December 23rd, 1884 — Hawthorne Hollow

There had been just enough snow in the past few days to cement that there would, in fact, be a sleigh ride at the Ministry-organized ‘winter wonderland’ in Irvingly. If she was honest, Dezzie had actually been quite looking forward to it; she didn’t often get to see horses (normal muggle ones), and Christmas had always been her favourite time of year.

She had arrived in the square with her two younger siblings in tow; her mother, fortunately, had caught a cold and did not feel up to it. While Perpetua was excellent as parents went, she had become rather overbearing (understandably so) since Huxley’s death that summer. Dezzie missed her father dearly, but never more than when her mother found a new project to obsess over.

Naturally, the sleighs she had been so looking forward to were in high demand: all of the larger ones had already departed and were not expected back for some time. With only minor reluctance, she insisted Cressida and Florizel take one of the two-person sleighs; she would, Dezzie assured them, be quite fine in the interim. It was a decision the chaser would quickly decide was for the better: she discovered Mr. Pettigrew by the massive Christmas tree not long after.

Without even realizing she was doing it, Dezzie’s hands moved to verify that her chocolate curls were sufficiently pinned back (if anyone questioned her on it later she would insist it was just because she didn’t often go out and about when it didn’t involve quidditch), as she moved to greet him.

“Mr. Pettigrew!” she offered brightly. “What a pleasure it is to see you without a broom in hand—not that there is anything wrong with a broom, of course,” the brunette amended quickly, “but I so seldom see you socially that it seems almost shocking.”

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

Arthur wasn't sure if he liked the hot cocoa or the ridiculously large Christmas tree more. He cupped his drink in gloved hands as he tilted his head back to take in the tree in its entirety; it had to be grown by magic, it was just so big.

He didn't know what he wanted to do.

He had come here because he had nothing better to do, two days before Christmas - he wasn't actually sure that he would have anything to do on Christmas itself, so that wasn't much of a question, really. He had been going to practically every event he could, lately - even dueling for the first time in ages, just for the sake of finding something to do with himself.

But the Ministry had really pulled out all the stops on this; he was sure he would find something, and that he would be able to avoid the casino he hadn't actually been to in months.

Art took a sip of his drink and reflected that he could probably quite happily stare at this massive tree for the next couple of hours.

He heard his name and spun, face lighting up into a broad grin when he saw his friend and teammate.

"Miss Collins-Potter!" Art said brightly, "No broom, no upcoming game to worry about - nothing at all to do with Quidditch."

Which was, you know, odd. But good - it was always good to see her, especially since Art had not quite found a way to thank her for writing him when he had been in prison, and her letters had always been a relief.

---

  

She had not lied when she said that seeing Mr. Pettigrew removed from quidditch was odd: when the season had been canceled, he had been so desperate to stay involved with broom sports that he had gotten himself thrown in prison for playing illegal sports. That, unfortunately, was the only non-quidditchy thing she knew of him, save that he didn’t get on with his family (excepting his mother, who Dezzie was not acquainted with). What did he even do in his spare time when there were no holiday events to occupy him? She was quite sure he did not attempt needlepoint as he did.

(She had actually gotten rather good, and had even produced a passable handkerchief with a broomstick in the corner, but damned if she would ever actually give it to him; it was not exactly the team culture, to give holiday gifts.)

“And yet you’re still in Irvingly?” she asked. “I confess, I don’t think I should often leave Hogsmeade if I lived there—to have everything one needs in so condensed a space must be horribly convenient, not like London where you have to journey half a mile just to find our sort!”

The city was not an ideal place for someone as thoughtful/anxious about day-to-day life as Desdemona

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

Arthur laughed.

"It is nice to be in Hogsmeade," he admitted, "But we don't have a setup like this back there!" He waved his free hand at the tree, still pretty excited just that it existed.

Last year he had run into Miss Collins-Potter in Irvingly at around this same time; he didn't think that they had any similar ball-ish set up this year, which was sort of disappointing just because dancing with her had been fun.

