The carriage ride to the Montague's party never seemed very clear in Chris' memory. It was a ride he made with his parents every year on each Yule Eve, and so they all blurred in his memory. He and his father would banter about Quidditch, his mother would cluck at them both and they would all chuckle. His relationship with his parents was remarkably relaxed compared to those of his friends. Their family home was in Dover, outside of the hotbed of politics of the more central counties. Chris frankly preferred it, preferring to be an outsider and observer rather than thick in the morass of intrigue. He rather enjoyed being able to sit back and chuckle at the situations his friends found themselves in.

            The Montague home was lit up like a beacon upon the hill where it sat. As the Warrington carriage pierced the silencing charms around the drive and rolled to a stop in front of the stairs leading into Hagan House, a burst of sounds became audible. The chatter of hundreds of purebloods blended together as Chris and his father stepped out of the carriage, both helping his mother down. Through the high windows, candlelight shone and the figures of Slytherin revellers were reflected upon the snow banks.

            The line of newly arrived guests stretched up the stairs. His mother immediately blended into a group of her friends, his father following her to greet the husbands and Chris spotted the cluster of his year mates halfway up the steps.

            Blowing across his hands, he slipped in between Sheraton and Aemelia, grinning as he accepted kisses on the cheek from both. Julian proffered a hand, "Happy Yule, Warrington. Nice of you to finally join us."

            Chris shrugged. "I figured I'd let you get a place in line and spend less time outside."

            Sheraton nodded abruptly, Julian's over robe draped over her shoulders not seeming to fully guard against the cold, "Why they can't hold the bloody receiving line inside I'll never know."

            Julian tugged her against his side and ran his arms briskly against hers. Chris couldn't help but notice the little giggle she made as she cuddled more closely against him.

            "I suppose it's not so bad when you have someone to cuddle up with," Aemelia didn't bother to ignore noticing it.

            Adrian on her other side snorted and crossed his arms. "Where the hell is Jas?"

            "Coming, I'm sure," Miles took a surreptitious sip from his flask and passed across Adrian and Aemelia to Chris. Chris took his own slug before handing it to Julian. Julian offered it back when Aemelia snatched it from his hand. "Oh for Merlin's sake," she muttered as she tossed back a mouthful.

            The group was still laughing when Neil pierced the crowd to come towards them.

            "Baddock!" Julian called out, then his jaw dropped as they saw who was following behind him, a kidskin gloved hand clasped in his much larger one.

            "And Cordelia?" Sheraton asked with an arched eyebrow.

            "Play nice, Sher," Aemelia hissed. "If I have to suffer, so do you."

            "Happy Yule!" Cordelia said with a bright smile as they joined the circle.

            "Cordy, I don't think I've ever seen your family here before," Adrian drawled.

            Aemelia elbowed him in the ribs as Cordelia flushed slightly. "I'm not here with my family; I'm here with Neil's."

            Neil threw a comfortable arm around her waist. "Cordelia and I were betrothed this afternoon," he told his friends calmly as he gave them all a steely eye.

            The muttered 'Congratulations' that echoed through the group seemed to somehow convince Cordelia of their sincere joy as she blushed and murmured quiet thanks while obtrusively flashing a heart shaped diamond at the group.

            Aemelia and Sheraton shared a wry glance behind Chris' back.

            "Not a family stone."

            "Store bought even."

            "I get really nervous when you two start speaking in such hushed tones, but I'm not quite secure enough in my sexuality to join in. So unless you want it repeated in the group..." Chris mused out loud, turning his head to look at them both.

            He grinned as both girls gave him perfunctory glares as they moved up the steps. As the group stepped out of the snow and into the atrium Chris raised an eyebrow. If he had known this would be the celebratory purpose of the evening, he would have come prepared.

            Cecily Montague stood at the head of the receiving line as usual; her husband next to her but it was Edward and Jasmine next to one another which drew the group's attention. Both Ed's and Jas's parents looked ecstatic on either side of the couple, and that and the huge rock upon the hand that Jasmine was trying to hide conveyed the announcement of the evening quite clearly. The disguised misery on Jasmine and Edward's faces, only visible to their friends, inferred that this decision had not been shared with them for a long period of time beforehand.

            Cordelia's brow furrowed as she looked around the group, which had suddenly quieted as they slowly moved forward towards the families. Then realization dawned as Jasmine smiled politely at an elderly man while she twisted a large ring around her finger. Cordelia may have looked out of her league, but she wasn't dumb and Chris was slightly impressed as she figured it out for herself. She may not be such a problem.

