(Untitled)
Never mind the imperfect timing, this is what happens when Scorpius gets an idea in his head.
He has a letter in hand, written in a shaky script, unlike his usual perfect penmanship, that betrays his nerves. He re-reads it one last time before loosening his white-knuckled grip on it and asks Bar to deliver it for him.
( To Albus: )
He has a letter in hand, written in a shaky script, unlike his usual perfect penmanship, that betrays his nerves. He re-reads it one last time before loosening his white-knuckled grip on it and asks Bar to deliver it for him.
( To Albus: )
(Really, has he ever stopped working his way through a difficult time since then?)
He seems content, working among the flowers. He even looks to be singing to himself. Those attentive ones aware of technology, however, will be able to spy the walkman attached to his trousers and the headphones on his ears.
When he sees Scorpius walk by, he waves with a garden glove clad hand.
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(After a quick look around to make sure he was the one being waved at, that is.)
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"Hi," he calls. "Whacha doin'?"
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Scorpius looks down at the Quaffle in hand and shrugs, taking a few steps nearer to the garden.
"Just, messing about. What are you planting?"
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"Whatever needs to be planted from the greenhouse. I just got to working on my sunflowers right now."
He's hopeful that they'll start sprouting soon, with the weather getting warmer. They'll be beautiful for the summer.
He then points to his headphones.
"Got some music to listen to, too."
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Scorpius can hear the music now and suddenly regrets not having a connection to the Wizarding Wireless Network at Milliways.
"What're you listening to?"
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He takes a moment to take off the gloves so he doesn't get any more dirt on his headphones. He then takes them off and offers them to Scorpius.
"Wanna listen?"
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Well. He wasn't doing anything anyway. He was just trying to clear his head.
He shrugs.
"Sure."
He moves closer and sets the Quaffle on the ground, sitting on it.
"Is that a band from your world?"
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"My friend Duster even played bass for them for a while."
Which, now that he thinks about it, is a pretty cool thing to be able to say.
When Scorpius takes the headphones, he'll hear a sort of jazzy classic rock coming from the headphones. Along with the mentioned bassist is a guitarist, a drummer, a keyboardist, and a saxophonist.
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And there he is using that word again. He really isn't very good at critiquing music.
"Do you play?"
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"Nah," he answers, shaking his head. "I just garden here and take care of my sheep at home. I don't think I really have time to learn how to play anything."
He points to the headphones again.
"Duster's been playing bass for three years, though. And his band mates say he's the best they've ever heard, so that's something."
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"I've never learned to play."
He's never thought about learning either, really.
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And it's here that he realizes he doesn't really know this person's name.
"Oh yeah, and my name's Lucas."
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He offers a hand.
(They might have met before, but that was ages ago.)
"And, er, well, I'm a student. Just a student."
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"A student? At a school?"
Yes, it's a legit question.
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"Er, yeah. At a school."
But thinking about Hogwarts makes Scorpius think of a certain letter he'd just sent.
He frowns and scratches at his nose.
"Hogwarts? That's the name of my school. You might have met some students from there. There's a few of us here."
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