Poison Fairytales

Chapter 10: Enraptured

By: Jondy Macmillan

A/N: Just for the record, JK Rowling totally stole my idea about infiltrating the ministry.

I'm serious. But whatever, I'll work around it. *laughs*

Disclaimer: The characters and Willowcrest are mine, the world of Harry Potter is not. It belongs to JKR who I worship. But am upset about cause of the whole stealing my idea. Seriously, go look, its in the earlier chapters of PF, which were published pre-July. I know, I know, I'm full of it.

Serendipity arranged for the meeting in her office. She left the door open, and instructed Casey on how to lock up. And then, like a thief, she stole out of her department and into the streets of London, into the waiting arms of her husband.

"Long day?" he asked mildly, looking exhausted himself.

"Kind of," she admitted, "Is take out okay?"

"Of course," Polaris grinned, letting her know that she could have suggested dirt and snails for dinner and he'd be alright with it. He loved her that much.

"How was your day, honey?"

He yawned, "Practice was awful."

"It must have been. The entire ocean must have poured out of the sky today," Serendipity looked ruefully at the wet pavement beneath her designer boots.

"I think there's still some left," he laughed, pointing at the sky, "Look."

A fat droplet of water fell right on the tip of her nose, rolling down over her lips and chin before she could wipe it away. Its brothers and sisters quickly followed, divine floodgates releasing yet another onslaught of rain.

Serendipity sighed, touching the frizz that her hair had become in the humidity, "I look awful."

"You look gorgeous," Polaris corrected, putting his arm around her, "How about we walk back home rather than apparate?"

"In this weather?" Serendipity exclaimed.

"We don't spend enough time together walking."

"You're daft," she laughed as he pulled her along, splashing through puddles like a little boy. She had planned to tell him about the meeting, and how she was worried what might happen, and how the future looked darker every day. She had planned to spew her worries like emotional vomit to her constant guardian and lover. Looking at his childish smile as he pranced through the rain, the gray sky so bright that there had to still be some iota of sunlight backing them, Serendipity decided her worries could wait. She was going to dance in the rain, all the way home.

"Nice digs Sere's got herself," Casey murmured to no one, striding into Serendipity's office with not an ounce of stealth. He settled himself in her big leather chair and started fiddling with the solid gold globe on her desk. Every time he touched his wand to a location it would mention interesting local facts and project holographic images of all these exotic places had to offer.

He didn't even notice his brother come in. Some auror Casey Hargrove was.

"Casey," Conrad said softly, his voice slicing through the darkness.

Casey jumped to his feet, wand ready, Serendipity's chair falling to the floor in a whirl of spinning wheels and soft torn dragon skin. When he recognized his brother he swore slightly, "Jesus and Merlin, boy. Don't scare me like that."

Conrad shrugged, "It's not my fault you were daydreaming. I didn't sneak in or anything."

"That is entirely not the point," Casey retorted.

"You were expecting me," Conrad pointed out, "I believe that's the only reason you're here."

Casey narrowed his eyes, "Fine. You win. We have more important things to talk about anyway."

Conrad found a seat on the ledge of the picture window that looked out on the currently empty streets of London while Casey righted Serendipity's expensive chair and settled himself once more. They eyed each other levelly, each wondering what the other was going to throw at them. Casey set his wand on Serendipity's desk; he knew he wouldn't need it, but it never hurt to have close by.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about," Conrad said finally, sighing. He already knew all the reasons Casey wanted to talk to him, mostly, and he couldn't quite figure out why he'd decided to come. In truth, he'd missed his brother. He missed a lot of things, and a lot of people. But most of the time he was slaving away for Gradaver so long that he didn't have time to think or miss or feel, and that was the way Conrad liked it.

Casey rolled his head around, cracking his neck. He wasn't really thinking about what he wanted to say; he'd rehearsed it already. He just felt like making the mood more tense, to remind him that his brother was now the enemy. This wasn't some casual encounter. Casey missed the old days when he thought wars were fought on the streets and strategic secret meetings between opposite sides only happened when there were traitors in you midst.

"Why did you leave, baby brother?"

"You really think I'll tell you?"

Half amused, Casey responded, "Not really. I didn't even expect you to show up, if we're being honest."

Conrad cursed himself inwardly for not fulfilling his elder brother's expectations. If he hadn't showed up, he wouldn't have to deal with this.

"So?" he prompted, "I'm here. Speak."

"You're coming back," Casey replied casually.

"Are you going to make me?" Conrad idly glanced at his brother's wand. It was resting right next to his hand. Casey could probably stun Conrad before he had a chance to get his own. He was a fully trained auror, after all. Conrad was just a Willowcrest dropout.

