Tony and Evey Apparated in front of an imposing building. A manor house, Evey realised. The Ancients must have residences all over the world. This one was situated in the midst of an immense park, and the back of the house was surrounded by woods.

She whistled softly. "Fancy."

"Glad you like it. It's partly yours, after all. Or it will be, anyway," Tony said with a grin.

She scowled at him. "Wait… Is this Walden's place?" He nodded. "But I thought it was under a Fidelius Charm." She glanced at the house again. "How can I see it? I've never had that ability before." She hadn't seen through the ward when Greyback had brought her to Asgard, not until he revealed the secret to her.

"The charm was broken," Tony explained.

Of course, Evey thought. Walden had died, and the secret should have been passed on to the only other person who knew it. But Tony had died as well; the secret, with no mind of its own to realise that the two potential Keepers were still 'alive', had had no one to attach itself to. "So…anyone can find it. Isn't that dangerous? Why are we meeting here?"

Tony shrugged. "The Fidelius was only an extra safeguard. The Macnairs have owned the domain for centuries. There are hundreds of wards and other spells in place, some older than half of the Ancients, and others that we added after Voldemort revealed his true agenda. I've learned a thing or two when I served him." Black magic, Evey assumed. "The house is almost as well-protected as Hogwarts itself." He gestured toward the front door and they started walking in that direction. "Besides," he went on, "the others certainly have places somewhere in the UK, most of them anyway, but they weren't too keen on revealing their location. They already knew where the manor was, thanks to Jeanne, so I figured it wouldn't matter."

"But I thought Walden was the only one who could invite you in? You told me that even you were not allowed inside until he said the words."

"Same problem as with the Fidelius. When Walden died, I believe that the house stopped recognising him as the owner. That right has either passed on to Caraid, by default, or it has been lost altogether, at least for the time being. Until we start living here again, I suspect."

"What about Caraid, then? Is he still here?" They had mentioned him before. Walden was quite fond of the old house elf.

"Oh, he's as good as ever. He'll outlive us all, you'll see." He frowned slightly when he realised what he'd said. "Well, some of us, at any rate," he muttered. Shaking his head, he continued. They had reached the staircase that led to the door. "We've been visiting him a lot these last few months, so I expect that it had a positive impact on him and his health. He must have felt quite lonely last year."

"You've been allowed outside?" Well, he was outside now, but Evey had assumed that it was an exceptional occasion, following her release.

"Sure. To look for you. Molly said we could, and that she'd cover for us if anyone enquired." He stopped suddenly, his pale hand on the doorknob, and gave her a sheepish look. "We did look for you, you know. I didn't mean to imply that we'd spent all that time having tea parties with Caraid. Walden never relented, even after the Ancients promised to help and the Wolves agreed, too."

Evey laughed softly. "I don't doubt that for a second," she assured him. "Come on. Let's get this over with quickly, so I can return to him," she added, cocking her head toward the door.

The Ancients were all gathered in the dining room. It was a large room, tidy and decorated with old-fashioned taste. Tony explained that Walden hadn't used it in years – like most of the house, in fact. He never received any guests or visitors, so there was no point in using the long mahogany table. Caraid insisted on keeping it squeaky clean, though.

The house elf was nowhere in sight now. One of the Ancients, a pretty woman with delicate features, explained that Caraid had been told to find some occupation elsewhere while they talked. She then indicated the end of the table, where two empty chairs awaited them. Evey reluctantly took a seat beside Jeanne, who ignored her entirely but threw a murderous glare in Tony's direction. He sat next to Evey, as far from the French woman as he could get.

Across the table from Evey sat a short, handsome woman with lustrous black hair. Her midnight blue gown sparkled in the light provided by the chandelier – an electrical appliance, Evey noticed with some surprise. She hadn't expected any Muggle commodities in the ancient house, although it made sense: Walden's father had been as curious and fond of Muggle technology as Arthur Weasley was.

The woman was looking straight at her with dark, calculating eyes. Evey couldn't suppress a shudder.

It wasn't the Bloodmother who spoke, however. It was the tall man who sat three chairs away from her, on her left. He had a deep, oddly accented voice. "Miss Kane. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said with a slight bow of his shaved head. She made no reply, so he continued. "I understand that the past few months must have been…difficult for you, but this won't take long, I assure you. I'm sure you yearn for the comfort of your own home, and the presence of your beloved." She nodded at that, and held back a smile at the word beloved. She briefly wondered how Walden would react if she called him that. "Of course. Let us begin, then. Has Antonin explained to you the reason of this…gathering?"

"In broad terms. I understand that he is to be judged for turning Walden, who is not an Ancient. And I suppose you'll want to learn more about me," she added grimly. It was everything she'd feared since she'd found out that she was different. People looking at her like she was some strange beast, studying her from every angle and assessing her. Trying to determine if she was more human or monster. Perhaps even deciding if she deserved to live at all.

The man inclined his head in affirmation. "Given your improbable status, we have decided to make an exception and, for the moment at least, to consider you as one of us. I will introduce everyone present, as I believe it will make the proceedings less…awkward."

