The Cotillion

“This is not fun,” Alexandra complained, as Maximilian let go of her with an annoyed look.

“If you'd just relax a little,” suggested Julia.

“And do as I say,” Maximilian told her.

“I am relaxing and doing as you say!” Alexandra grumbled.

They were trying to teach her to dance. Alexandra had never been to a dance in her life. The only dancing she had seen was on TV, and Muggle pop star performances did not resemble the formal patterns of a cotillion at all.

“Do you want to look completely hopeless on the ballroom floor?” Maximilian asked her.

“You keep saying that like anyone is actually going to dance with me. How many seventh graders attend a Cotillion, anyway?”

“Not many,” Maximilian admitted. “But there will be a few kids your age. And some boys who aren't so old I'll have to hex them if they come near you.”

“If you don't stop acting like you're my father, I'll dance with someone really old, like eighteen, just to annoy you.”

“That's the spirit!” Julia laughed, but Alexandra's crack about acting like her father caused a shadow to pass over Maximilian's face.

She sighed. “I really think I'm just going to watch you two dance. I don't mind, really.”

“You'll do no such thing!” Julia insisted. She waved her wand, and music once more flowed out of an old device that looked like a phonograph, except that nothing was touching the platter that spun on it.

“You're too tall,” Alexandra complained again, stumbling to match her brother's steps.

“Keep complaining, and I'll have you dance with the house-elves instead.” He took her hand, and made her repeat another chasse with him, while Julia danced with a shadow-partner next to them.

By Saturday, Maximilian was still calling her 'hopeless,' but Julia assured her that she was doing fine. “And Max isn't such a wonderful dancer himself,” she added. “They only have a few weeks of mandatory dance instruction at BMI, as part of their Etiquette & Traditions class.”

Saturday afternoon began the final trial Alexandra had to endure before the Cotillion, as Julia summoned Deezie and Olina to her room, along with Alexandra, and insisted that they were both going to be 'made up' for the evening.

“I told you –” Alexandra protested, but Julia grabbed her shoulders and practically shoved her into a seat in front of her enormous, three-way vanity table. Alexandra's reflections in the mirrors obligingly turned around and tilted their necks this way and that, until Alexandra could see the back of her own head.

“Miss's hair is a bit short,” Olina squeaked, hopping up onto a stool behind her and taking hold of Alexandra's hair, where it hung down not quite to the nape of her neck. “But we can make it very pretty.” The elf's spindly fingers reached around Alexandra's forehead to begin parting her bangs. “A few charms –”

“You don't need to charm my hair!” Alexandra objected.

“We'll add a little bit of color to your cheeks and lips,” Julia said, as next to her, Deezie nodded. “And a Lash-Lengthening Charm. You have such lovely green eyes, we want to accentuate them –”

“No, no makeup!” Alexandra protested. But they spent the rest of the afternoon under the attentions of the two house-elves, while Alexandra continued to argue about what she would and would not submit to, and Julia demonstrated a remarkable ability to overrule her every objection.

Alexandra watched nervously as Olina took scissors to her hair and began magically rearranging it, making it stand up on her head, lie down in layers, or sweep forward while she snipped. Julia sat in front of her, using potions and her wand to do things to her face.

By the time they were done, Alexandra was beginning to feel like one of Julia's dolls. She changed into the gold Clytemnestra Kirk robe, and then Julia finally let her turn around to look at herself in the mirror.

She gasped in shock.

She had feared she'd look like Darla Dearborn, but Julia and the elves had made her over into a more glamorous version of herself. They hadn't used much makeup at all – her lips were redder, her cheeks a little rosier, and her pale complexion had been smoothed over – but Alexandra had never worn any kind of makeup before. Every blemish on her skin had vanished. Her green eyes looked much brighter than usual; thanks to some charm cast by Julia, they almost sparkled. Her eyebrows were thinner and darker. Her black hair now looked silky, framing her face like a model's.

“You're beautiful, Alex!” Julia enthused, kissing her cheek lightly.

“No, you're beautiful. I'm just –” Her voice trailed off. She couldn't deny that the transformation was startling. She stared at the mirror, and a young woman stared back at her. In the matching mirrors to either side, the young woman smiled and winked and preened and tilted her head coyly, in a way Alexandra never could. “This is just... charms. Magic can make anyone look pretty.”

“You do like it, don't you?” Julia looked at her anxiously, until Alexandra smiled.

“Yes,” she said. “Thank you. It's... amazing.” She smiled at Olina, too. “Thank you, Olina. My hair looks great. Everything looks great.”

