Chapter 23. Meet the Parkinsons.
Susie had reluctantly agreed to the idea of a new house elf working alongside her. Thomas had insisted they needed the extra help now that Ella wouldn't be available. Though she had given in, her displeasure was clear in how her lips tightened each time the small, timid creature fumbled through the most basic tasks under her watchful eye.
The next morning, Jakob stood before the ornate, full-length mirror in his room, adjusting the new robe that Susie had purchased for him. He scrutinized its fit and fabric, his brow furrowing in concentration.
The robe, woven from the finest blue silk, shimmered faintly in the morning light, casting a soft glow that Emma had commented "made his eyes pop."
Jakob had rolled his eyes at her words, still unsure what she really meant by it, but chose not to question it further.
What he did understand was the robe's impeccable craftsmanship. It draped perfectly over his athletic frame, the rich fabric accentuating the aristocratic lines of his features.
His reflection stared back at him, a young wizard on the edge of adulthood, every bit the pure-blood heir he had been moulded to become. But beneath the polished exterior, Jakob couldn't shake the thought: how much of this image was truly his, and how much was simply what was expected of him by his father?
In the background, Ella and the new house elf were perched on Jakob's neatly made bed, caught up in a lively game of Exploding Snap. The elf, now dressed in a crisp black maid's dress adorned with the Quade family crest, sat with a small white cap atop her head, looking every bit the part of the household's newest servant.
"Ah! You've won again!" Ella exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and laughter as the cards in the centre of the bed detonated with harmless pops, sending tiny, smoking fragments across the room.
With exaggerated defeat, the blonde girl threw her hands up, flopping dramatically onto the bed beside the giggling house elf. The creature tried to smother the sound, her large eyes glowing with joy, her hands barely hiding her excitement.
"Next time, I'll beat you... you..." Ella paused mid-sentence, turning her gaze to Jakob. "Hey, Jake? She doesn't have a name yet, does she?"
Jakob sighed, realizing he had overlooked something so basic. "A name... How did I forget that?"
His eyes fell on the elf, who was now staring up at him with wide, eager eyes. Her large ears twitched slightly beneath the maid's cap, and anticipation was written all over her small face.
After a brief pause, he said, "How about... Feemey?"
The elf's eyes grew even larger, flicking between Ella and Jakob, her voice trembling with excitement. "Feemey likes that name, Master Jakob," she said, bowing deeply. "Feemey is very grateful."
"Good then. Feemey it is," Jakob replied with a nod of satisfaction. "While we're here, you'll follow Susie's instructions. She'll assign you tasks."
Feemey's head bobbed eagerly, her large ears flapping as she replied, "Yes, Master Jakob. Feemey will listen to Miss Susie."
"And when you're not needed, find something you enjoy or something useful to do," Jakob added, giving his house elf an approving smile.
"Feemey loves to work, Master Jakob. Feemey will find something that must be done if not needed," she promised, her small frame nearly trembling with dedication.
Jakob watched her, amusement and a touch of satisfaction mixing in his gaze. He nodded, turning his attention back to Ella.
"I need to speak with Father. I'll see you later."
Ella, already halfway into a new round of Exploding Snap, waved him off absentmindedly. At the same time, Feemey straightened herself, standing on the bed. "Yes, Master Jakob."
As Jakob exited his room and started down the corridor, Ella's curious voice echoed behind him.
"Feemey, why do you call him 'Master'? His name's just Jakob. Or Jake."
What followed was an immediate, high-pitched gasp from Feemey. "Oh, Miss Ella, no! No-no-no! Feemey must call him Master! Master Jakob is Feemey's
Master—it's the way it must be!" Feemey's voice sounded as if Ella had just suggested something utterly unthinkable.
Jakob continued walking, and Feemey's panicked rambling trailed off into a faint murmur as Jakob moved further down the corridor.
He chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. "You never question a house elf's loyalty," he muttered under his breath. A smile tugged at his lips as he imagined Ella now trying to calm the over-explaining Feemey.
Jakob descended the grand staircase of the Quade manor, his footsteps muffled by the plush runner that traced the path over polished marble steps.
Tall, arched windows let in shafts of pale morning light, casting long shadows over the gleaming floors.
His gaze briefly swept over the corridor's familiar yet still awe-inspiring décor. Ancient suits of armour stood as silent sentinels, their metal polished to a high sheen, each one a relic of an era where bloodlines fought to secure their power. Between them hung rich tapestries, their fabric worn but well-maintained, depicting scenes of legendary wizarding battles, each woven with an attention to detail that almost made the figures move.
Massive chandeliers dangled from the vaulted ceiling, their crystal facets catching the light as if the house itself sought to display its wealth. The air was filled with a quiet stillness, only broken by the distant, soft hum of magical wards gently maintaining the estate's protection.
After a minute or two of walking down the vast corridor, down a few steps and into another corridor, Jakob arrived at his father's study.
The grand double doors were carved from dark oak, heavy and imposing, their surface adorned with intricate Celtic runes. Thomas had once mentioned their origins in passing, though he never explained their purpose.
