People say every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Once something has been set in motion, it can't help but produce momentum. The drama began as soon as the long talk from dear, old Pavonia Parkinson ended. It started with a table of affluent middle-aged purebloods that sat Narcissa Malfoy, Caroline Carrow, Autumn Middlemarch, Berkley Sweetleaf, Darla Goldborne, Felicity Greengrass, and Cora Flint. And, of course, this table was surrounded by those who wished they were sitting there. But maybe they should count their blessings and not their associations instead.

All the fake head nods, alliances, and abundance of extravagant jewels couldn't stop this retaliation. What goes around comes around. While the trays of food were being served, suddenly, Darla stood up and poured her drink all over Felicity's head, leaving wet Greengrass. Then Lady Goldborne (ironically dressed in gold lame' zebra pants) turned on her red heels and stalked out of the room in an uproar. While a grand entrance is sufficient, it's a flashy exit people remember the most, especially one like that. That's when a multitude of whispering and inquiries dispersed over the crowd of women.

All eyes turned onto the table, where the remaining ladies cast cleansing charms on Felicity and Narcissa feigned shock. Then out of nowhere, an equally furious Marnie Spencer did the same thing with her wine to Astoria Greengrass. A hush fell over the room as Marnie, and her minions exited. Idalia leaned over to speak softly, "As they say in fashion... one minute you're in, and the next you're out. Pitty."

Hermione snickered behind her white cloth napkin, but she couldn't help wondering, "What happened, do you think?"

Natalia quietly explained, "Most likely, Darla Goldborne and Marnie Spencer learned that the Malfoy boy, Draco, is now betrothed to the youngest Greengrass sister. Why else do you think all of those women are sitting with Narcissa? It's not because she's the life of the party. They all have eligible daughters, save for our niece Cora."

The younger witch hadn't thought about that. "I feel sorry for whoever has to marry that loathsome git, Draco. Even if it is one of these princesses," she mentioned.

Cecilia only muttered a hmmm in response. Her eyes narrowed at the table her daughter sat. She observed the group trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, but their feathers were obviously ruffled. It's in how the women sat or held their utensils and drinks- roughly. They each seemed to wish death or a powerful curse on the Malfoy matriarch for daring to align with the Greengrasses. No one wanted to be in Lady Malfoy's position at present. It's lonely at the top, and one finds friends are hard to come by.

Picking up her own wine glass, the Grand CC stated, "There's nothing like a brisk fall day. Not only do the leaves change, but the air seems to bring out the true colors in everyone. I'm not surprised those piranhas are attacking. It's what they do when something doesn't go their way, and their daughters are just as obnoxious. Thank goodness Marcus is taken."

She motioned to Hermione and told her, "Do warn his friends the women are on the prowl now that the Malfoy spawn is off the market." At that, she sipped her wine but kept her eyes trained on Cora, who pushed her chair back and stood. Apparently, this party is over for the middle-aged elite.

The dowager, Lady Flint, maneuvered her way over to the table filled with family. She wore a green and blue checkered print dress that hit her knees. The colorful dress had a little belt around the middle, making the leggy blonde stand out in a sea of blondes and dull black. Cora smiled sweetly and opened her mouth to speak, but her Aunt Natalia beat her by saying, "Lordy, lordy, look who's forty or at least a well-preserved thirty-seven. What's your secret, niece? Is it the tears of children that you keep in your cabinet?"

Idalia raised a glass in a toast and declared, "No. It's all those deals with the Devil. Be sure to remember Cora; he always comes to collect." Then she stood and walked over to a table of older ladies, not waiting for her niece's response.

Now looking angry with a clenched jaw and a piercing stare to match, Marcus's mother snidely said, "Enough with the conspiracy theories. Hello Aunt Amelia, Hermione, Mother."

At the word mother, Cora gazed coldly at Cecilia and wore an air of boredom. "I see you've managed to dress up the family muggleborn and introduce her to society. Even peasants look good in quality clothes," she noted, looking over the girl's outfit.

Lifting her head, Hermione commented, unable to hold her tongue, "Every girl fantasizes about finding her prince charming. It's a shame they fail to mention that his evil mother is sometimes a part of the package."

Then she looked straight at Cora and greeted her completely unphased, "Hello, smother-in-law. I was wondering, how do you feel about that new wizarding retirement community in Dover? Marcus and I were discussing it the other day." She wore a sugary smile while Cora appeared affronted.

Stifling a laugh, Cecilia acknowledged her daughter. "I see you managed to escape unscathed from your table, Dear. But then, the Art of War was always nestled next to Tinsley Teagarden's book of manners on your shelf."

She saw Cora's face change to slightly less frigid. Taking a risk, the older woman contended, "We really should get together soon to discuss wedding details. Send your schedule over, and we'll make plans."