I really look like a girl, she thought. She wasn't sure exactly what she thought about that – or why her heart was also fluttering and she couldn't take her eyes away from the strangely pretty girl in the mirror, whose reflection smiled, pouted, laughed, and batted her lashes, posing and spinning around to show herself off from all angles, while Alexandra stood silent and motionless.

“Let's show Max,” Julia suggested, and Alexandra's stomach clenched into a knot. She shook her head. She didn't want her brother to see her like this. She wasn't sure she was ready for anyone to see her like this. But once again, Julia dragged her unwillingly out of her room, and called Maximilian, who emerged from his own room wearing his dress uniform. His wand and a sword both hung from a black sash, and a dark blue cape was draped over his shoulders. All the ribbons he'd been awarded at Blacksburg were pinned to his broad chest, just above the black crow, outlined in silver, that occasionally turned its head right or left, and flapped its wings or made grasping movements with its talons. The creases on his sleeves and trouser legs were razor-sharp.

Maximilian regarded his sisters silently, as Julia squealed and ran over to him to wrap her arms around his waist. “Oh, don't we have a handsome brother, Alexandra?” she exclaimed. Maximilian smiled slightly, and put an arm around Julia, still looking at his youngest sister.

“Yeah. You look nice,” Alexandra admitted grudgingly.

He did. Although his being her brother spared her from thinking anything more than that, she was uncomfortably aware of the fact that suddenly she could see exactly what so many other girls apparently did. She turned a little redder, under his scrutiny.

“Be nice, and if you say one evil thing tonight, Maximilian King...” Julia was whispering in his ear, but Maximilian just shook his head.

“You both look fine,” he said. He peeled Julia away from him, and held her arm over her head, spinning her around in a little pirouette, before pressing the back of her hand to his lips. “No witches at the Cotillion will look finer.”

“Honey-tongued blaggard!” Julia replied, but she blushed with pleasure.

Maximilian looked down at Alexandra, and nodded. “You definitely don't look like a Muggle tomboy anymore,” he said softly.

“Wait until tomorrow,” Alexandra retorted, “when I go back to normal.”

“Good.” Maximilian smiled, as Julia sighed dramatically.

“Are we ready to go, children?” Ms. King called from downstairs.

“Oh. There's one thing I forgot,” Alexandra said, and she went back into her bedroom.

At some point, she had decided there was one piece of jewelry she would wear, though she wasn't sure when she'd made the decision, or how. But she opened the drawer where she'd been keeping her personal belongings – her Muggle money, her cell phone, her house key, Diana Grimm's card – and took out the locket her father had given her. Charlie cawed as usual upon spying the golden locket, but Alexandra undid the chain's clasp, and refastened it behind her head, then let the chain settle around her neck. The locket lay against her collarbone, matching the gold of her robe. She looked in the mirror, and then turned to Charlie.

“Do I look all right, Charlie?” she asked.

She'd meant it as a rhetorical question, but Charlie answered: “Pretty bird.”

Alexandra laughed, and leaned forward to kiss the top of Charlie's feathered head. “Stay out of trouble, pretty bird.”

“Troublesome,” Charlie squawked, and then took off through the open window.

The sun was going down as they crossed the sound, and this time, they rode in a larger and fancier carriage, pulled by two Granians instead of a Thestral. Ms. King also cast Windshield and Waterproofing Charms, so that the sea breeze and the ocean spray would not muss anyone's hair or clothes.

A thousand lanterns, candles, and magical lights danced on the streets of New Roanoke as their winged horses brought them past the beach, and hooves and wheels touched down on the wizarding town's cobbled streets. They could see other carriages converging on the same place they were headed towards, some pulled by winged horses and some pulled by ordinary horses, and one by what looked like a gigantic black winged goat. Alexandra saw a few cars as well, traveling along a narrow street parallel to the main avenue leading to a pillared mansion even larger than Croatoa.

“This is the Governor's mansion,” Ms. King announced, as Alexandra stared at the huge building with its marble steps and columns. It was even grander than the Territorial Headquarters building they'd seen the other day.

“Will the Governor-General be there?” Alexandra asked suddenly.

Ms. King pursed her lips, and shook her head. “It's not likely. This is a relatively small event; the Governor-General of the Confederation has better things to do than attend local Cotillions.”

“Even ones hosted by his friend, the Governor of his home Territory?” Maximilian muttered.

Alexandra glanced at Maximilian, wondering if he had ever met Governor-General Hucksteen.

Liveried house-elves greeted each arrival, taking the reins of their horses and leading the carriages around the mansion. The Kings descended regally from their carriage, and Alexandra held her head up and tried to imitate Julia's confident walk.

