(Garage, in the car with muffliato on)

"Oh yeah - Professor Yang. She was cool." Ambrose remembered Juni telling him about Dietrich and Bai before now, but he'd forgotten that Magdalena was related too. She'd been one of several good looking but downright frightening Durmstrang champions.

"It's not my house," Ambrose explained with a smile, "It's my aunt and uncle's. Zeta lives here - I live down the road in Biggleswade. Our place is smaller. But yes, it does get rather busy on Boxing Day. Big family." He shrugged.

"It's the best part of the holiday so far."

Ambrose blushed and grinned at this.
"Really? Blimey, you really have had a rubbish Christmas," the Gryffindor exclaimed without really thinking through the implication of saying that to poor Juni. "I mean," he tried again, "I'm glad this is the best part of Christmas for you so far, because," his gaze dropped shyly a moment, "it's been the best part of mine too."

The spiciest pepper looked back up into Juni's eyes.
"Did you know you have the prettiest eyes?" He asked her, "they're really dark like conkers[1] fresh out of their shells. The best kind." He smiled gently, "And I love your freckles, I figure you're not keen because sometimes you say things about them, but I think they make you prettier."

His smile was growing, "I'd tell you that outside of an invisible, sound-proofed car too." The Gryffindor laughed, "but at least in here nobody can interrupt me." He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and squeezed Juni's hand.

"Juni?" Ambrose asked, still blushing, gaze glancing to her eyes a little nervously, "if I kissed you, would that be alright?"

1.	Britishism: conkers are horse chestnut seeds (also a game involving them on string, but he just means the seeds here)

Uncle Monty seemed to approve of the mistletoe. Perfect—he had a sidekick. A worthy accomplice. He was probably right though—the upper years didn’t usually need much encouragement. It wasn’t uncommon to catch couples snogging in the common room. Linus often wondered how they managed to breathe. Alvis and Moira didn’t seem like an affectionate couple. They held hands, but they were so tame.

“When people snog, how do they keep from poking each other in the eyes with their noses?” Linus asked innocently. He knew some people with rather large noses.

”Wingardium Leviosa.”[1] Linus whispered, urging the mistletoe to position itself above the teenagers.

1.	Information about the Trace. Feel free to discipline him!

Moira allowed herself to be herded to the garage with the others, though she could tell Alvis was reluctant in wanting to leave considering his hesitation at at the door. Linus had to be sent along by Professor Donovan afterwards as well, since he also seemed reluctant to leave the scene at first. As much as Moira felt for Gabrielle she believed it was for the best to just leave them all to it. A group of teenagers would just get in the way.

The cars they were led to see were.... cars. Though Ambrose grabbed Juni and slipped into one and made it vanish quickly enough. It was a handy feature for sure... but it was still a car. There was nothing wrong with them, handy pieces of machinery, she just preferred her living and breathing mounts.

Noticing Alvis' lack of interest - normally finding out how something worked was of large interest to him - Moira's attention slipped more fully back to her boyfriend. Hearing Monty's exclamation and question she cast a quick glance without really seeing the pair of them and whatever they might be up to before answering, "They're, uh, very nice cars."

The bit of flora floating above their heads registered somewhere as she saw it from the corner of her eye, knowing it as mistletoe and what it represented. A faint hint of red graced her cheekbones as it moved into position though if anyone were to comment she'd just say the room was warm. Linus seemed the mischievous sort to try a stunt like this. Maybe Alvis wouldn't notice it, preoccupied with his thoughts as he seemed to be. Some things were best ignored.

Ambrose very nearly put his foot in his mouth,. She took no offense-- he spoke earnestly. The Gryffindor was a genuine sort of person. He trusted easily in a way that made him gullible, and often time she had to clarify when she was being sarcastic. Juni didn't mind it one bit. She enjoyed his company.

