Door 13

He was impressed, that he had to admit. He hadn't expected her to live in such a house, in such a neighbourhood. This here was far from being a small country cottage! Sure, it was still on the countryside, a small town, close to a forest and all, but it was obviously not a poor village. And it wasn't a muggle village either.

Angelina's family home was a rather large white house, a gravel path, lawn on each side, leading from the door in the fence towards the front door.

Angelina knocked at the door, silently cursing because she hadn't thought of taking her keys with her to Montague's place. Montague looked around bored, waiting to get this day over as soon as possible.

When the door was opened and Angelina was pulled forwards he looked up at the man that was hugging her right now. And Montague couldn't prevent to raise his eyebrows.

This man didn't look like a woodcutter at all. Of course he was tall, that he had predicted right. He was even taller than Montague had expected and Angelina's father towered over Montague with a full head. But there his predictions already stopped from being true.

Michael Johnson was clean shaved – opposite to what Montague had expected – and he actually had a sense of style. His clothes were far from being cheap or old-fashioned. They looked more like something Montague could find in his own wardrobe.

"So, you must be Montague?" The deep voice of Angelina's father brought him back from his thoughts and he shook the hand of the other man. After he had greeted Samuel and Emily he let them enter the house and walked ahead towards the kitchen.

"Angelina." The woman that came out of the kitchen now was the complete opposite from what Montague had imagined Angelina's mother to look like! She was as tall as her daughter and didn't look much older than her. The only real different was in the way they dressed.

Leila Johnson was, just as her husband, dressed in some casual elegant clothes. As she greeted her guests Montague wondered how Angelina could have such an odd taste in clothes when her parents obviously knew how to dress.

"So, any special biscuits you want to start with?" Leila asked and smiled Emily. The girl took in her new surrounding with wide eyes. How different did this house look from Montague's. Everything was bright and warm and it was decorated for the holidays. What a wonderful childhood Angelina must have had in this house.

Angelina's parents reminded her of her own parents – as far as she could remember them. They were kind and loving and so different from Miss Robert. Emily pushed the thought away again. Today was not a day to think of Miss Robert. She followed Leila with Angelina and Samuel into the kitchen.

"So, you want to help them with the biscuits?" Montague turned to face Michael, not really sure how to respond. For some reason he didn't feel like replying with one of his usual answers.

"If not, I could use some help outside with the tree. I have to take the lower branches."

And so Montague decided to do some 'real man's work' instead of baking. At least this time Angelina didn't get what she wanted.

"Your parents aren't home for the holidays?" Michael asked him while they worked on the tree in the garden behind the house.

"No, they travel through Europe this time of the year."

"Following the sun?"

"That depends." 'It depends on how many countries they can have between them' he thought. It was through that the Montagues travelled around Europe, this year, his mother spent in Greece while his father was in Iceland.

Samuel was standing in the doorway, watching the women preparing the dough for the biscuits. His hands were buried in his pockets, his lips formed a thin line. He shouldn't be there, in the kitchen, it wasn't a man's place. Miss Robert had always said this to them in the orphanage.

Angelina was looking at him and cocking her head to one side.

"You don't want to help?" she asked encouragingly. Samuel shook his head and headed outside. Angelina wanted to follow him but her mother held her back and shook her head.

"Look." She said and nodded towards the kitchen window. They could see Samuel walking towards where Montague and Angelina's father were working on the tree.

"Hey, you don't want to help with the biscuits?" Montague asked Samuel when he walked towards the two men. The boy shook his head and buried his hands deeper in his pockets.

"That's no work for a man. If the other boys in the orphanage would find out, they'd make fun of me."

"There's nothing wrong with a man baking every once in a while." Michael smiled at him but Samuel was not about to change his mind. But his face showed the fight he was having inside.

"You absolutely sure you don't want to bake?" Montague asked.

"You aren't baking either." Samuel observed while looking up at Montague. 'So much for her not getting her will' Montague thought while he motioned for Samuel to follow him into the house.

They stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a moment and watched the three who were right now putting the dough on the table. Angelina looked up and looked questioningly at the two.

"We've come to help you with this stuff." Montague murmured and nodded towards the dough on the table. Angelina and her mother had to smile. They doubted that Montague knew how much alike the two male guests looked right now.

Both of them had their hands buried deep in their pockets, a mask of boredom on their faces and were standing there, as though they were preparing to run away at any moment.

"You better put something on over your clothes." Leila said smiling and Angelina went and brought them two aprons. When she handed one of them to Montague, her mother smiled at them and raised her eyes above their heads.

"Would you two look up there." She said and Angelina and Montague did as they were told. When their eyes took in what was above them they wore the same pained expression on their faces. They were standing right underneath a mistletoe.