19 December 1890 — High Street

Final exams were finally over, and Adrienne felt she could finally breathe again. Though not one to get completely stressed out about exams, as she progressed through the years at Hogwarts, the toughness of exams (not to mention the homework) seemed to be exponential, so much so that the young witch's excitement for going home seemed to be greater than in the past. Perhaps it was the promise of little to no homework (aside from the animagus studies that she'd committed herself to), or being able to spend her days outside with Aristide.

Unfortunately, those festivities would have to wait another day. There were more pressing matters that demanded her attention such as getting Christmas presents for her many family relatives. Adrienne felt there was nothing to do but get it over with whilst she was still in the mood for work.

It only took walking into her uncle's study and smiling charmingly to convince him to bring her Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade. She'd have normally gone to Diagon Alley, but it was too similar to getting school books and supplies. After flooing to Hogsmeade, Adrienne stepped out onto the wet pavement, ducking her nose into her wool scarf and shivering. "I think I'd have rather preferred it to be snowing," she commented as she looked down the street. "At least then I'd feel more in the Christmas spirit, wouldn't you Uncle?" She glanced up at him, only her eyes visible over her scarf.

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Not everyone in the household could have expected the same reaction as Adrienne, waltzing in with whatever new request they might dream up on the weekends. The twins, though? If one were to make a ranking of favourites in the house (though that was not something parents should do, so he should not admit to having one, even in his head) they had better chances than most of his children of being granted it. Particularly when they had been off at Hogwarts all term, and Trystan had scarcely seen them since summer; and even if he had no desire to go shopping for Christmas gifts, he was always pleased to spend time with his niece or nephew.

Unlike the children with their Hogsmeade visits, Trystan, since his schooldays, had found himself visiting the High Street of Hogsmeade far more rarely than he tended to stop by Diagon Alley on the way to or fro from the Ministry or the Leaky Cauldron. So this outing had a certain charm to it, a sprinkle of novelty to it - if the streets had not been worse slush in the wetness than London, and today’s wind chill had not been biting at his nose and cheeks. 

A soft fall of snow would have been much kindlier an atmosphere than this damp coldness; it was barely worth putting up an umbrella, for the wind was worse than anything. “Probably,” Trystan agreed with a serious nod, but trying to suppress his smile at just how wrapped-up Adrienne was in her scarf; her head was in danger of being swallowed by it. “Perhaps it will start in an hour or so,” he said optimistically, although with their luck it would more likely be tomorrow. Not that he cared, particularly, besides that Adrienne would be  pleased. “I’m sure Hogsmeade never looks more picturesque than with a nice dusting of snow,” he said, cocking his head to hark back to the times in years before that he had seen the village and its assortment of crooked chimneys blanketed by white. “Like icing on a cake,” he remarked with a chuckle. “Or Annecy in winter.” All he remembered of the town in which the twins had spent their childhood, nestled by the French alps, was unquestionably quaint, as much as this village was in the Scottish highlands. Which was not to say the rolling Welsh countryside and Selwyn Manor were any worse off in winter, but he fancied he knew of which Adrienne was still fondest.

“I suppose they’ve done well with the decorations, to get you in the festive spirit,” he pointed out, as they passed wreathed doors and candlelit windows, sprigs of holly and a waft of cinnamon from somewhere. “But better step in somewhere, before we freeze,” Trystan continued with a laugh, more for her sake than this; his nose might be cold, but otherwise he ran warm-blooded. Still, he glanced at the nearest shops. “Whose gift do you mean to get first?”

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The young witch raised her eyebrows slightly in anticipation at the thought of snow in due time. She glanced skywards again as if wishing would add to the likelihood of such an occasion. Having experienced both Hogsmeade and Annecy in December, this was a situation where Adrienne had to favor England before France (something she never would have admitted at the beginning of her stay).

Hogsmeade was rather lovely covered in a blanket of snow, whereas Annecy, while still beautiful, maintained a thinner dusting. Overall, had she known of her uncle's presumptions as to which she favored, she would likely have agreed with him. Hogwarts after a few years had grown on her, in addition to her extended family. She would always consider Annecy her home, but Hogwarts and by extension England had earned her affections.

"I agree," Adrienne said, smiling at the wreaths on doors and pine garlands hung over the rooftops. "I might fancy a spot of peppermint hot chocolate later." While she still considered this work, the theme of Christmas did a lot to ease the sense of responsibility to find the perfect gift. Fishing out her list from her pocket, Adrienne peeked over her scarf down at her scrawling handwriting.

Realizing this was within eyeshot of her uncle, she quickly attempted to maneuver herself so she was facing him and the list wasn't in plain sight. The ground was more slippery than she thought, however, and she had to reach out to seize his arm all the same to prevent from face planting into a nearby potted plant.

