxes, froze at the sound of Albus's voice on the other side of the sitting room door.

"So's your mum." We heard Scorpius answer. "She's awesome, in fact."

I couldn't help but beam with pride, shooting a smug glance up at Draco who just rolled his eyes.

"She's alright, I suppose. Gets a bit big headed about being the Chosen One sometimes, though."

That little git.

Draco chuckled softly, looking at my furious face with glee. I moved to elbow him in the ribs but paused when Scorpius spoke.

"I miss my mum."

"I know." Albus replied quietly. "I'm sorry."

A silence fell, and I watched as Draco's face paled. I was just about to go through the door to make our presence known, when Scorpius asked Albus a question which caused both Draco and I to freeze in alarm yet again.

"Do you miss having a dad?"

My heart thudded anxiously in my chest. I realised I had no clue as to how he felt about being fatherless. We never spoke about it.

"I never had one." Albus answered immediately, "there's nothing to miss. Although..." He added, tailing off.

"What?" Scorpius pressed encouragingly.

"I don't know," I could almost see Albus shrug in that nonchalant way he does. "I've often thought it would be nice, you know? To have a dad. To have someone like you have."

Draco closed his eyes as though in pain. Supporting the box under one arm, I reached out a hand and lightly placed my fingers against his bicep which tensed beneath my touch. His eyes flew back open, immediately connecting with mine.

And, in that moment - a moment that had likely only lasted a mere fraction of a second yet felt like an eternity - it was as though the whole world stopped moving. Our gaze intensified as his Adam's apple bobbed prominently in his throat. Grey eyes flicked down to where my hand was still pressed against his arm and I could hear the steady thrum of his heart, matching my own furiously paced one.

The moment was too strong, too intense; and I suddenly dropped my hand as though he was burning me. Tearing my eyes away from his, I turned towards the door and took a deep breath.

"Okay, boys!" I yelled, barging into the sitting room. "Time to get Christmassy!"

***

We all stood back to view our handiwork.

"What's wrong?" I asked Draco who looked troubled.

"It's just," he frowned, stroking his chin thoughtfully, studying the array of red and gold tree decorations, "it just lacks green."

"The actual flipping tree is green, Draco. What more do you want?" I said stoutly, glaring at him with my hands on my hips.

"Well, I like it," Scorpius said, nodding impressively, "especially the dragons."

I beamed proudly. I had bewitched little red dragons to fly around the tree, and every now and then, they would breathe little puffs of gold glitter over the branches.

We all looked expectantly at Albus, as though he somehow had the deciding vote.

"I'm hungry," he mumbled, uninterestedly. "What's for dinner?"

***

I was due to go into the Ministry for work on Christmas Eve, much to Draco's utter alarm.

"What am I supposed to do with them?" he asked the night before, his face the picture of panic.

"I don't know, Draco, you're a big boy now, I'm sure you can think of something without me holding your hand." I sighed, bending down to load a plate into the dishwasher.

We had just had dinner, made by me (of fucking course.) I had finally managed to adequately stock the kitchen fit enough for four large appetites. It meant we had spent the day shopping, much to the protests and groans of Draco and Albus. I didn't think Draco had ever stepped foot in a supermarket before and I didn't think he ever would again. It was far too Muggley for his liking.

Scorpius was very helpful though, and assisted me in unloading the trolley and packing up the items, whilst Draco and Albus both looked on disdainfully, as though what we were doing was House-elf work.

"Maybe we could just come into work with you? There must be something the boys can do there?" Draco brooded, watching me finishing up clearing away.

"No, Draco!" I cried frustratedly, slamming the dishwater shut. "Would it really kill you to spend some quality time with them? Do something fun. Take out some broomsticks to the paddock and show off your Seeker skills -I'm sure they could do with the laugh."

"Oh, very funny, Potter," he sneered, "I wonder how you manage to ever fall asleep at night with all those little jokes you keep telling yourself."

"I find wine helps," I said, smiling, grabbing a bottle from the fridge as if to prove my point. "Come on, let's toast to Christmas Eve Eve."

"That's not a thing."

"Do you want a glass or not?"

"Go on then," he grumbled, acting as though he was doing me the favour by drinking my wine.

I poured two glasses, handing him one. As he went to take it from me, his fingers overlapped mine, causing us to still. Our eyes met and I felt a sudden unexpected heat rise to my cheeks. I quickly looked away again, hastily removing my fingers from the glass, now in Draco's clasp.

I could see Draco smirking out of the corner of my eye, making my cheeks burn furiously. I turned my back on him trying my best not to look his way. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me blush.

"Anything the matter, Potter?" he drawled, his voice full of amusement. "Or is this normally how you do a toast?"

"I've got something in my eye," I said quickly as I dipped my head down, making out as though I was doing something about it.

He chuckled softly, and I heard him place his glass down on the side before he was quite suddenly right in front of me.

"Here, let me take a look," he said, and, to my horror, he swiftly cupped my chin, tilting my face upwards so that I was staring right up into his grey eyes.

"Draco, there's no need-"

"Which one is it?" Hot breath tickled my skin, making my heart pound furiously in my chest.

"Uh... the- the left one," I stuttered, the closeness of him making me forget how to speak properly.

His gaze switched to my left, searching intently, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"I can't see anything, Potter." His softly spoken words were like velvet as they landed just above my lips. I couldn't help but exhale a soft sigh and his eyes widened ever so slightly, flashing into mine.

Suddenly forgetting everything I'd asked of him, I found myself desperate to close the gap, to feel the gentle firmness of his lips against mine. I was becoming breathless with anticipation, my whole body suddenly reacting to my yearning.

"Etta?" Draco murmured hoarsely, slowly releasing my chin as his fingers moved upwards to softly graze my cheek.

"MUUUM!"

I jumped back, blinking. My hand flew to my chest trying to steady my racing heart.

"WHAT?!" I called back up to my son through the ceiling.

"I'VE RUN OUT OF TOOTHPASTE!"

I sighed exasperatedly, glancing back at Draco who had one eyebrow cocked amusedly.

"Kids, eh?" He chuckled.

"Tell me about it," I muttered moodily, as I went to go and help my poor defenceless thirteen year old child.

*****