November 5, 1997

There was a trail of blood from the front door of the flat.

"What the hell?"

I braced myself and followed the spots of blood through the living room, some spots were large, a few were on the walls and were shaped like handprints that made me slightly woozy from the faint metallic smell and the smear of them across the floor and the wall as if Percy had staggered and stumbled into the flat in the manner of a pained, aimless animal. I hissed between my teeth and listened for any noise that might tell me where he was. Nothing from the kitchen. Hallway maybe? He would not go to the bedroom until he was cleaned up, I knew that much.

There were muttered curses from the bathroom.

That made sense.

My knuckles rapped loudly on the grained wood of the door. "Percy?"

I heard something fall to the floor with a shattering noise and Percy's surprised, annoyed tones.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, love!"

That was unusually clipped.

"Are you hurt?"

It seemed polite to ask.

"No."

"Don't lie."

"It's not bad!"

"There's a trail of blood on the floor!"

"It could be jam."

There was a pause as we both wordlessly acknowledged how stupid a statement that was. He was so smart and so dumb at the same time.

"You are not eating jam in the bathroom!"

The door clicked as the lock retreated and I finally got a look at Percy, there were exhausted shadows under his eyes and his skin was pale, making his freckles pop off his skin in an alarming manner. I did not get to focus on that for too long as my eyes were drawn to the large cut on his upper arm, it looked blackened and inflamed and was bleeding profusely despite all of Percy's protests otherwise.

"Merlin!"

"I know."

I pulled out my wand and pushed him back into the bathroom, trying to contain the flow of blood moving down his arm and dripping off his fingers, avoiding the shards of glass from the dropped potion bottle on the floor. There was no point in trying to keep his shirt, that was going to be thrown out despite any protesting, neither of us were apt at the removal of bloodstains and we had other things to do with our time these days.

He sat on the edge of the bathtub while I tore off the sleeve of his shirt. "What happened?"

"I got ambushed. Some Death Eater in some kind of bird mask." Percy winced as I summoned a potion from the countertop by the sink to help with blood clotting and applied it directly to the wound. "Ow!"

"Sorry."

"It's fine, that might help."

"You were saying?"

"I've never seen anyone duel the way that bloke did."

"What do you mean?" I took in the blackened edges of the wound. It seemed cursed, but was taking the blood clotting potion well enough to lessen some of my concerns. I began to clean off his arm for a better look at the extent of the wound. There were black tendrils moving outward from the cut on his arm. Gross. Also, a sign of powerful magic, but it seemed an almost casual sort of wound, the kind of thing meant for a finishing blow, not something for a glancing blow to offset an opponent like a cat playing with a mouse.

Percy made a thoughtful noise, hissing through his teeth as I kept working on the spell on his arm. "His spellwork was incredibly quick, aggressive, like he wanted to knock me down and over power me while I was down and he apparated into a tree mid-duel which is how I got hurt. I barely got out of there."

I was going to ignore that last sentence for my own sanity.

The spell seemed familiar, as if I had read about it in a book during the course of my studies. Perhaps during my final year where there had been a three-month discussion of dangerous spells perhaps? My final year of defensive magic was a bit of a blur, some part of me knew that the professor had a deep-seated wonder as to why I was taking the course at all.

"I think you'll live, but you're not going back out for a few days." I closed my eyes for a moment to recall the muscular structure of the arm and veins I had been reading about in my books on healing spells. It seemed a practical application of some of my time and I had begun teaching some basic spells to the children at Thornell. Dennis Creevey had a little bit of a talent for it and with the way he and Colin moved through the world, one of them knowing how to heal seemed to be a way to offer balance to the universe for their inherent chaos.

"I guessed as much," Percy sighed as I began to work a few different healing spells to see what got a reaction, lessening the black lesions and swelling on the wound slightly.

"I think I've seen this before; I just can't remember what it's called."

"You're doing better than I am than," Percy winced as his wound began to stitch itself closed, the muscles and tendons coming back together in a gruesome display under my hands and the glowing golden tip of my wand. His free hand had a white-knuckle grip on his pants.

