A/N: I would like to apologize. I am so sorry for not updating sooner, especially when there was such a cliffhanger from last chapter. I have my excuses…but they really don't bring back the four months of silence from me. So just know that I was very busy, however I had been working my butt off on this chapter. There's a lot of dialog, but it's all necessary for the progression of the story.

And this might not be taken as good news, but this chapter is technically part one of a two parter. Why? Because the chapter was over 20,000 words and I wasn't even finished with it yet. And I just felt so bad about leaving you all hanging (I hope you guys are still with me), so I decided to split it into two parts and you guys can finally find out what happened after Puck arrived to ruin shit. So here is part one. I hope this was worth the wait and if it's not…it's only part one. And I've got a bunch of ideas still for the next part. Those of you who've followed me while I was writing ES know that it sometimes takes a while for me to put out a chapter. But good news: it's already half way done.

So here you go. Read. Ponder. Enjoy.


Quinn shut her eyes as Puck hoisted her up from the floor. No. No, no, no. This couldn't happen now. She wasn't ready. Things were finally starting to get a little better. It-it wasn't fair.

She never got to tell Rachel . . . everything.

It just wasn't fucking fair.

"Puckerman," Santana growled as she shot up from her seat with a pained wince. She leaned her hands on the table, her fingertips brushing against her wand. "What the fuck do you think you're doing here?"

"Well, at first I came here because Britt said you were hurt. But now," he grinned as he tilted Quinn's chin up with the tip of his wand, "I think I'm making me 35,000 galleons."

Santana chuckled humorlessly and picked up her wand before walking stiltedly over and pushing him away from Quinn. She maneuvered the bounded blonde to lean against the counter so she wouldn't fall and turned to face Puck with a shake of her head.

"I can't let that happen."

The wizard dropped his smile and furrowed his eyebrows, completely taken aback.

"You are high if you think you're going to stop me from taking this bitch in."

"And you're an idiot if you think I won't gladly kick your ass before you do that," Santana whispered harshly, all playfulness gone from her eyes.

Puck arched an eyebrow, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. He looked from Santana to Quinn, back to Santana, and then looked at the kitchen table where he had found them. Just sitting there. Not arguing, not fighting, not in any sort of danger.

Sitting and talking.

"What the fuck is going on here, Lopez?" he whispered seriously with a shake of his head. "You-you're harboring a fugitive?"

Santana sighed. "It's not like that – "

"Oh, it's not like that?" he stepped around Santana and turned Quinn around to see her arms that were bound behind her. He arched an eyebrow at the bandage and peeled it off, dropping it hastily to the floor when he discovered it to be smoking and burning away in the shape of the Dark Mark branded on Quinn's arm. He looked back up at Santana. "Because it really does fucking look like it."

Quinn's eyes snapped open. The pain was so harsh and building rapidly to a blinding climax she almost immediately passed out. She cried out behind the gag over her mouth and her eyes blurred with tears. The pain had been getting worse daily, so much soit now required a stronger cooling charm as well as a numbing paste to keep her from losing her mind. The Dark Lord had long since lost his patience with Quinn.

And he was making sure she was very aware of that.

Santana pushed Puck away from Quinn with her good arm and got right into his face.

"It's not like that," she sneered. "I know what I'm doing, okay? This situation isn't about just winning 35,000 galleons."

"You're right," Puck said, standing up straight so that he could look down at the raven haired witch, "it's about keeping wizards like her off the fucking streets. The same wizards that you demanded be kept away from your store and you're hiding one in your house."

"And if she was dangerous do you honestly believe that I would allow her to stay here?" she asked roughly, incredulously.

Puck opened his mouth to retort when more footsteps sounded on the stairwell. They both turned to watch Brittany and Marcy skip happily into the house and pause at the scene in the kitchen. Marcy, her smile dropped, rushed forward to Quinn and pulled at her restraints with a whine. Puck moved his arm as if to point his wand at the little girl and Santana brought her own up so the tip dug deeply into his stomach.

"Don't you dare raise your wand at my daughter," she growled angrily, low enough that Marcy couldn't hear her. Puck immediately dropped his hand, but didn't take his eyes off of them.

"Quinn?" the little girl murmured, still pulling fruitlessly at the ropes. She looked up at Santana with frantic eyes. "Mama, what-what's wrong? Quinn's hurt."

Brittany walked over and put a hand on Marcy's shoulder, leading her away from the other blonde. She kneeled down to look in her daughter's eyes with a serious expression.

"Ducky," she whispered, "I need you to go wait in the living room, okay?"

Marcy frowned and looked at her with big worried and confused blue eyes. "B-b-but I don't understand. What's wrong with Quinn?"

Brittany shook her head.

"Nothing is wrong with Quinn," she said sternly, but with a soft, reassuring smile on her face. She kissed her forehead and nudged her towards the other room. "Now, go. Mama and I have to talk to Uncle Puck really quick."

Marcy stared into her mother's eyes expressionlessly. Then she moved away and ran towards Quinn, hugging the silently crying witch's legs tightly before she pulled away with a small blush and all but ran into the living room with the stuffed duck clutched in her fist. Brittany watched Marcy until she was out of sight before taking out her wand and walking forward carefully. She ran her eyes worriedly over Quinn before snapping her eyes to Puck.

"What's going on?"

Puck cleared his throat, fidgeting nervously under Brittany's glare. Santana rolled her eyes.

What a pussy.

"He's trying to arrest Quinn."

Brittany's eyes widened in a panic and she shook her head looking from her wife to Puck and back.

"N-no," she said, grabbing a pained Quinn and pulling her away from where Puck and Santana were still facing off. "You can't do that!"

Puck looked between the two witches and narrowed his eyes. He sheathed his wand and held up his hands, stepping away from them. There was definitely something going on that they were keeping from him, but with one look at Brittany's wand poised for battle, he knew he didn't want to fight.

He could never fight them.

"Okay," he said slowly, pulling out a chair at the kitchen table and taking a seat. "I think we really need to talk about what the fuck has been going on around here lately. Civilly."

Santana and Brittany shared a look before the raven haired witch walked around the table and sat down in the seat she vacated when Puck appeared. They turned to look at Brittany who was still shifting anxiously next to Quinn.

"Baby?" Santana called over to her. Brittany wrung her hands together.

"A-are all of these-these restraints really necessary?"

The two witches turned to look at Puck and he rolled his eyes before waving his wand at Quinn, getting rid of the gag and all of the ropes with the exception of the ones binding her wrists behind her back. Quinn immediately pitched forward with a cry of pain and Brittany caught her in her arms. She moved Quinn to sit in the chair that was already pulled away from the table. Quinn hunched over the table top and shut her eyes, shaking and crying. Brittany bit her lip and sat down next to her, placing her hand softly on Quinn's head and putting her chin on the table to whisper soothingly into her ear.

Puck crossed his arms across his chest and the four of them sat in silence, save for the comforting whispers and pained whimpers. Santana leaned back into her chair and pursed her lips as she waited for someone to start talking. Next to her, Brittany suddenly quieted, slowly lifted her head up and looked at the hallway with a frown. She cut her eyes to her wife's and Santana pointed her wand behind her back to cast an immobilizing spell at where she knew Rachel was freaking the fuck out on the other side of the wall. She just knew that if things made a turn for the worse, Rachel would bust in the kitchen and make things worse if she didn't do something to make sure she'd stay put. Immediately, the two gashes on her shoulder seemed to awaken and shoot a burn down her entire arm, making her hiss in pain. Puck furrowed his eyebrows in concern and leaned forward.

"What is it? What happened?" he asked worriedly, reaching over to place his fingers on the bandage on Santana's shoulder. The Latina slapped his hand away before he touched her with a scowl, the pain already disappearing.

"Don't touch it, you fool," she sneered. "It's a Runespoor bite."

"Runespoor?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. "Here?"

Santana shook her head and dropped her wand on the table like she was angry with it. That fucking piece of shit.

"I ran into a bandit in West Virginia while I was looking for wand wood," then she leaned back in her chair and arched an eyebrow with a small smirk, nodding her head in Quinn's direction. "I probably would've died if it weren't for the woman you're trying to arrest."

Puck looked over at the hunched witch and sighed. This Death Eater saved Santana? That was almost laughable. He shook his head.