Thalia King looked glorious, in brocaded purple and gold robes that could have been worn by an empress, and Alexandra couldn't help wondering why such an attractive, powerful, and wealthy witch had never remarried. Maximilian and Julia were both admiring their mother, too. Ms. King smiled at the teenagers. “Shall we enter?”

On either side of the double-doored entrance to the Governor's mansion, Alexandra saw a pair of cloaked wizards dressed in black, except for their red vests. At first glance, they appeared to be standing there motionlessly, but as the Kings came closer, she realized the wizards were doing something with their wands, held in gloved hands and mostly concealed by their cloaks.

“Aurors,” Maximilian muttered. “They aren't usually so worried about security at Cotillions, are they, Mother?”

“No,” Ms. King murmured.

The Aurors seemed to give the Kings, and Alexandra, particular scrutiny as they passed through the doors. Alexandra stared back at one of the men. Their eyes met for a moment, and she thought she saw something flicker there – it might have been apprehension, or it might have been annoyance at being stared down by a teenage girl.

They walked on a red carpet, between marble columns, into an enormous rotunda. Witches and wizards were mingling everywhere; huddled in alcoves or watching from balconies on the two floors above them, or crossing the center of the floor, where dancing had not yet started, to greet friends and acquaintances.

Those just arriving waited in line to be announced, and Alexandra heard a wizard calling the name of each attendee, with a magically amplified voice that boomed throughout the hall.

“JOHN WILLIAM BLAND AND MARJORIE ELIZABETH BLAND!” bellowed the announcer. The Blands both looked very old. Mr. Bland wore a black and green doublet and dark green velvet trousers, beneath a black overcoat, and Mrs. Bland wore a simple dark red and brown Puritan-style dress and bonnet, rather than the fancy robes most of the witches were wearing.

“Remember, Julia, you're worth more than any boy here,” Maximilian said quietly. He looked at Alexandra. “You too.”

“Stop fretting!” Julia whispered back to him.

Maximilian squeezed Julia's hand, as the wizard-announcer, wearing something like an old-fashioned courtier's uniform, with puffy sleeves and pants, and ruffles around his neck, spoke into his wand again.

“GLINDA CLOTHO PARKER AND HENRY AQUARIUS BOLLING!”

Ahead of them, Alexandra recognized the proprietor of Glinda's Good Witch Apparel, holding onto the arm of a handsome wizard (who looked quite a bit younger than her) with his long hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a beautiful, colorful robe that complemented hers. She looked over her shoulder at Alexandra, and winked, as she and her escort proceeded into the hall.

“THALIA AGATHA KING!” called the announcer, as Ms. King stepped forward, and she nodded slightly as a number of people turned their gazes in her direction.

Her children followed her, and Alexandra hung back slightly, as the wizard looked down at his guest list, and read: “MAXIMILIAN ALEXANDER KING AND JULIA MAJESTA KING!”

Julia beamed and waved, and some of the boys in the hall smiled. Alexandra saw a number of teenage girls, and unsurprisingly, many had noticed Maximilian.

She followed her brother and sister, and the announcer called out: “ALEXANDRA OCTAVIA THORN...” He made a startled noise as his voice trailed off and he looked up from his scroll.

The Kings froze, then turned around slowly. Ms. King's eyes widened for a second, and flashed angrily, before she composed herself and looked serene and unruffled once more.

The announcer stared at Alexandra for a moment, and then cleared his throat. “ARAMINTA MELIORA VANBRUGH!” he said hastily.

The twenty-something witch behind her, an attractive brunette wearing one of the Oz-like gowns Ms. Parker had secretly disparaged, looked both horrified and crestfallen, as what she had obviously been intending to be a grand entrance went almost completely unnoticed, because all eyes were focused on the thirteen-year-old in front of her.

Alexandra walked forward, and Ms. King reached out and took her hand.

“Hold your head up,” the older woman whispered kindly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know,” Alexandra whispered back. But she was looking at Julia and Maximilian, wondering what they were thinking. Julia looked worried, uncertain. Maximilian's face was expressionless, until he caught her eye, and with a resigned smile, he nodded, and offered Julia his arm.

The four of them walked into the vast round hall. Hushed voices seemed to be whispering all around them. She saw more of those cloaked Aurors standing in balconies and alcoves, watching them. Conversation gradually went back to normal, but Alexandra could feel the eyes of Roanoke's most prominent wizard families all scrutinizing them, for the rest of the evening.

Alexandra was much more interested in people-watching than in dancing, so it didn't really bother her that, exactly as she expected, no boys had the nerve to approach her. But it was painful to watch Julia standing on the perimeter by herself while other couples danced.

