Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its contents, and I'm not making any money off this.
A/N: This isn't properly British.
"Why does it have to be counter-clockwise?"
Draco pauses for a minute, right after teaching his latest lesson. His larger hand is still around his son's smaller one, moving the batter around in the bowl. Looking down at his son's wide, grey eyes, Draco muses, "...I suppose it doesn't. That's just the way my godfather always taught me to do it. ...Although, he was a potions master..."
"I wish I'd known him," Scorpius says, and he keeps stirring when Draco releases his hand. His stirs are more erratic though, and not uniform to one specific direction.
Draco says softly, "I wish you had too," and picks up the recipe card (elegantly scrawled in his mother's handwriting) for more instructions.
"Eggs are next," Scorpius chirps, right as usual. Draco puts the list back down, kisses his son on the head, and strolls over to the fridge. Scorpius stays at the table, mixing the current ingredients together. Draco glances over his shoulder to ask, but Scorpius anticipates and offers, "Four of them."
Draco smiles and closes the fridge door behind himself. It's no wonder Scorpius gets Os on everything. Draco holds the eggs out for Scorpius to take and doesn't bother fishing out his wand. Scorpius cracks each one effortlessly with zero mess. Where Draco uses magic, Scorpius uses genuine talent, and Draco resists the urge to litter Scorpius in more kisses and shower him with adoration and praise. Draco probably tells Scorpius 'I love you' more in one day than Lucius ever did in a year, and Draco feels it's a definite improvement.
He's just about to pick up the recipe card again when he hears footsteps heading to the kitchen, and instead, he glances up at the doorway. Neville appears in it a second later, looking disheveled and worn. "Sorry I'm late," he breathes. "A first year got stuck in Devil's Snare."
Scorpius smiles and keeps stirring. "That's alright. Daddy and I are making a special holiday cake."
"Are you now?" Neville asks, halfway across the kitchen. Draco meets him on the other side of the table and gives Neville a minute to drape his robe over the nearest chair. He loosens his tie as Draco goes in for a quick kiss, which Neville returns with a warm smile.
"I can't wait until Hogwarts," Scorpius sighs. "I'll take Herbology every year."
"Give it a few more years," Draco smiles, and then changes the subject to ask, "How was your day?" because he can't bear the thought of his son leaving home and doesn't want to discuss it.
Neville shrugs. "The usual. ...Can I help with the cooking?"
"Nope," Scorpius says, to everyone's surprise. Neville raises an eyebrow, and Scorpius shrugs apologetically. "Daddy says the recipe's a Malfoy family secret."
"Pfft," Neville scoffs, chuckling a little. "I'm an honorary Malfoy." And he looks at Draco for support.
Draco mirrors his son's shrug, and he absolutely glows when Scorpius says, "When you give Daddy a ring, I'll give you the recipe."