"Why are you guys protecting her?" he asked quietly. Santana pursed her lips; she's asked herself that question for a month.

"Because we were asked to," Brittany answered him, still watching over Quinn and running her fingers through her hair. "I don't like to turn away beings that need help."

"Even if they're known killers?"

"She won't hurt us."

Puck rolled his eyes. "No, she'll just leave that to her Dark Lord."

Santana scoffed and shook her head.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," she said, leaning forward a little bit. "That mark on her arm is literally torturing her and it's only been getting worse every single day. I'm sure she could put an end to that if she just joined her 'Dark Lord' again and she doesn't."

Puck scowled angrily. "And it never crossed your mind that she's just playing you?"

"Of course, it's crossed my fucking mind. If you think, for a second, that I would allow someone with her history just to stay in my home without a fight then you are a fucking idiot," she snarled and Brittany placed a hand calming hand on her arm. The blonde shook her head at Puck.

"The Death Eaters have been searching for her ever since she left Azkaban," she explained quietly, logically. "Why would she hide from them and skip off to a foreign country? Consider her sacrifices; it just wouldn't make any sense if she was really working for Voldemort after all this time. What does she honestly gain by being here?"

Puck drifted his eyes to Quinn who seemed to be on the very verge of passing out. "Protection and freedom from Azkaban?"

"And how do you know she deserved to be there in the first place?"

Puck snapped his attention to Santana and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Santana shrugged. "I mean, honestly, what do you know about Quinn's past?"

Puck narrowed his eyes challengingly.

"What do you really know about her past? Because I know you don't get branded with that mark unless Voldemort feels that you deserve it and that doesn't mean getting good fucking grades in school."

Santana opened her mouth to respond, but found that she had nothing to fight that. She didn't know Quinn's dark past and she had her doubts that even Rachel knew everything. She looked over at Quinn, the witch she had hated for so long, and found that she really didn't anymore. How could you hate someone after they saved your life, especially when you have given them no reason to? So, no. She wasn't going to let Quinn get arrested.

She had a shady past, but what kind of boring ass person didn't make mistakes in their life?

"Everyone strives for redemption eventually, don't they?" she whispered, finally taking her eyes off of Quinn to look at Puck. "What right do we have to stop them?"

Puck sighed and shook his head. At the very least, he and Santana were the last people to stop anyone in their quest for redemption. Shit, he's still working on his. But he had a job, one that he loved, one that he took more seriously than most things in his life.

"I don't plan on stopping her," he said, staring into Santana's eyes. "But she'll have to fight for redemption in jail, where she belongs. She was convicted for murder and she escaped from prison with eight other Death Eaters. She is definitely no exception to the law."

"And what the fuck do you think you're going to say when you bring her in?" Santana asked hotly, leaning forward in her seat, "You think the Minister of Magic is going to ignore the fact that we had been hiding a wanted witch? Fuck that shit. You know exactly what they'd do to us if they found out we were keeping her here and you're a dead man if you think I will ever allow you to do that."

Brittany grabbed Santana's arm to pull her back and the Latina stood from her chair, stepping away from the table. She began to pace, running her fingers through her hair completely frustrated; nothing good could come from this situation. Someone was going to get fucked over, one way or the other. Her heart didn't know who to be mad at more: Puck for coming here without a warning or Quinn for coming here in the first place. She leaned against the wall with a deep breath when her chest began to ache and looked at the trembling blonde still hunched over the table.

Maybe she was just a little bit angrier with Puck.

Puck watched Brittany coo soothing words into Quinn's ear and realized that, shit, he had no idea what to do. He knew what he should do, but the last thing he wanted to happen was for Santana and Brittany to be arrested and taken away from their daughter. These were two of his best friends and he was Uncle Puck.

It would kill him if Marcy began to hate him for hurting her mothers.

But he couldn't just ignore the wanted Death Eater sitting right next to him. And maybe he would've been able to ignore her if she didn't have that mark because he trusted the Lopezes with his life. However, being an Auror required him to know of the top criminals in the wizarding world. He was moderately informed about Voldemort and his followers, enough to know that Quinn's past had to be a thousand times darker than his and Santana's combined.

Santana had a point though: he didn't know a thing about this Quinn Fabray. For all he knew, she really could be innocent and just thrown into the middle of the battle without much of a say in her involvement. It definitely wouldn't have been the first time this had happened to someone. And Santana and Brittany wouldn't defend her so vehemently without a good fucking reason. But what he wasn't going to allow happen was for this stranger, this Death Eater to walk free without knowing anything.

And he knew just how he was going to get his answers.

"Okay," he said quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and looking back over at Santana. "I'm not going to arrest her."

Across from him Brittany breathed a sigh of relief, but Santana only narrowed her eyes.

"But what are you going to do?"

Puck sighed and stood up from the table to walk behind Quinn.

"If it were any other situation, I would take your word that this witch is harmless without a second thought. You know that. But I just can't. This is too fucking serious," he said and relaxed slightly when Santana nodded in understanding. He leaned against the counter. "I won't tell anyone about this, about her. But that doesn't mean I won't be looking her up. And if I find out that she isn't what you promise she is, I will arrest her. I'll keep your names out of it if I have to, but she will be going back to jail and nothing you do or say will stop me from taking her."

Santana pursed her lips before nodding. "Fine."

Brittany turned her head sharply in Santana's direction.

"San," she whispered and her wife just shook her head.

"It's fine, baby – "

"And she will be staying with me."

Both witches snapped their eyes to Puck. Brittany shook her head and stood up from the chair while Santana stepped forward, leaning her hands on the table.

"That's not necessary," the Latina told him through her teeth.

"It is," Puck whispered gently, but in a way that told them that this wasn't up for discussion. "I know you're not the type of people to send her away behind my back. But I also never thought you'd be hiding a Death Eater here in the first place so I'm not going to take the chance. I'll keep her healthy and I'll keep her a secret, but she'll be on my watch. If I find her innocent, then I'll allow her to come back. I'll even help her in any way that I can. But you either agree to this deal or I will be forced to just take her in now and have no other choice than to tell them exactly where I found her."

Santana glared at the wizard and, next to her, Brittany began to shake her head, mumbling under her breath. Would Quinn be innocent enough to meet Puck's standards? Was Quinn even innocent? Not that Quinn was Santana's friend or anything, but she actually did believe the blonde when she implied that becoming a Death Eater was something she pretty much couldn't avoid. Sure, that didn't negate whatever she had to do in her past as a Death Eater, but the Latina has lived with this witch for a month. She's spent all day with her every day and never had she even tried to do anything that could remotely be considered evil. She's saved her life.

And maybe she's biased, but that's innocent enough for Santana. Fuck Puck and his stupid standards.

"Okay. Fine," Santana whispered as she stood up straight and crossed her arms across her chest. "You can take her."

Brittany spun around to face her wife with a stricken look on her face as Puck pulled a severely weakened Quinn out of her chair.

"Santana, no."

The Latina held up her hand and picked up her wand with the other. "But we will be visiting every day to check up and we'll read every bit of information that you get on her."

"San," Puck said exasperated, with a small roll of his eyes, "Come on, that's not necess – "

"Yeah? Fuck you," Santana growled and walked over to him, prying his hand off of Quinn and catching her with a slightly pained grimace when the blonde fell forward. "If she's not innocent, then it's because we all say so. You, me and Brittany."

"And Quinn."

Santana and Puck sighed, knowing it was useless to argue with Brittany.

"And Quinn, I guess," the wandmaker mumbled. She arched her eyebrow at Puck. "That's the deal. If you don't like it then we can fight now and you'll fucking lose."

Puck stared at the two witches and was stunned once again by their fierce protectiveness for this Death Eater. He shook his head. It wasn't worth it to duel his best friends over this witch. He just hoped they could come to an agreement in the end before they had no other choice but to fight. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay, fine – "

Knock, knock, knock.

The three of them snapped their heads towards the living room and Puck cursed under his breath.

"Shit," he glanced at the clock and noticed that he had been in here for almost a half an hour. "That's probably Finn."

Santana fixed him with a fierce glare. "What?"

"Sorry, fuck," he said, already walking towards the staircase. "He's on patrol with me. I told him I was only going to be here for a few minutes."