"No. That might require hurting you."

"And that would be problematic?"

"You're my baby brother. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you," he pointed out, tilting his glasses so that he could see Conrad better, "It goes against my blood to try to hurt you."

Conrad shifted guiltily, changed the subject to the one that might hurt his brother, "Prue says hi."

"I'm sure she does," Casey crossed his arms, a flash of something crossing his face that Conrad only half understood, and then added softly, "How is she?"

"She's…alright. She's strong. They all are. They don't let things get them down."

"Oh. Do you want to know how-"

"No. I can't- I mean I don't."

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to know how your brother is."

"Oh. Chaunce," Conrad winced, like he'd forgotten his own twin, "Is he alright?"

"Well he did mention something about having a slimy smarmy berky git of a brother, but he might have been talking about me," Casey reclined the chair thoughtfully, "He's at some pub in London now. With Harper and Agate."

Conrad winced as Casey said Harper's name, but all he asked was, "Agate? He's at Willowcrest?"

"Chauncey owled him. I guess he thought he could help out with…everyone's been really down since you left, baby brother."

"They'll survive."

"If that's what you think."

"So you called me here to discuss friends and family?"

Casey chuckled, "You're so impatient. Am I freaking you out?"

"A little. I keep looking around for some hidden squad of aurors you have hidden in the curtains."

Scrutinizing the curtains Casey muttered, "They'd have to be bloody skinny to fit in there."

"Think you're clever, don't you?" Conrad groaned.

Smirking, Casey answered, "I am clever. And I called you here to see if I could figure out what they did to you."

"Have you?"

"No," the older boy admitted, "But I have an inkling of an idea."

"I hope that helps you out then," Conrad turned to go.

"You really won't come back on your own? We really have to be enemies?"

"We don't have to be enemies if you just surrender. I think Prue would like that," Conrad told him, shoving a hand through his thick red hair. He was wearing it down now, just like Chauncey always did. That was Casey's first clue that maybe Conrad wasn't completely himself.

Casey grinned, but when he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous, "Then you don't know anything at all about Prue. She's fighting, better than you have."

"I fought. It just stopped seeming worth it."

"So you'd say you lost the will to fight?"

Conrad winced, "Are you psychoanalyzing me?"

"I might be. Come to Mum's birthday party."

"He might be," Conrad mocked, and then started, "What?"

"Mum's birthday. It's this weekend. She's having the same party she always does. There won't be any aurors there other than me. Come."

"What, a trap?"

"No. I give you my most solemn oath. I'd make an ubreakable vow even."

"Mum knows I left Willowcrest."

"I'll tell her you came back. I'll tell her not to pry."

"Like that will work. Its Mum, remember?"

Casey's eyes danced, "Come on, Conrad. It would mean a lot to her. Just for a few minutes even. Then you can go back to planting the seed of evil or destroying the ministry from within, or whatever it is you wicked henchmen like to do."

Indignant, Conrad snapped, "I am not a wicked henchman."

"So you're not just Gradaver's tool? He needs you?"

Conrad couldn't answer that.

"I'll see you soon."

"At Mum's party?" Casey asked.

Conrad flipped his brother an impolite gesture and vanished. Casey meanwhile, returned to playing with the globe. Now that certainly was interesting. It narrowed down the choices, at least.

"Why are we here again?" Benvolio yelled over the pounding music of the pub. It wasn't like any pub he'd ever seen, with these strange lights that Harper told him were called neon lining all the walls, and long tanks full of water and darting electric colored fish stretching across the underside of the bar.

Which Harper Valente was currently doing an extremely provocative pole dance on top of. Benvolio sighed, watching the dark haired girl drop to her knees, her low slung jeans only riding lower and lower on her hips. He wished he had robes to cover her with. She was sloshed out of her mind, and aside from the jeans that just barely concealed her unmentionables, she also sported a top that could barely be called one, and her cleavage was straining to burst out. He felt scandalized by the sight.

"Relax, mate," Agate slung his arm around Benvolio's shoulder, and the brunette resisted the urge to shove it off and inform the healer that he was not his 'mate'.

"We're here because Harpy wanted to get her groove on. On top of a bar. Which the other pubs wouldn't let her do. But this lounge is rocking! Woo hoo, yeah Valente! You work that bar top!" Chauncey proceeded to cat call Harper, who only attempted to pull him up with her. The bartender allowed Chauncey to get away with a pathetic attempt at dancing for a minute before pushing him off and telling him that ladies were the only ones allowed to dance up there. And so Harper found a new partner in the form of a slight brunette bird with a microscopic dress that kept riding up to reveal her purple knickers.

"Sexy," Agate called out, to which Harper and the girl beamed in reply.

