We're all Rookwoods here.

“My father used to do warm, spiced Ogden’s when I was younger.”

“Did he, now?”

“Yeah, he said it was a family recipe.”

“Is that so?”

“Funny that."

Pictures hung on the wallpapered four walls of a home told a hundred different tales. There were ones of Aiden and Bridget when they were younger, with flushed cheeks and acne peppered here and there across their faces. There were ones of Keiran toddling around on unsteady legs and then later during his Hogwarts years, a wicked smile on his lips, full of pride in regard to his house. Then more recent ones, of Christmases just past and pictures of Millie and Keiran followed by a few scan pictures of the babies. There were even some, bizarrely enough, of Millie and Elliot during their Hogwarts years, when they too bore the marks of adolescence and odd braces and frizzy hair. Framed and suspended was one of them as toddlers in their father’s arms – Theodore supposed it was Seamus. There could be no one else. It seemed as if the Finnigan twins had truly made their mark on the Hayes. Certainly, they’d become a part of the family. Theodore could well imagine the wall looked poorer before the introduction of the newer pictures.

“I don’t know anyone outside of my family who does it like that.”

“I expect it’s quite a common thing in Sligo, dear.”

“How do you know … no. No, it’s not. It’s a Rookwood thing. You’re a Rookwood.”

Stolen from his thoughts by the sound of his own name, Theodore turned to find the summery form of Melissa stood before him. Truly swollen and glowing with pregnancy, she had never looked prettier in his opinion. Her hair had gotten long and turned a glossy gold in the Irish sunshine. Daisies had been weaved into the fishtail plait and little chains and bracelets were around her wrists and neck. She wore a pale blue maxi dress and a light cardigan was added to keep her arms warm – though that didn’t stop her from rolling the arms up to her elbows. On her feet were a pair of sandals, heels long forgotten now, and her cheeks had a scorch of sunshine cutting across them, as though she had just come in from the patio. She looked happy. Not to mention healthy. Summer suited her well, he decided then.

“Good morning, Mel.” Theodore greeted her, embracing her as well as he could with the twins between them. He separated himself from her after pressing a kiss into her hair. He took a moment to drum his fingers over her stomach as he’d come to do with Hallie and, to his delight, there was a little niggle in return just as with his wife. He looked at Millie brightly before taking up her hand and inquiring as to what it was she planned on getting up to that morning. She grinned back at him and gestured to the French doors thrown open onto the patio and from his vantage point, Theodore could spy paints and a piece of canvas on the table out there.

“The apple trees are in fruit,” she embellished. “I want to get it right while the light is still good and natural. What are you here for or is it top secret business?” Millie arched an eyebrow and Theodore looked away, colour rising in his cheeks a little.

“It’s never top secret business, Mel,” he promised, lying through his teeth. “Tell me, when are these two due?”

“Not soon enough,” Millie laughed, bringing her hands around her middle in acceptance of Theodore’s change of topic. She could sense his deception but she was willing to let it go for the moment. “I feel like a beached whale.”

“Obviously the prettiest beached whale going,” Theodore scoffed playfully. “Is the husband about?”

“So it is top secret business,” Millie clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Theodore parted his lips to offer an excuse in the negative but she held up her hand, waving him away in the direction of the lab where Keiran liked to go and think on occasion. She knew better than to bother him there – though knowing better didn’t often stop her.

“You’ll find him no doubt mid-existential identity crisis,” Millie aired sarcastically. “There’s a jug of pink lemonade in the kitchen. Take him a glass, would you? Help yourself.”

“I’m related to you, aren’t I? How?”

“Blood, generally.”

“Whose blood? My grandfather’s?”

“My father’s.”

The study was, indeed, exactly where Millie had promised Theodore would find Keiran. After treading through the lab he found the room and, upon closer inspection, Keiran himself within the study. With two glasses of pink lemonade in hand, Theodore stepped into the room and set one down on the desk. He stepped back thereafter and brought his to his lips, a smirk curling up the sides. Once he had swallowed he set the glass down and dropped himself into one of the arm chairs by the extinguished hearth.

“Time to talk I think, cousin.” Theodore informed Keiran with a pleasant smile, settling his hands in his lap. “After all said and done, we’re still family – and think yourself lucky. At least your father didn’t try and have your wife killed, hm? So, let’s be gentlemen and talk about this like adults.”

