Gasping, Scorpius wipes the tears from his eyes. At last, the usual sarcastic undertone in Albus" voice shimmers through, encouraging him to turn around. He is sitting there, legs spread, bags between his thighs and ears flushed, as if the toy joke had cost him more than he had originally expected. He holds a cardboard box in his hand, printed with genitals wearing chef's hats and grinning happily as they squirt into a bowl.