Clearly, he felt the same. His compliments, though absolutely ridiculous-- both amused and warmed her heart. She bumped his shoulder playfully with hers and looked down at her lap. It was difficult to understand what he liked about the freckles and her eyes.  Still, Juni was not about to reject a heartfelt compliment, freely given. She felt heat rush to her face, the rosiness on her freckled cheeks rivaled Ambrose's blush.  "I didn't realize you were so eloquent." Juni teased, the warm tone in her voice betraying how flattered she felt.

Would it be alright if he kissed her?  Juni's eyes (conker-like, apparently) widened in surprise. Of course it would be.  Hadn't she made that clear? Well then. It was time to make it clearer.

With a racing heart, she took a leap-- not knowing exactly what to expect. He'd given her a little peck before, but this time would be much more intentional. She wasn't going to leave room for confusion. Juni cupped his cheek with her free hand, and kissed him right then and there, soft and sweet. Still blushing, Juni pulled away, an accomplished, sly smile spreading across her face.

"Wingardium Leviosa." It took a moment for the older wizard to remember Linus was not meant to be using magic. It was what happened after a glass or two of wine, a family disagreement and a few fireballs.

Moira clocked the mistletoe first but resolutely ignored it. Both she and Alvis were rather lukewarm about the whole day. Contrast to Juni exclaiming far too loudly with Ambrose just a moment ago. Teenagers!

"Ah fer heaven's sake." He tugged at his beard, "It's Christmas, and just a bit of mischief." The painter shrugged at the two teenagers who were acting like it was a wet Wednesday. "And oi," he tapped Linus on the head with his wand, "use yer fingers. Improper Office has got a beady eye on this house as it is, Li, you trying to get me in trouble?" His own wand intervened with a flick, lifting the mistletoe while he reached out with his left to ruffle his young relative's hair.

He stuck his tongue out at Linus, never one to enjoy ticking off the children. He was rather fond of Linus, and treated him like a son he'd wanted alongside three daughters. Had he been his son, Monty's laid back parenting might have created a greater monster where Audrey's boundaries prevented such.

"Come on," he interjected eventually, seeing he was losing the battle, Tim seized the mistletoe out of the air and scrambled from the back seat, darting unsuccessfully away from Linus, "I'll show you what I've been working on while you've been at school - well, other than the portraits in the studio."

The younger ones had already had a good look at the ones he had in the window-filled room at the back of the house, and met a couple of the talking ones who were being kept safe while their subjects visited regularly to talk to them while they made arrangements to house them out of sight at home. Perhaps it would be safe to return to the belly of the house in a few minutes.

The tarpaulin slid off and flopped to the garage floor, attempting to fold itself neatly but flailed like a fish on land instead. Beneath it was a gleaming motorbike, all chrome exhaust and engine, and a beautiful hand-painted tank of clouds and a great dragon.

"Been thinking I might get you youngsters more into the motorbikes - bit like brooms you see, speedier, a little sexier," he elbowed Alvis with a wink, though in retrospect the young Ravenclaw had the implication lost on him. Even if he'd done it to Ambrose he might only have got a giggle out of Juni, but the two of them were in the other car. He'd knock on the window in a bit… his nephew didn't need further embarrassment that day.

"What do you think Moira, could I keep up with your horses?"

"Wow," Ambrose spoke as Juni pulled away, "I'm - I'm going to have to do that again." He leaned further over, reaching for Juni's right shoulder furthest from him to bring them together again.

All notion of months of kissing Cyhirae Trishna seemed to drop out the back of his mind. This was all fresh and new and different. Really good different. Fireballs and flaming curtains felt like last week.

"Conkers," he said suddenly as they stopped again, "I meant - something - anything - better than bloody conkers." He winced, "You're really good at kissing. Did you know?"

"Interesting? Bloody marvellous you mean! Come on Moira, what d'ya think? Here was me thinking I could convince Alvis to come work with me next summer in America…"

"Eh?" Alvis startled from his gloomy thoughts, his body giving a jerk of surprise. "America, for real? Blimey, that'd be...wow. I mean, I got a look at some of their music player tech during the tournament, but that'd be small potatoes compared to these..."

