Hello readers my old friends. I come with a promise that now I'm back on nights and back to work writing is going to resume at a faster pace one again. This past year has been rough and I'm still not completely well but I'm improving slowly and I always have time to talk to my readers and keep providing fresh content. Not a lot else to say I suppose, except to thank you for your ongoing support and maaaaaybe request a review from you if you have time? They're always the highlight, I love to know what people think of my work.

Content Warning: illegal acts, a cameo from everyone's favourite tree witch, the Mystery Deepens.


For all her concerns over borrowing the body of a pregnant muggle, Bonnie was still able to move with surprising speed. She took full advantage of that and left Marceline gaping after her as she hurried away down the rainy street towards the underground auction location. Marceline had described it as being 'something to do with cheese', Bonnie couldn't quite repress a snort to herself when she realised that the round stone building they were making for was actually an old fashioned butter market built long before the time of refrigeration. The dairy products had been stored in a cold underground chamber while merchants and customers haggled over the price above, she doubted any muggles had used it for its original purpose in at least fifty years. Bonnie found it a little unsettling that the place had been repurposed by the wizarding community, especially the criminal element. And she was part of that criminal element now, too. It was a fact that sat uncomfortably on her conscience but there was no other way to offer any hope at all to the rest of her kind.

They ducked across the road together and approached the building, trying to look as casual as possible. A passing muggle in a car waved and Marceline waved back jauntily. At least she seemed to be enjoying herself, Bonnie figured.

A quick tap with Marceline's wand tip against the bolted trapdoor leading to the cellar produced a single eye staring at them from a hidden panel in the floor.

"Pass phrase?" a disembodied male voice asked in a grunt.

"Those who shine brightest die first." Marceline replied with a smirk.

"That's cheerful." Bonnie muttered as the eye disappeared and the trapdoor swung open. Marceline just shrugged and bowed, indicating that she should go first.

"After you, m'lady. Allow me to escort you in your delicate state."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"As if I would ever take joy from breaking the law or mocking your hilarious disguise. Oh wait, that's exactly what I'd do."

The chamber had obviously been magically expanded from its original muggle proportions. Stepping down the staircase was like descending into a subterranean cathedral lit with thousands of floating candles and despite all her time in the wizarding world Bonnie still caught her breath in surprise. Huge carved columns held up a massive vaulted ceiling while a thick crowd of people wove in between, some selling dubiously legal or openly illicit wares and others browsing furtively. Many wore what she assumed were also borrowed faces, some appeared blank and featureless and she even spotted a few of the enchanted animal masks from Meán Fómhair. Bonnie shuddered and looked away, she didn't want to think about that night if she could help it. Her disgust had shifted from the original revulsion of anything that felt even vaguely like incest to a wider sense of violation. It wasn't that it was Marceline's fault, Bonnie was well aware that her girlfriend hadn't know what was about to happen either, but she relived the same trauma every full moon when her body was taken outside of her control. It was simply unacceptable to somebody with a pathologically iron grip over herself that the wild magic should be able to compel her to act against her will, even when it was something as fun and pleasurable as sharing intimacy with her girlfriend. Bonnie shook her head and shoved the thought towards her head wolf who pounced on it with a mental growl and joyfully tore it to shreds.

"An enchanted rose for your enchanting lady, sir? Or a lucky sprig of heather, hm? Keep your little ones protected from the faeries perhaps, keep the goblins honest with your gold?" a balding old woman asked slyly as they shoved past her in the crowd. She had a tray of faintly glowing flowers and her smile didn't reach the cold eyes staring up from her chubby face.

"Keep walking, hag." Marceline growled in her newly baritone voice.

"No need to be rude, my lord. People might get the impression you was high an' mighty, pushing around a poor old woman like me. Wouldn't want to wake up and find some cursed stinkweed throttling your garden, would you?" the hag replied with an ugly scowl.

"Are you threatening me?" Marcy demanded. She might have pulled her wand from her sleeve if Bonnie hadn't laid a hand against her arm and murmured to her.

