The Burden of Birthrights

THE BURDEN OF BIRTHRIGHTS

CHAPTER TWO: ONE WEEK

The night following her father's birthday party had been one of the longest in Grace's life. She had quickly left her sisters and made her way around Blackwell Manor performing her usual nightly checks before retreating to her room for some much needed quiet. She had only wished that the silence that she found in her room were also to be found in her mind. There were few things that Grace Blackwell could honestly state that she disliked, but several of those things had come crashing into her life with the force of a winter storm.

She hated surprises, she abhorred unresolved questions and she loathed sleeplessness. That night held court to all three of her greatest dislikes. She had been in a grumpy mood as she walked to her room that night and had high hopes that the morning would bring her better counsel or at the very least a better mood.

However, it proved far harder to get to sleep than she anticipated. She could not seem to stop herself from replaying the scene in her father's study. She was an Order member now, and although she appreciated this to be something of grave importance, she was still rather clueless to what it really meant in layman's terms.

Grace turned the pitiful amount of information that she had at hand around in her mind. It just did not all add up. She simply knew too little about the Order. She was still rather stunned that her father had even offered her the charmed envelope. Grace knew that while her father trusted her with many important responsibilities, they were usually tied to the running of the Blackwell estates.

She felt her eyelids droop. She concentrated on letting her body go boneless and tried to force it to relax. It worked to a certain degree. Grace did slip into sleep, but it was one that was restless and disturbed and filled with strange half-formed dreams.

Hours later, Grace awoke to something tickling her nose. She tried to blow whatever it was away. It returned as soon as she stopped. She could feel consciousness start to worm its way into her body.

"No, I don't want to get up...Go away."

Grace's voice fell off into soft grumblings and she twisted herself up in her blankets. She tried very hard to ignore the tickling feeling that was moving down her face to her neck. It moved towards her armpits. She gave a shriek of laughter and shot up in her bed. Her cousin, Edward, was sitting on her bed next to her, holding his wand above her and wearing a slightly disappointed expression.

She grinned sleepily at Edward and tried to rub the sandpapery feeling from under her eyelids.

"It's past nine Gracie."

The grin slid from her face.

"What!"

She leapt into a standing position on top of her bed. Edward quickly stood up.

"I didn't hear ... oh no ...there are things to be...and breakfast..."

Grace's ramblings were cut short by a tremendous bang from the next room. A door had just been slammed shut with great force. Edward and Grace both gave a surprised jump. She gave her cousin a questioning look. Edward shook his head at her; he didn't know what that was either.

"I will take an educated guess though, let's assume that that is round forty thousandth, six hundredth and thirty second of the bathroom wars," he said with a smirk.

Grace gave made a face.

Why couldn't the younger Blackwells be as reasonable as Edward?

She gave him a grateful look and patted his shoulder. He chuckled. It was a good thing that she was standing on the bed otherwise she would have had to pat his elbow instead. Furious banging made their way through her bedroom walls. Music was turned all the way up.

Grace looked at Edward in resignation and reached for her dressing gown. He walked to the door and opened it.

Glory and Joy's voices shot through the open doorway. They didn't sound angry at each other, they sounded angry at whoever was now trying to drown them out with the music coming from the inside to the bathroom.

Edward looked at Grace with amusement.

"I'll get one if you get the other."

She nodded and headed into the hallway. She pulled her wand from her dressing gown pocket and walked to the bathroom door.

*

The witches took no notice of the arrival of their elder sister and cousin. They continued to hammer the bathroom door with fists and the occasional foot.

Edward heard Grace count to ten under her breath. He was very glad that he did not have to share a bathroom with anyone other than his mum. These nearly daily arguments grew exponentially worse during the holidays when all the girls were in residence. They got utterly out of hand when Glory was visiting; his blond cousin seemed to have that effect on her sisters.

The only difference today was that Glory wasn't barricaded in the bathroom, ignoring the pleas from the pileup on the other side of the door, and the absence of Honour, who usually whole-heartedly joined in the ruckus.