"No real space for horses in Hogsmeade, either," he added. The sleighs were almost as impressive to him as the tree was, just because he almost never actually saw horses - they weren't exactly practical in Hogsmeade, so.

---

The following 1 user Likes Arthur Pettigrew's post:1 user Likes Arthur Pettigrew's post
   Desdemona Pettigrew

“The sleighs are quite nice, aren’t they?” Dezzie agreed, casting an almost wistful glance in their direction. While foregoing a sleigh ride was not quite so disappointing with Mr. Pettigrew’s company, she had looked forward to it—and besides, she could not impose on him forever.

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

Art looked where she looked and then back at her, smiling almost mischievously now. "Do you want to go on one?" he asked. He wasn't quite sure where the bounds of propriety / Quidditch buddies! / friends had them placed, but he also wasn't sure how much he ultimately cared, so he supposed that he might as well inquire.

---

  

No.

It was not a good idea.

While she enjoyed Mr. Pettigrew’s company immensely (perhaps too much), Desdemona did not think it was wholly proper to be alone with him in a sleigh, even with a driver there as a sort of ersatz chaperone. Though it was true that their professional relationship did allow for a bit more time spent acceptably together, being alone together in this fashion was a bit too intimate for her propriety’s taste.

And even had it not been, the memory of the summer—the last time they had been properly alone—and it’s awkward limb-flailing reaffirmed that this was A Very Bad Idea.

“I confess, the sleighs are much of the reason I came, though they only had the small ones left so I sent my siblings on without me,” Dezzie’s treacherous tongue replied, defying all logic. Knowing it was far too late to actually retract the statement gracefully, the chaser did her best to settle an innocent expression on her face, that Mr. Pettigrew might believe her to be answering his question in the literal sense rather than in the invitational sense.

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

"Oh!" Arthur chirped, "They did seem to be pretty popular, from what I saw."

Arthur could not decide if she was trying to avoid answering the question (valid) or if she hadn't understood his point; he also wasn't sure what to do to figure it out.

Maybe he could work his way around to it?

That seemed like it was a good idea. Especially since he fell into being awkward far too easy around her, even though they were friends - the summer's incident flashed into his mind as particularly dire.

Or he could try maneuvering them towards the sleighs and see what happened?

That idea was helped that the tree itself wasn't exactly uncrowded; Arthur had to sidestep towards them to dodge a racing child who had decided to tie their scarf from Father Christmas around their head.

---

  

Fate, it seemed, had other ideas: though Mr. Pettigrew, mercifully, did not try to press the matter—Dezzie was quite sure she would not hold out long if he did—the crowd itself seemed keen to inch the pair closer and closer to the destination in question.

“Very popular indeed,” she replied after quickly recovering from the near-miss with a small child. “In fact , the pair ahead of us in line were gearing up for their third go-round, which is, I suspect, quite the review.”

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

"That is impressive," Art said with a genuine grin. He didn't know what was with this crowd and the tree - okay yes he did, he was infatuated with the thing too - but supposed that it might end up working out for them.

Of course, he would rather people be just a bit more quiet. The sound of someone shouting shrilly for no good reason - (possibly a child, which was reason in and of itself) - had Arthur cringing. He took a step towards Dezzie on automatic.

(As much as he had been attracted to chaos and noise since leaving prison, there were some sounds that hit a tad too close to home. He was half-sure that the sound of a grown man crying would send him into a flying rage, or at least into sarcasm.)

---

  

“Yes, I think it would be quite silly not to have a go at some point this afternoon,” she agreed without thinking, realizing even as she said it that she had voiced the opinion she had been actively trying not to voice. Plainly she should ask Father Christmas for some sense this year.

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

Art grinned. "We could go," he said, mostly impulsively though honestly that had been what he was hoping for, "If you want to, I mean."