At the mention of the wedding, Cora looked like she sucked on a lemon. "Yes, I'll be sure to do that, Mother," the blonde affirmed before taking her leave. Her eyes met Hermione's in a challenge, which the younger witch didn't falter even a second.

With a slight nod of acceptance, begrudgingly, Marcus's mother left the building. Only to be followed by a handful of aristocratic females who faked a lack of interest in the event. But honestly, what should a person do when they learn the proverbial cash cow has now been claimed indefinitely? Sitting around and playing nice is for those salt-of-the-earth do-gooders, which these women are not.

Luckily Hermione is. She played nice with the women whose information was on her notecards. It also helped that Marcus's little game played vividly in her mind, which allowed her to remember essential details. And when she had made the rounds with the elder witches, who by and large gave their acceptance to muggleborn, Hermione found herself sitting at a table surrounded by Marcus's best friend's mothers.

The table of Elanore Montague, Audrina Pucey, and Hollie Warrington became the happening table, especially since the Malfoy matriarch's dispersed to all corners. It made Hermione feel at ease while the enemy sat nearby. The trio told stories of their sons and Marcus's younger years. It's the kinds of stories she would have loved to have heard from her fiance's mother, but Hermione reckons that those would be in short supply. Mainly due to how he grew up. No, if she wanted to hear about Marcus as a child, she'd have to ask Ms. CC or listen to these ladies. So she attended and soaked in everything, giving her a little more insight into her man's world and boyhood adventures.

Hollie, the lone witch in the room who was not afraid to wear red, explained, "Marcus was always precocious with a broom. It's no surprise he's a star quidditch player. I remember him and Cassius flying around the back of the estate for hours on end. Even on the day of Clay, my oldest son, and Marcus's sister Clemintine's bridal party dinner at our home, the pair had to be drug inside from flying."

Then the women began asking the younger witch questions about her own upcoming wedding. Hermione told them, "Lady Fawley and I will put all the details together starting next week. I have a lot of good ideas that need an outlet to be shared, so I can't wait to begin dreaming. But do you think Marcus's mother will be of any help? Should I seek her advice and include her in the planning? In truth, she's not been inviting or welcoming towards me, but I don't want to escalate a conflict when there's no cause for one."

The three women all shared looks together before Audrina spoke with her voice like down feathers- soft and fluffy. "Well, protocol demands it. One must always include the pureblood's mother, even if it is the groom. With Marcus being Lord Flint and his family part of the Sacred Twenty-eight, it would be considered a slight if Cora wasn't invited to the wedding planning sessions. However, because she's politely bitter and possibly vindictive beyond measure, you don't have to take what she says lying down."

That was news to Hermione. She never thought three middle-aged, poshy, pureblood women would befriend her. Likewise, she never thought they would have given their consent to push back on Cora Flint, notably because Lady Flint is practically second in command next to Lady Malfoy. So that's an absolute triumph!

Elanore agreed with her friend. "She's right, Hermione. We've known most of these women our whole lives. They all sleep, eat and bleed the same as you do. There's nothing different between them and you, except they have money and influence. Although, that has changed because you have Marcus, his grandmother, and her sisters in your corner. For what it's worth, you also have us. Unlike other girls your age in this room, you're quietly amassing your own coalition, consisting of many of the older set. There's power in that."

Hermione swallowed thickly because she hadn't thought of it that way until that moment. Her gaze took her around the room from lady to lady as Audrina talked again. "You're not a doormat. Don't let Cora treat you like one. If you let her, then she will, forever. Put your foot down and speak up for yourself. That will go a long way. Truly though, the whole problem is that Cora is afraid of change. It's the same thing that plagues most of those at this gathering because, you see, a degree of discomfort comes with change. No one likes discomfort, especially the women in this room (myself included)."

Elanore tacked her words onto that statement. "It's true. Change is hard. Most people have thought all their lives that muggle-borns were evil magic stealers, but you've proved them wrong. Now we all see you for who you are, and yes, some choose to dislike you just because they can. But that's how it is in life, anyway. The wizards and witches who align themselves with you choose to do so because they like you and can embrace modifications to daily life better than others. Sometimes it has to get worse before it can get better. You have to make sacrifices for the good of yourself. So remember that when dealing with Marcus's mother."

Hollie chuckled but said, "Cora is like a first date, Hermione. First dates are exciting but also really awkward and uncomfortable. You know? Don't put your trust in her, but you can be nice to her until you see that she's firmly on your side. Which could be years, by the way, or until the first grandchild is born."

Hermione smiled and listened to all the advice the ladies were giving her. It's a lot to ponder and digest, and significantly the part about change. It's kind of weird hearing them speak so plainly. Muggle-borns aren't magic stealers, nor do they seek to overturn the wizarding world as it's known. The only thing they want is to be able to practice magic unhindered and learn all the things they weren't taught from birth (like those born into magical families).