Benvolio had never even been to a bar before Agate visited. He couldn't imagine what his mother would say if she found out. Yet this was at least the fifth pub he'd been to, just tonight. He'd thought perhaps Harper and Chauncey had gotten their fix of drinking themselves into oblivion and dancing on bar tops the last time, but apparently not. At least this time they weren't doing it under the guise of looking for Conrad.

Chauncey offered him a shot of something noxious, which he turned down. Agate snatched it up, and soon the two boys were having a rousing game of seeing who could get piss arse drunk first. Chauncey was already three sheets to the wind, and with that considerable lead Benvolio had decided the game was hardly fair. Neither boy seemed to mind.

Harper attempted to climb down from the slippery wet surface of the bar, nearly falling with one misstep of her turquoise stiletto. Before he even knew he'd made to move, Benvolio had caught her.

Giggling hysterically, Harper squealed, "Thanks Ben! You're the best."

"Er," Benvolio blushed, "Not really."

"Harper!" Agate belched loudly, "Shots!"

"Ooh!" Harper jumped out of Benvolio's arms and hurried to her friend's side. For the umpteenth time, Benvolio wondered why he was there. Not just in that particular bar, with their bar top strip pole, but in London at all. Chauncey and Prue had begged Casey for an opportunity for leave, and the elder Hargrove hadn't seen fit to deny them. Benvolio could tell that Professor Hargrove felt awful for Conrad's absence. He was sure that he even blamed himself.

Conrad of course, was the root of the problem. He was the reason why Chauncey and Harper had decided that rather than deal with their abandonment issues, they'd rather get plastered and publically embarrass themselves. While Benvolio wasn't completely fine with his friends self destructing this way, he'd be a lot finer with it if they hadn't dragged him along. He should have played it cool like Avarick and said that he had better things to do than throw back shots with a bunch of lunatics. Although Avarick had phrased it more politely, saying that she wished she could, but her mum was visiting. Actually, Benvolio had seen a rather attractive older blonde woman in Harper's room earlier. Maybe Avarick's excuse hadn't been one at all. Still, Benvolio crossed his arms, he couldn't believe that he was here.

He often wondered in the past few months if he would have promised Conrad that he'd take care of Harper had he known that the redhead would leave. He'd known something was wrong. He'd known he should have tried arguing, or talking Conrad out of whatever zany idea had been going on in the boy's brain. In that way, Conrad's leaving was just as much his fault as it was anyone else's.

Three months ago, Benvolio would have killed to have Harper hanging all over him, drunk or not. The few weeks they'd dated, he'd been in a kind of personal heaven. Even the fact that he knew she didn't love him didn't affect his feelings for her. When she dumped him, he resented her. He loathed her even more than Conrad, and he hated himself even more than her. He had known it was coming, but she still shouldn't have jolted him out of his happiness so abruptly.

He didn't want to take care of this drunken broken girl.

"Ben!" Harper sang, "Come on, stop being such a party pooper."

He scowled, "I'm not being a-"

"Yes you are," Chauncey cut him off, "You're thinking too much."

Agate chuckled, "Well that won't do. The entire point of this expedition is to not think."

Benvolio glared at the auburn haired boy, who casually offered him a shot. He took it with a look of distaste. Staring down in the small glass cup full of a golden liquid that smelled vaguely like rubbing alcohol, Benvolio decided he was sick of being the odd one out. He wanted to forget himself too.

Twenty minutes later, Benvolio was spewing his guts out in the loo.

Apologetically, Agate said, "Well, how was I supposed to know he couldn't hold his liquor?"

Harper glared at him, "Its Ben. Does he look like a heavy drinker?"

"Fine, fine," Agate held up his hands defensively, "I'm the responsible one. I'm the healer. I'll go give him a charm."

Chauncey patted his friend's back sternly, "That's right mate, you go do that. Meanwhile, Harpy and I will guard the shots."

When Agate disappeared, Chauncey turned to Harper, "Haaaarpy, have another shot with me."

"Okay," she chirped, demanding more from the frazzled bartender. He considered refusing, but had already attempted to do so twice with this lot and earned himself some extremely uncomfortable boils.

Harper downed the shot, something glistening in her eye that she wiped away before anyone saw. Except Chauncey was more observant than he liked to let on.

"You didn't listen to me last time," Chauncey said out of the blue.

"Listen to you?" Harper asked, twirling the shot glass in her fingers.

"Yeah," Chauncey frowned, "I told you that you'd be okay."

He pressed a finger into the center of her chest and cast her a weary smile, much like he'd done a the bar so many nights ago. Harper frowned. She thought he'd been too drunk to remember.

"I'm listening. It's just hard."