The curse markings around the wound were not fading. I started working a more powerful counter spell and allowed myself a noise of success as they black marks began to fade away entirely. Good. It was hard to spy when someone marked a person that way. It raised too many questions if anyone asked about it.

"Make a fist please."

Percy obliged, allowing me to touch his wrist and move his arm to examine my work. There seemed to be nothing glaring left behind, the scar would be faint, climbing up his arm leaving curling burn marks behind where the black tendrils had once been.

"You're a good Healer, you know." Percy looked up at me with a tired smile.

"No, I just had both hands free. Does it hurt at all?"

"Not like it did before I came home." He moved his arm slowly and I summoned a small vial of pain potion to shove into his hands. "Thank you."

I looked at the blood-soaked mess of the bathroom and tried to push away the thoughts that were encroaching at the edges of my mind. The healing spell I had used was from the Graves family grimoire, the curse itself may have been American in origin, or perhaps there was better magical education in niche circles of evil. Perhaps Percy had run afoul of Whitlock tonight? I would have to tell Elihu to be exceptionally careful, Whitlock seemed the type to hold a grudge and time his revenge.

I could not bring myself to consider the other option.

Oo0Oo0

November 8, 1997

Lucinda and I had procured invitations to the wedding reception of Eden Ragsdill, the American girl from WandWay, to Jasmine's cousin, whose name I could not remember- I was sure it was Arcturus but I was not entirely sure. Jasmine had publicly given me my invitation in front of the other secretaries and some members of the new Ministry with a lot of social capital. Accepting me as part of the circle and welcoming myself and Lucinda with open arms. Jasmine had also shared with me that there were going to be many young up and comers from the Ministry attending, as I had seen Percy's invitation a few nights before I already knew that would be the Attending the reception was fine for both Lucinda and I, it meant exposure and opportunity outside of Lucinda's regular circles where she showed me off over tea as a way to try and make nice.

Percy had recovered from his injury for the most part, the scarring was there and would fade with time and attention. He had not wanted to attend this party, I had to convince him to do so out of a sense of need to make headway into this group, to try and sort the wheat from the chaff of true believers and willing participants and people like us who had been dragged along under duress and threat to fall in line or die. I managed to talk Percy into the blue dress robes I liked, it made it easier for me to see him across the room was my excuse.

I was wearing dress robes in a pale violet color that Lucinda said brought out my eyes. I fiddled with the bangles at my wrist, listening to the clinking noise calmed me down as Lucinda spoke with our table companions as I sipped my wine and finished my slice of cake.

The clinking of a wine glass that had been amplified by magic echoed through the room. I set down my fork and knife to look at the head table where the noise had come from to find the father of the bride standing with a smile and a speech on the tip of his tongue.

Richard Ragsdill was in the early stages of middle age. His hair was stiff from the overapplication of hair gel, combed neatly to the side in a manner that reminded me of a local politician, not a national one like my father, local politicians tended to be stiff, awkward and looked almost like they were made in a factory. Ragsdill looked like the draft from which they were created. He smiled too much and his teeth were absolutely blinding white in such a manner I could see them clearly from where I was sitting.

One could never trust anyone with perfect, shiny teeth.

"The old bloodlines of magic have endured through the trials imposed by those who lack the gift of magic."

Percy and I managed to exchange a look from our different tables.

"The unions of families of magical lineage offer us a promise, a promise of a brighter future where we would no longer have to hide. Where we can take our rightful place as rulers over those of lesser blood!"

I distinctly remember taking my birth control potion last night, my paranoia faded as quickly as it tried to rise.

"Tonight, we have gathered to celebrate a union that is the first step towards a future of bloodline security, a promise of magical endurance for generations to come."

Lucinda reached over and grabbed my hand under the table, squeezing it tightly as the father of the bride continued to drone on, his dog whistles for his fanatical religion were subtle to my hearing and easily missed by this enthusiastic group of purists.