Taking a steadying breath, Jakob knocked three times. He straightened his posture, collecting his thoughts as the heavy doors creaked open on their own, revealing Lord Quade seated at his grand mahogany desk.
The room was dimly lit by a single chandelier, casting a cold glow over the sea of parchment and scrolls that covered the polished surface.
Thomas didn't look up; his sharp, calculating eyes focused on the documents before him. Only after a pause, as if to remind Jakob of his place, did his gaze flicker briefly toward his son.
"Come," Thomas commanded, his voice low but firm. Without waiting for a response, he returned his attention to the papers before him, treating Jakob's arrival as if it were barely worth his time.
With a touch of uncertainty, Jakob stepped forward. "Father, there are two questions I'd like to ask. First, have you had the chance to speak with Emma about—"
"The Frome girl," Thomas interrupted, his tone shifting with a hint of intrigue as he finally lifted his eyes from the desk to acknowledge his heir. "Yes, I've already arranged a meeting. The head of her house and Miss Frome will visit us at the end of summer."
Jakob nodded slowly, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. He had come prepared with carefully thought-out arguments, ready to defend his wish, but it seemed he wouldn't need them—not yet.
"Thank you, Father. The second question concerns the Parkinsons. They've invited me to join them om a trip to Egypt for two weeks."
"When?" Thomas asked, his eyes already back on the papers scattered across his desk.
"Pansy didn't mention a date, so I presume she awaits my answer to see if if and when I'm available," Jakob replied, hoping his father would approve.
Thomas's lips curled slightly in amusement. "That girl has her family wrapped around her finger. A good lass."
As his father pondered the trip, Jakob stood still, his hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently for the final word.
"If I permit you to go," Lord Quade said at last, his voice firm, "you will represent the Quade family—not just to the Parkinsons, but to all of Egypt. Our relationship with Percival Parkinson is valuable, and it must remain so."
Jakob gave a decisive nod, meeting his father's gaze with steady resolve. "I would never do anything to harm House Quade's honour, Father."
Thomas nodded, granting his son permission for the trip. "I'll owl her father and make the arrangements, but I expect you to use the time wisely. Study Egyptian magic while you're there—don't waste the opportunity. You're growing up, Jakob, and with the ritual, you're already maturing faster than your peers."
"Yes, I've noticed that too, Father," Jakob admitted, his voice tinged with confusion.
Thomas's brows furrowed slightly, his gaze sharpening as he leaned forward, fingers interlacing. He motioned for Jakob to continue.
"What have you noticed?" he asked, curiosity edging his tone.
Jakob hesitated, his posture stiffening. "I've grown taller than most of the other students, and I've gained more stamina, more strength," he began, his words careful. "But there's more..." He trailed off, breaking eye contact, his gaze drifting around the room, clearly uncertain.
Thomas's eyes narrowed. "Speak plainly, boy. What else?"
With a sigh, Jakob continued, "My temper... it's been changing, becoming more... unstable. And when I'm near certain... students, I get this feeling... or a strange sense. I can't quite explain it."
"What do you mean, boy? What kind of feeling? A sense of danger? Toward whom?" Thomas's tone sharpened with concern, his mind already calculating, preparing for any potential threat against his heir.
Jakob shook his head, frustration flickering across his face. "No, it's not like that. It's... the opposite, really." He hesitated, his voice lowering in embarrassment. "I feel this strange pull, almost lik… i don't know, but it happens whenever I'm around girls."
Lord Quade's eyes narrowed, suspicion clear as he processed Jakob's words. Then, all at once, his expression shifted. Realization dawned, and to Jakob's surprise, his father's serious demeanour cracked. A deep, booming laugh erupted from him, filling the room. It was the heartiest laugh Jakob had ever heard from his father.
The teenage boy stood in silence, confusion and embarrassment mingling as his father's laughter echoed through the room.
After a moment, Thomas finally calmed, wiping away the tears that had formed at the corners of his eyes, though a soft chuckle still escaped him now and then.
With a flick of his wand, Thomas conjured a chair, and Jakob sat down as his father began to speak. "You little shit," Thomas began shaking his head with lingering amusement, "I thought someone had cursed you with paranoia."
Jakob's cheeks flushed, but he remained quiet as his father's tone shifted.
"Listen, my son," Thomas continued, his voice growing serious. "What you're feeling has nothing to do with the ritual. It's part of becoming a man. But you'll need to control it because those feelings... they'll only get stronger as time goes on."
"They will increase?" Jakob asked, leaning forward, his voice filled with concern, a hint of disbelief creeping in.
"Yes," Thomas continued, his voice steady. "You'll feel your mood shift, and your emotions will grow more intense. You'll become more aware of girls, and you might be tempted to get to know them better."
Jakob didn't fully grasp what "tempted to know them better" meant but stayed quiet.
His mind wandered briefly, recalling that awkward night in the empty classroom when a girl had mistaken him for someone else and seemed eager to engage in some sort of riding activity. The memory still left him baffled. And then, images of Amy surfaced—the moment they had shared a kiss, flickering through his mind—adding to his growing confusion.
