To Hestia, Hanukkah had always been Hannah's holiday. The mother of seven sons who raised them right to be good, upstanding men. To be unwavering in their virtue. It didn't really matter that the Antiochus had killed each of them one by one, starting with the oldest. That was the unpleasant part of the story. Hestia had liked the way "Hanukkah" had sounded like "Hannah-kuh," when she'd first converted. At age nineteen, it had sounded like a story of female empowerment and resistance. Hannah had had seven sons. Together, as a family, they brought about change that was still celebrated today.

Hannah had had seven; with two to keep her busy, Hestia had no idea how the woman had managed it. She smiled as Dreogan entered the front room with Akiva, setting her coat down on the back of the sofa. He moved over into the kitchen to her to give her a distracted kiss on the cheek. With her wooden spoon, Hestia delivered a soft smack upon the small of his back.

"What?" he protested.

"It's Hanukkah," she said with a frown. "Is that the best I get?" She glanced back at Akiva. "He better treat you better. Hanukkah or no."

Dreogan blushed and grinned. "Happy Hanukkah, mum," he said, giving her a more sincere hug. He glanced back at Akiva. "One minute; I'm going to quickly send a message . . ." he trailed off as he began to wander back into Hestia's bedroom.

Hestia gave a sour sigh as he walked away, looking at Akiva sympathetically. "Impossible." To Dree, she called over the sound of frying, "That better not be about work! It's almost sundown!" And it was. And Adon was still not here. Which would be typical for him, but forgivable today because he was bringing Jacoba. The boy probably knew he had a "get out of jail free" card with her around.

The moment Dreogan had disappeared – Hestia knew exactly where but didn’t know why, something she would make a point of finding out in discussion later when he couldn’t be evasive – she turned to Akiva. “Your mother makes latkes; I’m sure she does it much better than I do. This is a first attempt.”

Which was, of course a lie. Hestia had practiced it at least three times before in order to be sure that her “first” attempt would be perfect. She waved Akiva over to the stove where she was working to inspect. “Well?” she asked, hands on her hips in a despairing fashion, stepping aside to let her daughter-in-law (not yet, she reminded herself), intervene.

This allowed her to go about fussing with some other things in the kitchen. “Your parents are kind to let us borrow you, tonight; I promised them I’d have you back tomorrow, but I think it’s Jacoba’s first Hanukkah. I’ll be glad to have a little help here.” She thought for a moment. She was silent a moment, pausing with her hands upon the cupboard before finally saying in as innocent, non-invasive a way as possible, “What will you and Dree be up to tomorrow, do you think?”

And while she had two sons who more than occupied her time, it was rather hard to have to share.

To be truthful, Akiva was nervous about going to Dree’s Mother’s house for Hanukkah.  It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been over there before, and she knew the woman knew her way around the kitchen, probably even better than Akiva did, but it was an important holiday and that meant it had to be right – everything had to be perfect.  So, it started with getting ready, and that meant Akiva had always been taught to bring a gift whenever you went somewhere, particularly if it was for a larger gathering. 

So, with that in mind, she had set out earlier in the day to make a large loaf of challah bread, though she noted her braiding wasn’t exactly perfect… She had given it her best shot though, and it at least smelled right.  Then it came to getting dressed, which Akiva had slightly less of a problem with, but she wanted to look nice – be impressive to some degree.  So, she settled on a purple dress as her viable option and fussed with picking everything to go with it, with the exception of the small, silver star of David that she never took off.

When they did finally, leave, arriving made her heart beat just a smidge faster in her chest.  Dree was ever steadfast though, partially because it was his mother – she suspected that the roles would reverse when they went to her parents’ house.  Whatever the case, he helped her slide off her jacket and she smiled over her shoulder at him, a quick thanks as he laid it over the back of the couch before ushering her to the kitchen – where something delicious was clearly being cooked up.

She smiled softly at the mother and son, blushing as Hestia indicated that she hoped Dree treated her better.  She was not sure how to answer – she supposed her blush was enough, and as soon as Dree was done hugging,. Akiva moved forward, holding up the challah bread with a smile, “Happy Hanukkah,” she greeted, one arm to hug her around the shoulder with a cheek kiss, the other still holding onto the bread, “I made this earlier,” she smiled,  offering the loaf wrapped in cloth, as customary. 

Dree was not going to stick around for long though, and Akiva glanced at him with a bit of a frown – Hestia saying what Akiva would not say out loud.  “Be quick,” she half-asked half-told, though he was already walking away by the time she got to say it.  She laughed awkwardly with a bit of a shrug as Hestia declared he was impossible, “He’s been very busy,” Akiva tried to make the excuse for him – he had been, though something told her a mother didn’t care much about how busy he had been, it was a holiday and that meant he had to step away from work for a bit and spend time with family.

She figured as soon as Adon and Jacoba – she figured Jacoba was coming (she had been around for a bit, hadn’t she?) he’d be forced to abandon work for the rest of them.   It gave Akiva some time alone with Hestia though, which was, though nerve wracking, a good thing.  She was her future mother-in-law and it would be infinitely easier for everyone if they got along – which, Akiva thought they did, but she didn’t want to do anything to ruin it.  Being called over to the stove was a big enough honor and Akiva did not hesitate, her heels click against the hard floor.

She could smell the frying potato and smiled to herself, glancing at Hestia.  “They look – and smell – amazing,” she assured her, seeing that they were just the right thickness and browning so nicely.  “You’ve outdone yourself,” Akiva smiled, wrinkling her nose as she grinned, “I’ll have to tell my mum she’s got some competition,” she added with a bit of a wink, surprised to be left near the frying potato pancakes so Hestia could move about the kitchen.  Kiv was well aware they did not have the exact same eating patterns, being of different regions, and it was so nice of Hestia to do this for her. 

“They don’t mind,” Akiva waved off any apology about taking her away from her parents, she had upwards of twenty-five or so Hanukkahs with them (minus a few for different reasons) and though she was a little sad to leave her parents alone tonight, they’d probably have dinner with some of their Temple friends, or her father’s colleagues who liked to come over for whatever occasion they could make up a reason for being there.  Lifting up one of the latkes, just to check that it wasn’t burning, Akiva raised her eyebrows in thought as Hestia asked what they would be doing tomorrow. 

