"I'll take a new jounral for Christmas," Clementine piped in, "in case it needed saying."

It most certainly did not. She had been writing down just about everything for as long as she could remember, and without fail, a journal always appeared under the tree for her. True, it had used to be her father who gifted her a blank volume every year, but last year Verity had taken over the tradition, for which Clementine had been grateful indeed.

"And Ford shall have what, a new tophat? Gloves? A fine set of quills?" She was quite decidedly fishing. Where her brothers were concerned, Christmas shopping was something of a challenge. "A pretty heiress to cement your status as head of the household?" the Hufflepuff added, now plainly teasing. Ford was far too young to fuss with a wife any time soon!