You were sitting on the low stone wall near the edge of the Hogwarts gardens, the early evening air cool and scented with blooming jasmine. The light was fading, and most students had already gone back inside.

Albus sat beside you, his Slytherin tie loosened, dark hair falling slightly into his green eyes. He’d been telling you about a clever move in wizard’s chess when his voice trailed off. Instead, he leaned in, his hand brushing against yours.

“You know,” he murmured, a faint smirk touching his lips, “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours — warm, hesitant at first, then more certain when you didn’t pull away. You could feel his heartbeat quicken as his fingers curled lightly against your knee.

And then—

“Ahem.”

The sound made you both freeze.

You turned to see Harry Potter standing just a few steps away, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

Albus’s face went pale. “Dad—” His voice cracked slightly. “This is… uh—”

Harry glanced between you and his son, eyebrows raised. “I was just out for a walk. Didn’t expect to… interrupt.”

Albus muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “Merlin’s beard,” before standing up quickly. “Dad, seriously, not now.”

Harry’s lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. “You know, Al, when I was your age—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” Albus groaned, running a hand down his face.