"Listen closely, boy," his father's voice cut through his thoughts, growing icier with each word. "As the heir of the ancient and noble House of Quade, you must learn to control your emotions."
Thomas's tone shifted, laced with disdain. "Impulsive actions are beneath you. I will not tolerate rumors about my heir leaving a trail of young witches expecting."
The implication in his father's words was clear to the nearly fourteen-year-old. Clearing his throat, Jakob decided to steer the conversation in another direction.
"Father, you said this feeling would intensify. Will it ever subside, or is it something I'll have to carry for the rest of my life?"
Thomas chuckled softly, a glimmer of nostalgia in his eyes as he remembered his own youth. "No, boy, it will calm down as you mature—perhaps even sooner if you're fortunate. What's important to understand is that this is normal, and your friends are likely going through the same thing."
Jakob nodded and rose from his chair. "Thank you, Father. Your guidance has been... enlightening."
Thomas gave a brief nod, already turning his attention back to the paperwork in front of him, signalling that the conversation was over.
As Jakob made his way out of the study, a question grew in his mind. So my emotions will be stronger. Does that mean my magic will as well? He walked down the corridor, his thoughts racing. If I learn to harness and control my emotions, could they become a greater power source?
As Jakob lay in bed that night, the strange sensation that had lingered since he stopped sharing a room with Pansy gnawed at him.
It was initially subtle, but with each passing night, Jakob grew more certain that the blood ritual had triggered something unexpected, something no one had foreseen.
Being alone never felt quite right anymore. There was an emptiness in the quiet of his room, an unsettling restlessness. Some nights, it felt like an itch beneath his skin, unreachable and constant, making sleep seem just out of reach.
As promised, Jakob wrote Pansy the next morning, sharing the good news.
To his slight surprise, her response came quickly. Just a few days later, her owl arrived with a letter brimming with his closest female friend's infectious excitement.
Under the joint decision of Thomas and Pansy's father, Percival, a date had now been firmly set. In just a few weeks, their adventure to Egypt would officially begin.
The fateful day arrived sooner than Jakob had expected. Before he knew it, he stood in the Quade Mansion's spacious Floo room, his bags neatly arranged at his side, ready for the journey ahead.
In just a few moments, he would embark on a two-week adventure to Egypt with Pansy.
The room buzzed with well-wishes from his family, who were gathered around to see him off.
But not everyone shared the excitement. Ella stood nearby, her expression a mix of disappointment and frustration. She had barely adjusted to having Jakob back home, and now he was leaving again.
"You're lucky I'm starting Hogwarts this year," Ella muttered, her arms crossed as she glared up at him. "Otherwise, I'd never let you leave."
As he stepped into the expansive fire pit, Jakob rolled his eyes, letting out a small sigh. "I promise I'll bring you back anything you want from Egypt, Ella. You know I'll miss you. When I get back, we'll still have some of the summer left."
Ella remained silent, her head still turned away, arms firmly crossed. She wanted Jakob to believe she was angry, not sad. Still, the tears welling in her eyes betrayed her, making it clear that she was failing miserably.
Susie and Emma observed the scene with quiet amusement, thoroughly entertained by Jakob's efforts and Ella's unwavering stubbornness.
Jakob cared for Ella like a little sister. Still, her gloomy mood over his impending departure—which had been going on for five days now—had started to wear on
the teenager.
"If you don't stop this childish behaviour before school, the hat will put you in Gryffindor," he said, his irritation finally slipping through
.
As Jakob stepped into the emerald flames and said his destination, his eyes locked onto Ella's, catching her final, defiant glare. Her arms were still crossed, and she silently mouthed, "F-you."
Anger surged through him, disbelief mixing with the shock. Ella had never cursed at him like that before. His jaw tightened, ready to lash out, but before he could react, the green flames roared to life, surging around him and swallowing him whole.
In an instant, the world blurred into a spinning tunnel of emerald fire. He was propelled forward, twisting through the narrow, chaotic passage of the Floo network. The rush of air whipped past him, and the flashes of hearths and flickering rooms barely registered in the dizzying swirl.
The speed pressed against him from all sides, the roar of the flames echoing in his ears. His body twisted with the momentum, green sparks dancing in the darkness around him. He could feel the pull of his destination growing nearer, the spinning slowing just enough for him to prepare.
As Jakob stepped out of the fireplace and brushed off the ash, his gaze immediately fell on Lady Amaryllis Parkinson.
Lady Parkinson's hair cascaded in soft waves around her face, framing sapphire-blue eyes that held an enigmatic depth. The contrast between her fair complexion and her elegantly proportioned features made her seem almost like an elegant statue.
Beside her, Lord Percival Parkinson stood with his usual air of authority. His slim frame, neatly combed ebony hair, and piercing steel-grey eyes gave him a sharp, calculating presence.
His dark robes were formal yet hinted at a recent return from work. He positioned himself at the centre, between his wife and daughter, as if to mark his role as the family's protector and spokesman.
Jakob could tell from the slight tension in his stance that this greeting, though warm, was businesslike.