"I know," he replied, walking away to check on Benvolio and Agate. Harper glanced at herself glumly in the mirror framing all the multi colored bottles behind the bar. She had glammed herself up to go out bar hopping, but she didn't look like it. She looked miserable and drunk.

Agate ended up carrying Harper into her room. He'd dropped of Chauncey and Benvolio first, his back straining with their weight. He was a healer in training, and this so wasn't part of the job description.

He nearly cracked open Harper's head on the doorframe. He practically tripped over Avarick on the way to Harper's bed. He did fall setting her down, his body hitting hers on the way down to the comforter. Winded, Agate laid on top of Harper, who only moaned and attempted to turn on her side.

He tried to push himself up, his hand catching beneath her shirt. He ran his fingers over her abdomen, appreciating the soft skin there.

"What are you doing?" Avarick asked, sitting up from her bed. Apparently the half trip over her bed had woken her.

"What's it look like?" Agate asked dryly.

"Like you're going to rape my friend. Or try, again."

"I would never," Agate drawled.

Avarick blinked, "How long have you had this thing for her?"

"Mm. Since fifth year. We dated for a while in sixth, during one of the golden couple's many breaks."

"I didn't know that."

"Eh. It wasn't going anywhere," Agate tucked Harper deep into her comforter, and a soft smile flitted over her face, "She only ever had eyes for Conrad. Even when she dated me, even when she dated a few other guys. Same went for Con; he only liked Harper, despite all his other girls. They were so confused, thinking that they couldn't have found each other so young, trying to be who they wanted, and all the while they constantly gravitate back to each other."

Avarick sighed, "That's so romantic. I wish my life was like that."

"I've heard it kind of is. You and Merlin Pembroke-"

Avarick's face hardened, "Merlin Pembroke can die and rot, for all I care."

"Ookay, I guess my sources were wrong."

"Yeah," Avarick glanced at the sky, "It's getting light out. You better scurry out."

"I'm going," Agate made sure that Harper was comfortable, but she was out like a light, snoring slightly.

"Sorry about you know, everything," Avarick muttered, going back to sleep.

Agate shrugged, "It's alright."

Casey answered the door to Willowcrest in the midst of a thunderstorm at one in the morning. He'd had a rough day; none of the aurors in training seemed to care about their lessons on muggle automobiles, and he'd heard they'd been pretty surly in their other classes as well. He'd had to help Professor Buckland break up a fight between Eranthe Demontico and Zillah Carew that included some nasty wand work and some shape changing. They'd both been punished of course, but they refused to talk about what had started the fight. Casey couldn't think what it could be; both Eranthe with her ex-Slytherin background and Zillah with her Trueblood roots should technically have got along.

And now his late night moping was interrupted by loud banging on the door. He didn't understand why Wilhelm or Audra couldn't ever climb off their butts and answer the door. At least Chalcedony and Noah were on a mission in London, so he couldn't blame them.

When the door swung back, Casey blinked. Then he blinked again, "Aunt Shailly?"

"How is my favorite nephew doing?" Shailly Hargrove threw her arms around Casey's broad shoulders, her eyes wrinkling in a smile.

"What are you doing here Aunt Shailly?"

"I heard what happened to Conrad. I came to help. Plus your mother would have shot me if I missed her birthday party."

"Okay," Casey didn't bother to ask the petite woman how exactly she could help. Instead he asked, "But what are you doing here, at Willowcrest?"

"Well, I didn't want to be a burden on Arcadia, so I figured you could put me up for the rest of the week."

"Er- I don't know if we have room," Casey murmured.

Shailly's light blue eyes narrowed, "Nonsense, boy. I'm staying, and that's all there is to it. Now it's pouring out here, let me in."

Casey obligingly let Shailly in. She proceeded to take over his room and ensure that there was no way he'd ever get a good night's sleep. The tiny strawberry blonde made herself extremely comfortable on Casey's bed.

"Tell me what happened," she ordered.

Casey obliged, reciting how Conrad had been coerced into leaving in a way that they couldn't explain, mentioning how Prue, Elanore, and Frank had come back to life, Serendipity's theory on them never having died, and what exactly the state of the ministry was right now.

"We don't even know who's in power anymore. As far as we can tell, the only ministries that still seems to have any power at all are the Asian ones. But we can't usurp the power from the minister or his lackeys until we figure out what exactly is going on. We can't even tell whether they've been spelled yet. Their auror security is top level, and the only thing that's out of order is the way the minister keeps sending us on increasingly dangerous missions that conflict with the other ministries. However, the new minister has always been sort of a loose cannon, and when I last talked to Prue-"

"You're basing your information off your ex girlfriend?"

"She's not my ex," Casey murmured.

