𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕

It was nearing the middle of November and Sekhmet had to prepare for her brother's wedding. Tomorrow was when she was supposed to leave, the 15th. Osiris was to be officially married to Alecto Carrow at the Arafa family estate in Germany. Sekhmet honestly never thought she’d see the day. She had been quite surprised to find out that Osiris had been the one to plan the engagement. She had originally assumed her father had set up the betrothal. After all, Osiris had never expressed much interest in marriage before. Bloody hell he had never even expressed that much interest in women before. Sekhmet planned to confront him privately at some point during the wedding and inquire as to what made him want to marry.

As she packed her bags she heard a loud crash come from the bathroom of the dorm. It sounded as though a wild niffler was let loose.

“OH FOR MELINS SAKE!” Dorcas screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice holding so much frustration Sekhmet was almost certain that Dorcas had smoke coming out of her ears.

“Are you okay Dorcas?” Pandora called out, quickly springing up from packing her trunk on the floor and looking toward the door in worry.

“Yes Lestrange I’m doing bloody wonderful! Today truly couldn’t be ANY BETTER!” Dorcas spat the last two words, her head peaking out the doorway as she gave an unimpressed smile and portrayed an obviously sarcastic sense of merriment.

“She was only wondering Meadowes, no need to be snappy. What’s the issue?” Sekhmet asked all while keeping her attention focused on the task at hand.

Sekhmet packed her bag with the precision of a potions master measuring out ingredients. Her hands moved swiftly, rearranging the objects in the trunk that she hadn’t trusted her previous spell-work to achieve. She always packed twice, or at least that's what Regulus had told her. She would cast spells first to bring everything together and sort how she’d like inside her trunk. After that, she’d personally go through and meticulously double-check that every single item was precisely where she wanted it to be. Regulus called her little habits such as these endearing. She thought that her stress over such small tasks would one day send her to an early grave.

“My favorite hair straightener just broke! I burnt myself while trying to do my hair— because I’m supposed to see Marlene for a study session later this afternoon and I want her to think I’m as bloody fit as I think she is— and I accidentally threw it on the floor!” Dorcas rambled, her eyes starting to show her panic and her speech going a thousand miles a minute.

“Well, that’s an easy fix then! We’re witches, remember?”  Sekhmet said, slowly standing up from her seat on the floor to come over to Dorcas and hold her hand.

Dorcas’ gaze snapped up to Sekhmet in desperation, her eyes starting to fill with unshed tears. Sekhmet quickly healed the burn on Dorcas’ neck, waving her hand over the mark and muttering a spell under her breath. Dorcas started to minutely relax after not having to tense up from the pain of the burn; her eyes still conveying the sense of urgency and panic she was feeling. Sekhmet summoned her wand and with one swift, fluid motion over Dorcas’ hair, she was able to straighten the rest of her curly tresses.

“You go have fun Cas. I’ll fix your curling iron once we get back,” Pandora told Dorcas, smiling softly and waving her hand at the door to further urge Dorcas out.

Dorcas ran out of the room as though she were being chased by a Nundu looking for its next snack. Sekhmet and Pandora burst into hearty laughter at seeing their friend so frazzled over a meeting with someone.

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The wedding was absolutely breathtaking. Sekhmet could see the mass bouquets of red roses lining every crevice of the estate. Large fountains portraying the goddess Isis were erected from marble and from them flowed the clearest blue water she had ever seen. The fountains were placed on either side of the main entrance, where the bride-to-be was going to walk down the aisle. The Arafa estate was home to many different species of plants and animals. Mountains could be seen behind the home, their vast range portraying the ancient landscape. Her father had bought the estate saying that it seemed as though the mountains were gods, looking over their every move and protecting them. Sekhmet spotted Osiris, who was looking impeccable in a modern sage green tuxedo with gold embroidery around the wrist cuffs, collar, and lapels. His hair was slicked back with gel in such a manner that made him as though he had just swam in the sea. He looked every bit of the groom that Sekhmet imagined he would be.

The Arafa family had decided to go for a more coordinated look. They each wore green attire that had them modestly covered and opted for a more Western appearance than what they were used to. Their father had said that they had to start getting used to Western clothing now that they were living in Europe.

Sekhmet had decided to wear a lighter green dress with a tulle skirt, a dark green velvet top with a sweetheart neckline, and tulle sleeves. The dress had gold detailing all around its bodice that ran down the skirt in perfect waves. She looked stunning. The dress matched her green eyes and drew attention to the gold jewelry adorning her wrists, neck, ankles, and ears.

Sekhmet made her way over to Osiris. He was standing next to one of the champagne towers that was balancing on top of a refreshments table. She quickly meandered her way next to him, dodging left and right through the crowd of people. She knew she had to ask why he wanted to be married. After what had happened this morning with her father she felt she must know as to what Osiris’ plans were.

