I recognised the discreet background music. Although I wasn't a huge classical music fan, Mum cleaned every March to The Rite of Spring, and the haunting bassoon solo was unmistakeable. It had to be the shock of seeing Evan chatting amicably with Tom, but I found Stravinsky and Italian cuisine an oddly amusing combination. Had someone slipped the management a pile of Galleons to arrange it?

With a start, I became aware that the restaurant host was waiting for me to announce my presence. The trio hadn't noticed me, so I cleared my throat in the imperious manner I once heard from a Ministry bureaucrat. "Hem, hem."

Tom glanced up with a frown. I stared at him coolly until he stood and pulled out the chair across from the brunette with brassy blonde highlights. "Hello, CeCe."

The nickname belonged to a bubby blonde: not one who could freeze water with a single glance. The woman on the other side of the table stretched her lips in a smile that seemed practised to avoid wrinkles. I considered giving her a few temporary ones. She'd been eyeing Tom as if he were on the menu.

"I'm pleased you chose to join us, Cecelia," said Evan.

I felt a sudden chill at his smooth tone. Were he and the glacier-woman I was impersonating having an affair? It wouldn't surprise me. Evan seemed to enjoy mixing business with pleasure, and fidelity to him was a relative term.

My lack of response earned a smile. "Are you still miffed by the last-minute invitation? Surely my explanation was sufficient to smooth ruffled feathers."

I let my gaze flicker past Tom to the unknown woman. "For some, perhaps."

A snort from my left brought my head around. Tom said, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here, cousin, so cut the act and let's get this meeting over with."

"But I wanted to try the strawberry risotto," said the witch, looking from one man to the other.

"Here comes our server now, Maris." Evan waited until the white-clad server withdrew before explaining, "Risotto isn't a traditional Tuscan habit, but I find the softened onion and carrot echo the strawberries' sweetness and highlight their acidity."

I nodded, wondering when he'd turned into a foodie. I didn't remember Evan being such a gourmand, but maybe he'd changed since we'd parted. I sure had.

"I came for the Prosecco," Tom said, lifting his glass before sipping the contents. We all followed suit. I kept my face blank, but I was concerned. My pal gave the impression of bottled tension, and I hoped he wouldn't try to drink the entire magnum single-handedly.

I'd tasted Prosecco before. On Valentine's Day, Remus took me to a small, family run Trattoria and ordered the chilled sparkling wine to accompany our seafood. It wasn't expensive, but it was excellent—probably why Evan wasn't turning up his nose. The wine was also less fizzy than its French counterpart, which I considered a blessing. The last thing I wanted to do was get the hiccups or burp!

During the perfunctory table conversation, Maris smiled at everything Evan said, but kept her attention fixed on Tom in a way that pissed me off. I didn't mind being ignored by a snooty witch, but Tom Fenton was my best mate's boyfriend, and I knew several hexes that would humiliate without causing harm.

I was seconds away from causing one of those bleached blonde streaks to slide off her head and into her wineglass when Tom snapped, "Enough pointless chit chat. Tell us why you called us here, Fenton."

"Thomas, Thomas, you have no appreciation of etiquette."

"Not your kind."

Evan shrugged. "It only matters that you appreciate my goal, since it's one we all share."

"Do we share the same goal?" Tom shot back. "I'm not so sure."

I felt like Alice attending the Mad Hatter's tea party. What in Hades was going on? Tom looked at me. "Should you be seen with us? You have a lot to lose if things go wrong and someone remembers you were here today."

There was nothing I could say without revealing that I was an impostor. I lifted a shoulder and let it fall.

Evan sighed heavily. "Surely you realise her position in the Fenton Corporation gives Cecilia a vested interest in our endeavour." In response to Tom's sceptical look, he said, "What can we do to prove our sincerity?"

"Answer a few questions."

"Do you trust us to be truthful?"

Tom's smile was as ruthless as a Viking raider's. "No. That's why I arrived early and spiked the Prosecco with Veritaserum."

I forced myself not to panic. Veritaserum wasn't foolproof. I had misdirected Aurors during practise interrogations, Tom included. I could do it again. My body disagreed, making the risotto I'd eaten churn in my stomach. I began taking slow, calming breaths.

Maris said, "Ask me anything, Thomas."

"Why did you come to me for advice when you received that first letter?"