"No, he can't – he can't come in here," Brittany whispered frantically, her eyes shifting frantically to the hallway. Santana placed a comforting hand on her wife's forearm.

"It's okay, baby, I got this. Marcy!"

Tiny footsteps hurried to the kitchen and Marcy appeared in the doorway. "Yes, Mama?"

A smile immediately formed on the Latina's when her eyes fell on her daughter.

"That's Uncle Finn. Stall him for us?" she asked gently. Marcy nodded her head and, with a small wave to Puck, she skipped off down the stairs and they could hear Marcy and Finn immediately fall into excited conversation. Then the smile dropped from her lips and she fixed Puck with a hard glare. "Keep him away from here. I'll bring Quinn to your place and meet you there."

Puck hesitated slightly before nodding. "Take her to the basement. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Hey," Santana hissed and Puck paused to look back at her. "Not one fucking word about this meeting."

The wizard rolled his eyes and waved her off before rushing into the living room and down to the front door. They listened for Puck and Finn's voices, then the door closed and only the soft pitter-patter of Marcy's footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Santana let out a huge sigh before shifting Quinn to lean uncomfortably against her shoulder and Brittany turned to her with a frown.

"We're really doing this?"

"We don't have a choice," Santana groaned as she reached around Quinn's waist to get a good hold on her.

"Here," Brittany shifted Quinn so she wasn't leaning against the healing gashes. "Why don't I take Quinn to Puck's? Your shoulder still needs to be cleaned and you chest – "

"I got it, Britt," Santana assured softly, glancing into those worried blue orbs. She nodded towards the hallway. "You should stay with her, anyway."

Brittany bit her lip and looked over at where Rachel was still frozen, helpless and hidden. This was just going to ruin her. The blonde's heart broke just thinking about it. She turned back to her wife and nodded reluctantly.

"Okay," she whispered. Santana smiled sadly at her and when Marcy hesitantly walked back into the kitchen, the Latina gave her a small wave.

"I'll be back, baby," she told her and the little girl furrowed her eyebrows.

"Wait –" she called out confused, but her Mama and a sickly looking Quinn had already winked out of sight with a soft pop. She turned to Brittany with a frown and before she could even open her mouth to ask whatever question among many that were soaring through her brain, a loud thump sounded in the hallway. She turned to the noise and her mother was already hurrying towards it.

There was a brief, strangled cry that echoed through their home and it was one of the saddest things Marcy had ever heard in her short life.

She walked carefully towards the hallway where she could hear her Mommy apologizing softly just on the other side. The sight that greeted her, that rendered her motionless and speechless, was Rachel sitting against the wall with a hand clamped over her mouth, her streaming, devastated eyes trained unfocusedly past Brittany's shoulder as the blonde hugged her. The brunette's body shook and Marcy felt the dire need to do something, anything to stop Rachel from making those heart wrenching noises. The little girl took a step forward and her foot hit something hard and small on the ground.

A jar of bruise removal paste lay unopened on the floor between them.


When they arrived in Puck's basement, Santana let out a loud, pained groan and leaned Quinn against the wall where she immediately slid to the floor in a heap. The raven-haired witch placed a hand against her aching chest, close to the bandage that covered the slightly throbbing gashes. Apparition, apparently, was a little too much for her still fresh injuries.

"Motherfucking son of a bitch," Santana hissed under her breath, leaning her head back against the wall. She took a deep breath and waited until everything was a nice subtle, bearable throb like it was before. She looked around the spacious basement that had a few boxes and crates in a couple of corners and an old, beaten down desk in the other. It smelled strongly of incense and a residual scent of potions, probably from Puck's younger days. Her eyes dropped down to the blonde who was still awake, but with her eyes squeezed shut and she was fighting weakly against the restraints that held her hands behind her back. Santana waved her wand in the air making the ropes disappear and Quinn immediately cradled her left arm to her chest with a whimper. The wandmaker winced. Suddenly her pain didn't seem so bad because at least it's only temporary.

Quinn had to live with hers.

She waved her wand again, bringing forth a large cot to occupy the empty corner next to them. Santana bent down under Quinn's right arm and helped her stand, causing a little bit of pain for the both of them. As she slowly shuffled the two of them towards the cot, Quinn lolled her head in her direction.

"P-please, keep her s-s-safe," she whispered weakly. "She-she has t-t-to stay safe."

Santana glanced over at her briefly before dropping her eyes to the cot and gently lowering Quinn down on the thin mattress with a grimace. She slid down to the cold concrete floor next to the blonde's bed, and leaned tiredly against the wall.

"We will, Quinn," she sighed and closed her eyes.

Santana listened to the shaky breathing and whimpers of Quinn until nearly ten minutes later when Puck apparated in. She pushed up from the ground and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the staircase before he could even speak. It wasn't until they made it to the main floor, away from the earshot of Quinn, that Santana spoke to him again.

"What happened with Finn?" she asked immediately. Puck shook his head.

"Nothing," he said, following Santana into his bathroom. "Our shift was pretty much over, so I told him I was going home to get you a potion for your injuries."

"How kind of you," Santana mumbled as she opened his medicine cabinet. She looked at the different jars and bottles in there before shutting the cabinet door and began rifling through his drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Puck asked. "The potion's in my room."

Santana ignored him and slammed the drawers closed in frustration. She turned to Puck with a look of incredulity.

"You don't have first aid around here?"

Puck furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. "The Ministry has its own hospital wing. I just go there."

Santana rolled her eyes.

"Well, that's fucking safe," she scowled. She threw her hands up in annoyance. "What do you have here?"

"What the fuck are you looking for?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you have. Something that will knock someone out until morning, at least. Something strong."

Puck stared at her for a moment as he argued briefly with himself. Yes, of course he had something like that, but it wasn't necessarily legal. But, then again, keeping a Death Eater as a more or less prisoner in his basement wasn't legal at all, so he nodded at Santana to follow him to the bedroom. She waited in the doorway as Puck walked over to his sock drawer. He pulled out a medium sized tin box and even from where Santana was standing she could hear the distinct clink of vials and potion bottles when he set it down gently on top of the dresser. He flipped it open and all of the concoctions crammed in there like glass sardines looked . . . kind of pretty. Liquids of every color seemed to glow and illuminate Puck's face with a magical rainbow.

People were more inclined to take drugs if they looked cool.

Santana arched her eyebrow and leaned against the door jamb with her arms crossed over her chest. "Looks like someone didn't drop his bad habits like he promised everyone."

Puck rolled his eyes and chuckled, pulling out a vial with a bright green liquid and a small glass bottle filled with an electric blue substance, and put the box away carefully. "I keep a stash for special occasions which I'm sure you'll agree this is."

"Naughty," Santana said with a smirk as she followed him back down to his basement. The wizard shrugged his shoulders with his own grin directed to her over his shoulder.

"You keep my secrets and I'll keep yours." There was a small pat on his back that he took to mean that Santana agreed with that deal.

They froze at the foot of the stairs, completely shocked back into the grim reality by the sight of Quinn with her mouth opened in a silent cry and her back arched at a highly uncomfortable angle. Santana snatched both of the potions out of Puck's hands and rushed over to Quinn, lifting her up so she could sit behind her, and held her firmly against her chest. The blonde shivered so violently against Santana, she worried she would drop the potions.

"Puck," she called over to him as she juggled the bottles in her hand, "which fucking one do I give her?"

Puck seemed to snap out of his haze and strode forward, taking the bottles out of Santana's hands and ordering her to tilt Quinn's head back. He uncorked the vial with his teeth and poured half of the green potion down the blonde's throat. Quinn coughed harshly for a moment and then slowly stopped shaking. Santana could see the pupils overtake the foggy hazel orbs until her eyes were almost completely black. The wandmaker laid Quinn, who seemed completely oblivious to them, down softly on her back and she and Puck stepped away from the cot to watch her. Quinn's breathing settled, her blinking slowed, her body relaxed and her left arm that was being held against her chest fell with a soft thump to the mattress. The blonde's dilated eyes stared up at the ceiling for a moment.

Then she beamed lazily.

