[Pyxis Abercrombie]

It had been several weeks since Farren first shared the news of her scandalous relationship with the O'Dwyer heir and Pyxis still didn't know how he felt about it. The Irish Man certainly wouldn't have been his first choice for his Cousin. As the Abercrombie heiress, Farren needed someone with charisma and a shrewd intellect. She needed someone capable of charming those around him, while being able to navigate through the world of manipulation and subtly they lived in. Farren needed a partner; someone willing to defer to her on occasions when her greater social prominence called for it, but not so deferential they were unwilling to challenge her in private. Merlin knew his head strong cousin needed someone to rein her in at times. And O'Dwyer... he was none of those things.

The boy Pyxis remembered from their days at Hogwarts had been a social recluse. A loner more interested in writing scribbles for his eyes only or brewing potions than participating in the school boy politics of Slytherin House. And while there was nothing wrong with the O'Dwyer family per say they also weren't known for their adherence to tradition. Would O'Dwyer have the etiquette required to avoid making a faux pas at the numerous social events he'd be required to attend as the partner of the future Abercrombie matriarch? It would be hard enough for Farren to make her own path, as a woman in a position typically inhabited by men, without adding a partner whose uncouth manner brought scandal to the family to the mix.

The Legilimens sighed as he stood in front of a mirror straightening his bow tie. Pyxis had opted to wear a navy dinner jacket with a matching pair of navy trousers. The twenty-eight-year old thought it was a good choice. It wasn't overly formal, but he also avoided the embarrassment of visiting his cousin and her parents looking like a common slob.

His task completed the purebloods thoughts turned back to his cousin. In all fairness, Declan couldn't be any worse than the paramour chosen by Farren's parents and their patriarch Spencer. Not that he would ever voice such a sentiment out loud. Clive had been a glorified sports star; a loud and obnoxious jock who understood little outside the Quidditch pitch. It was a miracle he hadn't needed to be reprimanded for belching at the dinner table and similar unseemly habits. Pyxis hadn't shed a single tear when the idiot went and got himself killed by this so called Dark Lord. While he had his reservations, the Pureblood decided he would do the little he could to support his cousin's ridiculous plans. She had married the suitor of their family's choice once. Why shouldn't she get the opportunity to make her own destiny?

With an almost silent pop, Pyxis disappeared from his apartment in Belgravia and appeared in his family's ancestral home of Dalemain. He appeared near the wing Farren had grown up in and still used when she visited the great estate. Pyxis summoned a house elf and politely asked them to inform Farren and her lady maid of his presence. A proper gentleman didn't just burst into the living quarters of a young woman and a sensible one did all he could to avoid the wrath of her lady maid.

It wasn't long until Farren, looking as beautiful as always, appeared before him. He took a quick glance around them before he offered her his arm to take. "So, Cousin, is this just a causal get together, or is there something I should know about?" It was his gentle way of querying whether the true nature of her relationship with Mr. O'Dwyer had become known. Because, if it had been, some pain relief potion could be in order. If he knew Victoria, and he did, her reaction was not going to be pretty.

[Farren Abercrombie]

Farren was thrilled when the elf let her know that Pyxis had arrived and was in the hall. Every other week she had a standing dinner invitation at Dalemain. She would come from London to Cumbria for the appointment, often opting to spend the majority of the weekend in her childhood home. Though she often ruffled feathers with her mother she enjoyed being in her home and the access it gave her to the hills and lakes she'd enjoyed as a child.

At breakfast she'd been informed that her cousin Pyxis had been invited tonight. While not particularly abnormal he was not here more than once a month most of the time. So it was nice to have him join them. At least it provided there would be someone else to criticize besides her. She'd been dressed and ready for the day since having finished her ride mid-morning. A simple green dress was accented with an elegant necklace that had been gifted to her grandmother in the 20s.  Setting down her reading Farren moved into the hallway where her cousin waited for her.


Taking his offered arm she laughed at his question. "I honestly haven't the faintest idea what this is about. I assume more about how we should also join up with Lord Voldemort. They certainly don't know anything about me worth discussing." She paused "Well....nothing apart from her usual about how I'm a massive disappointment and a total failure at life."

She turned leading Pyxis down the stairs into the center wing of the house where the shared common spaces were. "Maybe it's about you?" she posed arching her eyebrow. The dinning room was set for six: her grandparents, her parents, and the two of them. "Perhaps it's your turn to be the one in the hot seat for once," she lowered her voice as they entered the room where her father and Grandmother were already sitting at the table. Her grandmother was as stately as ever, dressed in something she might have literally resureccted from 1879 with her seamstress. Her father however was less impressed with such protocols. Though he had on evening wear he'd not even bothered with a tie or shaving for that matter. It was all very expected and would not surprise Pyxis. Seeing as she'd been at the house since the even before she'd already seen them multiple times and a formal greeting wasn't necessary. So she dropped Pyxis' arm and slipped into her seat across from her father while he greeted them.

Generally when it was the six of them they were quite informal. Though Pyxis was from the disgraced portion of the family he was the only family Farren had. His parents efforts to make up for the failures of their kin hadn't gone unnoticed. Pyxis was welcomed to Dalemain as often as he pleased and his relationship with her parents and grandparents was about as informal as people like them could manage. Each time he joined them for dinner the set up was the same, Spencer and Farrah her grandparents at the ends of the table. Her father sat to the right of her grandfather and she to his left. Then beside her Pyxis and beside her father her mother.

