Kids like candy, right? (Open)

Hamish browsed the aisles aimlessly. It had been decades since he had been in this little village, but then, he had spent a majority of the time after his graduation in the muggle world. But now he was back for good, albeit with lesser mobility in his left arm and PTSD, but that didn't mean he couldn't care for his daughter. His daughter was the reason he was here, after all. Her birthday was soon and she was rather fond of candy, but because his grandparents were muggles, she hadn't been given any sort of wizard candy. So here he was, staring at the stacks and stacks of candy and wondering how in the world he was supposed to choose something. What could he possibly get that would convey his deepest apologies for not being there for the first five years of her life while also saying he'd be there for the rest of it?

He sighed wearily and ran a hand through his hair, absently clenching his left hand around nothing. A symptom of his PTSD, his therapist assured him. Intermittent tremors came with it as well, which meant he couldn't return to being a surgeon. Thankfully, wizards didn't have much use for surgeons and he was able to get a job as a Healer at St. Mungo's. Not quite the danger-filled job he'd originally desired, but still exciting enough. He was a bit too old to start Auror training, and as a Healer he was able to be home more often for his daughter.

"Kids do like candy, right?" he muttered to himself.

Hamish blinked at the man who had answered his soft-spoken question. He was young. Five years Hamish's junior at least, but no less likely a father. Most men Hamish's age had teenage children, after all, not daughters who were barely five. Still, he smiled in return and shrugged. "I suppose you're right," he replied with a sigh. He'd also been gone from the wizarding world for so long he'd forgotten just how vast their options were. "What do you get a five year old girl after not seeing her for nearly a year?" he inquired softly.

He spent far too much time with grown men, stitching up bullet holes and sending them back out. Now he was home, with a five year old daughter who still asked where her mother was. Hamish swallowed down the lump in his throat and blinked away the threatening tears. He had to be strong, for the both of them. "How old are your kids?" he finally asked.

Hamish sighed wearily, "I figured as much." Lyla really did mean the world to him, especially now that Moira was gone, and he wanted to do his best to be there for her. But, chocolate never hurt, and it was a good way to get children to open up when they were hurt and refused to admit it. Not that Lyla was hurting just yet, but Hamish was sure she would be once she understood that Mummy wasn't coming back.

He finally spotted a selection of gummy treats that he'd always loved as a child and picked up a couple chocolate frogs as well. "Well, I'm sure you will be someday," he stated with a soft smile. "And hopefully you won't be overseas when they're born, either." Hamish wasn't sure why he had said that, but it was still an honest statement. One of his biggest regrets was that he wasn't there for any of his daughter's previous milestones.

His ears perked up when the man mentioned his friend's child who was also five. Lyla was a happy child, but she didn't have any friends in the wizarding world and Hamish felt that was partly his own fault for being gone and leaving her in the care of his Muggle grandparents. Idly, he wondered if it would be possible to set up some kind of play date for the two of them.

Hamish hummed softly. It was unlikely a wizard would end up overseas for the birth of his child unless he couldn't avoid it; Hamish had been living as a muggle for the most part back then, so he hadn't had a choice but to stay despite the desperate urge to find a portkey or somehow apparate himself back. "No need to apologise," he replied with a smile. "That part of my life is over and done with," he added with a shrug.

"It's good that you can do that," he commented. "I've spent the last ten years in another country getting shot at, so the simple notion of coming home after work each day is a nice change." God, why was he saying all these things? There was no need to announce that he'd been a coward and fled to the muggle world to fight their war while another waged in the magical world as well.

He followed the man to the counter and waited as he checked out. "My daughter? She's five, actually," he stated with a self-depreciating chuckle. "I got started a bit late in life, I know." Not that it mattered, since wizards tended to live a good bit longer than muggles anyway.

Hamish moved forward when the other man retreated from the counter. He counted out the required money and handed it to the witch, then took the bag of candy with a smile.

He hummed in agreement, "Maybe they will." Hamish hoped so, considering his daughter's happiness was paramount in his life and making sure she felt loved and accepted early on was the best way to ensure she was happy. God, school seemed like so far off for her, but he knew the time would fly by.

He shook the man's hand when it was offered, "Hamish Greer, Healer at St. Mungo's." Headmaster, eh? Well, he would certainly be a good friend to have. That is, if he remained Headmaster through Lyla's years at the school. Hamish might have been a Hufflepuff himself, but he was no stranger to ambition. But was it ambition if it was for the benefit of his daughter? He checked his watch and realised it was nearing the time he'd told his grandparents he'd be back. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jameson," he stated.