"This is the most absurd idea she's ever had."

Edmund Rookwood glanced up at his best friend over the edge of the latest issue of Spellbound. Normally, he never would've read the magazine, but Alesana had been raving about an article in this issue. Edmund wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Aldon, for his part, was wearing a path into the carpet of the Rookwood library, pacing back and forth across the rug before the fireplace. Aldon looked tired, Edmund thought. He wondered how much sleep he'd gotten since returning home. He knew that Aldon spent a lot of his time worrying over his mother's health. It wouldn't do him any good to make himself sick as well.

"It's not as if this hasn't been coming," Edmund pointed out. "You've known that your grandmother wanted to bring them back into the family for a while. It was only a matter of time-"

"It's the wrong time!" Aldon interrupted. Edmund arched an eyebrow at his friend's outburst. With a sigh, Aldon collapsed on the couch beside Edmund. "It's just… it's not as if it's a good time for them. They're still in mourning."

Edmund hated that he had to be the voice of reason in this situation. He only cared about Aldon's familiar problems insofar as they affected Aldon. There was no reason his grandmother and father's choice to draw his disowned aunt back into the family should be affecting him so much. It wasn't as if it would really change Aldon's position in life. There were plenty of respectable wizards in their world who had halfblood family members. Rigel Black was one of them, and he was the favored pureblood champion. Aldon could survive having a wealthy business owner and two moderately famous quidditch players in his family.

In all honesty, Edmund envied him a little. He was an only child with a handful of cousins who were all significantly older or younger than him. He'd always felt like something was missing from his life—like he was supposed to have a sibling. It was an odd feeling, especially when he considered that his parents had never tried to have other children to his knowledge. It had only ever been Edmund.

Aldon was the closest thing he had to a brother.

"First of all, they're halfbloods, so they don't necessarily follow the same traditions that we do." Edmund held up a hand, silencing Aldon's budding protests. "And secondly, they're your family, so those rules wouldn't apply anyways. There's nothing wrong with having a small family dinner."

Aldon frowned at him. "I hate it when you're right."

"So, all the time?"

Aldon groaned. "I get what you're saying, Ed, I do. It's just… my grandfather would have hated this. There was a reason he disowned them."

"Because he was a blood purist," Edmund supplied.

"It was more than that," Aldon said, "Helena was supposed to fix this feud that we've had with the Flints. Instead, she made it worse."

"You and Flint didn't seem to have many problems at school," Edmund pointed out.

"Because we ignored each other. We never spoke to one another. Every time I was near him, though, I itched to hex him. It was like my magical core was allergic to his. Everything about him feels wrong."

That was interesting. Aldon had never revealed that piece of information to him before. He wondered if Helena had felt the same thing around Marcellus. He quickly pushed the inquiry from his mind. It didn't matter to him. Not really.

"Father mentioned…" Aldon trailed off with a shudder. Edmund sent Aldon a questioning look, but his best friend simply shook his head. "I've had Dipsy following them."

Edmund snorted. Of course Aldon had convinced his house elf to stalk his cousins and aunt. He'd probably been gathering evidence against them in an effort to change his father's mind. Edmund knew that there was very little he could scrounge up that would. After all, Evan wasn't the one who was in charge—not really.

"And?"

"And Helena's painfully boring. All she does is go to work and go home. Apparently, she cries a lot when she's not around her children."

"Her husband just died," Edmund pointed out. "What about the other three?"

"Elliot's dating Sybil Shacklebolt. They meet up for a public meal twice a week. He spends an annoying amount of time going through records at the library-"

"Maybe he's trying to catch up on family history," Edmund offered.

"More like he's looking for a way to destroy us," Aldon said. "That's not even the worst part. When he isn't practicing, at his flat, or at the library, he spends his time at Bill Weasley's flat in the company of another halfblood." Edmund frowned. He didn't like the Weasleys any more than Aldon did. The family was radically Light. They were a menace to society. Aldon continued, "Gilbert practically lives in muggle London. Dipsy didn't dare to follow him, but I can only imagine what sort of horrible business he's getting himself into."

"And the girl?"

Aldon's frown deeped. "Katie is proving to be difficult."

"By which you mean?"

"I mean that Dipsy's not been able to follow her. I know that she went on a date with Oliver Wood from other sources, but every time Dipsy tries to get near her, he gets knocked out and wakes up with no memory of who did it."

Edmund's surprise was written clearly on his face. Dipsy was the oldest and most powerful of the Rosier's house elves. It would take a powerful wizard or a very old house elf to overpower Dipsy. "Do you think she's doing it herself?"

"I don't know any wizard who could do it without one of the unforgivables—except maybe Rigel," Aldon admitted. "If she's the one doing it, then why hasn't she warned her siblings to be on the look-out? If it were anyone else, I'd assume that their house elf was the one doing it, but the Bells don't have house elves. And, get this: her records of her time at St. Mungos have vanished. Someone doesn't want them being read."

Edmund hated to admit it, but, "That is suspicious."

"I know," Aldon said, "and those are the people that Father's expecting me to embrace with open arms."