“After work, we’ll probably go to my parents’ house.  Mum is excited about it,” she laughed softly, recalling the conversation in which Nora attempted to figure out everything she was going to make a week in advance.  “My mum extends the invitation, by the way,” Akiva flipped the latke smoothly and without too much oil jumping – almost a natural action after so many years of preparing this same dish, “if you’d like to join us.”

As Akiva blushed, Hestia realised that she and Dreogan would one day have very adorable, very red-faced babies. Blushes flourished at the lightest jab. The littlest comment was cause for provocation. Really, their children had no chance.

But the children were also likely to be impossibly agreeable, enchantingly endearing, and completely, blissfully happy, if their parents were any indication. At least by nature, if not condition. Things were less than ideal at present, but they'd rally. The Eleors always did. And the two were so utterly suited for each other. Hestia only worried that they might endear each other to bits or fret themselves to pieces. But mommas were the glue of the family, and Hestia would do what she could.

She smiled knowingly as Akiva made herself at home in the kitchen. Nothing like putting a woman to task in an area of expertise to make her feel right at home. The activity had also been calculated as an instructive one. Hestia had surmised from now that she did not need to prod or jab Akiva to take good care of her son -- Akiva fed him regularly and babied him horribly; Hestia was hard pressed to find anything Akiva had not done that Hestia could reasonably do. Particularly as Akiva branched into lamb dishes. It was a sad and sorry thing, really, watching one's duties assumed by another. Hestia would not have it any other way, but the smile grew a touch sad for a moment.

Though it was not, after all, a lesson in taking care of her son. It was a lesson in how to take care of her son. Dreogan was particular. He liked things orderly and according to custom. He was a good Jewish boy who followed the law. It was to be expected. And Akiva was a good Jewish girl. But she needed to know the Law of the home. The Eleor home. Because, as far as Hestia Eleor was concerned, Akiva already was an Eleor.

And so, when the praise came, Hestia flushed a bit, muttering a humble "Oh, you're too kind to say that. Really," she insisted, looking quite pleased. Of course it was nearly perfect. Hestia had made certain of that. And of course she could not say as much. Hestia Eleor never outdid herself. She never allowed her parameters to be confined by what she had done. Only what she could.

To the fact that Nora had competition, well, that much was already evident.

Hestia did flush fuss a bit in her response to the extended invite. Now Nora had quite outdone her in her generosity. Hestia had not extended any such invite to the Katzes, though she ought to have. They weren't in her congregation, and the first person to act was always a little uncertain of the boundaries. Hestia hadn't been certain they would have wanted to come and, though loathe to admit it, Hestia rather wanted just one night to herself, without having to divide attention.

Of course, it was likely the Katzes felt the same and were merely extending out of courteousy. Trying to respond as smoothly as possible, Hestia began to gather plates from a cabinet. This was really Dree's role and the boy knew it. Maybe if the plates clattered loud enough, he'd hear and be obliged to come out. "Oh, well, I believe Adon and I already have some plans set for tomorrow night. But there are six more nights after that. We will all have to get together. What are your favourite Hannukah traditions? I would love to meet your parents. I know Dreogan enjoys their company."

Excepting very few, Dreogan enjoyed everyone's company, but she would not say that. These were the individuals responsible for raising Akiva. They had to be very kindly sorts of people. Hestia would have to perfect the dish she'd contribute to the meal. Perhaps something very British. A pudding of some sort.

There was a momentary lapse in which Hestia realised with a sinking feeling and some agitation that Dreogan was not going to come assume his filial duties. She looked back at Akiva, bent slightly over the latkes, and at the bangle on her wrist. That poor girl. She looked so much healthier now. And happier. Dreogan, on the other hand, seemed rather thinner and more troubled than usual, particularly after duelling that man in Hogsmeade. It made her heart hurt a little.

"Tell me, Akiva," she said in a soft tone, "is Dreogan always this . . . absent?" That she had to ask this information from her future daughter-in-law hurt even more. Adding quickly, she said, "He has always been a bit absent-minded, of course. But I'm rather used to his physical presence, however the brain might be dawdling in unknown corners."

It was always funny, how invitations were offered and under what circumstances they came about.  It was always hard bringing families together, though considerably easier when those families were small.  Akiva was lucky in that it was only the three of them.  Her mother and father were the rocks in her life, though there were always people around – usually other professors or professionals, it had been those two there the whole time, and her grandmother, of course, but she had passed away years ago. 

She faltered for a moment, as a stray drop of oil jumped up.  She moved her hand quickly, but her mind lingered – her grandmother had managed to be the best at basically everything, particularly making holiday meals.  It was always a sad realization that she was not there.  Clearing her throat, Akiva nodded with a bit of a sad smile, glad she was facing the latkes instead the rest of the kitchen where Hestia could see her.  “Of course,” she smiled in response to the decline, she hadn’t really expected anything to come of it – it was one of those courtesy things, you did it because you did it – not that her mum did not like Hestia – in fact, she was very eager to meet her and spend some time with her, but rather was not sure what traditions were common and which were not.  Akiva had found, on several occasions, that though both families were Jewish, there were some vast differences in Eastern European versus Israeli. 

The shift and transition was interesting for her though, a melding of two seemingly similar things that were, in reality, as different as could be.  Sometimes she felt that way about Dree – there were moments where she could swear they were thinking the exact same thing and then the next, something completely out of the left side of the pitch would occur.  And there were a lot of nights of the holiday left.  “They figured,” Akiva smiled in the same way, trying to smooth things over, “but wanted to be sure.  Whatever night is best, we could definitely work something out,” she blushed, embarrassed to be even thinking about it – but figured maybe it would be a good time to say it, “Maybe, we could even do it at Dree’s and my house… so neither of you really have to go out of your ways.” 

