Simone woke the next morning to unfamiliar voices.

"Eli?" she mumbled, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. But none of the voices sounded like anyone she knew. Her eyes widened.

She shot out of bed and rushed down the stairs without glancing at a mirror and stopped at the very last step. In the sitting room and kitchen were a group of people she had never seen before. There was a very old man in fine blue robes that buttoned over his large belly and halfway down his calves, where they exposed his pinstriped pants and shiny black shoes. His white hair was slicked over, as if attempting to hide the large bald spot on the crown of his head, but his bicycle mustache was thick and perfectly styled. Next to him was an equally old woman, back straight, turned-up nose in the air while examining the room around her, dressed in silky pale pink with beautiful pearl jewelry and a small matching witch's hat. Simone realized these two must be her grandparents. She could see her mother in them, in the man's brown eyes and straight nose, and the woman's greying blonde hair and short stature.

She immediately recognized the others as her mother's siblings. There was a man who looked just like her grandmother, short with blonde hair, a strong chin and sharp black robes, a tall woman with brown hair tucked into a complicated braided bun with sweeping green robes, and a short woman, the only of the three with their father's eyes, brown hair cut to her chin, and fitted red robes that matched her lips. Simone suddenly felt severely underdressed in her muggle tang top and polka dot pajama pants.

They all stared at her, quiet and impatient, though she didn't know what they possibly could have been waiting for when they'd just arrived. She looked down at her clothes and imagined the frizzy bed-head she must have been sporting and felt her cheeks flush. Her mother would kill her for sleeping late and greeting them like this.

The old man looked at her as if she didn't know where she was. "Hello," he said slowly with a rich southern accent, "My name is Clovis Terreur. This is my wife, Alcida Terreur. What is your name?"

Simone raised an eyebrow and glanced at her mother's siblings, who were sending her looks of pity, then back at her grandparents. "Simone. Simone Yves-Rameau," she said, feeling they would expect her full name for some reason. He looked mildly surprised and coughed, smoothing down his robes.

"You are Armelle's daughter, I assume?" he asked in a normal voice.

Before she could answer, the woman in red stepped forward. "Hello Simone, it's so great to meet you!" She pulled her into a tight hug, then spun her to face the others, an arm clasped around her shoulders. Her accent was an equally fancy high society southern drawl.

"My name is Miette Matisse, the youngest. That," she said, pointing to the short man, "Is Victor Terreur. He is the oldest. Next to him is Joan Lescaut, the second-oldest."

"She's not going to care about the order of our births," Victor said coolly.

"She might!" Miette said. "It gives her an idea about the age of her cousins."

"Oh Simone, that reminds me, have you gotten your letter yet?" Alcida asked, looking interested in her surroundings for the first time since Simone came down the stairs.

"Well, no," Simone said.

Alcida wrinkled her nose like she had smelled something bad. "That's not very good is it dear? Its nearly July, most schools have sent their letters by now. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Sending a letter so late?"

Clovis shook his head gravely. "I've certainly never heard of it. Victor, how long did it take for Sofie to receive her letter from Salem?"

"She'd received it by now," he said, looking very bored.

"Joan, what about Isabelle?"

"Stritmatter sent their letter by the first of June," Joan said with a smug look. "I suppose we don't have experience with the more…local schools though. Maybe since it's not a boarding school, she won't need as much notice to pack her things."

"That's true," Alcida said with an almost mockingly sad tone, "I imagine those schools are more last minute."

"I had a friend whose brother had a friend that went to one of those schools," Joan said in a hushed voice, "From her description, I'd expect that kind of nonsense."

"Simone, do you have any idea of what school you may end up in?" Alcida asked.

Every adult in the room quieted to hear her answer.

"No…" she said slowly.

"Clovis, you don't think…it's not possible…have you ever heard of…not being accepted?" She whispered the last part like it was a sin. Joan and Miette gasped, placing a hand over their mouths. Victor pursed his lips and nodded sadly.

"I've only ever heard of it happening to those who fail their BATs," Clovis said.

"Well how could someone possibly fail their BATs? You must know something about magic if you're taking them!" Alcida exclaimed.

"The practical side of the test costs 80% of the grade," he said, "And the only way to fail that would be if you couldn't even perform."

They all looked at Simone with a silence that said a lot, but she'd been rendered speechless. She knew they were messing with her, but she didn't know why. She thought back to the day she'd taken her BATs. The test wasn't very difficult, but maybe she'd thought that because she knew nothing? None of the proctors seemed impressed, after all. What if she'd failed? What if she'd done so badly that no school wanted her? Instead of responding and risking sounding very dumb, she walked into the kitchen, very aware of their gazes, like a weight on her back.

