The Manor

If one was to pinpoint exactly when things had changed between James and Moire, it would be to the night of the wedding. They had stepped out for a bit, and when they had come back, the rest of the night had consisted in glances, smiles, and more than one dance. They seemed to always find a way back to each other and any excuse for physical contact was welcome.

To Moire, had she been told a few months ago that she'd crave James Potter's touch, she would have laughed and hexed the poor bastard who would have dared to suggest such a thing. But now, as she sat alone in the kitchen, dressed in a thick jumper and a pair of her mother's old jeans that she had found and taken a liking to, sipping a cup of tea at the table, a smile on her face when she remembered sitting on a bench, the scent of pine and citrus so close to her it was dizzying in the best possible way. An arm circled her shoulder and she leaned into it.

"Good morning," James whispered in her ears, sending a wave of shivers through her.

"Hi," she cheerfully replied as he sat next to her.

"Looks like we both slept in today," the Gryffindor answered, buttering a piece of toast.

It was a little later than either of them usually woke up, but given that the party had gone on until about three in the morning the night before, until Hermione Granger-Weasley herself had made a portkey to their honeymoon destination, officially wrapping up the celebrations, Moire had woken up with a slight headache from the alcohol and the lack of sleep about two hours later than she tended to, though those never posed a problem usually and she always ended up waking up at the same time anyways. But she had shrugged, the extra sleep welcome given the circumstances. She had realized that James had done the same thing as her when he wasn't downstairs. Sure, he could have had his breakfast alone but given everything, she had a feeling he would have been waiting for her had it been the case.

"No hangover?" She asked, handing him the kettle.

"I drank water towards the end of the night. You?"

"Please, look who you're talking to," Moire scoffed.

He playfully bumped her with his shoulder, and she stuck a piece of scone in his mouth as retaliation.

"Aaarrgh, get a room!" They heard.

Albus, his hair even messier than it usually was, was rubbing his temples, glaring at the two of them.

"Go back to bed, Al, you look terrible," his brother replied.

"I can't, you two are too fucking loud."

"Don't listen to him," Scorpius said as he walked into the kitchen. "The room just spins too much if he closes his eyes."

Moire raised an eyebrow at them and it seemed from what she could see in her peripheral vision that James had the same expression as her.

"I know for a fact that the glasses were enchanted to not serve anyone underage," she said, using her Captain voice.

"We took a few bottles of Firewhiskey from the kitchen," Scorpius, who was a little more scared of the voice than the other shithead was, admitted. "Al ended up drinking a lot more than us, and now he needs some tea."

"Milk?" Moire simply asked, and she grinned, satisfied, as Albus' face turned green at the mention of it.

"That was a dick move," James commented. Yet, he had a small smile on his face that he tried to conceal, which told her he was actually impressed instead.

"Good morning," Rose greeted cheerfully, walking in. "You look awful, Al."

"Gee, thanks!"

Moire chuckled as, little by little, a few more members of the Weasley-Potter family walked in, most of them commenting on Al's appearance. Thankfully, he started feeling better after eating some dry toast with a cup of warm tea, right before his parents walked in.

"Good morning, guys!" Molly greeted, coming back from the garden with an empty bucket of chicken feed.

A chorus of more or less coherent greetings answered her.

"You're all up early," the matriarch said, an eyebrow raised. "The party ended quite late."

"Some of us are early risers," James answered, looking at Moire as he said so. She answered with a discreet wink.

As she continued munching on her toast, the kitchen livening up at the sound of the few people who were already up, Moire's eye caught on something peeking out of Rose's jumper, and her eyes widened. No one seemed to have realized anything, as the bushy haired girl was talking to Fred, her empty cup of tea on the counter, so she had decided not to attract any attention to either of them, but Ron walked in not too long after. If he noticed, things wouldn't be too pleasant in the next five minutes. She finished her scone in a record time and stood up.

"By the way, Rose, wood ye like tae come upstairs really quick, I think I foond yer earrin' last night," she said, cursing herself as her accent came out slightly. Rose's eyebrows furrowed.

"I didn't lo—"

Moire's expression must've told her everything she needed to know. Thankfully, no one else had noticed, except for James, who arched an eyebrow as he looked at her.

"Oh. Right. My earring."

The younger girl followed her to their room where Moire tiptoed in, as Lily was still sound asleep, and grabbed her makeup case before dragging her to the bathroom.

"Love bite," she explained as she closed the door behind them.

Rose's eyes widened in horror, her hands shooting up to her neck.

"Calm down, it's poking out from under your jumper. I'll put something on it, and it'll be gone by the end of the day."

