A Game of Cat and Mouse

T H I R T Y F O U R

At Riddle Manor on a sunny July morning, two conversations happened simultaneously. The first was between two boys who partially hated each other but mostly liked each other.

"If you touch her at all—"

"Like I'm not going to touch her! She's my bloody girlfriend, not a nun."

"Fine. But if you don't stay in your separate rooms—"

"Separate rooms? What are you talking about? I stayed in her room here last night!"

The older boy continued as if the younger hadn't spoken. "And if she's in her swimsuit, you must maintain at least fifteen feet in between her."

"And if she's struggling to swim, you want me to let her drown?"

"Of course not! Don't be stupid, Nott."

The younger boy smirked. "Well, then I suppose I have to be within fifteen feet of her for her own good."

James Riddle scowled. "I fucking hate you."

"Oh quit your yapping. You love me. I'm like the brother you never had." Elio Nott grinned and threw his arm around his friend. Up close and personal, it was still impossible to tell who was taller.

"The brother I never wanted," James muttered under his breath before the corner of his lip turned up slightly.

On the other side of the room, a very different conversation was happening. Three women—each extremely beautiful in very different ways—stood closely together. The tall, black-haired woman with beauty reminiscent of a raven clasped a small girl with an expression like a fawn. "Do you have all of your clothes?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"Your swimsuit? Your books?"

"Yes, Mummy."

"What about all your toiletries? Your makeup?"

"Ev, it's Italy, not the Middle Ages. Anything she forgot can be purchased from the Muggle Village. Or I'm happy to apparate and pick up things from home," said the other older woman with eyes like the ocean. Eyes that matched the smirking boy across the room.

"Yeah, Mummy. You've helped me pack for days. I'm sure you've gotten everything."

"What about your grandfather's journal? He brought it by yesterday, right?"

"Yes, Mummy. It's in my bag and yours is in the library." The journal once belonged to the now-perished Lord Voldemort. It was a method of communicating over long distances without the need for patronuses. Annie simply had to write in one journal and her words would appear in the other—a much-needed item for her first international trip.

Evelyn Riddle cupped her daughter's cheeks and smiled. Her pale eyes glistened with unshed tears. "My baby girl's first big trip. You're growing up."

"Mummy, it's just Italy."

"Now, it's just Italy. In a few years, it's a honeymoon." Annie's mother's lip quivered as she pulled her daughter into a tight hug.

"Evelyn, Theodore and I are more than happy to host you and James while Tom is away—" Just the mention of her husband's absence brought on another sob. Annie knew that her father was so focused on finding the vagrant that he didn't always consider how hard his work was on all of them. Tom had been home for only a day before going away again for two weeks. Annie would be spending ten of those fourteen days away in Italy with the Nott family at their Italian villa.

"No, no," Evelyn said, stepping back and composing herself. Her ability to place a thick mask over her emotions seemed like a new kind of magic given how well she was able to do it. Annie wished that she could do it but her heart had always been worn on her sleeve as much as she tried not to.