Keiran hadn’t been having a good go of it lately, with the school and with his mum having sat him down after their meeting. She’d spoken to Theodore, apparently, which Keiran hadn’t at all expected. Ever. His mum shouldn’t have ever conversed with the Rookwoods, regardless of their changing habits and natures. Keiran didn’t want her involved, considering she was naught but a Muggle Author – not that he was downplaying her in any sense. More that she couldn’t quite handle herself if things got messy and wands were drawn. He wanted to keep her away from any angry Ministry ambassadors coming to knock down their door. She wouldn’t have a way of defending herself, he had known.

Except, he clearly was the unwitting one in his family, perhaps even more so than his wife. Millie had seemed to catch something in Bridget’s airs that suggested magical ability, though Keiran had laughed it off as though the girl were joking. Hayes men joked, sure, but the women generally didn’t, unfortunately. Though, admittedly, she wasn’t a Hayes. Nor was his wife a Rookwood for that matter. Well, except by marriage, if Keiran were to believe everything he had been told.

The door to the study opened, revealing the last person Keiran thought he could handle at the moment. He really couldn’t handle another person trying to talk to him about family, and how he should be grateful to hear about his large family and the brother he should have had in his life. How could someone be happy about all of that? Keiran didn’t want a massive, insane family or to have to look back through the years and remember the Hufflepuff that everyone said he looked so like. He refused to even consider it properly. Nothing struck him as particularly obvious by way of proof, but then, his mother had never lied to him-

That was complete rubbish. Of course she had.

Bridget had lied to him for as long as he could remember. Her name wasn’t even Bridget. He felt like the entire world had turned on its head and the only thing that remained normal was Millie. Nothing else made sense.

Theodore’s sass should have amused him, Keiran thought absently as he stared at the glass set in front of him. Most times he could brush off jokes easily. It only grated on his nerves, instead, a disapproving frown crossing his features as he leaned back from the desk. He really shouldn’t have chosen his father’s desk, where Millie had found him before, to settle down and dig through family records. It wasn’t the wisest decision, considering the last time he had sat there to think.

“Look, mate. I’m not going to pretend to be okay with any of this. I could’ve gone without knowing. It hasn’t quite settled yet, though, so if you need to… chat or something, I’d suggest you get it done before I shove you out the door and lock it.”

Not the most friendly, admittedly, but Keiran couldn’t quite deal with any more family lectures or history lessons or ‘friendly chats’ with his family tree. That would just lead to more anger and confusion. He understood her reasoning behind what she did. Honestly. Without her choices, Keiran wouldn’t have even been. But she could have at least hinted at it. Let him figure it out over the years, instead of claiming to be something she wasn’t and letting him believe it fully for nearly twenty-seven years. It was the confusion that was making him angry. The only one who had managed to settle him was Millie, distracting him with thoughts of the school or the twins. At the same time, did Keiran want to consider the fact that he was adding to the extensive Rookwood family tree? Not hardly.

Understandably, the Hayes man was less than enamoured with the idea of also being a Rookwood. It had arrived at an inopportune time. In hindsight, there was some regret dwelling within Theodore. It almost felt too soon. In light of the death of the man’s father, Theodore supposed that the worst thing was to have discovered that there was a part of his mother that he did not understand. In some ways it could be said that just as Keiran had lost his father, so too had he lost his mother whose identity was now more of a mystery than it had ever been. Tradition ran through the Rookwood family like blood. He did blame himself but he couldn’t help it. The fact that she could have known something, could have been someone, was far too interesting for Theodore and he’d spoken without thinking, backed Bridget into a corner in an unwitting fashion. It was certainly fair that Keiran was upset. Wryly, Theodore thought to himself that there could have never been a better time than this for the man to enter their family. The marriage of Pureblood to Half-Blood was nearly normalised – at least in the eyes of their patriarch – and Keiran was settled, married with children on the way. Had he been anything other than that then the fondness with which the whispered rumoured he would be received would not have been nearly as warm.