"How long until the dinner?"

"Three hours."

"Right." Edmund nodded. His mind was racing quickly. He didn't want to get entangled in Rosier family drama, but Katie Bell was suspicious. She could pose a real threat to Aldon's family—to Aldon himself. Edmund wasn't about to let anything happen to his brother.

"What're you thinking?" Aldon asked.

"I'm thinking we need to get our hands on some veritaserum."

Katie thought that she'd known what to expect. She'd been to tea several times at her grandmother's. She'd been invited over to dinner at Angelina's once or twice. She was familiar enough with purebloods that she'd thought she'd known what to expect from a 'casual' dinner at the Rosier Estate.

She was wrong.

First, there was the house—although Katie couldn't in good conscience call it a house. It was well and truly an estate, set up on acres and acres of land, surrounded by gardens that made Versailles look like a neighborhood park. Dark wood—mahogany, by the look of it—accentuated the room, matching the table and chairs. The Rosier Crest of a single rose surrounded by thorns repeated over and over again on the wallpaper. Thick, red curtains hung over the windows and a crystal chandelier was lit by candles. Katie has thought she'd known what to expect, given that she'd been to Cordelia's for tea. She hadn't.

Then, there was the dinner. Six courses, each one fancier than the next. Beginning with Portabella Mushroom Crostini, the courses got fancier and fancier: Cesar Salad Chiffonade, Vichyssoise soup, Lemon Thyme sorbet (because her extended family were the kinds of crazy people who placed palate cleansers on a menu), Cornish game hens and Red Radish Julienne Salad, until eventually they got to dessert.

Finally, there was her extended family. Katie had tea enough times with Cordelia that she felt she knew her grandmother fairly well—at least, she knew as much of her grandmother as anyone else in the upper echelon of society did. Katie was certain the only person who truly knew Cordelia Rosier nee Parkinson was herself.

She'd had the opportunity to meet Aldon once. That tea hadn't gone as horribly as she'd expected but it hadn't gone well either. It was obvious to Katie that her cousin didn't like her. Whether that was because of her blood status, her sudden appearance into his perfect little life, or another reason entirely, Katie didn't know. What she did know was that Aldon had been shooting her suspicious looks all night, even as he engaged in the stilted conversation going on around them. He didn't trust her, Katie realized. For some reason, he trusted her brothers, who he'd never met in his life, more than he trusted her. She hoped it wasn't because of something as stupid as her being a girl. She'd have to hex him for that. Well, she wouldn't hex him because she was nearly as abismal at offensive magic as she was at potions, but she'd get someone else to do it for her. Probably, Gilbert or Marcus, although she was pretty sure Alicia would like a spot in the queue too.

Evan looked a lot like his son. He was older and harder-looking than Aldon, but the resemblance was uncanny. He paid little attention to Katie and her brothers, focusing mainly on Helena. His face was passive marble but his eyes were conflicted. He wanted the sister from his childhood back, but he wasn't sure he could trust the woman who, in his eyes, had betrayed his family. Helena looked at him much the same, obviously wanting her little brother back but unsure when this man resembled her father more closely than the child who'd trailed after her through the halls of this very manor.

Katie didn't know what to think of Madeline. The French witch was obnoxiously friendly in a way that Katie had never expected. She was beautiful and petit, with dark hair and light eyes. She was the one who kept the conversation at the table flowing. Cordelia was domineering, Evan and Helena obviously were uncomfortable, but Madeline ensured that no one had the opportunity to ruin her dinner with her strategically tactful questions. This dinner was a minefield and Madeline navigated it with expert precision. She even managed to engage Elliot, who obviously didn't want to be here, in conversation.

"We didn't actually have practice yet today," Elliot answered Madeline's expertly crafted question on Katie's brothers quidditch careers. "We have to be at the pitch at midnight for a training session."

"Why midnight?" Madeline asked.

Gilbert answered, "Broadmoor likes to shift our practice schedule around so that we're ready to play at any time in any conditions. His coaching style is… different from the Wasps head coach."

Of course, the Wasps actually had a head coach, and an assistant coach, and a chaser coach, and a beater coach, and team healers, and a team of recruiters and PR people, and an exclusive contract with Nimbus. The Falcons only have Broadmoor. They'd lost their only recruiter when Marcus had joined the team, and they hadn't bothered to replace him yet. Their Team Captain, Lavinia Macmillan, was going to be out for the rest of the season due to a pregnancy, so Ryland Walsh was taking over as Captain, moving Merideth Griffins into the Assistant Captain position, and shuffling Oliver Wood off of the Puddlemere reserves and into the Falmouth Falcons starting lineup. Not that they had anything other than a starting lineup. Even with their loyal fan base, they were woefully underfunded. So, Broadmoor's unusual coaching style made sense given he didn't have a fleet of coaches, recruiters, and PR people at his command.

Katie could feel Aldon eying her suspiciously in the seat beside her. He'd been doing it all night, shooting her suspicious looks whenever he thought no one was watching them. Cordelia had noticed. Katie wondered if anyone else had. Ignoring Aldon, she sipped the wine that had been paired with dessert. It felt strange on her tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste instead of a sour one. Katie didn't know enough about wine to be able to tell if it was supposed to taste so bitter. She didn't want to be rude and suggest that their wine was subpar. Her mum had a lot riding on this dinner.

