She looked at these people, no older than 17, already deciding what's morally right and just. And soon they will inherit their parent's influence and power. And soon they will continue their dynasty built on those same beliefs.

They're just kids. And that's frightening.

In the distant cold somewhere, a barren land of snow surrounds a small village—on fire. A man stumbles into his home, hurriedly gathered the scattered files and parchment into a suitcase. He hears a scream outside and immediately stands.

There is another man in his house, "What the fuck are you still doing here!?"

"On ne dolzhen poluchit' eto!" He shouts, grabbing kerosene from under the couch and splatters it all over the place. "Ty idi! YA derzhu eto pod kontrolem!"

The other splutters, "But I cursed you spea—"

"Idti! Seychas!" He screams, and it seemed to convinced the other man.

The other man ran into the fireplace as green flames erupted. He was gone, the man tore the fireplace down. His doors burst open, wizards in black cloaks point their wands but he runs and reaches for a flowerpot—

The portkey takes him right outside a large summer mansion. He falls to the grass, out of breath. The sunlight blares through his eyes but a silhouette towers over him.

"Mr. Sokolovsky? We're Aurors of the Britain Wizarding Ministry. You're under arrest."

"Der'mo."

"Speak English!" yelled the irritated Auror across the metal desk, his voice echoing in the interrogation room.

Mr. Sokolovsky, equally irritated says, "Ya ne mogu!"

The Auror flips his hands up and turns back with hands on his face, groaning in annoyance.

"Fuck this! If you can't prove you're not associated with Grindelwald I'll throw you in Azkaban!" he threatens, finger pointing at the Russian man.

Sokolovsky just gives him this deadpan look, "Net, ne budesh'."

The other Auror in the room looks at his partner in pity, "Let's just report this to boss and have someone else handle it. We're going nowhere."

"Fine, let's go."

Their superior officer, an old balding man—pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Have you tried lifting curses? A language barrier shouldn't stop you," suggested the old man to his two Aurors.

"Sir, we can't lift curses if we don't know what kind of curse," said the brown-haired one. "And besides—"

"Excuse me sirs?" tapped the shoulder of the taller black-haired auror—a young woman. "Do you know where Chairman Velásquez's office is?"

The old man frowned, "Just hold on a second miss," he said to her as he faced his subordinates. "Do you have a name at least?"

"Yes sir, he said his name was Ivan Sokolovsky."

The woman's eyes widened, "Sokolo—Ivan? I know him!"

The three men snapped their heads at her, "You know him?" repeated the old man.

"Yes! He's my brother!"

The two Aurors looked at each other.

A minute later, Anaztaja found herself in the same interrogation room as her brother. She sighed as the two Aurors rattled of a report somewhere before she can clear up the misunderstanding, knowing she should just wait for their sister.

"This is your fault."

"Otvali."

Andrea made her way to the Great Hall with Euphy by her side. It's not uncommon to seat with other houses, plenty of people do it all the time. Especially Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. Hufflepuffs upholding their reputation as the friendliest House, but it's somewhat of a social rule in Slytherin to never seat in any other house except for Ravenclaw. Slytherins tolerate them somehow.

Not like she'd give a shit on what other people think on where she goddamn sits. (She does). Andy looks up to Euphy, mindlessly sipping from her goblet and staring at something behind her.

"What are you looking at?" Andy asked, Euphy looking back a bit shy and red.

She stammered for a second, "Merricks. Lucas Merricks," Euphy answered.

The Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain? "Why?"

"Just be grateful I'm not staring at Riddle," Euphy deadpanned. Andrea gagged.

The blonde rolled her eyes at her friend's exaggeration, "Andy, stop being dramatic."

"I know, I'm just glad that you don't swoon over the bastard," Andy assures. "He reminds me of a psychopath."

Euphy rose a brow at this, "Just remind me to give you a couple of muggle psychology books. They're an interesting read."

"Andy, just because I am a Ravenclaw does not mean I like to read all the time," Euphy explains, tone bordering on annoyance. Andy grinned.

"Alright I won't send you the books then—" "—wait that's not what I mea—"

Andy laughed. "I know, I know, I was just joking with you."

Euphy hides the flush of her cheeks by pretending to drink. "Sometimes I wonder why we're friends."

Sometimes I wonder why we're --, I don't know how we ended up like this—

"Because you love me," said Andy, burying her thoughts with a smile.

Euphy sighed, "Well, it's no surprise that one time I leave you alone in Defense class you came back with bruises and scrapes."

"That was thetime Professor Merrythought suddenly declared all lessons from now on to be hands-on. And besides, I'm pretty sure he was out to kill me," said Andy, twirling the knife in hand.

"Why did the lessons change?" she curiously asked.

Andy gave a confident smile, "It's because the Headmaster told her to. Remember when there was a commission held? Right after that, Professor Merrythought was called to the office.

"We had Defense later that day, but that changed. I think the Ministry just wants to encourage more students to become Aurors to defeat Grindelwald," Andy concluded with a flash of a toothy grin.

Euphy leans against the table and asks, "What's it with you and conspiracy theories?"

"Just for fun. Imagine believing a lie your whole life, how fucked up would that be?"

Maria Velásquez pinched the bridge of her nose, "How the fuck did my siblings—a famous potions master and a dark arts professor—end up getting arrested by mediocre aurors?"