The situation in Sligo was very different to the one in Galway. Whilst in Galway it seemed as though the whole family had fallen apart, in Sligo all was calm and the majority of the Rookwoods were none the wiser. The only one who had been affected by Theodore’s news was the patriarch: Raghnall; who had been the only one Theodore had told. His grandfather, Keiran’s too now it seemed, was the only one out of them all that he trusted barring his mother. His mother had no sway in the situation, though. Telling his mother was like talking to a tombstone. Theodore felt, perhaps wrongly, that Raghnall had changed. There was change in them all, he believed, and he wanted some good put back into his family. He had selfish reasons, this he knew, but he didn’t know anyone better than Keiran and Millie and, now of course, Bridget. There was nothing truly Slytherin about Keiran barring a few off-shooting traits; he was a good person. They were both good people. He felt they all needed a good dosage of humility and genuine goodness. Where this desire had sprung from, however, Theodore had no clue. Perhaps he’d gotten weary, less eager for the fight – or perhaps he’d grown up.

Clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Theodore nodded and lowered his eyes to the sparkling drink in his hand. He didn’t like pink lemonade, he realised with a small start. It made him think of The Sound of Music and while Theodore certainly was a very charming sponge, he was loathe to act in character. He wanted be a bridge of some sort. Certainly, playing in this pond was a lot easier than treading water in the ocean that was his marriage. It was something that his brooding cousin understood better than him. Although, that said, Theodore would have wagered it was a lot easier playing up to what Melissa Finnigan wanted than what Hallie Cooper wanted. Hallie Cooper came with baggage and a mother. At least Melissa arrived with baggage but a mother she wanted to firmly shut out, not to mention the baggage out there with her. Regardless, he needed to be a part of something a little bit bigger than himself and not the Death Eaters … perhaps that was something Keiran was concerned about.

“I don’t think I’m the one that needs to chat, eh cousin?” Theodore smirked, leaning forward to put his glass down on the desk. “I’m not the one cooped up in here, am I?”

Theodore sat back against the chair and let his arms fall onto the rests, his hands dangling uselessly off of the end. He crossed his ankles and looked at Keiran carefully, his gaze gentle rather than pursuing. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to explain. Keiran had been unwillingly run through all of the tree. All of the people. All of his family members. Cousins. Uncles. Aunts. Distant relatives here, there and everywhere. Business partners. The dead. The living. There was no one left to talk about. So it was down to the what, or rather, the matter of what it all meant.

“It doesn’t make you any less your father’s son, you know,” Theodore inclined his head a little to the left, his face ghosting over with concern. “Rookwood blood has always been in you. The traits are probably all already there. But you were brought up a Hayes, of course. There’s a lot more of that in you than Rookwood. Just… in case you’re worried.” Theodore lips curled down a little bit at the sides and he lifted one leg over the other as his fingers drummed out a mindless tune. “I mean, just look at you,” he continued, throwing out an arm. “Not a blemish on your sparkling record to be found. Transfiguration Professor, albeit slightly rebel in your methods but we all have to have a fight against the system at least once in our lives. Pretty wife. A father-to-be. I’d say you’ve done rather well for yourself – part Rookwood or not.”

Although he didn’t think his little assurance worked much, Theodore felt a little better for it and hoped that he’d soothed at least one of the concerns that he was suspecting Keiran harboured. It was hard not to harbour fear whilst being a part of the Rookwood family. That very fear was the reason why Theodore was rather glad the only one who knew was Raghnall. At least the old man would be rational. Thaddeus wouldn’t be so forthcoming and helpful.

“You have no desire to meet anyone properly then, I take it?” Theodore asked softly. “If it helps,” he added, hoping to lighten the mood, “Melissa really is only a Finnigan. I say ‘only’, there’s Brown in her too which means, well, wolfish things if you did your studies properly in dear old Hogwarts. And you did, of course.” Theodore smirked. “But, I digress. I do know someone who is certainly dying to meet you. Do you expect me to tell dear old granddad that you won’t let him come and visit for tea?”

“My being in here is entirely by choice, not necessity, cousin.” Keiran remarked, knowing full well that his sarcasm and sass was probably not appreciated by the Rookwood smirking at him.

Theodore’s next words did nothing to calm the Slytherin as he shot an annoyed look across to the arm chair. Rookwood blood has always been in you. So it had, Keiran mused silently, reluctantly drinking from the glass which had been presented to him. Undoubtedly, Millie had made his cousin bring the drink. She knew by now that he would sooner go for water than anything pink, but it almost seemed like a reminder that the blonde was downstairs. He couldn’t get away with much while she was around. Regardless of the pregnancy, his wife could scare anyone into doing what she wanted – especially Keiran. Threats from her were taking maddeningly seriously.