"That was a fantastic meal," Helena said to her brother. He nodded stiffly in thanks. "I'd almost forgotten what Laa Laa's cooking tasted like."

Evan's expression tightened as he swallowed undoubtedly sour words. Madeline steered the conversation away from the volatile subject of Helena's absence from the family. "Let's retire to the drawing room."

As the family stood, Aldon asked, "Do you mind if I give Katie a tour of the gardens? I think it would provide us with the perfect opportunity to become better acquainted."

"That's a wonderful idea," Madeline said.

As the rest of the group moved into the drawing room, Katie followed Aldon into the massive gardens. A dull ache began to form behind her eyes as she listened to Aldon explain what each plant was.

"How's your schoolwork going?" Aldon changes subjects away from plants.

Katie had every intention of lying to him and telling him that it was going splendidly, but, instead, she said, "It's not. I wouldn't be surprised if they make me repeat the grade. I've failed the few assignments I've actually turned in since Da died. Leanne's doing her own rune work too." Katie sat down on a cold stone bench surrounded by roses on three sides. A fountain gurgled in front of them. "I'm thinking of dropping out or switching to one of the programs where I'd only have to take exams. It's not like I really need school to make brooms. I just need an apprenticeship."

"Which you'll probably never get without my family's backing," Aldon said like the jerk he was. He sat down beside her, his eyes searching. "Why were you in St. Mungo's for a year?"

Now that was something that Katie didn't talk about. Even Marcus didn't know the details of her time in St. Mungo's. There was no way that Katie was going to tell Aldon the truth. "My core exploded."

Why did she say that? Aldon didn't need to know about how volatile her magic was. He didn't need to know about how she had trouble with most forms of magic. Broom making and runes were the exception not the rule. She didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth about her accident. She didn't…

"How are you avoiding my house elf's detection?"

"What are you talking about?"

Aldon's eyes widened. "You don't know. I've had my house elf, Dipsy, trying to follow you for the past week, but he hasn't been able to get anywhere near you. You obviously don't have enough control over your magic to overpower him, and you don't know he's there. Do you know any house elves who'd go through the trouble of protecting you?"

She did know one, but it'd be a cold day in hell before Aldon found out about him. "Nilsy."

"Who's Nilsy?"

"Marcus's elf."

What? Why did she say that? Katie didn't want Aldon to know—

"How do you know Marcus Flint?"

"I love him."

No. No. No. Katie had not just told Aldon that. Her feelings for Marcus were her deepest secrets. She would never… The pieces clicked into place. Aldon's strange questions. The headache. Her willingness to tell the truth.

Veritaserum.

Pushing herself off of the bench, Katie stumbled away from her cousin. She needed to get away. She needed to leave this place. If Aldon started asking personal questions, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from answering them. Every little detail about her relationship with Marcus would get out.

Aldon chased after her, but it was for nothing. She was taller. Her legs were longer. She was faster. Katie ran, and ran, and ran until she couldn't hear Aldon's voice anymore—until she was standing in the entrance to the drawing room, staring into Gilbert's concerned eyes. She couldn't focus on anyone else in the room, just her favorite brother whose face was filled with worry.

"What's wrong?" Gilbert asked.

And because Katie had been drugged with veritaserum she had to tell him the truth. "Aldon. Veritaserum."

Elliot stepped up beside his brother. Others were closing in around her, worry on their faces. They'd ask questions. They'd ask her questions and she might say something about Marcus, or, Merlin forbid, Merriam. Katie couldn't allow any of her secrets to spill. Before anyone could stop her, Katie pulled out her wand and stunned herself. A smile crept across her face as she slipped into darkness.

Helena watched her daughter stun herself and collapse into her son's arms. Gilbert didn't waste any time, passing Katie off to Elliot with a pointed look. She heard him the second half of their conversation as she approached them. "... I've got an antidote at my place. A friend's crashing there at the mo'. She'll know where it is." With a nod, Elliot carried his sister to the fireplace and flooed to his brother's flat.

"What's going on?" Helena demanded, unable to stop her eldest son from vanishing with her daughter.

Gilbert didn't answer. Instead, he whipped out his wand as Aldon skidded to a halt in the entrance to the drawing room and fired a hex at his cousin. Madeline screamed as it caught Aldon in the chest. Evan roared in protest, "What's the meaning of this?"

"Ask your son," Gilbert said, his eyes burning with anger. "He's the one who decided to drug Katie."

Aldon lay on the floor clutching his stomach. Helena didn't feel an ounce of pity for him as cold fury raced through her veins. He had threatened her child and for that he deserved whatever nasty hex Gilbert had thrown her way—and Helena knew it was nasty. Gilbert's magic was the darkest in her family's, darker even than her own.