She didn't seem to mind risking wrinkles for him, smiling brightly as she said, "My father told me he's working with yours on our betrothal contract. Who better to help me than my future husband?" Maris put her hand on his arm. "It makes me feel better knowing we're in this together."

Women like her brought out the Black in me. I wanted to lunge across the table and rip a brassy hank out by the roots. Didn't she know Tom already had a partner? I morphed to conceal a flush of anger, but it wasn't fast enough. Evan noticed and asked, "Is there something you wish to say, Cecilia?"

It physically hurt to swallow my response of "she's a delusional bitch." I did it, though, and gritted out, "I want to hear what Thomas has to say."

My friend moved his arm out of Maris's reach. "I say it's another example of how pure-blooded families live in the past, blindly following old ways." He pinned each one of us with a steely gaze in turn and said, "I won't give one Knut to a blackmailer threatening to expose connections to You-Know-Who, even if the Ministry confiscates every asset our family has." Tom asked Evan, "What about you?"

"I'd pay, if I thought our mutual extortionist wouldn't keep making demands until Rosier Industries had no assets worth seizing."

Tom turned to me. "Why did you betray my confidence and go to Rosier? Are you sleeping together?"

My stomach began twisting in knots. To avoid answering directly, I put myself in Cecilia Fenton's square-toed shoes and said, "He was the logical choice to ask for help. Everyone in our circle knows his company privately donates enormous sums to a certain group while maintaining a public image of neutrality. Evan—" I had to break off. Not answering the last part of the question was becoming increasingly painful. Unable to fight the compulsion to tell the truth, I gasped out, "No."

Tom relaxed slightly. Evan didn't lift an eyebrow, so he and CeCe weren't having an affair. Relieved not to have my pretence exposed, I gazed at my wine glass longingly, but wasn't about to drink any more Veritaserum. Who knew what someone would ask?

"Are you in love with Tom?"

Why had I tempted fate? I glared at Maris. She had some nerve asking that. He was my…Cecelia's…first cousin, for Merlin's sake! I said coldly, "Are you asking me or Evan?"

"Sorry, I prefer a combination of XX chromosomes," drawled the man to my left.

Maris didn't find him amusing anymore. "Why isn't she answering?" she demanded Tom. "Didn't we all drink Veritaserum?"

My mate was eyeing me speculatively. I said, "I don't believe your question deserves an answer, but no, I'm not, although of course I love Tom. He's my…" I tried to say cousin, but I couldn't. Damn. And I'd thought Blacks cousins of every pure-blooded house there was. I hoped my pauses would come across as Slytherin disdain for sentimentality as I said, "My friend."

"How sweet," murmured Evan.

I ignored him to do a little demanding of my own. "Why do you ask, Maris? Are you jealous of the women Tom cares for?"

"Yes," she spat out.

I sneered. "Better get used to it. You're not even on the list."

"My dear ladies," Evan cut in. "Please remember who you are and where we are. This spat, while entertaining, accomplishes nothing. It is in each of our best interests to work together for our common good." He saw my smirk and arched an eyebrow.

I wasn't compelled to answer, but I couldn't resist saying, "You used the word common. Are you breaking out in hives?"

"Not yet, but you may check for them later if you desire," he said silkily before taking a folded sheet of parchment out of his suit jacket and extending it to Tom. "Here's the second letter, demanding payment next Friday."

Tom looked it over and handed it to me. "It looks like the same handwriting as the ones Maris and I received."

Praise the stars he hadn't asked my opinion. I wouldn't know how to answer. Nodding, I returned the parchment to Evan, who said, "My in-house enquiry team is of no use, for obvious reasons, but you're an Auror, don't you have any contacts, any resources you can use to find whoever is behind these letters?"

"I…" Everyone looked at me. I was angry with myself for slipping. Even though the question was for someone else, it was non-specific, and I was an Auror too. I should've bit my tongue!

"What is it, CeCe?" asked Tom.

It was like being back in school and getting tagged to answer the professor's question because I'd raised a hand to push my hair out of my face. I thought fast and said, "The Auror offices shouldn't be involved. You don't want a paper trail or too many questions asked. You need help from another…unofficial…source."

"You mean dodgier," Tom said flatly.

Evan was looking at me with interest. "Do you know of such a source?"

I tried to prevaricate, "Perhaps." After all, I couldn't volunteer Mundungus's services without his permission.