I mean, just look at you. Keiran started suddenly, blinking at Theodore in surprise. “Mate… Those are hardly things that make up a good person. It’s not the best way to word it, I know, but I almost want to blame my issues on the Rookwood side of me. Like it could explain away my issues. But it can’t. So don’t make me out to be someone I’m not. Just ask Millie; she knows.”

If anyone knew his true nature, it was his wife. After his father was killed, when she found out how he really acted and changed. His mum didn’t even know, really. Not entirely, regardless of her knowing parts of him. Bridget had finally presented all of herself to him; maybe it was becoming time for him to do the same.

“I doubt he is actually interested in meeting me, considering mum. I can’t see that going well.” Keiran lifted a hand to his chin, running a finger over his lower lip as he got a little lost in wondering after how an encounter with his mum’s side of the family would go. “I would sooner let him extend an invitation than offer one. No offense to… Grandfather, but it is easier to abandon ship than to force someone out.”

“Yes,” Theodore responded sardonically as he folded his hands together in his lap. “I think that I would be hiding in my late father’s study, too, instead of sitting out in the sunshine enjoying my wife. Yes, that’s it. Good call there with your Byronic exile. It’s all wonderfully Brontë of you. See, now, if this really was me in my current familial scenario then I would say that if I was so blessed with the gruesome death of my father then first of all, after incinerating the bastard to make sure he really was dead because you can’t be sure about these things, can you? Well, I’d throw a party,” Theodore lifted his hands to count off on one with the other his actions, “then I’d murder my brother, during the part of course, and after that I’d move to Spain, get my wife fat and lovely and raise a dozen children. But no, no,” he smirked, dropping his hands to the arm rests, “I do see that you’re right. Hiding from one’s missus and, by extension, one’s family in order to avoid one’s extended family all because mummy lied to protect you from, well, the extended family – it makes complete and utter sense. Yes, no, that’s very honourable of you. Mmm. Good form.”

Theodore brought a finger up to the back of his neck and scratched behind his ear, a little force of habit, twitch if you like, that occurred when he knew within himself that he was pushing buttons. Such insolence had cost him a few spare fingers before. He’d never been particularly forthright with exactly what had happened that day. Thaddeus had been so willing to let his son suffer anyway, why not, and regardless. He was going to let Theodore go through Hogwarts deformed. However, Theodore had always pressed a few too many buttons when it came to his father. In truth, he was rather lucky that it wasn’t his head that got blasted off and it was just his fingers instead. Theodore brought his back down to the arm rest and he smiled a little, albeit it manifested itself as more of a grimace, before flexing his fingers, as though he was the picture of nonchalance – but he did take note of the way the nerves strained as they always had done, trying to lift something that wasn’t there.

“No,” Theodore shook his head. “What makes you good is your inability, first of all to see it, and then secondly it’s that canny little ability that you and your mother have to love. It’s not something we can all profess to covet though we all do endeavour to mimic the feelings.” Theodore cleared his throat awkwardly, averting his gaze before adding: “you’ve got luck, if nothing else.”

Exhaling deeply, Theodore nodded briefly before rubbing his hand over his face. He’d had a feeling that trying to get Keiran to go and see their grandfather would be like trying to get a bus under a low bridge – you could damn well try. The thing which struck him dumb was the fact that Keiran doubted that Raghnall would want to see him.

“You don’t want to go to the manor,” Theodore’s lips moved for him and he looked about himself cautiously as the hairs on his neck stood to attention. “It’s not where anyone should go… let alone be brought up. I, uh,” Theodore took a moment to smile wryly. “Have you thanked your mum, yet, by the way? Like, not only are you alive because of what she did but you avoided, well, this, I suppose.” Theodore gestured to himself. “Nevertheless, he will come here eventually because I wouldn’t condone you going to him. I think even he wouldn’t condone it. So, uh, I suggest you find yourself a nice bottle of whisky and keep it special-like. He’s not annoyed. He’s quite probably more irate with your mum because she went and had a grandson he didn’t get to know about. That’d be the big thing, I reckon. Plus, everyone wants to meet their grandkid and nearly great grandkids don’t they?”

