Forsaken Karma

He hadn’t won, but that was beside the point. He didn’t know what that look meant and now he was royally fucked as he looked at Eve and her won date. 

He wasn’t exactly jealous, although he could admit that he did wish that he had won in someways that wasn’t what was keeping him glancing over. Ash wasn’t under any impression that Eve liked him, or wanted to spend time with him even so he wouldn’t have minded much if she looked interested in the other. 

The problem was although he didn’t understand the look she’d given him earlier, he understood the look that she was giving. At least he was pretty sure she was looking around because she wanted someone to come get her out of the situation. That was going to be hard for him now, seeing as he had tipped a hand he wasn’t sure he should have. After all it wouldn’t be read as or wholly altruism if he went over there now. 

After another subtle glance around he sighed slightly. After all, it was only his pride that she’d damage if he turned out to be wrong and he already had so little of it left. So he ran his fingers through his hair to make it more wild and took on a professional but anxious demeanor as he approached the table. 

“Hello - Oh I’m terribly sorry but I am with the WNN and was asked to take photos for the Daily Prophet for all the participants in the auction. Unfortunately we were running late and I never got your lovely date here. Without a picture of Ms. Abbott after all, my boss will have my head!  Would either of you mind terribly if I get the photo I needed? It’ll only take a few moments I really do apologize for the intrusion.”  He looked at Eve subtly trying to see if she would take it while giving the date an apologetic look he didn’t feel. He’d lied about it because he was sure they had taken her photo, and if she wanted to come back she could. She could also already say that she had her photo taken and he could ‘breathe a sigh of relief’ and count that as an answer to his question.

Ash didn’t usually cover sports. It wasn’t his thing really, not that he didn’t find sports fun to watch it just wasn’t the part of journalism that intrigued him. Very rarely was there political or social intrigue, or at least the types that Ash wanted to know about. In away when he picked his own assignments he did so selfishly. He wanted to be in rooms where decisions were made, and that was very rarely arenas. 

Still, Ash very often answered the demand for ‘jump’ with ‘how high’ and not complaints. Building good will very often meant doing the reports other people didn’t have the time or the inclination to do. 

So he was the one that went into the second day of the quidditch match. It had been going on for so long that they had to switch out reporters and now it was dusk and was going to get dark soon. He’d be there just to say what was happening ocassionally and if there was anything extraordinary but he didn’t really picture that happening now. In any case Ash was used to being up late now for the show so it didn’t bother him much and he was sure his co-host was very happy at the moment to have her old set up back. 

So when he got to the booth he figured that he would be alone when he found that wasn’t quite true. Putting his stuff down he figured he should introduce himself at the very least. 

“Hello - Percy. ” Ash said a bit surprised. He really hadn’t had to interact with the sports reporters, so it wasn’t all that likely that he would have connected it.  “How are you? I imagine you’re covering the match too.” 

Mary eyed him up with wariness and suspicion. He wasn’t reacting the way she would have expected him to, given the way her grandma had always avoided talk of the Richardsons. She knew it was a different time and that the family’s exclusion from the Sacred Twenty-Eight might have changed things but she still couldn’t help but view them as the sorts of people who were obsessed with blood status and desperate still to prove their place within those elite names.

“I’m not that surprised you didn’t know,” she said, slowly. People had always acted like she was some impossible freak of nature for stepping into Hogwarts with the surname that she had, despite not being by any means the first. “Actually my aunt and uncle were both wix. It was only my dad who was a squib of her children but they both prefer not to associate with—” She winced, the bitterness towards them too great to continue. She had never even met them and she had no wish to with the way they had rejected her family. “Anyway. My sisters are muggle. It’s… just me.” Of those proud to call themselves a MacDonald, since her grandparents themselves. “You…” She hesitated but she needed to know whether he was just being polite or if he really cared as little as he appeared to. “The impression my grandmother gave me was always that your family probably wouldn’t be that interested in introducing yourselves to me.”

.

Ash was used to those expressions. Most of his life people didn’t trust him, not really. Maybe at times that was warranted as well, but in this case he chalked it up to rumors and family stories rather than anything he had directly done. After all, there wasn’t any contempt there. If her side family had kept up with his side of the family she surely would have some catharsis meeting him.  After all in the end their name wasn’t much better than anyone else’s anymore. 