But then she caught a glimpse of the horrified expression on Madeline's face as she raced to her son's side, healing potions at the ready. The fact that she carried healing potions on-hand didn't surprise Helena. Madeline was obviously battling some ailment. As the potions knitted Aldon back together, Helena pulled her son back, stopping him from hexing his cousin further.

"We cannot get answers if we cannot ask him questions," Helena sounded much more level headed than she felt. She wanted to hex the boy herself. It was only years of training under her mother's firm guidance that stopped her. Slowly Aldon sat up. Helena crouched down before him, a small smile on her face. "Now, Aldon, I suggest you tell us what you did to my bluebird before I let Gilbert use his full repertoire of dark curses." She could hear her son gasp behind her. He hadn't known that she was aware of his alignment or that his magic was more violent than his siblings. Of course she was aware. She'd known all of her children's alignments before they had.

Aldon glared at her. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he thought whatever he'd done to Katie was justified. Helena would make sure he understood that it wasn't.

"You can't run around threatening and hexing my heir," Evan said. "For all we know, the girl lied about whatever happened."

"Katie doesn't lie," Helena said, ready to defend her daughter.

Aldon snorted. "Really? I suppose you knew about the fact that she fancies herself in love with Marcus Flint, then?"

Helena froze. No. That couldn't be possible. She remembered Marcellus and Julian Flint from her teen years. As bad as Julian was, he'd had nothing on Marcellus, who was rumored to hunt muggles for sport. Julian saw his brother's favorite pastime as beneath him. There was a reason Cordelia had been so willing to help her daughter escape that marriage. The very thought that Katie would be in love with the boy named for Marcellus horrified Helena. Any son of Julian's was guaranteed to be as wicked as him. Wickedness ran in the Flints blood.

On a subconscious level, Helena was aware that she was being unfair to the boy, but she couldn't help it. She could still remember the vicious gleam in Marcellus's cold eyes when he'd told her his plans for their wedding night. She could remember the murderous look Julian wore after his brother's death. The Flints were bad news. If Katie fancied herself in love with Julian's son, then that could only mean that he was helping his father enact his revenge. Helena hadn't killed Marcellus as Julian liked to believe, but she wished she had. She wished she wiped the whole family off of the face of the planet. She'd taken up her ancestors' feud with fervor and she wasn't about to let it go.

But Katie… sweet, trusting Katie. She was too much like her father. She saw the good in everyone. She was always ready to forgive. No doubt, she'd even forgive her cousin for drugging her with veritaserum. It was what she did. Helena could imagine her falling too easily into the Flint's trap. They had sheltered Katie. She didn't understand just how cruel this world could be.

Evan was saying something, but Helena couldn't focus on him. Her eyes were glued in her son. There was guilt in his expression. Realization hit Helena like a pound of bricks. He knew. He knew what Aldon was talking about. He knew that truth.

"Gilbert?" Helena forced her son to meet her eyes. "Tell me this isn't true." She was begging. She was sure her mother was having a fit behind her. Rosiers didn't beg, but Helena wasn't a Rosier anymore.

"Mum…" Gilbert's eyes filled with guilt and remorse. He didn't answer her question but that was enough for Helena. Somehow, her daughter was in love with Marcellus's nephew.

This was bad.

Very bad.

"Katie's in love with a Flint?" Cordelia asked. "I thought she was smarter than that. This puts us in a rather unfortunate position."

"How?" Gilbert asked. "She's sixteen. When I was sixteen, I thought I was in love with Gwenog Jones. Sixteen-year-olds fall in love all the time. That's no reason to drug them!"

"I wouldn't expect you to understand," Aldon sneered. "The Flints are our enemies. We've been fighting against them for centuries."

"Maybe it's time to stop fighting them," Gilbert said. "Marcus is an asshole, but he's an asshole who cares about Katie. That isn't what this is about though. This is about you, Aldon, thinking drugging Katie is a totally reasonable thing to do."

"How else was I supposed to uncover the truth?" Aldon demanded. "Your family doesn't trust us with your secrets, and you have a lot of them. Do you want to tell the room why you spend most of your time in muggle London, Gilbert? I'm glad I slipped veritaserum in Katie's drink because otherwise we would've never discovered that she's dallying with the enemy."

"That's enough!" The way that Cordelia Rosier could command a room never ceased to amaze Helena. Everyone fell silent. "Aldon, you are in the wrong. Even if the use of veritaserum on an unwilling party wasn't a felony, it is inexcusable to use it on your family. Gilbert, you are a member of this family, and, as such, you are expected to behave in certain ways. Cavorting with muggles is unacceptable."

Gilbert glared at Cordelia. "What I do or don't do in my free time is none of your business," he spat. "I may be a Rosier by blood, but I want nothing to do with this family. Keep your tea invites to yourself, Cordelia." Storming away, Gilbert tossed powder into the fireplace and escaped in a roar of flames.

With all three of her children gone, Helena felt Franklin's absence tenfold as she turned to her brother. Her heart ached as she took him in. She could still recall with clarity the summer they'd discovered the hidden compartment in the back of the bookshelf in their father's office and spied on his meetings. They'd grown up together, getting in all sorts of trouble. In another life, they were each other's closest confidants. That had all changed in the last three decades. The man standing before her was a cunning politician who was crafting his son into a miniature version of himself. The Evan she'd known as a child was barely there.

