Toujours Pur | Euphemia Black

Chapter 42 | Merry Christmas Euphemia

Trigger warning: There will be violent scenes in this chapter that might upset readers. You have been warned.

The local mail-boy in the Highlands of Scotland ran through the rain as it poured down in buckets on top of the Scottish villagers.

It was Christmas Eve of 1950 but the typical British weather had not been considerate of the hopes that people held about a possible white Christmas.

Instead, it decided to absolutely hammer it down with rain that flooded the country lanes and made everyone run inside for cover, umbrellas waving in the air as they were billeted by the wind.

The poor Muggle mail-boy had to carry on with his job, despite his little uniform being soaked to his skin and his hair dripping droplets of water down his face.

His satchel, which was full of letters and packages that were somehow managing to stay relatively dry, had turned a darker brown colour than it had been previously, due to the downfall of water.

With trembling cold and damp fingers, the young boy posted a few letters through the letterbox of a nearby cottage, nearly trapping his fingers and cursing as he splashed in the puddles residing on that particular driveway.

It wasn't even his actual job - his uncle was the normal postman but he had decided to let his nephew take the Sunday afternoon shift out of the kindness of his heart, simply because he didn't want to go out in the miserable weather that so often frequented the Scottish highlands.

"Just one more and then I'm done," Dougal McGregor muttered underneath his breath as he braced himself for the downpour of rain again, ducking from underneath one of the old bus shelters that he had hidden under for a while.

He smiled when he saw the name addressed on the envelope, the appearance of the letter in his satchel must mean that Minerva was back from boarding school and that made his day a lot more happier.

"Why your stupid Reverend father had to send you away, I'll never know," he mumbled as he began the steep climb up the hill to the vicarage that the McGonnagal family inhabited.

Dougal could remember sliding down this very hill with a laughing Minnie not far behind him - their childhood had been one of many games, laughter, fun and jokes.

But then Minerva had dropped the bombshell that she was being sent away to a boarding school far away from home and their friendship had never been the same again.

Minnie was always home for the holidays but a nine weeks a year (seven for summer, two at Christmas) was not enough for Dougal, especially when he had become so accustomed to seeing her every single day.

Besides, she was always very quiet whenever they did meet up and she never told him that much about her school which made Dougal suspect that she didn't even like the place if she wasn't willing to tell him about it.

Dougal almost slid on the puddle ridden driveway but managed to stop himself from falling over by grabbing a nearby bush, pulling the leaves off the side but managing to steady himself at the same time.

Letting out a whistle, he sighed and straightened himself up, flattening down his damp locks and trying to wipe as much rainwater from his freckled face as possible.

With that done, Dougal raised a hand and knocked on the door in front of him, feeling like he did when he used to scramble up the hill to beg Reverend McGonnagal about Minnie playing out.

The answer would usually be no until Minerva's mother, Isabel, appeared behind Robert and scolded him for being so harsh before allowing Minnie to play with Dougal for a while.