"Leave it, Marcy. She's not what we're here for."

The hag's eyes flickered between the two of them and she cocked her head then spat meditatively onto the flagstones as Marceline reluctantly backed down and led Bonnie away through the crowd, staring over her shoulder all the time to make sure the old woman saw that she was watching her. It was good luck that the face she'd borrowed was so rugged and rough because her customary dark Abadeer scowl on his craggy features made an impressive sight. They pushed past temporary market stalls and haggling traders until they made it to the most densely packed area of the chamber where a low stage had been built. A tall man in astronomical robes with a bush of curly brown hair cascading from behind his enchanted badger mask held his audience captivated as he auctioned off various illicit materials. Each lot revolved slowly in the air next to him and disappeared as a buyer was agreed, presumably into their pocket. Then-

"Lot two hundred twenty four, half a hundredweight of powdered moon gentian. This rare plant is gathered locally beneath a full moon by a fair haired virgin, rarer than unicorn's horn. Can I begin the bidding at a hundred galleons?" he announced.

"I don't have that kind of money!" Bonnie hissed to Marceline as a burly man with a featureless face raised his hand to begin the bidding.

"Relax, nerd. I've got this." Marceline muttered back before she nodded to the auctioneer and raised her hand. "Two hundred galleons!"

"Two fifty." the faceless man shouted.

"Three hundred!" Marcy shot right back.

"Four!"

"Five hundred!"

"Six hundred."

The crowd looked between the two bidders like they were watching a particularly energetic tennis match.

"I'll go all the way to a thousand." Marceline announced loudly. The crowd fell silent, turning to stare at the man.

"A thousand galleons, going to the new father in the front row." the auctioneer said into the silence as the other bidder shook his head. "Going once, going twice, s-"

"AUROR RAID! RUN!"

Screams and panic tore through the crowd at the yell and suddenly the air ripped with a flurry of apparation as law enforcement officers began to appear out of nowhere around them. Marceline shot forward onto the stage to grab the moon gentian from where it still hung in the air in the confusion then was back in the crowd a moment later, wrapping Bonnie into a tight hug. The auctioneer had fled, leaving his wares and buyers behind to face whatever the Ministry raid would bring. For a single heartbeat Marcy crushed Bonnie against her with arms stronger than she was used to, squeezing them both back into the space between space, following the ley lines back to the cabin-

The squeezing snapped back and they were still in the chamber surrounded by aurors.

"They've put a fucking apparation block on us!" Marcy yelled in horror. "Oh Merlin I'm going to get arrested, I'm going to jail, my father is going to kill me-"

"Wait." Bonnie muttered under her breath as she stared toward the exit. Plenty of the crowd had managed to get away before the apparation block had been activated, it was only Marcy's delay to grab the ingredients that had cost them precious seconds. There weren't all that many people left in the chamber and the buyers were being processed by younger aurors as their superiors seized the contraband from the stalls lining the main thoroughfare. A familiar blonde head was weaving through the crowd, putting a magical binding onto the hands of the arrested. Bonnie moved off in his direction and dragged Marceline along with her.

"Finn! Sixth year, Valentine's night. I told McGonagall there was no way it could have been you in the Ravenclaw bathroom with your girlfriend because you were out patrolling with me. You said to tell you if I ever needed a favour." Bonnie muttered in a rush when he turned to them.

"Bonnie?" Finn asked incredulously. "And... that's Abadeer with you, isn't it? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Later, I promise I'll tell you everything. Come on, man. Help me out here, I can't get arrested." she pleaded quietly.

"I can't!"

"Sure you can. You promised, any time I was in trouble. Please. I'll be forever in your debt."

Finn looked between the two unfamiliar faces and bit his lip hesitantly. He glanced around to see how close his direct superiors were then pulled out a length of cord from his pocket.

"Never again, right? This is a one time deal." Finn told them quietly. "Put your hands out like I'm binding you. You too, Abadeer. Trust me."

