"Oh, look …" Rouvenia mumbles as she puts the Daily Prophet down. The yellowish paper almost dips into her juice and breakfast eggs as she points at one of the headlines.

As though the most important duel of the century hadn't taken place here just a few weeks ago, things have long since returned to daily routine. Even today, the very date of our last final exam.

"Borgin & Burke's will probably have to close soon," Rouvenia sighs. "They're writing they already prepare for that …"

Harper and I indeed glance up from our breakfasts at these words – shrugging, though.

"And why's that?" Harper eventually asks, the tone of her voice implying she's not too sure if she wants to know …

"Apparently business hasn't been good for a while now," Rou summarizes after reading a few more lines of the article. "Says here they're not selling enough. The goods have apparently become uninteresting, nothing of value or special history. And the few regular customers can't save them. Can you imagine?" She pouts. "Knockturn Alley without this shop?"

"Pretty sad," Elliott finds as he pours us another cup of coffee. "They're reputation may be preceding them, but B certainly has a long tradition … My Grams often bought ingredients for her potions there."

And my own mother changed the rules of Grindelwald's game there.
As did Burke …

I'll consume a potion and forget that this conversation ever took place. Weren't those his words? And I will believe that you left me your heirloom for only ten galleons because you were very desperate. More I cannot do for you. Let people talk. Demonize us. What people think is never important. Only what happens behind closed doors. And who knows? Maybe your son will see this one day and help me in return.

I put my book about theoretical exam contents aside and give Harper a questioning glance. "What were your goals for our last year again, in whatever order?

"My goals?" She hesitantly lowers her toast. "I want my graduation score to be higher than yours –"

"Let me rephrase that, darling," I interrupt her with a ready smile, "what were your realistic goals this year?"

Indignation flashing across her face as she raises her chin.

"It is realistic, Riddle," she grumbles while I can't help but grin. "We're not done yet – don't get too excited!"

It was utter madness that made us both sign up for the rare constellation of seven subjects for our final exams.

We were the only ones to choose this colorful bouquet – as foolish as it was ambitious. Whoever still had their wits about them actually focused on five or six subjects at best. But due to our irrational competition with each other, neither Harper nor I would let go of anything – and no amount of reason in the world could counteract imposing the most excessive workload possible on one another.

So with no vow to be complied to, and no more duels of historic significance to come, we've been more immersed in our academic goals than ever, since weeks. It doesn't matter that we hardly have time for anything else.

Because everything else can wait.
That long overdue visit in Little Hangelton to make up with the Riddles definitely can, now that Grindelwald's no longer imposing a threat on them …
Hell, even my formal marriage proposal has to wait. I simply found myself unable to get down on my knees so far, and therefore kept putting it off …

But none of it is a priority until we hold the highest scoring NEWTs in our hands – a goal we got closer to with every exam taken.

After months of preparation in Magical Theory and Charms, we knew we wouldn't have any difficulties.
I was somewhat skeptical about Wolburry and History of Magic. I'd initially suspected he was a tad prejudiced against me due to his lingering mistrust, but there was simply no ground for deductions.
Herbology with Beery was no problem either – in fact, the practical part was surprisingly informal and relaxed. The fourth Outstanding – at least for me …

Harper, still fuming at the thought of it, only managed to score an Exceeds Expectations due to a particularly snappy Mandrake she couldn't quite discipline.

As I'd made the fatuous comment that she shouldn't have worked with Dean for that very lesson, she almost cursed me off the astronomy tower – but triumph comes in many forms. Ever since that day, I've been ahead of her.

Harper knows that, too. So while we both fully scored in Slughorn's Potions again, she couldn't help but gloat in the light of the fact that none other than Albus Dumbledore would be grading our Transfiguration test. She kept speculating she'd catch up on me, counting on a smug revenge from Dumbledore for … basically everything.

But even though I could tell he would've loved to humble me, he simply couldn't justify a mere Exceeds Expectations – my performance spoke for itself.

And so, at the end of our fierce competition for the best grades of the year, all that remains to be tested is Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought. That exam – usually a spectacle the entire school attends to watch – makes all graduate students face each other in randomly drawn duel pairs. It's the Grand Final of the seventh year – and the highest scoring test.

"Traveling," I recall, promptly getting looks from the others. "You wanted to travel, Harper. Right?"

She nods. "Yes, but … what does that have to do with our graduation or Borgin & Burke's?"