It would be a big deal if Akiva could host a night of Hanukkah.  She wasn’t sure how Dree would feel about it, but it was far less pressure on him, really.  It was going to be Akiva in the kitchen.  Yes, it was her decision on this one.  It would go well.

“Well, when I was little, we’d go to my grandmother’s house in the country,” she remembered the disgustingly long car ride, staring out the window and listening to the radio warble as she kicked her feet and fussed with her dresses, “and she’d have dinner waiting when we got there – the house always smelled amazing, just like latkes,” she laughed, recalling standing on the stool in the kitchen to watch.  “After dinner, we’d sit in the living room and bubbe would, without fail, tell the Hanukkah story and then whatever other stories came to mind.  I think that was always my favorite part,” she glanced up from the pan on the burner, “Dad tells the stories now, but it’s not the same.  He’s too… much of a professor about it,” she laughed and shook her head. 

“After she passed away, Mum and Dad started inviting friends from temple and even dad’s colleagues who just wanted to experience a holiday – and my mum’s cooking – come to our house.” She laughed again, “when I was still living at home, I think Dad purposefully invited the unmarried ones,” she giggled.  These were all pleasant memories, fond recollections of life as it had been then, and maybe how happy it could be now, with new people mixed in and sharing.  She had always liked that part too, it made for very fun holidays, particularly when Dad taught them how to play dreidel and inevitably ended up making quite a few pounds that evening. 

Ruminating over her happy memories, she lifted the perfectly browned latkes out of the pan and onto a plate with towel paper on the counter next to the burners – perfect for soaking up the excess grease, and took replacements from the premade pile to put down into the oil with a steady hand.  She faltered only slightly as Hestia’s voice took on a tone that Akiva did not immediately recognize, and while the raw potato hissed and popped in the pan, Akiva turned her head – an embarrassed sort of look overcoming her almost immediately.

Did even his mother know that he spent that much time working and not at home?  Was this a critique on her; that she couldn’t keep him home for some reason?  No, no.  She assured herself she was being silly and it was merely a mother’s concern for her son, for his well-being.  She shrugged and turned back to the task, putting another pancake into the pan – they’d cook at different rates now, more concentration required.  “He has been working quite a bit,” she answered honestly, “but he does his best.  I think there’s a lot going on right now.” 

She didn’t have solid answers.  She knew vaguely what he was working on, but due to the nature of his work, it was impossible for her to ever fully known what was going on.  “He shouldn’t be much longer. I told him tonight was family time,” she smiled at her future mother-in-law, hoping that would suffice, though she had a thousand other things she could say about how she wished he worked a little less and took some time for himself, he tended to sleep poorly and seem distracted a lot of the time, it worried her.  “But, you know, he’s very dedicated to his work,” she made the excuse more for herself than his mother, checking the underside of the potatoes again.  “Has he always worked so hard?”

"There is a thought," Hestia said brightly. She'd been to Dreogan's only once, and Akiva had not been there. Due to this, Hestia had made her visit as brief as possible. It was odd, without the ruler of the household, there. Her absence made, of course, the stray littered object or undone dishes entirely forgivable. One always forgave absent regents. It was likely that Dreogan had been the one to muck it up anyhow, though he was remarkably tidy for a man. Still, Hestia'd felt like an intruder, constantly looking over her shoulder, waiting for Akiva to appear. This time, with an invitation, it would be much more comfortable, and she could be at ease.

"Too much a professor?" Hestia repeated as she began to fold the napkins with a soft, delicate precision. She pulled out her wand and began to fold the cloth into ornate forms: swans and stars, roses and pinwheels. "I think I have some notion," she said with a sly smile, "of what that might be like." A momentary wash of grief swept over her, though she bent her head over her folding and kept the smile on with an unwavering determination. "My husband was like that, too. My children grew up using words like Laodicean, episteme, and. . . ideological state apparatuses." And look at them now. For Hestia, that was her nostalgia. Without Dreogan, her Dreogan, holidays didn't have the same rigorous sense of purpose. You always felt grounded with Dreogan, with feet driven in like roots into the foundation of the earth. With Dreogan, one had a sense that things must be. And the things that must be always would be. There was the inevitability of improvement. The persistence of morality. It had been why Dreogan Eleor, Sr. had been loved. Not just by Hestia, though she most of all. He was loved by intellectuals. The wizarding community. Israel. And his death had been a Fall -- the loss of all those things they'd stood for. Because he'd stood for light, they were in the dark. Morality tended towards immorality. And hope, despair.

But the son was a good deal like a father, and he'd emerged, like his own progeny, like a phoenix out of the ashes so that it was hard to tell who had created whom. Dree was certainly his father's son, trying to live in his image. But she wondered, perhaps, if  they'd, in the seventeen years since he left them, created their own Dreogan Eleor, Sr. in their memories. It was possible that Dree was living up to an ideal that was all their own.  Dree had taken after his father since birth. He became his father, though, upon his death. Was it fair to expect it of him?

“Has he always worked so hard?” Akiva asked. Hestia looked up, considering her daughter-in-law with a hawk-like perception. Their thoughts were so very in-tune.

"No," Hestia said, surprised at how quickly the admission came out. But she had considered it for a while now.

"People forget--even Adon, I think--that Dreogan wasn't born an adult. That he has a sense of humour." She smiled. "He was always a studious boy. He would have been head boy, you know," she said in a necessary boast. "And this is not just a mother speaking. He was actually selected before he left school. They tried to talk him out of it, but," she shook her head. "That's when, I think, he became so serious." Dree had broken off on his own. Hestia hadn't liked it, and if she could have changed that now and prevented it, she would have. She still did not know what had happened -- entire months lapsed in his recounted tales to her. "He was happy when he was teaching, though. I think, really," she said, leaning in a bit conspiratorially, "he got along more with the students than the teachers. He was very young, and I don't think he was altogether responsible. Did you know? He almost went skydiving." That boy, Eldwynn Penn, had talked him into it. Almost.

