Author's Note: The prompt was "Forbidden".

If someone had asked Amelia Bones where she was going to be at 3am on that particular morning, she would not have said sneaking into her brother's house quietly through the back door. Her coat was hanging over her arm and her six inch heels were in her hands, as she gently pushed on the wood, willing it to open without a noise. She had been having drinks with a friend, an old friend, one she hadn't seen in a long time. They had been having such intense conversation, that hours had flown by without Amelia noticing. Now she was being forced to creep back inside like a burglar, something she hadn't had to do since her teens.

The only reason she had to do it was because of her brother, Laurence. She was staying with him, his wife, Rebecca, and their daughter, Susan. It was Susan's summer holidays and Amelia had been given some time off, so Laurence suggested she come and stay with them. It was at this point he had decided that the next two weeks were going to be, what he had labelled, "family bonding time". They went on walks, played games, had meals together. By the end of the first week, Amelia had decided that the real reason Purebloods hated Muggles was because they had invented the game of Scrabble, an activity Amelia had been exposed to every evening (one she wasn't particularly fond of). But the overlying rule of the family holiday, was that Laurence had forbidden them from doing any individual activities. He said that they didn't spend enough time together as it was, so they were going to make up for it now. After a while, this rule had grown rather tiresome, for all involved; but Laurence was determined to see it through. Amelia theorized that he was only being so strict because he was in a bad mood, something that stemmed from a ban his wife had placed on junk food, due to his high cholesterol. What ever the reason, if Amelia was caught like this there would be consequences; Laurence had been threatening to bust out the Monopoly for days now and this was exactly the kind of push he needed.

Amelia closed the door and tiptoed along the small corridor that led to the kitchen. Up ahead a tap was dripping, but otherwise it was silent. The tiles were cool underneath Amelia's bare feet as she walked along, each step carefully planned. She almost swore as she knocked her heels against the wall, a small bang echoing through the stillness.

"Good evening," a voice said quietly.

Amelia spun around in a panic, her heart beating. Standing by the sink, holding a cup of water and wearing her pajamas, was her niece, Susan. Her long, red hair was tied back in a plait and her eyes, the same grey colour as Amelia's, glistened. She wore a smile on her face as she looked at her aunt.

"Or should I say morning?" the girl added.

Amelia groaned. This was not going well.

"If you mention this at all to your father," she whispered, "I will disinherit you."

"Fine," Susan grinned, "but you'll have to inherit me first."

"Done," Amelia said.

She went over to the cupboard and took a cup from the shelf. Holding it under the tap, she filled it with water and joined Susan in a drink.

"Cheers," she whispered, clinking her glass against her niece's.

It was then she noticed something on Susan's hand. Placing the glass down on the bench, she reached forward. The girl tried to pulled away but years of training had left Amelia with excellent reflexes. Drawn in black ink, just below the girl's thumb, was a little star. Amelia's eyes lit up.

"You've got a tattoo!" she said with an almost gleeful ring to her voice.

Susan blushed and pulled her hand away.

"You're only fifteen!" Amelia exclaimed, getting a little more sense in her, "God, what did your mother say?"

Susan reddened further.

"Oh," Amelia said with dawning understanding, "That explains the industrial sized bottle of concealer you wanted for your birthday."

Though she hated to admit it, Amelia now held a large amount of leverage over her niece. The chances of her ever being able to leave the house again if her mother found out about this were very, very slim.

"When did you get it?" Amelia asked.

"A few months back," Susan muttered, "Hannah knew a guy in Knockturn Alley. We all got one."

"Knockturn Alley?" Amelia sighed, "Well that makes the whole situation a lot better."

"Please, you can't tell her," Susan begged, "Or I'll tell Dad you snuck out to go on a date."

Amelia pursed her lips.

"It wasn't a date," she said defensively, "it was a thing."

"A thing?" Susan said skeptically.

"Yes," Amelia nodded, "he's just a friend."

"A friend?" Susan said, "What's he like?"

"He's Irish," Amelia replied with a smile, "And beautiful."

"And a friend," Susan reminded her.

"Yes," Amelia said coldly.

But Susan was shaking her head, grinning.

"Lies, blatant lies," she said, indicating the navy blue, beaded dress that Amelia was wearing, "You're clearly making an effort. It was a date."

"Wasn't," Amelia hissed.

"Totally was!" Susan hissed back.

"Shh!" Amelia exclaimed, "Do you want your parents to come down here? You with a tattoo and me with a, a thing?"

It was at that moment that there suddenly happened to be footsteps coming down the staircase; both witches swore.

"It's okay," Amelia said, "We'll tell whoever it is that we came down for a glass of water."

"Like heck!" Susan said, "I've not covered this thing and you're dressed up like you stepped out of The Great Gatsby. Get in the pantry!"

If someone had asked Amelia Bones where she was going to be at 3.17am on that particular morning, she would not have said hiding with her niece between the cereals. Crouched on the floor of the pantry, her knees curled up, she could see, through the crack of the doors, her brother enter the kitchen. He went over the bench, looked a little confused at the two glasses, then placed them in the sink. After that he turned and headed towards where the women were hidden. Thinking quickly, Amelia pulled her wand from her coat and cast a Disillusionment charm. She saw Susan's foot melt away as the doors were pulled open. Laurence, not noticing anything amiss, reached onto one of the shelves and pulled out a jar of cookies. Amelia's face broke out into a triumphant smile; with his night time snacking, it appeared that she wasn't the only one breaking the rules. Looking around furtively, he took a cookie and then hurried out of the room. When he had gone, Amelia waved her wand again and stepped out of the pantry.

"That little sneak," she said as she helped Susan to her feet.

"Do you think that some pointed questioning about the slowly decreasing population of cookies in this house might be warranted?" Susan asked with a grin.

"Oh yes," Amelia replied, "that would most definitely be warranted."