"Just a quick stop, Mags, the wands will still be there!" Mr. Maunder held his son's hand as he drew them both inside the famed shop. "You can help me find something for mum, huh?"

Magdalas made a non-comittal 'hmm' as he glanced around at the reflective inventory and the scant few people basking in the praises they drawled. It was difficult for him to imagine what in particular people found so interesting about complimentary mirrors. Perhaps if they'd offered jokes or could make the viewer look like a monster or have a funny face, he could see the appeal.

"Remember, she likes the traditional style, so nothing too modern or minimalist, ok? Also, something with a Welsh accent, for some reason."

"Pa," Magdalas voiced, a bit fatigued that his shopping for school supplies had rapidly spun into a shopping trip for his father. "Why don't you just compliment ma at home yourself?"

"Well, I do!" He laughed. "But I want her to know she's beautiful while I'm at work, too! Oh - a compact, maybe..."

Magdalas sighed and began to wander away.

"Not too far, kid!" He froze at the sound of his old man's baritone. "Don't hold hands with anyone you don't know, ok?"

The warning came from an incident in his early childhood in which he had mistaken a random woman for his mother while out in the park one day. The woman had seen the mistake and promptly returned him to his parents, but it had traumatized them both to the very day. As such, some five years later, the warning was as familiar a gesture as 'gesundheit' for a sneeze.

He confirmed back to his father before noticing a youth around his age wandering unaccompanied near the back. It felt sort of thrilling to see someone like that alone and reminded Magdelas that soon, he'd be doing things alone too for the first time in forever. Casually, he stood beside him under the pretense of examining the same mirror, though was uncertain of how to actually engage with him beyond that.