He ruffles Percy's wet hair - not an easy task - and bends automatically so it is easier for Alecto to reach him.

"Hello, dearest," he murmurs, as affectionate and loving as always, then stands back up, watching the two of them interact with a soft smile on his face.

"Percy, you'll need to dry off before bed," he warns, holding out a hand for Percy's; unusually for him, Percy pouts and burrows even closer to Alecto, his face pressed against white fur.

"'m not tired, Papa," he claims, his words a muddled mess, whispered against Alecto.