Rose stretched out the collar of her jumper to expose the hickey a little more and Moire blinked at the atrocity.

"Okay, maybe more like tomorrow."

While whatever was visible above her collar was pretty manageable, it became darker as it reached her clavicle, a purple monstrosity that would have been a lot harder to miss had it been an inch higher. Moire opened her makeup case and took out a little vial full of a sheer blue liquid.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" Rose asked.

"My best kept secret. I have had to hide a lot of hickeys in the past couple of years, and this is one of the very first potions I have ever invented. I usually apply some on bruises and love bites before I hide them using makeup and they fade in less than a day. Yours is… very dark. So, it might take until tonight or tomorrow. But you won't see it past tomorrow morning, I promise."

She dabbed some of it on Rose's pale skin before grabbing some concealer and powder. Thankfully, both were about the same complexion and the result was almost unnoticeable. The worst of it could be hidden under her clothes.

"So. How long you and Malfoy been sleeping together?" She asked with a smirk after she sealed the makeup with a spell.

Rose's skin flared up, her eyebrows almost blending in.

"We – I – it's – how did you know?" She finished, dejected.

"Please, you two were a matter of time. Now spill."

"About two or three months. We haven't actually… slept together, yet," the Gryffindor admitted. "Just a lot of snogging. And… and then some," she added, her cheeks reddening even more, if it was possible. "We're usually careful about that kind of stuff, but we drank, and weddings always put everyone in a romantic mood. Please, don't tell Albus."

"Wait. Albus doesn't know?"

"No… he was suspicious at first, so him and Scorpius argued about it and kind of… fell out of sync for a while."

When were the two idiots ever out of sync? The proverbial lightbulb went off as Moire gave it half a second of thought.

"Out of sy– you're telling me that's what had them so distracted at that one practice that ended up with me in the Hospital wing and half the school thinking I was dating your cousin?"

"I'm so, so sorry, Moire!" Rose exclaimed, hiding her face in her hands.

Moire sighed as the younger girl kept muttering her apologies.

"It's no big deal, Rosie."

She wouldn't hear it.

"Okay, I kind of put you in the spot there, so it's only fair you have some dirt on me. James found me in the neutral hallway of the Prefects' bathroom."

Rose blinked a few times, her mouth gaping like a fish. Moire waited for her to get he still wasn't saying anything.

"He had to help me get my shirt on because I couldn't with my shoulder. And you're the only one who knows that, because after all the rumors, people would think we shagged in that bathroom or something. Plus, I don't want to have to explain that he saw me in a bra."

"Your secret is safe with me," the other girl finally replied, having recovered her spirits.

"So is yours. Don't worry, I won't say a word to anyone about it."

They smiled to each other before heading back down.

"Took you a long time to get an earring," James commented, raising an eyebrow.

Moire bit back a curse. She was going to kill him.

"I thought I left it in my purse, but turns out I put it somewhere else, and Lily is still sleeping, so we had to be extra careful looking for it."

While everyone just nodded or shrugged, James seemed like he did not quite buy her story. As he opened his mouth again, she cut him off in his tracks.

"The weather bubble is still on for a bit, fancy a flight?"

His face lit up in a way that made her stomach tighten, and James got up, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her up the stairs to go get their brooms under the laughs of his family members. She couldn't help laughing herself.

"James, stop!" She chuckled. "Your legs are too long!"

He slowed down a little bit, releasing her wrist and grabbing her hand in his instead, and all she could think of was dancing with him at the wedding. His hands had been mostly soft, although there were a few calluses from holding a broom and a Quaffle, and they radiated heat, just like the rest of him had when he had held her close on the bench outside the Burrow.

They spent the next two hours flying around the garden, and when the weather charm wore off, heavy snowflakes started falling on them. They returned inside the house, soaking wet and freezing, but smiling so wide their faces looked like they would split in two. The two of them split up as they headed to separate bathrooms in the house to shower.

As Moire hurried to rinse the soap off her body, she took a second to consider what her relationship with James Potter had become. Whatever that was, she just decided to go along with it and to be fair, it was nice to not have to argue every time their paths crossed. As much fun as it was a few years ago, their arguments were getting kind of tiring to her and it was a nice change of pace to be friends, or whatever they were at the moment…

She finished up her shower and wrapped herself in her towel before heading to the room to get changed. Putting on some jeans and one of her thickest jumpers, she did her best to dry her hair with her towel. She sat on her bed, her vial of bergamot perfume in her hand, before she spritzed herself with a little bit more of it and headed out. The door next to hers was open, but she still knocked on it out of courtesy and from where he was laying in his bed, James looked up from his notepad. As his eyes fell on her, his face lit up, bringing a smile to hers, and she walked in. The Gryffindor moved a bit to leave her some space to sit and she did just that.