“I am,” Ash said simply. He was pretty good at family geology and family secrets, but he supposed he never thought to look.  They wouldn’t have accepted him anyway if he was being fair. 

“Huh, my mum must not have known or did and didn’t tell me, either way I am sorry it was rather impolite to not let you know,” He said simply realizing that there was probably more to the story. The flash of pain let him know that there was, but he also realized poking around in family affairs was never pleasant. 

“Well, I suppose in a way we have that in common. I’m the last Richardson - well the last one in England anyway I think a part of the family ran away to America after everything that went down. My Mum was the only one that stayed and none of them kept in touch, ” He said trying to lighten the mood. It was more complicated than that of course, but he doubted the younger would want to know all of that. 

@ashton-richardson​

“Where the fuck are we going,” she protested, hurrying to keep up with him.  Her boots were perfect for kicking ass, but they weren’t as well suited to chasing after her long-legged, very confusing co-host.  “When you said chasing a lead I expected that we were out buying some newspapers.”

She had no idea where they were, but she wasn’t all that concerned.  Ash was skinny and sort of twitchy.  If he decided to pull an Isaac she was fairly sure she could take him – not with her wand, but with her fists.  She had taken down bigger opponents than him in the past.  

“Seriously Ash,” she whined, stopping.  “Can’t we just read up on whatever it is you want to see?  I usually leave the investigating for the, you know, cops.”

.

“Language,” Ash said simply although he did slow down slightly so the shorter could catch up. “First, it’s not a lead if it’s in a newspaper then it’s just plagiarism or parroting. Two we are almost there.” 

He’d been trying to get this informant to talk for awhile, wining and dining them but at the end of the day sometimes you had to show your cards. Normally he would have done it alone - he liked to work alone but in this case he thought having someone there would be better.

That and he had an inclination they might like to talk to her better than himself. 

When she stopped he sighed. “I didn’t realize you were so against actually getting information. Cops are biased at the best of times and purposefully misleading at the worst. You had said you wanted to get information on the recent string of robberies and I think I know a person that might be able to answer a few of those questions - which by the way I’m not convinced the police aren’t in on. We could break the story, - but I won’t keep you here if you don’t want to be here. I just thought you took investigative journalism seriously is all.”

“No. I actually find Christmas terribly boring” Theadora mused, not looking up from her pocket mirror as she reapplied her mirror. She had a break from intervewing for the newest feature for WWN. To be honest it wasn’t that she was a scrooge, she just didn’t really get to spend Christmas with the man she wanted too. And that sucked. But obviously, she couldn’t actually talk about that. So she just was a scrooge instead. “The highlight is always the Rosier christmas ball though. The Rosier’s out did there selves this year”

Ash didn’t really celebrate holidays anymore. Then again, usually you spent them with family, and he didn’t have any. Still, there were bits of memories he would keep with him. Times where he could almost reach a happy memory. A hot chocolate and bells jingling - his mom putting on the same scratched Christmas record and a chocolate frog hopping away from Ana as she tried to chase after it. 

He like Christmas, he just didn’t celebrate it anymore. 

“Hm I’ll take that as you didn’t do anything for the holidays” He said  moving to the audio equipment to check on it. His job had changed, but he was still one of the better people when it came to recording devices. “Really? How was it then?” He said his eyes flickering across the device to make sure the parts were operating correctly.

…

This was very confusing.  It felt like there was subtext on top of subtext that she was missing out on.  But the show started in just an hour and she was feeling woefully unprepared.  There would be time to overanalyze his words and actions later.  “No…” she said slowly.  Was he trying to trick her?  Either way, anyone with sense would see through that weak argument.  And if that was the one he planned on using she knew exactly what to say against it.  “We can keep it, I guess.”

It was time to find a new fucking job – what were the chances she was attacked outside of her place of work, and then she comes back after said attack to find out that her show was being forcibly infiltrated with this level of idiocy.  “Were you a Hufflepuff,” she asked seriously.  “because that sounds like some let’s all come together bull shit, and you don’t look like an idiot – so are you a secret, let’s keep the peace, sort of Hufflepuff?  The WWN is turning into some sort of propaganda machine, like the Prophet.”  

She took the paper from him without thinking and wrinkled her brow.  This didn’t make any sense, but he was definitely a Hufflepuff.  “I mean – let’s just give it a shot tonight, I guess.”