Marceline didn't, but she was all out of options. She reluctantly held out her hand and let him tie her and Bonnie together at the wrists. Finn touched his wand tip to the cord and it glowed briefly with what she recognised as a non-verbal Portkey charm. Marceline had to reluctantly admit to herself that she was impressed, she didn't know he was competent enough to produce that kind of complex spell without saying it out loud.

"In exactly thirty seconds it's going to activate. Shout whatever you want as a fake activation phrase, I'll be well out of the way by then. Bonnie, you owe me." he repeated before turning and marching away to arrest more illegal buyers. There was just time for Marceline to squeeze Bonnie's hand comfortingly, look around to check Finn wasn't next to them and decide what she was going to shout. It had to be something cool, something they'd remember, oh Merlin, she was running out of time- The cord around her wrist tingled to warn that it was about to activate and she yelled;

"BE GAY, DO CRIMES!"

"They've got a Portkey!"

The chamber dissolved around them before the aurors could react and it was all Bonnie could do to cling onto Marceline's hand as she swirled through space. A breathless moment later they landed in the reeds at the side of Llangorse Lake and Marceline let out an explosive howl of laughter.

"Did you see their faces?"

"Seriously, 'be gay, do crimes'? You might as well have just yelled 'hey it's me, Marceline Abadeer from Moor House, Yorkshire'!"

"Mertens actually helped us! What the hell, did you put a nonverbal Imperius on him?"

"He owed me. I covered for him losing his virginity."

They stared at each other in the reflected starlight from the lake and both burst out laughing again at the same time. It might have been the relief making her light headed or the breathlessness left over from her adrenaline but Bonnie didn't even question it when Marcy tugged her forward into a deep kiss.

"We, uhh, we're ok again?" Marcy asked when they finally broke apart.

"You were fully prepared to drop a thousand galleons of your own money onto my research had you not just stolen the ingredients when the raid happened, you almost got arrested for me and you were manipulated by the wild magic just as much as I was. I realise I've been acting like as asshole." Bonnie replied softly. She looked down and away, ashamed, but Marceline caught her chin and tilted her face back up gently until their eyes met.

"This is a really weird time for you, babe. And for me, too. It's ok if you need time to process how you feel about stuff. It's even ok if you take it out on me, that's just how couples are sometimes. Sure, you're a spoilt little princess, but you're my princess."

"You're a strange girl, Abadeer."

"But I'm your strange girl, Sugar. Now come on inside, we're standing knee deep in freezing mud and I have a ton of kissing you to catch up on."

...

It was a strange feeling to be comfortable in Moor House. Strange to walk past her mother's photograph hanging in the long gallery and not avert her eyes at the tender smile too like her own. It was the night before the full moon, and Marceline couldn't sleep. She wished there'd been a portrait painted with an enchanted voice but the only likeness of her mother that was left to her was the enlarged photo, a full-length portrait that clearly showed her emerging baby bump. Marceline had always assumed that it had been taken during her mother's pregnancy with her but now she wondered if it was the brother she didn't remember, the anonymous criminal who'd invaded her home.

"Hey Mum. The wind's really loud tonight, I can't sleep. Figured you wouldn't be able to run away from me if I wanted to talk, right? Since you're a photo and all." Marcy sighed as she stood before the picture. The image of her mother wore a tender smile and stroked a hand across her stomach lovingly.

"Is that me in there, or... y'know. Him? What did he do, Mum? Did you know he was a criminal, was it before you died? I hope not. You should have gone to your grave thinking your kids were both good, right? I dunno, I guess I'm kinda a criminal now, too. And the only reason Daddy isn't in jail for fraud is because his friends on the Wizengamot wrote loopholes into the laws for him. Would you have cared? I want to think you'd have been ok with who I grew up to be but I guess we'll never know. See Mum, there's this girl. She's just amazing, like, perfect. She's the only person who's immune to my charms and she makes my brain go all dumb when I look at her. Is that how Daddy made you feel?"

She could have stayed talking like that all night but a small noise behind her had her whipping around with her wand out. Simon raised his hands hurriedly and Marcy lowered her wand.