It seemed to Edward that Honour actually enjoyed these morning familial tiffs.

"I got mine out...you can use it Joy! You won't get in trouble for...oh!"

Honour had come tearing out of her room down the corridor. She caught sight of the two Blackwells standing, wands out, behind her two other sisters.

Grace held out her hand in Honour's direction. The curly-headed youngest placed her wand in her sister's outstretched palm.

"Thank you, Pet. You may have it back in two days."

Grace gave her little sister a look that brooked no nonsense. Honour scowled at Grace grumpily.

"I have told you repeatedly, Honour. No wands. No wand work in the house and certainly no wand work against your sisters or your house. Really!"

Honour's face slipped into a pout.

The incredible noise from the bathroom door had not abated one whit and Grace just snapped.

She whipped her wand out in front of her.

"THAT IS ENOUGH! WE ARE NOT SAVAGES IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!"

She sent a skin-pinching hex at both the girls at the door.

Joy and Glory jumped in the air and grabbed the places on their arms that had felt the sting of their elder sister's hex.

In Edward's opinion, Grace's statement was highly debatable. He really didn't enjoy these little altercations between family members the way some people around here did. Honour was looking entirely too interested in Grace's hex; she looked as though she was going to put in her unwarranted and totally unnecessary two Knuts worth.

Edward reached out and caught his cousin by the arm and started to drag her off towards the stairs.

"Breakfast time, I think."

"But I..."

"Yeah. Exactly."

"Oh Fine, but then you owe me a game of Exploding Snap."

Edward groaned. He hated that game.

*

Back in front of the bathroom door, Joy hopped around to face Grace. She looked ready to take her aggressor's head off until she saw just who the aggressor was.

"Gracie?"

Joy wanted to indulge herself with a hurt look, but settled for just rubbing her hexed arms.

"Ren has been in there forever, Gracie, she is using all the hot water and-"

"Oh for...Are you a witch, Joy? An of-age witch that can use her magic any time that she feels like it?"

Grace stared her bubble-headed sister down. There was no reason for Joy's never ending lack of logic. She reached in between the sisters and pointed her wand at the door.

"Alohomora!"

The door clicked open and Grace walked into the bathroom. The music turned off with a snap.

Joy and Glory looked at each other with a bit of satisfaction and a bit of irritation.

"You should have thought of that Joy," Glory told her elder sister snidely.

"Oh shut it Gore-y."

Grace returned from the bathroom, closed the door behind her and muttered something at the door while swishing her wand at the hinges. She turned around to face her sisters with a don't-even-start-with-me look on her face.

"Serenity will be out in a moment."

Glory opened her mouth to say something to Grace.

"Save it Glory. There was no reason for either of you to be carrying on like that."

Grace gave her younger siblings one more warning look and set a time charm to twenty minutes. She cinched her dressing gown tightly around her waist as if signalling to the younger Blackwells that the matter was now indeed closed.

"Stay no longer than twenty minutes in that bathroom...I have set the charm here to open the door and make the water run cold. And no, Joy. Your wand will not have any effect on the charm...so don't even think of it."

She looked from one mutinous face to the other. Glory looked as though she had something else she would like to add. Grace was not, however, in the mood to hear a long list of the usual grievances about the nature of the sub-standard living arrangements at the Manor at present. She raised her finger to her sister in warning.

"If I hear one more disagreement," she looked pointedly at Glory, "Or even one more miniscule complaint, Morgana help you, but I will not be responsible for my wand's actions."

Grace rarely glared overtly or menacingly at anyone, but when she did it was a thoroughly quelling experience.

Glory's mouth snapped shut peevishly under her elder sister's unblinking gaze.

"Joy. You're next. Glory...I mean it...just go have breakfast or something...No Glory...last warning."

Grace watched her young sister stalk off down the corridor in a great huff. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

Morgana, I pray that you give me patience with that one today.

Joy giggled.