"We are thrilled to solidify the bonds between the old families of Britain and those who kept the old ways in America. There is much to be said for our own preservation and shared value of the power inherent in our blood, but tonight, we are here to celebrate the union of my daughter Eden and her new husband-"

I tuned out the rest of the speech made by the bride's father as he praised her for her life of chastity and modesty and girlish humility, doing everything I could to smile as applause rose in a crescendo through the room, shaking the small crystal chandeliers that hung from various places of the ceiling.

According to Jasmine, this wedding would be a sort of unofficial start to a pureblood social season. It was one of the reasons the groom's family had extended so many invitations to young people from the Ministry, they had their backgrounds thoroughly checked for propriety and connections. I could see several of my coworkers dressed in beautiful soft pastel robes as they giggled together over a couple of handsome young men from Wand Regulations.

Percy had told me that those young men only had eyes for each other and I thoroughly believed that this whole scheme was going to go down in flames.

We were going to have so much to gossip about tonight.

I glanced at Lucinda next to me, who was turning her attention to the older wizard and his wife we were sharing the table with. The witch was Jasmine's cousin, I was not too sure how they were related, but Jasmine had made the introduction and apparently helped with the seating arrangements, she had to sit with some other relatives, but we had an unspoken understanding based around alcohol when we could take the opportunity to show off what we had pulled from our collections.

Alliances based on alcohol and mutual dislike were not the worst things in the world.

The doors swung open for the newlyweds to enter the hall to triumphant noise of applause, the clinking of glasses and sparks of light that refracted from the chandelier and sent bursts of color around the room, sending various refractions of light and color from the tiny ceiling chandeliers about the room. I had a hard time seeing the bride, the man in front of me stood up to clap and oddly enough, he was much taller than I was. Peering around the man was no better, providing me only an uncomfortable view of the back end of a witch's hat that was covered in stuffed doves.

I hoped they were stuffed.

Nope. No they just flew off her head and exploded into a shower of pristine white feathers and confetti.

Merlin's cloak.

By the time I was able to get a chance to peer through the crowd, all I could see was the back of the bride's wedding robes, shrouded by a lacy veil that gave her the appearance of a ghost as the light in the room faded to shroud the room in a pale light that reminded me of the moon as tables disappeared and we were gestured and called through grand doors to a great dining room where food was piled high on tables and the ivory tablecloths wore deep red drapes to add elegance and color and match the window curtains, giving the room a warmer feel than it truly deserved.

The high arches of the ceiling gave the room an ostentatious feel, the marble columns and arches made the whole affair very clear. This family once had money and believed they had attained more through the initial investment of the bride and the purist cult that stood behind her. The floors glimmered and shown a gleaming white, clearly polished and prepared for this event to make an impression. A small string quartet began to play their instruments as furniture appeared near the fireplace, soft sofas and chairs and a few more chairs began to appear at the edge of the wall, not comfortable ones. These were for people to sit out the dancing or wait for an invitation.

I caught a glimpse of Percy's hair as he was dragged into conversation with an old wizard with kind eyes who seemed to have taken Percy under his wing for the evening.

There were quiet conversations, people leaning in to whisper and laugh as the wine began to flow into glasses, the bottles of cider combining to create a kind of sparking punch, something so down home American that I could barely contain myself at the sheer oddity of it in such a setting. It was the small element of a backyard barbecue that gave this horrific affair an absurdist edge that would have made me laugh if I could have managed to do so without appearing insane.

I turned my attention to the room, taking in the conversations around me to try and look for ways to nudge my way in for introductions, filing away people that I recognized from the Ministry and who they were associating with. There was nothing of interest going on to my prospective, I was being ignored for some reason. Reasons most likely relating to my unceremonious demotion from the Minister's Office. Oh, well, speak of the devil, there was Thicknesse and his puppeteer, Yaxley. Perhaps I should just try to blend in with the under twenty-five crowd, there were so many of them and their families were off in corners nodding in approval or shaking their heads in disapproval of those that they believed were beneath their families. Oh, that was not going to work, I could see my cousin Harrow not too far away from the group! One father was engaging a young man from the Department of International Magical Cooperation while gesturing towards his daughter. I could only hope he was speaking of her actual accomplishments instead of just her blood status and linage. What a sad thing to be reduced too.