.

Ash really wanted to just walk out of the room and forget the help he was trying to provide. It would been easier than what he was doing now. He had realized the other was stubborn, but he also thought she was clever. 

Maybe he could turn it around when she said they could keep it and he leaned back into his chair folding his arms across his body with a nod. 

At the question he raised his eyebrow slightly as she continued on a rant that he was pretty sure would get them both kicked out of the studio if he wasn’t careful. 

“I mean you seem like a burn down the village to save one person Gryffindor.” Ash retorted rolling his eyes. “Besides I think you forget that we live in a society of sorts. Understanding the argument is key and media literacy is at an all time low. If you have a point, then defend it and don’t just assign it the label of truth because it’s what you believe is true. I don’t defend lies, but you haven’t proven that these are lies. So - if you truly believe in your defense prove it.  Think of it as a court of public opinion and that you want to convince people that you are right, and not just preaching to the choir of people that already think you are. Was that less of a come together Hufflepuff attitude for you? An argument based on “because I said so” isn’t a very strong argument. ” 

At her words he nodded with a sigh and said, “ That’s all I ask.” 

“I suppose…”

Eve looked out over the crowd as Ash spoke. If someone had asked her what the room looked like, what her impression of the party was, she would’ve said disorganized. Sure, some people, like herself, looked put together. She, the Blacks, the Malfoys, the Rosiers, and the likes made the crowd sparkle with oversized, teaming gowns and shining gold and silver accents. But this year, unlike the years before it, there were flaws.

At his suggestion, Eve tried to see what he saw. She tried to see the crowd of people in front of her not as individuals, each with their own worth, but as a whole. She supposed that even with the new additions, it was still quite spectacular. And princes and princesses weren’t the only characters in fairy tales. There were townspeople and paupers too. The stories would be rather dull without them.

Eve smiled at the reassurance. It hadn’t been at the forefront of her mind, but the thought had certainly been hovering in the background. The press was supposed stay true to their word and not write about what was off the record, but Evelyn knew that wasn’t always the case. Gossip columns were rarely made without breaking that rule. However, Evelyn had a feeling he wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was - perhaps the personal declaration - but Ash didn’t seem like the kind.

“I haven’t had a chance to see the gardens yet this year.” She looked at Ash, still smiling from before. “Let’s go.”

Evelyn walked away, heading towards the proper exit. She hadn’t been outside, but assumed that much hadn’t changed from the year prior. A normal, less self-assured person might’ve looked back to see if the other person was following them. Evelyn just assumed Ash was, not turning to face him again until they were outside.

There weren’t many people taking a breather from the ballroom, but regardless, Evelyn didn’t linger by the door. She began to descend down the stone steps, towards the hedges and floral beds that laid below.

“One of the nicest things about being out here in the country is getting to see the stars. You can barely even see them at night in London.”

. 

Ash liked the magic that was in the air, and part of him thought he could see Ana in a few of the figures. How carefree they were, and how much the lights bounced off of them. Still, if he was being honest he was spending more attention focused on Eve than the rest of them. 

Maybe it was because he was interested in what she saw. After all, this had to be a conflict between what she knew and what she shouldn’t like but maybe she could see the beauty there. Or maybe he saw a crowd of people acting foolish. With everything he had tried to figure out about the Witch next to him, he never quiet could figure out where her heart lied. It was a mystery, and one he’d like to solve. 

That was why he was interested watching her face out of the corner of his eyes as it changed looking at the room. He’d like to think that was the only reason, pushing anything else down. 

At her observation he couldn’t help the slight laugh that came out. He hadn’t meant for her to want to go with him, but there was a delight there. Maybe thats why he was so intrigued by her. It wasn’t extraordinarily out of character but it wasn’t something he didn’t expect either. She seemed to be able to keep him on his toes well.   She was surprising but he didn’t miss a beat following after her at an assured pace. 

He was sure she knew that he was following, and when she turned to meet him he was sure of it. 

At her comment he looked up and for a second was also caught by the stars. He realized quite suddenly that he hadn’t looked up in a rather long time but figured that might be a bit personal to tell Eve.

 “They are rather bright out here. I can’t say I get to go to the country at night time very often. Did you take astronomy in school? I can’t say I remember a lot of it but this would be the place to practice. Especially on a nice clear night like tonight.”

