We come from the land of the ice and snow

[Luke Bennett]

"Come on, you old piece," Luke plead. The radiator in his truck was old; and the automobile itself was even older. The twenty-two year old had sworn up and down that he would squeeze every penny out of the hunk of junk. His parents didn't understand his attachment to the 1987 Ford Bronco. The radio was scheiße, the air conditioning had never worked and the thing boasted more miles than a flight attendant.

It was a long drive to Churchill, Manitoba, but Luke had insisted on the scenic route. He was king of the road when no one else was around. The blond preferred the hours to being stuffed up and airsick on a plane. He could go wherever the hell he wanted when he was behind the wheel.

Now, he was beginning to have doubts. He didn't want to have to stop at some out-of-the-way motel again because his heater was being stubborn. Julie and Tristans' was just a half-hour or so away.

Luke donned a hat with earflaps, gloves and a thick jacket. Considering where he was born, he normally had no problem with the cold. The climate here was just beyond uncomfortable.

Verbal abuse progressed to physical. Luke smacked the dashboard, attempting to bash the heat source into submission. He was so sucked into the violent swearstorm against his truck that the road became second priority. It wasn't like there was anything out here, anyway. The odds of crashing into a polar bear seemed pretty skinny.

 

[Isabella Ormonde]

Isabella was worn down and utterly exhausted, time and again she apparated from one place to another. Always something there reminding her of Izaak, always feeling the pain of his betrayal so acutely that she instantly apparated away once more. This seemed such a crazy solution to her situation but once the anger had abaited all she had been left with was the cold stark loneliness inside her. The constant moving around was not helping to ease it in any way but it was giving her something to do, to keep her mind from drifting relentlessly back to where her heart yearned to be, begged to be but the rest of her had cried enough. He had been unfaithful to Alexis with her so perhaps she should have known that at some point it would happen to her too. What had made her any different?

Exhausted, hungry and worn out she reapparated on a empty road in the middle of nowhere. Looking about her she realized she was shivering uncontrollably, plumes of smoke rising before her as her breath hit the cold frigid air. Dressed only in a trouser pants and light blouse, with the slimmest of pumps on her bare feet Bella was dressed perfectly for New Zealand but not for this. Shivering she decided to simply apparate out once more when her foot slipped on a patch of ice and she fell. Her wand slipped from her pocket and rolled down the embankment while she lay in a cold bundle on the road side. The only splash of color on the picturesque snow scene was the prone body of the beautiful young veela and her blood that seeped out from where her head had slammed hard against a rock.

 

[Luke Bennett]

It seemed that Luke was destined to freeze. He'd be an icicle by the time he got to Julie and Tristan's, or rather, a man-sicle. Giving up, he was content to mutter threats and insults as he turned his attention back to the road. Chances were, he'd have to dump this rust-bucket and take some other form of transportation back home. He wasn't looking forward to sacrificing the truck to the garbage dump, but old Fordy would have to accept the terms of a grim fate.

His eyes narrowed at the sight on the roadside. At first he thought he was suffering delusions. Closer inspection revealed a body. Holy poop. He slammed on the brakes, his tires squealing angrily.

Please just let it be a mannequin, he thought, his features speaking of nothing less than desperation. The young muggle opened the door and hopped out. His truck was left to idle on the roadside. Anyone who passed through would have to deal with it.

He raced to what turned out to be a woman. A very gorgeous woman. Her attractiveness registered before the fact that she was out cold, in no type of clothing for this environment and that blood stained the snow beneath her.

Luke fell to her side, his hands wandering for a pulse before he registered that her skin was still warm and the blood fresh. His guts played Twister while his mind played Clue. No sane human would be out in this cold dressed like that, much less on the road by themselves. This had to be a murder. Or attempted murder, at least. They had to get the hell out of here.

Bringing a cell phone had been his last priority. And being the dolt that he was, he had forgotten it. He did his best to hold her up, trying to figure out the best way to carry her.