"I surrender, take me to the aurors." he laughed.

"I didn't know you were still up." Marceline replied sheepishly.

"Oh yes, when you've lived as many decades as I have you'll find yourself up all night tending to the constant demands of your bladder. I was simply on my way to the bathroom when I heard voices."

Marceline's face darkened.

"Voices?" she prompted. "Like, more than one?"

"You weren't talking to someone?" he asked with a frown.

"I was talking to Mum's picture but I didn't expect a reply. Do you think-"

"Revelio!"

Marshall's Disillusionment charm fell away to reveal him leaning against the wall opposite, twisting an unusually thin wand between his fingers and smirking for all he was worth.

"Uncle Simon!" he purred with a grin like a predator. "What a surprise, I suppose my ex-father asked you to move in and guard me? Pft. That little usurper was always your favourite, wasn't she? What, nothing to say to your nephew? Oh you're wondering where I got the wand, see I-"

Simon wasn't wondering where he'd gotten the wand. Simon was carefully tilting his wrist so that the wand up his own sleeve was at the right angle and without a single word of warning a burst of red light lit the corridor. Marshall crumpled, Stupefied, as Marceline gaped in shock.

"Holy shit!" she gasped. "You've still got it!"

The old man strode forward with surprising speed for his advanced age and swiftly kicked the wand out of his nephew's limp hand with a grim frown casting a stormcloud over his face. He bent low over the prone man, checked his pulse and breathing then sighed heavily.

"Do you know that in over seventy years as a duelist I've only been disarmed twice?" he asked Marceline as he levitated Marshall and set off down the dark hall. She hurried to keep up with him, eyes wide in surprise.

"I never knew you were such a badass." she replied truthfully. Simon smiled over his shoulder but his expression was dark again by the time they reached the suite of rooms that had been begrudgingly given to Marshall.

Marceline had to wonder if they were the same rooms he'd occupied as a boy, was this where he'd grown up and turned to darkness? Had he sprawled on the huge four poster bed while he penned letters to other Death Eaters? Surely her father would have put him in a guest suite rather than let him back into the family's space? But the walls were decorated with out-dated Quidditch posters and Slytherin flags, it looked like her brother hadn't bothered to redecorate on his release from prison. Marceline had to wonder how much of his mind was still intact after ten years in Azkaban or if he simply didn't know how creepy it was that he was stuck a decade in the past.

"Go wake your father." Simon directed her. Marceline nodded and reluctantly left them.

She broke into a jog and then a full sprint, arriving at Hunson's door out of breath with her heart thumping uncomfortably in the base of her throat. It felt awkward to knock on his door, even more awkward to let herself in when she got no reply. She'd been in her father's room many times through the day but had never ever disturbed him at night before, not even as a small child. He stirred from his own lavish bed the moment the door opened and was wide awake and bolt upright by the time she was by his side.

"Something's happened?" Hunson asked in a scratchy voice as he swung himself out of bed.

"I... Yeah. Something, to do with... him. I don't completely remember, he's got something he shouldn't." Marceline replied after a second. No matter how hard she strained her mind wasn't quite holding onto the memories.

Hunson was already shrugging a heavy robe over his nightshirt as he hurtled out into the hall, making for his estranged son's suite. Marceline followed with her heart pounding in the base of her throat and her wand lit, held out in front of her more like a sword than a light source. What did it mean that Marshall had a wand? How had he come into possession of it, was he going back to Azkaban? She almost collided with her father's back when he stopped dead in front of her.

"Stand aside, Cake. He needs to be dealt with."

Marceline looked around Hunson's shoulder and found their way blocked by the tiny, patchy skinned house elf assigned to her brother. The elf had her hands stretched out in front of her and despite her obvious terror and the shaking in her limbs a visible aura of magic formed a force field, preventing them from getting near the door to Marshall's room.

"The old mistress said Cake was to look after Master Marshall, little Master is our only Master, not the Master of the house. Cake doesn't take orders from nobody but her Master Marshall."

