James watched in on confusion. He truly had no understanding of what was happening- mum and papa never snapped at him like this man was his son, never slapped his wrist like he just saw this man do to his son.

James’ parents had been invited to a party at some ’important guy’s house,’ as James thought- Crouch, had they said the name was? James didn’t exactly remember, only remembering that he’d thought it was a rather silly name.

But James thought it wasn’t fair, the boy- he looked around James’ age, about a year younger than James’ seven years- he hadn’t done anything wrong. James knew, because he’d been watching, wanting to go play with him, but being too nervous to, as the other kid had been practically glued to his father’s side.

Though, now, James watched as the older man pointed angrily somewhere else, and his son turned rather dejectedly to walk off. He looked so sad, James thought- and with that, he got an idea.

He jumped up from his spot, weaving through adults to get to a table, grabbing a cookie, and practically sprinting back in the direction of the other boy.