Then there was Pansy. Jakob hadn't seen her in almost half the summer, and the subtle changes in her appearance caught his attention immediately.
Her black bobcut hair, once sharp and precise, had grown a little longer, softening her look. She stood a bit taller now, her features showing the early signs of maturity.
There was a new sophistication about her—something in the way she carried herself that suggested she was becoming more comfortable with the responsibilities of her family's legacy.
Jakob took her in with fresh eyes, surprised at how much she had grown since they parted.
"Welcome, heir Quade. When I last saw you, you looked much younger," Percival remarked with a chuckle, extending his hand for a firm shake. "But I suppose that's what happens when you start growing from a teenager
into a man."
Jakob acknowledged the compliment with a smile, returning the handshake. "It's a privilege and an honour to visit you, Mr. Parkinson. And if I may say, you haven't aged a day since our last meeting." His comment earned a warm chuckle from Percival, who seemed to relax his shoulders ever so slightly.
Next, Lady Amaryllis stepped forward, offering her hand with a gracious smile. "It's wonderful to see you again, dear," she said, her tone warm and welcoming. "And I must agree with my husband—you're turning into quite the charming young man."
Pansy blushed at her mother's words, shifting awkwardly beside her. Jakob, suppressing a grin, took Amaryllis's hand gently and planted a polite kiss on her knuckles.
"Thank you, Lady Parkinson," he replied smoothly, flashing a charming smile. "If I didn't know better, I'd mistake you for Pansy's older sister rather than her mother."
Before Amaryllis could respond, Pansy moved forward with a sudden urgency, wrapping her arms around Jakob in a tight embrace, almost as if she had been holding back for far too long.
Jakob stiffened at first, caught off guard by its intensity, but the feeling of Pansy pressed against him—like something essential snapping back into place—made him relax and momentarily close his eyes.
His arms slowly encircled her, and they both seemed to breathe out as if they had found the missing piece of a puzzle neither had realized was incomplete.
For a moment, neither of them moved, both visibly relaxing into the embrace. Then, suddenly realizing she had been too impulsive, Pansy quickly let go, her face flushing with embarrassment. She glanced at her parents, who exchanged amused smiles and awkwardly cleared her throat.
"I'll, uh, give Jakob a tour of the estate," Pansy said, trying to regain her composure. She looked to her father for approval.
Lord Parkinson gave her a brief nod, and without hesitation, Pansy instinctively reached for Jakob's hand. It was as if taking his hand was the most natural thing in the world, something she had done a thousand times before.
Jakob followed without a word, feeling the warmth of her grip as she led him through the grand doors.
"Honey, isn't Pansy infatuated with the Malfoy heir anymore?" Mr Parkinson asked, his brow furrowed in mild confusion.
"Yes, dear," Lady Amaryllis replied, her gaze still fixed on the closed door through which Pansy and Jakob had just exited. "Pansy says Draco is still part of her future, but she's grown quite close to Jakob this year. She considers him one of her dearest friends."
Percival looked thoughtful, almost puzzled. "Were we like that at her age?"
His wife smiled softly, her tone reflective. "No, dear, we weren't."
Pansy led Jakob to his room, conveniently located just two doors down from her own. The guest bedroom was cosy yet refined, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the rich, dark wood furniture. A large, plush queen-sized bed took centre stage, draped in deep green bedding that matched the house's signature colours. A polished mahogany wardrobe stood proudly against the far wall, and velvet curtains framed a tall window overlooking the estate grounds.
"Will you need to unpack anything?" Pansy asked, casually sitting on the edge of the bed as Jakob wandered around, taking in the details of the room.
"No, we're leaving early tomorrow, so I just need to change before we depart," Jakob responded. A large painting on the wall depicting one of the Parkinson family's summer houses in Spain caught his attention, its bright colours standing out against the muted tones of the room.
Pansy let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed. "It's so good that you're finally here, Jake. It's been so dull with just Mum and Dad for company." She glanced at him with a slight eye roll. "I have friends, but honestly, they all seem so childish now."
Jakob smiled faintly, more amused than anything, as he sat down beside her on the bed.
"It's good to be here," he replied, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Can you describe how you've felt during our time apart?" His tone was casual, though he made a deliberate effort not to sound too curious, careful not to reveal the real reason behind his question.
Pansy frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. "Why do you want to know?"
"I'm just wondering,"
After a moment of contemplation, Pansy hesitantly answered, struggling to find the right words. "It's... it's like something's been missing, and I've been more irritable than usual."
Jakob, careful not to seem like he was scrutinizing her, gently probed further. "And how do you feel now that I'm here?"
Pansy's brow furrowed slightly as if the question puzzled her. "Now? I feel great, actually. Weirdly enough."
Before Jakob could press any further Pansy suddenly waved her hand, as though dismissing the entire line of thought. "Whatever, we should get going, or I won't have enough time to show you around before dinner."
She rose swiftly from the bed, her hand instinctively slipping into his, again as though it were the most natural thing. Jakob glanced down at their intertwined hands, an uneasy thought creeping into his mind.