The musicians with their magical, floating instruments went from slow waltzes to fast tangos. Julia didn't go the entire evening without being asked to dance. Now and then one of the braver boys would approach her, and Julia didn't turn any of them down. Alexandra studied the boys who danced with her sister, and was able to divide them into three categories. The first were those she deduced were lower in the wizarding social hierarchy, by their plainer robes and the fact that, like Alexandra, they were obviously unfamiliar with the protocols of wizard cotillions. She wondered if Julia shared her brother's conflicted, contradictory attitudes about Muggle-borns and half-bloods.

The second group were boys clearly dancing with Abraham Thorn's daughter on a dare. They huddled with their friends, whispering amongst themselves, before someone would brave crossing the floor to ask the pretty girl in the indigo robes to dance. Julia was polite, but her face was stiff – she realized what was going on, too. Alexandra saw some of these daredevils heading in her direction, but she deterred them with hostile glowers that made even older boys back away. She didn't want anyone dancing with her on a dare.

The third group was made up of uniformed Stormcrows, and Alexandra had a pretty good idea of who had put them up to asking Julia to dance. When a boy in a BMI uniform with the unstriped sleeves of a 'new wand' approached Alexandra, looking no older than twelve, and utterly terrified, she muttered, “Oh, hell no!” and disappeared into the back of the hall. She slipped between several adults, who parted for her and fell silent as she passed, until she was almost out of earshot. Upstairs, she was able to watch from a balcony, without being bothered by any more of her brother's unfortunate draftees.

Maximilian, for his part, socialized enough to avoid being a wallflower like Alexandra. He danced with a few female Stormcrows, who were dressed in uniforms much like the ones the boys wore, and occasionally he asked some girls who were flirting with him, but Alexandra could see many more girls pointedly turning their backs whenever he walked past. He took no apparent notice of them.

“I think we'll be leaving soon,” said Ms. King behind her, as Alexandra stood on a second floor balcony and looked down at Julia and Maximilian dancing a reel together.

Alexandra turned around to look at the King matriarch. She had stepped out onto the dance floor a couple of times, once with a wizard that had been at the Governor's side earlier, but mostly Ms. King had been out of sight, perhaps not wanting to draw even more attention to her children.

“I guess this wasn't as much fun as Julia was hoping,” Alexandra said.

Ms. King smiled at her, a little sadly. “The Governor was going to launch an inquiry – a formal inquiry, mind you – to find out how your birth name happened to get onto the guest list, rather than the name I sent them. I told him not to bother. I hope you don't mind, but I really don't think it matters just who among your father's many enemies decided to make sure his children were singled out publicly. I am sorry you were made the target, Alexandra.”

Alexandra shook her head. “I'm not ashamed. I'm sorry I was used to hurt Julia and Max, though.”

“It's not your fault. If it hadn't been your name on the guest list, it would have been something else.”

“Like all these Aurors staring at us and following us around? Maybe the Governor should launch a formal inquiry about how that happened? I'm sure that totally surprised him, too.”

Directly across the ballroom, on a balcony on the same level opposite the one where Alexandra and Ms. King stood, a cloaked Auror was standing in the shadows, watching them. Alexandra thought he resembled a bat. She smiled at him and waved. The Auror didn't wave back.

“Tsk.” Ms. King put a hand on Alexandra's, and gently pulled her arm down. “You're quite right, my dear.” She spoke softly. “But please, don't become bitter and angry, not at such a young age. These aren't the greatest indignities you'll ever face, as your father's daughter, and you can allow the unfairness to gnaw at you and consume you, or learn to handle it with grace.”

Alexandra was silent, as Ms. King looked down at her children on the ballroom floor below and smiled wistfully.

“You knew something like this would happen, didn't you?” Alexandra asked quietly.

The other witch turned to look at her, slowly, and then sighed. “It was almost inevitable. I've sheltered them both their entire lives, but that couldn't last forever. Julia was so insistent...” She sighed again. “She's so brave. Both of them are. But I knew this would be a painful lesson.”

Alexandra was quiet a little longer, and then she asked, “Are you ever angry at him?”

Ms. King didn't seem upset, or even surprised, by the question. She took her time before answering it, though.

“I won't say there wasn't a time when handling things with grace wasn't difficult,” she replied at last. “But I had children to take care of, and anger didn't do them any good.”

Alexandra nodded. She looked over the side of the balcony railing again. “Well, Julia is getting to dance some. She must be enjoying it a little.” She hoped that was true, anyway.

Ms. King looked at her a moment, before commenting, “That would make one of you, then.”

