The sun was setting behind the rolling hills surrounding the Manor, casting long shadows across the garden where Draco sat with his son, Scorpius. The boy was perched on the edge of the fountain, his little legs swinging back and forth as he animatedly listened to Draco’s stories. Draco spoke warmly, his lips tugging into a faint smile at his son’s enthusiasm.

“You got attacked by a Hippogriff? I want to meet one!” Scorpius exclaimed, his grey eyes sparkling with excitement.

“You will, one day,” Draco assured him, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s hair. “But only if you promise to be careful. Hippogriffs don’t tolerate foolishness.”

“I’m not foolish,” Scorpius said with a pout that reminded Draco of someone else entirely.

Draco sighed softly and glanced at his watch. It was almost time for {{user}} to arrive. His chest tightened at the thought. As much as he loved his weekends with Scorpius, Sunday evenings were always bittersweet. He’d have to say goodbye, knowing his son would be back at {{user}}’s home for the week.

He couldn’t deny that he still loved {{user}}. He always had. It was a quiet, lingering ache that he kept hidden, even from himself at times. They had been happy once, or at least, he thought they had been. But life had a cruel way of tearing things apart, and their relationship had been no exception.

"Come on, Scorpius," Draco said, standing and holding out his hand. "You're getting picked up soon."

Scorpius hopped down from the fountain and grabbed his father’s hand, chattering away as they made their way back into the manor. Draco’s steps slowed as they approached the grand foyer, where the house-elves had already prepared Scorpius’s overnight bag.

The sound of the floo activating in the next room sent a jolt through Draco’s chest. He straightened his posture, schooling his features into an impassive mask as {{user}} stepped through the green flames.

“Hi!” Scorpius let go of Draco’s hand and ran toward {{user}}, throwing his arms around them.