"Would you like anything to drink?" she asked. As she filled their requests, she suddenly noticed how much they stood out. The sitting room and kitchen were not only small, but open, making the rooms seemed very crowded with all of them in it. They looked as if they would fit in better in Fane's house than her own, which was eclectic and not nearly as put-together. Even their dining room table had different kinds of chairs rather than a matching set, regretfully reminding her of Moise's bar.

It was then that the fireplace roared, and her mother and brother appeared. They all carried bags of ingredients, probably for the rest of the dinner she'd been planning. Armelle's face lost its color, and she dropped her bags on the floor.

"Mother," she said, taking a step forward with her arms stretched out for a hug, but Alcida didn't reciprocate the action. In fact, she took a small step back. Armelle awkwardly dropped her arms. Alcida smiled sweetly.

"It's nice to see you dear," she said, cutting into the silence, "We've been talking to your lovely daughter Simone. She's been telling us all about the local schools."

Armelle looked at Simone and her face lost all color once again. She laughed the fakest laugh Simone had ever seen and pushed Simone toward the stairs.

"I get that they arrived early, but you should have taken a bath and gotten dressed by now, no? Go put some clothes on and comb your hair."

It was after she'd taken a shower that she began to wonder why such put-together people would show up anytime other than when they stated they would. She had a feeling it had something to do with their weird attitudes. She slipped on the robes her mother mentioned twelve separate times she was to wear in their presence and walked down the stairs once again. They were all seated around the dining table, extra chairs pulled from who knows where, still talking about schools. Eli couldn't be seen in the room.

"Miette's boys all attend Stritmatter. It's a fine school from what I've heard. Several of my colleagues went there and have nothing but praise for it. Their quodpot team has always been exceptional. Many players move on to play professionally, and their professors are some of the best in the world. With how well the first two have done, we expect little Remy will excel there."

"We'll be shopping for his clothes tomorrow," Miette said with a pleased smile.

"Isabelle loves it there," Joan cut in. "She's promised to help Remy with his first year, as she did so well last year. We were surprised, as the expectations are so high, but it was as easy as waving a wand. And still, she's learned so much."

"So where did Eli go, Armelle?" Miette asks.

Armelle looked happy to be included in the conversation. "He attended Tequesta School of Magical Trade."

Simone noticed her mother had gained an accent during her shower.

"Oh, a local school? What do they mean by trade?"

"The children split into specialties after their third year and began their apprenticeships early. Eli chose creature wrangling. He works for a business that keeps the swamp safe."

"I see," she said, looking as if she didn't like the idea very much. "Creature wrangling is such a dangerous job."

"It would be better to be wrangling something other than swamp creatures," Alcida muttered so only Clovis and Simone could hear. Simone personally thought her brother's job was unbelievably cool, but once again said nothing. Her mother would kill her if she pissed anyone off today. There was a pause in the conversation as her mother's family all sent each other knowing looks. Simone noticed that Armelle was much kinder to her family than she would have been to anyone else behaving this way. If she had spoken with that tone, about Eli of all things, she would've been sent to her room and forgotten for the rest of the day! But instead, a moment later, when their drinks were empty, she stood up and offered to refill them. As she walked around the table with a jug of iced tea, she found another topic of conversation.

"How is your husband, Miette?" she asked.

"He's doing just fine. The newspaper has begun to cover more than just MACUSA stories, so he may start travelling more often. The kids will love that, since he always brings them back fun things to play with."

"And Natasha, Victor?" Armelle asked, pouring his glass as well.

"She recently reconnected with her family. They missed her so much they didn't even mind her being a witch- claimed it must have been god's plan and even asked for an owl to contact her regularly. They don't like her not attending church though. Can't win them over with everything."

"What about your-"

"And what do you do for a living, Armelle?" Joan cut in. "It must be very hard to find a job these days with that law being passed soon."

Armelle looked up with confusion. "What law?"

"The law against non-magical persons holding jobs in a magical society," she answered with her head tilted to the side. Armelle looked stunned, and then slowly turned to her father. He seemed to refuse to look at her, and gently sipped from his glass while staring straight at the wall.

"I did not know about this," she said with a shaky voice, "But for now, I work for Congress."

Their eyes widened, and Clovis choked on his drink. "Doing what, pushing letters for the post office?"

Armelle straightened her back and lifted her chin. "I work for the Department of Hazards, charting the age and the different effects of ancient magical artifacts."

"Are your coworkers of the same…situation?" Miette asked. Armelle nodded.

"Why would they trust you with that?" Victor burst out, clearly outraged. "Someone could steal something, and they would never know!"

"Though I can use the artifacts, they trust us to test them because we would be unable to get past the magic that keeps them there," Armelle explained. "It would be impossible for us to steal, and that is exactly what they wanted from us."

