I. Letting Nature

Like the muggle world, there are physicians that treat families altogether. A family doctor, if you will. Family doctors often build a relationship with their patients—and this goes on up until the parents are greying and the children are living their own lives.

Ruby Rothwell, a Healer at St. Mungos, delivered all three of Amelie's children. Ruby handles all their routine wellness check-ups, including Xenophilius and Amelie. Over time, Ruby built a trusting relationship with the Berkshire family. For nearly two decades, if not more.

So when Ruby told Amelie that her hereditary cancer is spreading rapidly, one can imagine how devastating that conversation was. It's even worse to hear that Amelie's children, daughters in specific, are at higher risk for developing the same illness.

Ruby pressed her palm against the bottom of Amelie's neck and mumbled a diagnostic spell. As Ruby removed her hand from Amelie's body, tiny sparkles emitted from different regions of her body. She shook her head in disappointment as Amelie sighed.

"It's gone to your lungs, liver, and parts of your bones, Amelie," she said. "We can try another regimen to slow the spread. Or better yet, you can hopefully consider starting chemotherapy." Ruby muttered another diagnostic spell with her palm pressed against Amelie's abdomen. The same spots emitted tiny sparkles. In truth, Ruby felt like crying. But, she had to stay strong for the sake of Amelie.

"I'm just letting nature take its course," Amelie sat back up from the hospital bed and looked right at Ruby. "Besides, too tired to fight it off anyway."

This was true. Amelie was too tired to do anything these days.

"If you insist," Ruby replies. She grabs Amelie's neatly folded clothes from the chair adjacent to the bed and hands them to her. "Here. Go on and change and I'll step out."

Amelie laughs a weak laugh. "You really don't need to bother stepping out. You've delivered all three of my children."

Ruby chuckles softly as she makes her way toward the door. "I've got to check you out of here anyway. Did you want me to let Zeno know about your check-up?"

"No," she replies flatly. "It's just the same old stuff."

As Amelie dressed herself up, Ruby came back with riveting news.

"Have you heard about the auction?" she queried as she collected the used hospital gown from the ground. "The last living Parkinson heir is selling their estate—including everything in it."

She took a seat next to Amelie out on the bed as she held up a newspaper. Ruby read aloud the parts that stood out—'Project Fenrir Greyback'.

"I think this is the Universe's way of telling you that there is hope," Ruby insisted. "Clearly there's a reason why the estate is up for grabs at the same time you've fallen ill."

"Now, you've completely gone mad," Amelie shook her head. She stood up from the bed to collect her cross-body bag hanging from the hook behind the door. "I'm not buying a single thing the Parkinsons have to offer. Especially not an estate!"

"Oh, Amelie," she sighed. "Just you wait. The more you run away from your sickness, the faster it'll consume you, you know."

Before Amelie left the room, she turned to Ruby with a blank expression. "I'm not running at all. As I said, Ruby. I'm letting nature take its course."

Amelie apparated back home with severe nausea to follow. Casting spells without her wand in hand has gotten more difficult and made her prone to the typical motion sickness that apparition had to offer. To add, it's harder to pinpoint a specific location. Ideally, she wanted to apparate in front of her manor to show she is still well and can walk the long walk into the home and into the kitchen where her family is expecting her—it was to prove to her family that she was just fine and that her illness hasn't gotten the best of her yet,

Instead, she apparated right in the middle of the kitchen where her family waited patiently. One can assume that Amelie was way into her head.

"Any good news?" Zeno questioned.

"No news at all," Mel replied. "How long was I at St. Mungos for?"

"Not that long," Celine replied as she toyed with the coasters on the kitchen island. Give or take, an hour and a half?"

Mel chuckled softly, "My apologies, I was talking to Ruby about some sort of silly auction."

"An auction?" Zeno repeated. "Silly... silly like the auctioning of storage units?"

"Something like that," Mel lied. "I don't know. Ruby wasn't exactly clear. I was practically dozing off."

Mel made her way out of the kitchen and said, "I'm going to take a nap. None of you should bother me," as she left. The rest of the family looked at each other with confusion.

"Do you guys really think that there is no news at all from her visit with the Healer?" Roman wondered.

"The Healer has a name, Roman," Zeno answered. "And to answer your question, I don't think there was not any news. I believe there was. She just refuses to tell us anything. Your mother is stubborn."

"Stubborn is an understatement," Oshun laughed. "Mum is heavy on the whole 'let me die' wave. I wish her demeanor was different."

"Yeah, because 50 years old is too young to be dying," added Celine. "Dad, I don't think you've convinced Mum enough to go through with chemotherapy or radiation."

"You don't think I try every night to convince her to get medical attention from the muggle world?" Zeno responded. "She insists that she just lets the Universe handle it and that prolonging her life by pumping her with medication would only have her suffer longer. In truth, she has a point. But, again, she's not willing to discover a single thing that could help her illness. Ruby, the healer, and I once discussed that if the Healers at St. Mungos could get their hands on any information related to what happened to your grandmother, they could maybe reverse whatever hex or generational curse she's under."