"There you are," she slurred in a whisper, reaching up with her right hand to caress the air above her. Her arm dropped heavily back to the cot when she ran out of strength. She practically purred as that comforting, perfect smell overcame her senses. She turned to her side, pulling herself into a fetal position and reveled in the colors and the feel of soft skin on hers and the whispers in her ears.

She sighed and closed her eyes, a serene smile on her lips.

"I love you, too."

Santana stilled at the confession, but let out a breath of relief when the blonde fell silent and she walked forward to see that she had dropped off to sleep. She tugged on Quinn's shoulder so she plopped on her back and shook her head at the small smile still frozen on her face. Those poor fools.

They sure do have a shitty life.

She turned back to Puck. "What did you give her?"

Puck drew his curious eyes away from Quinn and re-corked the vial with a shrug. "A hallucinogen. And a lot more than I would ever advise anyone to take."

Santana spun around with narrowed eyes. "She's not going to overdose is she?"

"Technically, she just did," he answered calmly as he put the rest of the green potion into his robe pocket. "What's the point of a hallucinogen if you just fall asleep right after taking it? Take two or three drops and you could have eight to twelve hours of magical, out-of-this-world fun. Drink as much as her and you'll get some really weird dreams and probably be completely knocked out to the real world for about an entire day."

"But she'll be fine when she wakes up?" Santana just managed to keep too much concern out of her voice. Puck nodded his head.

"A little disoriented, but the potion should keep her hydrated enough to avoid a nasty headache tomorrow night. She should be able to sleep through anything."

Santana hummed distractedly, her eyes roaming over Quinn's face to try and find any sign of discomfort, but her expression was the epitome of peaceful. Her eyes drifted to the small potion bottle filled with the bright blue liquid still in Puck's hand.

"And what's that do?" she asked with a nod to the glass container. "Make her fucking wasted as well?"

Puck chuckled.

"Actually it's for you," he tossed it to her with a smirk and Santana caught it with a Seeker's ease. She immediately threw it back to him.

"You know I don't do any of that shit anymore."

The Auror rolled his eyes and walked forward to place it on Santana's palm, closing her fingers around it with his own hand. "It won't cure anything, but it'll make you feel warm and numb like a drink of really great firewhiskey without the low inhibitions and tactless truths. It should make apparating as painless as always. It's one of the safest things I've ever made if taken correctly; the hospital wing even uses it sometimes. It's fine, I promise."

Santana stared into Puck's dark sincere eyes and sighed. Such expressions never used to faze her before; Brittany has made her exceptionally soft. She uncorked the bottle and took a whiff of the potion, not at all surprised by its pleasant smell of crisp wilderness. She swirled the hypnotic blue potion in its bottle and felt the old cravings bubbling in her stomach.

"How much do I take?" she asked, albeit a little reluctantly.

Puck took out his wand and conjured up a shot glass. He poured in about a quarter and when the liquid hit the glass, tiny sparks shot out and exploded like baby fireworks of green and orange and purple. Santana rolled her eyes as she grabbed the potion from him, still crackling off sparks.

"You're such a fucking show off."

"Everything I do has to be pretty," Puck said with a smirk. "That's why people would always come back to me."

The wandmaker shoved him in the shoulder for his cockiness and downed the portioned out potion. It was sweet, almost fruity and it was no wonder why so many witches and wizards became addicted to Puck's creations. They tasted awesome and they worked fast; Santana couldn't even feel the ache within her chest anymore. She took a deep breath, reveling and trying to get acquainted with the warm fuzzy feeling that was surging through her body. Puck watched her with a proud grin.

"That's good shit, right?"

Santana rolled her eyes and pulled out her wand.

"We'll see when I get back."

The Auror furrowed his eyebrows. "Where are you going?"

"My place," she said, taking a deep breath as she prepared to apparate. "I'll only be a few minutes."

She was gone before he could say a word.


When Santana appeared in her bedroom, Brittany was pacing worriedly by the bed. She breathed a sigh of relief and hurried over to pull the wandmaker into a tight hug. It only lasted a second before the blonde pulled away with a squeak.

"Oh, Merlin, your injuries!" she whispered, her eyes wide and watering. "I'm so sorry, baby!"

Santana smiled adoringly at her wife and brought her hand to her chest. Apparating was more or less painless, just a slightly annoying throb in her shoulder where her bites were. Her chest, though, didn't hurt unless she pressed on it and even then it felt like a fading bruise.

"It's fine, Britt," she assured quietly, grabbing Brittany's arm to pull her forward and give her a soft kiss on the lips. She pressed another one to her wife's knuckles before turning toward their en suite bathroom. "I have to go back to Puck's. I only came back to get – "

Her eyes fell to their dresser top where the bandages, numbing cream and bruise removal paste were waiting for her. She let the smile cross her lips and walked forward to pick up the supplies. She turned back to her wife and Brittany looked a little sheepish.

"The-the pillows," she mumbled as an explanation. "They said you were going to need them."

Santana walked forward to plant another kiss on the blonde's lips, making the giddiness bubble up in her stomach. She chuckled at the tiny happy squeal that escaped Brittany's lips.

"Thank you," she whispered. She managed to turn her eyes away from those hypnotizing blue orbs that she fell in love with and glanced at the door where the world beyond it wasn't nearly as fluffy as this room was. She cleared her throat. "How's Marcy?"

Brittany bit her lip and shook her head.

"I don't think she fully understands what's going on," she said quietly. "It's upsetting her."

Santana frowned and twirled her wand anxiously between her fingers. "Should we talk to her? Explain everything?"

"I'll talk to her," Brittany assured and nodded to the supplies in her wife's hands. "Go back to Quinn."

Santana sighed, but nodded her head reluctantly. She glanced back at their bedroom door.

"How's Rachel holding up?" she whispered.

Brittany frowned deeply and shook her head with her eyes tearing up.

"She's not."

Santana looked over at her wife and felt a pull at her heart for the fugitives. After more than a month of having to share this house she couldn't help but build a soft spot for them, against her better judgment. And even if she didn't consider them sort-of-but-not-really friends, she couldn't deny that this situation just fucking sucked.

If it were her in Rachel's place and Brittany, the only person she had left in the world, was taken from her potentially forever, she'd be just as broken.

She reached over to grab her wife's hand, holding on steady, her eyes fierce and bright as she stared into hers.

"We're going to fix all of this, okay?" she whispered sternly and she waited for Brittany to nod her head in understanding before she leaned forward, cupped the pale cheek, and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. "I'll be back before you know it."

A wavering, but genuine smile appeared on Brittany's face.

"Impossible," she whispered, lacing her fingers with the wandmaker's. "I'll always know when you're coming home."

Santana's heart ran rampant at those soft words and she stepped forward to press their bodies flush together, ignoring the protest in her chest and shoulder. She professed her love in a whisper against Brittany's lips and the blonde reciprocated the sentiment breathlessly. They shared a series of small kisses, just their lips pressing together, before Santana stepped back and with a quick squeeze to Brittany's forearm and a wink, she popped out of sight.


Puck was leaning against the wall with a discerning eye on Quinn when Santana came back. He arched an eyebrow at the bandages and pastes in her arms and the Latina ignored him as she sat down on the cot next to Quinn's peacefully unconscious body. She carefully lifted up the blonde's shirt and winced at the nasty bruise covering her ribs. It seemed to have gotten worse and she could hear Puck hiss right behind her.

"Shit, that's bad," he said quietly, leaning closer to get a better look at the swirl of deep blue and purple that marred the pale body. "What the hell happened?"

"I'm not sure," she mumbled distractedly as she gently felt around the injury to see if any of her bones felt broken. "The bandit probably got a lucky shot."

Puck watched Santana carefully apply the bruise removal paste on the Death Eater's side until it had been rendered to a faint yellow stain. Santana bandaged up Quinn's side and turned to the Dark Mark. She took the numbing cream and, without Quinn awake to tell her if the pain was becoming bearable, was very generous with it as she applied it to her arm. Then she wrapped it up and applied the strongest and longest lasting cooling charm she knew. It was freezing to the touch and, yet, she knew that the burn was still there, deep under the skin where she had no control over it. She sat back and looked at her handy work, confident that Quinn should wake up tomorrow feeling just enough pain that she would considered it normal.

Puck crossed his arms and leaned sideways against the stone wall.