"How is that old pony of yours today Farren?" her father asked with a hint of a smirk. Farren had been gifted her gelding Tybalt when she was 12 and graduated from schooling pony. Though he was getting on with age Tybalt was still a handsome, sporty horse. However compared to the exotic magical horses her grandfather had started keeping the 20 year old gelding looked rather plain. So her father had taken to calling him her old pony as a joke. She refused to replace him or ride their other horses if it was a ride Tybalt was capable of, she was loyal to her old friend.

"Very well. We rode all the way to Hutton," she tapped her wine glass with her finger and it magically filled with the selection of the evening.

"Checking in on your real estate portfolio?" Rawdon teased her further. If her mother had been in the room the joke would have gone very poorly. Hutton, the house five miles from Dalemain on the opposite end of the estate was where the family heir was supposed to live and raise their family. Dalemain being the house for the seniors and Hutton the house for the younger family. It was bigger, parts of it were even finer than Dalemain by quite a lot, and it had been the seat of the second in command of the family for generations. Until her father, who had decided there was no need to move to Hutton when he had just one child and no interest in the astronomical costs and efforts of running his own mansion. Victoria had never emotionally recovered from being denied her own household. Having been married Farren couldn't say she blamed her much. She'd have rather cut off a finger than live with Mrs. Rosier.

"Ha," she smirked at her father, "Possibly," she paused for effect which made her father grin. They both knew she had no intention of moving to Hutton anytime soon. "The unicorn mare that had been living on the east edge of the forest there is due to drop a foal any day now. I went to see if there were any signs of it. Alas, the thing is either not born or they were scared off as we approached."

"Perhaps if you had a more nimble, sporty pony...." her father smirked.

Farrah was clearly very bored of their tittering about horses and unicorns already. Since it was all that seemed to be talked about these days, horses, Farrah had grown quite impatient with the topic. "Pyxis, do tell us how your work is going. Have you been put up for a promotion this year? Surely you are but a couple of years away from running your department...."

Rawdon glanced at Farren with a look somewhere between annoyance and sheer boredom at the answer Pyxis had not even given yet. Farrah never stopped obsessing over Pyxis' career, which was perhaps normal for nosy old ladies but nevertheless boring for everyone else.

Thankfully he was not given much time to get out an answer before the two remaining members of their party arrived. Her grandfather and mother entered the room together. Clearly they had been together somewhere. "So you didn't forget," her grandmother quipped as they entered the room.

"Hardly," Spencer responded curtly. "Pyxis," he said greeting him with a little nod as he took his seat at the head of the table.

As usual her mother, Victoria, looked disgruntled. Her dress was structured and dark, it looked unseasonably warm even, and she wore a silk robe draped from the sharp shoulders of the gown. Out of all of them she was the only one a muggle might think was utterly bizarre looking. Well, if the muggle assumed her grandmother was going to a period fancy dress party. Victoria refused to adapt her style even the slightest towards modern trends pulled from other cultures. "Good evening all," she said as she took her seat next to her husband.


"Well....Pyxis was just telling me of his job," Farrah offered as everyone reached for their napkins to lay across their laps and signal the start of the meal. Glasses filled as a pair of house elves in crisp, black uniforms that looked like pillow cases with cut outs for their heads and arms trotted into the room with the first course. "Surely you have some other exciting tales for your provincial relatives?" she suggested with a faint smile.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis resisted the urge to visibly recoil at the mention of Lord Voldemort. Years of childhood tutoring on the importance of maintaining an impassive façade along with keen Occlumency skills were the only things which stopped him from doing so. He had seen one of the victims of the Dark Lord in the memories of his friend Odhrán O'Dálaigh. An unfortunate soul who would never be the same again after what looked like an intense round of torture involving particularly aggressive Legilimency, the Cruciatius Curse and the Imperius Curse. And following some research he'd been shocked to learn the man hadn't been the only one left in such a state. While Pyxis disapproved of the Mudblood influence on their world he couldn't bring himself to treat another soul like that. Stripping them of wand and memory of the magical world was a much more humane and elegant solution.

He let out a grunt of annoyance as Farren referred to herself as a total failure at life. Had they more time he would have argued against the assertion pointing out that her father was openly fond of her and her grandfather too though the latter's regard was held with a little more reserve. The Pureblood grimaced at his cousin as she shared her theory on the reason for their gathering. He hoped that wasn't the case. Being the one to face the disapproval and edicts of their elders was never a fun position to be in and Pyxis did not have his Cousin's invaluable status in the family to defend himself with. While Farren would have to do something truly heinous in their eyes, like marry a mudblood for instance, to be disowned. Pyxis was under no delusion they wouldn't do the same to him without a second thought if they sensed the slightest ounce of disobedience.

The Legilimens split from his Cousin to offer the greeting expected of him along with a compliment on the stately dress chosen by Farren's grandmother. Like Farren he gently tapped the wine glass with his finger and watched as it filled with the selection of the evening. The Pureblood listened politely as Rawdon started to titter on about Farren's pony of choice. Pyxis took a few sips from the glass to occupy himself while disguising the boredom he felt. While the younger Abercrombie respected Rawdon's station as the future patriarch of their family he couldn't say, in truth, he respected the man himself. His decision to remain in Dalemain was one shortcoming that quickly came to mind. Farren's mother was correct;  not setting up his own base of power and remaining in the shadow of his father had been a mistake, but of course who was he to comment on such things?

Pyxis was drawn out of his dangerous thoughts by a query from Farrah. The Pureblood offered her a soft smile before he began to answer. "It is going quite well... Bul.."