 

[Isabella Ormonde]

In a daze she felt herself being lifted and part of her was convinced she was dreaming. The face she saw before her was none that she knew, she was almost certain of that and yet she felt certain of nothing at all. Her right hand reached up to touch his face before flopping down once more across her body. The wound on her head was deep enough and the blood that spilled had been substantial yet all that could be hoped for now was that the young man who had discovered her had done so in time.

Vivid pictures played in her head like a kaleidescope of color, a man's face kept reappearing again and again with horrific regularity but she could not place him, could not put a name to any of the faces she saw. Her eyes opened once more to look upon the man attempting to help her but his face had not been in any of the ones she had seen. A haze shut her vision, clouded everything completely and she was left unconscious again.

 

[Luke Bennett]

Luke was startled by the sudden movement, stopping dead when she reached for his face. Her eyes were impossible to escape, labyrinths that he would be all too happy to get lost in. And like that they closed again. She was going to be all right. She had to. Looking uneasily around him and seeing no madman with an axe, he tore open the passenger door.

He placed her in the seat, doing his best to recline the back without jarring her around too much. Peeling off his coat, he placed it over her torso carefully. She needed it more than he did. Closing the door, he ran around, hopping back into the vehicle.

The blond reached into the glove box, pulling out a first-aid kit. Band-aids and tweezers went flying out as he attacked the gauze. He unwrapped it, pressing the stuff to her head. It would have to do for now. He was no medic.

Shivering and swearing, he gazed down the road ahead. Shakily buckling himself in, he shifted gears and slammed on the gas pedal. He had directions for only one place, and he doubted there were any hospitals close by. His destination was thirty minutes away. But this woman might not have thirty minutes.

They would be there in ten.

 

[Isabella Ormonde]

She could feel her body being lowered and wanted to call out that her head hurt but no words came out. Nothing other than a groan as she felt fingers press something against her head. Her silver grey eyes flickered open for another second and she saw the same face as the one she had seen through a haze moments before though it felt somehow like a life time ago. She could do nothing else but lie there shivering, her body near blue with the cold but at least someone had put something warm on her. The smell from it was comforting and before she fell into another state of consciousness she smiled.

Another haze seemed to teleport her mentally through folds of deluge, she could not begin to fathom the images she was being shown but somehow her mind was trying to tell her they were important. An image of Izaak, of Cassie, of Sakura and Yema, of her parents, of Boris and even of Goia but soon the images like the names attached to them faded and her mind became nothing more than a puddle of grey murk for her to delve about in frantically. The only image left that she could grasp was the illusive face of a blonde haired man.

 

[Luke Bennett]

Luke was lucky the driveway was cleared out; he would've plowed into a snowbank otherwise. Old Fordy was definitely running on its last cent. Cutting the ignition, he glanced over to the woman. She wasn't in the greatest condition, but she was alive. At this point, only magic would be able to provide a quick fix.

Cussing out the cold, he leaped from the truck once again. He could really care less if his luggage froze out here. The woman was a different matter entirely.

The young man felt the stirrings of an old schoolboy crush, though he did not know the source. There was something about this woman- even in such a miserable state and with her head cracked open, of all things- that made the butterflies dance. This was obvious in his blush as he hoisted her into his arms again. She seemed more a doll than human. He would have to be careful not to break her.

His calves burned as he charged up to the house, doing his best to keep her still. Luke didn't bother to knock. Entering the house, he bellowed, "Someone, HELP!" He didn't feel yelling "Fire!" would be appropriate.

 

[Isabella Ormonde]

Slowly she began to come too again, her head was leaning against something warm and comfortable. The scent was familiar to her though in her weakened state she was only recognizing the smell from the coat to that of the man and not understanding this. While one hand was lying across her, the other was simply hanging limply. It was this hand that came up slowly now and touched the chin of the person carrying her. Her eyes opened once again, willing herself to focus she recognized the face somehow. It was kind and gentle and she found herself glad to see him once more. The blue eyes of the man stayed with her as she wavered in and out of consciousness again. She could hear a voice screaming for help and before the world went dark once more, Bella wondered who was in trouble.

