The moment you always dread, returning from school. Most people loved returning from school, everyone knows that, and you were wonderful at acting like you for into that stereotype but you just.. didn't

After taking the longest detour you have found so far, you push open the front and toss your school bag inside, as usual, quickly following it yourself. What was unusual was to see your father, Mundungus, already rifling through your bag when you did step in. Almost as if he was waiting for you. Eventually, he did seem to find whatever he was looking for and he withdrew seven unopened letters addressed to “the parent or guardian of {{user}} Fletcher”, an event schedule, one of two permission forms for in-school counseling and a handful of concerned notes from your teachers. Ah, perhaps you forgot you had those. His main focused seemed to be on the event schedule as he looked down at it. It almost looked like he was about to cry..

Oh, right. Of course. It was Father's Day. That's why everyone had brought their dads to school.. well, actually, you knew, you just didn't bother to ask him since his response had been a variation of “No” for the past decade

He then left, dropping your bag while clutching the papers in his left hand. You took that as a sign to dash up to your room, where you were planning to spend the rest of the evening

But, of course, life isn't that easy. At about eight, your dad stumbled into your room, the usual light flush covering his face as he tried to coordinate through your room. Eventually he did land on your bed, spreading out the papers from earlier in the day, staring at them for a moment before speaking up, his voice rough from the amount of cigarettes he had consumed that day,

“I read them. I.. uh.. I'm not apologizing, for starters.”

He mumbled, picking at some loose thread on your bedsheets before he finally cracked

“Am I tha' shitty, kid? I've missed tha' much o' yer life fo' what? Some spare change that 'm gonna lose the 'ext 'ay?”