"What is she then?" Shailly prompted.

"I don't know," he retorted, "But yeah, I'm basing my information off her. Last time we spoke, they hadn't completely infiltrated the ministry. I think maybe they're going to throw the whole wizarding world into some sort of war, ministry against ministry."

"Have you told the department about your theory?" Shailly asked thoughtfully.

"Yeah. But I'm just a consultant on the case. They don't really listen to me."

Shailly grinned, "Maybe it's time to make them listen."

Arcadia Hargrove-Harcourt's birthday party was more of an elaborate extravaganza than any party Harper or Avarick had ever been to. Harper had been to the Hargrove mansion often enough to not be blown away by the arched entranceways, the long expanses of windows, and the silk furniture. Avarick on the other hand couldn't stop fussing over every little thing. Eventually Harper had to drag her out into the courtyard where the party was being held.

"It's beautiful," Avarick exclaimed.

It was true. The courtyard of the Hargrove mansion had always been beautiful. A white cobbled walkway lined with willows, its magnificence was obvious even without the rows of fairy lights and tables bulging with a feast fit feed a few third world countries. Harper sighed. She hadn't planned on coming to the party, but when Chauncey and Casey had prepared to step through the fireplace, Chauncey had decided to drag all his friends along. And so Agate, Harper, and Avarick, who desperately needed a boost after her nagging mother's visit and the pain of seeing Zillah and Merlin constantly snogging in the halls were invited. Benvolio was still practically bed ridden from his first hang over, although they were all pretty sure he was faking. It had been a week prior, after all.

Arcadia was a vision in a dark blue evening gown covered in sheer sparkling white scarves, with a diving back and a high neckline. Her thick red hair was braided up on the crown of his head, without even a hint of gray.

She greeted Harper with a sad smile, "Harper, it's lovely to see you!"

"Mrs. Harcourt," Harper grinned, "Do you remember Avarick?"

"Oh yes, we met at the ball, right?"

"Right," Avarick affirmed meekly.

"Thank you for coming to my party," Arcadia beamed.

The girls excused themselves to go rifle through the food tables. Avarick was wearing a dress the color of goldenrod, trimmed with golden thread. Harper's dress was tight; turquoise and purple geometric patterns intertwining.

Harper was piling her plate high with broiled pheasant and salted mango sticks when she saw Arcadia greeting a red headed boy with a huge smile. At first she thought it might be Casey or one of his older brothers, Cerulean or Cayan. Then she thought that the form was too slight, and had to be one of the little Hargroves; Corbett, Cattigan, or the older brother with the tiniest form Cherridy. She noticed the boy's longish hair as she stepped forward, and she was almost sure that it had to be Chauncey.

But Chauncey was standing next to Agate, chatting up some witch from the ministry with a waif like body and perfect teeth.

When the boy pulled away from his mother, who was laughing delightedly.

"Conrad," Harper gasped, her plate falling to the ground.

Avarick's head snapped up, "What, where?"

"Over there, with Mrs. Harcourt."

Eyes widening, Avarick gasped, "You're right."

Harper searched out Casey in the crowd. Running to him she gasped, "Casey. Con's here."

Casey sighed. His aunt had been driving him bonkers all week, and now he had to deal with this. He nodded, "I know. I invited him."

"You're going to keep him here, right? You're not going to let him leave?"

A sad look crossed Casey's face, "Not this time, Valente. I promised him he'd be safe here. It's a temporary truce. For my mum's sake."

Harper stomped her foot frustratedly, "That's not right."

"Valente, you're causing a scene."

"You can't just let him walk out of here."

"I can, and I will," Casey replied, a dangerous glint in his eye.

Harper scowled and strode away from him, straight to the other Hargrove brother she knew well enough to complain. She didn't promise Conrad would be safe, after all.

"Conrad's here," she tugged Chauncey away from the pretty witch. Agate followed obediently.

"He's what?"

Harper directed Chauncey's gaze over to where Conrad was conversing with the rest of the family. Casey was staying conspicuously absent from the conversation, as was his aunt Shailly, whom Harper had met earlier that week. She spotted her professor weaving through the crowd apparently in an attempt to avoid the smaller woman, who had a determined look on his face.

"Good, your brother's distracted," Agate said grimly. He dug something out of his pocket that looked like a pile of playing cards, "Take these. We'll keep him distracted."

"We?" Avarick squeaked, noticing that Agate was eyeing her. He laughed and told her that of course he meant her and him. Chauncey had to distract Conrad, after all.

"Yeah, this will be easy, like a Catholic school girl on a Saturday night," Chauncey grinned, "I'll distract Conrad into going to our room. Then you take care of our boy."