"Looks like princess Gore-y has decided to start the day as her usual delightful mood. Ya think, Gracie?"

Joy looked, for some reason unknown to Grace, rather pleased with herself.

Grace was not amused. She shot her usually likeable sister "the look" and Joy's face quickly regained a somewhat penitent expression.

"We all know that Glory can be a touch ...erm...difficult..." Grace began.

Joy's eyebrows shot straight up into her fringe, her expression one of open and utter incredulity. Her wide hazel eyes filling with suppressed feeling.

"Oh, all right," Grace's mouth tugged into a small smile, "She is a downright pain in the neck, among other things."

Joy's composure cracked and she began to laugh in earnest. This was another rare occurrence; Grace never had anything even mildly off-colour to say about anyone.

"However...that is no reason to bait her. Really, Joy. Please. For the sake of all our collective sanities, promise me that you will NOT get the princess going. All right?"

Joy grinned back at her sister and nodded her assent.

"Thank you. Now, I'd best make a quick trip to the kitchen lest Gore-y...er...Glory not find anything suitable for her delicate sensibilities."

Joy burst out laughing.

OH! Gracie is in a fine form today. Not nine-thirty and she is losing it.

Grace smiled wryly and headed towards the stairs.

Honestly, why does the Brat have to get everyone up in arms all the time? Why can't she visit and be pleasant company for a change?

Grace was halfway down the stairs, her to-do list growing steadily in her mind when a loud clatter rattled its way up to her. She stilled, her ears trying to locate the origin of the noise.

A resounding crash and a bellow of frustration came barrelling towards Grace.

The kitchen. If that is Glory's doing...I warned her, so help me, I am going to give that girl the tongue lashing she so richly deserves.

*

Grace raced down the stairs and to the kitchen door. She skidded to a halt at the sight before her, the angry words she had readied in her mind died on her lips. Her hands flew to her mouth. She knew that she shouldn't laugh, but given the morning that she had already had, the sight of her aunt covered in what appeared to be crepe batter and surrounded by most of the pans in the kitchen, was making her lips twitch uncontrollably. Grace knew that her urge to give in to the giggles that pressed against her lips was probably not the wisest thing to do. Mathilda's face had turned a violent shade of violet. She fought the urge valiantly and settled for her mouth spasming instead.

Her aunt looked like she was in the midst of a fit of bad temper that only Mathilda could manage, it would be exhausting for anyone else.

Grace decided that she would giver her aunt a wide berth and allow her a moment or two to recover from her mild culinary accident before broaching the reason for the temper. It was never a good idea to try and talk to Mattie when she was like this. Somehow, what ever it was, it would end up the interrupter's fault for just speaking to her.

Grace looked around the kitchen and over to the roomy breakfast area.

Edward sat at the table nervously chewing on some toast. He glanced furtively at his raging mother with concern making his near-perfect face look older than his sixteen years. Grace caught his eye and smiled reassuringly at him and wrinkled up her nose.

It's all right, love. I know that it isn't pleasant, but this will blow over. It always does...

However, Grace frowned inwardly.

Edward was such a good boy, but so nervous...especially around his mother. It wasn't right.

The frown was followed by a sigh.

Honour had just come traipsing in and plopped herself down on the table. The cereal that she was eating seemed to have made its way down onto her dressing gown.

Why was she always such a sloppy eater? It wasn't very hard. Open mouth, insert food, close mouth and chew. The front of her clothes did not always have to come into the equation.

Another smaller crash sounded behind Grace.

Mattie slammed something down very hard.

Grace could hear her aunt muttering furiously under her breath. Apparently the night had done nothing to improve her aunt's mood.

Not going to deal with that just yet.

Grace turned her attention back to the breakfast area.

As if to distract her cousin from his angry mother, Honour was now happily swinging her legs back and forth and, in the process, lightly kicking Edward in the leg.

Edward was grinning at his toast and making some under the table grabs at her ankles

Grace rolled her eyes.

Well, all's normal there.

