I See You

"So, you're really doing this, then?" Draco nods to the general mess on the counter. "You're actually baking his cake yourself?"

"You told me I couldn't if I tried, so yeah, I am," Harry replies, carefully measuring out flour, squinting over the rim of his glasses. Then he throws Draco that open-hearted beam of his and follows it up with a wink. "You should've known better than to challenge me, Malfoy."

"Or maybe I just really wanted you to make us cake, Potter," Draco replies slyly, holding his coffee out of the way when Lyra reaches for it.

"Either way," Harry laughs. "Oh, shit, I forgot to let the butter soften," he hisses suddenly, darting over to the fridge.

"Shit!" Scorpius chimes at once and Draco hears Harry curse under his breath again.

"Scorpius, you aren't to say that word," Draco says lamely, valiantly trying not to give into the laughter bubbling up.

"Shit!"

"Stop, or I'll make you sour old lemon cake instead," Harry threatens lightly, waving a bunch of lemons from where he's standing at the fridge.

"No!" The horror on their son's face is genuine, and completely hilarious.

"Then listen to Papa," Harry says calmly, winking at Draco again as he comes back with a brick of butter.

Draco really wants to kiss him again, more thoroughly this time.

Resisting the impulse, he drains his mug and dumps it in the sink, and returns Lyra to her chair before carefully edging the slabs of chocolate out of Scorpius' reach. "What else are we serving?" he asks, pulling over the cookbook and skimming through the recipe.

"Molly said she'd bring dinner for everyone," Harry says vaguely, sieving out the flour now. "Can I make you some breakfast, babe?"

"It's after noon!" Draco reminds him. "And we have lunch at the Manor in an hour, anyway."

"Er, I can't go, I have loads to do," Harry says at once.

Draco rolls his eyes. "Six years of being married and he's still scared of the in-laws," he mutters, sliding the cookbook back to Harry.

"I am not scared of them!" Harry says loudly, and the outrage on his face has Draco laughing openly. "As if I'd be scared of your father," he says scornfully, peeling the paper off the butter and drawing his wand.

"Yes, it's not my father you're afraid of," Draco says pointedly, lifting Scorpius off the counter after prying a tiny bottle of very expensive vanilla syrup out of his hands.

"Your mother has threatened me on more than one occasion, you know?" Harry grumbles, jabbing his wand at the butter to soften it with a little too much vigour, causing a chunk of it to melt off completely. "You wouldn't believe me, but she has!"

"Oh, I believe you," Draco drawls, collecting Lyra once more and leaning in to smack a kiss onto Harry's cheek. "You're very cute when you're all defensive," he murmurs, nuzzling his ear.

"I'm not being defensive!" Harry claims at once, narrowing his eyes at Draco's grin and kissing him on the mouth. "You'll be okay to take them by yourself?" he asks, and Draco nods.

"I need to give them both a bath first," Draco says, hastily grabbing Scorpius' hand when he tries to scamper away. "We didn't last night."

"I know, I'm sorry I was late getting back," Harry says. "We missed our Portkey and had to wait for another."

"Been there, done that," Draco snorts. "And you ask me if I miss being in the Corps."

"We were one hell of a duo," Harry reminds him for the enth time. "I miss you being an Auror more than you might miss it."