Hunson's back stiffened in surprise at the unexpected defiance. Marshall and Marceline had both told him no plenty of times, before his wife had died and he retired from public life he'd been a prosecutor with the Wizengamot and argued with the finest minds in the land for fun and profit. But he'd never had an elf speak back to him, certainly not one that had entered the family when he'd married rather than having the honour of being born an Adabeer elf. The rigid cherrywood wand that he always had secured to his arm snapped out into his waiting hand with just a thought and he raised it grimly, completely ready to kill the elf if he had to. Cake braced herself and pulled in a deep breathe as her former master's wand tip began to flicker with the first stirrings of a spell-

Marceline woke with a gasp, confused and somehow with the impression that she was not where she was supposed to be. Her left hand itched fiercely and she scratched at it every couple of minutes as she dressed, still yawning, and made her way downstairs. Simon was slouched over a large mug of coffee in the breakfast parlour, he looked up and offered her a tired smile before pouring a second mug and handing it across.

"Didn't sleep well? You look like you died in the night." the older man offered when Marcy simply grunted in thanks and slumped down next to him.

"Cheers, you look fabulous, too. Is Daddy already out?" Marceline asked after she'd drained her mug in three gulps.

"Your father is feeling under the weather this morning, I'm afraid. I've had an elf send a tray to his room. This unbinding... I know Hunson can look after himself but I'm worried that he's put too much of his energy into the Old Way. Winter approaches and he is frailer than ever."

Marcy stared down at the empty mug in her hands, turning it over and over simply to have something to occupy her hands with while her mind was engaged elsewhere. Long windows looked out over the grounds of Moor House from the breakfast parlour, as much as there even were grounds anymore. Off in the distance the treetops of the sacred grove waved in the ceaseless moor winds and shed an endless stream of crimson and gold as their dying leaves blew loose. They reminded her that she had an obligation to her family, to her father, no matter how poor their relationship had been for most of her life. Marceline nodded to herself, she'd made a decision.

"Tell him I'm going to do the unbinding at midwinter. I'm his heir, my blood is his blood. The Old Way is a part of my heritage and I need to protect him. From himself, if I have to."

"I can't say I'm happy about it, but I understand." Simon nodded gravely. "Maybe your father has the best of it, perhaps I should go back to bed for an hour or two myself. I'm feeling rather exhausted this morning."

It was weird, Marceline considered as she said her goodbyes to her uncle and buckled an extra thick cloak around her shoulders, she felt really tired too. Like she'd been up all night, but she remembered perfectly well going to bed at a reasonable time. She shrugged and put it out of her mind, she'd have plenty of time to rest in her animagus form while she watched over Bonnie that evening. They were slowly getting into a routine with the full moons, Marcy excused herself from Moor House for 'band practice' and went straight to Diagon Alley, bought as much fresh high quality meat as the magical butchers would sell her and then apparated straight to Bonnie's cabin. While the werewolf paced nervously she'd play her bass or sing, share old magical fairy stories that her girlfriend didn't know or sometimes read out loud. Nothing worked to calm the redhead but it distracted her until Peppermint had finished cooking an enormous plate of meat and once she'd wolfed that down Bonnie usually relaxed a little. They'd spend the afternoon together until an hour before moonrise when Bonnie regretfully stripped and locked herself in her silver cage. Marceline would assume her bat form and spend the night in the cellar with her girlfriend then in the morning she'd gently carry an unconscious Bonnie to her bed once she regained her human shape. Watching her girlfriend writhe in agony as her body ripped itself apart and transformed into a monster wasn't exactly quality time but there was nothing in the world Marceline would have missed it for. Not even a mystery.

"Cake." she read out loud in confusion as she reached for the front door and realised that the annoying itch in her hand was coming from a word scrawled hastily into her palm. It was her own handwriting, it felt like she'd gone through the first couple of layers of skin with her quill when she'd scrawled it. Marceline frowned to herself as she strode out across the windswept grounds and out towards the edge of the wards. It seemed she'd developed a habit of writing on herself in her sleep, she'd have to remember to ask Bonnie if she'd done that before.