Jasmine moved quickly to my side with a playful nudge and brief hello to press a glass of wine into my hands. Before we could engage in a critical discussion of what we were seeing in this room I was distracted by a glimpse of the bride.

The bride, Eden, was a pretty girl, small and blonde with a pinched chin and brown eyes. Every part of her was covered in white lace from her neck to her ankles, as if seeing the sun would offend the sensibilities of those who viewed her as breeding stock. The way she looked at her new husband, all doe eyed admiration for a man she did not even know sent shivers down my spine. Guilt or reasonable disgust with a quiet hope that I did not look at Percy that way, all worship and vacant expressions.

I moved away slightly which brought Richard Ragsdill back into view. The bride's father was discussing politics with curious British purebloods nearby, his booming voice was distinctly American, all of what Percy and Lucinda called 'flat vowels', as he explained the political situation back home and how he had managed to remove his daughter from the country for this arrangement.

"We've never guarded the border with Canada, we ensure dual citizenship by making sure our children are born just on the other side of the border. Very simple little vacations."

"How clever!" A woman chimed in as she was met with nods and noises of agreement.

"Perhaps there are some advantages to a land border."

Richard Ragsdill was not someone I was too familiar with. I knew his name from chatter in the States related to WandWay, but I had never seen him in person. Ragsdill was not high enough in WandWay to go to New York and try and leverage influence within the Virtus Party. He was more of an accountant or manager for the group, perhaps handling a majority of outside correspondence. Which would explain how he had moved so quickly to seize an opportunity for his daughter. I wondered how many others he had told about this new opportunity in Britain? It may depend on how many daughters he had. If WandWay's mission was to outbreed the nonmagical, there could be several more daughters waiting in the wings reliant on their sister's success and the continued hold of this purist government.

What I had set in motion was beginning to sink in. The reality of it was more than I was expecting. I truly did not believe that anyone would be successful in grabbing this opportunity without getting arrested or even quickly arranging a wedding.

This was insane!

One of the older men in the circle spoke next, his voice matching Ragsdill in forcefulness. "And what of the purebloods in America? We've heard that there are many old magical bloodlines in positions of authority. I am told the Graves are an old pureblood family."

"That is true. We don't dilute ourselves with the No-Majs. We still take pride in our magical blood, but Graves is not an ally to the pureblood cause," Ragsdill proclaimed with his booming voice and stern tone. "Don't let his pedigree fool you- he and his administration's consort with the tribes, welcome Mudbloods to positions of power and insult magical bloodlines with their views."

Isolt's wand! He's racist too. Why am I not surprised?

"These tribal representatives are not elected, and yet Graves has allowed them into government sessions! Meanwhile there are members of our sect who don't have that same right!"

Oh shut up. They have valuable contributions regarding land management. You're part of an extremist religious group.

There were immense, vast swatches of the United States that were untouched by wix or No-Majs. It would be sheer arrogance to try and work with the Sasquatch or the Werewolf packs, or manage any sort of internal uprising if MACUSA had no understanding of the land we lived upon. Particularly with regards to the vast rural regions of the country and the delicate ecosystem that maintained it.

"Really?" A woman gasped, as if the concept was shocking and abhorrent to her personally. "The president? Of all people?"

Ragsdill shrugged, a nasty little scowl crossing his face. "He's too a wizard even without his political connections to truly write off."

My father is not an extremist. He's just very good at keeping the fractions of his party from killing each other or splitting away from the party and therefore the vote.

"A powerful wizard?" One of the men said, his moustache bristling with scepticism. "Surely not if he's as diluted as you claim."

Ragsdill shrugged, "Graves' magical ability is always second to his political power. He has two daughters, one is a little young and the elder looks a bit like a corpse, but the bloodline is credible if you can put up with the father."

Corpse!

Jasmine had snorted into her wine and was trying to collect herself by not looking at me. I was allowed to think that about myself but nobody was supposed to say it aloud!

Ugh. Ragsdill is not a political player beyond the daughter he was willing to sacrifice at the altar. That bean counter should have stayed home to live a life of continued irrelevance in the political sphere. It was okay though; he would be charged for some international crime when he crossed into the States again, I could at least put those wheels in motion.