The truth was, Dreogan had been more and more dedicated to work and less and less able to smile since May--the Remembering Day fiasco had, somehow, unsettled her son more than most in the wizarding community. He'd been a bit more nervous, a bit more quiet, a bit more recalcitrant. A momma's instinct told her to look at the changes in his life, the most notable being Akiva. But in August, Hestia had seen what Dreogan was without her--a shambles of a man--and felt more indebted to Akiva than ever. If anything, Akiva was one of the only counteracting forces keeping Dreogan's thoughts from turning too far inward.

"You make him very happy, Akiva," she added sincerely. This was, without a doubt, the highest compliment that Hestia could give. Presumably because no one had ever qualified to be praised on their yorkshire pudding. On some things, Hestia would be adamantly critical.

She was thoughtful a moment, straightening and standing over the napkins, looking at the wall as she considered. Turning to face Akiva, she said, "You haven't seen pictures of him as a child, have you?"

The enthusiasm in Hestia’s voice was promising.  Akiva liked to think that she could host a good meal, a meaningful meal for both families.  The first step was getting the usual hosts behind it, and it sounded as though there was a distinct possibility she could actually pull it off.  Grinning to herself, she nodded eagerly, her brown hair bouncing on her shoulders, “Just owl me whatever nights are best for you and I can talk to you my parents too,” she offered happily, “it would be fun,” and a good experiment in family blending. 

It was a valid concern, Akiva wanted their families to get along.  Thankfully they were both very small families so there was none of the nonsense involved of extended members and trying to please everybody and everyone, they both had a tendency toward that in their daily lives, it didn’t need to extend beyond nuclear family bonds.  Plus, Akiva’s main concern was, once children entered the equation – as they would in the next few years, she did not want to have to divide up the important things if everyone got on well enough to do it together. 

That was the future though – the future beyond what she could consider anyway, and Akiva wanted to make sure that the present was as well cared for as what she wished to accomplish in the short term.  She smiled warmly at Hestia as she indicated she might know something of the professor dynamic, down to the impact on her children.  She giggled softly, imagining a very small Dree with equally as wild hair denouncing the state apparatus.  “My dad is very similar,” she smiled, “I remember walking into astronomy asking about gravity equations and any other physical mathematical applications…” she shook her head, “I was doomed from the start.” 

It appeared though, that something different had happened for Hestia and her family, clearly, since Dreogan Sr was no longer around.  Akiva had talked to Dree about it once or twice, particularly during and somewhat after the argument the day she came home from Tulo’s.  It had been something to convey a level of understanding; she could see there was some level of agony still surrounding the topic.  It made sense, she couldn’t even begin to understand, but at least it was a fond memory of a loved one.  Akiva had them frequently, though she could not imagine fond memories of her husband who disappeared.

Glancing in the direction where Dree disappeared, Kiva sighed softly.  She hoped he would not go down the same exact path his father went down.  His mother talked about him so fondly though, with so much love in her voice, conveying the lively and amusing person Dree had been.  There were glimpses of it everywhere, she noticed it when he wasn’t worrying about work or thinking about the next thing that had to be done.  She remembered it a lot more from when they had first started dating.  There were still those times though, and Kiva loved it.  “Skydiving?” she raised her eyebrows, lifting her field of vision from keeping track of the food to Hestia, “I… well… actually,” she smiled a bit, “I’m not very surprised.  One of his suggestions for us going out was rock we all climbing,” she giggled softly, remembering it vividly. 

She wished they had time for things like that.  Most of the time, when they were with one another, it was spent at home.  It was nice, but it wasn’t going out and doing unexpected things – like climbing into a stranger’s car.  It was all happy in her mind, the things they did and experiences they shared, even when things were awful, Dree stabilized her and made things a little better.  So, when Hestia said Akiva made Dree happy, she blushed deeply and played with her hair for a moment, stepping away from the pan and the latkes so no stray strands would jump off her head. 

“I…” she didn’t know how to respond except blush horribly and smile to the point that her cheeks hurt.  It was a nice compliment to receive from his mum, very sincere and meaningful.  “Thank you,” she twirled her hair about her finger like an embarrassed little girl and smiled again, “He… I love him a lot,” she finally fully responded, blushing as though it were some sort of secret – it was clearly very obvious, but she had never really declared it to anyone but Dree or her mum.  It seemed so… private… It actually felt kind of nice to say, actually. 

And she perked up at the prospect of pictures.  Dree never showed interest in looking at them and well, he didn’t really have any from what she went through unpacking, except the canyon picture, which was possibly her favorite photo to date.  He looked so alive and like he was having so much fun.  It was on her desk at work, it made her smile whenever she looked at it.  More pictures would most assuredly be nice.  “I’d love to see some,” Akiva grinned as she pulled the last few latkes from the pan, turning off the burner and setting the oil to the side.  “He must have been adorable,” she giggled slightly, imagining that mop of hair atop the head of a much younger version of himself.  It gave her a few butterflies just thinking about – so cute. 

"Oh, doomed, my dear," Hestia repeated, "that's quite dramatic. You are, Akiva, quite lovely. Far from a doomed fate." She leaned in, her forehead close to Kiva's as she leaned in conspiratorially. "And you know -- my Dree, everyone said was quiet nerdish!" She grinned. "But I always knew better. And you do, too." She smiled in satisfaction. Of course she would not be surprised with skydiving. She knew Dreogan. But not as well as Hestia did. Perhaps that would change. "Nerdish, yes, but I knew he'd turn out alright. I've got something for you: an early Hannukah present." She pulled away, chin held high and with purpose as she strode from the kitchen to the front room.

There was some shuffling around for a few moments until Hestia returned with a leathern volume. "Children's pictures." She opened the first page and frowned. "Well, nearly. I must have grabbed the wrong one. Do you want to see?"

There was no need to ask the question. Akiva was already attentively looking on. She had never found such an attentive audience as Akiva for these. Glowing with a mother's pride, she flipped through until one caught her eye. "Nerdish; but that's really the glasses." She read the title of the book. "Well, and the. . . History of Time. Summer in Galilee. He must have been about twelve? Ah, here's one the next year. Without glasses. See?. Oh, he looks so much like my husband." She gave a sigh and a shake of the head. "He's speaking to the Headmaster; it was the time he came to stay at our kibbutz. I think. You know, he and my husband were close friends." She flipped a couple of pages. If Akiva had any mind to make a comment, Hestia was far too engrossed to notice.