His answer was interrupted by the arrival of the final members of their party. "Good evening" he greeted both Spencer and Victoria warmly before his attention was drawn back to Farrah and her query. He resisted the urge to grimace at Victoria's additional comment. It was best to keep his answer to Farrah succinct then while considering something else to mention Victoria would approve of. "My work at the ministry is going well! Bulstrode is planning to retire at the end of the year and I hope to obtain his post." He kept his voice neutral and free of pride as he spoke of the matter knowing his relatives probably saw his work at the Ministry as trivial at best considering the higher place in society they all held. Bulstrode was the Deputy in Pyxis' department and getting that role would certainly open the door to heading the department one day as Farrah had mentioned he should aspire to.

Pyxis still struggled to think of an 'interesting tale' to share before finally settling on. "I made some progress I was pleased with during my most recent Legilimency session. I was able to implant in my tutor's mind a false memory he didn't detect until I shared it with him." He didn't mention that his lessons with Odhrán had played a great part in his marked improvement in the more offensive mind art. It was also a sign that the time for Pyxis lessons with his current tutor to end was nearing as his skill now matched the man's if not surpassed it. While it wasn't 'exciting' per say, Pyxis also knew that Victoria was a power hungry witch, one who was always striving for greater heights, and he hoped the obvious attempts to both better himself and increase his power would meet the witches approval.

However, he didn't care for this place in the hot seat and therefore turned his gaze to Farren before asking his favourite Cousin "And what about you Cousin Farren? Any exciting upcoming articles for the Prophet we should know about?" He was certain his Cousin wouldn't thank him for bringing the spotlight on to her, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment.

[Farren Abercrombie]

Farrah nodded as Pyxis explained to them his projections at work. Spencer as well appeared mildly engaged as he tucked into his soup course. "Well, that is good, we wouldn't want you languishing in a mid-tier position, would we?"

No one responded which made it unclear if they just did not care at all about his job at the Ministry or didn't care enough to remember what he even did. More than likely it was a combination of both, the table looked at him expectantly, clearly waiting for whatever exciting or at least nominally more interesting tale he could conjure at Farrah's request.

His anecdote was brief but caught everyone's attention. Most of all Victoria whose gaze settled on him rather determinedly. "And your tutor are they of renowned skill in this field? Have you truly surpassed a gifted tutor?" Her tone was clipped, it was unclear if she was genuinely asking or testing him somehow. "If you are truly that skilled that you have surpassed a master, well, I know we could find you someone superior to train with in our ranks."

Farren glanced at Pyxis out of the corner of her eye. If he bothered to read her mind right now he'd hear her rolling her eyes and saying, 'See, I told you she couldn't make it a whole five minutes without trying to recruit you.'

Rawdon surprisingly interjected, turning to his wife he smiled, "Darling I'm sure Pyxis will come to you when he's ready for a more advanced teacher. We all know you to be the best connected in the family."

Again Farren had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Sure her mother was the most well connected in the family, if they were only counting inbred political extremists.

"Your talents are being wasted at the Ministry Pyxis," Victoria added, "If you'd only see that, there is so much more use for you talents."

"Indeed Pyxis," Farren interjected this time looking from her mother to Pyxis beside her. "You could make an utter killing at the fancy balls and parties we attend. Such a good parlor trick you have," she smirked. She was of course teasing, she knew Pyxis was a genius in some regards. If she cared about such things she might think to be jealous of him even, but alas Farren Abercrombie did have to worry about proving herself via skills and talents. She could however dominate the entire dinner conversation to relieve Pyxis of having to respond to her mother.

"Indeed, we do in fact have a rather interesting piece coming out about Johann Bach, the composer, most Britons are not aware that he was a squib and in fact his talent and legacy have been all but co-opted by the muggles for their own history." Farren said in response to his question, steering conversation away from her mother's attempt to recruit Pyxis.

"My, my, is that so?" Farrah asked seeming genuinely surprised.
"Quite true I'm afraid," Farren said with a nod, "Contemporary scholars project that if it were not for the enhanced senses he retained as a foot print of his parent's magical abilities he would not have been so musically talented."

"Do you project then that there is need to recognize creatures of magical influence that do not have magical powers then?" Victoria purred icily across the table at her daughter.

"He's not a creature. He's a human. With two magical parents. The piece only acts to highlight that even when magical skills are not fully manifested the finger prints of our powers alone elevate a human being in skill and worth," Farren shot back at her mother so cooly she didn't even bother to put her soup spoon down.

"So you do agree then, that magic makes humans superior to those that do not have magic?" Victoria posed arching her eyebrow.
"Clearly we are all in agreement on that at this table," Farren said with a small smile.

"Pyxis...." Spencer's voice was not raised but his meter boomed over the two women barely avoiding a squabble across the table.

"With a promotion looming in your immediate future, we must start discussions with your family about where will seat you. A successful young man needs a proper home. A county seat, not just a flat in London, somewhere he can raise a family."

Farren sat her spoon down now and turned to look at Pyxis. Oh dear. This was not on her dance card for the evening.

"You mean to bestow an estate upon Pyxis?" Farren asked her grandfather.

"Not an estate but a house. Some land. Something to not be ashamed of at least. Better than most by far," Spencer saytdown his glass and looked at Farren next to him.

She knew her Grandfather well but could not interpret his expression. It seemed there was more on his mind that she'd realized when he sat down.

"No one in this family is getting any younger. It is time everyone came to terms with this and realized their duties to the family," Spencer spoke slowly, almost softly, his gaze directly on her.

Immediately she felt a small pit in the bottom of her stomach. It was as if she knew what was coming but could not bring herself to acknowledge it.

"We're very proud of how you've both handled yourselves with what you've been given. There comes a time though when we must all grow up and accept what is required of us. Pyxis cannot expect to marry well without land and a home for a young lady to manage. No socialite wants to be queen of a two bedroom flat. So we will discuss with his mother and father what is appropriate when the time comes."