"What are you up to?" She asked him as he closed the notepad.

"Quidditch plays. We're playing Hufflepuff in March, so I'm brainstorming."

"Let me see?"

He pretended to hold his notepad against his chest, an amused glint in his eyes.

"And have you steal them? Not a chance, McLeoch!"

"Please, Potter, we played Hufflepuff weeks ago and crushed them," she replied, mockingly rolling her eyes. "Besides, it's not like you can use the same tactics against Slytherin. You'd be a terrible captain if you didn't tailor your plays to each team."

James laughed and handed her the notepad and she flipped through before stopping on a play.

"Okay, see this? When we played Hufflepuff, Macmillan tended to head one way to confuse the other team but then he throws the Quaffle to the other side. He always had a chaser waiting for him there, and they were usually wide open because everyone followed him. If you use this play, you can have the beater aim towards the one lone chaser opposite of the field right before Macmillan passes the ball, and while he tries to avoid the Bludger, have one of your chasers intercept the ball."

When Moire looked back up, James had a look of admiration in her eyes.

"What?"

"You're a genius. And you're ruthless."

"Took you long enough to notice," she smirked.

"You guys are playing Ravenclaw in February, right? Do you have your play book on you?"

"Yeah, I've been trying to work on plays so we can start training right after the holidays end."

"Go grab it, we played Ravenclaw already, I can help."

She ran out of his room and into hers and as she was grabbing her play book and a pen, she wondered how she had gone from despising James Potter to working with him on how to defeat their Quidditch opponents.

They worked until Rose came to fetch them for lunch, and again after that, well into the evening.

oOo

The next couple of days were spent in good holiday cheer. By then, everyone had realized that the mistletoe was enchanted to pop up in random places. It had resulted in sweet moments, like Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanging a kiss under the expressions of mock disgust displayed by their children, and quite hilarious ones like George running after Percy and finally plopping a wet kiss on his cheek.

Moire, and James for a matter of fact, had been extra careful, especially since they were quite often in the same vicinity and the mistletoe seemed to have taken a liking to them. Moire had lost count of how many times she had swerved away from James as he accidentally walked under the stupid little bundle of leaves, or the times he had grabbed her by the arm and directed her another way as it appeared on the ceiling above them. It had become an extreme sport, especially since it became ruthless as Christmas approached and between plays, flying together, and just spending time together, it was becoming harder to avoid it. Scorpius and Albus seemed to have a blast with it, however, watching intently as the two Quidditch captains tried to deal with the bothersome situation.

"… and that's how I almost got my arm bitten off by a Peruvian Vipertooth!" Charlie recounted on Christmas eve as they all sat in the crowded living room.

The fire blazing in the chimney reflected on the red and golden globes that decorated the tree and little candles floated around it. Moire was smiling at Charlie's antics, as he exaggeratedly recounted some of his adventures at the Dragon Sanctuary. James, Ginny, and George walked back into the room, carrying trays of hot chocolate mugs and she tried not to crumple her nose as the smell of cinnamon assaulted her nostrils. They passed around the room for people to grab a mug and she could hear James mutter "not this one" a couple of times. Finally, he set the tray down on the table and grabbed the last two mugs. He walked up to where she was sitting on the floor, braiding Lily's hair into a crown, and, sitting next to her, he handed her one of the mugs.

"No cinnamon, I made sure," he said, leaning a bit.

She smiled gratefully before taking a sip from it and setting it on the table behind her. The smell of pine trees and citrus once again enveloped her. With the amount of time she had been spending with James, one would have thought she would have been used to it, but it seemed like it made her just as dizzy as it had for the better part of the school year, but she had found herself welcoming the intoxicating smell in a way that she did not fully understand herself.

"How about you tell the story of how the healers had to call Mum to get you to finally stay in your bed?" Percy teased as his older brother took a break to sip his hot chocolate.

"That's not what happened!" The Dragonologist exclaimed in a hurry, spilling some chocolate on his shirt. "Mum sent a letter telling me to listen to the healers and I did!"

"Mum sent a howler threatening to grab a Portkey to Romania and hex your butt glued to your bed for a week if you tried to get up one more time," Ron corrected.

"Wait, Dad, tell us the story of when you, Uncle Harry, and Mum smuggled a dragon out of Hogwarts!" Hugo asked, straightening on the couch, an excited gleam in his eyes.