Her eyes shifted to Glory, who sat at the breakfast bar, just about as far away as she could from her family members. Her face and form were a study of lady-like disdain.

Grace felt a stab of indignation rise at her younger sister's condescending manner. She quelled it almost as quickly as it began.

At least she is being blessedly quiet about it.

Grace chuckled inwardly.

For once...

The doors to the breakfast area swung open with a loud swoosh and Pru sauntered in. Grace's mouth twisted about on itself when she noted that her elder sister was still wearing the same clothes as the night before. Grace would bet the Manor and all the Blackwell holdings that her sister would also smell of smoke and stale ale.

Great way to be a role model Pru...

She heard the muttering get louder behind her and took this to be her cue to inquire as to how she might help her aunt. It'd be better to deal with Mattie before she got a look at Post-Pub Crawl Pru. She shot her elder sister a look of warning and cocked her head towards the kitchen.

Pru gave her a questioning look, peered over the breakfast bar and gave Grace a thumbs-up sign.

"Hallo, Aunt Mattie!" Pru called to her aunt.

The rattling and muttering stopped abruptly.

Grace gave her elder sister a withering look and scuttled off into the kitchen to hopefully head off any further explosions of auntly outrage.

Pru, from her vantage point of the doorway, took in the domestic scene in front of her.

She grinned widely.

She knew from the atmosphere that something was rotten in the state of Denmark. Although the reason for the stink was intriguing, she would rather create distractions for her perceptive sister than answer any questions that that same sister might awkwardly ask about her activities of the night before. Pru had hoped to find the Manor's occupants well into their daily routines by now. It was nearly ten in the morning, but apparently she was not the only Blackwell to have had a late one last night.

Pru sniffed her arm.

Goddess...but I do smell like the day after the night before. I'll just get a quick bite and head for a shower. Better make it fast by the sounds of things.

Pru was not in the mood for questions, recriminations or pointed looks this morning. She had a slight hangover; she was late for work and last night's surprise events were sinking in slowly. Combined, these factors were not making her particularly sweet tempered. She had the distinct impression, and her impressions were rarely wrong, that her life had just changed irrevocably. She did not take to irrevocable changes as breezily as some people apparently did.

She looked at the three youngest Blackwells and felt a powerful protective urge envelop her. Honour and Edward were still playing their little kick-grab game, and Glory was still nibbling at her breakfast with her usual nose-in-the-air attitude.

They have no idea...none at all.

The enormity of that thought was sickening to the hardy witch. She quickly ran a strong hand through her tangled black hair, giving it a yank. The concrete feeling of her scalp tingling brought her back to earth. Still, looking at them, Prudence felt something swish about her insides in an uneasy manner. She wasn't entirely sure that it was a good idea to keep them in the dark about something as momentous as the return of You-Know-Who.

She took a deep breath, fixed her usual grin on her face and strode to the table.

"Mornin' Eddie." Pru announced herself loudly as she reached between her cousin and sister to the food that was laid out on the table before them. Honour's leg swung up. Just before it collided with her elder sister's body, Pru's hand shot down with lightening speed and caught hold of her little sister's calf.

Honour gave a small surprised jump. She had been playing at this with Eddie for the last five minutes and he had yet to catch hold of her.

Pru winked at her little sister and released her leg. She pulled her hand up and gave Honour's rear a light smack.

"Come on, Pet, off the table. No one wants to eat food that's had your bottom near it."

Honour obligingly hopped down and scooted into a chair.

Pru saw Edward smile into his tea. She suspected that he had told the littlest Blackwell this exact same thing several times. Pru snatched up some toast and fruit and gave Edward a friendly nudge with her elbow, causing him to take a much larger gulp of tea than he had intended. He gave her a wry chipmunk-like look.

She laughed and made her way to the window. As she passed Glory, she heard the young witch give a disdainful sniff. Pru marched back to her uppity sister and moved very close to her.

"Mornin' to you too, Brat," Pru said in an extremely good-natured voice, "Have a good night did you?"

