A Game of Cat and Mouse

T W E N T Y S I X

Annie had just settled into her bedroom with a nice cup of chamomile tea—a bit of honey and mint splashed in for good measure—along with a book her mother had recommended to her when there was a rather loud and somewhat aggressive knock on her bedroom door. Startled, some of her tea sloshed over the sides of the porcelain mug decorated with small violets. She hissed in pain from the scalding liquid and gently set her cup on the bed next to a sleeping Perkins.

She grabbed the robe lying on the floor and fumbled for the wand she kept in her pocket. Annie quickly tied it before slowly walking over to the door. This is it, she thought as her heart pounded so loudly in her chest she thought it might have burst out. I'm going to die and I haven't even seen Italy yet.

With her wand poised, Annie opened the door only to reveal a bored-looking James.

Annie visibly sighed and lowered her wand. "You couldn't have said anything? You had to make me think you were a murderer?"

James looked a bit taken aback by her scolding. She supposed being with Elio the past few weeks had made her a little bolder than anyone was used to. Her father still eyed her with a weird look ever since she finally revealed at dinner the other night that she detested carrots after an entire lifetime of pretending to like them.

Her brother glanced down at her wand and smirked. "Annalise, you know that no one can get in the wards. Not even Uncle. So who did you think would be there?"

"I don't know. Spells fail sometimes!"

His smirk widened. "Not father's." She supposed that was true.

Annie huffed. "Well, you could have revealed yourself to me."

"And the point of that would be..."

"To not terrify me when I'm trying to relax!"

James rolled his eyes. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I'm sorry for somehow surprising you when I'm the only one at home and therefore the only possible person it could have been."

Their parents had gone out to Paris for a date night, promising to be back before she woke up on her birthday morning. James—of course—took his position in charge very seriously, bugging her practically every half hour, even when she was in the middle of sleeping. It annoyed her relentlessly.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're horrible at apologies."

James grinned. Annie always liked the way the grey seemed to sparkle "What spell would you have used on me if I was a murderer?"

"I don't know! Expelliarmus?"

"That does nothing. It doesn't even incapacitate them."

"Well maybe I don't want to kill someone or knock them unconscious." Perkins purred in agreement before laying his head back down on the duvet.

Her brother just shook his head. "Sometimes, I don't know how you're a Riddle."

Annie felt her face fall as a lifetime of insecurities rose to the surface. She wasn't as powerful as her father, as beautiful as her mother, as witty as James... the list went on and on. "Annie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that—"

"It's fine," she said softly, looking down as if the tie on her robe were the most interesting thing in the world while she forced her eyes to stop singing. "I know you didn't mean it badly."

"Not at all. I just meant that you're so much better than all of us because you're so diff—"

"It's fine, James," she said a little louder. "What did you want?"