Keiran’s frown turned immediately into a scowl at Theodore’s words. It wasn’t the sarcasm that made him angry, nor was it the fact that the man was right that his hiding away was a poor choice. It was what Keiran always seemed to do, though, so he couldn’t claim that the other man was wrong. No, it was the fact that Theodore did not understand, at all, what had just happened to the Hayes family. The death of his father was not something any man should be happy about, regardless of his being busy or often not around as Aiden had been. It was by sheer luck that Keiran didn’t break the glass and cover the table with hideously pink drink as he slammed it down. It was also rather amazing that he managed to wait until the younger man had finished.

“Listen, kid. There are some things you learn when you live in a family that isn’t entirely made up of people who need a mental check. One of those being that you should not insult the memory of someone’s father unless you are aiming to make that someone an enemy. Do endeavor to watch your words in front of me.”

He couldn’t help the disdain and sheer dislike (if not hatred) for the man sitting in his father’s library. What would Millie to if he told Theodore to leave? Keiran doubted the man would shoo, even if the place was partly his as well as his mum’s. Bridget would’ve been furious if she had heard.

Would she, though? Surely she understood the idea of turning her back on her father. Keiran shook away the realization mentally, instead lifting a brow at Theodore’s next words. It seemed, for a few moments at least, that the younger of the cousins appeared… jealous of the elder. The thought surprised Keiran so much that he couldn’t figure how to reply. It wasn’t until the rest of Theodore’s words sank in that Keiran spoke again.

“I don’t know why you’ve decided to be so involved in my decisions, Rookwood. Aside from the being related bit, which doesn’t strike me as a good enough reason, all things considered. Is there something you want? If not, leave me to wait for Grandfather as you say I should. I don’t see reason for you to sit around insulting my family in our house.”

Theodore grinned.

“Gramps, forgive me, I’ve made a blunder,” he exclaimed, rising to his feet. “I merely meant to point out that holing yourself up in here is stupid. Stupid it is, stupid it remains. To insult you was not my intention. I was merely making you privy to my murderous intentions and my plans to do thereafter. Needless to say, I do not envy your situation. I expect standing around wishing your father dead is a lot easier than having loved and lost him. I’m not insulting you. I’m just… pontificating.”

Sighing, Theodore shrugged off his blazer jacket and tossed it onto the chair. His fingers dislodged the cufflink out of his right shirt cuff and he tossed it onto the table before dragging up the sleeve to his elbow. Emblazoned on his arm in ebony pigment was the swirling, brooding Dark Mark, as clear as it had been the day it had been imprinted in his skin. Theodore’s eyes tore off of the mark long enough to glance at Keiran and he raised his eyebrows, moving his head to the side briefly as if to illustrate ‘I told you so’ without words.

“This is why.” He swallowed and his tongue lapped out to wet his lips briefly. Theodore dropped his arms and sighed heavily before reaching up to rub at his face. “This is why. Alright? Because this family does need a bloody mental check, alright? I am not influencing you I am trying to help you because I did a stupid thing, alright? I did. I’ll admit it. It did a stupid sodding thing but I am trying my hardest to get you ready for what is going to come and get you and that is this family. This… thing… this mark… it’s what happens to us. It’s what happens to the second sons. The expendable ones. The ones that have everything to prove.”

Theodore grabbed at his eyes, rubbing them furiously before pulling down his shirt sleeve, cocking a furious eyebrow at Keiran as he did so.

“I’m trying to empower you in a roundabout sort of way. Our grandfather is not the one who is going to be the problem, though. It’s … it’s everyone else so… yeah, I might be pressing your buttons but I’m not going to bloody exploit you, Hayes, alright? I’m involved because you are one of the ones stupid enough to get caught. That’s no disrespect to you but you will. Alright? Okay? You’ll get pulled in and they’ll screw you over. You need to get wise to this family because whether you like it or not you’re in it now and you need to start playing chess like the rest of us. So, excuse me if I’m trying to do you a favour. It’s not obvious but… there it is.”

“Gramps?” Keiran scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Hardly. Just ask Millie; she’ll set you right.”

Although a smirk lit his face, the amusement was missing from his eyes. He couldn’t find it in him to actually find any entertainment in their conversation, though if it were one he’d had with Robin, it would have been massively fun. As much as he expected Millie wished he would interact properly, Keiran just found himself wishing that the conversation would end. It was all happening and being discussed so quickly that he wasn’t sure exactly how to handle it. Worse, still, Millie was having to deal with all of it while pregnant. That was hardly fair. Perhaps, then, he should have been acting more maturely.

