Hogwarts School - Elsewhere

It was late.

He'd had a glass of champagne. Golden.

Felt the tiredness in his body, somehow gentle and heavy all at once. Arriving in Porthcawl with a swish and a turn, the apparition brought him straight into a hurl of wind outside the entrance to the Prothero Castle. He stumbled, but was not unused to this, straightening himself, cloak dancing in the wind, and gazed up at the looming walls of home.

The doors creaked open and shut behind him, and it was quiet, but the lights were lit and his feet steady as he moved through the building, heading for their chambers, the sound of his footsteps tapping against the intricate tiles of a vast floor. On the walls of the corridor hung large tapestries, their vivid colours and minute details visible in the faint light.

He swung left and came to a door, moved past, inside, and she was still up, leaning over some table, doing something.

Without taking off the coat, he walked over and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling at her neck, relishing the warmth.

"I had dinner with Bellestorm," he said.

With political Britain in turmoil, and Tomas Bellestorm on as the new Minister, Eugene had been quick enough to reach a hand to an old alliance. He was conservative though, highly traditional, and Eugene and Florence did not fully agree on the political matters, on what was the better way going forward.

"Now I'm tired."

---

She was the little ray of sunshine. The light in their stormy night. Three years old and dressed like a queen, by courtesy of Florence Prothero.

The women of the Castle were scurrying around, reorganising. His mother, Moira, and his aunt Claudia forever present, were having some sort of discussion about the curtains, while Florence was busy setting the table. Cephas (age 5) was running around their feet, while Harmon (age 8) had settled by the large leather sofa with a picture book.

And little Pretoria was on his arm, leaning against his shoulder and his suit-clad chest as he reached an arm down to pick another Christmas ornament - a golden angel this time - giving it to her so she could put in on the tree.

"Maybe here?" he suggested, fingers curling around a branch of the evergreen, to assist in bending the branch her way, should this be needed.