Glory regarded at her elder sister with ill-concealed annoyance. She gave her long blond hair a toss and looked the much taller witch boldly in the eyes. She gave a deliberate sniff in Pru's direction.

"Not as good as you," she sniffed again, "obviously."

Glory shifted in her seat and turned her back to her sister.

Pru cackled loudly at the Brat.

"Always a pleasure, eh Glory?"

Pru ruffled her blond sister's hair roughly and gave the back of her head a small shove.

Glory squeaked in indignation, but did not press the issue any further. Pru really didn't care.

"Well...Good mornin' to you anyways, Brat."

Pru was about to dig into her breakfast when an angry voice came ricocheting into the breakfast area from the kitchen.

"I DON"T CARE, GRACE! HE IS BEING UTTERLY IRRESPONSIBLE. OF ALL THE DIM-WITTED, NEAR-SIGHTED DECISIONS TO MAKE, THIS ONE IS ONE OF THE MOST...MOST..."

Mathilda started to sputter, her anger so intense that she could no longer get her mouth to form the words that raced around her mind.

Everything came to a stand still on the other side of the breakfast bar. Any pretence of trying to ignore Mathilda was instantaneously dropped.

Pru gave the room a quick once over.

Glory looked disapproving. Pru almost laughed. Apparently the only temperamental outbursts that the blond witch condoned were her own.

How bloody typical...

The urge to laugh died as she looked at the other two young occupants of the breakfast table. Honour looked dismayed and cowed. Edward, well, he looked even more uptight than usual. His large hands were clenched and his back was ramrod straight.

Poor bloke.

Pru knew that, more often than not, Edward got the worse of Mathilda's temper.

He really only had himself to blame there. Why didn't he just walk out of the room like the rest of them did?

Pru really couldn't understand Edward's perverse need to stay near Mattie when she was like this. She could hear Grace's soft voice trying to placate their aunt; however, Mathilda would not be placated.

"GRACE," Mathilda yelled emphatically as though she did not already have her niece's undivided attention, "YOU know and I KNOW that his IDIOTIC solution...is NOT the BEST solution."

Mathilda took a deep breath.

Pru guessed that she was about to really have a misplaced go at Grace.

Time for some diversionary tactics...

Pru made her way into the kitchen with her best insolently jaunty walk. It was a sure fire way to divert Mat's fire onto her person. Pru grinned to herself. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that no one irritated her aunt more than she did.

She took a quick peek around the corner of the breakfast bar. What she saw nearly made her shout with laughter. As is, she started to shake with mirth. Grace was trying to placate the storming Mattie, while trying to catch hold of the frying pan that her aunt was swinging around as she talked. Grace only came to her Aunt's shoulder but was quite valorously attempting to catch hold of the iron implement before her aunt did any damage to herself, to Grace or to the kitchen as a whole. Mathilda, however, didn't seem to realize that she was armed and dangerous, so she ignored her quietly exasperated niece.

"Fine morning, ain't it Mat?" Pru threw into the kitchen to herald her arrival into the one-sided discussion.

Pru took in the horrendous mess that had settled all around her aunt.

OH HO! Grace must be lovin' this. Mat hasn't been in this fine a form in a long, long while. This kitchen is in shambles. Almost looks as if one of us duelled in here.

Pru considered the shambles in the kitchen and her aunt's purple face. There were only a few known causes for Mattie's current emotional state.

Hmmm... It couldn't be me, I just got here. Tempe's not here either, so... right... Dad. It has to be.

She sauntered over to her aunt and gave her a once over.

"Technical problems this morning, Mattie?" Pru queried as she pointed to the drying battery stuff that coated most of her aunt's robe front.

Grace's eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently at Pru in alarm.

Oh NO! No, no, no... Not a good time, Pru. Really not a good time and... Sweet Merlin! You smell. She is going to...

Mathilda's face hardened.

"You stink of-"

Pru opened her mouth to offer an example of what she smelled of.

