December 17th, 1887 — Slytherin CR
Taggart Renshaw

With the winter holidays approaching quickly, Eldin was beginning to struggle to balance packing, quidditch practice, final assignments, and the unshakable impatience that came with the knowledge that he'd soon be comfortably cooped up in his bedroom once more. He had nothing against school, but who didn't want a break every now and then? With ten classes, quidditch, and clubs, he was long overdue for a hibernation period.

The entire day had been a blur, and as the common room door shut closed for the evening and the students made their way to bed, Eldin found himself with his trunk wide open and his clothes scattered about.

Four more days. Three by tomorrow.

Halfway through his packing he realized that he'd left some of his schoolbooks down in the spot where he'd been studying, so with a scowl across his features he rose from his bed and wandered back to the Common Room. He spotted one Taggart Renshaw—a Slytherin in the year below him—sitting in the room all alone and cocked a brow.

"You going home for break, Renshaw? You're not packing," he commented from across the little room. Eldin and the other Slytherin had never been notably close—their difference in age, station, and beliefs ensured as much, though he'd never found reason to be unfriendly.

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Tag was dreading going home for winter break. Yes, he hated finals like everyone else and would rather be doing anything other than studying, but Hogwarts had become his home since he started there and since he was a wizard, he would find a wizardly job to occupy his time while his father and family continued being muggles. It was awkward going back during the school year because his family tried so hard to pretend that everything was okay and that he wasn't learning how to leave them in the dust.

So rather than study like he should, the fourth year Slytherin boy was staring pensively into the fireplace. He didn't notice when Eldin came into the common area. And he almost didn't notice that Eldin had addressed him. So the voice of the older boy had Tag all but jumping out of his skin. "Criminy, Eldin, make some noise when you come into a room, eh?"

Looking over at the other Slytherin, Tag smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm going home for break, Ma would have my arse if I didn't. But I need to study." Vaguely waving at his books beside him, Tag randomly picked up a quill and then set it down. He didn't want to be studying, but he didn't want to be packing. He just wanted to sit morosely and stare at the fire. But he couldn't be mean to the older boy, it just wasn't in him to be rude to a fellow Slytherin. "Why aren't you packing?"

  

As much as he wanted to understand Renshaw's thought process as he stared across the common room, it was difficult when they two came from separate worlds; Eldin was a pureblood raised in wealth, while Renshaw was an impoverished muggleborn. They weren't the sort of pair that would interact outside of school every—social boundaries made sure of that. Even if the boundaries weren't so limiting, they were just so different in their backgrounds made relating to well - anything - rather difficult.

"I think my voice counts as noise, unless you'd consider it sweet music to your ears instead," he joked, maneuvering around the couches in order to get a better look at the fourth year's setup.

"It doesn't look like you've got much of either done. It actually looks like you're considering throwing yourself into the flames—I wouldn't recommend it. I'm sure it hurts," he pointed out, throwing himself down on one of the sleek couches.

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"Music to my ears?" he said with a genial scoff. "More like music to the ladies' ears." Tag actually had no idea if Eldin was a ladies' man but it was easy to assume with the features on the older boy that the girls would be all a twitter over him. He watched absently as the older boy walked around the couches and sat down, and then set the quill he had been twisting in his fingers down on top of his leg.

"It may not look like it," he said with a weak laugh, "But I promise I am." And then he shook his head and smirked. "You'd think I would be better at lying than I am. I'm a Slytherin wizard in training with a Muggle family that thrives on pounds and whatnot. I have to hide my wizarding money in a sock in a drawer to make sure that no visitor sees it lying about at home. But despite all of that, I can't even lie about actually studying when I'm just staring off into space."

"Why aren't you out packing in your dormitory, Eldin? Wouldn't you want to be heading home soon? I'm putting off packing because it means leaving Hogwarts, but you don't have to go far. I have to go all the way back to London." That was the hard part, the long train ride back to London where he had all the time in the world to sit and think about the differences between him and his family. It was depressing really. Why couldn't he stay at Hogwarts and never return to his family?

  

Eldin didn't really consider himself a ladies' man - or at least he considered there to be more important things in his life than idly hanging around the castle with the hopes of catching a pretty girl's eye. Not that he was really intuitive when it came to that sort of thing anyways; it was easier for him to figure out his own emotions than others' emotions towards him. Thus, he merely smirked at the response and didn't comment.

Renshaw's next words weren't much easier to respond to, either. It was an awkward situation; however aware he was of his own privilege, he wasn't prepared to apologize for it - it wasn't like he was responsible for the other boy's troubles. Being born to muggles probably sucked, but he didn't want to find out for himself.

"Well I'm sure your family understands," he said, "I mean, they are paying for you to attend a magical school." And he imagined the Renshaws didn't have money like that to just throw away. "You'd think if they were sticklers about keeping everything hidden, they wouldn't send you at all." Besides, what parent wouldn't want to make sure their child was, you know, actually learning?

"I have been packing," he said, casually leaning down to snatch his missing schoolbook off one of the quilts. "Holidays always have my mind scattered; I leave things all over the place."

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"You do have a point, Bones," Tag said thoughtfully. He knew Hogwarts wasn't cheap, which was another reason he was going to drop out after his fifth year. But mostly it was because he knew that the longer he stayed at Hogwarts, the less he had in common with his family and he loved them too much to say goodbye forever. Even if he did have to take some kind of menial job in London just to stay there. He could always do his magic in private, right?

Besides, he thought again, if he had to be in London to be near his family, he could always get an apartment in the magical part of London and then commute to see his family in their small home every weekend or something like that.

"Well." he said with a decisive closing of his book, "We need to be happy for the break, I suppose. Gives us a chance to decompress. What are your plans for the break, eh? My mum and dad are gonna put up a tree like usual, and we'll probably have a goose. I bet you'll go to the Sanditon resort, woncha?"

  

Eldin would never turn down a few days to relaxed away from the castle (which, no matter how hard he tried, always managed to remind him of some upcoming assignment no matter what corner he'd hidden himself away in), but holidays were special. They were days to see his mother—and now, he supposed, his sister—who was always hiding away at her day job at the hospital.

(Even though there was no guarantee she'd be home anymore than she was during the summer, hospital heads always got Christmas off. That was a sort of perk of being a "head" of anything, he supposed: more holidays, more breaks, and more pay for cleaner work.)

"I'm not sure what my mother has planned this year, to be frank. She doesn't write to me as much as she used to. I think she realized how grown I was once the prefect badge arrived," he joked with an unconcerned shrug, flipping the found textbook in his hands. Not that it really mattered; all holidays were the same—he bickered with Vesta and Rosamund and eventually parked himself in some quiet corner of the cousin with a cousin or two.

He finally clutched the textbook against his chest, an indicator that he was done with the conversation. It never hurt to be civil with the other Slytherins, but he could only continue the facade of interest before his impatience became apparent (and it wasn't like there was anything inherently interesting about Christmas in a poor, muggle household, right?)

Clucking his tongue, he back up slowly, contemplating a polite farewell before he fled to continue his packing. "I suppose I should write to her, though. You know, make sure she's home from work when Vesta and I get home. An empty home isn't exactly a warm greeting," he joked somewhat uncomfortably, before an awkward silence ultimately led him to retreat back to his dormitory.

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