"Right," Harper nodded, feeling her stomach churn, "Easy peasy."

Chauncey strode up to Conrad with a warm smile, surprising his twin by throwing his arms around him. Conrad nervously accepted his brother's affection, and while the others couldn't hear what was said between the two boys, Chauncey managed to get him to leave the party and get up to their room with relative ease.

"I wonder what he said to him," Harper asked.

"Never mind that," Agate pushed her forward, "Go get him."

Avarick frowned at the auburn haired boy, "So what do those cards do?"

"Magic," Agate wiggled his fingers in front of the blonde, "Now come help me distract the rentals and the auror."

Harper found the twins in the room they shared between them. Walls covered in constellations offset their fiery hair as they sat on the bed, leaning over something that Harper couldn't see.

"Conrad," she said quietly. Conrad stiffened, and then jumped to his feet, turning on his brother.

"You brought her here?"

"Well, yeah," Chauncey smiled humorlessly.

"Why would you do that?"

"I was bored," Harper tilted her head, her fringe falling into her turquoise eyes.

Conrad was pacing in front of them, "Look, Harper."

Chauncey had come to stand next to her, and discreetly, Harper passed him the cards. Then she tackled him. Harper wasn't nearly as strong as Conrad, and it was only the shock of what was happening that kept him from apparating away. As it was, he fell to his knees, not ready for her added weight. Meanwhile, Chauncey threw the cards, creating a nearly perfect circle around them. They sliced through the carpet and only later did he realize that to his dismay they'd been standing on his side of the room. Mum was going to give him hell.

Still, the cards did what they were meant to do, creating a thin barrier between Conrad and Harper and the rest of the room. There was enough space that they could stretch out within the barrier, but not enough to leave the room or even reach the bed.

Conrad tried to move forward, not realizing what was happening. He shoved Harper off of him and she hit the floor with a loud 'oomph'.

He stumbled forward into the barrier, which threw him back against it, not letting him move.

"Chaunce," He yelped, "What the bloody hell did you do?"

Frantically Conrad pounded on the barrier, "You don't understand what you're doing, Chauncey, you have to let me go. You're my brother, please."

"I don't have to do anything, mate," Chauncey snarled, "And you should have thought of that before you left."

Harper placed her hand on Conrad's forearm, but he shook it off. Which was fine with her; she didn't want to comfort him. She just didn't know how long Agate's little shield would hold for.

"What do we do now?" She asked Chauncey, completely aware that she was ignoring the other twin.

"Well, the thing is, I don't know. Agate told me the shield would hold for quite a while, but we can't really leave you guys locked in my bedroom forever."

"Our bedroom," Conrad pointed out in a churlish voice.

The two aurors in training continued to act like he wasn't even there.

"So what do we do?"

"I talk to big brother and convince him to rescind on his promise."

"He won't do that," Conrad said quietly, "He made an oath."

"Fine," Chauncey stared directly at his twin, "Then, I talk to our other big brothers and we don't tell Casey anything about this. He can't go back on his oath if he doesn't know you're in trouble, can he?"

"So then we get them to help us transport into a cell at Willowcrest, and then we break the barrier?"

"Sounds like a plan. That way he won't be able to apparate out…" Chauncey scratched his chin thoughtfully, "I'll be back in half an hour or so. I'm going to get Avarick and Agate to help me brainstorm before I confront…hmm, Cerulean or Cayan? Cerulean, definitely. Cayan will want to be all touchy feely and emotional and spill the beans to Casey. You kids sit tight."

They watched Chauncey disappear in silence. Conrad had settled himself cross legged on the carpet and was nudging a magazine corner that had been caught in the barrier. The corner pages moved, but the bits outside the barrier stayed completely still. It looked like a porno too.

"Drat," Conrad swore, "You two are idiots, you know that right?"

"And you're a moron," Harper spun on him, ready to fight. She'd been ready to confront him for months, and she never thought she'd have a chance. She figured they'd have to enact Agate's ridiculously ballsy plan before they ever caught Conrad.

They glared at each other with vehemence, both hoping the other would back down and they wouldn't have to be so cruel.

"You're going to get hurt," Conrad told her.

"And you won't?"

"I'm a big boy."

Harper slapped him. Hard. She couldn't believe he was being so childish.

"Why won't you tell us what they did to make you leave?" slap "What did that complete hag do?" slap "Why wouldn't you ask for help?" punch "Are you stupid?" slap "Is it the imperius?" punch "Did they threaten your family?" slap "Did they threaten me?" punch "Or did you just want to leave?"

Eyes blazing, Harper pummeled her once boyfriend, who was technically still her boyfriend without him reacting. The biggest indication that he was in pain was a slight wince. Finally he grabbed her wrists with the utmost gentleness and whispered, "I chose this. Just leave it be, Harpy."