            Problems came to his mind as the group of seventh years approached Mrs. Montague. She smiled widely at Sheraton, being one of Mrs. Snape's tea circle and kissed the young girl on both cheeks.

            Whispers trailed down the line towards Chris as he politely kissed Mrs. Montague's hand as she fluttered over his rakish grin and gave Mr. Montague the same grin as they shook hands.

            "...only today? I'm so -"

            "Save the sympathy Sher, just have some alcohol ready for me..."

            "Ed -"

            "Shut it, Ian."

            "Shutting it."

            Chris gave Ed's hand a squeeze as they shook.

            "Thanks for coming, Chris."

            "My best wishes." Chris offered quietly to Jasmine as he kissed her palm. She shut her eyes quickly then flashed him a quick smile.

            As they waited for the rest of their group to trail through the line, Chris hovered with Sheraton and Julian.

            "This is bad," Ian murmured.

            "You think?" Sheraton asked archly, handing him his robe as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, revealing the skimming long sleeved and hemmed amber silk dress that was both demure and enticing.

            Sheraton rolled her eyes as Julian's jaw dropped. She turned to Chris. "We need to get both of them quite drunk, and quite away from one another. If we could also get Pucey into another county, it would be helpful."

            Chris turned around and bit his tongue as Adrian was lingering in front of Jas, ignoring the blatant glares he was receiving from Ed, Mr. Montague, and Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson. Mrs. Montague was embroiled in a discussion with someone at the top of the line and Jasmine was flirting as well as she was getting from Adrian.  As Adrian finally turned away with a smug grin on his face, Sheraton swore under her breath. "This is going to be hell."

            Hell is often referred to in circles of torment and pain, with legions of devils watching over the punished. As Chris idly drank from the glass of what was supposed to be watered wine, he couldn't help but draw the comparison. Hagan House circled around the round rotunda with the mosaic Montague crest, a staircase circling around the atrium up six levels. As all the guests had arrived, the two families with their children had taken their place in front of the roaring fire. Chris and his friends watched from the third floor, on a right angle from Ed and Jas. Sheraton leaned over the rail, Ian resting a hand on her shoulder. Miles was on the other side of the couple from Chris and as the words of the public ceremony began, the two boys exchanged a loaded look.

            Blythe Parkinson raised his glass of red wine to first the Montagues and then the assembled guests. "My family and my daughter agree to the joining of our house to that of Montague. I entrust my treasure, my first born daughter, pure, fertile and true to our World - into your family and son's safekeeping."

            Roberto Montague stepped forward as he raised his own glass in a circular movement to indicate all his guests. "My family and son agree to the joining of our house to that of Parkinson. We will honour and cherish your treasure as she represents renewal and joy for our family, protecting her and her children at all costs."

            The two men faced one another as they drank the glass of blood red liquid down, and time seemed to holds its breath for a moment as the two men whirled as one, arms extended.

            Jasmine's chest expanded as she drew in a deep breath.

            Edward lifted his chin.

            The two glasses smashed into the fire and the guests burst into applause for the new couple.

            Jasmine bit her lip and shut her eyes tightly as she released the gush of air.

            Edward returned his gaze to the floor.

            It was sealed.

            As those assembled move forwards to congratulate not the couple, but their parents, Ed lifted his head and caught Chris's gaze. Chris nodded his head behind him, to indicate the second parlour in which their group had assembled at these parties for the last several years. Ed nodded. Sher and Ian moved back into the parlour with Neil and Cordelia. Aemelia and Adrian had not watched the ceremony, turning to the selection of liquors in the room. Miles moved closer to Chris as both watched Ed extend a hand to his new betrothed. Jasmine started to recoil until he inclined his head towards their destination. Cautiously, she placed her hand into his and allowed him to lead her upstairs. Chris and Miles watched this scene quietly. It would have been a conciliatory moment if not for the anger on Jasmine's face.

            When the couple reached the third landing, after receiving good wishes from those now mingling around the large manor, both faces were stormy as they dropped their clasp. They swept into the parlour, Miles following. Chris put his glass down on the flat wooden rail. He'd lost his taste for wine for the night.

            The parlour was only partially lit but living in dungeons accustomed you to the dark, so for the seventh years it felt quite homey on these nights. Jasmine had moved straight towards Sheraton, clasping her hands in hers as she ranted about the day.

            "Bloody gave it to me as a present, expecting me to jump up and down with joy! The most underhanded way of telling me -"

            "Oh halt the dramatics express, Jas. It's as decent as any other way of telling you." Ed settled on the couch opposite, with a full glass of whiskey in his hand.

            "But you weren't told today, Montague." she shot back, hands on her hips.