Moire chuckled as Harry, Ron, and Hermione retold the story of how Charlie and a few of his friends at the reserve had flown across Europe to pick up a dragon that Hagrid had been hiding in his hut. It then morphed into stories of their shenanigans at Hogwarts, like the time they had snuck into the forbidden section of the library as first years, or how they had brewed Polyjuice in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom as second years, a feat that had ended with Hermione being morphed into a cat hybrid for some time.

"I'm going to bed," Ron said in a high pitch voice, pretending to be his wife, "before either of you come up with a clever idea to get us killed. Or worse, expelled!"

Hermione gave him a playful slap on the arm, an amused glint in her eyes.

"I'll admit, I was a little much in first year."

"Just a smidge, love," he replied, a small smile on the corner of his lips.

"And with that, it's time for all of us to go to bed!" Mrs. Weasley declared.

"C'mon, Gran!" Fred protested.

"It's getting late, dear, don't forget tomorrow is a busy day," Angelina replied.

Moire smiled at that. While Dom, and Louis were setting off to France to join the Delacours, Bill and Fleur went off for their well deserved romantic getaway, and Percy, Audrey, and their daughters had a family vacation in Boston, the rest of the Potter-Weasley cousins would head to the McLeoch Manor at the end of the day, and McKenzie would also meet them there. Though she occasionally saw some of her cousins at Hogwarts, her schedule was jam packed between her classes, helping out Professor Khan, and Quidditch, so she did not get to see them too often. Besides, she missed those who had already finished their studies and could not wait to see them again.

Everyone stood up and a procession headed to the kitchen to drop off their mugs, and as she walked out, Moire looked at Lily's braids for any possible flaw, not noticing James who was going back into the kitchen and was looking behind him as he was talking to Fred. She walked directly into his chest, steadying herself by grabbing his arm.

"Sorry, I wasn't looking in front of me," she apologized as she straightened up.

"I wasn't either, you're all good."

"Oh, I am SO taking a picture of this and showing the team!" They heard Albus say.

They looked at the middle Potter child, who, along with most of the family was looking above both their heads. They followed their gazes straight up to the little mistletoe branch that had magically appeared on the ceiling above them and Moire blinked a few times, not immediately registering the event.

"Soooooo…," Ginny said, still looking up, as Harry next to her tried his best not to laugh at both of their expressions.

They had been under it before and Moire had just started being able to ignore the electricity between them without having to add a kiss to that as well. She tried to forget how she had wanted James to kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore many times over the few days she had been at the Burrow, and to be quite honest, the thought was sounding more and more tempting each time but it was becoming easier to try and force it out of her head. She had even been able to sleep without her potion the past two nights and this…

"Are you all just going to stand here and watch? That's kind of creepy, you know?" James said, sounding a little irritated. She didn't blame him.

The adults laughed and left in response, Ron and George having to be dragged out by their wives as they were laughing uncontrollably saying something about Hogsmeade and love potions that Moire couldn't understand. Most of the teenagers, though, did not seem like they were going anywhere. In fact, Lily's eyes shone brighter than the stars and Moire could already see the fairy tale scenarios playing in her mind where her big brother and her role model kissed and realized they were madly in love.

"Oh, we're not leaving," Albus assured, having acquired a camera from Merlin knew where.

"Merlin, Al," James groaned.

"The sooner you get this over with the faster we can all go to bed!"

"We don't have to do it," James said in a serious tone, searching her eyes with his for any sign that she was uncomfortable with the idea.

Her entire body was buzzing. She was still holding on to his arm, that she had used to keep her from falling a few moments ago, and if she just pulled down on it, pulled him towards her, she could quiet down the little voice in her mind that demanded James Potter's touch. However, she absolutely could not show how badly she needed him, not to him, and certainly not to their little audience. So, Moire did what she did best: she put a confident smirk on her face and spoke in her most defying voice.

"Scared of a little kiss, Potter?"

She had struck the most basic Gryffindor chord, the one button every Slytherin knew to push since the school had first been opened by the Founders. In a blink of an eye, he had pulled his wand, knocked the camera out of Albus' hands with a Disarming Charm, and then his lips were on hers and the whole world seemed to both explode and fall into place. The kiss lasted no more than two seconds, and her body physically ached for more. Moire tried to control her breathing as it felt like all the air had been knocked out of her body.

"There, was it so hard?" She asked, pretending her heart was not beating out of her chest.

He didn't answer, looking at her with an unreadable expression, brows furrowed, and she wondered if she was imagining the desire in his eyes or if it was really there.

