"We're the same age," Scorpius pointed out, nudging Dad with his elbow. "We can actually worry about each other. I mean--" He looked over at him and tried to remember what it was like to see him differently. "It's odd. You shouldn't have all that responsibility for me, and I was working on getting ready to be on my own as it is, right? I can't even imagine what it would be like if my own kids showed up."
He frowned then, fleetingly wondering what his kids would look like and who their mum would be and privately betting somewhere inside his mind that they might be redheads. He liked red hair.
He blinked at the reminder of just how close Dad was to the war. "I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't even thinking of that. There are probably things that might help. Potions to help you get your appetite back, so you don't get ill. It was that bad? You didn't get to eat normally? I mean..." Scorpius stumbled. "Never mind. I know you don't want to talk about it."
The question as Draco changed the subject caught him off-guard, and his brow furrowed in confusion as he followed. "I've met a few new people here. It's odd working with Hermione--not to mention calling her Hermione," he admitted. "Who were you talking to?"