            "No, I had the bloody ring box thrust at me the day I came home, Parkinson. Not that you're going to be one for long..." Ed took a shot of the whiskey. Jasmine picked up the vase in front of her and flung it at him. Miles reacted quickly, pointing his wand on the vase. "Wingardium Leviosa!" All but Jas and Ed rolled their eyes, Miles had been the first in their year to pick up that particular charm and never let any of them forget it. As the vase was safely lowered back to a side table, Chris sat next to Ed.

            "Stop antagonizing her, man. It'll only make things worse in the long run."

            When Ed took another sip of his drink, muttering "She started it," it was Chris' turn to roll his eyes.

            Jasmine had moved from Sheraton to Adrian, who was whispering quickly into her ear as he glared at Edward over her shoulder. Jasmine was clenching her fists in the fabric of his over robe as she listened to him.  Adrian smirked as he spoke, his hands trailing down her back to pull her even closer against him.

            That seemed to be the breaking point for Edward. His eyes narrowed and he tossed back his drink. Chris laid a cautionary hand on his arm, "Ed – don't stoop to his level…" he tried to caution of his friend but his touch was shaken off.

            "Shut it, Chris," he stood and locked eyes with Adrian. "Hands off, Pucey." The uneasy tension which had existed between the two boys through out the past years was escalating before their friends eyes.

            Jasmine spun to glare at her betrothed, "Screw you Ed."

            He graced her with a chilly smile. "Remember, Jas – all in good time."

            Adrian growled, stepping past the fuming Jasmine. "Those are fighting words, Montague. And my fist has been itching to interact with your face all year."

            The two boys approached one another and began to warily circle as Edward sneered at his fellow house mate. "Just try it, Pucey. I have every right to address Jasmine as I wish, along with every right to fling you into the snow. Remember who the master of Hagan house is."

            Aemelia had moved forward and was tugging at Adrian's arm, he turned slightly to listen to her. His face darkened but as she spoke and then became more insistent, he seemed to relent. He gave Jasmine a long look and then turned back stiffly to face Edward. "As lovely as this evening has been, I'm feeling somewhat ill and will return home. My felicitations to the… happy couple."  

            Chris lowered his head as Adrian stalked out, with a dark look for both parts of the so called joyful couple.

            Jasmine stalked over to Ed,  and smacked him on the chest. "You miserable, misbegotten –" She would have continued if he hadn't taken the opportunity to make use of his considerably greater strength.

            In a single abrupt movement, he caught her wrists and held him fast against him. "Learn your place, my dear – by my side and no one else's. I think you and I need to circulate amongst the rest of the party now." He let her go for a moment, but quickly caught one of her hands again to tuck it into the crook of his elbow. Their gazes caught and a war seemed to wage between the two. The war of wills ended as quickly as it began as Jasmine tossed her golden hair over her shoulder, seeming both angry and unsettled at the resolve Edward was suddenly showing.

            Chris could see she was fuming internally but she seemed to bite her tongue, though she sent a clear look towards Sheraton and Aemelia. The couple left the room a united front, though their stiff backs denoted much more than good posture.

            Chris turned to Miles, who was wearing an amused smile on his face. Sheraton and Aemelia had their heads bent close to one another while Julian was watching the two girls carefully as he spoke to Cordelia and Neil.  Chris filed the scene away in his mind and took a sip of his whiskey, hiding his frown behind his glass as he stood and moved to the window, to watch as the snow began to fall over the night.

            It was still snowing the next afternoon as Chris made his way towards the greenhouse, walking briskly under the covered walkways that crossed most of Achainni Manor, the home of the Warrington family since the middle of the 16th century. Ironically, it had been a monastery until Henry VIII's campaign against them. The Warringtons were looking to relocate from a smaller home in the countryside and it had been offered to them by the crown itself for a very reasonable price: the murder of the Abbot.

            For the Warringtons then, and now – were no simple noble farmers.

            They had been the hired killers of both the Wizarding and to a smaller extent the Muggle world as long as Hogwarts had been in existence. Henry VIII had remained a great patron of the family once his simple request, or Gaelic achainni, had been granted – the Warringtons had supplied the executioners for both Anne Boleyn and Katherine Howard.

            Warringtons never sullied their own hands, merely provided those who would and the means to accomplish the task. They never formally joined the side of any cause, preferring to remain friendly to both sides and retain the ability to retreat to their country sanctuary when battles became too intense.

            It was a bloody legacy that Chris bore. But, his parents had always taught him of the wisdom of their family and in the ability to see beyond such a sullying concept. His family had a long tradition of marrying for love, of finding solace in the arms of your family as an escape from the world's reality. The events of the previous night, the fire in Jasmine's eyes as she held back from running down the steps of Hagan House into her awaiting carriage impressed the reality of an unhappy marriage upon Chris, and strengthened his resolution to continue the family tradition.

