Still Delicate

O Come Let Us Abhor Him

There is wrapping paper everywhere. Ollie has eaten only half of it. Bob the Quaffle is lying forgotten in the midst of it all. Aidan is barely visible under the gold and the red, but I can still hear him shouting in excitement at the fact that Santa knew exactly which number he wanted on the back of his Chudley Cannons jersey – James's number. Wise man, that Santa Claus.

Luckily, he seems to think that Ollie is the best present anyone could ever ask for. He discovered her when he burst into my bedroom at half five this morning and found her sleeping on the floor. He was confused as to why Santa left her in my room, so I made up an elaborate excuse that Santa was obviously afraid she would get lonely during the night, so left her in my room so the surprise wouldn't be ruined. Motherhood really has made me a fantastic liar.

Scorpius shows up alone at eight o'clock, looking as if he's only just rolled out of bed. He's clearly not brushed his hair, and I'm fairly sure he slept in that t-shirt he's wearing. Why isn't Daisy here? He said 'we' yesterday. 'We' were coming over to see Aidan on Christmas morning. Did she realise how inappropriate her presence here would be? Is she actually an intelligent person? Is there anything wrong with her at all? Aside from the fact that she marries people in Las Vegas, of course. Maybe she has her own child that she has to visit. Maybe she doesn't have custody of the child because she's a serial bride, and Scorpius isn't the first victim she's married in Las Vegas.

"Dad!" Aidan cries, appearing from under a pile of wrapping paper, "Dad, look what Santa brought me!"

"Blimey," Scorpius practically yawns, looking around at the very messy living room, "You must've cleaned out that sleigh of his." He sits down on the floor in the middle of the wrapping paper and starts looking through Aidan's stuff with him. The reason he has yet to say a word to me is because I'm in the kitchen, peeking out at them. Yes, I'm a coward. "Where's your Mum?"

Shit. I think he might have seen me peeking. Now I have to come out and say hello.

"Dunno," Aidan shrugs, fiddling about with his training wand, not really listening, "Look Dad, look what this does..."

"That's brilliant, mate..."

Okay, they're playing with something. I have a few more minutes to hide out here in the kitchen, drinking my tea in peace, preparing myself for the day ahead. I remember a time when I used to look forward to Christmas more than any other day of the year. Christmas dinner at the Burrow used to be a happy occasion. But not since Scorpius came into my life. Since Scorpius started coming to Christmas dinner, six years ago, I've spent the day avoiding him like the plague.

Take for example the first Christmas he spent at the Burrow when I was sixteen. I was pregnant, he didn't know about it and he was going out with my cousin, Dom. The second Christmas he spent at The Burrow, he had come home from Hogwarts for the holidays. Aidan was a few months old and I was stressed up to the eyeballs – and that was the time he decided to spring it on me that he 'accidentally' kissed a Hufflepuff girl called Rebecca. How you 'accidentally' kiss someone, I still don't know. Out of all of the Christmases Scorpius spent at The Burrow, not one of them stand out in my mind as happy. And I think this year will be worse than any of them.

"Are you avoiding me?" Scorpius appears in the doorway separating the kitchen from the living room, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"No," I say immediately.

"Because it seems like you're avoiding me," he says. He sits himself down at the table across from me, puts his head down and closes his eyes. Is he serious? I get up at seven every single day of my life, and he thinks eight o'clock is early. See, these are the things that piss me off the most. Before Aidan came along, my usual rising hour at the weekends would be around midday. Now I consider half seven a lie-on. Scorpius's sleeping habits apparently haven't changed at all. "I'm bloody wrecked."