(... is not to be its parent.)

There were moments this evening when he had to let Gabrielle go and do her talking and her diplomatic work, and Francis stepped aside and let her be to avoid being dragged into questions about him being married to her by those who he'd not met. Ambrose had done his customary 'hello' and vanished earlier in the night, Tim had done much the same. They'd see each all the following evening when he picked them up from Kings Cross.

Patting his brow with a handkerchief after a particularly energetic dance he took a generous gulp of his wine and put a finger into his collar to ease it a little as he cooled. It was at that moment he locked eyes - or rather - locked his two with the one belonging to Professor Kesali.

Francis had read a description from Ambrose of the man, after a particularly grumpy letter from his son. Apparently the Professor with bright white blonde hair and one eye taught Charms and Ambrose did not like him very much at all, but perhaps not as badly as he hated Professor Storm, but from what Tim wrote, that wasn't unusual. Tim had however written with praises for Kesali, that he seemed to love teaching the second years, and that Charms was a little less Durmstrang this year now that Professor Kirchelener had been replaced.

Never a man to entirely believe everything his sons selected to put in their letters, Francis raised his glass to the man, and once they had come within closer distance of each other, held out his hand.
"You must be Professor Kesali." Francis smiled in a friendly manner, "My sons, Ambrose and Timothy have mentioned you in their letters, but now I see you, I wonder if I remember you from the Ministry a while back..." He tilted his head, trying to remember, "Francis Pepper, good to meet you."

Somehow through the night he'd managed to slip away from the rest to finally indulge in a little of the sweets. He was starving to say the least, but wasn't about to go brave the table again. Instead, he's found refuge along the walls to watch his students, and laugh along with them as they made their way through the rounds. To say that Gale hadn't noticed Francis in the lines and dancing circles would have been a lie--he wasn't the sort you couldn't notice, at least not for him. However, when their eyes locked Gale smiled, and tried his best to ease the tension of one more conversation with one more parent. So far, through the night there had only been a handful of half angry: half cautious overbearing parents, but that was to be expected.

He was young. He knew this. He was strange to look at, and rather poorly mannered. Yet, just like any other book none should ever be judged by their cover.

"Yes Sir," He said politely praying he'd gotten all the honey off his fingers when he washed them, and extended his gloved hand for the shake. A good firm grip often surprised many as Gale always looked rather fragile. "A pleasure to see you again Mr. Pepper. And I'm sure our paths have crossed before--" You didn't forget curly hair like that.

"I do hope you won't believe everything that is written about me," He flushed at the thought, having never liked to make polite small  talk. "Your boys are wonderful students, Francis, they have grown up so much. To tell the truth I wouldn't have put two and two together so quickly. Time can pass too fast." And suddenly his heart sank, down to his knees he could feel it breaking--this was why Ambrose couldn't concentrate. This had to be the demons that haunted him, and as Gale tried to scramble and remember what had happened to Francis' wife. Yet while tried to remember the rumors, he put his best foot forward.

"Timothy is especially gifted, I would see him a Perfect by the time he's finished, and Ambrose. Well...you can't say that boy doesn't work his hardest at everything. Much like you if I do remember correctly." Ok. He could do this. Just keep talking, Gale. Don't put your hands in your pockets like a school boy, and stand up straight.

"How are you?" He asked in a quieter tone, not wanting to know about what date he brought, or how his job was going. He got right the point, "You look well, but looks can often be deceiving. It's easy to hide in a sea of faces no?"

"Timothy is especially gifted, I would see him a Perfect by the time he's finished, and Ambrose. Well...you can't say that boy doesn't work his hardest at everything. Much like you if I do remember correctly."

Francis smiled and chuckled,
"Good to hear! Yes, Tim's a bit of a chip off the old block, but I do wonder if he'll stay like that, teenage boys, after all. Ambrose? Ah, well put Professor Kesali, that's much like your colleagues write on his reports. All I can ask for, isn't it though?" No change there then...

"How are you? You look well, but looks can often be deceiving. It's easy to hide in a sea of faces no?"

"I'm better than I have been, thanks for asking." Francis replied softly, "Its good to get out and dance, be like things used to be. Its been a long year and a half." Since his wife, Claire had ended up in St Mungo's he meant. The whole Ministry knew around the time, but they'd forgotten again for a while now. The sudden absence of the court scribe was a speck upon the Ministry's history, rightly so.

Francis absent-mindedly twisted his wedding ring on his finger and looked past Kesali to the dancers, lowered his gaze, and then turned it back to the Professor with a smile, rather resembling his older son in the process.

"How are you, Professor, though? What made you choose here with its motley crew and foreign guests? The dancing and the glory of a Hogwarts win, perhaps?" Francis Pepper teased lightly. "You worked in Accidents and Catastrophes didn't you? Ah, well prepared for Hogwarts I would imagine then!"

