Chapter Text
SIMON
Every December, the Christmas holiday dates get put up in the hall.
I don’t know why magicians even celebrate Christmas. I mean, really? Penny explains it away as Pagan holiday appropriation and tradition and a whole lot of other things I’m not all that fussed about. It’s certainly worth it though, because the Christmas Eve dinner and lunches at Watford are incredible.
This year especially, I was excited for everything to calm down and just to spend a nice Christmas with the mage, Ebb, and the goats. Not many people stay at Watford over Christmas so it’s just an excuse to have free reign over the school. It would be great.
That is if I was staying at Watford this Christmas.
“What? What do you mean Watford’s closing?”
The mage sits at his desk across from me. He’s got his hands folded at the big cedar table in his office, giving me a sympathetic look.
He sighs, “I’m sorry Simon, but we just can’t do it. The magical community feels that Watford is becoming less safe. We’re getting pressure from the board to close for Christmas, and combined with the fact that more people are going home for the holidays, we just can’t afford to keep our doors open this season.”
I gape, “Wha- But where am I going to stay?”
The mage shrugs, “For now, see if you can find some friends to stay with. Bunce, or that Wellbelove girl. If not then we can look at some other options.”
Other options, I know what this means. “I don’t want to stay in a care home again.”
“And hopefully you won’t have to!” The mage says, “I’m in as difficult of a position as you are, Simon. I hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”
“Well, okay,” I say. In my head, I want to protest, but I keep myself steady while the mage sits and strokes his goatee.
He pats me on the back, “Good lad, Simon. I knew you would understand. Now, you’ll get back to me before the holidays start when you find somewhere to stay?”
“Yes sir.”
“Well then, you’re dismissed. I’ve got a whole lot of work to do, you know, the Old Families,” he laughs at his joke. I laugh too, to be polite.
I return to the hall, where everyone is gathered around. The notice was posted early this morning, by who, I don’t know, and people are still crowding it, trying to work out the dates. Luckily, Penny is already standing by the entranceway waiting for me.
“Penny,” I half-shout over the loud sounds of everyone chattering, “Can I come home for Christmas with you?”
“No,” she says, “Simon, you know we’re going to India for the holidays. What happened?”
“The mage says I need to find someone to stay with, otherwise they’ll put me in a home.”
“What?” Penny’s mouth falls open, “The school can’t do that! Why won’t he let you stay at Watford?”
“Apparently it’s closing for the holidays,” I say, “I don’t know where to go.”
“Merlin, Simon, that’s awful,” Penny sighs. We make our way down the hall to find a table where we can have some morning tea. We had been planning to head off to the library for one of Penny’s usual study mornings because it was a weekend. I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus now.
“It’s fine,” I mumble, my shoulders deflating, “I’ve been to them before, I was just hoping…”
“That mage is ridiculous,” she says, “He couldn’t even just take you on his holiday while he goes off to God-knows-where?”
“I don’t know, I just wanted a normal Christmas.”
Penny gives me a pitying look, “Oh Simon, I’m sorry. I’ve bought you a present if that means anything.”
“Thanks, Pen,” I say, “I got you one too.”
“Surely you’ll be able to find someone you can stay with before the holidays start,” Penny says, “Hey, scrap the study session, I’ll help you.”
Penny finds a leaf of paper in her book bag and a pen to go along with it. With some newfound confidence, we begin to list all the people we can think of who might take me in for the break.
The first one. “Agatha?” Penny asks, giving me a curious glance.
“I don’t know if that would work,” I say, “I stayed with her last Christmas. But that was before we broke up. I think it would be a bit awkward if I stayed at her house this year.”
“Yeah, I can understand that.”
“Bloody hell, her parents are nice though,” I add, thinking of the presents and the big open hearth in their living room.
Penny smiles, “Okay, onto the second one. Gareth?”
“He told me he was going away for the holidays,” I say, “Wales, I think.”
“What about Rhys?”
“I don’t think I know him well enough,” I mumble.