"No. Don't bother. Fine example you are, Prudence. I believe this is a work day for you and yet, here you are at ten in the morning, stinking up the kitchen bold as brass..."

Mathilda squinted malevolently at her niece.

Pru returned her aunt's look with a cheeky smile.

Mathilda wasn't done.

"And speaking of bold and brassy...Where is your boozy floozy of a sister? I have not seen hide or hair of Temperance all morning. DO NOT tell me that she has come and gone. I have been up since five this morning."

Pru looked at her aunt with, to Mathilda's eyes, a maddeningly blank expression.

"Er...Dunno, Mattie. Not her keeper, you know," Pru said with practiced detachment.

Mat. Trust me. You really don't want to know. Tempe is probably, at this very moment, going for round three or four with the bloke she met last night.

Pru poured herself a cup of coffee.

"What Tempe does with her time is her own business," Pru began, "I think you had some other concern that you were discussing with Grace. Tempe and me are not the real...er...issue at hand and I know how much you dislike straying from the real issue at hand."

Grace shot her sister an exasperated look.

Mathilda look as though she was trying to decide which 'issue at hand' was irking her more: her nieces' highly improper behaviour or her idiot brother's stupid decision making skills.

"Temperance and I," Mathilda corrected her niece out of habit.

The thought that was causing her the most worry at the moment won out, even though giving Pru a dressing down was sorely tempting in this instance.

"Your father," Mathilda said with forced calm," has made the hair-brained decision to send Honour to Hogwarts for the next school term."

There, she had said it. Surely Pru would understand why this was such an ill-conceived idea. Irritating as her niece was, the girl was extremely fond of her youngest sister.

Pru blinked and her face went blank.

Honour...Hogwarts...okay, not what I expected. Well, she has to go somewhere. Can't have her round here, with no real supervision, getting into everyone's way.

Mathilda tapped her foot impatiently.

Grace chewed her lip.

Please Pru, nothing inflammatory. Even you can see how worried she is.

Pru sipped her coffee.

It was a bit of a gamble, but Honour has been making quite a bit of progress. She had quite a good grasp on her situation and nothing had gone seriously amok in months. However, her schooling had to be taken into account. Or lack there of.

"Am I to believe that you have nothing to say about this matter, Prudence? I must say that I am surprised."

Mathilda stared up at her niece.

The bloody girl always had volumes to say about everything and now that it's so important...she sips her effing COFFEE?

Mathilda made a furious little sound.

"Well, if we don't want her to be a total ignoramus...I suppose that Hogwarts is not the worst option," Pru said slowly.

Mathilda's mouth snapped shut with a sharp click.

"It is one of the safer places in the Wizarding World and the staff and professors would know what to do if...er...anything should get a bit out of hand. I mean, Dad wouldn't just make a decision like this without...er...consulting anyone," the coffee sipper said quickly.

Pru looked at her aunt. She was not entirely sure that Mattie was wrong about Dad making this decision a snap one.

Grace felt impelled to chime in, even though she knew that it might not be the best moment to do so.

"Aunt Mathilda," she began beseechingly," Dumbledore has been sending letters every summer since she turned eleven."

"That is not... the EFFING POINT, GRACE," Mathilda answered waspishly.

"DON'T HAVE ANOTHER GO AT GRACE. I THINK THAT SHE HAS DONE HER DUTY BY YOUR FOUL TEMPER MORE THAN ENOUGH!" Pru roared at her aunt.

Enough was enough. Pru had little patience for her aunt's tendency to take out her anger on the family members that she deemed less likely to shout back

Grace flinched as Pru shot past her.

Mathilda was a tall woman, but Pru was even taller and not the least bit ashamed to use her imposing form to intimidate anyone, including her aunt.

Grace sighed and marched to the small place in between the two formidable witches. She placed a gentling hand on each of them.

This was all she needed: Pru in a temper and Mathilda in high dungeon.

