-1Setting down her shopping bags, Gwen dusted soot off her clothes, trying to clean off the Puddlemere United sweatshirt "borrowed" from Oliver's closet the other day. "Stolen" was more like it. Borrowed without asking, and with no intention of giving it back. She and her mother had just returned from a day of Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley, and Gwen checked her purchases for damage and soot. The floo network is definitely not the best way to travel.
Gwen glanced up at the pictures on the mantelpiece, most of them moving. One photograph in particular caught her eye: Her mother and father, almost twenty years younger, smiling and waving with the Statue of Liberty in the background. All of her now-deceased grandparents were also in the picture. Lifting it gently, she lightly ran fingertips over their faces, as though trying to refresh her memory. Her father's parents, Muggles, whose deaths in a car accident prompted their move to Scotland. Her mother's father, victim of some nameless Death Eater. And Grandma Wendy, nearly a year gone.
She felt her mother's hand on her shoulder and cleared her throat. Her hand fell away and she placed the picture frame back on the mantle. She tried to change the subject.
"Tell me again how you met Da." Gwen's voice wavered only slightly.
"He always likes to tell that story," her mother said, and Gwen could hear the smile in her voice. "Why don't you take your bags upstairs and start wrapping," she continued softly. "I'll let you know when it's time for dinner."
Nodding her head, Gwen picked up her bags and went to her room, where sunny walls turned gray. Instead of wrapping gifts, however, she retrieved a photo album from her bookcase and curled up on her bed.
She flipped through pages, looking at still pictures of the Penningtons. Her father was so accustomed to Muggle living that they still used many Muggle conveniences in their home. Gwen had never used a telephone, though. Memories of her father's parents were fuzzy.
Oliver's head appeared around the door, followed by a soft knock. "May I come in?"
He was halfway into the room by the time Gwen nodded, uselessly scrubbing at her eyes and cheeks, dampening her shirtsleeves. He climbed onto the bed next to her, silently put an arm around her, and kissed her temple. Turning his attention to the photo album, he skipped ahead to moving pictures of the two of them.
"My parents and I are staying for dinner," he said, feeling as though he were steeling himself for something. "This is a good picture." The two of them on toy brooms, age seven. "Oh, and this one," he chuckled. Oliver chasing Gwen around the playhouse, her pigtails streaming behind her, both of them laughing.
Gwen turned her head to look at him. "What is it, Oliver?" she asked in a firm tone.
"We won't be here Christmas Day," he said in a rush. "We're going to Edinburgh to visit family." He tensed, as though expecting a blow.
Gwen took a deep breath, her lips thinning. "So I won't see you on Christmas?" Deep breaths. It had happened before; it had just been a long time. "For Merlin's sake, Oliver, I'm not going to hit you." She rolled her eyes and stretched out on her back, settling down on her pillow. He relaxed... a little.
"We'll be here Christmas Eve," he offered, then plucked at her sweatshirt. "Nice shirt. I think I like you in my clothes."
Gwen grinned. "What are you talking about? This is mine!" She pulled the hood up and crossed her arms tightly over her chest.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine. I can see a stain from my broom polish right... THERE!" At the last word, he began a tickle attack on her belly. Gwen shrieked and squealed, writhing under his hands.
"It's... mine!" she yelled between giggles.
"Give it back!" he demanded, trying to keep from laughing as he moved on top of her, tickling determinedly.
"Never!" she gasped defiantly.
The sound of a throat clearing came from the doorway. Fighting giggles, they both turned their heads and saw Gwen's father standing just inside the room. The sight of him was enough to quell their laughter, and Oliver fell off the bed in his rush to get off her.
Her father cleared his throat again. "It's... time for dinner." He hesitated a moment, mouth open, before shaking his head and walking away.
Gwen scrambled to the edge of the bed and looked down at Oliver. "Are you all right?" she breathed.
He sat up slowly, patting his chest, arms, and legs, watching the door, mouth agape.
"Yeah... I'm fine." He looked up at her with wonder. "I guess we had better go downstairs then."
Gwen hopped off the bed and helped him up before cautiously making their way downstairs. The four adults were talking amongst themselves, and Gwen expected someone to say something when they took their seats at the table. She waited nervously as plates of food moved around the table, and then...
"Have you two decided what you're going to dress up as for the costume party?" Mrs. Wood asked. Gwen let out a breath she did not know she was holding.
"Pirates," Oliver answered.
"We found some clothes in the attic at Grandma Wendy's house," Gwen added, recovering.
"It's your house, you know," her father said gently.
"I know," she replied hesitantly. "It's just... It's still her house. I won't be moving in until after Hogwarts and... It's still her house, is all." Oliver patted her leg comfortingly under the table while she idly pushed peas around her plate with her fork.
"Gwen wants to hear the story of how we met," her mother interjected.
"Again?" her father chuckled. "All right, I love telling this story anyway. Well, as you know, I attended the Salem Institute in Massachusetts, not Hogwarts like the rest of you. My father wanted me to be a lawyer like him, but that obviously wasn't going to happen." He smiled ruefully. "After graduation from Salem, I wasn't sure if I wanted to go into Magical Law Enforcement, Muggle Relations, or International Magical Cooperation. I finally took an internship with IMC and they sent me to the Ministry in London to 'assist my superiors and learn the ropes.' I spent most of my time Apparating back to Salem, seat of the American Ministry, to fetch a 'decent cup of coffee.'