"And his last year of school. This was the school portrait. I made him cut his hair; it had gotten so unruly. I always regretted it." She looked up abruptly at Akiva. "Oh, but don't tell him as much! That'll be our little secret, mm?" she asked, waiting for a nod -- the solemn sisterly pact before turning the page. "The haircut has always been something of a sore spot. Well, obviously he didn't much appreciate the cut either. By the next year, he'd grown it out. Just look!" She sighed in dismay, the maternal disappointment, frustration, and affection still apparent. "He always had a mind of his own, however polite he seems. Why, but no one believed it. By the time he was done traveling and had returned to Kibbutz Erez, he looked quite a different man. There is a picture of it somewhere, with his friend Simeon. Looks a bit like that boy, Radley. Archer? Well, at any rate, Simeon was one of his friends at Erez. They couldn't have been older than nineteen in this photo. And that hair!" With a light cackle, she added, "I hate to tell you; it got longer. It got to the point where he needed a headband to keep it from out of his eyes! But look at this photo," she said, returning to it. "You can see how people mix my boys up."

There was the sound of movement from Hestia's room and she looked up quickly, tucking the book a bit closer to her as though to hide it from view. "You know," she added sotto voce, "I can have copies made of any of these!"

Akiva blushed softly as Hestia dismissed her claim that she had been doomed.  She had always felt that way.  When she was younger, she had wildly untamable hair, a penchant for math and science, and was a muggleborn.  It made things very hard on her during her time in Hogwarts, particularly the younger years before she had carved her niche and found friends that she actually got along with.  But she smiled anyway, and nodded, giggling softly as she indicated that people thought Dree could tend toward nerdiness.

“I never saw nerdy behavior as a problem,” she wrinkled her nose with affection, thinking it was more endearing than anything.  It was sweet, truly, and she nodded eagerly that she also knew it was not the entirely nerdy person some might have made him out to be.  “He can be quite surprising when he wants to,” Akiva grinned, thinking of how many times he did things that she never would have expected.  She loved the little surprises, and often she tried to reciprocate, but she was nowhere nearly as good at being spontaneous and exciting. 

It appeared that Dree got some of his spontaneity and trickery from his mother though, and Akiva’s eyebrows shot up – early present?  Oh, she was intrigued!  And she followed Hestia away from the kitchen and into the living room, satisfied that everything seemed to be coming together and there was nothing frying anymore.  It was a welcome break, and she followed closely behind.

As soon as the book came out, Akiva recognized the type.  Her heart jumped and a silly grin crossed her face.  Pictures!  She nodded eagerly at the question, figuring it did not really matter what she said anyway, and took a seat next to Hestia, looking over her shoulder at the pictures arranged perfectly in the book.  She always marveled at the pictures people kept, the things they said about them, and the first Hestia pointed out could not have made Akiva happier.  She giggled softly, looking at his young face with those glasses, clutching that particular book.  Her smile was wide, affectionate, and she tried to get a better look, noticing the unruly black hair atop his head and the nose that had not changed at all.  Her heat fluttered a little, thinking about how adorable he was.  His lips looked smaller now, but he was so… adorable.  “My dad made read that summer of my fifth year…” she trailed off quietly, looking back over at the pictures again.

He had a charm about him, maybe not a traditionally handsome appearance, but he was charming.  She would have liked him when she was younger, she was sure of it.  Just by seeing his big brown eyes in the pictures and something very innocent about him, she could see it in some of his expressions now, but he was so young here!  He looked so different with short hair though, and she refrained from commenting, nodding with Hestia, as it was always the safest option to agree and the picture with the work boots – well, the hair didn’t surprise her, but the footwear certainly did.  “Was he going on safari?” she giggled softly, noticing the intense amount of khacki.  He was something else…

And then there was the picture where she could have sworn, he ripped the bottom half of Adon’s face and put it on his own.  He looked so carefree, so… funny, with a friend who did look oddly like Auror Radley.  He looked like he was trying to be so cool, so suave.  She laughed, her eyes lingering affectionately on his handsome face.  “It’s uncanny,” Akiva commented absently, looking at his face, examining the angle of his jaw, the curls that hung low on his head, what hair!  She reached up to touch her own, it was much softer now, after years of practicing anti-frizz and taming charms, goodness help their future children (as Akiva was deadest there would be at least a few in their lives). 

She looked up as she heard a sound though, turning to Hestia quickly, her mouth hanging slack just a little.  “You would?” she started to smile, “Oh, thank you!” Akiva clasped her hands in front of her chest, letting out an excited puff of air, “I would love a copy of the first…” she couldn’t outright say it was her favorite… but it was… “and his school portrait,” she’d put his and her own next to one another, “oh… maybe all of them,” she finally reasoned.  It couldn’t hurt to have some pictures of him around the house, after all.   

“I would really appreciate it,” she replied sincerely, laying her palms on her crossed knees.  “Starting an album for the house might be nice,” she started, “and your help would be… essential.”  She didn’t want to downplay Hestia, after all, she wouldn’t appreciate that, and it wouldn’t serve to make for a good relationship, would it?  No.  So her help would be vital.  “It’d be nice to have for the future…” to show their children, of course, where the two of them came from, their families and their lives before, plus the addition of wedding photos and their adventures together.  It was going to be their story; she really wanted to make that project. 

Adon had not gotten a response to the knock. He knocked again before giving a disgruntled sound and rolling his eyes to Jacoba before tugging up on the handle, laying a palm on the door, and pushing. The door yielded and Adon grinned, holding the door open for Jacoba to enter as well.

Once she was inside and the winter's bite was separated by the door once more, Adon called out a "hullo!" as he stood behind Jacoba to take her coat. She didn't need the help, of course, and Adon wasn't consistent with his offers. But he knew his mother would give him a basilisk's stare if he did not at least attempt at gallantry.