Hoping he didn't see her list, Adrienne pursed her lips in thought. "I'll get Aunt Ambrosia's first," She said, with a tone of eagerness in her voice. As thanks to her aunt for her extra coaching in becoming an Animagus, Adrienne had spotted the most beautiful leatherbound journal and quill set that she was sure her aunt would have use of. With the new year, perhaps she would use it as her new ledger?

"What gifts do you still have to get?"

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He smiled indulgently at the mention of peppermint hot chocolate. “The snow might be a let-down, but I’m sure that can be arranged,” he said easily. He wouldn’t mind putting his feet up and finding a mulled wine or an eggnog in a while. But first - to business.

And wasn’t she organised? Trystan widened his eyes as she produced the list, exaggeratedly impressed - that was, until she nearly slipped over on a patch of slush or ice. “Careful, there,” he murmured as she clutched at him, or the first gift she got this season would be a nasty black eye or sprained ankle.

It took all he had not to deflate at Adrienne’s answer of who was next on her list. He ought to have crossed his fingers before asking; he’d been hoping it was someone fun to buy for in the family, like Aristide - although he wouldn’t put it past the twins to instinctively guess what they had bought for each other as though by some kind of strange telepathy. But of course she had lit up like that about Ambrosia. Clearly she already had ideas on that list of hers.

Trystan found trying to buy gifts for his wife nearly as impossible an endeavour as it had been in when they’d scarcely known each other. By now he had learned that ‘dissatisfied’ was her default state, and so she was exceptionally hard to please, mostly because giving her gifts usually felt like some part of paying penance for his mistakes. Although that was less a general dilemma, and more a Trystan-had-created-that-problem-for-himself sort of thing. Adrienne’s gift for her would probably be deemed delightful, whatever it was.

“Oh, just a few,” Trystan said, tapping the side of his nose conspiratorially, as if he had the faintest idea what he was doing. Every Christmas seemed to come around faster, and never mind birthdays! “Which shop do you need for her? I ought to find something for Anthea while we’re at it.”

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The tap on his nose saw Adrienne's eyes narrow slightly in curiosity, but only momentarily, for she was distracted by his next question. She looked in the direction of Scrivenshaft's - the last place she'd seen the beautiful quill set. While she was excited, there was slight trepidation. It was during her last trip to Hogsmeade that she'd seen it and that was quite some time ago. "I hope it's still there," she said as she led the way toward the small shop. "I know those things can go quickly, but I suppose that I shouldn't be too pessimistic."

As the shop doors opened, they were met with a gust of warm air; another aspect of the winter holidays that she always enjoyed. It always made her rather warm, so she started unraveling the large scarf wrapped around her head. One quick look about and Adrienne saw the display — "Oh." — empty. Disappointment dropped into her stomach and she sighed. She supposed that was to be expected with the holidays. And technically Christmas was less than a week away, which would place their shopping expedition firmly into the "last minute" category.

"It's not there." She looked to her uncle, crestfallen, before glancing around to other displays to see if they had anything similar. "What were you getting for Anthea?" she asked in an attempt to distract herself from the mounting uncertainty of her gift for her aunt.

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Scrivenshaft’s it was, although fairly soon after entering it sounded as though Adrienne’s worries had been made manifest: whatever she had been looking for was not there.

“I thought to get her a new wizard’s chess set,” Trystan said absently, in answer of her question about Anthea. He was sure his supposed sister’s last set had recently been missing a bishop - and he had a horrible feeling [Hephaestus] had borrowed the piece, or accidentally thrown it in the fire. “But I fancy she might like some of the things in here, too,” he said brightly, trying to cheer her in turn by this distraction, as he experimentally unfurled a sample piece of parchment with a quick-quotes quill. Trystan might find stationery shops a comparatively dull sight, but Anthea was as likely to be need of inks and journals as much as anyone in the family.

But there still remained the question of Ambrosia. “Where was your gift meant to be?” he inquired, squeezing her shoulder and peering into the display cases. “I can ask the shop assistant if he has another in the storeroom, or see if he can’t order another,” he said smoothly, no stranger to asking for things he wanted and sure he could manage to pull a few strings if asking politely did not do it, for it appeared that Adrienne had had her heart set upon it, poor thing. “Unless you want to get your aunt one of these instead,” he joked, plucking up one of the rather flamboyant peacock-feather quills and swatting her cheek teasingly with it. (He wasn’t certain Ambrosia would particularly appreciate peacock-related mockery, but it was an amusing thought nonetheless.)

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Anthea would like a wizard's chess set. The older witch had smarts that Adrienne herself could only dream of one day. Immediately, Adrienne envisioned a beautiful obsidian and gold chess set that she had seen in a store on a trip to Hogsmeade one weekend. The downside would be that, like Ambrosia's former present, it might already be taken.