Alexandra shifted uncomfortably. “I've never danced before, and none of these boys really want to dance with me, and it's not like I'm going to see any of them again anyway...”

“All the more reason for you to enjoy yourself, my dear. Maximilian probably told you that Cotillions are all about finding a husband. Foolish boy. Cotillions are for socializing, and having a good time. You can dance just for the fun of it, you know.”

Alexandra shrugged, looking down at her feet.

“If I didn't know better, I'd think you're afraid a boy might actually ask you to dance,” Ms. King chided.

Alexandra looked up at her sharply. She saw the bait, but took it anyway. “I'm not afraid!”

“Then don't let Julia and Maximilian believe that they dragged you along unwillingly and that you had a miserable time,” Ms. King replied smoothly.

Alexandra frowned at that, and nodded reluctantly. “All right.”

Ms. King smiled as the girl headed slowly for the stairs. Then Alexandra turned, and said, “I really do appreciate everything, Ms. King. You've been really nice, and I wanted to meet Julia so much, and now that I have, I feel like... like...” Her voice trailed off.

She couldn't complete the thought, but Ms. King spoke gently. “Like you have a sister?”

Alexandra nodded.

Ms. King walked over to her, and wrapped the girl in a soft embrace. “You will always be welcome here, Alexandra.” She kissed her forehead. “Now, go dance!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Alexandra mumbled, and she proceeded downstairs.

Having finally decided to dance, though, she needed to find someone willing to dance with her. She stood there, as Julia had, and waited through two entire movements, but apparently none of the boys who'd been looking to win a bet earlier were still interested.

She didn't see any women anywhere asking the men to dance. The idea of standing around looking lonely until someone took pity on her, or until some boy issued a dare, began to fill her with anger. She knew perfectly well what girls who really wanted to be asked to dance did – they flirted. They giggled, batted their lashes, and leaned forward just so, listening breathlessly to some boy, as if whatever he was saying was just the most fascinating thing in the world. Alexandra had seen it constantly back at Charmbridge – mostly around Maximilian. She saw it here at the Cotillion, too.

The heck with that, she thought, and she marched towards a knot of boys who looked like seventh and eighth graders, all of them leaning against a wall or slouching uncertainly, eyeing girls and working up the nerve to ask one of them to dance.

She made an instant decision and homed in on one of them almost before they realized she was approaching. He was about her height, ginger hair combed into a slick-back hair style, and he wasn't unpleasant-looking, but mostly she picked him because he looked less gangly and sullen than the rest. His robes were green and white, so she thought he looked a bit like a tall leprechaun, but at least he didn't bolt when she walked up to him.

“Want to dance?” she asked.

He stared at her. The other four boys with him stared as well.

“Okay,” he replied, after a beat. He hesitated a moment, then took her hand and led her out onto the floor.

It was at least one of the dances she'd practiced with Maximilian. Her initial assessment had been that this boy wasn't an Old Colonial, but he turned out to be skilled enough. At least he managed not to step on her feet, and she didn't step on his.

They finished the quadrille, and to her surprise, he asked if he could have the next dance as well, a tango. She nodded, though she hadn't practiced tangos at all. What followed was considerably more clumsy, as they tried to follow along with the older dancers, and found themselves stumbling and trying to maintain proper contact without groping each other. She was relieved, and a bit flushed, when that dance finished.

“Thanks,” she said, and started to walk away.

“What, did you lose a bet or something?” the boy asked behind her.

He sounded indignant and a little hurt. She turned around, surprised.

“No. I just thought –” She stopped, and realized that she hadn't even asked his name. “Sorry,” she said. “This is my first Cotillion.”

“Obviously,” he replied.

“My name's Alexandra.” She held out her hand.

“Payton,” he replied, shaking her hand. “Payton Smith.”

“Thanks for dancing with me, Payton.”

“No problem. You seem pretty nice, for a Dark wizard's daughter.”

She opened her mouth, not sure whether to be offended or amused. “What were you expecting?” she demanded.

“I don't know. Not for you to ask a Mudblood to dance, though. So this wasn't on a dare?”

She stared at him. “Of course not! You're Muggle-born? Or half-blood?”

“Important to know just how much Muggle blood I have?” His tone was sarcastic.

“No!” she protested, completely taken aback. “I thought you were a pureblood! I mean, you danced pretty well –”

“Wizards didn't invent dancing, you know,” he said dryly.

“I know that!” She flushed, feeling as if this conversation was getting all turned around. “I'm not pureblood either!”

“Really? I thought Charmbridge was for purebloods only.” Payton's tone softened a little.