Farren's cool expression faltered. He was talking about Pyxis but the pit in her stomach was growing quickly. "When the time comes. What do you mean? Why is the time not now? He is far older than I was upon my wedding."

Spencer held her gaze and with a tender expression reached out to pat her hand. "My dear, it is time for you as well, you've had years now to grieve Clive and live out your life as you pleased, but you have a limited schedule. Your best years are nearly approaching. If you are going to have the large family you want, you must start it now."

Farren scoffed, was it suddenly 10000 degrees in here? Swallowing a lump in her throat her eyes darted to her father across the table but he was busy pushing his spoon around his soup. "Surely you're joking with me to save Pyxis some embarrassment of having it pointed out he's had no suitors of his own?" her smile was almost pleading.

Spencer pursed his lips and pat her hand again. "Farren, we have called you and Pyxis for dinner so we could tell you together. It is our intention to make a match with you this summer and following your new marriage we will do the same for Pyxis in the new year. A fall wedding followed by a summer wedding. Truly a year of blessings it will be for the Abercrombies."

Trying to hide the panic building within her she glanced at Pyxis next to her. He was the only one here that knew about Declan. They most surely did not mean Declan. Her family had gone out and set up suitors behind her back, kept it totally quiet, and now were going to feed her to the wolves.

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

Pyxis found himself quickly regretting his choice of anecdote as Victoria began to interrogate him. Ordinarily he'd have been quite quick to answer her questions, proud even, but he knew what was coming. The young Pureblood had no intentions of joining 'the cause' and if any of that cult were skilled enough to teach him something new he most certainly did not want them anywhere near his head.

The Occlumens was blessedly saved from answering first by the interjection of Farren's father and then his Cousin herself. Knowing that none of those present had much skills in the mind arts; the Legilimens projected outwards a feeling of gratitude to Farren not daring to express such sentiments out loud, even through body language. Victoria Abercrombie was like a shark and shared their ability to sense fear.

The Briton listened with genuine interest as Farren began to explain her piece on Johann Bach. Pyxis knew music was a genuine passion of Farren's and he enjoyed listening to her talk about it for that reason. He almost winced at Victoria's icy response before feeling proud as Farren ably held her own against her intimidating mother. Pyxis was genuinely proud of his cousin. He was certain he couldn't have handled Victoria's ire so effortlessly.

He moved to offer a comment, which would have been a gentle but firm support of Farren's position when their patriarch spoke his name.

Pyxis didn't even attempt to hide the shock he felt when Lord Abercrombie spoke of bestowing a country seat on him. His mind began trying to process the information. It wasn't that he was ungrateful; Pyxis was very aware of the advantages the arrangement would provide. It would be a sign to those outside he was well regarded by the family, which in turn would raise his marriage prospects and social status. However, why now when the family's official policy had been to leave him to it as long as he didn't cause them some sort of embarrassment?

It seemed his Cousin felt the same shock as she quickly asked for more details on the arrangement. In truth Pyxis didn't know how to feel. He enjoyed the freedom he currently possessed. Living alone meant he didn't have to worry about explaining to anyone the late nights with the Department of Mysteries or suddenly having to leave in a hurry. On the other hand, he had always known creating the next generation of Abercrombie's was expected of him. He was actually excited at the prospect of finding a wife and producing some children, and if his social position was elevated in the process all the better.

His heart sunk at Spencer's next comment, and Pyxis' gaze immediately turned to look at his Cousin Farren as the implications sank in. It was obvious what was coming, even if his Cousin' query was an obvious attempt to deny it. And there it is he thought with a grimace.

Although he had promised not to read his Cousin' mind without her express permission the fear and anxiety suddenly radiating off her was like the blares of a siren to Pyxis. He gently directed a thought outwards. The message as clear and direct as he could manage knowing Farren had little practice in interpretation mental projections. 'It is going to be okay! We can fix this just stay calm."

Partially to give his Cousin time to get over the shock of Spencer's pronouncements and partially out of genuine interest he spoke. "And who are the current prospects in mind for us?" The words were spoken in a neutral tone. He didn't bother even considering the idea that none had been found as of yet. If Spencer was already talking about an autumn wedding followed by a summer wedding discussions had already taken place. Although, in all honesty, he was asking for Farren's sake more than his own, but it would have looked suspicious if he hadn't included himself in the query.

His gaze flickered to Farren's for a moment. The Pureblood offered his Cousin a smile before his attention returned to Spencer. Pyxis knew he couldn't say too much, not if he didn't want to betray his cousin's confidence in the process. "If I..." There was a deliberate pause as he wanted them to think the next remark was in reference to himself.  "One of us was to find someone we cared for... someone of distinguished lineage, who could be an asset to the family providing further financial and political power through the Union. Would you be open to considering them as an alternative?"

Pyxis knew his query could go very wrong. He could be sharply rebuked for remotely implying he knew better, but if there was a chance he could get the older man to acquiesce and provide an opening for Farren to get her happily ever after with Mr. O'Dwyer with relatively little fuss it was a risk he was willing to take.

[Farren Abercrombie]

TW: Era related discussions of race and POC.



Farren was thankful Pyxis took the lead. It would buy her a few moments to run strategy options in her head. The most obvious and probably smartest strategy was to employ a poker face, act entirely unbothered, and shrug it off in the immediate, and refuse to cooperate later. Of course the difficulty there being she was entirely bothered, outraged even. They'd done this before and she'd complied. It had been miserable for everyone, the thought that they would do it again had never seriously crossed her mind. Surely they had learned, she'd assumed, that forcing her to do anything was a bad choice.


