Prologue

August 2001 – A café in uptown New York

He was nervous as hell!

The young, red-headed, curly-haired, lean man fidgeted for the tenth time in the last five minutes. Anyone passing by his table outside the little posh café he favoured in uptown New York would swear he had ants in his pants. He was nervous!

He waited impatiently for his girlfriend yet dreading the moment she would arrive as well. He loved his olive skinned, dark curly haired, green eyed Caribbean born woman, and was hoping to God she'd say yes when he asked her to marry him. To share the rest of her life with him and he with her.

But would she say yes? Would she deign to continue loving him when he finally told her the secrets he'd kept hidden from her in the two years they'd been together? Or would she run in the next direction, screaming that he was mad.

He didn't want to think about it. He loved her, really loved her - and not just because she ended his four year long tradition of spending Christmas by himself when he'd met her in the jewellery shop she was working at, at the time. She was sweet, loving, understanding, didn't mother him around. She was quietly sophisticated and as smart as hell. In fact, she'd be finishing College in about two years.

He wanted to spend his life with her, dearly!

In the cold morning air, he was almost twitching in anticipation when Samara finally showed up at 7.30. He took a deep breath and stood as she approached. He stared at the vision she made with her bright, hopeful smile and short pink dress. She wasn't pretty by the conventional word but to him, she was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

"West!" she laughed, hugging him as she reached his side. West hugged her back. Tightly. This might be the last time she let him hold her.

He carefully sat her down on the chair across from him, then just looked at her. It was one of his favourite pastimes – just looking at Mara in animation. All hot-headed, blowing out steam from her day or going on passionately about the changes the world needed. Right now, though, she was just grinning at him, waiting patiently for him to speak though he could see she was visibly quivering with… excitement? Did she know?

"So?" she prompted coyly when he wouldn't say anything. "Do you have anything to ask me West?"

She did know! The minx!

"Maybe," he teased back, "Will you say yes?"

"Do you want me to marry you?" said his straight forward angel with all her brazenness and in a near delighted squeal.

"Do you want to marry me?" he hedged hopefully. He didn't want to drive her away with the truth yet. Happiness had been real thin on the ground these last seven years and he didn't want to let go of the current light of his life. His banking business was doing much better than he ever expected, but she was the centre of his world right now. He hoped she be that way forever.

"Yes!" it was a full out squeal that had passers by and other patrons of the café looking but neither Mara nor West noticed. His heart had missed a few beats then promptly soared at her one word and then she'd jumped in his lap. West hugged her full body to his, practically squeezing her until she squealed and laughed again. Beyond them, an old, cheerful, weather beaten gentleman whipped out a camera and snapped a quick picture. Neither lovers noticed.

"Oh my God!" Mara laughed in his ear while he inhaled the scent of her perfume on her throat, "I was waiting forever for you to ask!"

"Forever?" he kissed the little hollow he encountered while his fingers reached up to tickle behind her neck. She always loved his fingers.

Mara kicked her feet in delight at his touch, saying in a voice of wonder, "Yes! When I saw you at Davamonds two years ago, I just felt like we connected and then you looked at me and I knew! I knew we were meant to be. I had thought then that 'that's the man I'm going to marry!' If you'd asked me then I would have married you immediately after I finished my shift."

He had nothing to say to that. Who could top such women's intuition anyway – certainly not him. And he didn't want to. But…

He bit the nail on the head, so to speak.

"Samara, there's something I have to tell you. I've been lying to you for two years. I…" it all came out in a rush but she understood.

Apparently she thought the worst because she jumped off his lap and looked at him with an aghast expression. "You don't have a wife, do you!"

What! "Where'd you get that idea? No!" he insisted. Thank goodness he already knew she was crazy so he didn't take that accusation into question. She knew she could trust him… she always did.

"Then nothing's wrong then?" she asked suspiciously, taking her seat again.

West decided to take it like a dose of medicine. He took a deep breath, looked at the fountain next to them rather than at her, and let it all out. If she wanted to run, then he'd just spend the rest of his day off drinking himself into oblivion.

"Mara, I'm a Wizard! I know you think it's crazy, that I'm crazy for saying it, but it's true! I'm a real Wizard and I can do magic."

Silence from the other side of the table. West forced himself not to look. Not to look. Not to look… He looked. His muggle girlfriend was just staring at him expectantly, still with the dizzy grin. West wondered if she heard him; he knew she was super-smart so she couldn't have misunderstood. Was she waiting for him to do a string of tricks for her or something?