"I didn't know those marks were so painful," he observed quietly.

Santana shrugged. "It probably has something to do with her being here."

She gave Puck a pointed look and the wizard just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he said and pulled out his wand. "Are you done?"

Santana nodded and stood up from the cot after she placed Quinn's arm gently back on the mattress.

"Yeah, that should do it – ," she narrowed her eyes when a pair of thick cuffs appeared Quinn's thin wrists, chaining her loosely to the wall. She turned to Puck angrily as he nonchalantly tucked his wand away in his robe. "Are you fucking kidding me? She is in no shape to do anything, let alone fight you. What the hell do you expect her to do without even a wand to defend herself?"

Puck faced her, totally unfazed by her anger, and shrugged. "Escape?"

Santana pursed her lips and clenched her fist.

"That is total fucking bullshit, and you know it."

"No, that is fucking bullshit," Puck growled, jabbing a finger in Quinn's direction. "A Death Eater, Santana? None of this would have happened if she wasn't here. If I get caught with her, then that's it for all of us. Why did you have to go and throw her shit into the fan so that we all get covered in it!? What the fuck were you guys thinking?!"

Santana shoved him roughly away from where he was shouting in her face. She furiously whipped out her wand as Puck stumbled into the wall, completely caught off guard.

"If anyone is throwing shit around here it's you!" she yelled at him, waving her wand in the air in her frustration. "Quinn has been living with us for over a month and everything was annoying as shit, but we were doing just fine. And if you would've, I don't know, knocked before you waltzed into my home like you owned the fucking place then you, along with everybody else, would've still been none the fucking wiser! But, no, you've succeeded in screwing it all up in ten fucking seconds, you stupid asshole!"

Santana raked her fingers through her hair and took a few steps away from Puck, trying to calm her fury. A day like this was coming from the very start and she knew it, but right now, she couldn't evenremember why she had allowed Quinn, this fleshy beacon of evil, to stay with her in the first place. Where the fuck was the bright side in this?

"What –Santana," Puck groaned and brought a hand up to rub his temples in boiling frustration. "Why are you defending her? You hardly know her and don't even try to tell me otherwise. Yet what you do know about her doesn't warrant any of your help and you know it. We don't have to argue about this and there's certainly no need for name calling, you fucking bitch. We've already come this far, haven't we? So, calm the fuck down. If I'm going to help you, I need to know everything."

The wandmaker let out a deep breath and hung her head. Puck was right. She needed to relax. They could just talk. As civil as they could manage, at the least.

"When I found out she was a Death Eater I wanted to kill her."

She turned around and Puck arched an eyebrow at her confession. She shrugged her shoulders and stepped forward a little bit, dropping her eyes down at the unconscious witch.

"I was furious that she would come here and put us in danger," she looked at the bandage on the pale forearm and shook her head. "Hell, I even considered calling you guys and turning her in myself."

"Why didn't you?"

Santana laughed mirthlessly.

"You know, everyone always makes fun of me for being whipped. Well, surprise, sur-fucking-prise, it's true. I let Quinn stay with us because Brittany asked me to," Santana snapped her eyes to Puck. "But Britt is special. She knows things that we don't. She may not know that she knows them now, but she does when it matters. I trust her with my life. And when Brittany puts her foot down, you know you trust her too."

Puck crossed his arms over his chest and dropped his sights to the Death Eater. He had his preconceived notions about her and when he took her in, he already had an idea of where she was going to end up: back in prison. But, damn it, Santana had a fucking point.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."

Santana seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. She stepped forward until Puck looked up at her.

"Look, I'm sorry you got sucked into this, I really am," she apologized quietly, even though she still sort of blamed him for all of this. She nodded over at Quinn. "And you're right, I hardly know her, but I've lived with her for a while now and even I can tell there's something different about her. Just-just give her an honest chance."

Puck pursed his lips before nodding his head a little reluctantly.

"Fine," he relented and Santana actually smiled at him. She patted him on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Puck. Seriously," she said as she stepped away, preparing to apparate home. Puck reached into his robe and held out the blue potion he had given her earlier. She shook her head. "Keep it for your prisoner."

Puck frowned. "Did it work?"

"Like a charm. That's why I'm telling you to give it to Quinn," she told him. Puck seemed to be conflicted before he nodded and put the potion back in his pocket. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Okay," the Auror said as moved back to give her her space. Santana's eyes dropped down to Quinn and a frown overlook her lips before she popped out of sight. He stared at the empty space that she vacated before turning to, as Santana called her, his prisoner. She didn't look so dangerous; hell, she was even still really attractive considering the horror stories of Azkaban he's heard. But she also wasn't old (except maybe in the eyes) and if the years on her bounty were correct, then she must've gotten marked when she was still a teenager. Even with his limited knowledge about the dark wizards in Europe, he knew that that was a feat that not many were able to achieve. And, in this line of business, it was always better to be safe than sorry. He shook his head and turned to walk up the stairs to the main floor of his house.

With a grumble, he slashed his wand over his shoulder and the cuffs disappeared from Quinn's wrists.


Santana appeared back in her bedroom and was disappointed to find the room empty. She could definitely do with some comforting kisses. She carefully undressed and got into her pajamas, still mindful of her numbed down injuries. She left her room and made her way to her daughter's, but stopped just outside of Quinn and Rachel's. She bit her lip and hesitantly placed her ear to the door. She stepped away almost immediately when she heard the painful sobs coming from inside.

"Quinn . . ."

The wandmaker winced at the broken voice and turned from the room completely. She didn't want to think of the pain that Rachel must be feeling right now. She hurried away from the door and, either the cries were getting louder, or it was echoing in her brain all the way to Marcy's room. She closed her eyes and shook her head of the noise before pushing open the door and walking in. She waited for her eyes to adjust in the dark and then she smiled at the sight of Brittany and Marcy curled up on her daughter's bed. She tip toed over to them and climbed under the covers, sandwiching Marcy between her and Brittany. She draped her arm over the little girl's waist, her skin brushing against her wife's whose arm was also around Marcy. Just as she settled her head on the pillow, her daughter began to shift until she blearily opened her eyes and blinked at Santana.

"Mama?"

"Hi, baby girl," the wandmaker smiled and brushed Marcy's bangs away from her striking blue eyes.

Marcy reached up and rubbed her eye with a small fist. "Did Quinn come home?"

Santana bit her lip and shook her head. "No, honey. Uncle Puck is going to look after her for a little while."

Marcy stared at her for a moment before nodding her head and scooting forward to cuddle into Santana, nuzzling her face into the crook of her neck.

"Rachel should stay with him, too," she mumbled tiredly. "She's very sad."

And then she fell back to sleep. Santana lifted her eyes to meet Brittany's over Marcy's shoulder and Rachel's heartbroken wails rang in her head again. And, much to her chagrin, tears were building in the corner of her eyes. She gripped Brittany's hand and pulled her closer to place a kiss on her lips.

"I love you so much," she whispered, just barely able to keep her voice from cracking. Brittany smiled at her, her eyes teary as well.

"I love you, too."


Quinn sat up with a gasp, her eyes wide and her heart pounding against her rib cage. She looked around and calmed down when she realized that she was comfortably in bed at the Lopez's. She put her lightweight head in her hands, her fingers sifting through her hair and brushing against the soft fur of her ears. There was definitely something off, but she just couldn't pinpoint it. How she even got to bed in the first place eluded her. She seemed unharmed, but the hairs on the back of her neck were standing at attention.

Even her tail was twitching.

There was a shift on the mattress behind her and arms wrapped around her waist, making her shiver in the very best way possible. Quinn closed her eyes and leaned her head against Rachel's that was propped on her shoulder. The fine fur on the brunette's ears tickled her cheek as the Empath nipped at her neck causing her to purr in contentment.

"You're troubled."

"I am," Quinn whispered as she leaned back to grant Rachel more access to her neck. "Something feels . . . wrong."

Rachel hummed and shifted around until she straddled Quinn's waist and wrapped her arms around her neck. The blonde's arms immediately settled around Rachel's midsection and, next to them, their tails met and wound together. Rachel smiled down at her, her tongue running along her pointed canines.

"Do you wish for me to make you feel better?"