"Traveling would tie in perfectly with the search for lost artifacts while we investigate and, if possible, break Nagini's curse to write a book about it."

"You plan to write a book?"

"We read all the time. Why not write? What else would we do?"

"A book about archaeology and Maledicti? What are the artifacts for?"

"Easy money," I reply. "I already worked for Burke once last year."

Harper slowly shakes her head, purring, "You're lying to my face, handsome. Rouvenia's headline stirs the noble virtue of justice in you, doesn't it?" Her grin turns into a touched smile. "Burke helped your mother when she was all alone. You want to return the favor."

I drink up my coffee in one sip, then I mumble, "Like I'm that sentimental."

"Of course not," Harper mocks – not believing a word I say.

One good deed is enough for her to make up for my lifetime of sinfulness. But as is so often the case, she only sees the light in me.

Only just visiting the capital for Burke would be hopelessly inefficient. I not only have to thank those who helped Merope in London – I'll also haunt those that didn't … Halloween is far away still. May the darkness swallow me whole, but I've been feeling hatred bubble up inside me for a while now, and I'm literally imploding …

But why would I mention any of that? They'd all think it to be morally reprehensible anyway – and I don't need absolution.

"All right," Harper eventually says, reaching for her toast again, "then you've got a lot to do after your last final."

"Why after," I retort, already getting up. "You're all welcome to keep practicing dueling etiquette, but I've never been better anyway and I don't plan on wasting my time."

"What do you plan on doing instead?" Rouvenia asks, taken aback already. "You think you can go to London in the morning and then quickly win a duel in the afternoon?"

"I do. I've had a few little things to check in London for a while anyway."

"You're off to London on exam day?" Black suddenly calls out to me as well, sounding like a confused owl hungry for gossip. "Do you really think that's a good idea? What if they move the exam schedule?"

I don't even look at him. "Orion, don't make a fool of yourself, you embarrass our house – there's never been a change of schedule ever since the school was founded."

"But he's right," Harper whispers, "can't Burke wait?"

"What for? I could even take Artemis for a walk before the exam starts …"

"Oh, the hubris," Harper groans. She's rarely ever agreed with Orion Black, but they seem equally outraged now.

"Well," Elliott cackles, however, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk, "it's not as though he'd still have to practice …"

We all know it. I've never been better. The lack of sleep is ever more compensated for by the most powerful magic that's ever flowed through my veins.

Harper hates the overwhelming likelihood of me scoring my seventh Outstanding and thus be one up on her for good – but basically, she's already lost.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, darling," I whisper to her, "carpe diem – have fun practising."

"You're terribly condescending, know pride comes before the fall!" she calls after me in vain.

I already leave the Great Hall with a vague smile on my face.

I adore her zealous ambition …

"Get away from the door, children, we're not expecting any visitors!" Artemis and I hear a woman's voice behind the old door in the hallway.

London is famous for its art and culture, always at the pulse of time – but also for narrow corridors with walls thinner than paper …

Revisiting Merope's memory in the Room of Requirement before leaving for the capital, I took mental notes of the surroundings, quickly forming a rough idea of where she and Thomas must've found a home back then.

I was right.
Not a good neighborhood indeed, more or less a rookery, and not that hard to find after growing up in close proximity anyway.

Jim's was practically on the way – I couldn't resist taking Artemis out for a walk as I claimed I could.

"Hello?" the woman yells again, opening her door just enough to glare at me. She looks me up and down, but especially the huge Rottweiler next to me seems to cause her a maximum of discomfort. "Who are you? Do we know each other?"

"No, ma'am, I'm just a student looking for accommodation in –"

"I don't have a place to stay!" A toddler steps up to the door as well, the woman promptly shoos her back. "Get inside! Now, hurry!" She shifts her tired gaze back to me. "You won't find a place in this house."

"Thought so, ma'am," I hasten to say before she can slam the door shut in impatience, "but I got an anonymous tip and hoped to find your landlord, just to –"

"Ruby, don't climb up there!" she shouts inside. It's in parts the stress that eventually makes her decide that a handsome face will hardly mean danger. "Just a second, watch the dog for Heaven's sake …" she sighs, leaving the door open and rushing to the small fitted kitchen by the window to stop her daughter from getting up to mischief on the stove.

Now that she's not just peeking at me through a small crack in the door and I get to see her whole silhouette at the other end of the room, it's easy to tell that she's with child again.