Before she could decide, he took a step back, returning to his usual nonchalant countenance and, stuffing his hands in his pockets, he looked at his family.

"Happy?"

"No, you twat, you almost broke my camera!"

"I don't know how to break this to you, Albie, but you're a wizard. You can do such a thing as repair a broken camera."

Once back in the room, Moire grabbed the remaining potion in her trunk and drank everything that was left in the vial before she started to change into her pajamas. Lily was still brushing her teeth in the bathroom, so Rose closed the door and looked at her.

"Be honest with me. You don't have nightmares, do you?"

"What?" She asked, unable to focus on the curly haired girl in front of her as every single inch of her body was tingling, and an annoying heat started forming in her stomach.

"You didn't use to take this potion. Or at least, you didn't need it last summer. Or the past couple of days. Now you kiss James and suddenly you need the potion again?"

"Rose, you're too smart for your own good. You know that, right?"

"Come on, you can trust me. I won't tell anyone."

"Fine," Moire sighed deeply, falling onto her bed. "It started when I smelled James in Amortentia when Professor Khan showed you guys the potion at the beginning of the year. I didn't smell him last year, but for some reason, I do now. Maybe it's because I had a massive crush on that idiot second year until we were actually introduced, and I realized he was a total prat. Maybe it was spending time with him last summer and realizing we could actually get along. I don't know. But then, I just started having sex dreams about the bloke regularly, and quite honestly? I couldn't even look at him directly because all I could see where the dreams. So, I have been taking more than the recommended dose of this potion just so I could get some fucking sleep without dreaming of your cousin shagging me."

Rose's eyes were as wide as the ornaments on the Christmas tree downstairs.

"Lily will be back any second now so we should stop talking about this."

"For now, but we are definitely having this conversation again at a later date."

"Sure," was all she could mutter, the potion finally starting to take effect. "Just don't tell anyone what I told you."

oOo

Moire took a deep breath before she stepped down the last flight of stairs into the kitchen. She kept her face even as she noticed James sitting at the table and offered him a shoulder squeeze as she passed by him, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it up. James cleared his throat as she sat opposite of him, grabbed a scone, and spread some of Mrs. Weasley's persimmon jam, that she had become quite obsessed with, on top.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked hesitantly, and she stopped chewing, feeling momentarily bad for pushing his buttons.

She swallowed her bite and washed it down with some tea before nodding.

"I did. How about you?"

"Not too bad," he mumbled. "Listen, about yesterday…"

"It's all good, Potter, you're not the first bloke I've kissed."

"Moire," he sighed.

"Besides, I shouldn't have taunted you like that. Everyone knows Gryffindors don't respond well to it…"

How could she tell him that she had been desperate to feel his lips on hers after all the times something had almost happened between the two of them these past few days? It was better for her play dumb at this point.

"You get snarky when you're uncomfortable. That's your way to not let people see you're affected by something."

Moire froze in her spot. Did he have her a little more figured out than she thought he did?

"Instead of taking it as you daring me, I should've understood that you were not fully okay with it. I'm sorry."

"I didn't mind," she said in a small, almost squeaky voice, but he heard. They were the only two people in an otherwise deadly silent kitchen, there was no way he could not have heard.

"You what?" He asked needlessly, his eyes widening.

"Don't make me say it again, Potter. I wasn't uncomfortable because I had to kiss you," she sighed. "It's just… well… everyone was watching," she lied miserably.

She couldn't very well tell him that she had been terrified to kiss him because she dreaded losing control and making a total fool out of herself, could she? The lie would have to do.

"You're right. Sorry about them."

There was another pregnant pause, as Moire nibbled on her scone to avoid looking at him directly in the eyes.

"McLeoch?"

"Mhm?" She answered, forced to look at him.

"I didn't mind either."

Moire though for a second that she would choke on her breakfast. By telling James she didn't mind, what she had actually meant was that had they not had a full audience, their kiss would have lasted a whole lot longer than two seconds and would have escalated into something else entirely. He was giving her a bit of a pointed look and his hand went to seek hers on the table. It seemed so big as it sat on her much smaller one and his gaze was piercing her, the air between them electric once again.

"Potter, I–"

She was interrupted by the sound of people coming down the stairs. Just like that, James' hand was not on hers anymore as Roxanne and Dominique walked in, followed by Fleur.

"Ah! Good morning!" She said in her usual cheerful accented voice.