Quinn grinned and gripped Rachel's bare hips to spin them around and lay her down on the mattress. She hovered above her mate, letting her bright gold eyes run pleasantly over her body. She moved her hand to run her fingers through Rachel's bedridden hair, stopping at the pointed dark brown ears peeking through the tresses, making them twitch. She leaned forward, reveling in the naked skin that melded against hers as she laid herself down over Rachel. Their noses brushed against each other and, like their tails, their fingers laced together as Quinn brought them to settle above Rachel's head.

"Since the very moment I first saw you," she whispered, their lips ghosting over each other, "you've always made me feel better."

Rachel bit her lip and blushed. Her brown eyes shined happily up at her

"I love you, you know."

Quinn's heart raced and she was sure that Rachel could feel it against her own chest. She placed a kiss on her lips and then trailed them to her neck where she nuzzled into the warm, soft skin. She felt Rachel purr, which she answered with her own, and squeezed Rachel's hands before letting go and trailing hers down the brunette's side. She nipped at the racing pulse point.

"I know, baby," she whispered against her skin. She moved up to look into Rachel's eyes as her fingers found their warm, wet destination. When Rachel arched underneath her with her eyes closed and her mouth dropped open, Quinn was sure that was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. She kissed her cheek, keeping her lips pressed against her skin as her fingers caused Rachel to moan and gasp. "I love you, too."

Rachel replied only with a cry of pure pleasure.


Brittany knocked softly on Rachel's bedroom door and waited patiently to see if she would be allowed in. She placed her ear to the wood and the only thing that answered her was a soft meow. She bit her lip and pushed open the door, dreading what state she might find Rachel in. When she spotted a kitty Rachel curled on what she was sure was Quinn's pillow, she almost let out a sigh of relief until she saw her eyes that, even as a cat, told Brittany that Rachel must've been crying all night. The blonde gave her a small sad smile and walked forward to sit on the bed next to the cat. She reached over and lightly ran her fingers through the soft brown fur.

"Good morning, Rachel," she whispered and bit her lip, folding her hands nervously in her lap. "Are-are you hungry?"

Rachel was still for a moment before she shook her head, which would've been unnoticeable if Brittany wasn't watching her carefully. The blonde frowned, but nodded; she wouldn't be hungry either if she were in Rachel's shoes. She scratched Rachel behind the ears, disappointed when she didn't hear the purr that she usually received, and stood up from the bed.

"Well, i-if you get hungry, just come and find me," she waited for any sort of reply from the small cat, but sighed when Rachel just closed her eyes and nuzzled her face into the pillow. Brittany turned to leave and paused right at the doorway, glancing back over her shoulder. She made a promise to Sammy to take care of them. It was her job and she wasn't going to allow even Santana to make her fail.

"We'll get her back, Rachel," she told her quietly. The cat opened her eyes just barely to look at her and Brittany gave her a small half smile. "I know we will."

And with that she walked out and closed the door behind her, leaving Rachel curious about Brittany, but far too exhausted to care about it for too long. Brittany walked towards the kitchen and took a deep breath to calm the fairies in her tummy. When she turned the corner, she smiled at Marcy who stood on one of the chairs and was helping Santana wash the dishes. She snuck up behind her daughter and tickled her sides causing her to jump and splash all of them with soapy suds.

"Mommy!" Marcy squealed, barely able to restrain her giggles. "You made a mess!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Brittany apologized playfully and placed kisses all over her laughing daughter's face, making Santana chuckle next to them. The blonde picked Marcy up from the chair and set her down on the floor, wiping the water off of her face. "Do you want to come run errands with me today, Ducky?"

Marcy nodded excitedly so Brittany patted her in the direction of her bedroom for her to get ready for the day. Santana turned off the faucet and faced her wife with a smile, grabbing the towel to wipe her hands.

"What are you doing today?"

"Just some shopping," Brittany answered, stepping forward to play with the Latina's fingers. "I'm going to pick up some supplies from Mercedes and stop by Kurt's and Artie's. Maybe go to the Post Office; you know how Marcy loves the owls."

Santana nodded and waved her wand over the dishes so that they put away themselves, pleased that spell casting was a little easier than last night. Puck's potion had worn out as she slept so it still hurt a bit, but Brittany had already called a Healer to come by later and really clean her injuries. Santana scratched absently at her chest and looked over towards the hallway.

"Is Rachel hungry?"

Brittany shook her head sadly, focusing on Santana's fingers. "I think she's going to stay in her room today."

The wandmaker sighed and leaned against the counter, letting her wife cuddle against her.

"She needs to eat, Brittany."

"I know," the blonde whispered, propping her chin on Santana's shoulder. "I'll make her something later and leave it on her bed, but I still wouldn't expect her to eat it. She's heartbroken right now; people tend to not be hungry when they're like that, you know."

"Yeah," Santana whispered as she closed her eyes and leaned her head against Brittany's. She's a fucking expert. "Of course, I know."


Puck stepped out of the fireplace into the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. Immediately, a paper plane memo landed on his shoulder and he could tell by just looking at the poorly folded wings and crumpled up nose that it had to be from Finn. He opened it up as he made his way to the lift and read over the short note informing him that Beiste wanted to speak to him later. He shoved the paper in his robe pocket and exited the lift on level five: the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He made a beeline towards the records hall, nodding politely to the wizards that passed him, and ran head on into Tina as she turned a corner right in front of him. The files and books that were cluttered in her arms all fell messily to the floor.

"Shit, Tina, I'm sorry," Puck said as he bent down to gather the papers and handed them to her. Tina gave him a small but utterly exhausted smile.

"It's okay," she said softly as she straightened out the papers in her arms. "I've been just all over the place today. Didn't get much sleep last night. Or any, really."

Puck eyed the names on some of the folders, one in particular, and felt a chill run down his spine, but on the outside he merely raised a curious eyebrow. "Doing some more research?"

"Ah, sort of," she said as she rubbed her eyes. "We caught a Death Eater in the woods outside of Vertic Alley last night after you and Finn got off of your shift."

Puck clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Really? Have they said anything?"

Tina leaned back against the wall and nodded her head with her eyes closed. "Gave him some Veritaserum. Told us everything. Beiste will tell you all about it."

"I see," Puck whispered as he watched Tina cover a yawn with her hand. She seemed to be on the very brink of sleep so he stayed silent for a few moments until he was sure she had dropped off. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder. "Tina."

The witch started and blushed. She shook her head apologetically. "Merlin, I'm sorry. What-what were you saying?"

"Nothing," Puck chuckled. "But, hey, do you think I could make a copy of these files? I'll drop them off at your cubicle, I promise. Besides, you look like you could use a little nap; you're not supposed to be in until noon, anyway."

Tina blinked at him before all but throwing the files and books into his arms with a relieved smile.

"If you take any notes I want a copy of them," she wrapped her robe tighter and more comfortably around her body. "Neat notes, please."

"Of course," he said as he juggled the papers in his arm. "Now, go to bed. You're obviously exhausted if you're falling asleep in the middle of having a conversation with me."

"Hush up," Tina shoved his shoulder playfully and then waved at him as she turned to leave. "Thanks, Puck. I owe you."

"No problem," he said and watched her walk slowly down the hall, using the wall as a support. He looked down at all of the vital stroke-of-luck information in his hands and smirked.

Like taking candy from a fucking baby.

He strolled down the hall until he entered the Reference Library and walked straight to the service counter. He rang the tiny bell several times with a shit eating grin to the glaring man sitting right behind the desk.

"Rory Flanagan, my favorite Irishman."

"You know exactly one Irishman, Puckerman," the wizard said with a roll of his eyes and stood up from his desk, "and that's me. What can I help you with?"

Puck placed everything in his arms on the counter top and shook hands with him. "I've come to pick that little foreign brain of yours for information."

Rory frowned. "Hey, look mate, I already told you guys everything I kn – "

"Flanagan," Puck interrupted softly, taking a quick scan around them and lowering her voice, "this isn't Ministry business. This is a, uh, private conversation."

Rory raised his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Ohhh," the wizard looked around before putting a sign on the counter that said 'Be Back Later'. He motioned for Puck to follow him into his small office, closing the door behind them. He sat down behind another desk, reached into one of the drawers, pulled out a bottle of Ogden's Old and, with a flick of his wand, slid a whiskey on the rocks over to Puck. "So, what's up?"