His mother, on the other hand, seemed scarcely to notice. No, both Akiva and Hestia's heads shot up as they looked over a book of some sort, guilty of some great conspiracy. Adon frowned, squinting his eyes to see better. The album.

"Hey!" he protested in an authoritative, definitive tone. "None of that. We have worked our way out of puberty just like the rest of you. It is hardly fair to resurrect it for your amusement." He cast a concerned glance at Jacoba. Surely she would not be so cruel, so womanish to participate in such indirect torture. "You've all met Joh., I guess? If not, here she is," he stated comfortably with a shrug, smiling a bit, because he knew his mother would --

"Adon!" Hestia scolded as she crossed the living room quickly. "Is that any way to make an introduction!"

Bingo. Akiva was now alone with the album -- a fate he could endure. Dreogan had many more embarrassing shots , naturally (though Adon's were, on the whole, more mortifying content-wise).  She'd be engrossed with his, however.

"I'm Hestia Eleor, dear," his mother was crooning, already ready to fuss over the new female of the clan. "And I've heard a good deal about you, both from Dreogan and Adon. I hope they've been treating you right."

This wasn't much better than the album. "Something burning, ma?" he asked, glancing back at the kitchen. Hestia looked up anxiously, hesitating a moment before going to inspect, in which time, Adon winked at Jacoba. He hoped he was giving a lead to follow.

In the time it took for Adon to open the door and see her inside, Jacoba was sure her heart's rhythm had reached a speed and intensity that would make it visible against her chest.  Probably not as drastically as those cartoons when coyote's valentine-shaped heart protruded two feet from his chest - he clearly never had ribs.  But, there was bound to be some sort of lump. 

Family affairs just weren't activities Jacoba was all that comfortable with.  What interactions she had had with friends' parents was usually restricted to overhearing her friends' parents warn them about her bad influence or whatever short, terse conversation fate had forced upon her by virtue of getting caught in the same room with these said parents for too long.  Usually, being tolerated was the best Jacoba hoped for around members of the middle-aged generations.  She knew (or perhaps was blindly hoping) this would be different. 

Jacoba glanced curiously over her shoulder as Adon took her coat.  "I'll try not to let this spoiling go to my head," she said, quietly, with a slight smirk before glancing back towards the two women huddled over the book.  She grinned and chuckled at the concerned look he threw her but, subtly, shook her head.  She, of course, couldn't be held accountable if the book was placed into her hand by the family's matriarch.  Refusing to partake when the woman was insisting would be rude.  However, she didn't feel a need to weasel her way into peering at the book on her own volition.  They'd only been dating for ... well ... five or so minutes, after all.

"Allo," Jacoba offered with a shy grin to accompany Adon's introduction.  Oblivious to Adon's hidden ploy to pull his mother away from the photo album, Jacoba quickly shook her head.  "It's alright, really," she offered, hoping to smooth over some of the woman's admonishments. 

Jacoba had been expecting the woman to be curious.  Especially given the relatively platonic nature of Jacoba's involvement with the family when the invitation had been extended.  She hadn't been expecting the level of enthusiasm or ... she wasn't sure what it was.  Depth?  ... of the greeting.  "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," she offered, extending her hand and hoping it didn't feel quite as clammy as her nerves might have warranted. 

"Oh, you have?  Hopefully, nothing too incriminating."  Jacoba cast Adon a curious glance but winced, belatedly, at her own choice of words.  She probably could have chosen better.  She blushed slightly as she considered the next not-quite-a-question.  "They've been treating me just fine, really.  They've both been more gratious than most."  That was neither a lie nor even an exaggeration. 

Hestia moved off towards the kitchen to check something and Jacoba nodded at Adon before turning towards Akiva.  She hadn't really seen the woman since ... well ... that first unfortunate meeting at Dreogan's flat.  She was fully aware she hadn't imparted the best first impression though how much of that Akiva remembered given everything else that had happened, Jacoba didn't know.  She figured she would find out soon enough.  "How are you?"

As soon as Hestia was aware,  the intent focus on the pictures seemed far less important.  Adon and… Jacoba… that was her name, right?  Yes, Adon and Jacoba were here and clearly it meant that the real celebration was going to be getting underway.  Adon did not greet with a hello at first, however, he looked immediately at the leather bound album and said something about puberty and how they were resurrecting it for their amusement.  Akiva grinned, from the looks of it, at least in her mind, Adon had very little to be embarrassed of.  He struck her as the cool kid, even in awkward third year he was probably cool. 

And then he introduced Joh?  Oh! She had a nickname.  Akiva had only met the young woman once under some… unfavorable circumstances, but Akiva could not hold it against the girl. She hadn’t done anything that day, after all.  Akiva’s mind had really been elsewhere anyway. She seemed nice enough, Dree was a mentor of sorts to her brother and Adon seemed to at least tolerate Jacoba, though, Akiva could see just a tad bit more than toleration.   Akiva was left alone with the book, it resting in her lap now as Hestia got up to greet her younger son and Jacoba who had been staying with him.

Hestia was up from the couch almost immediately and Akiva was left alone with the album in her lap.  She glanced down at the pages, brown eyes scanning each picture briefly, lingering only slightly longer on the picture of Dree clutching the A Brief History of Time.  She loved that picture.  That affectionate smile drifted back to her face for a moment before she closed the book with a heavy heart, hoping that Hestia’s distraction with the arrival of her other son and his house guest did not erase the memory of her promise to make those pictures for her.   She would be devastated if she didn’t have them. 

Finally standing a few moments later, Akiva did not want to seem rude and offered a smile to Adon, “Happy Hanukkah, Adon,” she greeted warmly, “Happy Hanukkah, Jacoba,” she added, wanting to make sure that she gave both of them the proper greeting – there was no reason to be rude.  And then Adon mentioned something smelled like it was burning, Akiva turned her head as well and sniffed the air – she had taken the latkes out of the pan, they couldn’t be burning! 