They greeted her in return and Moire hoped for a second that her face didn't show just how troubled she felt. But, as Dominique sat next to her and started chattering away, her doubts were eased, and she welcomed the distraction from James' eyes that were currently burning a whole through her head. He eventually stopped staring when Fred walked in and sat down at the table. The rest of the family made their way down little by little and soon, the whole household was gathered in the kitchen. Everyone seemed a lot more energetic than the morning of the wedding, excited by the prospect of opening presents. Moire took a second to appreciate the family gathered around her, who seemed to welcome every one of their children's friends like their own and, no matter how crowded the house got, always found a spot for them somewhere.

"Time to open presents!" Lily yelled as soon as she had swallowed her last bite of toast.

There was some shuffling around as they all made their way to the living room but eventually, they all sat down and started opening presents. Moire was over the moon as she was gifted several potions book, and almost squealed when Bill and Fleur handed her a rare book filled with even rarer potions that only experienced potion masters could get their hands on.

"We're curse breakers, we find very interesting things in our line of work," Bill had said nonchalantly, and she promised herself to send him some of her father's finest bottles every month.

Besides books, she had gotten some broom care items, as well as new Keeper gloves, and a few higher end items from Ron and George's shop. A few tears almost escaped her eyes as Mrs. Weasley handed her a handmade Weasley jumper that matched her clan's colors and was decorated with a big M in the middle. Her presents seemed to receive positive reactions, a few examples being books to Rose and Molly, a rather nice dragon skin purse for Mrs. Weasley, some Muggle gadgets for Mr. Weasley, new bats for her beaters, as well as a lily scented perfume for Lily using her mother's recipe, the same she used to make her own bergamot one. James' reaction was her favorite by far. He opened her present and immediately dropped it, his mouth open in a comical fashion.

"What have you got there, mate?" Fred asked.

"It-It's a first edition biography of Joscelind Wadcock," he said, his voice suddenly high pitched as he grabbed the biography of his idol from inside the box.

"Open it to the title page," she suggested, a smile at the corner of her lip.

The sound that came out of his throat them sent her in hysterics as his eyes scanned the inscription that said "To James S. Potter, who I am told is an amazing Chaser. May you set new records that surpass mine. Best, J. Wadcock." And next thing she knew, she was being bear hugged to death by a very grateful, and most importantly very strong, James Potter.

"Potter. Can't breathe," she joked, causing him to release her.

"How did you…?" He asked, an almost crazy light in his eyes.

"Joscelind is a very good family friend and a loyal customer of my father's," she shrugged. "She's a century old and has nothing to do but enjoy Firewhiskey and dote on her great-grandchildren. All I had to tell her was that it was a gift for the Chaser who has scored the most goals against me and she signed and sent it back to me in a blink of an eye."

It wasn't a lie. Out of every Chaser in Hogwarts, it was always hard to stop his throws and she always dreaded when he held the Quaffle and headed towards her, and she always imagined what it would have been liked if they had been on the same team. He seemed to hesitate for a little while before he grabbed a small box wrapped in brown paper from under the tree and handed it to her. Her name was carefully written on it while his was signed right under in smaller print and she took a second to realize that James Potter didn't have the messy handwriting she thought he would, but instead a nice and clean one. She carefully opened it and was faced with a pair of the most adorable earrings she had ever seen. They looked like little orange blossom flowers, and it amazed her how detailed and carefully crafted they were.

"You said your perfume was bergamot scented, and I think the flowers look like this?" He said cautiously, his shoulders dropping as if he was suddenly not so confident of his gift.

Her heart started beating a little faster, as she remembered the moment where she told him what her perfume smelled like. It had been in the laundry room and that was the first of the many moments where she had felt like something would happen that would change their dynamic forever. It also occurred to her that he had, at some point, snuck out of the Burrow without her noticing and, considering this was not a common design, possibly scoured the town for a jeweler who would be willing to commission a pair of earrings less than a week before Christmas. Before she could stop herself, she had leaned towards him and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she smiled, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.

He looked flabbergasted for a minute but responded with one of his own, looking at her with a tenderness that made her breath catch in her throat. Right then, she knew: if she kissed James Potter with as much passion as she felt, he would not run away. Quite the contrary, he would respond with the same intensity, and for some reason, she felt giddy yet terrified at the same time. They only broke eye contact when Lily caller her name and gave her the present she had gotten her, a hand made scarf. Lily somehow looked both delighted and anxious at the same time as she declared she had made the scarf herself, and though some spots were uneven, Moire proudly wore the scarf around the house the rest of the morning.