“Okay, well then there’s…” Penny falters.
“Who?”
“Um, that’s it,” she says, giving me another sympathetic look.
I come to the small realisation that I have a shockingly limited number of friends. It’s a bit upsetting, to be honest.
“Oh, Simon…” Penny murmurs, reaching out to touch my arm, “Don’t cry, it’ll be okay.”
“I don’t want to go to a home,” I repeat, “I want to stay here. It’s a lot nicer here and-”
Penny hugs me from across the table, “I’ll see if my mum can talk to the mage, maybe we can get this sorted out. Maybe you can stay with Ebb.”
That cheers me up a little bit, “Yeah, okay. Ebb, that’s fine.”
“You’ll have someone to stay with, that’s for sure,” Penny says, “There’s no way we’re making you stay in a care home again. You’re almost eighteen, they can’t just do that to you.”
I stand up, my head aching slightly when I do, “It’s okay Penny. I’m sure there will be other people I can ask, I’ll work it out. I have five days before the holidays begin, anyway.”
She nods, although she doesn’t look quite satisfied, “Okay. Are you going to go back to your room?”
“Yeah,” I admit, “I think I need a lie down first.”
“That’s okay,” she agrees, “And hey, Simon?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let it upset you, alright?”
I smile at her, “It’s okay, Pen, I’ll be fine.”
***
I take the long walk back to my Mummers. Or really, I intended to. I get a little side-tracked on the way.
It wouldn’t hurt to go talk to Ebb, would it? Maybe dropping in for a spot of tea and a little chat about her holidays could go somewhere. Does she have somewhere to go this Christmas? Or does she stay up here with the goats?
I wander down to her in the hills beyond. A cold breeze blows through the grasslands, and I squeeze my shoulders under my hands to warm myself up, standing outside her home.
I knock at her door, three times in quick succession. A voice rings out from inside, something which sounds a lot like ‘coming!’ , before Ebb opens the door and greets me.
“Oh, hello Simon, popping in for a bit of tea?” She smiles at me, a weary grin on her face.
“Yes, is that alright?”
“Sure,” she says, “Just boiled the kettle.”
I enter her cottage, ducking just below the low ceiling. The interior is decorated with many quirky little objects, but centred by a round oak dining table. A platter of biscuits already sits at the table, as it always does whenever I come around. She ushers me to sit down.
“Wow, Ebb, this looks amazing,” I say, sitting down as she pours black tea into an enamel mug for me.
“Ah,” she bats her hand as if swatting away the compliment, “Just a couple of snacks. Now,” she sits down opposite me, “How have you been?”
“I’m alright,” I explain, “I’ve been busier than usual. They wanted us to hand in a lot of homework before the break began. I had some trouble with astronomy.”
“Astronomy,” she sighs, “Now that always was confusing.”
“Yeah, well I guess it’s good we get a break now,” I smile, and then try to continue as inconspicuous as possible, “Say, Ebb, what are you doing for this holiday?”
She smiles softly, “Well, just as usual, I’m staying here. No one else is going to help with the goats, and Watford is my home. What about you?”
“Right,” I nod, “I’m trying to find a place to stay.”
“Why aren’t you staying at Watford?”
“The mage said that it’s going to be closed over break,” I admit, “So I have to stay with a friend or go back to one of the children’s homes.”
Ebb frowns, “He didn’t tell me that Watford was going to be closed.”
I try to raise an eyebrow, but it doesn’t work so I end up raising both of my eyebrows.
“Of course, I’ll still be allowed in, but that certainly is strange,” she adds.
“He said it was something to do with Watford being ‘unsafe’ and not being able to afford to stay open,” I say.
Ebb gives me a look, “I was under the impression that students would be able to stay at Watford this year.”
“Huh.”
She takes a biscuit from the plate, crunching down on it and looking up thoughtfully, “Maybe he just doesn’t want you here.”
I feel something in my stomach drop, “What?”