Well, Elihu could potentially make something close to treason stick at any rate. He was a bit of a shark that way. Just needed to smell blood in the water.

Jasmine refilled my wine glass as she raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes in the direction of the little mop of lace and silk that was the bride and the man next to her must be the groom. I had not gotten a very good look at him through the course of the event so far and I was not impressed.

"She's pretty enough for Augustus."

A backhanded compliment if I had ever heard one. I would not call Jasmine's cousin handsome, but that was always a matter of personal preference. I thought his nose was a bit to crooked and his blond hair was retreating nobly from his forehead. The bride had married down was the more charitable thing to say in this case.

"No doubt, Lucinda says all women marry down."

"Wise woman, no wonder she stayed single."

That earned a quiet laugh out of me.

"I thought you said the groom's name was Arcturus when you gave me the invitations?"

"I thought so too, that's Augustus. The younger brother. He's dumb, but not too bad."

"Small mercies. What happened to the brother?"

Jasmine shrugged, a hard, pleased look on her face. "He was serving the Dark Lord, perhaps something got him."

"Or maybe he just could not make it to his own wedding." Due to being a Death Eater, was unspoken but something the two of us did not need stated to understand.

In any case, if the older brother turned up dead, his younger brother and the bride would receive everything, not just the pithy scraps of fading familial wealth.

This might have been a better arrangement for the girl.

I did my best to ignore the horrid, persistent thought at the edge of my mind. That no matter which brother had been at the altar tonight, she was still going to have to consummate this wedding with a total stranger.

The thought made me sick to my stomach.

I got a grip on my nausea when a small, lacy creature appeared gracefully out of the crowd with gracious farewells to whomever she was speaking with before she made eye contact with Jasmine and I. The dress was beautiful, but it reminded me of Lucinda's doilies in her nice sitting rooms, carefully crocheted and placed on appropriately fitting tables. In the case of the bride, the dress had a high lace neckline and long trumpet sleeves that were cut open in a rather medieval fashion to reveal tight lace to the edges of her wrist. The veil was long but had been shortened for the party through some method I was unfamiliar with, instead of dragging behind her like it would have down the aisle, it now came to rest around her knees.

She reminded me a bit of a princess.

"I'm so happy to see another American!" Eden almost blinded me with the glimmering light of her teeth. Her blonde hair was beginning to escape her fancy updo, "Are you here with your father?"

"No, he's back home I'm afraid."

Eden's smile with her perfect teeth only seemed to grow wider still. "Oh! So you're married! Congratulations!"

Nope, I'm living in sin.

The smile on my face was so forced it made my cheeks hurt, but she did not seem to notice, even if I felt it was noticeable and awkward in its falseness on my face, but Eden was too enraptured by the presence of one of her own countrymen to truly notice anything of the sort. Perhaps it was less obvious than I believed it to be.

"I'm afraid not."

She tilted her head slightly, her smile fading at last to a look of confusion. "You're here alone? How could your father allow that?"

It took a moment for me to remind myself that for the girls of WandWay, traveling alone to another country without a father to supervise was not natural, a sign of ill behavior and confusing to their lives in isolated compounds. The fact that I had a job outside the house that I was paid for would only confuse her further.

"I'm staying with my aunt."

Her confusion faded and she returned to a state of bubby joy that filled me with both repulsion and pity. She did not need to know any more about me. What she knew was enough to keep her happy and opened an avenue of discussion between us.

"Your ring is beautiful! Is that silver one from your husband?" It was a delicate silver band that rested on her ring finger beneath the large gold band that looked like a more traditional wedding ring. Perhaps she had received both at the ceremony? Or maybe it was an engagement ring?

She flushed slightly from more than just the warmth of the nearby fireplace, "Oh, it's from my father, to remind me about the value of my purity for the marital bed and the value of it for magical bloodlines." Her eyes moved towards my left hand; she was not as subtle as she believed herself to be.

The meaning behind her words fully grabbed hold of me and a cold feeling of disgust moved through my bones. That her family viewed her as breeding stock and leverage for power and social gain had left this girl more naive about the world than she needed to be.