"I'll take care of my daughter," Helena said. She'd make sure that Katie was safe and okay. "If you really want to mend bridges, deal with your son."

"I will," Evan promised.

Nodding to her brother and her mother, Helena followed her son out of the fireplace. She was unsurprised when she was redirected from Gilbert's flat and deposited in her house. It was silent and dark as she stepped out of the fireplace. It felt so utterly wrong without Franklin. Sinking down the wall, Helena allowed sobs to overtake her body. She missed Franklin so, so much. He'd know what to do.

Cordelia watched her daughter follow in her grandson's footsteps with a heavy heart. She should've known that gathering her family together after all this time wouldn't end well, but she'd allowed herself to hope otherwise. There was a reason she'd had to convince the hat to put her in Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff like it'd wanted. Even after all of her years of experience, Cordelia still allowed herself to hope for the best. It was one of her greatest flaws.

"Evan." Cordelia sent her son a pointed look as Madelyn ushered Aldon towards a couch. She could see the gears turning in Evan's mind. He was hatching a plan, and Cordelia doubted it would coincide with her own. "We've just accepted them back into our family. Now is the time to forge bonds and alliances instead of alienating them. Whatever you're planning, forget about it."

"Trust me, Mother. Alliances are at the forefront of my mind." Cordelia could hear the duplicity in his voice.

Stepping beside him, she whispered, "If you do anything to take my grandchildren or daughter away from me, I will have you stripped from the family vaults and Elliot named the heir."

A feeling of pleasure shot through her as Evan's eyes widened. He knew Cordelia would make good on her threat. After all, the hat may have wanted to place her in Hufflepuff because of her unyielding loyalty and penchant for optimism, but she'd managed to convince it she belonged in Slytherin for a reason. Despite Evan inheriting the lordship, Cordelia has managed to maintain primacy of the vaults through a clause she'd carefully hidden in her marriage contract. She'd worked at Gringotts in her youth and was one of the only witches in the world who was respected by the goblins. The titles and seats may not be hers, but the fortune was Cordelia's to do with as she wishes. Shrewd and cunning. Cordelia was as Slytherin as they came.

She gracefully whirled on her youngest grandson. "Aldon Elias Rosier, I am ashamed to be your namesake." Aldon had the sense to look embarrassed. Good. Maybe there was hope for him yet. "First thing tomorrow, I expect you to report to my cottage."

"But-"

Cordelia held up her hand, silencing him. "You are going to report to my cottage, and then, I think, you are going to report to Quality Quidditch Supplies. You are going to get your wish, young man. I want to know everything there is to know about the Bells. What Katie's favorite color is, how Gilbert takes his coffee, what Elliot thinks about quidditch stats. By the end of next summer, I expect you to be friends with your cousins. Is that understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good." Cordelia sighed. "Now, if you don't mind, it's been a rather trying night. Aldon, I will see you in the morning and you'll apologize to Helena." With that said, Cordelia apparated with a pop, leaving the Rosier family alone.

Evan Rosier didn't discipline his son the moment that his mother left as he'd promised. Aldon had certainly been out-of-line drugging his cousin, but he'd only had the best intentions. Despite the argument that ensued with Helena, Aldon's trickery had provided Evan with some crucial information. Helena's daughter in love with Marcellus's nephew; who would've thought? The idea of someone of his bloodline being involved with a Flint brought bile to Evan's mouth, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in its mouth.

Lord Riddle would be pleased with this development.

Evan glanced at his son on the couch. He loved Aldon fiercely, even if he wasn't the best at showing it. He and Helena were both a little emotionally stunted. Their parents hadn't exactly been the most openly affectionate, and there'd always been a pressure to compete to please them. Aldon had always been their mother's favorite, while Helena had been their father's. Her betrayal had destroyed what small amount of trust Elias was capable of. Their family had never been the same after Helena ran away. Evan hated her for it.

Despite the five years separating them, they'd been close as children. Helena had always been there for him, offering him a wry smile and help on whatever scheme he was concocting. They would've made a formidable team on the Wizengamot, but Helena had forsaken them—she'd forsaken him . She'd run off with that mudblood, shaming their family and destroying Evan's faith in the world. He'd never regained it. Never.

She'd betrayed him, destroyed their family, practically laughed in their faces while doing so, and now she wanted back. Even worse, Evan wanted her back. He wanted his sister to grin at him from across the table. He wanted to share snide comments to her at a party about Lucius Malfoy's delusions of grandeur, or stay up all night picking apart the inconsistencies of The Tales of Beedle the Bard . He missed that—he missed her .

But first, she needed to pay.

Evan knew just what to do.

"I'll be out late tonight," Evan told his wife, heading for the nearest fireplace attached to the floo.

Madeline nodded, accepting his words without question. She was too worried about Aldon to question where he was going. It seemed that Aldon, on the other hand, was well enough to ask questions. "Where are you going?"