Everyone was in a great mood as they hung out in the living room, something that quickly became one of Moire's favorite activities, and many pictures were taken with everyone wearing their Weasley jumper. Ginny had ushered Moire in the pictures, insisting she was family and therefore must be in them. There was a particularly funny moment as the Weasley-Potter grandkids all lined up to spell bad words, even roping in their parents by pretending they were spelling more wholesome ones, cueing a lot of yelling and George cackling away, tears streaming down his face, and holding his stomach. As they finished their lunch, everyone was sent away to pack their stuff before they had to head in different directions. Rose seemed very excited at the prospect of the Manor's library, while ever so wholesome Lily was just happy to meet her family. Moire had no doubt her mother would soon dote on the little redhead, being very fond of children and Lily being Lily.

Molly, Lucy, and their parents left first, and though she had not known the girls well prior to this winter, Moire had enjoyed spending time with them and hoped they could make it to the Manor the next time they all met. As for Bill and his family, they headed back to Shell Cottage soon after, their Portkey being scheduled for later in the day. The rest of them had their bags sent off to the Manor and were lined up outside before two o'clock, waiting for the old rainboot to start glowing, and saying their goodbyes to the family in the meantime.

"Don't get into any trouble," Ginny warned after hugging all of them. "I better not get a letter from Laird McLeoch telling me you blew up part of his house."

"Don't worry about that, Mrs. Potter, blowing up the house would be mild compared to the trouble my cousins and I used to get into," Moire laughed, which did nothing to ease Ginny's worry.

The boot took its telltale blue hue, and after a last hurried round of goodbyes, they all hurried to grab part of the boot and braced themselves for the uncomfortable ride. The Burrow disappeared, and when their eyes opened again, they were faced by a vast plain covered in snow.

"Holy fuck, McLeoch, you should've told us that by Manor, you meant castle!" Fred exclaimed as he laid eyes on the imposing rock structure facing them.

Moire, though she had grown up there, could see how some people would be impressed by the centuries old McLeoch Manor. It had been big enough to form a small court in the fifteenth century, as Laird castles usually did, and though parts of it had been destroyed later due to either wars or renovations to make the castle meant to hold a court more of a family estate, it was still imposing and quite intimidating at first glance.

"Welcome to the Isle of Skye, guys! My cousins probably started arriving already. I'll show you to your rooms. The Manor has enough space for everyone to have their own, but it's very common for a few of us to end up piling up in one room and have a sleepover. My parents usually like to wait for people outside, but the New Year's Eve party is usually a lot of work, so my mother is probably either in the main hall or the kitchen, and the Laird is probably hiding in the library to rest up a bit."

She led the way towards the Manor, the heavy double doors wide open as her family would soon start flocking in, and they made their way through the vestibule. Her friends looked around them from the expensive chandeliers to the long carpets on the floor as they walked down the window lined hallway.

"Is that mah darlin' cousin I see?" A deep voice laced with a strong Scottish accent boomed.

Moire turned around as she heard her favorite cousin call out, smiling as she took in his freckled face and messy red curls.

"Oh, he's cute," she heard Roxanne mumble.

"Callum, ye wee bawface," she exclaimed, heading towards him and embracing him.

He returned the hug, lifting her off the ground.

"Yer maw said ye missed me, lass," he teased, ruffling her hair.

"Yer bum's oot the windae, if ye think I missed the likes o' ye," she bit back. "Ah did miss yer sister though, whaur is she?"

"Aila is in th' kitchen with Aunt Fiona," he answered with a noncommittal wave of his hand.

As Callum's eyes fell on the Potter-Weasley cousins, who were all following the exchange with a baffled yet amused expression, his smile got even wider ad he walked towards them.

"Is that James Potter I see? When Aunt Fiona told us you two were friends now, I though she was taking the piss out of me!" He exclaimed, his accent becoming less pronounced.

"Callum MacIntyre," James mused with a smirk. "Good to see you, mate."

"Likewise," the Scot answered good-naturedly, shaking his hand.

Callum was two years older than them, and he had been Slytherin's Quidditch captain for both his sixth and seventh years. He had been one of the best Seekers their house had ever had and a right pain in Gryffindor's backside the entire time he had been on the team.

"I'm just showing them where their rooms are," Moire clarified. "Care to tag along?"

"The grown ups like putting all the teenagers in one wing of the Manor," Callum explained as they all made their way to the rooms again. "They're in the opposite one. Less noise that way and more privacy for us."

"It's the wing where my room is. They know it's no use separating all of us since we're just going to end up with ten of us in one room anyways," Moire cheerfully added. "Alright, here they are."

"MOIRE IS BACK, GUYS!" A high-pitched voice called out and half a dozen redheads poked out of a few rooms before everyone cheered and ran out.