“He’s…” Ebb pauses, “He’s been away from Watford more recently. Experimenting with new magic, I think. I don’t think it’s that he doesn’t like you, he’s very fond of you in fact, but your magic might be interfering with his plans.”
I sit there for a moment, contemplating this, “So… what is he doing?”
She shrugs, “I don’t know. It’s just a theory really, and I’m just the goatherd, don’t take me too seriously.”
“Okay,” I reply, “So, he wants me to go to a children's home?”
Ebb stands, slowly to refill our teacups. The black tea she pours into my cracked mug is so overly-steeped it looks like syrup, “More sugar?” She asks.
“Uhh… Yes please.”
She drops a sugar cube into my mug, “Come to your own conclusions, Simon. I’m not in the loop about any goings-on up the campus.”
“Okay, well, thank you anyway,” I nod. I take a sip of the tea, almost gagging at the taste, but I swallow it down so she doesn’t notice.
She sits back down, “Ah, really though, I’m sure you’ll find someone you’re able to stay with. I’ve seen you walking around with your friends, they seem so sweet. Reminds me of when I was your age.”
“If I can’t stay with any of them… Would it be alright if I stayed with you?”
Ebb smiles, but it looks a bit sad, “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have you stay. But I’m sorry Simon, but I don’t know if that’s allowed. I’m not a parent at this school, and the mage is the one with a say over where you go. If he says that you’re not staying at Watford for Christmas, I have little influence to change that.”
“Oh,” that’s a little upsetting, but I guess it was worth trying, “Thank you, though. I hope I’ll find someone to stay with,” I drain the cup, as straight-faced as I can.
“Yes, I understand that those homes aren’t very applicable to you, or your magic,” she says, “And I can tell it’s worrying you sick! Have a biscuit, Simon. They’re not going to eat themselves.”
I take a jammie dodger and stuff it in my face, “Thanks.”
“Who have you asked to stay with?”
“Well, I can’t stay with Penny or Agatha, and everyone else I know is either on holiday or I don’t know them well enough.”
“Have you asked Basilton?”
I pause. No, I haven’t asked Baz. But do I really want to? “...No.”
“You’ve been more friendly recently, I gather.”
We have. We fight less, we talk more, we’re a little more amicable. He’s still a prat, though. Don’t want to spend any more time with him than necessary.
Ebb reads my mind, “I understand. The Pitches have always been, well, they’re the Old Families, they’ll be as they’ve always been. Natasha Pitch was a lovely woman though.”
I nod, thinking back to the pictures I've seen of her.
“Another cup of tea, Simon?”
“Ah, sure.”
“Now, tell me about your classes.”
***
I finally get around to returning to my room sometime midday. The walk up to Mummers is fine, and my head feels a little clearer. Still, there’s the pressing urge, I need to find somewhere to stay.
The last time I stayed in a children’s home over Christmas was in fifth year (the year after was Penny, and then Agatha). They’d sent me all the way up to Lancashire on a bus. Four hours, and then some. I can deal with going back once a year, but Christmas was just horrific. It was like having all the magic sucked out of the world, then being sent back to a bedroom shared with three other boys. Merlin, at least Baz is tidy.
I don’t even like doing magic that much, but I like having it around. I like all the spells, the excitement of it all, and having Penny cast Some Like it Hot on my scones instead of waiting in line to stick them in the microwave. That is if we ever got scones at any of the homes.
Then Christmas day. We’d all get packed down to church at nine A.M. We’d get small parcels from random religious organisations, usually just basic things like toothbrushes or plain clothes. I’d have to hide the magical trinkets Penny or Aggie would give me under my mattress. Not the worst in the world, but nothing like Watford. Christmas at Watford is always a massive affair, even if barely anyone stays for it. To go from that to another home, now that I’m almost a legal adult would be just… a lot.