Puck took a sip of his drink and placed his feet on top of the desk, leaning leisurely back into his chair.

"How was your time in the Ministry back in Britain?"

Rory sighed. "Come on. This is the 'personal' conversation you wanted to have?"

"Dude, just roll with it."

"Fine," Rory rolled his eyes and sipped his drink. "It was shit. Why do you think I transferred here?"

Puck chuckled and nodded his head. It was practically common knowledge that the British Ministry was full of corruption, as was every Ministry in the world. The only difference is that the corruption in America was usually for selfish, but relatively harmless power or money and the corruption in Europe was leaning towards genocide. A muggle born like Rory would do well to get out of there as quickly as possible. The Auror reached into his pocket and pulled out the front page of the Daily Prophet with all of the Azkaban escapees that the whole department received the very day of the incident.

"Have you been keeping up with what's been going on across the pond?"

Rory nodded. "I get the Daily Prophet every day, but they're so stuck in denial it's like reading poor, boring fiction. I've got buddies who send me real updates; just recently they sent me an issue of the riveting new Quibbler about You Know Who's return as told form the eyes of the famous Harry Potter. "

Puck was intrigued. "And what did the Ministry have to say about that?"

"Well, the Ministry's ignoring it completely, of course," he said, taking a longer sip of his drink. "The Quibbler's known for being nothing more than a load of shit most of the time so a lot of people are taking the story with a grain of salt. But there are still powerful bunches of us that know otherwise and sooner or later everyone else is going to feel like a fucking fool."

"Well, I'm happy to not have to deal with a fucking fool," Puck said with a small smirk and tossed the front page in front of Rory on his desk. "What can you tell me about these escapees?"

Rory stared hard at the paper. In truth, most of the wizards were so much older than him, the only things he ever knew about them were word of mouth and things he learned from the papers. No one's ever asked him something like this.

"Most of them were known to be in You Know Who's inner circle. I think a few of them were even some of the very first. All of them are known powerful Death Eaters really, except . . . " he trailed off and dropped his fingers to the young brunette witch whose picture avoided his eyes, "this one. Rachel Berry."

Puck looked down at the paper, the witch wanted for mass murder, and arched an eyebrow. Compared to all of the other escapees, this Rachel Berry, had one of the most colorful crimes listed. Much more colorful than Quinn's. "Really? Then what was she?"

Rory let out a small, dry laugh. "She was muggle born. And very proud of it."

Puck arched an eyebrow; that was unexpected.

"Then what made her kill all of those people? Was she just, like, crazy?"

Rory actually chuckled as he shook his head in the negative.

"I went to Hogwarts with her," he confessed, letting a small smile show on his face. "She's a couple of years older than I am and was the Head Girl my first year as a Prefect. I've never seen her be anything less than incredibly intelligent and level headed in all my years of knowing her, despite the dark times that we grew up in."

"Then what? Imperious curse?"

Rory scratched at the stubble on his chin, absently making a note to himself to shave, and stared intently at the only face on that paper that he knew personally. He shook his head again and sighed.

"Listen, she killed a lot of wizards that one night, all at once, by herself, butshe knew exactly what she was doing. These weren't just slackers or bums, these were powerful people both in ability and in status, very well respected among the idiotic and ignorant community that seems to be the majority over there. And we, the few that had our eyes opened, all fucking knew that they were really kneeling to You Know Who." Rory drained his glass and nearly slammed it down in his lingering frustration with his Ministry. He looked up at a very attentive Puck. "Regardless of what the papers or the Ministry wants anyone to believe, Rachel Berry did nothing more than kill the Death Eaters who ruined her life."

The Auror sat back in his chair and glanced down at the paper. This witch . . . could actually help answer some of his questions. "What did they do to her?"

Rory frowned at the memory of the two wizards he and his family remembered fondly.

"She was adopted by Hiram and Leroy Berry. One was a healer and the other was an Auror who were both very respected in their own rights, but in return had their fair share of harassers," Rory arched his eyebrow and gave Puck a significant look. "I'm sure you can put two and two together."

Puck let out a breath and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. It just didn't make sense to him why this witch would be included in a group like this.

"I don't get it," he said rubbing at his forehead. If this story of Rachel Berry was true, then Santana Brittany's defense of Quinn might not be as farfetched as has assumed. He could feel himself becoming incredibly frustrated with the other Ministry. "If all of these people knew what you know, why would they imprison her for so long? Why didn't anyone come to her defense?"

"Because that's how the Ministry worked, Puckerman," Rory spelled it out for him, almost harshly. "Not that the times now are a ton better, but this happened almost directly after the fall of You Know Who and the Ministry was a damn mess. It doesn't matter that she was just defending her fathers; she murdered those men intentionally, and at least two of them worked in the Ministry. You can't go around exacting your own bloody vengeance just to satiate your rage and desire; it doesn't work that way in a society that has wizards whose job is to bring people like them to justice. To not punish Rachel accordingly would cause pandemonium. And even if someone were to come to her defense, there were too many corrupted figures that would dispute their claims and proceed to make their lives a living hell. The Malfoys, the Fabrays, even that Umbridge witch; they have so much influence over the sheep in the Ministry, I wouldn't be surprised if the wizard trying to help Rachel ended up in Azkaban themselves."

Rory snatched up the bottle and poured himself another drink. It always angered him when he thought about his old friend. Merlin, she even helped him meet his current wife. He knew Rachel was destined for great things and for that to be ripped from her as harshly as it was just broke his heart. And now the new wanted signs like the one in the paper were playing her out to be some sort of heartless, mindless murderer.

Rachel didn't deserve that.

Puck's interest had peaked at the mention of the Fabrays, but was able to contain it. He downed the rest of his drink and glanced at Quinn's emotionless face on the paper. He pointed at her. "I'm guessing the Fabrays have lost a lot of influence since she was arrested."

"Well, yes, because the man with the power, Russell Fabray, was killed by her," Rory answered absently as he drank from his cup.

Now that was intriguing. Puck crossed his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Rory shrugged as he poured Puck another drink and then put the bottle back in his bottom drawer. "I never met them personally, sometimes we might all be in the same place by chance and I see or hear them, however mostly what I know is just the rumors and what I read in the papers. From what I understand about that night . . . you ever hear what happened to the Longbottoms?"

Puck shook his head. "Never heard of them."

"They were a couple of famous British Aurors back in the day who were tortured with the Cruciatus until they lost their minds," he finished his drink again, twirling the glass on the table. "Mr. Fabray did that to his wife and Quinn promptly killed him. But honestly," he leaned forward in his chair, "I'm sure she had just been waiting for a big enough reason."

"How do you know that?" Puck asked him, wondering why it was that everyone insisted on defending the Death Eater that no one knew. "You just said you've never met them."

Rory rolled his eyes. "I didn't need to meet them. They flaunted themselves about like they were better than everyone else; Mr. Fabray cared about nothing more than the spotlight and how he looked in it. Seeing and hearing them from a distance was enough to feel like you've been their best friend for years. No one needed to know them to know them, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah. I think I do," he said, tapping his finger on the rim of his glass. "So what makes you say that about that Quinn girl?"

Rory frowned. He thought back to the moments that he actually got a good look at the mysterious beauty that was Quinn Fabray, which was so rare it was like discovering a Nargle.

"Her eyes," he said as he stared down at the gaunt, but still gorgeous witch who turned to stare blankly up at him when he spoke. "The Fabrays were known to be a bunch of fucking loud mouths. Always bragging about something. Mr. Fabray loved to talk your ear off about his 'perfect' little family, the oldest daughter would inform anyone who would listen about their damned pure blood and even Judy Fabray, probably the kindest of them all, had no problem boasting about their wealth at any given moment. But I think everyone could agree that if Quinn wasn't as beautiful or as intelligent or as powerful as she was, no one would have even noticed that she was there."

Puck furrowed his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that to really know Quinn Fabray, you had to know Quinn Fabray. So while the rest of her family is off running their mouths, she gave you nothing more than a look, if that. And when you did catch her eyes, you were met with a look of pure apathy," he shook his head and tapped Quinn's emotionless face; an accurate representation of the witch that he remembered. He traced a finger over her crime. "But when she looked at her father there was this quick flash of disdain in her eyes and everyone could see it. It was only a matter of time before she snapped."

