While Christmas Day was actually not that bad - he did like the presents he had, though he was unsure about his grandfather's present, a book about some rather dodgy material - the argument that night had left a bad taste in his mouth. He got up on Boxing Day and had a cauldron cake from the crate Johann had given him[1] solely to cheer himself up.

His father hadn't had a great time either. Later that night apparently Linus had gone to reprimand Mordecai about "bringing up his son to be soft". So, the first thing in the morning after his cauldron cake breakfast and a mug of hot tea, he apparated to Stuart Road.

As he'd expected, he found his father standing in the living room listening to the news on the wireless. Mordecai looked up as Arc entered the room. "Odd to see you up so early," he said. "What brings you here?"

"I wake up this early if I didn't do a graveyard shift the previous night." Arc hadn't taken his coat off. "But it's a holiday still, isn't it? Are you listening to the wireless just to see if you have work to do?"

"Maybe," Mordecai replied shiftily, and then relented. "Fine, I was hoping to take my mind off of last night."

"Funny." Arc leaned casually against the wall, hands in pockets. "I was thinking the same. Got time for a little duelling?"

His father laughed, running his hand through his hair. "I'm game, though I might be a little rusty. I didn't sleep very well last night."

"That makes two of us," Arc said, already grinning. "Two sleepy men out on the moors waving sticks at each other." Mordecai laughed again. "Come on, dad."

Once his father was dressed properly, Arc followed him into the back garden where Mordecai offered him an arm. A snap, a crack, and when they appeared, it was a flat field of dew-soaked grass with wisps of mist surrounding it. Around them were distant hills, their tops still heavily shrouded with mist as well, such was the early hours of the morning.

"All right, have you got anything new to show me, dad?" Arc asked, as they walked along a footpath. "The last time I duelled you I clearly recall you taking me out with a well-aimed Stun Charm."

"No, nothing new. I've spent more time in law books than in spells of late." Mordecai's walking pace matched his son's. He cast a quick spell to repel mist in front of them. "You come into contact with wandwork more than I do at our respective workplaces. It's difficult when you're the head of an office - most of your time is spent managing and administrating, not being out on the field."

"That's exactly why I don't think I would ever take up the Healer-in-Charge post at Mungo's," said Arc, as the mist parted in front of them due to Mordecai's spell. "I couldn't possibly manage people like you do. Makes me nervous."

"I'll confess, it makes me nervous as well sometimes. I don't have much of an excuse to falter." Mordecai looked at his son. "Neither do you, I realise, but when you're in a position of authority--"

"Where everyone looks up to you," Arc agreed. "I know."

"Well, if you ever feel likely to take it up, I'm sure your grandfather would be proud of you," Mordecai said. His son made a sceptic sound.

"If I do, I won't do it for him." Arcturus stepped around a patch of wet peat. A cold wind had picked up, and was sending his hair flying across his face. "I'll do it for the people who need me."

Mordecai nodded as if in approval, smiling fondly at his son. As the two men continued to walk across the moor, the ground became firmer and the vegetation less wild.

"Here, dad?" Arc finally said. Mordecai looked around at the empty grass around them, and then at the deserted moor and its hills, before taking a few steps back, measuring out some distance between them. He raised his wand straight upwards in front of his face. Arcturus pulled out his wand in one swift movement and did the same. For a moment the only sound in the moors was the calls of various birds waking up with the mist's retreat.

Mordecai struck first. A bolt of white lashed out at Arc, who swiftly blocked it with a shield spell and sent a flash the other way. Coat whirling out behind him, Mordecai deftly deflected it, sending a stream of red back at his son.

Anyone who would have mostly known the two as peaceful, rather subdued wizards at work would have been surprised to see how quickly they moved, almost dancing across their impromptu arena. Though the spells used were non-lethal, any spectator would easily believe that they were meant to at least punish the opponent in some form, such was the ferocity and speed at which the two men sent spells at each other.

Any trained duellist's eye would also be able to discern the duelling styles. Mordecai's was smooth, almost uninterrupted - he fired spells and blocked incoming ones in sweeping motions. Arc's was in the form of quick bursts, an alternative block-fire-block routine that changed pattern every once in a while. And while Mordecai's footwork was just as uninterrupted as his spellcasting was, turning it into an elegant movement of dodging and moving into position without once slouching, Arc's was fast, jerky, unpredictable, with ducking and feints.

