Christmas had always been one of Octaviusâs favorite times of the year. When he had joined Hogwarts, he had refused to get back on the train to make the journey home for the holidays and his father had not cared enough to fetch his son personally. The Slytherin common room had been decorated with a large amount of twinkling lights and a stunning Christmas tree, the Great Hall had turned into an inside winter wonderland and the food had always been amazing, with the house elves outdoing their usual selves. He had never received a large amount of presents, but he had never minded and he had enjoyed the quietness of the castle over the holidays in comparison to the usual heavy bustle of noisy students. As an adult, his love of Christmas had only grown, as he had traveled and experienced the season among different cultures and people.
Standing in Hogsmeade, boots slipping slightly against the snow on the ground, flakes drifting softly from the sky and landing on his jacket and in his hair, he felt like a young boy again, even though his Hogwarts days were long behind him. As his fiancee turned, he was as always in awe of how beautiful she looked, and amused by her attire, noting the Hufflepuff scarf and the cloak, giving her the look of a Hogwarts student, made all the more convincing by her height and childish beam of giddiness. He was thrown slightly by her calling him âdarlingâ, though hoped tentatively that he could assume the relationship they had been working to repair was slowly but surely heading in the right direction and wondered if he should find some term of endearment to refer to her by. His father had only ever called his mother âdearâ when he had been concealing anger.
âYou look to be in good moodâ he smiled, regarding her with amusement still. As she took his hand, and gripped his arm tightly, he wondered whether she thought he would suddenly disappear on her and if she anchored him, he would be unable to do so, or if she was simply cold and stealing from his body heat. He hoped it was the latter as he stepped closer to her, turning his body slightly to shield her for the wind that had begun to blow through the lane towards them. âI was trying my best not to say it, though I am glad that you are able to see through my words to the implications withinâ he murmured, his lips still twitching as she swore to curse every generation of Burkeâs to come. He found that even as she said it, the thought of spawning the next generation did not worry or frighten him, he had accepted that it would happen and he knew that Ava would make a great mother. Whether he would make a great father remained to be seen, given the role model he had had.
As she kissed his cheek, he chuckled. âWell, your height is useful for something, it allows me to more easily do thisâ he said, before pressing a kiss to her forehead, not daring to move anywhere near her lips still. He had made good on his promise so far, and intended to keep it. âIsnât Madam Puddifoots the place that has a lot of⌠pink?â he asked, delicately. He had never been there as a boy in Hogwarts and having been given his classmates horrific retellingâs of dates within the establishment, had never had the urge. âWould I know this boy, now?â he asked, attempting to sound as though the question were vague and he was uninterested by the answer, but he hadnât quite managed it. If he knew the boy who had acted so cruelly towards his Ava, he would seek him out and hex him for the cheek. Lacing their fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, he sighed in resignation. âI suppose a hot drink would be welcome. Lead the way, loveâ.
There was a set of pixies flying around in her belly as Octavius and Ava shared personal space. It comforted her to have him close -something she wouldnât admit had something to do with the events of the McKinnon party- and told her that he was enjoying her presence. She was enjoying his too, and when his lips pressed against her skin, those pixies were alight within her and a gentle pink flushed her wind kissed cheeks and even moreso when he called her âloveâ.
As they walked towards the little tea shop, the lights of the tree and the decorations lighting the way, Ava shrugged at his question. âI know he was pureblooded... not one the of the Sacred, so no one we really socialize with. I think heâs an Auror now.â She hadnât really kept up with most of her fellows outside of her close friends after Hogwarts, as they were just from too different of worlds, and now with everything happening even those friends she kept close were starting to fall away. âI do hope not to hear heâs been jinxed by something...â Ava said pointedly as they walked, snow crushed under their feet. She wasnât an idiot, really, and though the disconcerting rumors were no longer worrying her, she did know there had to be a kernel of truth in them. She didnât want Octavius to do something unwise.
Madam Pudifootâs was just as hideously pink as she remembered, though luckily it was countered by the holiday decorations that were now put up. Though not horrible, it was still... a lot of decor. Looking about, she managed to find the least decorated corner of the shop for them, a booth sort of seating that forced them to sit next to each other. âLook, itâs only semi-covered in pink and glitter.â There was a giggle in her throat as she sat down and un-looped the scarf from around her neck and took her cloak off. âOn Valentineâs Day, they have cherubs flying around throwing confetti at the customers. I used to find bits of it in my luggage at the end of the year, so many of my dorm-mates went to dates here. Though they all did gush to me that the tea is to die for.â