Spencer was surprised it was Pyxis who spoke up and that Farren remained silent. He considered his granddaughter for a moment, her expression was unfathomable as she stared at the place settings before her. For a moment he wondered if Pyxis and she were communicating amongst themselves, if he had began to teach the girl such skills. "Well....." he started pulling his gaze from his granddaughter to the boy. "There are a handful of young ladies we think could be appropriate for you Pyxis. Our first choice would be the Selwyn girl. She is 24, Slytherin graduate, her family have a respectable estate in Northumbria, she is working now, until marriage, as a clerk for the Wizengamot. She is petite, auburn hair, her mother is a Weasley....which....well at least their blood is good."


There was a small noise of disapproval across the table from Pyxis. Victoria exchanged glances with her mother in law, both had strong opinions on families like the Weasleys.


"Then of course there are two other strong candidates I like," Spencer continued ignoring and protestation of his daughter in law.  "The Flint girl. She is 27 though, rather older than the others, but her mother is a Rosier, so we know they're good stock. I believe she is presently overseeing a ward in St. Mungo's. Naturally like all the girls we met she will stop working after marriage. Then there is the Shaklebolt girl, she's quite young, 22, but she's just finished her law degree and is working now in Magical Law Enforcement. From what I recall she's taller, dark hair,"


"What's a shade or two of tawny when you have the Head of Magical Law Enforcement as a father in law?" Victoria quipped with a smirk.


Spencer glared down the table at her warningly.


"I'm merely pointing out it might be worth polluting the bloodline for the sake of never having to actually worry about Azkaban for any of us. The Ministry isn't taking kindly to things we've been up to lately so if it takes a tawny grandchild to appease the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, well that's a sacrifice we can make I think." she said raising her eyebrows as if this was an entirely logical line of thinking and everyone else was fooling themselves for pretending they hadn't thought about the tradeoff.


"Yes, yes alright," Spencer waved his hand dismissively at Victoria, "Indeed, the girl's father is of African heritage but so were a great many who earned a peerage from the British crown in the 17 and 1800s. Pure magical blood is pure magical blood."


Unable to look ahead without expression anymore Farren's eyebrow arched as she looked across the table at her mother. What in Merlin's name was she on about? "A shade or two of tawny?" she repeated in disbelief, "What year is it in this family? 1669?" Scowling she stared at her mother who was glaring right back at her. Honestly, she wasn't sure her mother of all people had space to complain about anyone. "I went to school with Carlin Shaklebolt and I won't deny I found him quite fetching," she said matter of factly, her gaze steady on her mother, watching the knife dig into her side as she stated aloud she'd found a black wizard attractive.

Victoria rolled her eyes, almost hissing at her daughter, "Of course you did, anyone but the handsome, blonde, British-French husband I found you before. You'd marry a Zulu warrior if you knew it upset me."



Farren couldn't help herself now. She snickered loudly before pursing her lips trying not to outright laugh in her mother's face. "Very well may at this rate," she quipped with a smirk. "I can't wait to hear whom you've all picked for me if these are Pyxis' choices. I don't know what would be worse, a Weasley, another Rosier, or a Zulu warrior."

Rawdon laughed loudly at Farren's comment and turned to Victoria with a smirk. Spencer however had lost his patience with his children and let his fist hit the table.

"Enough. Enough, you've all been raised to respect magical blood above anything else. How dare you insinuate the Shaklebolts are not an appropriate match. They are a proud, respectable pureblood family. That's quite enough immature snickering for you lot."


Farren pursed her lips trying not to laugh even more. Of course she didn't actually care who Pyxis married or what they looked liked. It was the 1970s for Merlin's sake, such things hardly mattered now, but she knew it would matter to her mother and Grandmother and if it provided her an opportunity to take cheap shots at her mother she was not mature enough to pass that up.


Sighing Spencer downed the last of his wine glass shaking his head a little at all of them clearly aggitated by them.


"Pyxis Dear, do you mean to say there is a young lady you have your eye on?" Farrah interjected from the end of the table. Always a peace keeper the woman had enough self control to keep comments to herself even when she was deeply unhappy. A product of her generation of aristocratic young ladies if there ever was one.


"Yes, he's been quite taken by a Zulu Princess on one of his boring tax work trips," Farren interjected stifling another laugh with a cough.

Rawdon's laugh very nearly drown out the disapproving hiss from Victoria beside him.


"Very well Farren, we shall get to you then," her Grandmother's tone shifted to a less diplomatic one as her gaze moved from Pyxis to Farren. "We have all agreed that Ambrose Malfoy is to be your intended, assuming he isn't repulsed by your table manners."


It was surely a joke. This was insane. Even she wouldn't have dreamed this up if she'd tried to think of horrible choices for herself. Farren stared at her Grandmother in shock before her gaze darted to her father across from her. He looked away from her, unable to look her in the eyes. Slowly she turned to look at her Grandfather for confirmation.

"Ambrose is a good man, we could not think of a better family to join with than the Malfoys. We're all very pleased that he was interested in the prospect," Spencer said matter of factly.

"But he's in his 40s...." Farren stammered in both shock and confusion. Looking to Pyxis with a look of genuine concern for a moment she debated if she should just break the news to them all now of Declan.

"Yes, yes he is, so maybe he can keep you in check," Victoria shot back at her daughter.

"Keep me in check? I married Clive like you wanted. I am one of the most respected women in our society. I never go out and make scenes. I do all sorts of philanthropy work for the fine arts. My date to literally everything is Pyxis. What have I done that's so wildly offensive I need to be kept in check?"


No one said anything. Farren looked to each of them for a response and there was none.


"It's not my fault the man you all picked got himself killed by Lord Voldemort! Why am I being punished for doing what was asked of me to begin with?"