"No!" she shrieked, "Why should I? I deserve answers, don't I?"

"You do," he admitted, still holding fast.

"So?"

"So, I can't give them to you. I'm sorry. I don't know why I chose this, I just know its what I want to do."

"Imper-"

"It's not the imperius," he said, holding up a hand to stop her objections.

"Then what?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think killing people is right? Oh god, have you killed someone?"

Conrad shrugged, which only lead Harper to remember that she now had a free hand and she laid into him hard.

In an instant, he had her pinned to the plush blue carpet, his eyes boring a hole into her forehead. It reminded her that there was a reason Conrad had been accepted into auror school; a combination of strength, intelligence, and cunning. Harper blinked the spots out of her vision, hoping he hadn't just given her a concussion. She tried to free her legs, but he was leaning all his weight against them in either knee, his hands keeping her wrists motionless. Conrad was strong, stronger than she remembered. It was scaring her.

"Stop squirming," he commanded, but she refused to obey. She heard a rip that most likely meant her lovely dress, for all its purple and turquoise silk hadn't been able to hold up to a twenty year old boy. Sure enough, when she glanced down she saw that what little cleavage she had was spilling out the front of her once beautiful dress. To think, she thought sadly, I only wore it because I thought he'd think I looked pretty. It was odd; when she'd put the dress on, she really thought of Conrad, and thought that he would love it. She hadn't thought that he'd get to see it; Harper had almost given up on seeing him again. And now here he was, and their reunion was more violent than dreamlike.

Suddenly, without warning, Harper felt hot tears stream down the sides of her cheeks and over her ears. She tried to stop, but warm rush of them refused to be damned. Conrad got a strange look on his face, the one he used when he was thinking too much.

"Harpy," he let go of one wrist, which dropped limply to her side. His fingers brushed against her cheek, "Harper, stop crying."

"I can't," she replied shortly, her voice sounding winded. Realizing that she wasn't going to struggle, Conrad moved his knees from her thighs. She was sure her inner thighs would bruise from his weight, but she didn't shift, didn't dare breathe for fear he'd disappear.

"Why are you crying?" he asked more gently this time.

"I…" she knew that whatever she said, she'd sound lost and lonely, like a little girl. But she was lost and lonely, so maybe it would be okay, "I miss you."

Conrad inhaled sharply, like she'd hit him, "I don't-"

"Stop. Don't say anything. I don't want to hear you say that you don't miss me. I don't want to hear you tell me you don't love me. Do you understand? My heart can't take it. It will stop beating for the pain. I'll die, if you tell me that. I will, Con. I'll die."

He looked angry, like he wanted to argue. And he did. He wanted to tell her that she couldn't die whether he was there or not. It shouldn't make a difference. He wasn't that important. She was, she was too important to people, to him, to die. He wanted to tell her that he'd give this all up for her, but that he couldn't. It was impossible. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that of course he'd missed her and that he would never lie and say he didn't love her. He wanted to say a thousand different things, but even if he'd tried, they would have come out wrong. So he stayed quiet, laying down beside her on his back and then changing his mind and placing his head on her chest, listening to her heart. It was beating surprisingly calm, despite her tears.

They lay there like that for a long time.

Finally, he said, "Don't die."

Harper couldn't bring herself to ask why not. Instead, after a moment of silence she said, "I wore this dress in case I saw you. I hoped you'd be here. I…I wanted you to tell me I looked pretty. You joined an evil fucking cult, and I wanted you to say I looked-" she choked on a sob, "I wanted to see you. That's all I thought about. I didn't care how or why, just that I got to see you, now."

"Harpy, you know you always look pretty," Conrad said.

"You're just saying that."

"No," he lifted his head to meet her eyes, "You look beautiful. Especially tonight."

"This isn't going to end well, is it?" Harper asked, "You're not coming back."

"No," Conrad said carefully, "I'm not."

"And no matter who wins, one of us ends up dead. If you win, I'm dead-" she let loose a short peal of humorless laughter while Conrad gasped.

"You won't die. I won't let you."

"In which case you'll lose, and you'll die," she replied solemnly, "The case isn't in our hands anymore, Con. That crazy ex girlfriend of your brother's, the auror, she's out for blood. And so many others…"

"I won't die," he told her firmly.

"Do we have a future together Conrad?" Harper asked, and there were so many questions in her eyes that he didn't know how to answer.

"I don't know. The way things are now…I don't think so," he bit his lip, and it was as much an admission of what she'd just said, that things would end badly, as anything else.

"Lie to me."

"What?"