She felt embarrassed for being caught listening in and even more so when he said his grandmother was also a Richardson. That was obvious, she supposed, and not something worth noting aloud. It was mundane, actually, particularly with a surname that hardly held much in the way of weight. Mary had always had an image in her mind of the Richardsons being a formidable family but she knew things had changed a lot since her grandmother’s time and perhaps it was simply a matter of perspective. Comparing them to the families of people who had taken issue with her because of her family made them seem pretty formidable.

“Maria,” she told him in a mumble. Teeth buried into her bottom lip as he explained what she already had figured, that it was much less common as a pureblood name and there only was the one family. “My grandmother was Maria and I’m Mary. MacDonald.” Eyes cast to the ceiling, waiting for the recoil or perhaps a hasty end to the conversation. They were in public so at least she didn’t have to worry too much about it being the sorts of reactions she used to get back in school, pushed into abandoned classrooms where nobody was around to hear her begs for mercy. It always made her feel so vulnerable, however, giving her full name like this, even though once upon a time it had just been normal to go by her full name with Mary being as common a name as it was, so that people would inevitably have to clarify which Mary they were talking about.

Ash and Ana had never really met most of their family outside of themselves. It was grudges and feuds that had transpired what felt like decades ago. Also, if he was being truly honest most of that bitterness had been directed at the Greegrass’s than anyone else. The Richardson’s were a family divided but they’d already destroyed themselves as cleanly as they could. Ash wasn’t about to pass on a curse, and he wasn’t really willing to fight people he had no reason to. 

It didn’t mean that he was full of good feelings, he was just tired. Most of his life was dedicated to burdens that a name had given him and he didn’t want to carry any of it anymore. Neither the hostility or the reverence. 

He could see the same pain in the younger witch’s eyes. Maybe she’d grown up with fear about the Richardsons. It wasn’t fully unwarranted, but after all there wasn’t much different between the two of them. Neither of them were good enough for wix society and he wasn’t about to alienate someone because of blood status. 

When the other looked scared he figured out exactly what grandma fairly quickly and nodded. He gave the other a soft smile and an extended hand, moving slowly as if he was going to spook her. 

Alyosha noted the emotionless response and felt a small wave of relief. Not that he was afraid of a bad response or really cared if a stranger he’d just met was afraid of him, but it was nice not to have people recoil in fear from you and make excuses to get away.

His eyebrows crept up as Ash explained the complicated layout of the WWN. It was more of a maze than he’d expected. Not that he was surprised that the outside was deceiving – most magical buildings were but because of that, you could never quite guess what the inside contained. “That seems to be a reasonable concern, then,” he mused. “I do find it fascinating that they’ve managed to make the transmitters or whatever you call it”—he waved his hand—“work when so many other electronics don’t mesh with magic.”

.

Ash in a lot of ways wasn’t afraid of most things. Fear was something you either clung to when you lost the people that mattered the most to you, or it’s something you lost with them. Sure the other could do something, and it would be annoying and perhaps painful, but Ash wasn’t in a position to care much about it. 

So instead he nodded slightly as he walked turning his back to the other to better navigate the halls and lead them correctly. 

“We’re fairly sure no one’s gotten too lost in awhile at least.” Ash said, not quite sure if that was fully accurate. “It is very interesting although I can’t tell you how they work very well. Just that they do. I think it’s something to do with the type of transmitters we use and the wavelengths that we have. Luckily it doesn’t seem like the Muggles have ever caught the wavelengths so that’s at least good.” 

Her relationship with her parents wasn’t anything exceptional.  Her childhood had been one full of adventure.  It had given her a taste of excitement and love for the things that got her pulse racing.  But she had been raised traditionally, with an appreciation for the traditions and customs that made their world what it was.  Her parents could be over the top, hyper-involved, and meddlesome.  But she had always been willing to forgive a lot because she had never quite been able to let go of the knowledge that they had chosen her.  If they hadn’t she never world have made it out of the Louisiana swamps, spending her life getting bitten by mosquitos and stunning alligators.  She was grateful.  But had her good fortune come at the expense of an entire other family?