Muggle-borns want the same opportunities and apprenticeships afforded to wealthy, pureblood children. It's not a life-shaking, momentous shift like starting a war or overturning the government. No. It's only those things that should be happening already. Same with magical creatures like the werewolf community. But then this speaks to her internal wiring. She's always had a heart for those less fortunate. It's one thing the younger witch is considering as an occupation after the NEWTS, but it's only one thing. There are others.

Breaking her out of her thoughts was the women's giggles. At the word grandchild Elanore perked up. "Hermione, do you have any single friends? Graham and Cassius are in need," she asked.

Hermione mentioned that she didn't because "Adrian is now dating my only other single friend, Luna. With Ginny dating Harry, those are all of the witches I know. But I do have a cousin, Penelope. Although I wouldn't wish her on anyone, not even the foulest, most odious man on earth."

Hollie's face grew serious. With a deadpan expression, she asked, "So, you've met Lucious Malfoy and the Lestrange brothers then?"

The younger witch nodded and said, "Yes, and even they're better than my cousin. There's one in every family, I suppose." The ladies giggled and carried on discussing their son's younger years, which gave Hermione a better perspective of her Slytherin and his friends.

Meanwhile, in a large manor house, a group of boys decided to get a head start cleaning up all the dark waste. The first stop was the creepy, spooky, spine-chilling basement. It's a dirty, filthy place that's unlit and, for the most part, covered with dust. With wands out, the boys made the trek to the bottom of Flint Manor, unsure of what they might find. Marcus and Graham led the way while Adrian kept his eyes on either side. But unlike his friends, Cassius kept saying, "Hermione will not like this. I knew we should have called the Aurors as she wanted to do all along."

Marcus chose not to listen to his friend talk about his fiance'. Instead, he declared, "Yes. Let's do some: we shouldn't be doing this types of things today. Hermione will understand." Actually, she wouldn't. He knew that but ignored it, too, to clear this crap out of his ancestral home. What's better than the present? Plus, with her gone for the day, the chaser won't have to worry about his girl touching or doing something that could potentially harm her.

At that moment, reaching the bottom of the basement stairs, a low-sounding growl broke out. Warrington attached himself to Graham, who tried to shake him off but couldn't due to Cassius's tight grip. "What was that?" the scared Slytherin asked, worried.

Marcus, holding his wand out for security, responded, "It's probably your stomach. I told you to eat something before we left."

A shaky Cassius noted, "That would make sense, except the noise is getting closer."

And it was. So close that it's staring the boys right in the eyes, snarling. Cassius shrieked and dropped his wand while Adrian said, "Maybe if we quietly back away and say labra-cadabra-dor, this canine will disappear."

As the guys huddled together, Graham tried whispering those words. "Nope. It didn't work. The dog is still here," the brunette shared.

The dog in question happened to be a fluffy golden gigantic beast of a retriever. One that Marcus had never seen before, but like all dogs, he thought, "Surely it's not evil. Dogs are supposed to be man's best friend." He conjured a piece of meat and spoke to the dog in a weird baby-type of voice. One that made his friends question his sanity.

Graham wondered, "What makes you think talking to it in a crazy voice will work? Hermione will send all of us to Azkaban if anything happens to you."

Besides, Marcus dismissed him and continued his baby talk. "Here, poochy-poochy. I've got some nice, yummy meat for you. You like meat, right?"

Adrian rolled his eyes and muttered, "Of course, it does- fresh meat like us."

Just when Cassius considered casting an immovable, sticking spell on the dog, the creature surprised them by sitting on his hind legs and lifting a paw. As the boys either sucked in a breath or yelled in horror, Marcus stuck out his hand and began petting the animal. It whined under the favorable attention. So, the lord of the house gave it the meat and motioned for his friends to continue following him.

With the beast now soothed, content with his treat, the guys followed Marcus into the belly of the basement. It felt wrong and awful just stepping on the ground. Indeed they had no idea what to expect, except it wasn't a laboratory. This room was unlike the potions classroom at Hogwarts, which Snape and Slughorn took great pride in the upkeep of. No. This space was similar to a science experiment gone wrong; it smelled of formaldehyde, rubbing alcohol, and various putrid potions. There's sparse light save for the overhead recessed fluorescents and a few spaced-out windows elevated close to the top of the ceiling. It was quiet save for the sounds of the boy's and dog's breathing. There were thick wires and cables of all kinds running to and fro the length of the room. They are all connected to an extensive examination table and a water-filled glass cylinder tank. The Slytherins could only wonder who or what had been inside that tank. And looking close enough, they could see that a lever could lift the table. The purpose is unclear.