And he did, one by one, starting with himself. "I am Imhotep," he said, placing a hand on his chest. He was wearing a well-cut grey shirt. Then he indicated the tall, red-haired woman to his right, who sat next to Tony's maker. "This is Alice Kyteler, my progeny, and your friend Antonin's grandmother, so to speak. I believe you have already met Jeanne," he went on, pointing to the slender woman beside her. And so on until he reached the woman who sat on his left, Zenobia, former queen of the Palmyrene Empire – sometime around the 3rd century, if Evey remembered correctly. Imhotep gave her everyone's real name, not the silly nicknames she'd heard before, except for the Bloodmother and the woman who sat next to her. She was just 'The Ripper'. If Evey hadn't been so anxious to see and talk to Walden, and worried about Antonin, she would have been eager to pelt them all with a thousand questions. She doubted that they would allow it, though.

"Now that all the niceties have been dealt with, can we move on to business?" Jeanne said curtly.

Imhotep nodded. "Indeed." He turned to Evey once more, leaning forward in his chair. "What can you tell us of your family? How far back can you go along your family tree?"

Not very far, Evey guessed. They must have different standards than mortals on the matter, certainly. She couldn't even name her great-grandmother on her father's side. Imhotep was clearly disappointed, all the more when she told them that she came from an all-Muggle family. If anyone had had a smidgen of magic in them, she didn't know about it. Gorgo announced that she would research Evey's ancestors with the few clues she'd given them, before their next meeting. It was part of her 'job', apparently.

Then Alice asked her if anything else had happened during her time in Greyback's captivity, or if Tony had omitted anything in his account of her abilities. Tony glanced at her sideways, but she didn't know how to interpret the nervous gleam in his eyes. They already knew pretty much everything; what effect would the knowledge of her transformation into a werewolf have?

As she opened her mouth to reply, the door banged open.

Jeanne startled at the sound. She hadn't heard the front door open. She had been too intent on the girl and what revelations she was about to make – Jeanne had caught Antonin's apprehensive look. Was he hiding something from her? Wasn't it enough that he'd humiliated her in front of everyone, earlier? Including those damned Wolves. How dare he disobey her! After everything she'd done for him, all the risks she'd taken to make sure the damned girl was returned to them!

She glanced toward the door. It was Walden, of course. Was it already so late? She glowered at him with unsuppressed irritation. He was just as rude as his brother, to barge in like that, without even knocking.

Granted, it was his home, but still.

The girl jumped to her feet and ran to him, as was to be expected. Comme c'est mignon, Jeanne thought wryly. People nowadays had no notion of discretion. They were always touching each other in public, sometimes even kissing right there in the open! She allowed them a brief moment, but eventually put an end to it. "If you don't mind, we would like to resume our–"

"I do mind, as it happens." Walden had raised his head at last, although the girl was still clinging to him as if afraid that he might take flight. He looked furious, now that the initial relief and joy at being reunited with his beloved – Imhotep could be so vieux jeu, sometimes – was slowly fading. "What the hell were you thinking?" he barked at them. "She's been gone five months! Couldn't you give her some respite? Some time to recover? Was a day or a week to much to ask? You're immortal, burn you, what's the fucking rush?"

"We have better things to do than wait in this God-forsaken land for however long it will take her to recover," Cat retorted. "And we do not have your aptitude to travel long distances in a split second, in case you'd forgotten." She looked outraged at his sudden interruption. Most of the Ancients considered Walden a bastard – or worse – and they were embarrassed on Jeanne's behalf, knowing that it was her progeny who had begotten him. That particular matter was far from settled, that was certain.

"We wanted to take the opportunity that we were all already in England to consult with Miss Kane," Vlad went on more calmly. "It is quite a rare occurrence that we are all gathered together in the same place, except for those planned meetings every once in a while."

"You only think about yourselves, don't you?" Walden growled. "We mere mortals are not worthy of consideration."

The girl stirred at his side. "Wal, it's fine," she murmured. "Let's just be done with this, then they'll leave us alone."

"You'd better listen to her," Jeanne told him sternly. "I don't care for your whining. Do you have any idea what you asked of us? We haven't interfered in mortal affairs in centuries, and none of our previous involvements ever included that of the Wolves! Do you realise that we allied with them for the single purpose of rescuing her? How dare you say that we–"

"Oh, what tosh!" he thundered. "You know very well why you went through the trouble of finding her, and it didn't have anything to do with any concern about her well-being, or mine, or even Tony's," the infuriating man had the nerve to say. "You want to use her."

"And rightly so, after your brother messed up so thoroughly," the Ripper countered angrily. "What choice do we have? If she cannot bear children–"

"I'm sorry, what?" the girl interrupted her, eyes wide with shock. She finally let go of Walden to cross her arms over her chest. He put his hand on her shoulder protectively. "I must have misheard that last bit."

"You fool." Jeanne glared at the couple. "I'm not denying it. Nobody here will deny it. That is the only reason why we rescued her, for it is the only way we can make up for Antonin's...mistake. I believe that it was more than implied when we discussed the matter."

"I'm not a fucking breeder!" the girl lashed out. "Hell, I don't even want kids. I'm not responsible for Tony's actions, damn you." She turned to Antonin, biting her lower lip. "I'm sorry, mate, but I'm not."

"I know, love," Antonin said softly. "Don't worry. Wal and I never meant to allow that to happen."