"Will you arrange for us to meet with him?"

I had no problem telling Evan, "No. He likes to keep interaction with clients to a minimum."

"So it's harder to testify against him in court," said Tom. "I don't care how crooked your source is. I'm not an Auror right now. I'm a man who needs a job done. Will you arrange a meeting for me?"

This was Tom. The man Julia loved and my friend. I was a soft touch when it came to helping a mate. Remus and I had that in common; we found it hard to say no. I tried, though. I really did. I was practically hunching over in pain before I broke and said, "Yes."

Evan signalled for a new bottle of wine. After a sip of untainted Prosecco, I pushed to my feet and told Tom, "I'll owl you with the details, and then I'm going to forget this conversation took place. I can't afford to get more involved." That was the truth. Impersonating Cecilia Fenton was a one-time deal. Even if my acting skills were up to the task, I refused to use Memory Charms on a regular basis. I didn't want anyone's memory damage on my conscience.

"So much for love," said Maris, curling a thin lip. Suddenly, the image of a vulture circling a wounded animal, waiting for it to die, came to mind. If she thought to get what was left of Tom after his relationship with Julia ended, the predatory witch was going to be waiting forever.

I looked down my nose, giving the impression of refusing to dignify that remark while silently chanting a spell. Tersely, I said, "Good day." As I stepped from the veranda into the main dining chamber, a shriek coming from outside startled a server into dropping a bottle of wine. I reached out and caught it, smiling when he thanked me. Part of the smile was for him, but the rest was from imagining the look on Maris's face when she lifted her glass to see a lock of hair floating inside.

.

Before I could return home, I had to stop by Cecilia's flat and fine-tune the memory spell.

Hestia put aside her floral cross-stitch when I stepped out of the fireplace. "She's still sleeping like a baby."

I thanked her for waiting and told her the particular adjustments needed. Hestia nodded and headed into the bedroom to plant false memories. Tom's cousin would vaguely remember attending the meeting and passing on the information about an individual described as a dodgy, yet useful, before determining to keep her distance from now on.

"Professor Flitwick always said I had the potential to be a brilliant Obliviator," Hestia said when she returned.

That was why I made sure to cast Shield Charms before being alone with her. I still didn't trust her not to try and fiddle with my memories about Remus. She might have a partner now, but that didn't reassure me Hestia wasn't biding her time like Maris. Trying to sound interested, I asked, "Why didn't you go into that field?"

"Oh, it was all men in those days, and I didn't want to be seen as unfeminine."

I blinked. "Is that a mickey take? You're one of the most girly-girls I know."

Hestia seemed pleased, although my remark hadn't exactly been a compliment. "Thank you. I'm happier in my position at the Magical Beings Office, where I can help the unfortunate."

I hoped she didn't use that Lady Bountiful tone on the "unfortunate." They might not appreciate it. Shrugging, I said, "I'm the one who needs to thank you for all your help." I used a charm to negate any magical detection spells Cecilia might employ in the near future and walked toward the fireplace. "What time is dinner Friday night?"

"Eight o'clock sharp." Hestia beamed. "Don't bother to bring anything. I know cookery is not your forte, so I talked to Remus, and he'll pick up a few bottles of wine."

My smile turned sour. I waved her ahead of me. "I'll look forward to it. Thanks again."

.

Remus wasn't there when I returned to the flat. I immediately headed back into the fireplace after a hasty grab of Floo Powder. Inwardly cursing my tardiness, I called out the name of the restaurant. It was over two hours since I'd left. I should've known Remus wasn't kidding about tracking me down!

The host lifted her eyebrows to see me, but didn't say a word when I headed straight toward the veranda. No one I recognised was dining out there. Unsure what to do, I walked back through the dining area and Flooed home. When I entered the lounge this time, Remus was sitting on the sofa. He wasn't alone.

Tom was with him.

I almost fainted, swaying on my feet as I said, "What's going on?"

My friend smiled thinly. "Why don't you tell me?"

I wasn't ready for that. Instead, I turned to Remus. "I went back to the restaurant. Where were you?"

He raised a bottle of beer. "We walked down to the off-licence."

A burst of hysteric laughter escaped my throat. "Well, a very merry un-birthday to me!" I cried, rushing to the bedroom and slamming the door behind me.