Her father being the sixth child and only son in a family of eight, her cousins ranged from adults to young children. The cousins she was around the most were those ranging from the ages of thirteen to about twenty, as those were the ones who were allowed in the barn during the holiday parties. She got along well with the rest of them, but they were either too old and had their own children and families already or were too young to be allowed to participate in their antics. There were about a dozen or so first cousins between that age, but there were also a few of her father's cousin's kids who were also very close, so the barn was usually crowded with about thirty teenagers or so.

"Alright, guys!" She said, calming most of them down. "We have guests, behave!"

She did a round of introductions for everyone, and it looked like her friends and her family were getting along quite well. A smile came upon her face and she relaxed for a bit before wondering if James had been anxious about her not blending in with his family before she remembered that she had known the Weasley-Potter family before the two of them got along, and even the two weeks she spent with them the past summer had been prior to them ever hoping to be in the same room without arguments starting.

"So… any more of your friends coming?" Callum asked.

"Erin's family takes holidays seriously so she can't come, Emma came last year so she wanted to spend Christmas and New Years with her family this year, and Leah is in Portugal, so it's only McKenzie."

"Alright, then. Oh, and by the way, the Laird wants to talk to you about something."

"Give me a second, will ye?"

She pulled James aside, interrupting his conversation about Puddlemere United with her cousin Dougall, who was a year older than they were.

"I'm going to try and locate my parents. I think my father needs to talk to me. Everyone usually has a designated room for when they come visit, so Callum can show you which ones are free usually. Mine is the one at the end of the hall with the Slytherin banner over it."

"You don't say," he smirked. She chuckled at the sass.

"Your trunks should already be placed inside your rooms, so it's just a matter of finding where. I thought Lily would appreciate the one across from mine, but aside that, I'm not sure where everyone is."

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out. Go do what you have to do," he reassured her, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

Checking that no one was looking at them, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before making her way to the kitchens.

"Moire!"

Her cousin Aila, who had just turned twelve years old, ran up from the bench she was sitting on, to embrace her, making her mother turn around and give her one of her trademark gentle smiles.

"Hi, love," she smiled, smoothing her hair back on her head.

Aila had always had a sweet personality, and it shocked no one when she was sorted into Hufflepuff. Though her family was mostly Slytherin, her aunts and father had married all over the houses, and it was not uncommon for some of her cousins to have been placed somewhere other than the green and silver house. Her own mother had been a Ravenclaw. She let go of her cousin and went up to her.

Though they had house elves in the house, Fiona McLeoch was not raised to kicking it back and letting other do the work, so when big events such as family meetings were being planned, she was found bustling around like a busy bee helping out the elves. Of course, she had been met with a lot of resistance at first, but after almost twenty years, they got used to it. Both the Laird and her were hardworking in their own ways, and it was no wonder they found each other.

"Hello, Ma."

"Hi, dear," she answered, wiping her hands on her apron and embracing her. "Are these new?" She asked, looking at her earrings.

"Christmas gift," she answered, her cheeks heating up a bit.

If her mother noticed, she didn't let on.

"Callum said Da wanted to speak to me?"

"He's resting in the library."

Her father had probably been working a lot to help prepare for the family meeting, and his favorite place in the house to unwind was undoubtedly the library.

"I'll go find him."

After giving one last hug to her mother and a quick pat on her cousin's head, she made her way down the hall until she reached the big mahogany doors of the library. She opened one of them and slipped inside, enjoying the smell of old books, fresh ink, and the two roaring fireplaces that warmed the library that was every book lover's dream. The walls that faced the garden were mostly glass panels, that were always kept spotless and without a single scratch. Staircases spiraled up to other balcony like levels, and ladders allowed to reach the higher shelves. On the deep blue ceiling, the constellations were replicated, and as the earth orbited and their placement on the sky outside shifted, so did the ones above her head.

"Ah. A bhobain," came the gruff voice from the biggest chair in the room.

Smiling at the term of endearment coming from such a solemn man, she made her way towards her father. He stood up, his dark hair and impressive beard carefully combed per usual, and as she reached him, he kissed her on the forehead and waited for her to sit in the chair across from his before he sat back.

"Sit, dear one. We have much to talk about."


Hi all! To apologize for the tardiness, I made sure this one was extra long, so I hope you liked it! I just finished my exams not too long ago and had to rest up before I wrote this.

We finally get to meet the Laird, and it seems like both James and Moire are connecting some braincells. Finally, right?

Enjoy, and don't forget to please leave a review to let me know what you all think!