Holiday Moments Since he had gotten home, Lionel had known the question was coming and had been dreading it. He had not, however, expected Uncle Geoff to be the one to ask it. Somehow, baseless though it was, he felt betrayed by that, as though he had expected Uncle Geoff, if not one other member of the family, to be on his side somehow.
“So,” his uncle asked as they sat around the kitchen table in their mutual childhood home with Grandmother and Granddad and Amelia. “What are your plans for after you leave school?”
* * * * * * * *
School was good, but in the end, there was no place like home.
John, overwhelmed by the Christmas morning bustle, sat on the back garden steps, looking out over the snow and shivering even in a thick sweater and his fuzzy slippers. He smiled gratefully when Julian came out with two mugs of tea.
“Bless you,” he muttered.
“I thought you could do with warming up,” she said, clutching her own mug. She was also in a sweater and layers of flannel pyjamas, she wore no make-up, and for a moment, it was like the past few years never happened.
* * * * * * * *
“That never happened,” said Paul firmly.
“It did, though,” protested Joe.
“Did not.”
“It did,” insisted Joe.
His brother looked at him incredulously. “Really?” he asked. Joe nodded, barely able to keep from grinning to an unseemly degree. “Really. You really – “ he shook his head, apparently amazed that it would occur to Joe to deliberately leak John false information about what the Teppenpaw Quidditch team did during its practices.
“Joe,” said Paul finally, “I don’t think I have ever been this proud of you before in my life.”
“Thank you, Paul,” said Joe gravely, just before they both laughed.
* * * * * * * *
Amelia and her mother both laughed as Amelia finished the story of her first Charms lesson and how she had somehow turned her own hair a vivid shade of pink while trying to do her homework. “I guess there are some good things about not having magic,” said Lavinia, reaching out to touch Amelia’s golden-brown hair.
Amelia smiled shyly at the parent she felt she only half-knew. “I’m glad you came to see us this year, Mama,” she said, and didn’t notice, looking at her presents, the pained look that momentarily crossed a face which looked very like her brother’s.
* * * * * * * *
Brothers and sisters in the Mordue family often, it seemed, looked alike. Simon thought he and Sylvia did, anyway, and his two cousins did too. He did not think the same thing applied to his father and his father’s brother. There was a resemblance, but not as much.
“Oh – Simon,” said his father. “I promised Simon we would fly around the borders of the property today.”
His uncle bowed slightly. “We were finished anyway,” he said.
Simon wondered what they had been talking about for a moment, but no more. He was too busy trying not to overflow with happiness because his father had clearly been prepared to put a promise to him before a conversation with Uncle.