"Lie to me. Tell me our future. Tell me that it'll be amazing, that we'll get our dream house on the beach and have two lovely kids and a bunch of dogs, and that we'll grow old together and everything will be perfect. Tell me that you'll always be there for me, that you'll always protect me and take care of me."

"Harper…" Conrad said helplessly.

"I'll know it's not real. I'll know it's just pretend. So please, Con. Please, lie to me."

And so Conrad lied. He told her everything, about their amazing perfect life together. He described it right down to the socks in their drawers and what kind of toothpaste they'd use, and while he said it they both closed their eyes and believed, at least for that little while, that it would be true, if they wished it.

And after he told her, he seized her mouth with his, or maybe she instigated it, but neither ever recalled correctly. Their kisses were wet and sloppy at first because of Harper's tears and because it'd been so long. But soon they remembered each other's mouths, and the way they liked to be kissed, and the way they fit together just so. Then Conrad's jacket ended up on the floor as a pillow because it was just too damned hot and their kisses were just too wild that it would be a shame for it to rip. Next went his shirt because their skin needed to touch and the need was overwhelming. Harper's dress slipped off her body like the wrappings of a present, and if Conrad's gaze lingered for too long she only felt a glow of satisfaction for it.

Thank Merlin she'd worn her good lingerie.

His hands were insistent and his kisses hard, but there was still something careful in the way that Conrad stripped her of the last vestiges of her clothing. Her bra fell away like something too heavy and clumsy to actually be worn, and her breasts were soft and pliant beneath his hands and mouth. Her panties were pushed down her thighs, useless and unwanted. Her fingers trembled as she undid the buckle on his belt. Why at a time like this did he seem to have more grace than her? When he fell upon her, his skin was feverish. Their tongues wound together in a frenzied dance, his weight shifting over her, her legs wrapping around his waist, inviting him. When he pushed inside her for the first time in a long time, Harper knew he was real. He was real and he was here and this was happening, like it'd happened so many times before, but it was different, special, because despite their game of pretend it was the last time. As far as they knew, it was the last time.

So they were careful, so very careful, working around each other's bodies with precision, making each and every touch last. They wanted to be remembered. They wanted to imprint themselves on each other with hands and lips and fingers and skin and touch. Even when it started coming to an end, they went slow, taking their time with each other. At Conrad's final thrust, he collapsed on top of her and she clutched him as close as possible. She wouldn't let go, and he wouldn't move, and their bodies would be joined like this forever. And then maybe if they did move, it would be to go back to school. They'd graduate together and get jobs together but in different departments because they'd nag each other too much if they were always side by side. When work was done they'd come home to their perfect house on the beach; they'd be met with three wagging tails and four rosy cheeks. And even after those cheeks left on their own adventures with the dogs who were no longer puppies in tow, even after their hair had grown gray with time, Harper and Conrad would sit in the shade on their porch, each leaning against a pillar and looking not quite at each other but not quite at the sunset, holding hands and knowing that this was it. They would never feel more complete, and that was okay. They'd found their meaning in each other.

They fell into a dreamless sleep, but this dream was in the back of their minds. They could taste it on their tongues, mixed in with the salt of the other's tears.

As they slept, a dark figure stole into their room.

A/N: Duh duh duh! This chapter was initially planned out to be longer, but obviously I wrote the beginning and the end first and then filled in the middle. I think it's kind of obvious that I started losing steam there in. However, the Fish tells me that readers should be glad of it because it means the initial plans for the short next chapter have now been enlarged. Because trust me, I had at least another five pages planned out for this one. Want to know what?

-Still at Arcadia's party, Agate, Avarick, and Chauncey haul Cerulean and Orpheus up to the twins' room just as all hell breaks out. There's a surprise attack, but from who. The barrier leaves Harper and Conrad defenseless, and all their spells bounce back at them. However, spells can enter no problem.

-Aunt Shailly uses a surprising amount of insight to remind Casey what exactly it was that killed his father.

-The ever absent Prue makes a surprise appearance to save her new protégé, along with Elanore and Frank.

-In the aftermath of the party's destruction, Noah's whereabouts have been revealed. He returns gravely injured?!

-Elanore forces Joshua to watch her slaughter a whole bunch of people, with some comic relief from Warren and Salem.

-The beginning of the end.

There's only five chapters left, so I hope you're all enjoying it!

Want to see some Giddy Brew (and all its spin offs?) fanart?

.com ----My best friend's beautiful beautiful Giddy Brew art can be found in her gallery. Go look and adore.

.com ----my own less appealing art, but you know, at least the characters are accurate looking.

(if you search Giddy Brew on deviantart you can also find a few other pictures from an old Gaia Online contest my best friend conducted three or four years ago.)