She nodded, turning over his words in her mind.  It made sense.  She had never really seen them be all that affectionate with each other.  She had long since chalked it up to age, to dwindling attraction (which probably played no small role in her reluctance to get married herself).  But maybe it was more than that.  Maybe they were avoiding something much worse.  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” she muttered.  And an open marriage – the idea of that didn't’ repulse her.  But what did repulse her was the thought that her father might be knowingly passing along his curse, impregnating other women and neglecting to inform them of the risks they were taking by sleeping with him.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, putting a pair of fingers to her temple and rubbing hard against it.  This was – it was a lot.  There had never been any sort of hero worship of her father.  He was her dad.  He paid for her things.  He had given her a surname that made upward mobility in this world a bit easier.  But that was it.  For her whole life he had been perfectly mediocre.  But the jump from mediocrity to – evil?  That was a big jump to manage.  “Me too, apparently.  This is – what the fuck?  What the fuck?”

It took her a long time to answer.  Too long.  But when she was finally ready she took a deep breath.  “Let me –” she paused.  “we… no, probably just me… I need to see what my mom knows without actually telling her anything.  I just – I’m not sure the best way to do that.”

.

“It’s not your fault,” He said softly perhaps believing it for the first time. He’d wondered if she knew, but her reactions told him that she didn’t. She didn’t know what her adopted father was and any pain that he might have thrown to her was extinguished. It was one of the better angels of his nature, well one that he took from Ana at least. 

He flinched slightly at her words getting pulled back to where he was. Cautiously he pushed back his hair slightly and cleared his throat. 

“Yeah - I doubt she would want to hear from me even if she did know about me. I can’t imagine I would be a welcomed sight in her life.” He wasn’t wholly sure it was necessary, but he also thought Harper might want to have that opportunity. He’d been telling the truth in any case. She could look up Ana if she wanted too and didn’t believe him. 

“We should probably go back to the party, but just - Harper be careful. I don’t doubt that he loves you, but he’s not a man that would let anyone ruin him. Don’t let him get to the point he needs to make that decision.”

@ashton-richardson​

She honestly didn’t know how to move forward with the information Ash had dropped on her.  Wedding planning, which had been a chore before, was something easy that she could throw herself into.  It was the easiest way to forget, just for a little while, that a big piece of her life had been a lie.

But she couldn’t pretend forever, and about two weeks after the Halloween ball she had sat down with her mother to figure out what she knew.  She knew she couldn’t out right ask, that if her mother was as disgusting as her father apparently was, asking outright was the last thing she wanted and a good way to put Ash… her– her brother? – in danger.  But as she danced around the truth, the most she could figure out was that her mother had been aware of a series of affairs, but nothing more sinister than that was offered to her and she couldn’t outright ask.

So, another two weeks after that, just before December, she decided it was time to keep this investigation moving forward.  Her parents were out of the country, and if she ordered the elves to stay away they would do it.  If there was ever a time to search her father’s office this was it.  

When the doorbell rang she sent the help to the kitchen to prepare an elaborate meal she was sure she would only eat half of and opened her parent’s door to find Ash on the other side.  “They won’t be back until Tuesday – if we’re going to look for evidence this might be our only chance until after the holidays,” she repeated the words in her letter, pulling him inside.  “the elves are cooking, so they won’t notice a thing.  Let’s go.”

Ash wasn’t truly expecting help from Harper, more so he was hoping that she would at least not tell on him and get out of the way of what he wanted to do. Still, he couldn’t say that it was bad feeling. 

It wasn’t the same as when Ana was here. She wasn’t Ana, even slightly other than maybe her decorum but it was someone he could see as a family member. Maybe that was the weird feeling he had. It was odd, and he wasn’t quite sure he liked the implications of it, but he was willing to set that aside for now. Especially because even after he got the letter he didn’t once think that she was leading him into a trap. 

Even when he knocked on the door he wasn’t worried which wasn’t something he expected. 

At her answer he nodded slightly pulling his messenger bag with him into the house. 

“Okay. Lead on,” He said quietly not trying to get anything to listen to him and not wanting to draw attention to him. That and he couldn’t help but feel a bit - awkward about the place. After all, the last time he was here he was threatened and told not to come back or else. 

He really must be an idiot to be here, but he had to know. Maybe that’s how Harper felt too. 

…

It was enough of a shock to significantly damper her frustration.  The past year had left her convinced that no one at the WWN listened to her show, that she was only allowed to speak her truth as a token voice of the opposition at an hour no one was awake to listen to.  No one told her that, but she was intelligent enough to read between the lines.  So it shocked her into silence when Mr. Richardson proved her wrong.  And it didn’t even matter to her that it was likely because of some work obligation.  He still listened.  “Oh – that’s… okay well…”  she shook her head to clear it.  “Good.”