He looked up again as Theodore moved, brow creasing with confusion as the man pushed back his sleeve. A cold streak of surprise washed over him, even as he was considering whether or not he should have really been taken aback. Keiran did his best to listen without judgment, but it wasn’t until the man’s sleeve had been returned to normal that he managed to swallow and nod.

“So you think they can – I don’t know, talk me into getting the mark? Into joining that side? I hope you’re kidding, because that’s highly unlikely. Massively unlikely, really.”

Deciding that he didn’t like playing defense, he instead leaned back in his chair, doing his best to appear as relaxed and unfazed as possible. “Millie would probably have my head for that. I can’t believe that your auror wife would handle the family well, either. Then again, she’s got the Gryffindor courage, hasn’t she? She’s probably far ahead of us in regards to dealing with all of that.”

Sighing, Keiran sat forward, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. “If Grandfather comes, then so be it. We’ll deal with that when we have to. Just don’t expect me or my children to be involved in your ridiculous Pureblood activities, and don’t hope for us to agree with your mentality. Even without knowing what I do about myself now, I always thought it was stupid. I lied my entire life since starting Hogwarts, because of people like you and the rest of the Rookwoods. You can’t expect me to be glad you’ve found me.”

“Your wife has a penchant for older men,” Theodore dismissed Keiran’s words with a smirk. “Believe me. We’re all well aware of that.”

Theodore had to remind himself that his task was to warn and prepare Keiran, not to provoke and wind him up. He knitted his lips together, finding a moment to regret the words he’d uttered but he knew he had to press on regardless. He needed to make Keiran understand. He needed to shake the arrogance from the man who was, whether either of them wanted to admit it and acknowledge it or not, still a Rookwood. It was being brought out in him, Theodore could see it. Those traits would make or break him, regardless of whether he’d grown up with them or not. For all intents and purposes, Keiran had almost come into his inheritance, family wise. He needed to learn how to juggle that, regardless of whether or not he felt he knew best. Age wasn’t important in the House of Rookwood – experience and regard was.

“Massively unlikely, is it?” Theodore drawled, arching a doubtful eyebrow at his cousin. “It’s Millie’s head you’d join up for you idiot,” Theodore then hissed, slamming his hands down on the desk with a booming slap.

“She’s your Achilles heel, are you listening to me? She is your weakness. Those children are your weakness, just like my wife and my child is and will be mine. My wife should never have had to deal with my family but she did, alright? I wasn’t joking when I said about your father not wanting your wife dead. I’ve got a queer sense of humour but my sire paid a man, a Death Eater to murder Hallie. He tortured her. He was going to kill her. He was on my father’s payroll. I joined up because I wanted my revenge. I wanted to make that bastard suffer, knowing that I was always there… that I could pick the time to finish him. But the firm won in the end, I joined up. And it’s that woman downstairs they’ll use to get you, too. They’ll put her head on the block until you submit so you need to bloody well wise up and think Keiran.”

Theodore pushed himself away from the desk and straightened up, reaching to run his fingers through his hair. He could feel his heart thrumming against his chest like a flailing, dying animal. He was desperate and he could feel that coursing through his veins with wild abandon. What scared him was that he hadn’t realised he cared. The fact that he did meant that he had an additional concern, another avenue that would prematurely see his hair grey. He worried about Hallie. He worried about his child. He worried about Athena. He worried about her children. He worried after his sisters. Now? Now he’d worry about Millie and he’d worry about Keiran, too.

“This isn’t as simple as you verses us. You don’t have the moral high ground. It’s not Hayes verses Rookwood or good and bad or good and Rookwoods. It’s Rookwoods verses Rookwoods and whether you like it or not, that’s the way it is. You are one. Your mother is one. Your wife is one, too, and your precious children will scheme and be as Slytherin as the rest of us. You need to start acting like one and you might just save your family because you, like me, have a lot to lose and unless you play the game you will suffer for it. Don’t be so arrogant as to think you are exempt simply because you’ve not had anything to do with this family for twenty-six years of your life. That doesn’t make you wiser. That makes you fair, ignorant, impressionable game.”

Theodore sat himself down again and fiercely pulled down his sleeve. He buttoned up the cuff and leaned forward, grabbing up his cufflink and fixed it back in place. He looked up, out from under his lashes at Keiran and sighed heavily, dropping his hands to his knees.