The guys observed that this basement lab was also furnished with cultured tools of modern science: Van De Graaf generators, bulky pilot-lit cabinets, and poorly-adjusted Bunsen burners. However, as one steps further into the area, there are disturbing aspects on grand display, too.

On either side of the room sat beakers, test tubes, and jars of all sizes bubbling with sinister chemicals and cloudy containers holding mutant monstrosities. Cassius took one look at the horrific exhibitions and loudly shrieked while Adrian lost his lunch. But that was nothing compared to the large-scale Jacob's ladder- the high-voltage traveling arc. Marcus and Graham saw that it connected to the thick cables and wires from the tank and the exam table. Slowly a picture was forming in their minds as to what exactly went on in this room.

And while he and Graham were inspecting the giant, honking Jacob's ladder, Adrian decided to get more familiar with the science experiments gone wrong. Jar after jar housed something even more disturbing than the next. Magical creature bits and parts preserved, floating around, could be seen in either normal or colored liquids. Someone had crudely sewed some together with pieces of human body parts in another large test tube.

As Pucey kept walking down the line getting more nauseated by the moment, he happened upon two incredibly unsettling containers. One housed a large brain, possibly human, and the other had a set of eyeballs. While both of those are troubling in themselves, it's what the eyeballs did that made Adrian freak out.

At first, the dirty blonde thought he was seeing things, that the basement was too dim and too dreadful beyond reason. But as he moved in for a closer look, it happened again. Like something straight out of a horror movie, the eyes blinked. They blinked! That's when Pucey flipped his lid and bellowed, "Holy Crap!"

It did not help that while Adrian was freaking out that Cassius found a button. It's the kind of button that's rather large, almost cartoonish, unlabeled, and begs to be pushed by the sort of person who doesn't know to touch objects that don't belong to them. So, in a move favored by Ron Weasley, Warrington pushed the button. Just like that, the ceiling began to open.

Now the boys had thought they were in a basement, but come to find out; it was the bottom of some dilapidated tower. It's situated on the part of the manor house that no one uses anymore. And when the roof began to open and light streamed in from above, Marcus realized, "My family is nothing but a bunch of mad magical murderers. This shit is sick! It's sick, Man!"

As the light rained on the exam table, Graham walked over to a blank wall and rested his hand on it to catch his breath. Blinking eyes, brains, an expanding roof, and enough electrical currents to light up the fourth of July sky weren't the only things the laboratory housed. When Montague thought he could catch his breath, the wall opened, and the unsuspecting Slytherin fell into another room. With a yell, Graham pulled himself up and brushed off the dirt. Except all he could hear was yelling at Cassius not to press any more buttons.

So, taking his wand, Montague lit up the room. That's when he saw it- a wall generously populated with chains, manacles, saws, knives, and anything else needed to perform dastardly operations. Bile rose from the pit of his stomach all the way up to his throat, where he also proceeded to hunch over and lose his lunch. As his brown eyes surveyed the space, they noted in the corner was what looked like a pile of failed experiments- the crazy whacko had discarded bits and remains of things into heeps. The bile returned full force, but Graham locked his hand over his mouth and kept it down somehow.

Turning his head, the disgusted young man noticed a wall filled with a gigantic worn chalkboard. It took up practically the whole side length and was filled with complicated equations, incomprehensible diagrams, and obscure symbols and markings. But amidst all that, something on the board caught his eye. Montague wandered over for a better look. His instincts were correct. Taking a finger, he ran it through a sticky, red substance which he realized was blood. That's when it happened. Those discarded bits and remains tossed into a pile on the other side of the room began to stir.

The pieces started to knit together to form a disfigured, revolting monster. Had it not been for Marcus glancing into the new space, Graham would never have known it was there. The guys yelled shouts and screams at him to, "Get out now!"

Abruptly turning around, Montague nearly fainted in fright. Somehow his brain told his feet to move. He ran out of there as fast as a centaur on a stampede. The monster was slowly hot on his tail, but Cassius and his love of buttons began pushing the ones on the wall. The whole time yelling, "Come on! Come on! It has to be one of these!"

The other three boys tightly gripped their wands and pointed them at the evil being. Luckily before the monster could step foot into the expanse of the laboratory, one of the buttons worked. The wall closed back, and the boys, taking nothing for granted, high-tailed it out of the lab. When they got back on solid ground, in the actual manor, an alarmed Warrington shook his wand at Marcus. He stated in a practical way, "See! That's why we should have listened to Hermione. Now, can we call the Aurors?" His friends groaned but knew he was right.

Sometimes a person has to go out of their way to get into trouble. It's called having fun. But this was not fun nor helpful. It's plain disturbing, and the words Hermione will have for them will not be fun either. That's a conversation Marcus is dreading. And it's as Adrian put it, "I'm going to have nightmares for months about everything we saw in that room." But that's the trouble with trouble. It never comes alone. There's always more of it waiting.