She bit down on her lip, unsure of how to feel about all of this.  Did she want to accept him?  Not really.  Did she think she had a choice?  Also no.  But judging by the very short conversation they had had thus far he didn’t seem like the worst choice.  At least he hadn’t come in with a list of demands, of things to immediately change and implement now that it seemed as though they were going to be forced into working together.  “Okay,” she said again.  “Let me just –”  She didn’t bother to finish her sentence as she took the seat across from him, scanning over his notes.

“Your story choices aren’t bad, but I’m not sure how willing I am to change the message of my show,” she insisted, a bit of that frustration leaking back into her voice.  “Like this point,” she pointed to a particularly problematic one in his notes.  “that is some bull shit, and you and I both know it.  I’m not opposed to a different opinion, but what we’re not going to do is slant things in the same direction as the rest of the news.  There’s enough of that poorly concealed propaganda floating around enough already.”

.

Ash wasn’t quite sure why the other was surprised, but maybe she didn’t think anyone listened. That was fair enough, although he didn’t think it was an accurate picture. People generally though didn’t see the worth of what they did when it wasn’t shown to them. Thats how people got taken advantage of, and if Ash had been interested in doing that he would have played on that. 

However, that wasn’t why he was there and he wasn’t about to start being a douche for no reason. So he nodded slightly. 

Ash waited a moment wondering if she would figure out what he was doing herself or if he would have to be more explicit. He’d thought of the other as rather intelligent  but there was a lot there to read between the lines.It wouldn’t be a sign of her being any less for not catching it right away, especially because she didn’t know him. 

Looking over at what she was pointing at, he listened carefully and looked back at his own notes as if he realized something. 

“Oh - well that’s because you got my personal notes for what I wanted to bring up. Shoot.” When he said it his voice was flat and he tapped at his own notes looking at the booth to see if anyone was in there. “Now you’d know what I’d bring up in a case. Pity. Although if you want to take that story out I’m not too fussed.” 

“I was asked to present the - what would you call it? Mainstream view. I can’t really help if you see it as propaganda but I suppose if you wanted too you could find why they were wrong.” Subtly he pushed another paper towards her confident that no one was currently watching them but knowing that would be the most - incriminating part of what he was doing. At some point, she would probably realize what he was doing but he wasn’t willing to give every hint. 

“I mean if you can. My mistake you shouldn’t have seen my personal notes. The topic itself would be good though correct? I just gave you some more topics.” Which was false, they were just a list of inconsistencies in what he had written down. 

Eve listened to what Ash said, wishing it weren’t true. It didn’t phase her anymore, the requirement for scandal. Everyone around her lapped for it constantly, as if they needed something salacious with every meal. At this point, Eve simply found the truth of the industry tiring. Gossip made her world go round. What people couldn’t believe was what sold, no matter the emotional and mental toll the false headlines and exaggerated articles took on their subjects.

Whenever she felt like voicing her distaste for it, Evelyn kept her mouth shut. She felt, whether it was true or not, that after all of her years in the spotlight, after everything it had given her, she couldn’t really say anything. It wasn’t like she was one of the poor souls who was born in the middle of the ring. Yes, her family was old and well-known, bound to attract some attention, but for the most part she brought it on herself. She had pushed at the beginning of her career to go bigger and bolder. She had thrown herself into the international spotlight. If a tabloid printed something harsh or cruel about her, it was simply the karma for whatever good press she’d gotten the cycle before. It was the cost of doing business.

At his use of ‘we’, Evelyn wasn’t sure what to feel. She initially took it as including both of them, that they were there, observing the expanse together. However, as he went on, the distance between them grew until she wasn’t a part of his ‘we’ anymore. She was an outsider, closer to the ‘they’ that presented a pretty face and bolstered false good intentions to the press than to his ‘we’. She was one of the others.

