The train had left the station over an hour before, according to Greg's watch, which meant they were very close to arriving to King's Cross. The trip had not been a particularly quiet one, but as they reached their destination the tension in the air was becoming more and more palpable.
They usually spent Easter week at Hogwarts, since it was a period filled with homework and exams, but this time Greg and Mycroft had decided to make a better use of their holidays. They were first headed to Gregory's, where his mother and sisters would be waiting to officially meet Mycroft as Greg's boyfriend. Mycroft's stomach churned at the mere thought. He had met Gregory's family before, of course, he had even visited their house in muggle London -much to his own parents' dismay- but this was a complete different affair. However, he pondered, it would certainly be better than what they had planned for the rest of the trip. On the last days of their holiday, they would be staying at the Holmes family state. Now, that was an especially terrifying situation for both Greg and Mycroft. The Holmes weren't bad people, all in all, but they had been described as 'nutters' before –Anthea's words-. Mycroft preferred to describe them as perfectionists; they would always find something to be disappointed about, and if this time it was Mycroft's choice of partner, it wouldn't be surprising to him in the least. It probably wouldn't be the best Easter holiday of their lives, but it was something that certainly had to be done sooner or later.
The train hit the station faster than they had expected, but neither of them was on a hurry to get off the train. They waited for the small crowd to get off before gathering their bags and doing the same thing themselves. As soon as they got out the platform, Mycroft spotted Greg's family.
-Oh, your sister's there.
Both Greg's sisters looked very much like him; even someone who hadn't met them before would have guessed the three were related just by looking at their identically shaped brown eyes and heads full of rebellious dark hair. His mother, on the other hand, was of a fairer complexion, and one could only tell her relation to her children by the very particular shape of her nose. Or at least Mycroft could.
Suddenly, the three spotted them, and Mycroft unconsciously stood his straightest possible. Greg smiled and mouthed a silent 'relax' to him as he waved to his family.
-Gregory, darling! Oh, I'm so glad we came early, that train of yours arrived before schedule. Erica said it would, didn't you darling? She noticed it usually does.
Greg's sisters were both older than him; Erica by three years, Josie just by one. Mycroft reckoned that if it weren't for a slight difference in height between them, they could have easily passed as triplets.
-And Mycroft! Oh my God, dear, how you've grown!
Mycroft felt himself wrapped in an immobilizing hug that sent the Lestrade children into a fit of giggles.
-Let go off him mother, you're gonna scare him more than he already is. Hi Mycroft.
Erica waved at him from behind her mother's back, who had not completely ignored her comment and had let go of Mycroft, but was still holding both his hands in hers. He smiled back at Erica.
-Evening, Mrs. Lestrade, Erica. Hello Josie.
-Hi Mycroft.
Josie was still trying to control her laughter and was elbowed ever slightly by her younger brother.
-You boys must be starving, am I right? Come on, let's go home. Dinner's almost done; just have to pop it into the oven.
It was always strange for Mycroft to be out on the muggle world. He blended in quite well, of course; he was certainly aware of most costumes and rules, but still he had to learn something new every time he was there. He kept staring out of the car window for most of the ride –not too much, he wouldn't forget to engage in conversation- quite frankly astonished by the innovations he would spot in every block.
The Lestrade's place looked cozy as usual, and just about half an hour after their arrival, dinner was already served. Mycroft remembered having eaten at Greg's place, and he would have never forgotten how good of a cook his mother was, but that evening he was able to manage a considerable degree of self restraint and kept his portions small.
-Oh, you barely touched your food. Weren't you hungry, Mycroft dear? Was there anything you didn't like?
Greg's mother sounded terribly disappointed at Mycroft's apparent lack of interest in her food.
-No, not at all! Everything was delicious. I was just… saving room for dessert. Greg told me your blancmange was unbelievable. Your specialty, if I recall correctly.
Mycroft thought he saw a bit of pink on her cheeks.
-Oh, darling! He did?
-I did?
She sounded completely ecstatic. Greg sounded very confused.
-How did you know we would be having blancmange, Gregy?
Mycroft suddenly realized that no one had mentioned the dessert before; he had just gathered it would be blancmange from the various ingredients spattered around in the kitchen.
-I… didn't. I was only hoping we would.
Mycroft squeezed his hand as a thank you under the table as they shared a look.
Soon dessert was served and Mycroft couldn't actually believe Greg hadn't actually said it was his mother specialty. He had two servings, so as not to disappoint Mrs. Lestrade.
As the conversation turned to exams and school in general, and soon after to Quidditch, Mycroft couldn't help it but feel horribly silly for having been nervous before. He knew Greg's family would be lovely, as usual; he had worked himself up over nothing at all.
-Mycroft, sweetheart, would you like something in particular for breakfast?
The question caught him off guard, as Greg and his sisters were still enthralled in their conversation about the Hogwarts' Quidditch teams.
-Oh. No, not really, thank you. Just whatever everyone else is having will be perfectly fine.
He had been absolutely honest too; nothing she could cook could ever displease him in the least.
-Oh, don't be shy, dear. Greg has told me about that dreadful diet of yours, but in my house we don't worry about such things. I'm sure you can drop the extra weight when you go back to school.
From the corner of his eye, Mycroft saw Greg's eyes grow like platters at his mother's comment. He felt a tinge of shame at his weight having been brought into attention in front of the whole table, but he was able to fight away the blush threatening to redden his cheeks and pull himself together.
-I'm not really dieting anymore, so I can have whichever delicious treats you choose to send my way.
His smile at the thought of a tasty homemade breakfast made by Mrs. Lestrade was quite honest too.
-Oh, that's wonderful! Why hadn't you told me anything, Greg?
Gregory had not quite managed to keep his embarrassment at bay and was covering half of his face with his right hand.
-That's his business, mum…
-Well, I think it's lovely, Mycroft dear, I'll will make you a nice breakfast tomorrow.
Mycroft gave his boyfriend a cheeky smile as his mother walked into the kitchen with a pile of empty plates.