"You're not being punished," Spencer answered swiftly, "You're being promised to the best candidate we have. He's mature, respected, kind, powerful, and wealthy. He, like you, lost his first spouse. He already has a son and a daughter from that marriage. The children you give him will be able to carry on our name since he already has two direct heirs. It's an appropriate match with a good family. The Malfoy's can give you even more houses and jewels than the Rosiers. Once you produce a few children you can come back and live here if you like. It's for the best Farren."



"Mrs. Farren Malfoy," Farrah said offering a smiled of encouragement.


Farren rolled her eyes and picked up her wine glass, leaning back into her chair. It was absurd. The man was probably nearer her father in age than herself. All of this was purely about producing children with their family name. This wasn't about her happiness, it never had been. She was a brood mare and nothing more.

"Alright, well, I won't do it," she said with a shrug. "I'm not doing it. I'm sorry, I can't marry him nor anyone you pick. I married Clive for you and I've never been so miserable. If you want to put me under the imperious curse and force me to marry him that's your choice, if you care that much about heirs. My official response is no. Let Pyxis have the estate. I'd rather live off the Rosier money and name than be forced to marry someone I didn't choose - again."


No one responded to her. Everyone just stared silently. Scoffing at their silence she turned to Pyxis, "When you inherit I only ask that you let me keep the jewels I've already been bestowed, I've grown quite attached to the Nettlehorst Tiara."

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

The Pureblood listened stone-faced as Spencer admitted they had a few options in mind for the pair of them. Of course, they'd gone off and begun negotiations before consulting either of them on the matter. His expression hardened at the word 'Weasley'. They wanted him to marry a close relation of those blood traitors with their garish red hair, hand-me-down robes, and utter disrespect for wizarding history and cultures? What had he done to offend Lord Abercrombie? The only thing worse would have been a mudblood. It was no wonder Victoria was practically hissing like an angry cat. It was only his keen sense of decorum that stopped him from doing the same.

He listened with a more open mind as Lord Abercrombie described the Flint girl. He had a vague recollection of a girl from that family in the year below him at Hogwarts. She had certainly been attractive, and surely she must be more than an air-head socialite if she was good enough to not only get into healing but oversee a whole department. The only thing that was putting him off was the close association with the Rosiers. While not as offensive a suggestion as a Weasley, Farren had made them sound like a total nightmare.

Pyxis hadn't a chance to even consider the Shacklebolt girl, as Victoria decided it was an opportune moment to interrupt. His expression darkened the more she spoke. Although it was subtle compared to some, anyone who knew him well would have recognised the Occlumens was outraged! How dare she speak of his future children in such a matter? Pyxis was everything they could ever want; classically handsome, of above-average intelligence with an almost prodigy-like affinity for the mind arts, well-mannered and beloved by the Media having once won a most eligible bachelor reward. He had lived his life thus far doing his duty to this family, and he would be damned if his children's prospects were in any way lowered because she wanted protection in the event her foolish decision to run around after a lunatic came back to haunt her. No, he would be providing his children with as many advantages as possible.

The Occlumens gave Farren a grateful look as she interjected with an amusing anecdote. A vague image of Carlin Shacklebolt came to mind; a seeker for the Gryffindor team if he recalled correctly and a rather successful one at that. He almost snorted when his favourite Cousin bluntly highlighted the abysmal choices he'd been given though he still thought the Flint girl was the most appealing option. He was thankful when Farren saved him from answering Farrah's query. While he was willing to engage in half-truths and misdirection an outright lie would have been going too far. Imagine the results if he were caught?

The Purebloods eyes widened as Farrah revealed their plans. They wanted Farren to marry a man more than a decade her elder? And not only that but one with two young children to boot! They didn't know their heir, did they? He listened to their conversation in silence and sure enough, there was the refusal he knew was coming! It was only then he finally spoke up.

"Don't be so ridiculous Farren" he commented with open exasperation. He avoided the gazes of their relatives guessing they thought it meant he would be fulfilling his role as the dutiful Cousin and siding with them. They were going to be sorely disappointed.

"There is no scenario where they would disown you. You are their granddaughter, their child, the only direct continuation of their line. You grew up in these halls under their guidance. Your strengths and your flaws can be attributed directly to them. If they were to disown you; it would bring scandal it would take generations for this family to recover from." His gaze turned to each of the occupants as if to dare them to contradict his rather blunt assessment of the situation. First Farrah, then Victoria, then Rawdon, and finally their patriarch Spencer, though the last took every ounce of his courage.

"However, your grandfather does have a valid point Cousin Farren. As purebloods, it is our duty to marry well and we can't derelict from that." It would be foolish of them to completely alienate the elders in their family, especially since it wasn't truly the idea of marriage and kids Farren protested, but who they'd chosen for her to spend her life with.

"Surely, in the interests of familial harmony, we could consider some sort of compromise." He was now addressing Spencer once more. The words were spoken in a gentle seemingly musing tone though the Abercrombie knew precisely where he was taking this. "Perhaps giving Cousin Farren a year to find someone of her own choice would be fitting. They would naturally have to be of good blood and able to bring the jewels Mr. Malfoy would have. If she is unable to independently find a suitable suitor by then she would have to marry Ambrose or whoever else you choose." Had Farren been truly single, as the family believed, it would have been a shoddy deal placing a lot of unfair pressure on his Cousin. But since she already had Mr. O'Dwyer waiting in the wings it was hardly a big ask of her.

Pyxis made contact with Farren's grandmother hoping that she at least would appreciate his attempts to negotiate rather than join in with the squabbling the others had fallen into.