“Well, it certainly would give them all something new to talk about. Keep them from shooting the same old insults at whatever target’s at the top of this week’s cycle.” Evelyn had meant to be sincere, but as she began to speak, her words came out flat. Part of her wanted to hop to the other side momentarily, to be a part of the ‘we’, but she wasn’t. She was the ‘them’, waiting to see what disaster might befall those who felt out of place or, crosswise, to see what disaster might befall the aristocrats who risked heart attacks each time they found out they’d just danced beside a mudblood. She was one of the ones who would watch and, if she wanted to, could enjoy it all, knowing she’d be unscathed at the end of the night, no matter what happened.

At his second comment Eve couldn’t disagree. Attendance was up, but honestly, with the length of the guest list last year, it would’ve been impossible to attain these numbers. Even if every single person invited had showed up, they wouldn’t have been able to pack the ballroom as it was now.

“That’s true. Thankfully, it’s not any harder to get a drink.” Eve finished hers and set it down on the counter behind them. Flutes, for all their aesthetic advantages, didn’t hold a lot of liquid. “It is harder to find space to dance though. Apparently everyone came wanting to make a show of it.”

Ash was trying to be mild with his own opinions, but he wasn’t sure how well he was doing. It was weird, standing next to Eve wanting to - make her comfortable in a sense. It wasn’t something he usually cared about for most people. After all, no one tried to make him comfortable and even though Eve wasn’t exactly trying either and probably didn’t expect it out of him. 

So he hesitated slightly realizing that she must think that he was going to put her in the news. He didn’t have the intention too - it wouldn’t help with what he was trying to do and if he was honest he didn’t want too. 

“True enough. It’s hard to be in the discussion,” He said trying not to show that he knew the feeling. Having eyes on you that were calculating your worth. As he grown unassuming with age it had gotten better but Ana and him had always felt eyes on them. They were inherently inferior even though they were apart of this world. They had followed the rules and still ended up on the heap pile of scandals. 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to subject her to one. He knew first hand how it could wreck someone, and for some reason he’d rather Eve not have to deal with it. 

“Lucky enough,” Ash said with a smile putting his own glass down and leaning on the counter looking at the ballroom with all the dancing people. “Yes, but doesn’t it look like something out of a fairy tale though? With all the gowns and everything. You couldn’t have had a magical picture like this without the crowd. The gardens are lovely too. I just came in from out there, if you were hoping for a breather or if the crowds get too much you should visit. And - just so you know I’m press, but I’m not on the record. If you were worried about that you don’t have to be. I personally am not one for pulling out individuals into scandals. My earlier comment was more so for the entirety of the party not for individuals.” 

.

Bertram thought of nothing when Ash’s tone of voice changed once the recording started. It’s something pretty common within the radio industry. Not that there weren’t people who were just naturally loud and energetic, both on and off the air. 

“Well,” he started, “I’m always writing new songs. And trying new things out. But I don’t want to release anything that isn’t my best.” Bertram had already collected his thoughts right before the interviewer arrived. Not to mention that he was already more or less prepped by his team regarding the things he should be saying. For publicity and image reasons, whatever that means. And they said shifting careers from Quidditch to the music industry was easy. 

“But for now, I still love doing small shows and gigs around England. I’m still doing those for anyone who wants to hear me live.” He added a small chuckle by the end. There wasn’t anything wrong with adding a little plug for his upcoming gigs, right?

“That’ll be amazing for your fans,” Ash said getting into the rhythm of the interview while his actual thoughts wandered. After all, he was sticking to as much of a script as the person across from him.  He wondered if the man actually cared about any of this. 

He couldn’t imagine caring that much about a surface level interview, but maybe the other was doing damage control. It would have been a more interesting story, but Ash didn’t do interesting stories. Interesting got a knife pointed at you, but competent got you doors opened. He was competent in his job. 

“- Thank you for letting us into a bit of your life Bertram and explaining your latest adventures.  We at WWN look forward to hearing from you.” 

With that he clicked off the recorder he nodded slightly and took the glass of water and finished the rest of it. 

“That was good. We should be able to use a lot of it. I’m not sure if you care about the final copy but I can send it to you before we air it,” he said his voice and personality going back more so to his usual self and no longer bubbly. 

After all, it wasn’t as if the other would care.

Alyosha returned Ash’s smile with a brief flash of fangs – mostly a response to the drink suggestion. It wasn’t an insult or a threat. “Thank you, but no thanks.” The vampire sincerely doubted that Rodolphus Lestrange had blood available for guests. It was not a common accommodation even among the progressive; though he didn’t know Lestrange personally, he didn’t think it was accurate to call him progressive.