I'd returned my features to normal, washed the cosmetics off my face in the lav, and changed into a sleeveless vest and jeans when a knock sounded. I went to the door but didn't open it. "Yeah?"

"Come out and talk, Nymphadora."

I shook my head, even though Remus couldn't see it. "Why? You and the White Rabbit seem to be having such a nice chat, I'd hate to interrupt, Mr. Cheshire Cat!"

After a pause, Remus said, "The rhyming . . . . Is that an after-effect of recent poetic endeavour?"

I tried to keep the smile out of my voice. "Maybe, baby." He chuckled. I asked in frustration, "How did Tom know? My performance was flawless!"

"I call my cousin CeCe to annoy her. She corrects me every time. You didn't."

Now Tom was talking to me through the door. I felt silly for hiding in my room and turned the handle, leaning against the open doorframe to say, "That's it? A nickname?"

A look of discomfort crossed his face. "The ability to hold out against Veritaserum was suspicious, too, but when you said you loved me—" Tom glanced at Remus and stressed, "—as a friend, I knew Julia had put you up to taking Cecilia's place." With a half-smile, he said, "After the meeting, I Apparated here and demanded you come out and explain yourself. Remus calmed me down offered to buy me a beer."

"We'd barely returned from the off-licence when you burst in," Remus added.

I closed my eyes and groaned. "Merlin, what a farce my life is."

Remus's arms slid around me, warm and comforting. "Think of it like a circus. You're a very talented high-wire artist."

Tom said, "You fooled the other two completely, so I guess that makes them clowns."

I opened an eye. "Who are you, the lion tamer?"

His laugh was without humour. "I've been waiting for Julia to maul me for months. I haven't been able to share any of my family's problems, so I don't blame her for suspecting the worst."

I turned my head to look him straight on. "Will it really surprise her that your family is backing You-Know-Who any way they can? Jul can handle it. What she can't handle is the fear that you're cheating on her." I left Remus's embrace to poke Tom in the chest with finger. "We ran into Evan at Christmas, and he told us about you considering a "proper betrothal." I told Julia he was lying, but he wasn't, and I bet she's been worrying over it ever since!"

Tom appeared gutted. I pushed past him and headed for the kitchen. To reach the tallest shelf in my cabinet, I used a chair from my bistro set as a stepping stool. In my current frame of mind, if I tried a Levitation Charm I would end up flinging plates against the wall.

Carefully, I brought down a small caramel-coloured leather box that looked like something my Gran would use to store her jewellery. Inside, there was something better than diamonds.

La Maison du Chocolat, kept for emergency purposes only.

The little gift box of chocolate was wickedly expensive and worth every galleon Jan charged. I took a bite and felt better immediately. Grudgingly, I offered the box to the men who had followed me into the kitchen.

"Thanks," said Tom, before taking a bite and exclaiming, "Damn, that's good!"

I watched Remus take a bite. "I know something better." Quickly, I climbed back up to replace the box and then turned to hop down from the chair and into waiting arms. Remus's kiss tasted dark and delicious.

"Should I go wait in the lounge?" Tom asked dryly.

Smiling against Remus's lips was almost as good as kissing them. I sighed and pulled away. "No, I want to know why you haven't told Julia everything you've been dealing with."

Tom said, "Because they threatened to kill her."

.

A/N: Eclectic things inspire! Outrageously expensive chocolates, Alice in Wonderland and the Disney film Fantasia. (Stravinsky said The Rite of Spring performance was 'execrable', but he took the money, lol) as well as Alexander Pope's The Rape of the Lock. Writing the restaurant scene, I suddenly got the urge to make Maris Belinda-like. I didn't show Evan suggesting the lock would be taken into the heavens and immortalised as a constellation, but I thought of it and smirked. The wonderful people whose reviews made me feel like the Cheshire Cat, all smiles, were….… 40/16 aamattsonperdue AAMLrox alix33 Bardlover cupcakeswirl eleen Embellished Fauzia FemmeDraconis FNP give em enough rope GraceRichie Hurley's Belial ishandtwofourths katieweasley Lady Bracknell Lerie Lizet M LupinLover99 Machiavelli Jr MagicalMischiefMakersInc MamaLisa MollyCoddles NazgulGirl Nessime Paloma Patil petiteloupegarou Polaris101 ronandhermy RahNee Slipknot-3113 sunny9847 and Verity Weasley