 

[Julie Bennett-Drage]

Julie was busy in the kitchen. It was one of many cookie making days she had planned with the kids between now and the holidays. Even though the family resided in Canada, they still celebrated American Thanksgiving more than the Canadian one. It was just the way that Julie was raised and wanted to maintain her background for her kids. Not that they didn't celebrate with the Canadian one, but upon her insistence, the family celebrated both. They were a few weeks apart anyways so she really didn't feel bad with doing two holidays.

The kitchen was starting to smell wonderful as they were baking the first of the cut out cookies, turkeys and pumpkins in this batch. The kids were busy around the table cutting out stars and Christmas trees from the dough she just rolled out for each of them. It was loud and warm, but the kids were getting along for a change and Christian seemed to be adjusting well to his new home. Goia, well, the elf was annoying to Julie but she had found her own ways of getting back at him. The fact that the elf would listen to only his young master was not lost on Julie at all. From time to time, when the little creature was really on her nerves, she would send Christian after him with a pair of socks or one of Elijah's t-shirts. She might be a muggle, but she was not stupid and knew just how to play the game.

Nastasia seemed to finally have settled in as well. Julie and the younger woman got along fairly well, despite the fact that Julie had not wanted her there at all. She had not seen the need for a nanny for Christian, or any of the kids, but now that she was there, she was not about to give her up. It was nice to be able to run out to the store without having to take all the kids along with her. Right now, the younger woman was helping with readying the guest room for Luke to stay in. Julie was excited to see her cousin. The young man was always enjoyable to be around, well, now that he had finally grown up. He was due to arrive at any point, and the excitement in the kids was palpable. They loved his visits too. It was easy enough to deal with the younger two -- they were upstairs napping with Tristan in their large bed. She had been grateful that they had planned on making cookies during the afternoon. The other three were well entertained with that activity.

Suddenly, there was a voice yelling for help from the front rooms. "Luke?" she responded cautiously as she set the pan down that she was just pulling from the oven. Grabbing a towel to wipe her hands as she exited the kitchen, Julie entered the living room to find her cousin carrying a young woman into the house. The woman was unconscious in his arms as she raced forward. "Luke! What happened? Put her on the sofa," she ordered. Instantly, Julie went into work mode. Her job as a nursing assistant at the local hospital was coming in very handy right now. She grabbed a blanket to warm the young woman off of the chair, ready to cover her as soon as Luke put her down.

 

[Eliza Bennett]

Eliza was in a grumpy mood. She hated having to be around her 'brothers' most of the time, and today was no exception. Erik was being a brat, showing off his new broomstick and how he could fly on it. The fact that she was not able to make the stick move at all drove her nuts, and gave Erik more to laugh at. She was so sick of this whole magic thing and usually glared at the boys when they would make things happen. Once, she thought she had made her doll shoes come to her, but really it was Erik making things move around her.

Cutting out cookies with her mom was always a favorite activity of hers, and she was not really happy about sharing it with Erik and Christian. Resigned to the fact that she had no choice in the matter. As they worked, she started to smile a bit, even started to goof around with her brothers. They really weren't that bad, and the fact that they had magic and she didn't really wasn't their fault. But, whenever they were being jerks about it, she would certainly hold it against them.

Picking up two globs of cookie dough while her mom's back was turned to the oven, she threw them at the boys' faces just as she heard Luke yelling from the front door. Eliza was excited to see her favorite cousin, well, outside of Annika. She took off after her mother and was stunned to see him carrying a bleeding woman into their house. She stopped short, watching what was going on from her spot.

 

[Erik Drage]

Erik Drage was no neat freak. He had no issue with the flour and dough coating his fingers. It was a sad day when he suffered without a streak of dirt or a scrape to the knee. He was often in trouble at school; his class couldn't seem to handle his loud mouth and fondness for roughhousing. Learning came in second to having fun. Of course, his behavior earned him a share of groundings and time-outs.