Gods, he couldn't handle the heartache. His chest tightened around his heart as if to protect it, and his arms closed over the vessel as if to keep a chill out. He turned until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Francis, his feet a fair amount apart--like any good soldier as they spoke to their superior.

"Then let me tell you what they are not." He answered rather quietly, but with a firm and demanding voice. Gale cared greatly for his students, and in Ambrose he truly saw potential. The rest of their conversation died away, or at least Gale forced it. He would have happily told Francis of his time there, how happy he was, and how much of a difference a year did make. However, with a big deep breath he asked, "I am going to speak out of turn, Francis, if I may."

Without waiting for an answer he continued, "Ambrose is truly suffering here, and I'm not saying by social standards. He's well liked by his peers, and very respected. But when it comes to magic..." He refused to say it, "He's very aware of his issues, and we're working very hard on it. I gave him my word I will make it my personal mission to see him through his OWLs, and this was even before I knew he was your son. Now? I'll go through hellfire to get him there." He felt like an idiot for not putting the two together, "But I need you to do me a favor?"

And here came the hard part.

"Until now I hadn't even the slightest clue what was bothering him. With teenagers, you never know, but Mon Ami, maybe he needs to see you heal. Maybe then he can find peace. Maybe...Maybe I'm wrong, but has he been to counseling? I can't pretend to know what happened, or even think I could understand what it means to your family. You carry a far greater weight on your shoulders, than I ever will." At least until he became a parent, "But when my lover was killed all the King's Horses and all the King's Men couldn't put me back together. I had to find it within me to carry on." Gale touched his shoulder gently, "You are suffering too, and I can see that." He smiled, "You both have that same look." 

Gale fell silent a moment as he let his own gaze fall to his feet as he shuffled them, "Forgive me. This really isn't the right time. It's not my place, but I just care about your boys. I want nothing more than to see them succeed. Ambrose especially...he tries so hard. And you are a good father who has done a damn good job with the cards you have been given. I can't lie to you. He will not pass his OWL's at this rate. I'm barely able to pass him in Charms." There. It was said. 

"I am going to speak out of turn, Francis, if I may."

The unspeakable's eyebrows rose and he inclined his head in acceptance of the request, intrigued.

As he listened to Gale his heart sank. These letters from Ambrose, although he could pick up on the frustrations, must be appearing rather differently in person. It wasn't for lack of trying on either Pepper's part.

"... I will make it my personal mission to see him through his OWLs, and this was even before I knew he was your son. Now? I'll go through hellfire to get him there."

"Thank you." Francis spoke almost inaudibly, aware that this what not the end of the piece.

"But I need you to do me a favor?" Francis put down what he had in his hands and gave Gale the full attention he anticipated this might require.

Francis took a moment to let that all sink in and frowned.

"I know he's hurting, Gale." He began, trying to work out the way to explain things. "Out of the two of them, Ambrose has always seemed the most able to cope, and at least here he can try to forget."

Knotting his fingers together he inclined a little towards Gale, who was stood shoulder to shoulder with him,
"I was a mess when it all happened - Claire's boy - he's a lot older than my two - I lost him completely from it. We're doing better. Things are..." He paused, considering whether the next word were true for all of them, "mending, for me at least." His eyes had lingered on Gabrielle as he thought and spoke about it.

"You say he'll not pass his OWL? I appreciate you giving him the extra help, but I know this is unlikely to be just with Charms." Francis sighed, "I can't keep him at Hogwarts this Christmas - there are things we need to do as a family - but if he were to stay, he'd at least be able to practise. Improve... be happier." The father's features reached a bittersweet smile.

"Might need a small miracle, Gale. We'll muddle along, we're Peppers."

I know he's hurting, Gale.' […]'Out of the two of them, Ambrose has always seemed the most able to cope, and at here he can try to forget'

Gale's heart was absolutely breaking, he could feel it in shards around his feet, and wondered if there was anything he could do. Had his wife been looked at by everyone? Had she been treated in every way she could? Had they tried implanting memories? Have they…He stopped, his mind came to a halt. Of course he had. Francis would have done everything, and it wasn't his place to question. He hadn't known the entire story, only heard little bits of it here and there, but seeing the way Francis spoke of it now let him know that he'd suffered--truly suffered.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, and especially not here. But perhaps let me take you out one night soon hmm? All of you need a reset. Come, shoot a game of pool with my friends on the other side, and start again." Gale leaned in to be able to speak to Francis in a lower voice, shoulder to shoulder he tightened his fingers on the man's shoulder, "You carry very much on your shoulder's, My Friend, and in places like this you can not renew. I do not mean to add to your burden." He squeezed the man's shoulder before releasing it completely and stepping away enough to still be polite.

I can't keep him at Hogwarts this Christmas - there are things we need to do as a family.