Glancing back at Adon, she caught the tail end of a wink and rolled her eyes.  “Awful,” she tsk’d with a shake of her head, though the hints of a smile were tugging at the corners of her mouth.  “She’ll be back in a few seconds,” Akiva added before turning her attention to Jacoba who had asked how she was.

“Very well, thank you,” she smiled widely, “happy for the holiday.  Have you ever been to a Hanukkah dinner?”  She doubted it, but it was polite to ask and it would gauge what she was going to understand and what she wouldn’t from the evening, providing Adon hadn’t explained everything to her already.  She was sure Dree would love to explain everything – she thought he might act like her father, explaining everything for the thousandth time, just in case you forgot why you were doing it, and it was endearing.

Of course, then she realized Dree was still in the other room.  Frowning slightly she glanced over her shoulder.  “One second,” Akiva smiled, “I’m going to get your brother,” she directed toward Adon, smiling at them quickly before turning to go toward the hallway Dree had disappeared into.  “Dreogan,” she called out, just slightly louder than her typical speaking voice, “Adon and Jacoba are here.  Time to put down the mobile and socialize with the people here!”

"Well," Hestia said, flushing with a bit of pride, but off-put by the praise, evidently unanticipated of her sons. "They're good boys," she concluded. "We're so happy you could join us, Jacoba. It must be hard to be so far away from your family during the holidays."

Adon cringed slightly at this; Jacoba had always been far from her family. Best to keep things casual. Distracted. "I'm hungry, ma!"

Hestia turned a scathing look to Adon before looking back, long-sufferingly to Jacoba. "Dear, I worry about the company you have had in the past if this is better than most." She waved Adon forward. "You. Kitchen. Now."

With the look of a martyr going to the gallows, Adon glanced back at Jacoba as she moved over to speak to Akiva.

Once both of them were settled into the nook of the kitchen, hovering near the stove, Adon felt his mother's talons dig in to him, eyes hawk-like and penetrating. "You didn't tell me how lovely she was!" Hestia hissed in a motherly accusation as she smacked her youngest, tallest son on the arm.  She was looking at him expectantly.

"Oh. Yeh. She's lovely," Adon said, leaning against the counter. There was really no way out of this. He'd just be happy of Hestia didn't talk about other women she intended to set him up with. Or would that be better? Hestia scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Really," he insisted. A momentary panic settled in; if Hestia didn't approve of Jacoba, or how he viewed Jacoba, things could get difficult. While he couldn't feasibly imagine the sort of person who would disprove of Jacoba's agreeable nature, he began, "We spend a lot of time just talking. She's good to talk to."

"And what's the hold-up?"

"Oh, none at all. We eloped about four weeks ago. You know, wanted to keep it small, keep the crazies out. Really, it's much better that way." He glanced down at his nails, inspecting them as he spoke.

"Adon!" Hestia waved her wooden spoon menacingly at him. He actually jolted perceptibly as a droplet of hot oil flicked against the side of his neck. When he felt certain no further threats were present, he smirked becomingly.  Hestia's hasty elopement and subsequent disowning was, to Adon, a great family joke. The only person Adon really had any memory of in the Grimm family was his uncle, Alberic, which, considering how their last encounter had gone about seven years ago, and the time before that, four years prior . . . well, good riddance was not the beginning of it.

"Can't blame me, ma. It's a family trait."

"I hope you mean eloping."

"Oh, that, too," Adon replied airily, pushing himself away from his perch and moving over to where, apparently, Akiva was calling for Dree, bringing whatever conversation she might have been having with Jacoba to a pause, if not a halt. That tone of voice would never work on him. He suspected that Akiva, unlike the other woman in Dreogan's life, Tabitha, was incapable of insistent caterwauling.

"DREE!" He bellowed.

"Whaat!" came back a mirroring, complaintive yell.

Adon grinned, proud as his mother shook her head disapprovingly as she began to lay out plates and serve up some of the food onto platters.  She looked knowingly to both of the women who, routinely, put up with her son's behaviours.

"I saw that," Adon pointed an accusing finger to his mum.

"And we all heard you, dear," Hestia said mildly as she took a platter in hand. Adon quickly crossed over to take two food-laden plates in hand, one from the counter, the other from her hand.

"No," he scolded as she prepared to get another dish from the counter. He leaned in to give a brief peck on her cheek. "Thought you'd get away with doing it all, hmn?" he asked, moving over to the table and setting them down.

"Yes, they are?"  Jacoba cast a questioning and aid-seeking glance in Adon's direction.  As far as she could tell, Dreogan and Adon were 'good boys' - though she knew her perspective on the subject was quite likely a little skewed.  Hopefully, though, the woman's surprise wasn't an indication that it had been an incorrect response. 

"Oh-" Jacoba started, lifting her brows in another attempt to silently (and, likely, ineffectively) garner information from Adon before turning back towards Hestia.  Hestia had, apparently, heard a fair bit from them about her but, given the comment about being far from her family, there seemed to be obvious significant gaps in her knowledge.  So what, exactly, had been said?  What did or didn't she know?  "They're actually just over in Guildford."  In terms of distance, Jacoba was closer to her family this holiday season than she had been since she was 15.  But, before they could get too far into that topic, Adon urged his mother towards the kitchen.

Jacoba offered Hestia an awkward grin and a shrug as she nodded.  "Yeah - well - if you'd seen- some of the company I've kept."  Luckily, Adon had successfully ushered his mother out of the room before the last bit had manifested itself in an awkward whisper.  She turned back towards Akiva and offered an awkward shrug. 

"Yeah.  Happy things are somewhat back to normal," Jacoba agreed with a pleasant nod before sneaking a quick glance around the front room.  Was this normal?  Standing in the festive living room of the mother of her newly established auror boyfriend - a living room that was so heavily saturated with magic that she'd had to switch off her mobile for fear of it overheating by flashing random pixels.  By everything she'd known before, this was far from normal.  Despite all that, though, and despite how anxious she was about making a good first impression, it felt like it fit.  Fit enough to be called, yes, 'normal.'   