The six year old loved having another boy around. Christian was big enough to wrestle and play other games with his brother. Erik didn't like playing with Eliza all the time, as she was often grumpy and could still kick his butt if she wanted to.

Erik pressed the cutter to the dough, peeling away a turkey. Grinning madly at Christian, he waited until his stepmother turned to the oven before biting the head off the shape as if he were a monster.

Unfortunately, Eliza took advantage of this same opportunity to splat his face with cookie dough. "FART KNOCKER!" he hollered after his sister, trying in vain to rub the dough off of his face. It was soon all over, more of a mess than it had been. Oh well. He would get over it.

The boy would have been more than happy to get revenge on Eliza, but then he thought better of it. He'd just gotten his broomstick back, after all.

He giggled as he took a handful of dough and smeared Christian with it instead. Then he heard yelling. Looking at his brother, he jumped off the chair. "Come on, Chris. Let's see what's up."

Erik then ran into the hallway, his eyes bugging out of his head. A few moments passed before his inevitable reaction.

"She's bleeding!" he shouted, "That's so COOL!"

 

[Christian Drage-Dolohov]

Christian was no longer shy around this family, in effect his family. He found them all quite literally amazing and loved the differences every day from the magical world to this where everything was done by hand. There was no wave of a magic wand by any of the grown ups to do things like washing up or baking or making a bed. It was all done not by house elves either, though Goia wanted to do them all if possible but Julie basically did everything. He thought she was literally full of her own type of magic for being able to do this and every minute he spent around her, she grew in his affections.

He simply adored his siblings here, especially Erik. Eliza was ok as well and the babies were just babies pretty much like Vixen but Nassie took care of his sister and made sure she did everything she could to help Julie out about the place, though she always felt as if she were standing on the other woman's toes. But she had a way with children that seemed to help her out in this world and though Christian knew he should be missing his mother terribly, he had pushed it all to the back of his mind. It was only late at night he would wake in a bog of sweat and scream out for her. Goia was always there though, which always helped.

Christian even found it hilarious that Julie would make him chase Goia about the house with socks and stuff, it was like a game now. So that at times when he wanted his own way and Goia would not let him, he dangled a sock now in front of him. He was still too young to understand the concept of the sock to his house elf though. Making cookie dough with his brother and sister was lots of fun and with Erik's help he was learning lots of new words, the majority of them all had to be called to their sister for some reason but this didn't bother him because she was a girl and apparently girls were stupid.

He was majorly confused by this concept too because after all Estrella, his mother, Julie, Nassie were all girls and none of them were stupid. The best he could come up with was girls were until they grew into women and then they were just awesome. He roared with laughter as Erik called Eliza a fart knocker, his sides almost splitting with pain from it all when his brother chose then to smear some of the dough on his face. Christian could only continue to laugh as he peeled the dough off, it was delicious whether it was in the bowl or on his face.
"Danks Ewik" he giggled when all the yelling started. He didn't jump from his chair as his brother did but slid himself down carefully. After all he was much younger and the distance looked much greater for him.

He raced off after Erik only to see a man carrying a woman and blood all over the back of her head. His mouth opened wide, she was awfully pretty and all he could do was stand there with his mouth open wide staring at the scene before him.

 

[Luke Bennett]

Luke had quite the sense of direction for only being in this dwelling a handful of times. Carefully, he set the woman on the couch, as if he were placing a porcelain doll on a bed of rocks. He ignored the kids; he might have even laughed at them in some other situation, but this was not an appropriate time for jokes. The only proper course of action was to obey Julie and nothing else. The woman's life might depend on it.

"She- I-" He couldn't seem to help his attraction to her, something that had grown out of nothing. Why was her beauty the one thing he could focus on? She hadn't even spoken to him and he already had a mush-mouth. It took a moment for his tongue to readjust to his voice. Even then, it was shaky. "I found her on the side of the road. I don't know how the hell she got there, but she was like this when I got to her. None of the right clothes. Nothing with her at all." The woman's attire was more appropriate for a July day.

