Glancing around the narrow cobbled street that had been rebuilt after the war, Draco sighed. So much had happened since he was last here and yet it seemed like only yesterday. He could still remember the time when he and his mother came here to buy his own school suppliers. Now, here he was with his very excitable son about to purchase Scorpius' equipment.
As their matching grey eyes met, it suddenly dawned on Draco just how quickly his mini me was growing up. He was very proud of the young man Scorpius had become and he was sure his son would get on extremely well at Hogwarts. The younger Malfoy was the complete opposite of his father at the same age, something that the former Slytherin had always wanted.
Draco smiled and ran a hand through his blond locks as he watched his eleven-year-old run here, there and everywhere. Eventually coming to a halt, Scorpius turned to his father and asked, "May I have a broom, Dad?"
With a light chuckle, Malfoy untucked his son's letter from the inside pocket of his suit and shook his head. "No, I'm afraid you can't, Scorp. It says here that first years aren't allowed brooms," the older wizard explained softly.
"How come Harry Potter got one?" Scorpius moaned.
Draco closed his eyes briefly and let out a small sigh. It had always bugged him that his former foe had been that talented at Quidditch. It had always been his dream to be a professional player.
Turning away from the shop, Draco looked around. He didn't know where to start but spotted the robe shop where he unknowingly met Harry for the first time. "Let's go, Scorp," he muttered, putting a hand on his son's shoulder and steering him away from the brooms.