I thought I would never miss Baz. The one good thing about being in a children’s home would be not living with him. I was dead wrong, every time. Sure, there was no stupid arguing, no fights, no calling each other names or nearly breaking the Anathema, but there was more to Baz that I only was able to appreciate when he was gone. His scent, the way everything on his side of our room faintly smelt of bergamot and cedar. His routines, the way the padding of footsteps on the wooden floor would always wake me up before school. His soft-spoken musings, or his usual reading by wandlight before bed. Like Stockholm syndrome, or something.
To make up for it, he’s certainly getting on my nerves right now.
“Crowley, Snow, save some moping for the rest of us.”
I turn, and Baz is standing behind me, hands on his hips. I’m on my knees trying to fish everything out from under my bed so I can pack my bags, it isn’t pleasant.
“What’s it to you?” I ask, only mildly ticked off.
“You’re leaking magic everywhere. It smells like a coal house in here. And you’re pouting too, it looks absolutely ridiculous.”
“Ugh,” I grumble, “Just leave off. Go find someone better to annoy.”
He frowns, “Well, you’re making it my problem too. I’m trying to study.”
“You can always study somewhere else.”
“Not my point,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“What is your point?”
He taps his foot on the ground, impatiently, “Well, what’s wrong?”
“Huh?” I gape. What’s wrong? What does that mean?
His gaze doesn’t meet my eyes, “I just mean, there must be something wrong. The holidays are almost starting, you should be in a good mood. You get to go off with your friends and have a big Christmas romp, eat scones and hold hands or whatever.”
“We don’t hold hands and eat scones,” my brow furrows, “I’m not even staying with them this year. I have to go back to one of the homes.”
Pitch raises an eyebrow, “You do?”
“Watford’s closing this Christmas. The mage says they can’t afford to keep it open and there’s pressure from the board, but Ebb reckons -”
“That’s bullshit.”
I open my mouth to say something like, didn’t know you could swear like a Normal , but Baz cuts me off again.
“Watford isn’t struggling for funding. Literally nothing is going on at the board. Are you sure they’re really closing or does your foster dad just want an extended holiday?”
“He’s not my foster dad,” I say, “And Ebb said something similar.”
“Well, that’s weird,” Baz replies, letting me stand up, “So, you basically have nowhere to stay.”
“The mage said that if I could find someone to stay with, then I could. But Penny’s going on holiday, and… yeah.”
Baz considers this for a moment. He gives me a look that’s halfway between sympathy (getting real sick of that today), apprehension, and something else I can’t quite place. When he opens his mouth, the words that come out send me into a minor state of shock.
“You could stay with me if you wanted.”
“I’m sorry, I could what? ”
He rolls his eyes, again, “I mean, we have loads of space at my place in Hampshire, and… it wouldn’t hurt to take another in. My father and stepmother are used to lots of people.”
Baz can be an arse sometimes, but I don’t even need a second to consider this, “Yes. Please. If you’ll have me.”
He raises an eyebrow, perfectly, “You didn’t need long to think about that one.”
“You’re offering me a chance to have a proper Christmas with a family and a huge manor and probably lots of really nice food, or I say no and I go to what’s practically an orphanage. What would you choose?”
A smile curls at the edge of his lips, “Oh, don’t worry, we’re the charitable sort. This counts as philanthropy for my family.”
It’s kind of a cruel joke, but there’s no malice in his voice. I laugh alongside him, “Yeah, then you can go join the Girl Scouts after for some community service.”
He snorts, then smiles at me. It’s deeper and softer than his usual sneers. “No, seriously, they’ve been bothering me to have someone over who isn’t Dev or Niall for years… Bringing you home, a right way to piss them off.”
I nod, “As long as there’s food I’m cool with it.”
Baz leans back and sits down on his bed, “There are a couple of questions I have for you first.”
I pause. This could be anything. “Yes?”
“Do you own a suit?”
“No.”
Baz sighs, rubbing his temples, “We’re going to need to fix that.”
I sit down opposite him, “Are your parents strict or something?”
“Oh,” he laughs, “You haven’t seen anything yet.”