I knew what was going to happen in that bedroom tonight. I knew that this was a clueless, powerless, girl who had been taken advantage of in every aspect of her life. Never allowed to grow beyond the shallow box her family and culture had shoved her into. Eden's job was to smile, be pretty and do everything the men in her life told her to do, because she could not comprehend a world where she could have real thoughts and opinions to develop into her own person.

I had used Eden in the same way WandWay had. The same way her father had. Now she was married to a stranger and the expectations of wedding nights were now her immediate reality.

Isolt's panties.

I am a monster.

Jasmine was kind enough to step in, "Are the cushioning charms on your shoes holding?"

Eden nodded, "Yes, thank you so much for helping me with them."

"She kept turning them red, it was precious." There was nothing mocking in Jasmine's tone. It was as if she saw Eden the same way I did, child-like and in over her head in ways she would ignore if we tried to explain it to her.

I wanted to take care of Eden in some fashion... But navigating this was so unsteady, it was like being at sea in a sinking ship.

Oh, screw it. Americans are famously straightforward.

"Are you nervous?"

Eden tilted her head slightly like a crup puppy.

"About tonight?"

Jasmine looked over at me and back to Eden with a knitted brow before chiming in at Eden's silence. "Do you want me to come upstairs with you after the reception so we can have a bit of a chat?"

Eden's lower lip quivered, the only outer sign of her nerves aside from her suddenly wetting eyes. The rest of her appeared very steady and resigned.

That was definitely why she came over here. I imagine it was less to speak with another American than it was to reach out to Jasmine, someone she already knew to be helpful and, in Eden's eyes, kind.

I pulled the small bag containing the bottle of wine I had snuck into the party out of my sleeve, where I had managed to commission a pocket. Pressing the bag into Jasmine's hands. "I was going to share this, but I think you two need it more."

Jasmine nodded and peered into the bag, "Oh! Peach! Eden, you'll love this!"

There was an awkward giggle from Eden at Jasmine's sudden excitement.

"I know you've never had alcohol, but a couple glasses of this and a chat with me should help you. I'll meet you up in your room after the reception and we'll get you taken care of, alright love?"

Eden's quick nod of agreement and Jasmine's quick wave of her wand to fix Eden's makeup gave me a new image of Jasmine. She was still a short-sighted, elitist sort of bully, but in some ways, she was not the monster I was.

I managed bid the pair of them a quick farewell under the guise of seeing Lucinda to allow the two of them bond, I needed to leave too many doors open and too many closed to get involved in this sort of conversation. Jasmine was far more equipped for this than I was, if Lucinda was using me a bargaining chip than I needed to be above scrutiny in every way I could manage.

Lucinda welcomed me with open arms to her social circle and I spent the next several minutes nodding and smiling at various propositions and discussions of the nice young men in attendance while I tried to ignore my periodic glimpses of Percy and his new friend who had now drunkenly thrown his arm over Percy's shoulders to pull him towards a group of young people, loudly proclaiming he needed to enjoy his youth and meet his niece.

Oh, he looks terrified.

I knew this was a possibility. He did too. We'll have a good laugh about this later at home.

I can't wait until we can go a little bit public.

The room was soon cleared slightly for the dancing to begin, allowing me to slip over to newly vacated couch against a nearby wall as the old people sitting there had left to get a better view of the couple as if they were exotic zoo animals. The bride and groom looked so awkward about the whole affair that sitting down out of sight of most of the event felt like the kindest thing I could do for them.

What I did not anticipate was the sudden arrival of unwanted company as the music began.

Cousin Harrow had moved into the vacated seat on the couch next to me, all elegance and refinement in his deep blue robes and polite smiles. "Enjoying the party?"

No.

"Yes, it's interesting." I let my eyes drift towards the crowd, I could see the couple through a small gap in the masses. Eden being led by her new husband through a simple waltz. Eden was wide eyed and stumbling slightly, clutching at her new husband for support. I did not think she had ever danced before. Her husband smiled down at her and leaned down to whisper something in her ear, which made her giggle and her posture relax slightly.

