Draco knew Scorpius had a lot on his mind lately. The scars, the potential reconstruction, the potential for things to go wrong. He figured his son would need a distraction, so he arrived at the infirmary armed with nail polish, some comics that may or may not be entertaining, and chocolate. The potions he'd been working on were in a simmering state, and wouldn't need his attention for at least the next hour.
He knocked lightly on the door, then came and sat beside Scorpius' bed.