“That's not true at all!” she stammered. How did he know she was a Charmbridge student? Obviously, the boys had been talking about her – like everyone else at the Cotillion. “One of my best friends is Muggle-born. I'm practically Muggle-born myself.”

“Is everything all right, Alexandra?”

She turned around, to find Maximilian giving Payton a hard stare. The younger boy stood his ground, but couldn't help looking a bit intimidated.

“Everything's fine, Max.” She almost added, “Go away,” but bit her tongue.

His gaze lingered on Payton, then he nodded. “I've got to find Julia. I think she's tired of dancing. We'll probably be leaving soon.”

“All right.”

Maximilian kept his eyes fixed on Payton a moment longer, then turned and walked away, his cape billowing behind him.

“I guess he doesn't like Mudbloods talking to his sister,” Payton commented.

“He doesn't like any boys talking to his sister,” Alexandra retorted. “And I told you, I'm a 'Mudblood' too.” She turned back to look at the other boy. “You're being kind of a jerk, you know.”

Payton's smug expression faltered.

“Sorry,” he said. “Most kids from rich wizarding families act like us day school students don't belong here.”

“Well, you shouldn't act like you know anything about me just because of my father.”

“Okay.” He nodded, a little abashed. “Maybe I'll see you around.”

“Maybe.” She didn't know when she'd be back in Roanoke again, or whether it was likely she'd ever attend another Cotillion, but she was flustered by now, so she slunk away to watch the crowd from the shadows.

Thus, she was surprised when a few minutes later, someone else approached her. She knew she wasn't exactly invisible – other adults glanced at her now and then, and there always seemed to be an Auror within sight – but no one seemed inclined to bother her.

The man who did was tall and narrow-shouldered, with cold blue eyes and long white-blond hair. He was much older than her, and while not completely unattractive, his teeth were a little too crooked and his nose a little too large for him to be called handsome. He was wearing crimson and blue robes, with several gold chains looped around his neck.

“It's a shame for such a lovely young witch to be hovering by the wall like a ghost,” he said, with a small bow and a flourish of his long robe's sleeves. “Would you give me the honor of a dance?”

Alexandra was a little amused by the wizard's formality, but she wrinkled her nose and replied, “I think you're a little old for me. No offense.”

“None taken.” The man smiled. “And you exercise sound judgment, and are unafraid of being both discriminating and direct, for which I'm very glad. But I would very much like to dance with my daughter.”

Alexandra blinked. She straightened up, and took a step backwards, away from the stranger. “Okay, you're crazy. And you're not my father. Go away or I'll –”

“I'm so pleased you're finally wearing the locket,” he said softly, stepping closer to her and lowering his voice. “You haven't worn it since the night of your thirteenth birthday. Do you remember what I told you then?”

Her eyes widened. She stared at the strange wizard. “How –?”

“I told you that you would have a gift for your birthday, and that we would have the conversation you want to have, when we can speak more freely,” he murmured, now almost looming over her.

“How can you look like someone else?” she whispered. Her eyes darted right and left. “Are you crazy? There are Aurors all over the place!”

He laughed. “Do you think this is the first time I've walked in right under their noses, Alexandra?” He winked at her, and extended an arm. “You haven't learned about Polyjuice Potion at school yet, obviously.”

Hesitantly, she took his arm, and let him lead her onto the dance floor. The wizard band was now playing a slow waltz.

“This is your idea of speaking more freely?” she whispered.

“It's an opportunity to dance with my daughter.”

She was watching the people around them, out of the corner of her eye. Everyone else was watching them, and pretending not to.

“Don't the Aurors know about Poly-Potions?” she asked. Her face was practically pressed against his chest, and she was trying to keep her voice almost inaudible, but he chuckled aloud.

“Of course they do. And they also know spells for listening to whispered conversations from across a crowded ballroom.” She jerked upright at that and stared at him, and almost whipped her head around to try to spot the nearest Auror, but he gripped her arms tightly and murmured, “Calm down, my dear. Don't look so panicked.”

She breathed in and out several times, as they continued to rotate and step in time to the waltz. The Aurors watching the dance floor were indeed staring at them. She could see the expression on the face of the nearest Auror – he looked rather taken aback, but none of them approached the young girl and the much older man.

“I'm better than they are,” Abraham Thorn said, once she was looking at him again.

“So we can talk, and no one else can hear us right now?”

“They'll hear me engaging in harmless flirtation, and you giggling.”

She scowled at him. “I don't giggle.”

“Don't scowl, my dear.”

She continued scowling. “Maybe you should dance with Julia. Do you know how much she was looking forward to this night? And now everyone is pointing and whispering, and Maximilian has to bully younger boys into dancing with her...”