Puck downed his drink, wincing slightly as it burned down his throat. He pulled the paper over and folded it back up, shaking his head.

"You speak rather fondly of two witches that are wanted for murder and participated in the biggest prison breakout in history."

Rory shrugged and chuckled. "Don't tell anyone this, but I believe, if the rumors are true, we might just consider the possibility of speaking fondly about them – "

"Rumors?" Puck snapped his eyes up, his legs beginning the tremble anxiously. "What rumors?"

Rory frowned and tilted his head in confusion. Was that a trick question? "You don't know?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Puck said softly, grabbing the files off of the desk and taking a look at the names on the folders again. Was shit about to get just that much harder for him? "What's going on?"

The Irishman furrowed his eyebrows, dropping his eyes to the folders in Puck's hands. He shook his head.

"I only know the rumors, mate. He said/she said stuff, you know?" He explained with a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders. "You'll have to talk to Beiste about it to get the real scoop. Or maybe even read those papers you've got in your arms."

Puck looked up at Rory who looked pointedly down at the folders and he nodded absently. The Auror stood up and popped a mint into his mouth from the glass bowl on Rory's desk.

"Yeah, I think I should go do that. I'm suddenly feeling very behind," he shook Rory's hand. "Thanks for the help, man. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he said as he waved his wand, making the glasses disappear. "You keep me posted and I'll tell all of their dirty little secrets you want to know."

Puck smirked and nodded before turning to leave. When the door closed behind him and he walked back down the hall towards the elevators, the smile dropped from his face as a cold dread crept into his chest.

Shit.


Quinn strode toward the Durmstrang castle with her broom propped over her shoulder, welcoming the snow that drifted softly onto her warm face, flecking her blood red robe and black pants. The soothing sound of the ice crunching underneath her boots was almost lulling her to sleep. The sun was just setting beyond the mountains and the torches leading up the large stone entrance steps were beginning to light as she passed them. Whispers of gossip followed her when she walked past the other students, hardly any of it in English, but she could still understand the majority and she gladly ignored them. Just as long as they didn't attempt the confront her, which only one person had the galls to do. She could hear the running footsteps approaching from behind her and she let a rare small smile show on her face.

Her only friend.

"Quinn. You fucking bitch."

The witch chuckled and turned to look sideways at an exhausted, red faced Sam.

"I was beginning to think I lost you," she teased quietly. Sam straightened out his fur trimmed cloak that had become askew in his rush to catch up and scowled at Quinn.

"You cheated," he said, leaning his broom on his shoulder as he caught his breath.

"I did not cheat."

Sam smiled. "You tripped me."

"Did not. You're clumsy."

The wizard shook his head and laughed, knocking sideways into Quinn. When they entered the castle doors, two house elves were there immediately to take away their brooms and put them in their separate dorms. There were more students crowding up the hallway waiting for the start of dinner and conversation seemed to pause as they passed and Quinn watched several eyes drop down to the sleeve of her robe that covered her newly marked arm. She eyed them challengingly, daring any of them to say a word, and their eyes turned away in a hurry. She had always loathed such attention, but now it was almost too annoying. Finally, Sam sneered at a group of young boys that were blatantly gossiping about them, whipped out his wand and pointed it to his own throat.

"Do you have something to fucking say?" he hissed at them in what was English to Quinn, but came out Russian to the boys and Bulgarian to a group of girls who were watching them across the hall. The boys scurried away with their heads down and, at Quinn's cold glare, the eavesdroppers quickly followed them. Sam watched them leave with a scowl. "Stupid bloody kids."

Quinn almost wanted to smile and began to slowly make her way to the dining halls. She knew he was just trying to protect her, even if he had his own reservations about her recent development.

"Relax," she whispered to him.

Sam followed her, grumbling angrily as they gave their cloaks to another house elf, but seemed to calm as they leisurely walked along. They were just killing time as they strolled the vast bottom level of the castle, neither too keen on getting stuck in the ravenous crowd when the dining doors opened. Usually it was the upperclassmen that still lingered in the halls for a few minutes after dinner started and Quinn and Sam perched themselves on the ledge of one of the large windows where a good handful of their classmates were waiting for the bustle to settle down. Quinn leaned her head against the window and watched as the snow fell even harder from the sky. She still felt like she wanted to go flying, even if just to get out of the castle.

To get away from all of the eyes.

"Hey," Sam nudged her out of her thoughts.

"Hmm?" she hummed distractedly as she drew on the pane of the windows.

"Have you met the new transfer student?"

Quinn snapped her eyes to Sam who was staring off towards a group of their classmates. There, in black robes that stood out in the small crowd of red, was her. Quinn slid slowly off the windowsill and took a tiny, unconscious step towards her.

"No," she whispered, "not yet."

Sam stood up behind her and brushed the dust from his robes.

"Well, I hear she's nice," he mumbled nonchalantly and patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, I'm starved. The herd should've thinned by now."

Quinn nodded and let him walk off without her while she made her way over to the girl. With a sweeping glare, the rest of the group scurried off after Sam. The girl turned around in surprise, but then a beautiful smile blossomed on her face when she looked up at Quinn.

"Hello."

The blonde let her eyes trail down to the white shirt covered by a black buttoned up sweater with a loosened blue and bronze tie around the neck, short black skirt and knee highs. She took a step forward until they were almost toe to toe and felt this desperate need to grab her hand just to touch her. She dragged her gaze back to the warm brown eyes and cleared her throat.

"You shouldn't be here."

Rachel arched her eyebrow and crossed her arms. "I have just as much of a right to an education as you do."

"Your blood is not pure," Quinn whispered. "They don't allow mu – "

"Allow what?" Rachel hissed indignantly into Quinn's face. "Mudbloods?"

Quinn pursed her lips and gave a minute shake of her head.

"Muggle-borns to attend here," she finished quietly, watching as Rachel's face seemed to soften for a second before hardening again. Rachel took a tiny step backwards.

"Well, I'm here anyway," the brunette mumbled, dropping her eyes to the floor, "So, if you'll excuse me . . ."

When Rachel tried to brush by, Quinn grabbed her around the waist and pressed her against the wall. Rachel gasped when her back hit the cold stone and the blonde's very warm body melded completely against hers. Quinn buried her nose into the crook of the shorter witch's neck and breathed in the delectable scent, surprising even herself when she purred.

She was still getting used to that.

As she nipped at the tan neck, she felt the soft rumble of Rachel's own purr followed swiftly by a breathy giggle. Small hands rose up to tangle in her hair, scratching at her scalp and causing her to purr again.

"Quinn."

The blonde's heart kicked against her ribcage at the whisper and she leaned back to capture Rachel's lips in a searing kiss. It didn't last too long and when they pulled away the hall was completely empty. They leaned their foreheads together as they caught their breath and Quinn bumped her nose against Rachel's.

"You really shouldn't be here, you know," she said, squeezing her arms tighter around Rachel's waist. "It's not safe."

"I'm not worried," Rachel smirked and cupped Quinn's cheek. "I have you with me."

Quinn gave a sad smile and closed her eyes, nuzzling back into the crook of the brunette's neck.

"I'm not very safe either."

Rachel sighed and buried face into the soft blonde tresses. "Will you let anyone hurt me?"

Quinn growled and shook her head.

"Of course not."

Rachel smiled and kissed the side of her head, wrapping her arms around her neck. She kept her lips against blonde hair.

"Will you hurt me?"

If it were possible, Quinn's arms tightened around Rachel's waist. That was her recurring nightmare: hurting Rachel. It killed her to think of it. She placed a small kiss on the warm neck before leaning up to lean their foreheads back together.

"Never."


A/N: I love writing dreams. I kind of miss it. Originally, only a few of New Directions was going to make an appearance in this story…but it looks like almost all of them will eventually make an appearance in some capacity. Anyway I hope you all can be patient with me. I'm trying to write as fast as possible. A quick thank you to those that had reviewed during my hiatus with "hurry your ass up" messages...they really made me hurry my ass up.

This site sure has changed a lot since I've last updated…