The witch kept looking around as she responded. "It was a leatherbound journal and quill set." The journal was a beautiful dark red with suede on the inside of the jacket and a leather strap that would only open for the owner. The quill was a series of grand eagle feathers that would look particularly handsome when paired with the already beautiful desk and chair set that sat in her aunt's office. "I thought she might like a new journal to keep the accounts."

The only qualm Adrienne had about ordering a new set was potentially not receiving the gift set on time. It wouldn't sit well with her to have to tell Ambrosia her present was on the way when everyone else had their presents on time. Fancy that, being the only one in the room to not present her aunt with anything, especially after how generous Ambrosia had been about lending Adrienne her animagus books and answering the occasional question.

Her train of thought (well, nightmare, really) was interrupted by the tickle of a peacock feather on her nose, and she jumped slightly, laughing when she realized what her uncle had batted her with. Even she couldn't help but imagine what her aunt's reaction would be to receiving a peacock quill as a Christmas present. While certainly pertaining to the genre of discussions she and Adrienne had in more recent months, the young witch thought it to be perhaps a bit too on the nose. Best to not press her luck.

"You can get her that," she joked, her uncle's mischievous expression reflected in her own face. "Whilst I run and hide from any switch she might throw in our direction." Truth be told, that scenario was not entirely out of the realm of possibility in the Selwyn household.

"I suppose we should ask if they have it," she said, returning to the more pressing matter at hand. "I should hate to not exhaust all my options before fretting over finding another ideal gift."

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“Yes, thank you for that advice,” Trystan returned, feigning outrage as if he had taken her joke as serious advice. Of course, how she had followed it up made it quite clear she had anticipated how Ambrosia would take it. “I’d rather save my skin too, I think.”

Adrienne’s idea for the gift was a tasteful one, to be sure. Not quite so earth-shattering that Adrienne should lose any sleep over it, he considered privately, but best not frame it quite like that. He called over the shop assistant to check for it, and then glanced back at Adrienne.

“Though you ought not fret about anything,” Trystan put in, with faux sternness, as if her fretting meant he was not doing his duty properly; duty as... an uncle. If he showed the twins any favouritism, he supposed one could cast it off as their being his niece and nephew, an extra veneer of politeness extended to the extended family that his other children may not so often receive. “And really your aunt has far too many possessions already.” A joke, only. She could have whatever she wanted to amuse herself, as long as it steered her clear of sourness.

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Adrienne couldn't decide if the sudden image of her aunt threatening them both was terrifying or hilarious, but nonetheless, a giggle escaped from her as she thought of the possibilities. Still, it would be best to avoid any sort of conflict — after all, they were all stuck with each other over the holidays, so shouldn't they try to make it a happy affair?

The feather on her hat bobbed as she looked about for the shop-keep and fiddled with the buttons on her gloves. In truth, she did fret about it; she'd so looked forward to paying her aunt back in some way for helping her with animagus studies, but she didn't want to tell her uncle about that either on the slim chance that perhaps he either didn't know or wouldn't think it appropriate for someone so young.

As she was mulling over what to tell her uncle, the shop hand appeared at his shoulder with the very set she'd cast her hopes upon. With a little bounce of glee and clap of her hands, she rushed as quickly as she could to pay for it as if it would disappear as soon as it was set on the counter.

"But it's Christmas," she explained, now fishing in her pockets to find her coin purse. "And I would say we all deserve a special treat now and then, wouldn't you?" She gave him a brilliant smile, if not perhaps a bit mischievous as she put the proper payment on the counter.

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Well, there she was, no need to fuss about Ambrosia’s gift any longer. Thankfully, Trystan thought privately, because although he enjoyed his daughter’s company it was rather a waste to spend all that time labouring after something for his wife.

“True enough,” he said in pretended surrender, rolling his eyes but then smiling as the shop assistant handed over the journal set she’d been looking for. “Perhaps it’s already time for that peppermint hot chocolate then?” He teased, of the treat she had pointed out earlier. (Trystan had never been the sort for patience and delayed gratification and all that; play first and work later usually worked well enough.) “And then you can tell me what else you’ve been hoping to get for Christmas, hm?”

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Mmmm, peppermint hot chocolate.

Adrienne felt a smile come to her lips as she accepted the now newly wrapped parcel that was Aunt Ambrosia's Christmas gift before turning back to her uncle. "That sounds lovely!" she chirped, now in a considerably better mood.

As for what she wanted for Christmas... "I need to get Aristide that new lyre, perhaps we could see what else they have there that might give you some ideas." What she wanted, in reality, was a new bow, however, those came at quite a cost. Perhaps she would bring them around to the shop to give him a not-so-subtle hint.

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