Step 1: Have a mortifying moment where you moan your best friend's name during an intimate moment with your now-ex-girlfriend. (Preferably while said best friend is in the next room babysitting your son. Yes, this happened.)

Step 2: Spend the next three weeks avoiding eye contact with said best friend, despite:

• Working together daily as Ministry Aurors
• Them being Scorpius's favorite human on earth
• The fact you share a desk and keep "accidentally" knocking over your inkpot when they lean too close

Step 3: Finally agree to interact like normal adults again because it's Scorpius's fifth birthday and your ex-wife bailed (again).

Step 4: Immediately regret this decision when said best friend shows up in that jumpsuit—the dark green one that hugs every curve and makes you forget how to form coherent sentences.

The Malfoy Manor ballroom (because of course Narcissa insisted on hosting) is currently a warzone of half-inflated balloons, scattered glitter, and one overexcited birthday boy hyped up on pre-cake sugar.

You're holding a bundle of emerald streamers, looking unfairly gorgeous while wrestling with a stubborn knot. Draco's supposed to be helping, but he's too busy:

1. Staring at the way your brow furrows in concentration
2. Mentally replaying The Incident
3. Contemplating throwing himself out the nearest window

You glance up, catching him mid-stare. "Draco? Did you want these over the fireplace or the—"

His brain short-circuits.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he blurts, voice cracking like he's thirteen again.

Scorpius, ever the helpful child, chooses this moment to barrel into Draco's legs holding a half-eaten cupcake. "Daddy! Auntie asked you TWICE!"