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Toes wrapped in gingerbread house socks prodded Harry’s leg as he sat on the sofa enjoying a mug of tea. Placing his cup on the side table, he looked over at his teenage daughter.
"Wouldn't it be nice to do a Christmas like that, Dad?" Her eyes shone with the reflected lights of the Christmas tree as she gestured toward the television.
He glanced back at the telly as a woman with red hair tied up in a scarf made Christmas centrepieces and place settings for Christmas dinner. Giggles filtered from upstairs where Hermione was likely reading their three year old son, Rowan, a bedtime story.
"Which part, Leonora? The crafty details, or the countryside?"
"Don't be silly," she huffed, sounding much like her mother did during their Hogwarts days. "I mean all of it, of course. France, a chateau, the handmade details, just everything."
Harry’s brows furrowed. "I don't know. It just doesn't have the same ring to it as a refurbished medieval fort in Snowdonia, where our ancestors lived, and we have about a fifty percent chance at having a white Christmas."
"But, Dad, that's where we live." She gestured around the room.
"I thought you liked history."
"I do, but not all history is so, so," she trailed off.
"So... what?" He knew he shouldn't egg her on, but Leonora always took herself so seriously. It had only gotten worse when she entered her teens. Besides, it was almost as fun as winding Hermione up had been when they were kids.
"So old."
"You don't say." Harry deadpanned as he reached for his tea. He didn't really want to keep the act up too long. Hearing Leonora's ideas for a different kind of Christmas was more interesting.
Leonora blinked a couple of times before her brow wrinkled. "Wait, what?"
"Well," he said, adopting a tone and manner reminiscent of one Gilderoy Lockhart, "speaking as someone who was written of in history textbooks as an infant, and someone whom you currently learn about at school, in History, no less--"
"Oh my gosh, Dad," Leonora groaned, tossing a throw cushion at his head. "I can't believe you just said that."
Harry sipped his tea and snatched the pillow from the air with his free hand. "Neither can I. Forgive me?"
"What have you done now, love?" Hermione asked as she walked into the lounge.
"Dad was impersonating that teacher Uncle Ron said you used to make heart eyes at."
Hermione groaned. "Why in the world?"
Harry laughed. "Someone thought I needed to learn that not all history is ancient history." He caught Leonora's toes as she tried to poke him in the ribs.
"Actually," Leonora wrestled her foot from her dad's grasp, and sat up straight, "I was telling Dad we should have Christmas at a French chateau."
Hermione eyed their fifteen year old. "For this Christmas? As in, the Christmas that is in four days? That Christmas?"
"That's the one."
"That isn't enough time to plan travel, darling. You have to apply for international portkeys at least a week in advance this time of year," Hermione said.
"Also, I don't know if you were aware but Chateaux don't exactly grow on trees," Harry said with a grin, making his wife and daughter both roll their eyes at him. "Fine, I can be serious. We don't have a chateau, and trying to find one to rent for Christmas will probably be difficult so close to the day."
Leonora's eyes started sparkling. "Oh, we don't need to rent a chateau."
"We don't already own a chateau," said Hermione. "So without renting one, how else would we get to stay at one?"
"We can borrow one," Leonora explained as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "Scorpius and I already asked his parents, and they agreed. They even arranged portkeys for us both ways."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose while Harry ran a hand through his hair. Looking at their daughter he said, "Wait… you had Scorpius ask his parents before you talked about Christmas with us?"
"Just how long have you been planning this, Leonora?" Hermione asked.
"Since this episode," Leonora said, pointing at the telly, "broadcast last Christmas. Mr. Malfoy was on board before I even asked at the first Hogsmeade visit this term. He said something about finally having a chance at making gains on your old wager. I don't know all the details - just something about a friendly horse race on the beach Boxing Day... I might have stopped paying attention after he said, 'Yes.'"
~*~*~
Three days later, Christmas preparations were in full swing at the Malfoy chateau just outside of Saint-Tropez. Leonora was in a crafting frenzy, trying to make some of the projects that she loved from that holiday special. Harry had their younger child, Rowan, out on the grounds with a toy broom, trying to wear him out so he would take an early afternoon nap. They were hoping he'd go down easily and sleep for a couple of hours so he would stay awake for when le Pere Noel arrived in his boat at the port. Taking advantage of a much needed bit of quiet time, Hermione walked to the chateau's orangery with an insulated mug of coffee, at the suggestion of the chateau elves.
Settling on a bench among the trees, Hermione enjoyed the warmth from the nearby wood burning stove. As she sipped her coffee - a cappuccino if she had to guess - she closed her eyes and basked in the light. Breathing in the tang of citrus that hung in the air, she reflected on the whirlwind of the past few days.
Traveling with a teenager and a toddler had been an adventure, which was part of why they hadn't done much traveling as a family since Rowan was born. But Leonora had already done all of her packing and some of Rowan's before breakfast was ready the morning after their chat. All that was left for Harry and Hermione to pack themselves, and notify their respective offices that neither of them would be available on a call-in basis until after they returned to the country.
It was a gorgeous place for a holiday. And despite the warm weather, they still had no troubles finding some Christmas spirit with the help of a handful of chateau elves who helped them decorate. And the elves were so excited to have a small child to help care for during the holidays - they'd even let Rowan help them bake a Bûche de Noël just yesterday.
A shout followed by a shrieking giggle drew her attention back outside. Standing from her perch, she walked across the orangery and looked over the lawn. A weary looking Harry was chasing Rowan around the manicured grass. At this rate, Harry would need a nap himself before they meant to go into Saint-Tropez in the late afternoon.
Hermione chuckled as she gathered up her mug and went to rescue her husband from their energetic toddler.