The young Pureblood pressed on, as he decided it would be best to try and give them time to process Farren's rebellion and his comments before they responded. "As for my choices, I very much appreciate the efforts you've made with Miss. Shacklebolt, but aren't these unions about strengthening the family? And we wouldn't want an arrangement that led some foolish people into thinking we were doing the opposite would we?" It was a very clear dig at Victoria. The young Abercrombie was not able to resist despite his overall attempts to rise above the bickering.

"However, I would be delighted to at least meet Miss Sewlyn and Miss Flint" even if the idea of wedding a Weasley was frighteningly ghastly. However, some sort of concession had to be made.

[Farren Abercrombie]

The table was surprisingly quite as Pyxis spoke. Farren swirled her spoon in her soup, the silver occasionally clinking lightly against the side of the china bowl. Others picked at their food, lifted their glasses to drink, but everyone listened -or at least didn't interrupt.


When he finished his speech the eyes at the table flickered to Spencer who seemed rather interested in his main course plate that had just been sat in front of him. No one spoke. The house elves came around the table setting down mains as the china and plates of the soup and salads disappeared and wine glasses refilled themselves.


As her soup bowl disappeared in front of her Farren huffed softly. Turning to her cousin she exchanged a worried glance. He had taken a bold step in standing up to her Grandfather like that and the silence around the table only increased her concern about what was to come.


Victoria glanced silently at her mother in law. The older woman was silent as she stared at Spencer waiting for his reaction.


Rawdon remained leaning back in his chair casually observing everyone else at the table.


After everyone's main courses were set in front of them Spencer lowered his own fork. His icy blue eyes settled on Pyxis his expression stern. "Very well, I shall set up a meeting for you with Miss Sewlyn within the month. I will coordinate this with your mother." His tone was cool but not harsh.

Farren knew this was a bad sign. Pyxis might be welcomed and comfortable amongst them but he hadn't grown up here. Her Grandfather would hardly take anything he'd said well. If had never sat well with her family that she was who she was. They'd needed boys, as many as they could get, and they'd got one girl. An artist at that. They'd tried to groom and mold her like one of the marble sculptures that lined the main hall of Dalemain but she was an imperfect stone. It had never occurred to them to raise her as a boy, with a head for business, insider connections in the worlds of politics and commerce. So they'd raised her the only way they knew how, as a socialite. An imperfect heir in that she had to be taken on by another family, another name in order to return power to her own family in the form of male heirs. Imperfect in the sense that she'd been educated as a woman, socialized as a woman, and knew none of the rooms of power her Grandfather had waited anxiously to introduce to a son. It didn't matter that none of this was her own fault. You couldn't be made at fate and nature so the anger landed on her and her mother. They'd failed them and yet also had to save them all.


"As for Farren. Well...we are all painfully aware she has been a widow twice as long as she was married. In that time she has turned down meetings with every eligible young man of standing in London. In the last four years instead of deigning to meet with any of the dozen nice young men who have come calling what has she done?"


Spencer looked up from his plate waiting for an answer from the table. No one said anything. Farren stared down at her plate biting the inside of her cheek to keep from blowing up at them all.

"She has engaged in a legal battle with the Rosier family to retain the property and corporation in Clive's holding when he died. She has conducted an affair with Clive's best friend, a middle class wizard with questionable blood status. She has started a career at the only publication in England not controlled by our company. She has hosted artists and radicals and socialites and accumulated more favors from these Bright Young Things than she'll ever be able to cash in. Oh....and she's moved almost all of her possessions out of the vault we gave her inside the family vault into a separate, private vault she opened two days after Clive died."


He picked up his wine glass and turned to look at his granddaughter, running his tongue over his teeth as he did.


"Indeed, she is a product of this house. She's played her hand well. She is so wealthy and well connected now she thinks she doesn't need us. To which I can only tip my hat. It's a valiant effort at playing both sides of the coin. However, without us her connections and place in society withers and without her we die out. So you see in order to feed the beast she too has to pay a price. She's had more time than most girls. More freedom than most. If she'd brought me a young man six months ago of course I'd have considered him. But she has not. She's going to inherit this house and these lands and this company and our Wizengamot seat whether she wants to or not. So, at this point, all I can do to prepare her is provide her with a suitable partner and mentor, which I have. Ambrose is the ideal companion for the life she is destined to have."


Rawdon sighed leaning forward and setting down his glass. "Farren," he said softly looking across the table at his daughter.


"Is there someone?" he glanced at his father, his expression urging caution from the older man.


"No one wants you to be unhappy but there are only so many years we can let pass letting you run wild around London. You've built your own fortune, your own life, fine. But you have a duty here too. If there is someone special I for one am happy to meet him immediately and assuming he's of suitable heritage and good prospects in our eyes I'm happy to make the case for you."


Farren stared across the table at her father. Her rage extended to him too though. Where had he been six years ago? Why had he let her be married off so soon? So green? And what was he going to do about it now? He was the one who had let Grandfather down. He had failed to produce sons. He didn't care about any of this other than resigned obligation. For a moment she just stared debating her strategy internally. Now would be the moment. To tell them about Declan, that they'd discussed marrying and that it was merely a matter of time now. Perhaps that was the best thing to do but she was hesitant.


If she told them about Declan they would have plenty of lead time between now and a proposal to sabotage that - or at least try. The last thing she wanted was her family meddling with Declan or the O'Dwyers in advance of a marriage. There was too much risk to laying her cards out on the table like that now. Perhaps that was her Grandfather's angle. To provoke action out of her?


"No," she said simply to her father. She didn't worry about Pyxis being surprised by this lie. He could see through her mind into her strategizing if he needed to. "But I'm not marrying Ambrose either," she said cooly.