She felt a headache coming on. Grace gently pushed them apart. There was no real danger of either witch getting physical with each other, but there was no good reason for this kind of stand off either.

Mathilda shot her niece a look of icy disdain.

Pru pressed against Grace's small hand.

Why do you always take her side, even when she is being a real shit to you?

I do not! This is just not a good moment. You know better.

Mathilda took in the silent exchange.

The air in the kitchen reverberated with unspent anger.

The sheer frustration that she felt at the moment got the better of Mathilda.

Why am I the only one who thinks this a really, really awful idea?

Her foot kicked one of the pans still lying on the floor and it made a discordant clattering sound.

"Good Morrow, everyone."

A floaty voice sounded from the doorway.

The three witches turned to look at Serenity. The small, black-haired witch was looking at them with her usual dreamily detached expression.

"Er...Morning, Ren?" Pru said as she stared in amazed wonder as her sister drifted into the kitchen, picked her way absent-mindedly around the clutter and proceeded to make herself some tea.

Ren moved through the kitchen as though nothing was at all out of the ordinary.

"There is some food out on the table, but if you want toast, you'd best make some more. It might be a bit stale by now," Grace said to the newly arrived Blackwell in a disconnected voice.

"Ta, Gracie," a chime-like voice said from near the kitchen window.

Mathilda just stared at her small niece. There had very nearly been a family brawl in the kitchen. The room certainly looked as though there had been a brawl and Ren had apparently neither heard nor noticed anything amiss.

Mathilda gave a snort of derision.

Pru shot her aunt a look a bewildered agreement.

It was a good thing that Max had not given Serenity her Order summons. That girl literally inhabited her own universe.

This was all the proof that Mattie needed to reinforce her opinion that her younger nieces were entirely unsuitable for any sort of Order activity. This brought her back to the reason for her ill temper.

She looked at Pru and Grace.

"Hogwarts. HOGWARTS?" she shouted with the last vestiges of her rage," That idiot is sending Honour to HOGWARTS?"

Any further arguments between the senior Blackwells were cut short by an extremely loud squeal of excitement coming from the breakfast area.

It was followed by a horrified yelp of surprise.

"NO! SHE can't-"

There was a sound of a chair being knocked over and another squeal of utterly happy hysteria.

"You heard that, Eddie! I'm going to Hogwarts. I'm going to school. I wonder what house I'll-"

"He would have to be completely deaf not to have heard her, you blithering idiot!"

Glory's howl of outrage drowned everything in the kitchen out. Even Ren turned at the horrible sound.

OOPS!!!

Pru looked at her aunt with a half apologetic smirk.

Mathilda groaned out loud.

In her ill-timed temper, she had completely forgotten about the young ones on the other side of the breakfast bar.

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT! Oh, everlasting SHIT!!!

She threw her hands up in irritation, mostly with herself now, and swept out of the room. She was in no mood to contend with her excitable fourteen-year-old niece. It was better that she leave than rain all over Honour's happy parade.

Not the girl's fault, after all.

Mathilda grumbled to herself as she climbed the stairs to change her robes.

She can't help any of this mess anyways.

The sounds of Honour's sheer delight mingled with the sounds of, what she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, was Glory's very vocal dismay followed her up the stairs.

Mathilda just couldn't find the energy to care.

Let one of the people who were responsible for this morning's upheaval deal with it.

Her patience with her family was completely spent for the day.

*

Grace looked at the scene unfolding before her. Her head had ceased threatening to hurt and begun throbbing in earnest. It was going to take a very long time to sort this new mess out. She sighed loudly and wearily and reached into her dressing gown for her wand. She would start with the kitchen; at least it wouldn't have any opinions, feelings or revelations for Grace to deal with.

The noise behind her got to be too much.

If this was what the start of the day held for her, she imagined that she could look forward to nothing better in the long hours that stretched before her until she could retire for the night.

Oh that. IS. IT!

Grace spun around and cast a spell that she had been dreaming of for years now.

"SILENCIO TOTALIS!"