“Because of me. And a spiteful old political opponent who's forgotten my warning, long ago, never to involve my children.” Her father's borrowed face darkened, for a moment, and it was frightening to behold. “He will remember, soon.”

“Cursing some tool isn't going to make Julia feel better,” Alexandra told him quietly.

He looked down at her, and smiled. “Clever and wise. I'm so happy to see my children together, and you and Julia becoming fast friends. And Thalia has welcomed you into her home, as I knew she would.”

“You still owe me a lot of answers. And speaking of clever, I notice you have a habit of changing the subject whenever I start asking questions.”

He nodded slowly. “I take it Claudia's answers didn't satisfy you?”

“She didn't give me any answers. She said she didn't want to talk about you, or the wizarding world.” Alexandra looked down. “She thinks I'm a freak. She hates that her daughter is a witch.”

“I'm sure she didn't say that.” He cupped his hand beneath her chin, and tilted her head up towards him.

“She didn't have to.” Alexandra's expression, for a moment, became fearsome too. “What did you do to her?” she hissed. “Why does she hate you, and me, and the wizarding world, so much?”

It was the first time she ever saw her father look away. Even wearing someone else's face, it was clearly not something he was used to.

They twirled and separated, then came back together, giving him a moment to compose himself.

“I abandoned her,” he said simply. He looked Alexandra in the eye. “I allowed her to see the wizarding world, because she wanted to see it, and then I told her that she could never be part of it, that wizards and Muggles don't mix, and that I couldn't stay with her. And that someday, my child would leave her world and join mine, and there was nothing she could do about it.”

Alexandra stared at him. “You made her hate me,” she whispered.

“Claudia does not hate you, Alexandra. You know better.”

“Why would you tell her those things?” Alexandra was struggling to keep her voice from rising.

“So that she would abandon all thought of ever being part of my life, or this world. It was better for her that way.”

“Really? Better for her, or easier for you? What about what was better for me? If wizards and Muggles don't mix, why did you mix with her in the first place?” Alexandra asked angrily.

“I do not like your tone, young lady. I am willing to endure much from you, but not disrespect – towards me, or Claudia.”

“Oh, you want respect!” she hissed. “Or what? You'll curse me?” A second later, she wondered if she'd gone too far, as his eyes flashed and she could feel a chill spreading over her skin and making her shiver from head to toe.

Then the wave of dread faded, and he smiled, a little less warmly. “I'm being very patient, Alexandra.”

Shaken, but seized with a sudden fury that only made it harder for her to express herself, Alexandra struggled to find words, wanting to say something poignant and meaningful, and not sound like a petulant child. But she could only stare at her disguised father, as the waltz ended, and she realized she had no idea what to say.

“I was patient for twelve years,” she muttered, and gave him a sarcastic curtsy, then spun around and stalked away.

She felt foolish almost as soon as she turned her back on him. She still had things to ask him, and she knew she hadn't handled herself in the cool, mature manner she always had in her imagined conversations with her father. She walked to one of the exits, and looked at the two Aurors standing there, regarding her with flat expressions, and just shook her head and turned around. But she couldn't see the man she'd danced with anymore. A few minutes later, Maximilian found her, and asked, “Have you had enough of dancing yet?”

She nodded.

He smiled wanly. “Good. Our carriage will be out front shortly.” He offered her his arm. “Julia is with Mother. I hope this wasn't too unpleasant for you.”

She thought about her conversation with Ms. King, and watching Julia dance, and briefly, her dance with Payton Smith. Now why would that make her face feel warm all of a sudden? “It was all right. I saw you dance with a few girls. But let me guess – none good enough to be the future bride of Maximilian Alexander King?”

He laughed sourly, as she took his arm. “Come on, wicked little sister. Let's go home.”

Julia was mostly quiet on the ride back to Croatoa – not her usual bubbly self, though she insisted that she had had a good time, and that she didn't care if all of Roanoke now knew who her father was.

“Some boys were nice,” she said. But Alexandra, in the brief time she'd known her, had learned to read her half-sister's face, and knew that she'd been hurt and disappointed.

The house-elves fawned over them, back in the mansion, and asked who they'd danced with, and whether the Governor's house-elves were well-bred, and, to Alexandra's surprise, they even asked, with winks and elbows directed at one another, whether any of the children had found 'sweethearts' at the Cotillion.

Alexandra wanted to warn them not to pester Julia with questions like that, except she was sure the guilt would be overwhelming if the poor elves realized how much such innocent inquiries stung their young mistress.