"No, and you shouldn't. It's Christmas, but perhaps, we can find a middle ground? I am renting a nice flat in London for the Holiday, and…" He stopped not sure how to phrase this, "I think I'm on to something with him, at least…I want to keep exploring it. Maybe if he has some free time send him down, or I could come to you. But I think it could go either way? I think if he took the whole break, and just rested. We could hit it hard when he comes back." At a respectable distance he folded his hands behind his back, looking rather formal like a little soldier.

"I have faith. Miracles happen every day, no? I've not spilt a drink on anyone all night." It was his curse, he was certain.

She had been watching Francis in stealing glances ever since breaking part from him an hour or so ago, but was cautious as to not seem so rude to the dignitaries this evening. Gabrielle had yet to reacquaint herself with Salem's headmaster - a shame, that, because she found him entertaining to be around.

Just as much as it had been entertaining to watch her cousin and likewise, one of her mentors dance across the floor. She'd have to steal him from one if the orchestra began to play a laendler. Surely, Ignan knew how to still do one, right? "Mademoiselle Murray?" Gabrielle looked back to the company she had been speaking with. "My most sincere apologies. I.... I seem to have forgotten what we were speaking about. Would you please excuse me?" Gabrielle stated most apologetically, moving from them admist their French grumblings. She would send them a bottle of antique wine in a few days and they'd be all fine again.

She begun her search of her other half, soon finding him in the midst of a conversation with Gale. There had been a grin on her face, but it dimmed slightly when she overheard what they were speaking about. Muddle through Peppers, indeed. They'd been muddling for as long as the incident had occurred, hadn't they? Her body stayed still, voice silent until Gale finished his man pep talk to finally speak up herself.

"Mm, looks like someone else sweet has found my curly raggedy man. Hullo again, boys," she quipped, placing a sweet, quick peck to both of their cheeks before smiling shortly after. "I'm tired of being diplomatic for now, if you'll forgive me in saying so." Her eyes coasted over to Gale. "It's been a few weeks since I saw you last. Ready for the holiday break or...?"

Her eyes looked back over to Francis, smiling warmly at her beloved, all the gushy and fuzzy things swimming around in her belly. Hm. Dare she try and kiss him once again? Dare, indeed.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, and especially not here. But perhaps let me take you out one night soon hmm? All of you need a reset. Come, shoot a game of pool with my friends on the other side, and start again." Gale offered and Francis gave a gentle, thankful smile. He'd not done something like that in a while. The younger man was gripping his shoulder.
"You carry very much on your shoulders, My Friend, and in places like this you can not renew. I do not mean to add to your burden."

He was thankful to this strange-looking chap, it was heartening to hear something different from Hogwarts. It wasn't that they didn't try, but Francis, believed it was a phase that would be grown out of, not something that could blight his son's life before it had really got started.

"No, and you shouldn't. It's Christmas, but perhaps, we can find a middle ground? I am renting a nice flat in London for the Holiday, and… I think I'm on to something with him, at least… I want to keep exploring it. Maybe if he has some free time send him down, or I could come to you. But I think it could go either way? I think if he took the whole break, and just rested. We could hit it hard when he comes back. I have faith. Miracles happen every day, no? I've not spilt a drink on anyone all night."

Francis considered it - he'd have to speak to Ambrose about this all, last letter mention of Kesali had been anything but positive. For all Kesali's words now, were they also driving Ambrose to despair, or was this a reaction from that irritation the boy had with his tutor?

"I'll consider it, will have to speak with him. He's still under the trace, can't practise away from here." And there are things that I have to tell him about too, which he may not take well. If Ambrose and Kesali were on better footing, perhaps Ambrose might appreciate the escape to talk to his Professor. Perhaps he might also go and speak to Octavius, Ambrose's uncle, or Theta. He had no shortage of people to talk to - but Francis knew that it wasn't Ambrose's style to trouble them. Just like his father. 

Amongst the discussion he had spotted Gabrielle drawing closer, but hadn't anticipated she would return and join their discussion until she was right beside him.

"Mm, looks like someone else sweet has found my curly raggedy man. Hullo again, boys," He smiled genuinely as she spoke, receiving the kiss on the cheek which she gave to each of them.
"I'm tired of being diplomatic for now, if you'll forgive me in saying so. It's been a few weeks since I saw you last. Ready for the holiday break or…?" Francis was a little surprised to hear she had seen Gale lately, but reminded himself that she was after all, helping to run a Tetra-wizard Tournament at the school Gale taught at.

"Rest a while with us, then." Francis offered Gabrielle. "We can talk of domestic and undiplomatic causes instead." He took her arm and squeezed her hand fondly, gaze lingering longer than he might with a friend.

"We were just talking of Ambrose, Professor Kesali - Gale, is on a mission to ensure we solve things this year, for which I'm grateful. He also seems curious to discover my inability to play pool." Francis chuckled - he'd not played that since he was in his twenties.