---

  

---

set by MJ <3

She wanted to. It had, after all, been one of the key forces that brought her here today, the notion of a sleigh ride through the forest—something from a Christmas carol or some storybook, to be sure! The weather was decidedly very fine for it and the notion of gliding sleekly through the (rather light, but still present!) covering of snow sounded, to her, akin to gliding through the air on her broomstick.

And that didn’t even take into account the fact that it was Mr. Pettigrew asking.

As horribly embarrassing as it was to admit it, the notion of such privacy with him sent her into something of a tizzy. Already, their friendship had evolved past that which the team bond necessitated. He had gone to prison—a bit of a sore spot with her; Dezzie hoped it would not be repeated—and she had worried for him daily. He had been released and she still worried daily, as she could no longer trust him not to make an utter mess of his life. But the fact of the matter was, she was now actively interested in whether or not he was making a mess of his life, and that frightened her more than the knowledge that he might accidentally kill himself because of his own idiocy someday.

“I’d like that very much,” she replied bashfully, brown eyes darting up to meet his own for only half a second before pointedly looking at the crowd instead. Merlin, this was a terrible idea. He was so friendly and she was making it so she could scarcely talk to him about anything more than the weather and league rankings!

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

Excellent. Arthur was immediately and genuinely gladdened - it was rare that he got to spend time with Miss Collins-Potter off the pitch, even though he rarely actually thought about it that way. He had exchanged letters with her when he had had the plague; she had sent her sister in to ensure he was not on death's door; he still did not think that he had ever met her like this, in a (mostly) Quidditch-free context.

A sled ride would certainly be different; he was, actually, rather excited.

"Let's go, then," Art said brightly, setting off at a mostly-leisurely pace. The line for the sleds at least seemed to be moving quickly enough, and he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as they waited their turn.

---

  

---

set by MJ <3

The brief time spent in line was spent, by and large, trying not to talk herself out of climbing into the sleigh. Fortunately(?), it was not long before the pair was off and Dezzie’s only reasonable method of escape would have been to physically leap from the vehicle and to the cold ground.

Even had she not been with Mr. Pettigrew, Desdemona suspected she would have had something of an idiotic grin on her face. The large (but normal) horses pulled the sleigh down the path with a smoothness and ease that rivaled that of a broomstick—the fact that it required no alertness from her was a bonus—and the bells laced to their harnesses gave a very pleasant jingle with each footfall. It was an entirely novel experience, and the witch decided she enjoyed it very much indeed.

Then there was the company.

The size of the sleigh meant that the pair had to sit very close together indeed, and even through the sleeves of her dress, the woolen cloak she wore, and his own clothing, Dezzie felt as if she could feel each hair on his arm as it remained pressed against her own out of necessity—it was that or drape their limbs atop one another, which was hardly appropriate!

“Do you think he hears much in the way of gossip?” Dezzie leaned in slightly to ask her captain at low volume, one gloved hand gesturing to the sleigh…driver. (was that the term?) “I mean, I’m sure some people talk about all sorts when they don’t really remember he’s a person; I know my mother makes that mistake with our cook sometimes.”

Fortunately, they hadn’t been reared wealthy enough to have an overabundance of staff—a cook and a maid, and a gardener every Wednesday—and so Dezzie herself had not made that same oversight.

---

  

---

— graphics by mj ❤ —

This was the closest they had been since he had caught her, and they had already been pressed together for longer than that. He could have kissed her with only minimum movement. This was an incredibly distracting thought and Arthur was relieved when she leaned in to speak - maybe if he managed to involve himself in the conversation he'd manage to stop thinking about the curl of her hair against her forehead, about the curve of her smile.

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Arthur said, leaning in to whisper, "I mean, sometimes when I was second-string the first-string players would talk as if we weren't there - it must be worse when you're not even on the same team."

Leaning in was ill-advised, perhaps - but there was no other way to talk to her, and besides, they were friends and they were here.

"I'm not sure if I made the same mistake when I was a child or if I was just a loud little brat," Arthur added. It was probably, he thought, a mix of both - he had, of course, fallen off of the roof once.

---

  

---

set by MJ <3