“It was lovely, really. Did you have a good time?” Julia asked, as she applied a potion to Alexandra's face that made all of the makeup and charms evaporate. She waved her wand, and in the mirror, Alexandra saw her hair suddenly go loose and straight again, as the charms Olina had put on it dissipated.

“Yeah,” Alexandra replied. She decided not to mention their father. “It was really interesting.” That much was true.

“Did you dance with any nice boys?” Julia asked, with a small smile, now undoing her own cosmetic charms.

“Yes.” She thought of Payton again. He had been nice enough. “But don't get too excited – I didn't 'find me's a sweetheart.'” She imitated Nina's voice.

Julia laughed. She turned and gave her a sister a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. “I'm glad. I was afraid you'd just skulk about all evening, afraid to discover that you might actually enjoy dancing with boys.” Alexandra blushed, and Julia yawned. “Oh, but I'm tired now!”

Alexandra nodded. Whether because she was tired, or for other reasons, Julia clearly didn't want to stay up talking tonight. “Me, too. I'll see you tomorrow.” She hesitated, and then gave Julia a quick peck on the cheek back. Julia smiled at her, as she left her sister's room and returned to her own.

She hadn't been lying. She was tired. But she didn't really feel like sleeping. She took off the locket and laid it on the desk in front of her, and stared at it for a long time, while Charlie hopped from one shoulder to the other, not quite daring to snatch it out from beneath Alexandra's nose, but clearly coveting the shiny thing.

If she closed her hand around it, she wondered, would she hear her father's voice? And did she want to?

Eventually, she peeled off the Clytemnestra Kirk robe, put on her pajamas, and crawled onto the canopy bed, and fell asleep there, without even sliding under the covers.

When she awoke, it was still dark. She was under the covers, though, and when she lifted her head, she could see that the shiny gold robe, which she'd left slung over the back of a chair, was gone.

Deezie, she thought. Then she heard again the flapping sound that had woken her up.

“Charlie?” she whispered. From the cage hanging by her bed, Charlie made a soft warbling sound, annoyed at being disturbed. Charlie wasn't the one flapping around.

She rose from her bed and walked to the window, which she'd left open in case Charlie wanted to go outside. The lights around Croatoa were out, now, but it was a starlit night, and Alexandra saw something dark gliding through the air, down the hill towards the woods. Although she could not make out much more than a brief silhouette, Alexandra knew that shape intuitively.

“Hagar,” she whispered.

Behind her, Charlie croaked in alarm, and then Alexandra saw another shadow moving away from the mansion, this one on foot.

She could only see his back, and he was wrapped in a black cloak, making him a mysterious silhouette like Hagar, but Maximilian too, Alexandra knew on sight. He was following his father's familiar, down the hill and into the woods.

Alexandra stared, watching her brother until he was almost out of sight, and then, without thinking about what she was doing, she ran to the huge closet where Deezie had hung her clothes, and found a casual robe she could throw on quickly, a cloak, and her boots. She dressed hastily, and then held up a finger and whispered, “Shh!” admonishingly, as Charlie began fussing.

She didn't know how Maximilian had snuck out of the house. The house-elves seemed to sense whenever any of the humans were moving around, no matter the time of day, and she doubted she'd be able to talk Deezie into letting her leave, without telling Ms. King. She looked at the window, and bit her lip.

She'd once jumped off the roof of her house, when she little, and her magic had allowed her to land safely. But last year, she'd tried the same stunt from her second-floor window at Charmbridge Academy, and broken her ankle.

She walked to the window and looked down. Not as high as the fall from her dorm room window at Charmbridge, but plenty high enough to break an ankle again.

Charlie squawked as Alexandra climbed onto the window sill and perched there.

“Shh!” she admonished again. She took out her wand, and began composing a rhyme in her head.

She really hoped her 'doggerel verse' worked this time; she didn't know a proper Falling Charm.

Taking a deep breath, she said:

“I'm not a bird, I can't fly,
but I'm not really up so high.
So just one hop, and then I'll be
on the ground... one... two... three!”

On the count of three, she jumped.

Maximilian had said witches didn't get killed by mundane accidents. But Alexandra knew from experience that witches weren't immune to gravity.

Except when they were. She landed on the ground, still holding her wand, and stood up slowly. She lifted one foot and wiggled her ankle, then the other. Nothing hurt. She grinned in triumph.

Charlie was still perched up on the sill. She waved a hand, beckoning the bird. “Come on, Charlie!” she whispered.

Charlie flapped down to her, landing on her shoulder.

“Now, don't make any noise,” she commanded. And she pulled the cloak around herself, and began hurrying downhill, following after Maximilian.