Her father sighed. Spencer shook his head and looked back at his plate. Farren shrugged. "I told you. I'm not. Grandfather pointed out that I have plenty of money of my own. I can be a spinster if I wanted to. I don't want to be that but I don't want to marry on your account either."


Victoria's head tilted back, exasperated. "Enough. Farren. You will marry SOMEONE within the year. We must all approve, the elders of this house. If you haven't brought him forward with a proposal in the next six weeks we will proceed with an engagement and wedding to Ambrose. Once you are wed you will take the Mark alongside your husband if he has not already. Thankfully Ambrose is marked and well stationed in out movement already. We will proceed with life in this house and we will proceed with our cause to preserve the family and pureblood heritage. Like it or not you are part of this. If it is reasonable accommodation you demand so be it. Six weeks. Marks on arms. Otherwise you will be wed to Ambrose in ten months."

[Pyxis Abercrombie]

There was nothing but silence, dreaded silence!

His nerves set in once the adrenaline worn off. The Pureblood could feel his hands grow clammy with sweat, and his heart pounded as though he had just run a marathon. Pyxis had spent the past twenty-six years striving for perfection. When the family told him, as a boy, he should be a perfect gentleman he read every book on etiquette their library held. When they told him he should live up to the Abercrombie family's reputation for being intelligent he graduated from Hogwarts with six NEWTs and went on to become one of the most accomplished Legilimens and Occlumens in the country before he turned thirty. When his mother spoke of arranging his marriage one day, Pyxis dutifully resigned himself to a loveless marriage solely for producing the next generation of Abercrombies. Pyxis knew it was needed desperately, even if he was not the heir like Farren, due to the family's dwindling numbers.

The Occlumens had just thrown all that out the window and openly cast his lot with Cousin Farren and her latest bout of rebellion. He had just challenged their wisdom and exposed a weakness he was sure none of the elders would want to acknowledge. How would Spencer react? Was Pyxis to be disowned, tossed out of Dalemain with all chances of gaining the social favour promised earlier lost? Would he be punished in some other manner? Perhaps he would be forced to marry a particularly odious match solely to put him back in his place.

Pyxis' life could now be ruined, and yet he did not regret his actions. Cousin Farren deserved to be happy. She deserved to be with someone who brought joy to her life, someone who would treat her with the respect she deserved. Farren did not deserve to be saddled with two traumatised teenagers who would undoubtedly resent any attempts to replace their mother. She did not deserve to be married to a lewd, political radical who was known for the occasional hot-headed display despite Spencer's attempts to convince them of Ambrose's good nature. The thought of Farren being exposed any further to Lord Voldemort and his psychotic men was unfathomable. A life with O'Dwyer, anything, had to be better than that.

"Thank you Lord Abercrombie" was his simple response to Spencer's cool comment about setting up a meeting with Miss Selwyn. He felt relieved that he wasn't thrown out there and then. Not that Pyxis was naïve enough to assume that was the end of the matter, but he could deal with anything short of disownment when the time came.

The Occlumens winched at the reference to Farren's affair. He had not realised Lord Abercrombie was aware of that particular impropriety. Pyxis had loudly disproved when he had learnt of it from Farren, but the affair was tame compared to the scandal other families were embroiled in, especially since it had remained unnoticed by the press. However, he knew there was no point in pointing that out. An affair with her dead husband's best friend was ill-advised and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

As Spencer continued his rant Pyxis chose to lift his utensils and start to busy himself with the task of eating dinner. His Cousins intent was obvious when Lord Abercrombie lay it out like that, but how could he not see the benefits of Farren's actions? She had played a part in strengthening the ties between their family and others. She had accumulated wealth and more importantly influence, which would one day be yielded by the son they were desperate for her to produce.

Outwardly, Pyxis remained the picture of a composed gentleman as Victoria interjected. However, he was truly horrified by the fact she wished to not only marry his cousin off to a member of her cult but force the mark upon his Cousin? His body stiffened and his genial mask grew cold as he looked to Spencer to assess the patriarch's reaction to Victoria's outrageous demand. It took all of Pyxis' masterful self-control to not argue with the woman. Surely, Spencer would see the foolishness of tying Farren to Riddle's cause! The family needed someone to remain politically neutral in the event Victoria and Farrah's involvement blew up in their faces.

His gaze turned to Farren. His eyes slightly narrowed in disapproval. He used his Legilimency to project to his Cousin the anger and disbelief he currently felt. Pyxis also promised that he would side with her, and he would do whatever it took to ensure her skin remained unblemished.

The Pureblood sighed as he broke the connection and returned to his dinner. He just wanted to leave. He needed a good scotch. The last he projected to Farren as an invitation to join him once this farce was completed. This was not the evening he thought it would be.

[Farren Abercrombie]

Farren inhaled deeply and sighed a long heavy sigh. She turned to look at Pyxis. He appeared to be about as done with the whole situation as she was.


Turning back to her mother she stared at her with an intensity she rarely dared. This wasn't a joke though and it wasn't something she would just shrug off and comply with. Pyxis might be fine and well with being set up with some Death Eater Princess on account of his general disinterest in romantic attachment, but she was not. She was going to marry Declan, as much as her mother would hate that.


"Mother, Grandfather, I simply refuse to comply. Pyxis shall make a fine heir if you can somehow arrange that legally and if my punishment for failing to marry an old man is that Pyxis gets this house and all my money - so be it. But I shant marry Mr. Malfoy for all the gold in our vaults and his."


Laying her utensils down she rose from her chair. "I'll be at home in Belgravia if you'd like," she said to Pyxis. Turning away from the table she walked to the door of the dinning room without so much as saying good bye to the rest of them.