"What kind of artifacts do you work on?" Joan asked, "I have a friend who is a few departments above and would love to know."

"I've taken an unbreakable vow. I can't talk about it," Armelle said. They all nodded as if they'd expected this answer. "I can say that the definition of an artifact isn't just objects, but also ancient curses and charms as well."

"I will tell the truth Armelle, I never expected you to work for MACUSA," Clovis said quietly. Armelle smiled at this, but Simone heard it more as an insult. Armelle bit her bottom lip for a second, and when she spoke, her voice was soft and watery.

"Father, what would you like for dinner?"

~.~.~

For dinner, Simone and her mother made a mixture of Haitian foods, or as Clovis had asked for, a collection of what she made best. Eli had apparently gone to work and would be back in time to eat, and there was no telling when Simone's father would get back, with the beginning of the school year being a very busy season for the owl post office, so it was just them. Her mother anxiously sent him several owls, but none of them had returned so he must have been completely swamped.

They plated the table with a beautiful set Simone didn't even know they had- a set of flowery bowls, plates, and mugs that her mother forced her to wash three times despite copious complaints until she was positive there was no more dust. They covered the table with a peach table cloth that matched the flowers, and a second table cloth made of white lace that Armelle made her rearrange at an angle to form a diamond shape. Her mother pulled peach-colored napkins from a drawer that had always been locked from Simone's touch, and folded them gently next to every plate, alongside complete matching silverware from the same drawer- since their usual silverware was as mismatched as the chairs at the table.

They served Griyo, Macaroni au Gratin, Beef Pate, a whole baked fish, Soup Joumou, red bean sauce, rice with black mushrooms and shrimp, fried plantains, and conch in a savory tomato sauce. The nice glasses had been put out, ready to be filled with iced tea, water, or cremas, a drink Simone was told she wasn't allowed to touch.

When it was finally time to eat, the food was at the perfect temperature. The family seemed impressed with the way everything had been displayed, and they all placed their napkins politely on their laps. Simone copied them. They all sat still, backs stiff and hands placed on their laps. Simone copied them then, too, not really sure what they were doing. After a few moments like this, Armelle let out a sigh and grabbed her father's plate. She began neatly placing bits of every dish on it and sent Simone a look that meant she was supposed to help. She quickly put her napkin back on the table and grabbed her uncle's plate to add different foods, though not as gracefully. When everyone's plates were filled, everyone meaning everyone except Simone and Armelle, they began to eat.

"There are no greens," Miette said in a remarkably pouty voice for an adult.

"Father asked for what I cook best," Armelle answered.

"Armelle, can you pour my drink?" Victor asked.

"Mine as well," Joan said.

"You should at least know how to make a Salad," Miette muttered, poking at her plantains. Armelle got up from her seat and pour everyone's drinks. When she sat down again, Alcida got a dramatically worried look on her face.

"I must say, I'm used to the food and drinks being plated magically, but I suppose you can't ask Simone to do that, can you?"

"Why's that?" Armelle asked.

"Well, with her failing the BATs…" she trailed off

Armelle looked shocked. She slowly huddled into Simone's personal space, her long hair acting as a momentary curtain from the rest of the family. Their faces were so close she could smell cremas on her breath, her eyes painfully wide and serious.

"Did a letter arrive this morning? Why didn't you say anything? How could you let them learn about this? Before me!?" she whispered quickly.

Fear rushed through Simone like water had been poured over her head, cowing her and forcing her to shrink back in her chair. But after remembering she hadn't done anything, irritation quickly followed. She was sick and tired of this talk about schools and letters. In fact, she didn't want to hear about it ever again! At this moment, having failed the BATs seemed was perfectly acceptable to her. She'd never have to talk about school again, and she could make Andre stop being so angry with her. She almost considered telling her mother that it was true, that she did fail, but the desperation in Armelle's eyes, and the thought of how odd it was that her grandparents kept bringing it up made Simone reconsider at the last second.

"I didn't get a letter yet," she finally said. The look of relief on her mother's face made her angry.

"Mother, why would you say that?" Armelle asked. "Simone can perform magic just like Eli and their father."

Simone stabbed at her food and darkly wondered why her mother was so confused seconds before, if she was so sure about that.

"Well, earlier she said she didn't think she passed," Alcida said with a shrug.

"I didn't say that. I didn't say anything, actually," Simone said, but nobody was listening.

"Right, and we'd just assumed, considering the circumstances. It was a surprise that your oldest had passed, after all," Miette said, still poking at her fried plantains.

"With your only other child working as a creature wrangler at a swamp," Victor said. "I personally just assumed that your influence in their talents would be strong."