“If you had to lie to sleep at night in the dungeons then you put more stock in it then you know,” Theodore replied breathily, trying to calm himself down. “Raghnall will come and when he does, you had better be pleasant. I trust your parents have told you a little about the Wizarding Wars … and about Madame Lestrange. Our grandfather has a similar predisposition to choose the Cruciatus over all other spells when he draws his wand.” Theodore thanked his lucky stars that he’d only experienced that particular curse a few times, though never by the wand of his grandfather. He doubted Keiran would see it, either, unless it was directed at another errant family member.

“You’re a clever bloke. Just…use your head, alright? You’re in this family now. You’re automatically subscribed to the way the firm thinks. You’ve just got to be able to use your resources and outsmart them. Just, please… spare me the grey hair and the high blood pressure and do yourself some favours. Otherwise, when our grandfather comes knocking you’ll look at him like an enemy and then you’ll suffer for it. If you want to learn how to play the game, I want to teach you. But this is about more than being family, it’s protecting what’s dear to you, too.”

A dark scowl clouded the man’s face, the jab at his wife making him bristle. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard about some of Millie’s past. That didn’t mean that he innately accepted any snide comments regarding her nature, though. “This wasn’t up to her.” He ground out, jaw set. At least, not at first.

Keiran wasn’t complaining about their situation. He loved her, that much was obvious. Luckily, she seemed pretty stuck on him, too, and the recognition of that fact made him calm, if only minimally. His glare seemed near-permanent at that point, though it softened slightly with the shock of fear that lit his spine at the notion that someone could take away the person he needed to cling to so tightly. His family wasn’t Keiran’s only weakness – the Slytherin had many, and certainly knew it. Millie had almost certainly caught on to those by now, too. He was half waiting for the day when she decided to have at him for them and leave. The part of him that accepted his cowardice wondered after who he would become once they were gone.

“What do you want me to say, then? That I’ll go head off and enlist today? Not a chance. Just as I won’t let anyone get to her, I won’t put her through my walking through the door and pulling back my sleeve to show her that I gave in.” Keiran shook his head, a hand raking through his hair in an attempt to use up his desire to fidget or pace. It didn’t help. He pushed the chair away with a frustrated huff before moving across the study over and over. Millie might have been able to hear, but he expected himself to rush straight down to her once Theodore left and explain, anyway.

“I’m no Gryffindor, Theo,” Keiran reminded him, not even registering his casual way of addressing his cousin. “I’m- I’m almost always this coward when it comes to these things. But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to wait for someone to try to manipulate me. If this meeting is any example, I’m pretty resistant to it. This may not be a you lot versus my lot thing right now, but the minute they bring my family into this, it will be. There will be no ignoring that.”

Keiran almost had to stop and think about what he had said. He wasn’t entirely sure he had ever referred to Millie and the twins as his ‘family’ to anyone before. Maybe to Robin or Avery, but mostly when he was telling them that they should have big family dinners once the children came. But that was hardly the same thing as declaring to Theodore that he was set on the blonde ambling around downstairs. Granted, that was probably pretty obvious, either way. But while Millie had to have figured out his position on things regarding her and the twins. In a matter of minutes with Theodore, he had given the man definite proof of a determination to prove himself and protect those he loved.

“So, you’re saying I need to act pleased with him until he leaves? I can do that. But the minute he’s gone you can bet I’ll be focusing on keeping Millie safe. She can bloody well just get dragged to the school if she has to.” Passing a hand over his face, Keiran sank back into his chair, letting himself show just how tired he felt after everything. “Look, I don’t know how Pureblood families work from the inside,” He admitted reluctantly. “So if you’ve got any suggestions or comments to make, I’ll try and keep an open mind.”

Tilting his head to look at Theodore properly, Keiran let his elbow rest on the top of his desk so he could support his head with his palm. He regarded the younger man for a few moments, trying to register what had made him decide to come by and try to explain things to his cousin. Perhaps Theodore simply got on with Millie and wanted to scare Keiran into protecting her. If so, it had worked. The only thing that gave him pause was the fact that his cousin seemed so very set on Keiran paying attention and getting his head on straight.

“I get that you’re trying to protect Melissa,” he started warily, “but I don’t know why you feel a need to protect me, too.”