Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Christmas Eve, 1973

The Carrow Family Estate.

Christmas Eve, 1973.

It's the most lavish holiday party one could possibly imagine, though the Carrow Estate has witnessed countless such events before, just as it will continue to see a great many more in the future.

Their nearly one thousand year old ancestral home dripping from ceiling to floor with the unmistakable signs of high luxury and gothic opulence, tonight the entire place is decorated as a frosty, enchanted winter wonderland. And absolutely everything - everything from the parquet flooring to the flatware - every single detail is perfectly crafted to serve as a demonstration of the family's mind-boggling wealth and clout.

Efforts like this are hardly unique to the Carrows, though. In fact, it's exactly what's expected; what's demanded. And all of the families assembled here play the same game. If they were the ones hosting, they'd have done the very same.

Naturally, this evening's party goers are an elite list of high society revellers, a group carefully curated so as to only include members of their exclusive, at times downright incestuous circle. Assembled here are members of the sacred twenty eight; the pure-blooded wizarding royalty of the world.

As the night progresses and as dinner concludes, the adults retreat behind closed parlour doors to conduct their endless political machinations. Machinations that are guised rather cleverly behind the veil of continued partying. But what's ostensibly a celebration is really pure politics. And this event is just another battleground in their game, a near constant struggle to assert dominance over one another and to create mutually beneficial alliances. And as the adults occupy themselves in this pursuit, their children - their heirs - are set loose and given free reign of the third floor of the mansion.

The third floor: the family's private residence wings. A gilded labyrinth of corridors, each dotted with gold-covered door knobs that lead to room after room after room.

The adolescent children, having spent nearly half an hour debating amongst one another, finally decide to play a game of hide and seek. And in the chaos that ensues, amongst darkened halls lit only by the faint glow of tapered candles hanging high above in ancient candelabras, they scatter.

As a family ghost flits up and down the halls, the portraits begin frowning and hissing disapprovingly at the raucous laughter and shouting of the children scampering to and fro.

In an empty stretch of hallway, two of them run directly into one another.

"Here! Come with me. This way!"

It's with the softest of whispers as the short blonde witch reaches out and interlaces her fingers with those of one of her best friends, a handsome little boy with the large grey eyes and the curly jet black hair.

"Where to?"

Flashing him a serene smile, the girl's eyes widen hopefully, "... Let's skip this nonsense and find a place to call our own, yes?"

A relieved smile as he squeezes her hand approvingly, "Yes, please. Always."

As Pandora and Regulus dip in and out of the shadows on their way down the hall, they happen across a large marble statue. Here they slow because of the shadowy figure of someone they both recognise crouched down behind it.

"Amy."

He's looking especially miserable, something abundantly clear to the two of them even in the dim light of the corridor. Knees tucked up to his chest, he presses his body against the base of the statue as he stares up at the two of them shyly.

"Something wrong, Amy?"

"Lost track of my sister. She always wanders away at parties."

Kneeling down to meet his friend, Reggie just shakes his head, "Well she can't be very far, right?"