Yup. The blood ritual has caused something it shouldn't have, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do to fix it.
The warm aroma of dinner simmering on the stove filled the air when they entered the kitchen. Scoopy, the Parkinsons' loyal house-elf, stood by the counter where he had arranged a few sandwiches as a light snack.
The moment Pansy and Jakob stepped in, Scoopy bowed low, his large ears twitching. "Good evening, Miss Pansy, heir Quade," he squeaked, his voice high-pitched and reverent.
Pansy gave a brief nod of acknowledgement while Jakob politely offered the elf, "Hello."
The house-elf's eyes sparkled with pride at the greeting, and he bowed again, stepping back to quietly give them space to enjoy the food.
With a playful glint in her eye, Pansy hopped up onto the counter and grabbed one of the sandwiches. Dangling it teasingly toward Jakob with a smirk, she asked, "Want this?"
Jakob rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the amusement tugging at his lips, and strolled over to her. With a swift, effortless motion, he took the sandwich from her hand. Without saying a word, he turned and leaned back between her legs as she subtly spread them, making just enough room for him.
"I recently got a house-elf," he remarked casually, taking a bite of his sandwich.
Pansy, who had also taken a bite, exchanged a surprised look with Scoopy, clearly taken aback by the statement.
She tried to chew faster, but her curiosity got the better of her. Instead, she raised a hand to her mouth and, with a hint of scepticism in her voice, said, "You mean your father got a house-elf, right?"
Jakob smirked, shaking his head. "Nooo, I did. I got to accompany him and picked ut out mysekd. It's a reward for my good grades—and a bit of motivation to keep them up."
Pansy scoffed, her face full of doubt. "That's hard to believe. Do you have any idea how much trouble it is to get a house-elf? The Ministry turns it into a complete nightmare with all the paperwork, and there's a waiting list that goes on forever."
Jakob nodded, a mischievous glint flickering in his eyes as he regarded the girl before him. "Oh, I'm well aware, but somehow, my father made it happen," he said with a playful edge.
Pansy scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, right. I'm going to need to see some actual proof." She paused, glancing around as if searching for inspiration. Then, with a smug smile creeping across her face, she added, "If you really have a house-elf, I'll… I'll let you use the bathroom first every morning for the whole next year." She finished triumphantly, crossing her arms.
Jakob raised an eyebrow at her offer, his expression still calm. He took another deliberate bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly, drawing out the moment. Finally, with a casual shrug and a slight smirk, he turned to Scoopy without breaking his relaxed demeanour.
"Can you ask Mr. Parkinson to lower the wards briefly so I can introduce Pansy to my new house-elf?" Jakob requested calmly.
Scoopy gave a quick nod and vanished with a soft pop. Jakob, unbothered, continued eating his sandwich at a leisurely pace, his confident smirk never leaving his face as he kept his gaze fixed on Pansy.
Though her arms stayed stubbornly crossed, Pansy's expression faltered for just a moment, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. Still, she stood her ground, refusing to yield. "You don't have one," she insisted again, though her voice lacked the bite it once had.
Jakob shrugged casually, entirely unfazed. "We'll find out soon enough."
A second later, another pop echoed through the room, and Scoopy reappeared.
"Master has temporarily lowered the wards to allow the house-elf to pass,"
Nodding confidently, Jakcb continued to chew, then swallowed and glanced at Pansy with a sly smirk. He cleared his throat and called out, "Ohhh, Feemey?" A soft pop echoed through the room.
In an instant, a house-elf appeared, bowing low before Jakob. The elf wore a neat black uniform adorned with a crest on the front. Pansy's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flicking between the elf and its elegant attire. Even Scoopy, who stood nearby, eyed the elf's clothing with a hint of jealousy.
"Yes, master, you called for Feemey?" the elf asked respectfully.
Jakob smiled and gestured toward Pansy. "Yes, Feemey, this is my very good friend, Pansy Parkinson."
Pansy stared, still processing the house elf's presence and its pristine attire.
She blinked in disbelief, her mind racing. "House-elf, who is your Master? And I don't mean which family. Who owns you?" Pansy asked, her voice faltering, suddenly tinged with insecurity and a hint of desperation.
Feemey hesitated for a moment, glancing at Jakob as if seeking permission. With a subtle nod from him, she answered, "Feemey is purchased and owned by Master Jakob Quade."
Pansy's arms dropped to her sides, her shock evident. "So... you're not owned by Lord Quade?" she asked, her disbelief intensifying.
"No, Feemey belongs solely to Master Jakob Quade and no one else," the elf replied firmly, her tone steady.
Jakob's lips curled into a victorious smile. "Thank you, Feemey, that will be all."
With a soft pop, the elf disappeared as quickly as she had arrived, leaving Pansy staring in astonishment.
Pansy turned to Jakob, her expression a mixture of awe and disbelief. "How in the bloody hell are you lucky enough to have a house-elf of your own?" she nearly yelled, her shock ringing through every word.