            His pace sped up as he approached the greenhouse to see he was a few minutes late. He could see a figure pacing through the shaded green glass. He opened the door, shucking off his robe in the sudden and humid heat, leaving the soft sounds of snow falling into a peaceful quiet but for the sounds of stilettos on brick. He wasn't quite prepared for Alicia as she flung herself at him. Chris staggered slightly as he wrapped his arms around her.

            She pulled back to look up at him searchingly, "What's wrong?" she asked.

            He gave her a small smile, "Nothing's wrong, love – I just need to talk to you."

            Her eyes narrowed at him. "I don't believe you, Christopher."

            Chris pouted as he led Alicia towards a bench, "I'm hurt."

            She remained standing as he sat, hands on her hips. He took the moment to rake her with his eyes; she was dressed for dinner already in a black wrap dress with subtle patterns of gold and silver vines running through the fabric. She looked bloody fantastic to his hungry eyes – he hadn't seen her in days.

            She smacked his shoulder, seeming to be resolute in her annoyance with him. "Stop drooling."

            "Can I help it when I have such a… appetizing sight right in front of me?" He tugged at her hand and was successful in pulling her down into his lap.

            She was still unrelenting though, as she placed a palm on his cheek. "What happened that made it so important for you to speak to me before dinner?" Alicia and her parents customarily joined the Warringtons for a post Yule dinner but Chris had sent her an owl asking her to meet him an hour earlier.

            He gave a half hearted smile. "You know me too well." It was easier to let her think she did, at least. He had purposely let the language of his note hint at some sort of worrisome event.

            Alicia simply raised an un-amused eyebrow at him and motioned for him to continue speaking.

            He shook his head, "You're becoming more Slytherin every day, you know."

            "Christopher. Stop trying to change the subject. I want to know why there was such urgency in you seeing me." That damned Gryffindor pride was rearing its ugly head again and Chris grimaced internally as he spoke.

            "There were two engagements announced last night. Neil and Cordelia, and Ed and Jas."

            Alicia raised a blonde eyebrow. "Montague and Parkinson, hm? That must have been a joyful celebration." As much as the Slytherin house presented a front to the school, the clashing of personalities was obvious to their year mates in all houses. Perhaps not to the Hufflepuffs, but neither the Ravenclaws nor Gryffindors were blind.
            "It was diverting to say the least."

            Alicia sighed. "So Hunting season has begun, then. No real surprise there. " The yearly ritual of seventh years pairing off as they prepared to leave Hogwarts and enter the real world was well known to all.

            Chris nodded, taking her hand in his. "It has. That's why I wanted to confer with you before I spoke to your father tonight."

            Alicia inhaled softly, her eyes darkening with tears as she looked at him. "You… really?"

            "Really, love. You, us – this is right. We both know it. We can be good together and I can't think of anyone else that I would want to live a life with. I know you think me somewhat of a misogynist…"

            She tried to sniff at his self-deprecating comment but her tears turned it into an unladylike snort and he smiled, brushing a light kiss against her lips. He brushed the tears off of her cheeks as he pulled her closely to him.

            Alicia sighed and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, leaning against his broad chest as her hands strayed. One caressed his back, sending shivers up his spine as she tangled her fingers in his hair. Chris splayed one hand across her lower back as the other slid up her thigh, moving underneath the fabric of her skirt. A rhythm developed between the two, the sound of quick breaths indrawn between drawn out kisses as both tried to survive without oxygen. Alicia's sighs were music to Chris's ears as he took advantage of her low cut neckline to lave kisses across her collarbone and downwards, sucking on the pale skin of the curve of her breast. She gasped and pulled his mouth back up to hers with abandon

            When they broke away a few minutes later, both were trying to regain their breaths, that mingled together, and Alicia smiled smugly as Chris shook his head at her.

            "I am trying to be eloquent, here – you need to stop being so distracting."

Her tears were back as she gave him a trembling smile as he continued.

 I know I can be a prat sometimes, but you know that I all I want is for you to be happy,  and to keep you that way as long as I live."

            She drew in a long breath and her smile seemed as though it would split her face. "You make me so utterly happy, Christopher."

            Chris returned the smile. "Then I'm happy. And I'll speak to your father tonight, perhaps arrange for us to be formally betrothed over Easter break?"

            Alicia's smile and swift kisses were all he needed as he pulled her to him again, and could almost forget about the world outside of this warm haven in the cold night, where the silence was not broken by cries, but of their own sounds of joy.