Roman huffed. "Well, you can kiss that idea goodbye."

"Be hopeful, will you?" Oshun kicked her brother underneath the kitchen island. "Look, Cely and I will talk to Mum once her nap is done. Maybe we can really convince her."

Zeno shook his head with closed eyes, thinking of all the things that could go wrong within one conversation. Nonetheless, like their mother, Celine and Oshun are too stubborn to hear their father out.

"You do as you please. All I ask is that you let her be with her final decision. Refrain from pushing it any further, otherwise, it'll stress her out. Am I making myself clear?"

"I'm not ten anymore," Oshun snarked. "I clearly understand."

As Oshun got up to part from the kitchen, Zeno's gaze traveled from the departing figure to his son, Roman. Zeno shot a sidelong glance with furrowed brows.

Once Oshun completely left, Zeno scoffed. "Sure. She surely isn't ten anymore but how come she's still living under my roof?"

"Oh, please. Your youngest child is 23 years old and still living under your roof. We're clearly not going anywhere anytime soon," Celine badgered. Her smirk dropped slowly as the realization came in a brief wave. "Especially not now, anyway."

"You do know that each of us has lofts to go back to, correct?" Roman turned to face his sister. "I came back for Mum. Surely we all did, right?"

"If we're being honest, I came back for Mum and the family's personal chef. No other chef can make lentil soup the way ours can—."

"Cely, why don't you let the personal chef know that? I'm sure he'd love to hear that," Zeno interrupted with a faint smile.

Celine looked at her father with a condescending look.

"...If that was your way of kicking me out of the kitchen, it was truly stupid," she snapped. Celine hopped off the swivel chair and stormed out of the kitchen.

Roman looked at his father with wide eyes. "Oshun and Cely need to find peace."

"Tell me about it," Zeno guffawed. "Why is it that you're the youngest of the bunch, yet you were the first one to move out after you finished Hogwarts?"

Roman smirked. "Can't find good-looking women at home, now can we?"

Zeno shook his head with a soft chuckle. "Sometimes I feel like you cause the most trouble."

Later that night, Roman, a young man with a taste for luxury, retreats to his private sanctuary within the manor—a bedroom exuding an air of refined elegance. The thick curtains adorning the tall windows ensure that sunlight remains at bay, granting a perpetual twilight within the room. The subdued illumination casts subtle shadows, lending an air of mystique to the space.

The centerpiece of the room is a majestic four-post king bed, draped in pristine, hotel-esque sheets that beckon one to indulge in comfort. The duvets and pillows, meticulously arranged, offer a cloud-like respite for Roman's repose. The headboard, a statement of opulence, features intricate detailing that evokes a sense of grandeur.

The room's color palette reflects Roman's sophisticated persona, adorned in shades that mirror his enigmatic nature. Dominated by a harmonious blend of grey, black, and white, the ambiance is enriched by deep, deep red accents reminiscent of passion and desire. Dark navy blue, like an ocean abyss, adds depth to the composition, casting an aura of intrigue.

While Roman's bedroom stands as a testament to luxury, it is but a reflection of the opulence that pervades the entirety of the manor. Each room within the ancestral abode bears witness to a lavishness tailored to its occupants, his sisters Oshun and Celine basking in their own realms of indulgence.

Oshun's bedroom, adorned in an exquisite fusion of gold and ivory, exudes an aura of regality. Elaborate tapestries, delicately woven with scenes of ancient mythology, grace the walls, while a gilded vanity beckons attention with its ornate mirror and fine perfumes. Soft, billowing curtains, reminiscent of ethereal nymphs, cascade gracefully, imbuing the room with an otherworldly charm.

In contrast, Celine's chamber embraces a more contemporary aesthetic, seamlessly melding modern sensibilities with timeless elegance. Shades of cool grey and silver dominate the space, punctuated by sleek lines and minimalist furnishings. A sleek, state-of-the-art entertainment system takes center stage, reflecting her affinity for technology and entertainment. The room's ambiance whispers of sophistication, a haven for intellectual pursuits and creative musings.

As one traverses the manor's halls, the fusion of antiquity and modernity becomes palpable. The corridors, adorned with exquisite artworks and intricately carved moldings, weave a tapestry of history. Yet, seamlessly integrated amidst the grandeur, one discovers sleek, touch-panel lighting systems and hidden speakers, merging the allure of old-world charm with the convenience of contemporary living.

The manor itself, a testament to generations of prosperity, emanates an aura of old money with a modern twist. Its imposing façade, graced by majestic columns and sprawling gardens, stands as a tribute to architectural brilliance. The meticulously manicured grounds, adorned with sculptures and fountains, bear witness to the family's refined taste and appreciation for beauty.

Within the walls of this stately abode, the presence of opulence resonates with every step, blending the grandeur of a bygone era with the contemporary aspirations of its current inhabitants. The manor, an embodiment of refined luxury, serves as a timeless monument to the legacy of Roman's family and their unyielding pursuit of sophistication.