“Does that happen often?” he asked, starting after Ash into the maze of the WWN. “Employees getting lost? I can’t imagine this place is more confusing to navigate than the Ministry and people seem to manage that just fine.”

. 

Ash noticed the fangs, and decided that perhaps the other was right not to want a drink. He wasn’t particularly shocked and probably should have paid more attention to the name - but he didn’t deal with vampires often. He doubted most wix did. “Fair enough,” he said nodding and continuing the journey. 

At the question he laughed slightly and said, “ More than you would expect. The problem is most of them don’t look up to see where they are or follow the line colors. With the expansions and technology the place has - it can grow more and more complicated the further you go back. See they never replaced the old stuff they just kept adding room for the new things. They also couldn’t go down because of the radio waves, so they built length wise which means its rather sprawling.  There’s also the archives which are just massive. I don’t think anyone has gotten lost for too terribly long, but long enough for it to be concerning about letting guest free to try and find their way around.” 

…

She sat without protest as he suggested it, knowing that it was probably a good idea.  He hadn’t been able to get out much before she had fled the last time they spoke, and even still, she still felt her hands begin to shake.  It was overwhelming to consider the implications of the very small amount that she had learned from him.  “A blood curse,” she repeated slowly.  “my father is a carrier…”  She didn’t want to believe it, but it made sense.  Her quiet, hasty adoption.  The fact that her aunt had died in a way no one could, or perhaps would, explain before Harper was born.  She didn’t interrupt, entranced by his story.

“So he cheated on my mum?”  She couldn’t let that go by without comment.  Her eyebrows raised and the surge of anger she felt told her that she believed him, even if she wasn’t fully ready to admit it out loud yet.  “Does she know about all of this too?”  

Her heart sank as he mentioned a sister – her sister too?  “What happened to her?”  She whispered, but she didn’t need him to answer.  It was obvious.  She ran a hand through her hair.  It was a tough line.  She was a Death Eater – she didn’t necessarily mind murder as a general concept, but murder to send a message or to further their cause was very different from the murder of an innocent, grieving woman.  That was reprehensible.  “I’m adopted,” she admitted, not sure if he knew or not.  “and an only child.  My aunt died before – I was born.  Unless he’s out there impregnating more women, which apparently isn’t out of character for him, it – should be okay.”  

Harper paused for a long time.  “What do you want to do?  I want – I want to help.”

.. 

Ash didn’t know what to feel. It was a better case scenario  than he could have imagined, but there was a sense that he’d ruined something. Then again, the guilt he felt should have been his to have anyway. He’d shattered the glass of a perfect family, but he hadn’t asked to be born. Pureblood society often held all of these skeletons that why should he feel bad that he let the light in. 

Still when she started shaking Ash moved almost instinctively closer as if he wanted to reach out, but hesitated not knowing if he should. 

At her question he shook his head softly. “I don’t know if she knows. When I went to see him I didn’t see anyone else. But - unless they had some sort of arrangement he probably did.” He left that open ended, if only for Harper’s sake because deep down he knew that Greengrass had done much worse to his family. 

At the question about Ana he paused slightly wondering if he could even say it without his voice shaking now. “She and her baby died in childbirth. At the time - I hadn’t figured out it was a blood curse when she and her husband got pregnant. By the time I figured it out and asked him about the curse - it was too late.” He made it vague the pain  not wanting to open up things that he couldn’t stitch back together. 

He let out a small breath at the fact she was adopted, something of a relief. He had thought she would have been, but with their father he couldn’t have been sure really. 

“That - I’m glad you were adopted. I knew about - her” he had almost said their aunt but he knew that he didn’t really have a claim. Still he wasn’t sure what made a family a family anymore. “I don’t know. That’s the problem I don’t know if we were the only ones. He wouldn’t tell me.” 

At the pause Ash paused too not knowing what to say. There was a fear creeping in him at the honesty and well their father. 

At her conclusion his eyes raised to her and for a moment he wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t. That he had just wanted to warn her. To lie and say that there was nothing to be done, but there was still penance and rage. Maybe Ana would have forgiven him but Ash never would. 

“I want - I want to make sure he can’t ruin anyone else. I don’t want him thinking he got away with it. I want to hurt him, but I don’t want to destroy you or your mother’s life. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I need to know how to do that without casualties.”