"SIR, PLEASE! YOU HAVE NOT GOT AN APPOINTMENT!"

Carol's shouts reverberated on the other side of my office door just before it banged open.

"Hello, Draco," I sighed without lifting my head. I had sort of been expecting this ever since the morning owl post had arrived.

"I'm sorry, Miss Potter." Carol gasped breathlessly, glaring indignantly at the back of Draco's head. "He just barged right through again!"

"It's okay, Carol, I can handle this." I said, waving my hand dismissively at the disgruntled receptionist over Draco's shoulder.

Huffing, she walked away. I finally, if not a little reluctantly, turned my attention to Draco. His pale pointed face was pinched in a thunderous scowl.

"Have you heard about this?" he demanded, slamming down a piece of parchment onto the desk in front of me.

I sighed heavily, refusing to look at it. "I received an owl from Minerva this morning regarding my son's recent behaviour at Hogwarts, if that's what you mean."

Draco flinched. True to his word, I hadn't seen him since I had told him to stay away from me and Albus. Except, it seems that there was something I hadn't been anticipating; not only had Albus ended up in Slytherin, but he had befriended Scorpius; unknown to him, his half-brother.

And, this morning, I had been informed by Minerva McGonagall that Albus had received a detention, alongside Scorpius Malfoy, for skipping a whole day of lessons to go and hide out in the Forbidden Forest.

They had only been at Hogwarts for four weeks.

"This isn't like him, this isn't like Scorpius," Draco said sharply, stabbing the parchment, which now lay on the desk between us, with his finger.

"And just what are you implying?" I said hotly, feeling an irritation rise. "That my son is a bad influence?"

Again, Draco visibly flinched. "Scorpius is not a leader, he has always been a follower." He said quietly, the scowl still prominent above his eyes.

"Draco, if you've just come in here to accuse my son of leading your son astray, then you can just-"

"Our son," he growled, cutting me off. His grey eyes glittered piercingly into mine, and I shifted my gaze uncomfortably. "And that's another thing," he continued, lowering his voice. "They have no idea they're brothers."

It was my turn to flinch now. I had obviously thought about this too, but a part of me hoped that their friendship would just fizzle out to nothing. It was still early days, after all.

"Scorp likes Albus a lot," Draco continued quietly. "He is all he talks about in his letters home."

"Yeah, it's the same with Albus and your-" I faltered, for some reason struggling to say the word 'son', "-and Scorpius. They seem inseparable."

I looked up and our eyes met before I quickly looked away again. How the fuck had this happened? Of all the things, I had not expected Draco and I to become fellow parents discussing our children's behaviour in impromptu meetings in my office.

"Why Hogwarts?" I found myself snapping, for some reason feeling hugely irritated at him as though all of this was his stupid fault. "I thought you hated the place. All you ever did when we were there was complain that you should have gone to fucking Durmstrang!"

For a moment he stilled. I glanced at him curiously as the Adam's apple in his throat bobbed and the tip of his tongue swept briefly and fluidly across his lip.

"Despite what you think, Potter," he said slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, "I didn't have all bad experiences at that school."

Pfft, whatever. Why doesn't he just admit he's fucking whipped?

"Well, there's not a lot we can do about it now," I said stoutly, tearing my eyes away from his in the pretence of shuffling some paperwork. "I guess we just have to accept that our sons want to be friends and deal with it in a mature and adult way."

"Who'd have ever thought it, Potter?"

I looked up, startled to see that familiar glint in his eye as a smirk twitched playfully at his lips. Despite myself, I could not help but smirk back. I knew exactly what he meant. A Potter and a Malfoy; best of friends.

Except it was a lot more complicated than that; Albus was Draco's son too, and the smirks upon our lips quickly fell as we simultaneously remembered the mess we were in.

"Astoria's ill," Draco said, out of the blue. I looked up, startled. I'd never heard him talk about his wife to me, I don't think I'd even ever heard him say her name before.

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say; didn't know what he wanted me to do about this piece of information he was offering me about his wife.

"I mean, she's really ill," he coughed, not quite meeting my eye. "I'm worried what it'll do to her if she found out about..."

Oh.

He trailed off, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"You've already made it quite clear on how you feel about the truth of Albus's parentage getting out," I said a little too haughtily, trying but failing to keep the hurt and bitterness out of my voice.

"I'm thinking of Scorp," he bit a little too sharply. "His mother is dying, and I don't want anything more to upset him."

Our eyes locked and, again, I did not know what to say. I could see how upset he was for his son and I found myself feeling rather unexpectedly sorry for him.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, solemnly. "That can't be easy."

He seemed to regard my apology for a moment, as though weighing up if I had meant it or not. In the end he a gave me a quick, curt nod, accepting.

Not knowing what else to do, I looked back down towards the letter which Draco had dramatically paraded into the office, and sighed.

"So, what exactly do you want us to do about our wayward sons, then? Do you not trust that Minerva can handle it?"

Draco let out a loud derisive snort.

"McGonagall will just shrug it off as typical Slytherin behaviour," he sneered, reminding me so much of twelve-year-old Draco. "She'll probably just get them to polish all the Gryffindor trophies as punishment or something."

"Well, at least that'll keep them busy," I couldn't help but snark back, my eyes glinting mischievously into his, "unlike if they'd had to polish the Slytherin ones. Or would that just be the one?"

"Never could help yourself, could you, Potter?" he drawled, eyes twinkling through his smirk. "Always had to get the last shot in."

"You loved it."

"I'm not going to argue with that."

We fell silent, our eyes locked onto one another; old memories of school feuds stirring between us. I had the sudden urge to reach out and touch his hand. But luckily, I managed to refrain from doing so.

Instead, I shook my head, and forced myself to bring us back to the reason why we were there.

"So," I coughed, suddenly sitting up straight to 'rifle' through some random papers in a business-like manner so as to avoid eye contact with him. "I'll write to Albus and see if I can get to the bottom of why he did it. I suggest you do the same with Scorpius."

"Etta-"

"I've a really busy morning to get through, Draco." I interrupted abruptly, terrified of the silkiness of his voice and the softness in his expression.

But most of all, terrified of how he was making me feel.

Slowly, he stood up, sighing heavily as he did so. I dared allowed myself to glance up at him, noticing the resigned look in his eyes.

"I'll be in touch," he smiled sadly. I caught the faint scent of his cologne as he reached down to remove the letter from my desk. "Good luck with Albus."

Not being able to speak for the lump forming in my throat, I nodded curtly, and was horrified to feel the sting of tears at the back of my eyes.

I waited for the door to close behind him before releasing a long, exasperated sigh.

Out of all the children in his year, why did my son have to pick a Malfoy?

***