Christmas had a new meaning since Josephine's passing, and try as he might to weasel out of family obligations to mope about his empty study, Thaddeus was never so lucky. It was even harder, perhaps, because his siblings insisted on inviting him to their holiday functions, and nothing sounded more boring than being trapped in a multi-course dinner with his stodgy elder brothers and their hellion children.

A sharp object to the eye would be more pleasant, Thaddeus groused silently, already dreading the fact that they would try to matchmake them to some fresh-faced debutante. If not now, then soon -- his mother was a horrible old biddy, and Thaddeus knew it was only a matter of time...

Perhaps it isn't too late to wall myself in for the holiday season... Claim sickness, perhaps? It was in the midst of his plotting that a yelp broke through Thaddeus's reverie. When he saw the collapsed gentlemen, he rushed right over, dropping his own paper-wrapped parcels beside the fallen figure. "Merlin's beard, are you quite alright?" Thaddeus frowned down at Everett, blue eyes flicking inscrutably over his shabbier clothing and lingering for a second on the thin scar that bisected his upper lip.

Shaking his head, he extended a gloved hand down to Everett, offering a hand up. "You'll be lucky if you didn't crack anything," Thaddeus pointed out, expression pinched with concern. "I ought to take you to Hogsmeade Hospital, just in case."