As Roman whiled away his leisure hours, engrossed in the art of digital connection, a gentle symphony of conversations unfolded on his phone's screen. Engaging in witty banter and shared secrets, he reveled in the allure of these virtual encounters.

Yet, amidst the delicate dance of messages and the tantalizing promise of connection, a sudden intrusion shattered the tranquility of his sanctuary. A distinct knock reverberated through the thick door, instantly seizing his attention. The interruption, unexpected and unwelcome, cast an ephemeral shadow over the room's luxurious ambiance.

Startled, Roman's fingers faltered upon the screen, momentarily suspended in mid-air. Curiosity sparked within him, mingled with a tinge of annoyance at the disruption to his private pursuit. 

A moment of hesitation lingered as if suspended in time before he reluctantly set aside his phone, the allure of connection momentarily eclipsed by the mysteries awaiting outside his bedroom door. With measured steps, he crossed the room, his mind still lingering on the untamed conversations he had left behind.

Roman's hand reached for the door handle as he swung it open. What stood affront to him was his father gripping a newspaper. His father's visage expressed some sort of excitement, as if he were on the edge of his seat, dying to let his son know his most recent discovery. 

Roman stepped aside, gesturing that his father walks in. Upon his entrance, Roman closed the door behind him.

"You sure look like you've got something to tell me," Roman stated. 

Zeno held up the newspaper. "This is the auction that your mother tried to brush off earlier," he said. "Here. Read this."

As Roman took the newspaper from his father, he read through its entirety. "Auction of the Century, I see. But why does this excite you?"

"Ro," he sighed. "Think, son. The Parkinson estate is up for auction, and that includes everything in it. Did you skip a few lines? The parts where it mentions files of Project Fenrir Greyback? You know, like, the literal 'project' your grandmother was involved in."

"I might've skipped that part," Roman replied, rereading the newspaper. "Aside from that, is this something Mum wants us to partake in?"

"No," he replied quickly, "Which is why I'm here telling you."

Roman looked at his father with a puzzled look. "You're going behind Mum's back?"

"For her own good," he defended. "If we could get ahold of those files, we could get with the Healers at St. Mungos, your aunt Narsa, and your uncle Jack, all together to discover some sort of spell or concoction that could reverse everything."

"Dad, I don't know," Roman was on the fence about the whole thing. "Mum would be really upset."

"Don't you want her to get better? Don't you want to save your sisters from this as well? I hope you know there's a high chance that you're a carrier of this illness, too. Maybe these thoughts will help you reconsider."

With the newspaper in hand, Roman had his arms crossed as he paced his room back and forth with thought. Zeno was focused on his son's demeanor. Roman's expression was inconclusive.

But, finally, Roman stopped in his tracks and turned to his father. "You want me to attend this auction, don't you?"

Zeno nodded quickly. "There's an open house in fifteen days. Scope the place around. Locate the office where the files could be at. I don't think you're able to access the office but confirm that the files are in there."

"Alone? Not with Oshun? Cely?"

"This is a task made for you—and you only. It's less suspicious. Cely and Oshun cannot be trusted. They'd be the first ones to tell your Mum about this whole ordeal. We can't risk anyone knowing. Not until after the purchase of the estate."

"Do you know how much this will cost us?" Roman wondered.

Zeno laughed at his son, which left Roman confused. "Do you know how much money we have? Price doesn't matter. Just buy the estate, yeah?"

"What's the maximum amount? What if it goes any higher?"

"Roman, I've given you and your sisters sizeable lofts that the Weasley bloodline, to this day, still can't afford."

"That was a low blow," Roman mumbled. "An unnecessary comment."

"You're right," Zeno chuckled dryly. "Sorry, my mistake. But, as I said, just bid until you win, okay? We need that estate."

Roman looked at the newspaper one last time before handing it back to his father. "Guess I've got to get my suits dry-cleaned. Formal attire, clearly. Masquerade masks? Where do I even get those?"

"We've got a lot in our manor basement. Your mum and I used to—"

"Do you want to finish that sentence? In front of me?"

"Roman, stop," Zeno shook his head, "You didn't even let me finish. What I was trying to say is that your mum and I used to host Masquerade Balls every five years."

"I don't remember those events," replied Roman. 

"They were strictly for adults."

"Was it a kink thing?"

"I'm not having this outrageous conversation with you," Zeno got up from the ottoman. "Just—. Do as I ask, okay? Fifteen days, attend the auction with anonymity. In thirty, attend the auction and purchase the estate. With anonymity. Mislead your sisters and your mother from this point on moving forward. Do we have a deal?"

Roman nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Great," said Zeno. "Good night. Get your beauty sleep." 

As Zeno left, Roman plummeted onto his bed and groaned. "This whole ordeal is so not 'eat-the-rich'".

***

D I S C U S S I O N 

I know. I feel like this chapter doesn't do any justice. But, I PROMISE I promise. It will get better. I just had to set the foundation of the story in order to proceed. It will not be boring anymore, I promise. I am currently writing chapter two, but I want to publish the first three parts of this book just to see everyone's reaction. If it's good, I think it's safe to move forward.