Compared to all the other kids his age who was looking forward to going home over he break, Aiden wasn't thrilled when the winter holidays approached. Christmas- and his birthday that happened a few days after- had never been anything but stress since his mother died. Even when he was living with his aunt full time, they couldn't escape the menace that was his father. The drunk didn't reserve drinking for a special occasion, but it was always worse during Christmas for some reason. He'd show up outside of aunt Carolines doorstep, drunk out of his fucking mind and slurring bullshit about getting his son back. As if he'd earned the right to call himself a father in the first place. When he didn't get his way, he'd get aggressive and start screaming at them and threatened to throw bottles. It was routine at this point.

The first few times it happened, Aiden had been hiding behind his aunt, afraid of the man he once called his dad. The older he got, his fear simmered into anger over his behavior. It was so unfair, but he's since long learned to not expect anything from his father. He was still too young, too weak to do anything about it except accept it as his life, and just... move on. Pretend it didn't happen. At least the other days of the year, the man deemed himself too good to associate with them- Their kind. Unless he needed money, of course.

The 28th of December was the one day of the year that his delusional father decided he wanted to try to be the father he never was. It always ended up a screaming match, with his aunt telling him to never contact them again. He never listened. Who knew what was going on inside the mans head, but Aiden didn't see why he didn't fucking give up already. It always had the same end result. That's the reason he was dreading going back home, knowing what was most likely coming, despite missing his aunt and her rare patience during the school year. Aiden never cared for the presents- he never even wished for anything these days except some peace and quiet. A holiday for once where he didn't have to dread his dad stumbling up their doorstep to ruin their night.

It was with a heavy boulder in his stomach Aiden returned back to his aunt in december, where she picked him up at the train station. Arriving back at her townhouse in Oxford, they spent the next few days leading up to Christmas decorating the tree and baking cookies together while they for a moment could forget that unhinged, outside forces existed. On Christmas day, they were joined by his aunts older kids, all graduated or about to, and exchanged presents. Even if he hadn't wished for something, he of course received several gifts from his aunt and extended family. Overall, it was a good day without any major interruptions.

Expecting the same old, Aiden was surprised when Caroline suggested a trip to London and Diagon Alley on his birthday for once. It would have been a first, but maybe knowing how bad things got with the old man, that she wanted to avoid it all together or at the very least, offer Aiden an escape from what he was expecting. Blocking him didn't help. He still knew where they all lived.

They left early on the 28th. Caroline had packed an overnight bag for him even before he woke up, and she didn’t say it outright, but Aiden could tell: she was hoping this year would be different too. Not because she believed his dad had changed—but because maybe not being home was the best way to keep things from happening at all. For once, the day passed without shouting. Without broken glass. And yet... He couldn’t relax. Not fully. Even walking through the bustle of London streets, then Diagon Alley with Caroline chatting beside him and holiday lights still blinking in every window days after Christmas, Aiden felt something crawling under his skin. The absence of disaster wasn’t peace—it was just a pause.

In curtesy of his birthday- despite not asking for anything- Caroline dragged Aiden along to a handful of shops to insist on buying him whatever he fancied. First they got some new school supplies in the Cauldron shop, before taking their shopping bags over to the Quidditch supplies store to look at broomsticks. As a first year, he was too young to apply for the Slytherin quidditch team, but Caroline told him that he might as well have his own broom to practice with for the upcoming second year. If he had any aspirations to play. Aiden considered the offer... Sure, it would be fun to play- might as well have his own broom if he planned on pursuing it- but he hadn't flown enough yet to justify a purchase.

It didn't take more than a hearbeat to make up his mind. Aiden, of course, politely declined her offer. Told her that she didn't have to buy him anything at all. The firebolt was tempting- and he didn't doubt that she'd buy him anything he wanted- but the price tag was breathtaking. Guilt would cripple him if he allowed her to spend that much money on him. In fact, any money spent on him was wasted, he thought. Curtesy of having a deadbeat dad that loved to remind him what a waste of space Aiden was. How he'd ruined his life. "You did that well on your own," Aiden always told him. The fact that she'd even brought him to London and got him out of the house was a gift in itself.

Leaving with nothing, the two moved on down the Diagon Alley street until they stumbled upon a colorful store. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. A candy shop, by the looks of it. That was their next stop. They crossed the street, but didn't come very far before someone had almost crashed into him. Didn't notice that since it didn't happen- However, it was the screaming, "SORRY, SORRY!" that caught his attention. Bewildered, Aiden turned and glanced down at the sheepish girl. A bit younger than him, presumably.

She asked if he was okay, but he wasn't the one who had almost fell on his ass. The Slytherin raised a bemused eyebrow at the younger girl. "... I'm fine. I should be asking you that." He nodded to herself, offering a barely there smile. "I'm not the one tripping over for some candy."

Almost getting tripped over was annoying, yes, but there had been no ill intent with his comment. There was a fine line between enthusiasm and being annoying, but this time, he mostly found it amusing. Trust him, if he wanted to be rude, she would have known. Aiden never felt like he had to explain himself in any situation. Rarely was he wrong, and even if he was, he'd never admit it. If someone wanted to act butt hurt over something he'd said and done (that was one hundred percent true), be his fucking guest.

"Well, that's not very nice, is it? Here I am asking if you're alright, and you make fun of my enthusiasm. I don't seem to be quite as boring as you, thank you very much," the girl huffed, crossing her arms over her chest like a defiant child. She was, he supposed. Though it didn't quite reach her eyes, revealing some humor even if she tried to come across as serious. Because of that, he gave her the benefit of the doubt.

However, he had to roll his eyes when she called him boring. In some situations, he might be. But coming from her, her opinion bore no credit. They didn't even know each other. "Well, was I wrong?" They'd all seen her rush to the store and almost tumbled after barely avoiding running into him. "If you had looked more closely, you wouldn't have had to worry about interpreting my words as making fun of you." Aiden hadn't even laughed.

Caroline, who had been quiet during this altercation nudged him in the back. Aiden took the hint, but not without a mental eye roll. "But I suppose you're right," he sighed, hen he asked her in a softer tone- not because he really cared, but to please both his aunt and the easily offended girl, "Are you okay?"