"Well?" he asked, just wanting to get the storm over with. Quick and painless.

"Well?" Samara echoed, "You mean that's it? That's what you wanted too tell me?"

"You're not surprised, or disappointed or anything?" he questioned, a little light-headed from relief.

"Well… not really. I mean, I knew you were special and there were times when you just made things happen, you know. I began to suspect."

"So you're not surprised by the whole Wizard thing? You're not freaked out?"

She bent her head a bit to attempt hiding her pinkening cheeks, "I probably should have told you sooner… you see, my sister is a witch and my cousin as well. They went to the Caribbean Magical Guidance Association in Jamaica from when they were 12 till 18. I was so jealous! Now I have my very own magical husband!"

It was his turn to be shocked. "What! You're related to magical folk!"

"Yes."

This time, it was he who leapt across the distance separating them. He hauled her out of her chair and spun her around mid-air before he even knew he was doing it… he was so happy.

"Thank God! I thought you'd leave me and call me a freak or something!"

"I love you," was her reply. Then, "So when can we get married? I have exams next month so it'll have to be before or after…"

"Before," he said eagerly as his brain had not begun to function again yet. But then… "Wait," he set her down on the chair before kneeling and clutching her hands. "There is still something else."

"Yes?"

"Mara, my name is not Westley St. Clair. Not really."

"What?" This time, he had shocked her real good. She was staring at him like he had two heads and was a stranger. Well he was, but not really. She knew him inside out, just not how he grew up and how he acquired the money to start his business.

"It might take a while (about ten years) but I'll tell you everything, Mara, I promise."

"Who are you?" she asked softly, warily. West winced. She should be able to trust and love him implicitly – hell, she had! Now here he was, spoiling it.

"My real name is Percy Weasley…"

December 2009 – A very large house in the very posh side of Manhattan

"Hey!" West called as he stepped in through the garage door of his and Mara's three floors, six bedroom, seven bathroom, four car garage home. He was tracking in snow but who cared. Everyone had finally been sent home for the holidays. With a mere five days till Christmas, the Bank had been more busy than usual but West put his lovely family above all else. In the fifteen years since he's left his parents' home and their warm love, he never forgot what family meant. He'd protect each of them with his life and right now, that meant being home for Christmas, days before old St. Nick finally came. And if that meant giving up a few million dollars, he could happily live with it.

But still, he frowned, tossing his red curls away from his eyes. This was highly unusual. Usually when he came home he was bombarded by his wife and kids… a ritual that he lived for if truth be told. Where were they?

"Hello! Daddy's home!" he called. He traipsed past the empty, forever untidy kitchen and into the living room.

"I'm lonely!" he called.

That got them. "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" two little voices wailed, not in unison, from the family room a few rooms away. Three pairs of hurried footsteps were heard with one leisurely one trailing behind.

One second before a wobbly toddler with brownish red curls and almost alabaster fair skin came around the corner, his older sister raced pass him, her curly black hair flying behind her as she threw herself into her father's waiting arms.

She sent her brother a smug glance as she hugged her Daddy, prompting him to start bawling at having lost their ritual race a second time in a row.

"Andrea!" her mother scolded gently as she appeared just seconds behind her daughter, "you might have let him win."

In response, Andrea nuzzled her nose to her dear Daddy's, giggling as he laughed.

West hugged his four-year-old precocious little darling close, watching his four months pregnant wife pick up their son, Niall, before coming to him. In perfect sync, he shifted Andrea to one arm and hugged the rest of his family with the other. Mara laughed and kissed him while one year old Niall giggled and patted his Daddy's chest, obviously happy he was home again. His business trip to Kansas had lasted three days, more than his little family could stand. He sighed happily, hugging them close. After being an outcast, not being appreciated, being told to get lost forever, and not trying to reconcile with the last family he had, he would forever cherish the one he created for himself, knowing he made them happy and they made him happy.

In the doorway where his wife and children had passed through now stood his mother-in-law. She had Mara and Andrea's curly black hair and olive, smooth skin, but instead of an all out smile, she wore a slight frown. West grinned at her, knowing she didn't love him any less than her daughter or grandchildren. It was the simple matter of, even after almost ten years, she still didn't want to admit that this Wizard with no family had managed to take her daughter and make her his own.