"Oh, well, you know," he rambles, quietly beaming and going red in the face all at once when she mentions his thoughtfulness. "Bar did most of the work."

He'll give credit where it's due.

He spreads out a provided blanket on the ground, only straightening it out with a flick of his wand at the corners.

"Just, er, out of curiosity, what is your favourite food?"

For future thoughtful moments.

Scorpius wrinkles his nose.

"I - Uhm, I don't think I know what hotdogs are."

But, he can only assume (and hope) she doesn't literally mean hot dogs.

He rubs the back of his neck.

"You were on the run?"

Blanket straightened, and relief over the misunderstanding of hotdogs, he offers a hand to help her sit.

Not that she needs help sitting, but -

Maybe he just wants to hold her hand?

"Why did you run away?"

And at seven years old? That's rather young.

('Course he's thought about it before, running away from home. He's just never actually done it before.)

Honestly? Scorpius can't grasp what it means for Annabeth being a demigod, most of the time.

Monsters and Titan wars, as she's mentioned. A whole part of her life he hasn't experienced yet.

"And now you're at the camp. Have you, er - Have you gone back at all? To your dad and your step-family. Or talked to them?"

"You're not depressing me," he assures her. "Rather, I mean, it's part of your life, right? And it's - Well, I asked."

He shrugs, giving her a warm smile.

He won't force her to talk about it.

"Ah."

His family?

"Hm, well, uhm. It's only my parents and I? I don't have any siblings. And they're, er - I don't know," he says, puffing out his cheeks as he pushes out a breath. "They're my parents. We're on good terms. Mostly. I, er, don't always know what they expect of me, but that's - That's how it is."

"Right, this next year will be my last."

And, aside from possibly owning and having a home to care for before then, he hasn't a clue of what to do after Hogwarts.

"Oh, uhm. We start working, generally."

Not everyone does, obviously, but Scorpius thinks most do.

"Mostly low-level positions or apprenticeships. Though, if you know someone -

Well. My mate, Rigel? He wants to work with the Wizengamot. Er, that is, our courts. He actually wants to be the Chief Warlock, but he's got a long way to climb. Not that I don't think he could do it. He knows the right people and he's got the mind for it.

"Anyway, he'll be working a few hours this summer because he's already set up with the department at the Ministry. Nothing serious, mostly a 'glorified errand boy', he says."

He shrugs, scratching at his jaw. Rigel will likely have a seat by the time he's twenty with his Slytherin ambition.

"I haven't a clue what I want to do. Is it just the camp for you?" he asks, suddenly, hardly taking a breath between his confession and the question.

Scorpius scoots closer so that their legs are touching, very nearly pressed against her whole side.

That is depressing. And he can't imagine how she does it. She seems to hold it together very well, thinking about it or not thinking about it all.

(It certainly makes him think about the Wizarding Wars some, and what it was like for anyone during that time.)

"I have half a mind to buy an entire crate of Felix Felicis for you," he admits, frowning. "Liquid luck."

"That's... a positive way to think about it, I suppose."

It still sucks.

And -


How would he ever know if something happens to her?

He grins back, a little on the weak side, then gives her a quick kiss. Appreciating and living in the moment and all.

"So, uhm. Tell me about your friends at camp?"

"Yeah, you did talk about Thalia. About her tree and her being a Huntress now. And Percy was on that island."

He remembers her being pissed off about that. But, mostly he remembers that being the night he asked her out.

"Luke was the other one you ran away with?"

He can't remember her mentioning him, other than that.

Scorpius can imagine a few reasons why, but -

"Why is he so angry at the gods?"