The blond had no breath to spare. Showing his blood stained fingers, he added, "She hit her head on something. I don't know if she has much time."

 

[Julie Bennett-Drage]

Julie used the towel on the wound, wiping the excess blood from the area. Taking a look, she knew that it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked. Thankfully, head wounds tended to be big bleeders, but if caught in time, they weren't as bad as they looked. She noticed that the cut seemed to be about two inches long. Pressing the towel to the wound, she turned to look at Luke. "She will be okay. Gonna have one heck of a headache though," she said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. She wasn't totally sure that the girl wouldn't have further damage, but she knew that it wouldn't kill her.

"Tristan!" she yelled over her shoulder, hoping that he was awake and not snoozing with the kids. "Honey I could use your help!"

 

[Tristan Drage]

"Make the house elf do it." When it came to sleep, Tristan had been a terror in his younger years. Four-and-a-half decades had brought no change. He kicked and tossed, muttered and cursed as his eyelids slid apart. It took him hours to wake up, and throughout that period he was not the most jovial of characters.

The man sensed an urgency in his wife's voice. He wasn't fooled this time, though; the last time she'd used that voice, she'd conned him into going to the store for more toilet paper. Emergency, his backside. With a heaving sigh, he took his time, rolling from the bed and to his feet. Evan and Elijah held their tickets to dreamland, she in the bed and he in a crib. They would be fine for now.

Groaning and yawning, the man scratched and stretched to complete his post-nap ritual. His bare feet dragged along the carpet. Forgetting that Christian's nanny and grumpy-ass house elf were staying in the house, Tristan left the room bare from the waist up. He sported only a pair of loose jeans. Wand in hand, he was down the stairs in a second and strolling into the living room.

Whatever smart-aleck comment he had conceived never left the birth canal. He stared at the gorgeous woman on the couch, unconscious by the looks of it. Immediately, he wanted to help her. Seeing her hurt caused him emotional pain. He didn't understand why this was happening. His eyes smeared with glaze, he trudged forward, falling to his knees and observing her.

"What happened?" he asked much later than was appropriate. His voice was distant, his expression dopey. He found himself befuddled in enchantment, forgetting himself and the fact that his wife was right next to him.

 

[Isabella Ormonde]

A slight whimper escaped her as she was lowered, as pale as she looked now because of the blood loss it detracted nothing from her beauty and seemed to render the veela within her more potent as the males clambered around. She tried desperately to open her eyes, a voice in her head seemed to call her yet she could not hear the name properly and refused to go to the sound. The voice was so familiar though, as if deeply loved but as suddenly as the voice had come it was gone again and in it's stead was the faint whisperings of others. Voices she did not know at all, her eyes flickered open briefly as if needing to see something or someone familiar. She saw the blue eyes and her hand reached for him, needing to hold on to what she knew or thought she knew because it all seemed so vague, such a fog. Everything was just out of her grasp, her consciousness would not allow her to hold on to anything. Slowly her eyes closed once more, perfect pools of silver grey orbs that had dazzled for a moment burnt out as the darkness engulfed her again.

 

[Christian Drage-Dolohov]

Christian watched fascinated as the beautiful woman was put down on the sofa and Julie began to clean her head. He frowned slightly because now his view of her was disrupted and when his father came down it was so much worse. His father seemed to want to have her all to himself. Christian stomped his little foot and marched over with the grim determination of a small boy. Pushing at his father so he could get closer he smiled at her brightly as for a moment she opened her eyes but it was only to look up at uncle Luke and not him. With tiny fists bunched on to his hips he glowered at them all.
"She's mine, I saw her first".

