#younglion

Gideon didn’t know the man’s son particularly well, but Amos was around the Prewett’s enough to almost qualify for a change of name. After all, there were only so many of Molly’s meals a man could eat before he became accepted into the clan, one of the gang. In the midst of the chaos and pain that the war brought, Gideon valued his time around his family more than he ever had - and Amos had certainly become part of that. It was easy to forget that the battles they fought weren’t always for them but for the generation that would come after. Dealing with a bunch of Pureblood shits wouldn’t change; But at least if he could help provide a world safe from actual, physical harm for the next round of children to grow up in, he wanted to do his part. Cedric, Amos’ young lad, was one of that group.

The two men had ambled into Zonko’s aimlessly enough, but as soon as they entered the place Gideon was off like a shot. Aside from the magnificent assortment of practical jokes the place contained, it had a wide array of toys that suited all ages. After picking up a few baubles and fake wand or two, Gideon had spotted a bin of toy broomsticks in the corner of the shop. He’d held one up to show Amos as he spoke before giving it a light push and watching it wobble a few feet off the ground. The man grinned at his friend expectantly before turning back to the broomstick, only to watch the toy repeatedly ramming itself against a wall. 

“Oh, shite - maybe not quite ready for that yet, eh?”