In eagerness, his weight gradually shifted towards his toes again, lifting him off his heels for a better look at the engines and wires. And that was the only reason he noticed the mistletoe. Borne aloft by the second-year's charm, it hung just low enough that his head brushed the longest bow. His eyes went up, his heels snapped down, and his face went firebrand-hot. "Linus!"

It wasn't that he minded kissing Moira. Godric, of course he wouldn't mind; not doing so made the list of Top Ten Things He'd Regretted during the twelve hours he'd thought he was going to die of Streeler venom. But that was private, this was not,  their real (not faked, not pretend) relationship was barely twelve old and, despite what school rumors claimed, they'd never done anything like that.

And now Monty'd taken control, saving wee Hughes the Trace citation but not taking the blasted thing away. Alvis looked helplessly to Moira, knowing that the only way they'd get out of this awkward state would be to just do it, give the pranksters what they wanted so they'd stop. With his face turning a slow, molted strawberry-red, he squeezed Moira's hand once as an apology and warning before reluctantly dipping in to steal the kiss.



It was not a good kiss. He knew that, though he'd only two others to compare it to. It was too quick and too short and his glasses bumped against her cheek. He couldn't tell, pulling away, which of them was more embarrassed.

Still, it was enough. Monty prompted them on to the next invention while Tim (bless him) snatched the mistletoe and scrambled from the back seat. Alvis lingered, holding tight to Moira's gaze and to her hand for just a few seconds before letting go of both and hurrying to stand by at the tarpaulin's reveal.

He blinked when Monty elbowed him, bewilderment tipping his head towards one shoulder. That word, sexy, didn't match the way he thought of machines. It didn't match the way he thought of anything, really. Not even his girlfriend. But he did have to admit that the cycle was gorgeous -- hand-polished, probably hand-constructed and, knowing Monty, full of magic and machines to make travel easier.

With an indistinct sound of approval, he approached the machine first to admire the painting on the back (Monty's painting was exquisite, as always) and then to follow the connecting paths of tubes, wires, motor and exhaust. "I don't know about horses, but you'd for sure give brooms a run for their money." Not that he'd ever say that to Grandad. "Did you import the parts or enchant them? Was it whole when you started working?"

Ah, there was the usual curious Alvis. The mention of working in America seemed to have done the trick in bringing him out of whatever gloomy thoughts he was in. They were better than day nightmares in the sense that outside things could stimulate his mind away and in other directions. Good thing that was.

As for the mistletoe it appeared he thought the only way out was to briefly give in. His red face and the squeeze to her hand warned her of his intentions well enough, still her eyes widened marginally as he dipped down towards her and kissed her.

By dictionary terms that was a kiss, however she wasn't sure it actually counted as one. The few times she had thought about it this was most certainly not what she had pictured. Despite what people thought at school, her cousin included, she'd never had any practice at it and beyond the annoying couples in the hallways she hadn't observed either.

Moira trailed along after them mostly because Alvis was still holding her hand. Now it was she who was lost in thought while the others talked, even the mention of horses didn't immediately pull her back though she heard and filed it away on a subconscious level.

She hadn't heard the door to the kitchen open nor close, but detected that faint crunch of snow beneath one's feet. Quickly, Gabrielle wiped her eyes of the evidence of her emotions, hoping to not be pressed into a corner of more guilt, insult. However, the insults, the guilt never showed -- instead, it was warm, gentle arms wrapping around her form. And that sigh, that voice. Gabrielle smiled weakly as Francis began to speak.

Eyes met one another soon enough. Gabrielle's lips put on its faux bravado, fully aware Francis would detect the mirage.

"I still love you."

How could she ever be mad, upset with words said to her in such a manner?

"I love you all the same and much more than that. You're beyond all hopes, dreams I ever had in the last handful of years. The reaction was different than what I had hoped for -- definitely those fireballs. However, if they...they never come around, I know you're unconditionally going to love me, love our child, our family even." Sniffling, Gabrielle leaned back against the warmth of Francis' chest, smiling. "I'm sorry that they insulted your devotion to Claire...even more sorry that they make it seem you never loved her to begin with. However, I hold to my promise: The boys will always have that opportunity to visit her grave site, that we'll remember her."