 

[Julie Bennett-Drage]

Julie looked up at her husband as he knelt down next to her. He looked so...odd, like he was drugged again or something. "Luke found her on the side of the road. She has a head lac." Watching his face, he didn't seem to register what she was saying. "Hello! Earth to Tristan!" she practically shouted, snapping her fingers in his face, a rather annoyed look on her own face. Tristan was going to be in for it later on. Julie was confident in her relationship with her husband, but still, she was a rather jealous creature. She knew how amazing looking Tristan was, and that dopey look on his face was not helping her to reign in her feelings. "Want to get your wand and fix this? NOW?" She was able to maintain her voice from yelling outright at her husband, keeping her tone calm, but with a sense of urgency. He would be easier to deal with later in private.

Then Christan came closer and she couldn't help but wonder what the heck was going on. "Christian, dear, can you grab me a new towel from the kitchen? I think the young lady here would be so grateful if you did." Julie knew her youngest stepson was going to grow up to be a ladies' man, even at this precious young age he was showing signs of it. He loved to claim the affections of any pretty woman in the room, and this injured blonde was no exception it seemed.

 

[Nastasia Caliburn]

She had finally gotten Vixen down for her mid-day nap and was all set to tidy up when she heard Julie call for Tristan. Wondering if she could be of any assistance to her, Nastasia left the room quietly after flicking on the switch to the monitor. Carrying it's replica down with her, she attached it to her belt in complete awe by the technology that would allow her to hear Vixen cry through the little box from another part of the house altogether. She had no reason to rely on Goia at all and was grateful to Julie for the loan of them.

As she entered the sitting room she saw a whole host of the family members gathered around the sofa and wondering what could be wrong walked over slowly. Only to see a young woman obviously hurt lying there. Quickly she walked over to Christian and picked him up.
"I'll take the children outside to play" she smiled rolling her eyes affectionately as Christian squirmed in her arms demanding to be put down that he had to take care of the lady. That Julie had asked him to get a towel and if he didn't stay, his daddy and uncle Luke and Erik would all get her instead.

Nastasia stared in wonder at him but shaking her head gently would not be dissuaded from the task of removing him from the bloody scene.
"Erik would you like to come with us? I think you were going to show us what baseball was" she smiled at him, "that's the game with the soccer ball isn't it?"
It was always safest in her mind to play utterly dumb at these sports and hope the male ego would feel superior enough to want to explain the game in detail. She wandered out slowly to get Christian's coat and hat on, as well as her own.

 

[Tristan Drage]

The hum of bees outside the hive were of little consequence to Tristan. Now that the queen was injured, he and the others would do all they could to heal her. Not that he needed their help. He wanted her all to himself, to prove his worth as a drone. He would protect her to the end. His life was unimportant, more a drip of honey than the comb itself. Without her, there would be nothing and no one.

Despite his insistence to give her all and more of his attention, the buzzing simply grew too loud. He turned to the source in anger, demanding reason. Then the sound became more defined in tone. What had before been just noise melted into his wife's voice.

"Huh?" Focus returned to him over seconds. Realization took a minute or so. "What the-" His lip curled, his nose scrunched in an expression that bled disgust. He was on his feet again, bolting across the room.

He turned back to that thing, that creature that had been invited into his house. Old habits died hard; four decades of prejudice would not perish. The man had married a muggle and ditched the Death Eaters. This, however, did not exempt other beings from his hatred.

Tristan pointed his wand at the woman from the other end of the living room. It was a threatening gesture, and one that did not waver. The monster would die before she would render him weak again.

"Get that thing out of here. Let it bleed or freeze; I don't care how it dies."

 

[Luke Bennett]

Luke did not find the other males in the room to be a threat. There was no competition. She was his, that was that, and he wasn't going to feel sorry for them when they had their hearts broken later. The woman would be up and ready to kick-box if staring was a remedy for head wounds.

The muggle man took one of her left hand, squeezing it lightly. This was really the only comfort he could offer. Throughout his life, not all of his choices had been sound, but he did know he was responsible for this stranger.

Then there was malice. Luke glared at the man who had married his cousin. How could he say such terrible things about this woman? She needed help, and now it would be refused to her?