Jakob shrugged, maintaining an air of nonchalance, though the smug smirk on his lips was impossible to miss. "You'll have plenty of time to wonder about that while you're waiting for me to finish in the bathroom every morning next year," he teased, his tone dripping with playful triumph.
The look of disbelief on Pansy's face was almost too satisfying, and Jakob briefly savoured the moment. However, he quickly recalled the consequences of pushing her too far—especially the incident last year, when her temper had exploded in a way he was definitely not eager to experience again. Deciding it was wiser to dial it back, he smoothly shifted the conversation.
"I won't be able to use her at Hogwarts, though," he shrugged. "The wards won't allow it, so Feemey will stay home to help Susie while we're at school."
Pansy nodded, a slight sting of being outsmarted lingering beneath her otherwise composed expression. After a brief pause, she sighed and reached for the rest of her sandwich. "Alright, let's finish up so we can continue," she said, her tone regaining its usual steadiness.
With that, they quietly finished their sandwiches. Once done, Pansy stood up, brushing the crumbs from her lap. "Ready?" she asked.
Jakob nodded, and the two resumed their tour of the mansion, slipping back into familiar conversation as they wandered through the grand halls.
When Scoopy announced that dinner was ready, they made their way to the grand dining hall of the Parkinson estate. The room was just as impressive as the rest of the mansion, with its soaring ceilings, ornate chandeliers casting a warm glow, and a long polished table adorned with a lavish spread of food.
"I hope you find the meal to your liking, Heir Quade," Mrs Parkinson said as they took their seats, her voice carrying a hint of pride. "Pansy mentioned some of your preferences."
Jakob nodded, his eyes scanning the elegant array of dishes laid out before him. The sight stirred his appetite, and he offered a polite smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Parkinson. I must say, this looks exceptional. I doubt even Hogwarts can compete with what you've prepared tonight."
Mrs Parkinson chuckled softly, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. Hosting someone of Jakob's elite status was no small task, and she had spared no effort in ensuring everything was flawless. She and Scoopy had worked diligently to craft an exceptional dining experience, and Jakob's appreciation felt like a well-earned reward for their efforts.
"I'm glad to hear that, Heir Quade. We wanted to make sure everything was to your liking," she replied graciously, her satisfaction evident as she glanced at Pansy, who smiled subtly at her mother's success.
As dinner began, Mrs. Parkinson watched the two teens with a warm smile, content with their lively conversation. She and her husband were pleased that Pansy had managed to form such strong ties with both the Malfoy and Quade heirs—an impressive feat considering their families' prominence. Yet, they both understood that these connections came with significant expectations, ones that could shape Pansy's future.
Her mind wandered briefly to Draco Malfoy's last visit. Pansy had always been enamoured with the Malfoy heir, her crush barely hidden behind the glances and eager smiles. Mrs Parkinson had done everything in her power to make Draco's stay enjoyable, organizing various activities and providing every luxury to keep him entertained.
Yet, despite all her careful planning, it was painfully clear that the young Malfoy was unimpressed, and his disinterest was evident on his face throughout the entire visit.
Both Mrs Parkinson and her husband had been caught off guard when Pansy casually mentioned that she had invited Jakob for a two-week trip to Egypt.
While the idea initially seemed promising, they quickly recognized the potential implications. If the trip went well, it could solidify their connection with the powerful Quade family, possibly even elevating their standing with Lord Quade himself. Such an alliance would be invaluable.
However, beneath their cautious optimism lay a deeper concern. They were acutely aware of the fragile balance they needed to maintain. A failed visit could jeopardize their relationship with the Quades, a family renowned for their influence and high expectations. The Parkinsons couldn't risk any mistakes, and the pressure to ensure everything went perfectly soon had them up late into the night, planning and purchasing extra things to fit their revised expectations.
Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson could hardly conceal their astonishment during their meeting with Thomas Quade. When he casually mentioned that he would not only cover the costs for Jakob but for their entire family as a gesture of gratitude for hosting his heir and allowing him to learn from this trip, the Parkinsons exchanged what they thought was a subtle glance of shock.
Percival had spent the better part of a year setting aside funds for their grand trip to Egypt, where they had arranged to stay at one of, if not the most luxurious hotels in the country.
Yet, with nothing more than a wave of his hand, Thomas Quade had covered the expenses for all of them.
The Parkinsons, humbled by such overwhelming generosity, had tried to express their sincere gratitude, but Lord Quade had waved off their thanks without a second thought. He made it clear that it was he who owed them for the opportunity they had given his son to gain invaluable experiences.
The Parkinsons were a well-regarded noble family, but that meeting had highlighted an undeniable truth: the immense gap in wealth and influence between the Parkinsons and the ancient, powerful House of Quade.
When the meeting finally ended, and Lord Quade departed, Mrs Parkinson was caught off guard as her husband wrapped her in his arms, a rare smile lighting up his face—one she hadn't seen in so long she feared it was lost forever. He chuckled softly, telling her that this was an extraordinary opportunity, one that could solidify their connection with the Quade, potentially securing a future for House Parkinson that would be remembered for generations.