There was no right or wrong here, simply how they'd learned to fight in real situations.

The grass was illuminated by the bright light from the spells flying through the air. Birds rose into the air in alarm as the spell cracks reverberated through the moor, carried by the cold breeze that dived in from over the hills. For an hour the two circled each other, no words at all as they fired spells.

Mordecai fired a bolt of lightning at Arc, who leapt out of the way, reflecting it off with a shield. He landed a little too heavily on the grass and slipped face forwards into the grass. Immediately Mordecai fired another bolt at him; Arc rolled literally seconds before it hit the grass in a burst of sparks where he had been. The healer shot a stream of water back at Mordecai, who leapt out of the way just barely as the water turned to sharp ice, giving Arc time to scramble back to his feet.

The tip of Arc's wand burst forth a yellow beam that he swung around towards his father, which broke into solid yellow glass shards flying towards him. Mordecai waved his wand in a complicated pattern; the ground erupted upwards and sent sharp stones towards Arc.

Both shards and stones stopped in midair barely inches from each other's face.

"Well, you can pull the other leg," Arc said, keeping his focus on his father. "That was not a demonstration of rust."

"And you didn't sleep badly enough." The stones were first to fall, the shards seconds later. Both disintegrated into thin air. "Not bad, though I am well aware I'm praising the one who was in an actual battle."

The healer shrugged. "Still weaker than you, dad. Some of those spells caught me off the hook. But you'll just keep complimenting me, huh? Can we take a break?"

"You need a break?" Mordecai said ludicrously. Arc gave him a sheepish smile in response. His father laughed, and conjured a large, dry stone for them to sit on. "All right, fifteen minutes."

The cool air ruffled their hair and coat collars as they looked out at the serene hills surrounding them. For a while neither of them said anything, watching as the mists rolled away from the hills and the sun rose into the sky. Finally Mordecai said, "So, your housemate - Elixa Mordent, am I right? Any plans?"

"No, dad - didn't mum tell you?" The shake of his father's head answered that. "It's just a casual relationship. I'm trying to get back on my feet again. Nothing major, so don't go celebrating about it." He gave his father a look. "That's the second time I've had to say that, please don't make me say it a third time."

"I understand, it's fine. Take your time." Mordecai glanced at a small butterfly fluttering past his sleeve. "It's been a tough time of late. I'd be surprised if you even had the interest of starting a new relationship during such trouble."

"Speak for yourself," said Arc, grinning. His father laughed and elbowed him gently in the shoulder.

"Considering you're not the kind of person who'd usually go looking regardless of the time of the year, I would indeed be surprised! You go with wherever your fancy takes you. I only hope in time your fancy takes you to your own family." He smiled at his son. "And I hope that despite all you've been through, everything on your end turns out well."

"I hope so too." Arc fiddled with the linen on the handle of his wand. "I like to think of it as a stepping stone. And Elixa's a good friend. There's not a lot of people I trust out there and you know that, but I trust her."

"Oh, now that's something." Mordecai raised his eyebrows, his tone one of pleasant surprise. "I think she's quite charming in her own way, but if you feel that she's not your type, then, well - I can't complain." He held up his hands. "If you're planning to spend time with someone for the rest of your life, might as well be quite picky over that someone."

"You weren't with mum." Arc grinned at his father's expression. "She told me. Are you going to tell me, 'Now, that was different'?"

"No, solely because you asked that question," said Mordecai, giving his son a look as Arc laughed. "But she was certainly someone I felt that I would never get fed up of. I wouldn't say a match made in heaven or any of the other clichés people spout about romance - she has had quite a lot to put up with from me, you, and anybody else in her life - but she has tenacity and love for people she cares for. Sometimes I think you get that from her, the way your passion runs for taking care of others."

"Heh." Arc looked down at the grass. "I hope saving insects was part of that? If not, I was a weird kid then."

"No, you're different." Mordecai got to his feet; Arc followed suit. "And we're happy with that."

Arc smiled, blushing a little, as they took position again, wands raised and at the ready. Though he didn't let up on the force of his spells and neither did his father, they had plenty of fun on their own that day.

He went home tired and aching, the mental exercise far more than enough to keep his head quiet for the remainder of his holiday until he returned to work the next day, but with a smile on his face.

1.	Patch Up Over Tea, 17th December