"A couple other interns thought it necessary to show me how they do Quidditch 'across the pond,' and then took me to the pub afterwards. The place was packed, but I spotted your mother across the room with some friends. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. We... talked for a while..." He seemed flustered for a moment. "Well, then I decided on International Magical Cooperation for sure. The rest is history." Gwen's parents smiled at each other from opposite ends of the table with sickly sweet adoration.
"What about you, Da?" Oliver asked his father, who turned to his wife.
"We went to Hogwarts together," Mr. Wood began, "but never dated. I could never work up the nerve to ask her out to lunch at Hogsmeade. Ha, a Gryffindor lacking the courage to ask out a girl," he laughed. "I was on the Quidditch team, you know, so I dated plenty of other girls, but none of them really meant anything to me." He cleared his throat when Maura raised an eyebrow. "Don't do that, son."
"I always liked your father, too," Mrs. Wood said, "but girls just didn't do the asking then. Besides, every girl adored the star Keeper. We met up again a few years after Hogwarts, when I saw him playing for Puddlemere United." She chuckled. "They lost, but I went to 'get his autograph' anyway."
"I finally had the guts to take her to dinner, then," he finished. "When she still wanted to be with me after a Bludger to the shoulder cut short my Quidditch career, I knew she was the one. I was Keeper for Scotland during two Quidditch World Cup seasons," he sighed. His wife patted his arm and kissed his cheek reassuringly. "At least in the Office of Magical Games and Sports I can still have dealings with it." He fell silent and everyone focused on the meal.
On Christmas Eve, a few days later, the Woods were over for a small party, as well as a few of Gwen's father's co-workers. The adults were all in the parlor, discussing boring work stuff and poking fun at bosses, while Gwen and Oliver watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas in her room. This tradition was normally observed on Christmas morning, but Oliver would be leaving for Edinburgh early in the morning. Oliver was stretched out on his back and Gwen rested her head on his shoulder.
"You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch," they both sang, loud and off-key, laughing at the horrible noise.
"Do you think we're getting too old for this?" Oliver asked.
"What?! You can never be too old for Dr. Seuss!" Gwen exclaimed. "Besides, what else could be doing?"
He glanced at the open door, pausing a moment to listen to the chatter drifting up the stairs. "Nothing, really," he grumbled.
"Here, since I won't see you tomorrow..." Grabbing her wand off the nightstand, Gwen used a nonverbal spell to summon a parcel from her closet. It floated across the room to drop into Oliver's lap.
"What is it?" he asked.
She rolled her eyes. "Open it and find out."
He pulled off the golden ribbon and tore off the maroon paper. "A Puddlemere United Sweatshirt? But I already have one of these."
"Not anymore," Gwen laughed. "I told you I'm not giving it back."
He dug a small box out of his pocket and handed it to her. "Here you are, then," he said, setting down the sweatshirt.
Gwen lifted the lid off the black box and found a familiar crystal. "I know you like the silly thing, so I snatched it from your jewelry box and got a proper silver chain for it." He held out his hand for the necklace and she sat up, pulling her hair out of the way.
"Thank you. It looks much nicer now." After he hooked the chain, she settled back down to use him as her pillow, and then used her wand to close the door half way. She waited a moment before telling him to close his eyes.
"Why?" Oliver asked. "I don't want to go to sleep."
"I hope not," Gwen said, making her head more comfortable on his chest and hooking one leg over his. "I think it's time to test this thought projection thing again."
Gwen pictured herself in the study at his house, where he started this whole thing at the beginning of break.
Gwen stood in front of the table, wearing a skirt and sweater. Oliver suddenly appeared, so he must have gotten the idea. However, he was wearing his pirate costume, and their surroundings changed to the cabin of the ship from her dream. Even as she transformed her clothes to the gray silk dress, she couldn't help but think how useful this was.
"Ooh, a little role-play?" she teased. She projected herself wrapping arms around his neck.
"This is nice," he said, "but really weird." Suddenly he disappeared.
Gwen opened her eyes and propped herself up on one elbow. "Maybe this won't be as easy as I thought," she admitted.
"Sorry, I lost it." Oliver frowned. "It's weird. It's like daydreaming, but... together."
"Want to try again?"
He nodded, gently pulling her back down again. They both concentrated on the scene.
They were back in the cabin, Gwen wearing the gray dress, and Oliver in his red coat. His hands snaked around her waist as he kissed her. She pushed his coat off his shoulders before it evaporated. He started on her buttons and her hands went to his belt buckle. Those out of the way, Gwen backed toward the bunk, drawing Oliver with her.
The image wavered.
"Look, they're asleep," Gwen heard her mother whisper.
It vanished. Gwen and Oliver lay still to support their belief.
"I'd almost say leave them if we didn't have to go so early tomorrow," Mrs. Wood said. She shook Oliver gently. "Oliver, wake up. C'mon, dear, we have to get going."
Feigning grogginess, Oliver sat up slowly, sliding Gwen's head off his chest. She rubbed her eyes and followed suit.
"C'mon, Oliver," Mrs. Wood repeated. "We have to be up early tomorrow."
Gwen hugged Oliver and quickly kissed his cheek, awkward with their mothers in the room. She longed to entwine her fingers in his hair and press her lips to his, but with their mothers watching...
"We'll be back late tomorrow, so I'll see you the day after," Oliver said, emanating an unspoken promise to pick up where they left off. Gwen watched him leave, then got ready for bed, sounds of the party below slowly dying down.