"You will not hurt her." There was no uncertainty in this statement. Luke didn't know why, yet he would sooner be thrown under a train than allow danger to have its way.

 

[Christian Drage-Dolohov]

Nastasia struggled to keep him still but he would not be dissuaded, he was his mothers son after all. As soon as he pretended to be calm and she reached to get his coat and hat, Christian pushed her as much as he could and raced back into the room only to see his father pointing his wand at the beautiful girl. Christian knew only one thing in that moment, his father was the most vile and evil person imaginable and all the horrible things that Goia had ever said were so obviously true.

Rushing over to where his father stood calling the 'angel' a thing, Christian took one swing with his small leg and kicked his father as hard as he could. Though more damage was done to the little boy than anything.
"You a big bully daddy" he told him and with his little heart shattered he wiped the furious tears from his eyes. It was one thing to be utterly besotted by the strange woman but it was quite another to have his hero worship for his father tarnished by non other than the man himself. The thrall of the woman seemed not to effect him for now as he was so overwhelmed with the gut wrenching disappointment that his fathers actions had rendered on him. With head hung low he walked to the doorway where Nassie was standing looking stricken. She bundled him up once more as he cuddled into her arms, not once looking back at his father. The disappointment in him was too painful.

 

[Erik Drage]

Erik was as jealous as his brother. He could not contain a smirk when Christian's nanny tried to pull him from the room, and when she asked if he wanted to play baseball, he just shook his head. The dark-haired boy did have a crush on the beautiful Nastasia, but he she was forgotten in the presence of the blonde woman. Puppy eyes were reserved for the stranger.

Then there was commotion. He turned to his father in horror. Why would he want to hurt the lady? Erik glared at the man, his stomach twisting when he saw Christian's expression. No one messed with his younger siblings. Not even their father.

His shock gave way to fury. The six year old was a bundle of dynamite. He felt so awful for his brother and so angry with his father. "Yeah, Dad, you're a BIG bully." Standing tall, he hollered, "You bloody arsehole!"

He'd learned the insult from Sumner, eavesdropping on a heated discussion about the Chudley Cannons. It was one he had never dared to use around his parents. Now, he didn't care what would happen to him. A year without his broomstick would be worth it.

 

[Julie Bennett-Drage]

Julie was grateful for Nastasia trying to get the younger ones out of the room. It seemed that things were going well until suddenly, all hell seemed to break loose. Tristan was calling this young woman a thing and wanting her out of the house. Christian and Erik were upset with him. Nastasia was trying her best to get them out. Eliza was sitting in a chair watching and laughing. Luke's temper was building as well. The wound was mostly clean though it was still bleeding, however they were actually able to see the gash in her head and she knew that Tristan would be able to easily close it with a flick of his wand, but what his problem was, she had no idea.

Taking Luke's free hand and placing it on the cloth on the girl's forehead, she stood up and walked over to her husband. "Exactly what is your problem? This girl needs our help. Why are you calling her a thing? Start talking, Drage. NOW." She placed her hand on his wandhand, pressing it down with all of her might. She knew that he did not like when she did that, but right now, she just did not care. She wanted answers.

 

[Tristan Drage]

His sons were not liars. Tristan was a bully and a bloody arsehole. He always had been and probably would be forever, but that didn't make him feel less horrible about the situation. Christian's tears were punishment for allowing nearly half a century's teachings to rule his temperament. Tristan had always been better at destroying bridges than building them; hell, even maintaining them. The man was in no position to apologize, however. Despite hard truths, something in his brain managed to justify his actions. That same little imperfection was responsible for the pain and misery he had caused in the past. Then, murder had been of no consequence to him, and he supposed that in some respect, it still was.

Husband glanced down at wife as she pushed his hand from a dangerous path. He hated when she came in the way of his magic. Julie was his love, his anchor, but there were times he was able to lift that weight from the ocean bed.

"She's not human," he spat, "A Veela. If we heal her, she'll burn the house down and eat the children after roasting them."