"I have some business of the political nature to attend to," Evan answered. He grabbed a handful of floo powder off of the mantleplace and tossed it into the fire. The flames turned green. Lord Riddle had been threatening both him and Julian Flint for several months to put their differences aside by uniting their families. Evan refused to tie his son to that family. Julian refused because he was a homophobic asshole, claiming that no son of his would ever marry a man. Well, Katie Bell wasn't a man.

Evan smiled at the thought of claiming favor from Riddle as he stepped into the fireplace. The address tumbled softly from his lips, and Evan Rosier was whisked away by the flames.

Leaning against the doorway to his brother's bedroom, Elliot took in his sister's sleeping form. It brought back unpleasant memories of a different time when he'd been helpless to do anything besides watch as his sister withered away into nothing. Pushing aside those memories, Elliot's gaze flicked to the auburn-haired girl perched on the bed beside her.

To say that he'd been surprised to discover that the friend staying over at Gilbert's flat was Alicia Spinnit would be an understatement. He didn't know much about Alicia—they'd probably never said more than a few words to each other before tonight. She was a pureblood friend of Katie's who went to Hogwarts. Elliot hadn't thought there was more to know about her. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"So…" Elliot broke the silence that had settled over the flat following giving Katie the antidote. "Is there a reason you're staying at Gil's or…" He didn't know how to finish the question. Of course, there was a reason she was staying at Gilbert's. Elliot hoped it wasn't because they were sleeping together. If his memory served him correctly, Alicia was about a year older than Katie, which meant that she'd only recently turned seventeen. The thought of his twenty-three-year-old brother sleeping with a seventeen-year-old Hogwarts student didn't sit right with Elliot.

"I'm not sleeping with him, if that's what you're wondering." It was. Elliot felt a weight lift from his chest as he released a sigh of relief. Alicia chuckled at his reaction. "Gilbert lets me crash on his couch when dealing with my parents becomes too much to handle."

"How do you and Gil know each other?" Elliot asked. "No offense, but I thought you were Katie's friend."

"I am." Alicia glanced at Katie's sleeping form. Elliot resolutely did not follow her gaze. This was not a repeat of the accident when he was sixteen. She would wake up from this in the morning. She had to. "The friendship with Gilbert is a more recent development. He… gets me."

Elliot didn't have time to respond to that. The fireplace in the cramped living room roared to life and Gilbert jumped out, looking furious. "How'd it go?" Elliot asked as Gilbert stormed to the doorway still covered in soot. Gilbert paled as his eyes landed on Katie's sleeping form. Elliot knew what he was thinking. His hand landed on Gilbert's shoulder, pulling him out of his memories. "Hey. She's fine. Okay? She's going to wake up tomorrow morning. This isn't that."

"What if it is?"

"Don't even go there, Gil." If Gilbert started questioning, Elliot knew he'd follow. "She's just sleeping off the effects of the antidote. She'll be fine." Gilbert nodded, although Elliot doubted he believed him. That didn't matter. So long as Gilbert didn't speak the words, Elliot wouldn't think them. "Now, how'd it go?"

Alicia, who's pulled her wand out of the pockets of her robes, cast a cleaning spell that removed the soot from Gilbert's face and clothes. "Thanks, Lee," Gilbert said as he collapsed into the chair beside his desk. He didn't take his eyes off of Katie as he answered, "I hexed the bastard."

"Good." It was the least Aldon deserved. He'd attacked their family. Elliot was pretty sure he would've done the same in Gilbert's shoes.

Alicia surprised Elliot by asking, "Is he still alive?" He hadn't thought to ask that. He was relieved when Gilbert nodded. He didn't want killing someone to be on his brother's conscience. Alicia released a sigh of relief. "How's the rest of your family reacting to his drugging her?"

"Mum's livid," Gilbert said. "Although, I'm not sure if she's angrier at Aldon for what he did or at Katie for…" Gilbert trailed off. When he met Elliot's gaze, it was filled with a mixture of pity and remorse. "She found out about Katie's friend who likes brooms." Elliot gaped at Gilbert. His brother nodded. "Apparently, Aldon managed to weasel it out of her while she was on veritaserum. She told him she's in love with him."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I'm pretty sure not even Katie was aware of the fact." Gilbert ran a hand through his hair. "Cordelia and Evan weren't happy about it for the obvious reasons. I told them to shove it."

"I'm glad."

Gilbert sighed. "I didn't think Mum's extended family would be this mess up. I thought they'd be irritating like Uncle Jimmy or mildly prejudiced like Aunt Karen." Alicia burst out laughing. Elliot and Gilbert turned their attention towards her in unison.

"What's so funny?" Elliot asked.

"They're pureblood," Alicia answered. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but prejudice is pretty par for the course in pureblood circles—especially amongst the older generation. Even Mrs. Weasley is blood-prejudice and her husband studies muggles for a living. Light, Dark, it doesn't matter. Our society is built on blood prejudices, and it's only getting worse. My father would kill me if he knew that I was friends with Gilbert. I've been taught to look down on your family since the first time I saw you playing pick-up quidditch in the alley behind our parents' shops, and my parents aren't even the worst of it. Trust me, veritaserum is the least of your problems. You're rejoining a family that will think of you as less than them. There's no telling what they'll do."