"That's why congress is debating that law," Clovis said. "It's unfair for your kids to have been dampened like this. No child should end up like that."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

They all turned to see Eli standing in the sitting room, wearing his durable work clothes, spelled dry, meaning the swamp creature blood still stained the front of his pants. He looked angry, his eyes brows so furrowed it was like they'd join into one.

"Well," Victor said, placing his napkin on the table and shifting to face Eli, "Its simply fact. Everyone knows that the magically uninclined are likely to pass their situation onto their children."

"Magically uninclined?" Eli quoted, "Situation? Why don't you say it for what you really think it is- Squibs, passing on their disease!"

There was a loud gasping sound. Victor stood up, Clovis following shortly after, throwing his napkin to the floor.

"I can't believe you would accuse us of-" Clovis began, but Eli cut him off.

"I'm not accusing you of anything! I'm pointing out the truth! I've been sitting here, watching you order my mother around like a house elf, saying snide comments about my little sister's education! You came to our house, and you're treating my family like shit! She has welcomed you in here and made you dinner after everything you've done to her, and you can't even keep your bigoted mouths shut long enough for one peaceful dinner!"

And suddenly, it all made sense. Simone's irritation with her mother fell to the back of her mind and she recalled the snide comments, the sideways looks, the way Clovis had been speaking to her when they'd arrived- they thought she was a Squib, and clearly hated the fact that her mother was. But the only thing she could focus on, was that Eli had known all of this. Why hadn't she been told? Did Armelle think she couldn't handle the truth? Or, a dark voice in the back of her head hissed as she remembered her mother's reaction to her possibly failing the BATs, did she not think she deserved to know?

"You claim to be pointing out the truth when you're talking about things you weren't alive to witness!" Clovis yelled. "You don't know what happened twenty years ago, you only know your mother's biased version of the events!"

"I'd trust my mother's biased version over yours any day. She doesn't have a reason to lie," Eli spat.

"Well!" Alcida said, a hand on her heart. "I don't like the way your son is talking to my husband, Armelle. I think we're going to leave early."

"No!" Armelle said, standing up with her hands out, "Eli will apologise, he's just misunderstood what you mean."

Eli looked at Armelle with shock. "They just accused you of making us not have as much magic. They made fun of my job and admitted to assuming Simone was a squib because you're her mother."

Armelle walked over to Eli and pulled him outside. Simone stayed at the table, quiet and uncomfortable sitting next to these people. As if to harden her stance, Victor and Clovis sat down once again, furiously muttering about out-of-control children and Squibs not knowing how to raise wizards.

"Simone, dear, you know that's not what we meant from all of that stuff," Alcida said, rubbing Simone's forearm in a comforting manor. All Simone could focus on was how her nails matched the robes she wore, and the giant glimmering ring on her wedding finger. She had realized they were well off, but the ring made her wonder just how well off they were. How could someone so mean become so rich, she wondered.

"You're pathetic!" Eli shouted loud enough for them to hear, and the back door swung open. Only, rather than Eli walking through, a beautiful orange and brown owl Simone had never seen before came swooping in with a letter in its talons. The owl dropped the letter on the table in front of Simone, and then made a large circle around the kitchen before ducking outside, probably to sit next to all the other owls.

Alcida made an excited noise and grabbed the letter before Simone could. "Oh, Armelle, Simone's letter just arrived!" Her smile was maliciously excited, and she waited until Armelle and Eli had come back inside, and all eyes were on her before dramatically flipping it over. Her smile slipped. She brought the letter closer to her eyes, as if she needed glasses. Then she dropped back into her seat, barely caught by Clovis.

"Well, what does it say?" Miette asked. She and her siblings looked worried. Simone was too, but for a completely different reason. She almost didn't even want to hear it. What could be worse than not even passing? Was she in trouble somehow? She suddenly thought back to the siren's eye on her night stand and her heart skipped a beat. What if they knew? What if this was a letter stating she wouldn't be allowed to go to school for stealing? Oh Morrigan, her mother would kill her.

"Mother?" Armelle asked, leaning over Alcida's shoulder to look. She too, went very silent.

"Oh for goodness' sake!" Clovis yelled, "You haven't even opened it yet! Who is it from!?"

Alcida lifted the letter for everyone to see, then turned it over. Behind them, the fireplace roared to life, Henri jumping out like he'd been burned, but nobody paid it any attention. The envelope was a thick, creamy white, with a faint geometric pattern that shimmered under the correct lighting. Written across the back in burgundy ink was:

Ms. Simone Yves- Rameau

Fourth Home on the North Boardwalk

Yaguya Swamp

Florida

And sealing it shut, was the cranberry, teal, and gold wax seal of the Ilvermorny School of Witcraft and Wizardry.