Like Merope was, exactly here …

"Colin, put the milk back, we can't afford you spilling it!"

Colin – as if caught in the act – nevertheless sits down on the battered sofa with the glass bottle still in hand, smiling at Artemis and me.

Big children's eyes on a small face. He waves at me as he keeps on playing with the milk bottle. It's constantly about to roll off the cushions …

"Ruby, put it down!" the young mother demands, grabbing her daughter to stop her from running away. In view of her circumstances, it seems quite difficult, but she has to take care of the chaos her already born children create. "Let it go and put it down! What have you got there? A match? Put it down, now!"

She lets out a harsh breath, then she looks at me again.

"Does the dog obey you?" she asks, gulping.

"She does."

"Then do come in for a moment, I …" She's closing her eyes for a heartbeat long, then she desperately groans up the ceiling, "I have to watch them every waking second, can you imagine?"

"I see it's a lot …"

She nods, demanding yet again, "Come on in! I don't want to heat this place for nothing, there's a draught!"

I finally move, but I never really planned on entering the cursed four walls in which, quite likely, my forced conception –

"Ruby! How many matches did you take? Have you got another one? Put! It! Down!"

One of the tiny pieces of wood hits the ground with a clicking sound as the small hand lets go.

"Oh, wonderful …" the young woman moans, about to pick it up with her daughter still on her arm, but I'm faster.

"You shouldn't do that in your condition," I say, handing her the match.

"Guess heaven sent you after all."

Oh well, I don't know …

She immediately frowns at her daughter again. "You've got more, haven't you? Give them back!"

While mother and daughter are trying each other's patience, I can hardly deny how much this apartment actually bothers me. There's not much to see – the room is as tiny as it is dilapidated. While Artemis sits down next to Colin and lets him pet her devoutly, I take a slow walk around. Past the wall where she told him she was pregnant, past the spot where the coffee table they got from the waste used to be …

Nothing has changed about the old wallpaper and the dirty floor, only the furnishings seem different.

A matt, black-spotted mirror by the door shows me my face before I can avoid it. I could swear my pale skin has turned green in here …

"Do you feel unwell?"

Fairly surprised, I raise a brow at Colin.
Why do children sense things like that?

"I'm fine …"

While Ruby's mother is confiscating what is now the fifth match at the other end of the room, it finally happens – the milk bottle rolls off a cushion.

Colin desperately tries to stop it from falling to the floor, causing a white shard disaster, but he can't possibly react fast enough to defy gravity.

I can.
Without words, without a movement – and yet Colin immediately looks up at me in amazement as he suddenly holds the bottle in his hand again, against all logic.

"Is that it now, Ruby?" his mother sternly asks as I wink at him. He just grins, fascinated, exchanging glances with Artemis until his mother eventually hurries towards us.

"Excuse me!" she groans, back to examining my face and clothes. "How can I help you again? What are you doing in this part of town anyway? You surely don't belong here. Think hard about whether you want to live here –"

"Oh, I am from here."

She stares at my white, neatly ironed shirt in irritation. "You don't look like that at all …"

"It's just clothes."

She laughs without a spark of joy in response. "Even your Rottweiler lady's coat's shiny." A little skeptically, she also begins to pet Artemis until the first relaxed smile spreads across her face. "You're a good girl, I can tell …" She works up her last bit of patience for me. "And who exactly sent you?"

"I got a tip that your landlord might have a vacancy a few streets down –"

"Oh, sure." She shrugs her shoulders as she places Ruby next to her brother. "Could be."

"That's why I was hoping you might tell me where to find him. A small, chubby man in a –"

"In a tweed suit with mostly red suspenders?"

I nod, almost too somberly. "Indeed."

She turns on her heel to aim towards the small kitchen. She pulls out a piece of paper and I hear her mumble as she writes a note.

As she hands it me, she says, "But you didn't get this here, yeah?"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Good luck." Obviously tired, she takes the bottle of milk from Colin's hand. "Think twice about having children," she sighs as she does so.

I can barely keep myself from voicing latent cynicism. "They don't fall from the sky …"

"No." She waves it off. "But no one prepares you for the work they cause."

"One day, I'm sure they'll thank you for it," I hear myself say as my gaze wanders around the apartment one last time. "One day, they will understand what it cost you. And the sacrifices you made."

"You think so?"

When I notice how puzzled she seems, I give her a wan smile. "Never mind. Thank you for your time. Artemis, come …"