"You're probably right," Gilbert said.

"I am," Alicia said with confidence.

The clock on the wall chimed half past midnight. Elliot glanced from Katie's sleeping form to Gilbert. He knew they were thinking the same thing. "Broadmoor will kill us if we miss practice entirely."

"I don't want to leave her alone," Gilbert said.

"She won't be alone," Alicia said. " I'll keep Katie company. I was planning on staying the night anyway."

"Thanks, Lee."

Elliot watched Alicia grin at Gilbert. They looked at each other with such complete openness and trust. He suddenly understood what Alicia meant when she said that Gilbert got her. "You hexed Aldon, Gil. It's the least I can do."

Marcus never thought he'd see the day when he played on the same team as Oliver Wood, but he was wrong. Broadmoor had planned one of his infamous midnight practices as Oliver's introduction to the team. Still being team captain, Lavinia insisted on attending the practice to ensure that Oliver didn't ruin her goalposts. Marcus wasn't entirely sure how one went about ruining goalposts, but he wasn't about to tell a pregnant witch what to do.

"I swear she thinks I'm incapable of catching a quaffle," Oliver complained, gliding in the air beside Marcus.

They'd only been practicing for a little over half an hour, but they hadn't started in full force yet. Broadmoor sat in the stands grumbling about the Bell brothers as Lavinia ran the rest of the team through drills. Her attention was mainly focused on Oliver, given that he'd recently taken over her position of keeper.

"You are."

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I'm the best keeper to come out of Hogwarts in the last quarter century."

"That's not a very hard competition," Marcus pointed out.

As much as he'd loved Hogwarts quidditch, he had to admit that it was lacking. Only four of the keepers in the league had come out of Hogwarts. The rest were halfbloods. The majority of the players in the league were halfbloods who either grew up in the team like Rye or were recruited at open tryouts like the Bell brothers. The entire Harpies team (save for the two purebloods) were chosen from the surrounding area at a young age and trained to eventually take their position throughout their entire teens.

"She's been the Falcon's keeper for the last decade. It's a miracle she's even letting you take over." Lavinia had been hesitant to give up her spot even though she was pregnant. She didn't want to risk losing the baby, but she didn't want to stop playing the game either.

"Oi! Flint! Stop chatting with your boyfriend and teach Cass how to do the Hubble Twist!"

Marcus flipped Rye off as he peeled away from Oliver, joining the other two chasers in the center of the pitch. "Why don't you teach him?" Marcus asked Rye.

The Irishman shrugged, "I've never managed to land one. Too much mental maths. The only maths in quidditch should be tallying the score."

"Regardless of your stance on maths, you should learn the Hubble Twist," Marcus said. "There are only half a dozen players in the league who can do it. Having the entire chaser team of the Falcons be capable of the maneuver would give us a significant advantage."

"It's not my thing."

"Make it your thing," Marcus ordered. He wouldn't stand for being on a subpar team. If they could gain an advantage, he would insure that they would.

The sound of Broadmoor's shouting reached his ears, although his words were indistinguishable. Marcus glanced downwards to where the coach stood at the foot of the stadium. The Bell brothers stood before him, over half an hour late to practice. Marcus knew they'd had to attend a family dinner, but he wondered why they'd stayed so late. Dinner at the Rosiers couldn't be that interesting.

As if he'd heard Marcus's thoughts, Cassian said, "Huh. Look who finally decided to show up. I wonder why they're so late."

"It doesn't matter," Marcus decided. It really didn't. He focused on the topic Cassian was trying to avoid. "The reason your Hubble's falling short is because you aren't engaging your core enough. Here, I'll show you." Marcus pressed forward, kicking his broom into action.

The wind whipped around his head as he flew forward, deafening his ears to the sounds around him. The Hubble Twist was typically performed during a chaser pinch, when two of the opposing chasers slam up against a player's sides, boxing them in and making it easier for the opposing team to grab the ball to throw to their third chaser. The twist was designed a few years earlier by an American player, and it used the momentum of the two pressing players against them.

The first element of the Twist was to angle your broom upwards. A steady pull up, followed by a sharp pull down, and then a pull to the left or right—it didn't matter so long as you managed to briefly dislodge one of the other chasers. It was a common move while in a pinch, so the pinching chasers would expect it. The key of the Hubble Twist, and the part that made it difficult, was the reason it was called a twist in the first place. It required a feat of acrobatics.

Typically when a pinching chaser was dislodged, it was nearly impossible to get out of a pinch, unless you used brute strength. The Hubble Twist offered an alternative, provided that the chaser performing it could release the broom, swing themselves upside down at such a high speed, and keep a hold of the quaffle. The resulting action would cause the two pinching chasers to collide. When pulled off successfully, it was a beautiful move to watch. Most chaser's didn't have the strength, speed, and agility to succeed.