"Whereabouts is your flat in London? You're most welcome to come and visit, have some dinner - we're in a Muggle abode, but, still accessible on the back step if you want to apparate." Francis looked to Gabrielle, "Gabrielle will hopefully be joining us for as much time as she can - she's my rock these days, and the boys enjoy her company."

I love her too, I'm leaving my addled wife who can't remember me for her arms, and it makes me so guilty, but I can't help myself. Francis added in his head.

"I'll consider it, will have to speak with him. He's still under the trace, can't practice away from here."

"Of course, talk to him, even if it's just for a short while. Maybe I'll go out and make sure he know how to shoot a good game." Gale grinned with a little jest, and folded his hands behind his back. "My flat is not far from the heart of the city actually. A loft house really, it's just a little splurge I made for the holiday. I'm in the process of trying to find a home of my own. I'd like to buy, my love--" Gale was cut off by Gabrielle, and his entire being shifted.

"Hello again," He answered to her every call (as always), "I am much more prepared now thanks to you." He recalled that night rather fondly, but it was only one thing that truly made his grin grow.

"I'm in the International Magical Cooperation department and just this fall did I come home from a sabbatical. As for going on holiday, that won't be happening until possibly late next summer and maybe I can convince my curly haired beloved to get out of his work. It's harder to grab him out of his department than my own."

He gave the pair a knowing look, but quickly turned his attention before they could catch his smirk. It would out him he knew it, but this wasn't his time to feel triumphant. Francis went on to fill Gabrielle in on their conversation, and Gale found that his attention had gone to where Ambrose was on the dance floor. How would he take this? Did he know?

"You are a lucky man, Francis, Gabrielle is a very wonderful woman. We ran right into one another," Literally,"A few weeks ago, and had a few drinks while talking of our love of curly haired men, and trips to exotic new places." If Gale had two eyes he would have winked at Gabby.

"I thank you for the invitation. I'd like that, especially the pool part. I'm rather fond of the idea, and when separated from my students my days and nights get mixed up. But what about you Ms. Gabrielle? Feel like, um..how you say? Painting the town red?" Or was it green? Maker it felt so good to smile and laugh, and Gale was amazed out how at ease he felt as he took a moment to let it all sink in.

I love her too, I'm leaving my addled wife who can't remember me for her arms, and it makes me so guilty, but I can't help myself. Francis added in his head.

You are not leaving her, Mon Ami, you can't leave someone that is already gone. Don't let this guilt swallow you whole, love is very powerful thing, and your wife would want you happy. Gale would have replied, but instead let his thoughts wander back to Ambrose and Tim--wishing he could just make it all right--fast forward to when this would all be memories they could laugh about.

"Gabrielle, how did that beer taste coming out your nose?" He asked finally with a wry smile.

Gabrielle listened to the conversation between the two men, raising a hand to her lips to stifle the yawn that had been waiting behind her lips the past twenty minutes. Watching Francis play pool amused her in all sorts of ways. Then again, her curly lover always had ways to make her laugh and smile. "I agree! You should come at some point for the holidays - I'll bake you a loaf of pumpkin gingerbread if so," Gabrielle encouraged willingly towards Gale with a smile and part cruppy eyed expression.

"As for the colour of painting, I'll leave it to you for the decision making." Looking towards Francis once more, Gabrielle watched him with keen interest. Luckily for Gale, it seemed, it provided the professor a chance to point out the witch's little mishap when they met. Her eyes jolted towards Gale in an instant.

"Oy... I mean, excuse me. Like right now, you caught me off guard with an inquiry if I had children, as I recall!" Gabrielle defended, her expression playful and a bit revengeful for the sudden revelation given. Her eyes trailed towards Francis, then back to Gale. "I'm not a mother unless you count being a hen of one to loveable ragamuffins like yourself."

Touché.

"You are a lucky man, Francis, Gabrielle is a very wonderful woman. We ran right into one another a few weeks ago, and had a few drinks while talking of our love of curly haired men, and trips to exotic new places." Francis was surprised and looked from Gale to Gabrielle, she'd talked about him? But they weren't really telling people?

He watched the two exchange discussion of painting the town, enjoying Gabrielle smiling.

"Oy... I mean, excuse me. Like right now, you caught me off guard with an inquiry if I had children, as I recall! I'm not a mother unless you count being a hen of one to loveable ragamuffins like yourself."

Francis chuckled.
"You're a mother of sorts to Ambrose and Tim." He patted her arm fondly. "And to so many in your department, relatives." Francis looked to Gale.
"She undersells herself. But no, not a mother in the 'traditional' sense." He leaned a little towards Gale. "I got down on one knee before her once, offered her that chance, but she was young, wild and full of adventure, and I was old before my time."