"I have been to a few.  I managed to procure myself invites on a few occasions back home in Germany.  Never here in England, though.  I haven't been here for a lot of winters, though.  Not since I was fourteen." 

Akiva moved away to call after Dreogan and Jacoba grinned slightly, trying simultaneously to strain an ear to overhear whether mother and son were discussing them in the kitchen and tune out the parts of the conversation that were spoken (or, therefore, scolded) loud enough to indicate they were probably in the midst of a private conversations.  Managing to listen and not listen at the same time was quite an endeavor to undertake. 

There were the distinctive sounds of tables being set and dishes being rattled and Jacoba made her way over to the table.  "What can I do?" she asked, looking from the two plates in Adon's hand back to the kitchen nook.  She grinned, slightly, the tenderness of the moment between mother and son not lost on her before she moved around the table to Adon.  "How can I be useful?" she repeated.  "Anything left to be brought out?"

Dreogan sighed as he heard the tones of voice carry from the kitchen. His mother was scolding. Either Adon was being himself, or Dree's prolonged conversation was the topic of conversation. "Jonas," he cut in; the investigator had been talking non-stop about his family plans for the holidays in an over-enthusiastic attempt to cover the all-too-memorable fact that Jonas had also mentioned, in passing, that this was the anniversary of a friend's death. "I'm sorry; my own family's festivity-ing in the front room and I'm being summoned." A bit of a pause. "You'll have to let me know how the holidays go for you. And. . ." another pause, "let me know if you need anything tonight, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure mate. Sorry to keep you." Jonas was reassuring from the other line. Dreogan shook his head, smiling a bit as he gave his final farewells (totaling in 2 minutes) and closing the flip phone with a delayed finality. He checked the screen the call duration. 16:32. For Trevelyan, that had been a short call. And, judging from content, it deserved to be much, much longer.

Still, affixing a smile, he opened the door of his mother's bedroom to rejoin the group. The light, for a moment, was jarring; Dreogan realised he must have been speaking in the dark. "m back," he announced a bit sheepishly, coming behind Akiva and wrapping his arms around her, chin resting on the top of her head as he took in the crowd. "Sorry." He had been aware that she'd come earlier to fetch him but as was typical of his engrossed conversation, his attention had been wholly Jonas' and he had not heard particularly the words. "Welcome, Jacoba!" he greeted brightly, seeing her. Adon'd said she'd been invited. He had not heard she had accepted. "So glad you could come!"

"Though you could get away with doing it all, hm?" Adon said smoothly as he kissed his mother.

"Dear, we're just about ready; let the men do the work! It's our day, today; and you're a guest," his mother was saying to Jacoba, who was moving way from both Adon and Jacoba to speak to Akiva and Dreogan. The pleased smile on her face, however, indicated that Jacoba had asked just the right question.

"What kept you?" Adon quipped. The rapid-fire transitions made Dreogan halted a moment, looking from person to person. On the table was an open book of oh, no. He glanced back at Akiva nervously.

"I can see I missed a fair bit. . . I was talking to Jonas." He directed the last statement pointedly at his little brother. "You should check up on him later." It was, Dreogan felt, Adon's responsibility as the man's partner, to see to these things, though Dreogan felt that he alone was perhaps aware of the strain the divorced, self-employed father was feeling at the moment.

"We looked at the photo album. Years 10-18."

Dreogan's smile wavered. "Oh! Oh, that's . . . totally unnecessary." He looked at Akiva, taking her hand and lowering his gaze, "And I trust you were nothing but charmed?"

"Guildford?!" Hestia exclaimed belatedly. "But that's only a stone's throw away!"

“Oh! Good,” Akiva smiled at Jacoba, glad to hear she wouldn’t be totally in the dark.  “My father’s side of the family is from Germany,” she added, just for small talk’s sake.  “I’ve never been, unfortunately, but it is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”  It was true, she had never gotten the chance to go to Germany, even on a family holiday, it was just something that always got pushed back.  Somehow, she always figured it was hard for her father, hard for him to think about, and she never pressed, though hoped that now she would be able to, with Dreogan.

It would be something to share, something important.  “England is pleasant though,” Akiva said, completely ignorant of why Jacoba had not been in England for any holidays, also not having the information to put it together that it might have been something negative, rather than a family decision.  She never assumed bad things about anyone’s family, she did not have reason to believe anything negative, particularly at the holidays.
 
But, with that in mind, she also wanted her family here right now, and that meant getting Dree out of the room and with the rest of the festivities.  He would be missing out and she knew he didn’t want to do that, it was something they had been so looking forward too.  Smiling at Jacoba once more before moving toward the hallway. 

He had gotten the message, she knew it, and did not bother to wait for him – it would be rude to leave for too long, after all, and she felt somewhat responsible in helping to make things go smoothly.  Even if Hestia was hosting, Akiva could not let the woman do absolutely everything. It seemed most everything was done though and she put her hands on her hips, “Everything looks and smells wonderful,” she added, looking to Hestia with a pleased smile.

When Dree finally joined, only moments later, Akiva giggled softly as he enveloped her in a from behind hug – though frowned softly at the chin on her head, he was flattening her hair!  Resting her hands on top of his, she leaned back into him, savoring the moment of closeness that was so reminiscent of something you’d see in a movie or something. 

He mentioned someone they had been working with, Jonas – Akiva had heard the name once or twice – to Adon and she sighed softly.  Intertwining her fingers with his, Akiva took a ginger step to the side to glance at his face, she wanted to see what his expression was. It wasn’t grave, which helped, and then he was informed about the book.

Akiva’s cheeks lit up a bit, and she was happy to have him holding her hand and looking so… anxious.  “Absolutely charmed,” Akiva assured him, leaning up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss.  “I want copies, you know,” she informed him with a cheeky smile, taking the hand that she was holding and wrapped it around her waist.  “Everything alright?” she asked in a low voice as Hestia was distracted with Jacoba.  Just checking in for the rest of the evening, she wanted to make sure he wasn’t too distracted throughout dinner and the rest of the night.