As Marcus released the Flintlock to swing himself upside down, a pain shot through his left arm. His nerves felt like they were on fire as a piercing stab traced through his wrist. All thoughts of the Twist left Marcus's mind. He could only focus on the pain of foreign magic weaving itself through his core. His legs went slack, sliding off the broom. As Marcus fell to the earth, blackness overwhelmed his vision. His last thought was a hope that his broom didn't break upon impact.

Katie bolted upright in bed as a burning pain ripped through her wrist. The sound of screaming filled the air. It took Katie a moment to realize that the screams were her own as the feeling of a knife carving up her wrist stopped and the pain became familiar.

"What the fuck?"

Alicia sat beside Katie with Gilbert's copy of Good Omens sitting open on her lap. Katie's friend stared horrifyingly at the growing pool of blood on Gilbert's sheets. Katie didn't question what Alicia was doing at Gilbert's flat. It didn't seem like the most pressing issue at the time. Instead, she lifted her wrist to get a better view of the injury. Blood. So much blood.

Katie reached for her wand on the bedside table, but Alicia beat her to it. "Let me." With a few spells she'd definitely picked up because of quidditch, Alicia caused the blood to clot and vanished the redness that covered Katie's wrist. What was left was a scabbing scar in the shape of—

"Is that a dragon?" Katie asked.

On her left wrist was what looked like a house seal. Inside was an image of a dragon breathing fire. As Katie watched, the wings fluttered and the fire moved as if it were a magical tattoo. The words Imperium, Magia, Virtiti were carved underneath it—Power, Magic, Valor. Katie knew them. They were the words of the Flint family. Now that she thought about it, Katie was pretty sure that the entire thing was the Flint family seal.

What was it doing on her wrist?

Alicia inhaled sharply. Katie's attention turned to her friend. Alicia's complexion did not allow her to go pale, but the blood was rapidly draining from her face. Alicia obviously knew more about what was going on than Katie did. "What is it?" she asked.

"If I'm right—and I really hope that I'm not—it's one of the most barbaric spells ever created," Alicia answered. At Katie's questioning look, she continued, "It's called a proelia . It's a really old type of engagement bond that went out of fashion because the only way to break it is to kill the head of the family. Engagement bonds aren't really a thing anymore. Most people use contracts since they can be altered and they don't take a toll on a person's magic."

"Are you saying…" Katie trailed off. She didn't even want to think about what Alicia was saying. She was sixteen. Even in their world, that was much to you to be engaged. And what did Alicia mean by 'taking a toll on a person's magic?' That couldn't be good.

"The proelia bond is cast by the heads of the family and another party. Like an unbreakable vow, it is woven through a person's magical core, except in this case, it's the two people who are getting engaged. It ties them together on a magical level nearly as much as an old-fashioned marriage ceremony. I only know this much so I can know how to stop my parents from trying to trap me into a proelia , but if the two cores aren't compatible, they'll destroy each other if you don't get married soon."

Katie stared down at the crest on her wrist. It was an ugly red thing branding her to another person against her will. Even if that person was who she thought it was, she didn't want this. He'd made it clear that they were simply friends, but this would ruin everything. Would he even want to talk to her after this? Katie wouldn't blame him if he didn't.

Alicia took a deep breath as she said the damning words, "If your magic isn't compatible with Marcus Flint's, it'll destroy you."

Marcus blinked awake on the ground of the quidditch pitch. The Bell brother leaned over Marcus, staring down at him intensely. Gilbert looked ready to murder him. Marcus wondered what he'd done to put such an expression on the man's face. The rest of the team was huddled around him as the team healer, Maxine, hovered over his right leg, magically stitching the wound back together.

Marcus groaned, trying to sit up. Maxine pushed him back down. "Stay down, Flint, or I'll be forced to do things the muggle way." That was enough to get Marcus to lay back down on the grass.

"My broom?" he asked.

"It's fine," Elliot answered. "Kit Kat did a good job." At Katie's nickname, Gilbert's frown deepened. Elliot asked, "Did you have any part of this?"

Marcus had no idea what Elliot was talking about. Whatever it was obviously angered him, so Marcus didn't want to have a part in it. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"I told you he wouldn't know," Lavinia said. There was pity in her voice. Why was there pity in her voice? Panic flared in Marcus's chest. Pity from Lavinia was never a good sign.

Last he remembered, Marcus had been demonstrating a Hubble Twist to Cassian and Rye. He remembered the pain in his wrist. He'd done nothing to cause injury, so the sudden pain had caught him off guard. There's been the feeling of fire ripping through his magical core. He'd blacked out as he'd fallen to the ground.

Marcus's gaze drifted to his left wrist. A crest was carved into his skin. The rose and thorns of the Rosier family sat red and puffy. In the center of the rose was a tiny bell. Marcus stared at the scar for a moment as his mind caught up with the events of the last few minutes. The fire he'd felt in his core plus the carving on his wrist was quickly coming together to mean one thing: a proelia bond. Lavinia's pity made a lot more sense now. Gilbert's hate-filled glare, Elliot's question—

"Congrats, buddy," Oliver said with a pathetic wave of his hands. "You're engaged."

A bell in a rose.

Katie.