Gabrielle shivered as a brief gust of cold air pierced through.

"I'm not ready to go back inside, not just yet, but it's bloody freezing."

"Did you import the parts or enchant them?" Alvis asked, and Octavius smiled with renewed vigour, glad young Norling had come to again. Years back they'd suspected he might be a good apprentice for Francis making timeturners, which had been the source of some animosity with Ambrose, what with ordinarily being a direct descendent to carry things on. Luckily nephew was 'safely' contained in one of the vehicles. If Norling were interested, that'd be a turn-up for the books, Octavius persuading him instead of Francis…

"Ministry won't let me import the parts pre-charmed," Monty explained, "Same with the orders of cars i've taken over here. I have to reconstruct, and well, yes, does break a few laws, but they've got to catch me at it. Besides," he thrust a finger out at the garage wall where the Daily Prophet declared Dementors Driven Off[1] in a frame. "I think the Ministry could be persuaded to come to my viewpoint if they ever took me up on my offer to build them something that can draw the dementors out to sea."

1.	23 May 2010 - Dementors Driven Off

"We'll remember her how she was," Francis agreed, "not how she became. That wasn't Claire." Gabrielle had been there through it, heard this all first time round, and since. He felt a slight guilt in saying it now, but she was his best friend, for all his years, and she knew how he felt for her and always had.

"It is bloody freezing yes," He agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Definitely warmer inside, flameballs aside. Octavius has taken the younger ones to the garage." Francis stood a little closer and rubbed Gabrielle's arms. "Did you want to go home? I can always come and collect the boys and Moira later? I mean, Catherine would probably be fine with them stopping over, everyone together, depending on how her nerves are now." He glanced over his shoulder to the kitchen window where he could see his sister in law, Catherine, hugging her two younger daughters, Zeta and Eta, one under each arm.

"I'll be glad to see this year blow through," Francis sighed, "Aside from certain recent high points, of course." He leant forward and kissed Gabrielle's cheek gently. "Next year will be ours, my love. One of our own, and getting married. All together in Wiltshire." Francis smiled genuinely, pressing their faces together and squeezing Gabrielle's shoulders tight. "I love you, my darling."

He always knew what to say in the right moments.
Always.

Though shivering in the littlest of ways, Gabrielle stayed fixated upon the matter of Francis' voice, touch. There was gratitude to be had for such a diversion in a moment of discomfort, disappointment. Yes, Audrey truly had a right to be upset - - all the Hughes, Peppers, did, about Claire's passing. Why it seemed that Gabrielle wasn't in tune to their grief baffled the blonde witch as her wishes were clear and justified. She wanted the Hughes and Peppers, Claire's friends and co-workers, her mediwizards and mediwitches to feel the pain of loss. After all, to rob someone of their time spent in grief was cruel, inhumane; neither of them described Gabrielle by a long mile.

"I don't want to go home, no. I'm not a coward nor do I wish to be painted, imprinted as one, love," Gabrielle began, fire in her belly as her expression grew dark for a moment while resting still yet in his hold. "It was never once the intention to have Audrey so infuriated, let alone, dispelling fire at us. Even in grief, what in their right mind makes someone think it's acceptable!? Thankfully the draperies felt that wrath." The added rub of his hands to ease the chill really did help as did his kiss.

"Next year and the ones to come after that, I truly do hope it's for the better opposed to the worse. However, these missteps are only meant to help build our relationship closer, yes?" Gabrielle responded, tilting her head backwards to smile and gaze into her husband to be's gorgeous eyes right as Francis pulled them together. "Together in Wiltshire, yes." A lingering kiss bloomed from his profession of love, allowing Gabrielle to settle down slowly but surely. Pulling away, her worried brow began to ease and a soft smile to take its place.

"I love you too."