Amaryllis had never seen her husband so energized, his enthusiasm rivalling that of the days when he'd successfully secured major business deals.
But this... This felt different, even more significant. That evening, Percival had been unusually affectionate, making love to her with a passion and tenderness they hadn't shared since the early days of their marriage.
For a brief moment, Mrs Parkinson was lost in reflection as the memory of that special night drifted through her mind. She closed her eyes, if only for a second, allowing herself to savour the warmth of the thought.
"Mum?" Pansy's voice broke through her thoughts, pulling Mrs Parkinson back to the present. She blinked, refocusing on her daughter.
"Yes, dear?" she replied, her tone calm and composed.
Pansy rolled her eyes with a hint of impatience. "I asked if the hotel will have a pool."
Jakob, seated nearby, noticed the faint twitch of amusement on Mrs Parkinson's lips before she answered, "Yes, dear, there will be pools at the hotel."
As dessert was served, the conversation naturally turned to the most anticipated highlights of their upcoming trip to Egypt. Pansy's eyes sparkled with excitement as she eagerly expressed her desire to visit the Pyramids
.
Mr Parkinson, on the other hand, was more fascinated by the prospect of exploring mummies and delving into the mysteries surrounding ancient Egyptian curses. With a gleam in his eye, he began to recount the story of the Curse of Akhetem-Ra—a dark spell cast by wizards to protect a pharaoh's tomb. The curse, he explained, was said to drive any thief who dared to steal the pharaoh's treasures into madness, often ending in grisly suicides. No counter-curse had ever been discovered, leaving the magical community in the 1940s scrambling to contain the cursed artefacts before they could unleash destruction on both the magical and non-magical worlds.
As Mr. Parkinson's vivid storytelling reached its gruesome conclusion, Mrs. Parkinson shot him an unamused glare, clearly disapproving of such morbid tales over dessert. In contrast, she shifted the conversation, sharing her own plans for Egypt—exploring the lively local markets, sampling authentic Egyptian cuisine, and, most importantly, enjoying the sunshine while lounging by the pool.
"What are you most looking forward to in Egypt, Heir Quade?" Mr. Parkinson asked, his curiosity piqued. The teenage boy paused, thoughtfully considering the question.
"I want to explore everything," Jakob replied, his voice calm and measured, "but more than that, I hope to discover something forgotten." His tone carried a quiet depth, and Pansy glanced at him, intrigued and slightly puzzled.
"What do you mean by 'forgotten'?" she asked, leaning
forward, eager to hear more.
Before Jakob could respond, Percival, having just taken a bite of dessert, chimed in. "I believe he's talking about something lost to time—valuable because of its rarity and mystery."
Jakob gave a slight nod. "Exactly. Something hidden or overlooked for centuries."
Pansy's eyes lit up with curiosity. "But what could that be?" she pressed.
Jakob considered for a moment before answering, "It could be an ancient text, a spellbook that hasn't been seen in centuries, or perhaps an artifact infused with forgotten magic."
Pansy's eyebrow arched, her imagination already racing. "That would be incredible. Maybe we'll uncover something buried deep inside a pyramid."
After dinner, Pansy led Jakob to the Parkinsons' grand library, certain that he would lose himself in the vast collection of magical knowledge.
She was right. Jakob's interest deepened as they wandered through the shelves, pulling down books on potions, charms, and even some darker books, usually off-limits to Pansy. But with a bit of subtle encouragement from Jakob, they ventured into the forbidden section, cracking open one of the more dangerous tomes.
"Let's give this a try," Jakob suggested, pointing at one of the spells in the book.
Pansy hesitated momentarily, but when Jakob assured her it was alright and that he already knew the spell, she felt a bit safer. With a nod, she aimed her wand at the far wall and recited the incantation.
"Oculi e orbibus exsiliunt!"
A streak of yellow light shot from her wand, striking the wall with a sharp thud. Almost immediately, a wave of something like pleasure rushed through her, endorphins flooding her system. She assumed the thrill of casting a spell she wasn't supposed to have been the cause of the sensation.
Jakob nodded, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Good. If you use that against Potter," he said quietly, "he'll be more or less blind."
Pansy looked puzzled. "More or less?" she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion. Jakob's expression shifted into one of mild amusement as he glanced at the spot on the wall where the curse had struck.
"Well," he began, "his eyes might burst from their sockets, or they might not—it all depends on how strong the curse is when you cast it."
Pansy gasped, her eyes widening in a mix of horror and fascination. She stared down at her wand, then back at Jakob.
"Can you teach me one more?" Pansy asked, her curiosity clearly winning over any hesitation. Jakob's grin widened, eager to continue, but before he could respond, Mrs Parkinson appeared in the doorway.
"It's time for bed," she announced, her tone gentle yet firm, leaving no room for argument.
Later that evening, Jakob lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
The faint itch of not being in the same room as Pansy gnawed at him, though it was far less intense than the long weeks of summer when they were separated by miles.
"It's not worse being like this than when I'm at home, at least," he muttered softly to himself. He shifted in bed, turning onto his side in search of comfort. But despite his efforts, rest remained elusive, his mind continuing to churn with thoughts that refused to settle.
