A year ago Ben would have thought the idea of him pretending to be Jolly Old Saint Nicholas rather comical — and in many ways it still was, as many of his friends would likely agree — but since his unfortunate elopement in February, a lot had changed. He'd straightened up and gotten respectable in many ways. He had a house, a regular job with a decent income for the lifestyle he needed, and (at least from an outside perspective) a comfortable marriage with a beautiful and well-bred wife. So the role wasn't as far fetched as it could have been, he supposed. Besides, his "job" while trotting around with his magically induced white beard was just to smile and laugh a lot, and hand out free booze. Those were all things he was good at.

Ben had just reached into his magical Santa-sack and dispersed tiny single-shot bottles of holiday-themed liquor to a crowd of kids who looked like they were just a year or two too young for Hogwarts, which resulted in a chorus of cheers and giggles before they ran off to one of the other attractions. As the group left, they revealed a tiny child standing behind them who was watching with wide eyes — probably captivated by their laughter, if Ben had to guess. He was probably too young for booze — he didn't look like he could unscrew a lid from a bottle just yet — but Ben flashed him a wide smile all the same. He put the gift bag down and sat cross-legged on the ground so he could be on eye level with the kid. Luckily these red velvet trousers were well insulated, so he didn't have to worry about the thin film of snow.

"Hi there. What's your name?" he asked, holding out a welcoming arm towards the boy. At the same time he glanced around for a parent, assuming they'd be the one answering the question.

Dionisia Fisk