"I can't believe they brought in some little rustic," Harrow's voice was low and disgusted, slumping slightly in his seat before adjusting himself to straight backed posture.

Agreeing with Harrow on anything tended to leave a sour taste in my mouth, but I managed to calmly nod in agreement without throwing up, which was a major accomplishment.

"Really, they could not find a respectable pureblood daughter on our own shores?"

Perhaps they grew tired of fucking their cousins.

Harrow leaned closer to my ear, close enough to make sure I could hear the lowering pitch of his voice as his arm came to rest over the back of the couch behind my shoulders and I did my best not to recoil in disgust or give into my urge to accidently drop my wine in his lap.

"Not every American pureblood can meet the standard you set." His breath was warm against my ear.

Insulting me and my countrymen is not the smartest thing you can do.

Staying still seemed a prudent option, but I did glance at Harrow as he finally leaned away from me, no longer giving us the appearance of a romantic tryst. Harrow's arm was still behind me on the couch.

"Standard? I'm not sure what you mean?"

I could see the corner of Harrow's mouth turn upwards and a softening in his expression, a few strands of his brown hair loosening from the gel in his hair. Harrow would never be conventionally handsome, I found him distinctly average in many social respects, but I did wonder in the moment why there were no silly women pawing around him. Thornell was essentially his now that Voldemort had taken over the Ministry, Lucinda's allies in the Ministry were effectively out of power and she had no real loopholes to utilize in unexpected ways.

"Surely you must know?"

"Know what?"

He just smiled, "Do you find it a desperate thing? To marry some young, simple girl with connections that hold no candle to your own?"

"I think I'll live alone like Lucinda, unmarried, large garden, six kneazles."

"I think if you really put your mind to it, these people would be eating out of your hand." He gestured towards the rest of the party. "If they knew who you were, who your father was, you could control this whole society." I did not like the look in his eyes. "With the right husband, your father could exert his influence over these fools for his own benefit."

"You make a lot of wild assumptions about Jack."

Harrow ignored me, continuing on. "They don't know the truth about you because I believe one should look out for your family. I suggest you weigh your options carefully regarding your own marriage." He got to his feet for a smile, his fingers brushing slowly over the exposed skin of my shoulders as he did so. I did my best not to outwardly shiver in disgust. "Have a lovely evening, Audrey."

Harrow was swallowed into the crowd, all silks and finery and laughter bubbling up from wine and fine whiskey.

I am far more aware of what my life was than Harrow ever could be, but Harrow keeping my connection with Jack quiet made a lot of sense. It would mean less people interacting with myself, Lucinda and the wider Avery family, all people looking for angles to attain power. Harrow wanted to ensure his familial claim to Thornell and that would be intensely difficult if I quickly married and had a son, or someone came forward making claims about Alex. I would cast too much doubt and cause problems for Harrow attaining the property if I married someone who had resources and connections to put up a fight- even one that would end in Harrow's favor would inconvenience him and drag him through the mud socially. Wasting his time and money over silly inheritance clauses that were already seemingly set in his favor.

Perhaps I was beginning to look forward to a life with Percy where none of this was a concern. A simple life in the rolling country hills, space for our children to grow up, within walking distance of a wizarding hamlet with nice neighbors for us to judge when they were being eccentric and rowdy. I would have a garden with herbs and medical plants, Percy would use them to brew his… ugh… homemade potion remedies. I would learn how to knit. I deeply admired the craftsmanship on one of Percy's homemade sweaters from his mother that hung in his wardrobe. It also smelled lovely, like a combination of Percy and a collection of herbs and baked goods. It smelled like... Home.

That little country cottage became more vivid in my mind with each passing week.

Oo0Oo0

Author's Note: If no one has pieced it together at this point, this author is a bit critical of religion. I grew up in a rather liberal church, but was also a pseudo pastor kid because my mother worked for the church. When fundamentalists were becoming mainstream on television, there were a lot of fascinating, horrible, articles online coming out from people who left. Now a larger section of it has infiltrated mainstream politics and it's worth examining more closely in a fictional setting. WandWay is very much a reference to the Dugger-style fundamentalist sect.