Gradually, a soft light illuminated the wall in front of Jakob, catching his attention. He turned and saw Pansy carefully opening the door, dressed in her purple satin pyjamas, her hair slightly dishevelled from lying in bed.
"Jake, are you asleep?" she whispered, moving as quietly as possible as she shut the door behind her.
Jakob, still fully awake, blinked in surprise. "Pansy, what are you doing here?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
She tiptoed over to his bed, wrapping one arm around herself, clearly feeling a bit awkward under his questioning gaze. She swayed slightly, her eyes avoiding his as she hesitated before finally speaking.
"It's just... I can't sleep," she admitted, her voice soft. "When we're at school, I don't have that problem. So... you mind scooting over?"
"Are you crazy? If your parents find out, they'll cancel the trip," Jakob hissed, his voice sharp with concern.
Pansy crossed her arms, clearly frustrated. "I know my parents, Jake. I'll be back in my room before they even wake up." She shot him a firm glare. "Now scoot!"
Jakob sighed in defeat, realizing there was no point in arguing when Pansy was this determined. He shifted to the other side of the bed, lifting the covers as she slipped in beside him.
For a moment, they lay in silence. Jakob's gaze settled on her back, her dark hair spilling over the pillow. Her scent was familiar, comforting in a way that made something inside him relax. It felt natural as if this was where they were meant to be.
Just as Jakob's eyes began to grow heavy, Pansy shifted, turning to face him. Her expression was tight, and she bit her lip, clearly mulling something over. Whatever it was, it worried her, and Jakob could see the hesitation in her eyes as she searched for the right words.
"Umm, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Draco about this. He wouldn't get it, and he might... you know, take it the wrong way," Pansy said, her voice soft, with a hint of concern.
Jakob rolled his eyes in response, prompting her to ask with a louder, sharper whisper, "What?"
"Nothing," he replied, his tone casual. "I won't say anything. Even if I wanted to, I can't betray you, remember?" There was a playful hint in his voice, masking the slight irritation he felt.
Pansy smiled, the tension in her features easing as she nodded. A small yawn escaped her as her eyes fluttered shut.
"You know, this is better than Hogwarts," she whispered, her hand slipping beneath the covers to find his.
Jakob, who had just closed his eyes, felt the familiar warmth of her fingers curling around his. He smiled softly. "Yeah," he murmured, "it is."
Their hands stayed linked under the covers as they drifted off to sleep. The itch they both had felt as they spent time apart melted away, leaving them with the first true moment of peace since summer began.
When Jakob woke up that morning, the bed beside him was empty. He blinked groggily, pushing the covers aside with a sigh.
"She really did it," he muttered to himself, stretching his arms above his head.
He dressed quickly, running a hand through his unruly hair before heading to the guest bathroom to brush his teeth.
Just as Jakob was finishing up in the bathroom, there was a knock at the door. With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he opened it to find his roommate standing there, bright-eyed and annoyingly full of energy.
"Good morning!" she chirped, stepping inside and perching herself on the closed toilet seat. "Did you sleep well?"
Jakob shot her an exaggerated look of annoyance, spitting out the toothpaste. "Terrible. Someone—or something—was snoring all night."
Pansy stood and gave him a light slap on the shoulder. "Oh, stop. Come on, we need to get breakfast before we head out."
The two of them joined the others for breakfast. The table was filled with chatter as they discussed the day's plans.
Their plan for the day was straightforward: first, they would check into the hotel and unpack. Once they were settled, the group would set out to explore the city, with their first stop being the museum.
The museum was rumoured to house a collection of magical artefacts once owned by an ancient pharaoh.
Pansy couldn't hold back a laugh as her father started discussing the pharaoh. "It's amusing how Muggles think he was some sort of god when in reality, he was just a wizard."
"Yes, dear," Mr Parkinson replied with a knowing smile. "But the pharaoh showed us something that I believe we've lost sight of in today's wizarding world."
"What's that, Dad?" Pansy asked, still chuckling
, though her curiosity was piqued.
"He showed us a world as it should be—Muggles bowing to wizards," Mr. Parkinson's tone grew firm and almost lecturing. "They may see him as a god, but he and his lineage accomplished something extraordinary for Egypt. Muggles served their purpose, some even gave their lives in the process of creating magical marvels. And I, for one, would make that sacrifice again if it meant restoring the world to its proper order."
Pansy nodded along to her father's words. So did the others around the table.
After breakfast, they gathered their bags, preparing for the day ahead.
They stepped into the fireplace one by one, using the Floo Network to travel to the Ministry of Magic. The familiar swirl of green flames spat them out into the bustling atrium, where witches and wizards hurried through their day's business.
They made their way to the travel desk, where Mr. Parkinson exchanged a few words with the clerk. After a brief conversation, she handed over their international portkey—a worn, leather-bound book.
With everything in place, they all gathered around the portkey. In a flash, the familiar tug behind their navels yanked them from Great Britain, sending them abroad for two weeks.