Ivan shrugged as he sank down in the comfortable leather chairs.

"I don't know Mari, how did Ivan get cursed to speak Russian?" Ana sarcastically mocked, standing up and looking at the trinkets in the room.

"It vas one time. And it vas necessary—" countered the Russian man.

"—or maybe it's your crippling paranoia." Ana finished it for him.

"Or maybe my crippling paranoia," Ivan agreed. "But, it vas to enzure no one vould zuspect me."

Maria understood his explanation, however she said, "Nonetheless, you should have thought about a situation like this happening."

While the two were talking, the Polish woman walked around the room and saw a framed photograph of the whole Stone family. All five siblings young and bright-eyed. She smiled at the nostalgia.

"How is Antony and Julia?" Ivan asked, standing beside Ana and admiring the photo.

Maria looked at a painting by Julia, a landscape of Valencia in a midsummer morning. "They said they'll be in time for Christmas."

A memory flashed in Ana's head. "Do you remember in Christmas, Maria stuck her tongue to a metal spoon—and father thought it was because of the cold—but it's actually because Antony had a sticking charm to—"

"We're not fourteen anymore. Act like it," Maria said, stern and unamused.

"You're just old," Ana snickered, with Ivan muffling giggles.

"I am the oldest," the Chairman stated. "And I have a daughter."

Ivan took the framed photo beside the Stone family one, he stared at a young Maria and an empty-eyed seven-year old Andrea. Maria's daughter looked so sickly, frail, and malnourished. Far different from the Andrea now.

"Have you told her yet?" Ivan whispered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

Maria glanced away, grasping her arms with tight hands. Her pursed lips and refusal to look them in the eye gave the answer.

Ana walked up to her and held her shoulders, "You need to tell her this Christmas break. The sooner the more worse it would be."

"I know."

It was not the first time Andy and Riddle were partners in potions class. Slughorn was always insistent on pairing them together, as if hoping their mildly antagonistic view of each other would simply disappear.

Of course, after the duel, things were worse. Well, they seem worse. They won't outright say they hate each other right in front of a teacher and classmates—but the subtlety of a too-wide smile and a slightly sarcastic voice with intentions to humiliate the other were far too great of an offer than being blunt.

Today, they were brewing a Wiggenweld Potion. Easy enough task for both of them. Though Andrea's pretty sure he's forming a plan in his head that involves damaging her grades and reputations without her dragging down his.

Talking is minimal unless necessary. Riddle volunteered to do the ingredient preparation as Andy placed the cauldron in heat. Out of the corner of her eye she sees him—

"No! You don't break the bark," she says, stopping him before he does, suddenly pursing her lips in regret for overstepping in a minor mistake.

He gives her…this mocking look. "Really? How do you suppose it fit in the cauldron then? It needs to be fully submerged."

She takes the Wiggenweld bark and places it in the boiling cauldron, "You place it and let the heat bend it before submerging it quickly. Breaking the bark would release more than necessary properties."

Riddle only hummed as a reply, the two felt watchful gazes on them, still, Andrea continues, "After the bark, the cauldron only needs to simmer, not boil. That will give us enough time to prepare the ingredients—right?"

"Right. Of course," he affirms, tilting his head slightly as a subtle insult, they both turn and work on their stations.

When Slughorn hovers over their cauldron, give usual appraise and compliments and points, Riddle doesn't observe the reactions of his classmates—he observes her. She tries to ignore the burning gaze at the literal back of her head as she bows down and continues to chop the Moly flowers.

Do your goddamn work and stop staring at me! She wants to scream, but keeps her lips tight and sealed as she knows he knows that she's aggressively hitting the knife on the chopping board loud enough for him and everyone else in the room.

But then some student shouts in the corner—Andrea looked up to see the students trying to take a good look behind her, when she turns—she sees two things:

A cauldron is overflowing with green foam.

And her classmates heads turned to the accident—except Riddle. who's facing her directly. Why is he looking at her—

Accident—when Andy fell from the vineyard wall—when Maria patches up the scratches on her knees—when Andy broke Maria's winery—LOOK AWAY!

Her eyes snap back at the finely chopped flowers, she tries so bad not to let the snarl form on her face. This is the second time he does this. She hears Slughorn lecture on the student and fix the mess. Tom's gaze still hissing even though she hears his clattering and movements.

She rationalizes in her head.

I have nothing to hide. Nothing to be afraid of. Search all you want Riddle, I don't know what the fuck you want with me but I know the consequences. Whatever mess or fiasco you're trying to start—fucking watch me Riddle.

Watch me.

a/n: introduction of ivan and ana! russian translations, all google translated im sorry:

"On ne dolzhen poluchit' eto" (He should not have it!)

"Ty idi! YA derzhu eto pod kontrolem" (You go! I have this under control!)

"Idti! Seychas!" (Go! Now!)

"Speak English!" "Ya ne mogu!" (I can't!)

"Fuck this! If you can't prove you're not associated with Grindelwald I'll throw you in Azkaban!" "Net, ne budesh'." (No, you won't).

"This is your fault" "Otvali" (Fuck off)

chapter title comes from arctic monkey's 'this house is a circus'. there's an ocean's 11 reference here, and also a fairly obvious quirrel reference. hope you enjoyed the chapter, please point out any mistakes i made, and read and review, thanks!