Just after her arrival at the Arafa estate, Set had pulled Sekhmet aside to instruct her on how to perform a blood bond. Blood bonds were a common practice done by witches in the times of Ancient Egypt when the Pharaohs reigned. A blood bond essentially established a one-way link between two souls. If the man in the bond were to die, the woman would die with him. The practice was primarily done so that women marrying into the family would have no power over their husband’s assets if he were to meet his untimely demise. Women in the Arafa family held the power to secure a bloodline, making them responsible for creating the bond between the new union. That being said, the practice hadn’t been done since the times of the ancient Egyptian pharaohs.

Set had been adamant that she was to perform the ritual, whether or not she wanted to. He claimed that one of his sons was important enough to have the same ancient protection as his ancestors. Sekhmet thought it was absurd, but she also knew that Set having the power of an Arafa woman to wield at his leisure was a dangerous thing for everyone. If she disobeyed she may be forfeiting her life, but if she proceeded to go through with the ritual then she may very well be signing off every small connection she had to her eldest brother.

Sekhmet had played around with the concept of their family blood magic before. Growing up and learning about the odd lack of women in their bloodline had her curious. When she was young she used to peruse the old family libraries in the Pyramids. She had discovered that the reason there were so few women in the Arafa family was because of their obscene amount of power. They were only born every few hundred years so that the balance of power would remain steady. Arafa witches were some of the most powerful people to ever grace the Earth. Their presence built empires and tore down dynasties. Sekhmet had learned quite a bit about blood magic before her third year at Beaubaxtons. She had practiced in private, swearing one of the old protectors of the Great Pyramids to secrecy.

If Osiris planned on doing anything rash after his marriage Sekhmet had to know. She had never seen Osiris as the marrying type. Sure he never went around and partied, or had a plethora of relationships during his Durmstrang days, but he just never seemed to show much interest in the arrangement. She never knew him as a playboy per se, so that was never the reason she figured he wouldn’t settle down. She had simply never seen him express interest in someone before. He had always been too busy hanging out with his friends or spending time with his best friend Rabastan Lestrange. The two were close and spent nearly every moment together. Despite going to different schools they sent letters to one another often and would visit each other as much as possible. She silently approached Osiris, her footfalls light and her movements graceful. She tapped softly on his shoulder, her bracelets making small chimes as she moved.

‎“أخ, congratulations. May I speak with you before the ceremony?” Sekhmet implored with a polite smile directed at her older brother.

She always had a facade to put on for the pureblood socialites. She was meant to be the Lady of the House. After her mother had died the responsibility fell on her. Despite Osiris marrying, her status wouldn’t change; her father was still the Lord of the Arafa family, making her the only other option for Lady of the house. She was the first true-born Arafa to be Lady of the house since the great woman pharaoh Nefertiti.

“Of course my أخت! What is it you would like to talk about?” Osiris slurred his words, his tone overly joyful in the way that almost all wasted people sounded. He turned his hazy eyes toward Sekhmet, a drunken grin on his face.

Sekhmet was appalled by his behavior. To not want a wedding is one thing, but to get drunk on your wedding day and force your bride to go through with it is another thing entirely. She forced a smile at him and grabbed a hold of his forearm, her grip like a vice. She quickly pulled him along with her, not waiting for whatever nonsense response he was going to give. She dragged him out of the way of the fountains, taking him behind a secluded tree on the outskirts of the estate. Osiris stumbled after her, nearly falling on his face as they approached the roots of the old sycamore.

“Are you drunk?!” Sekhmet whispered and shouted at him, her eyes staring up at him in reprimand.

To say that she was upset about his behavior was an understatement. She had been told before by her brothers that her “I’m disappointed in you” tone sounded a lot like her mother’s. Although she had very few memories of the woman, due to her dying when Sekhmet was around five years old, the skill seemed to come in handy when she inevitably had to scold one of her brothers for doing something stupid. Osiris looked to Sekhmet, as though offended that she would even insinuate such a thing, though his slow actions and slurred speech ultimately betrayed him. He brought a hand up to his chest, his movements sloppy and slow.

“I am not! Why on earth would you think that?” Osiris spoke slowly, tripping over his words.

“Don’t play dumb with me Osiris,” Sekhmet replied sternly, her eyes silently fuming.

Osiris’ eyes nearly popped out of his head with how wide they got. Sekhmet almost always called her brothers by sweet nicknames or terms of endearment. To hear her call them by their first names meant that she was undeniably serious.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to. Baba brought up a blood bond between Alecto and I but it was never supposed to go this far!” Osiris rushed to explain, his tone growing more and more distressed as he continued to speak.

“What wasn’t supposed to go this far Osi? Didn’t you want to get married to Alecto?” Sekhmet asked bringing her hand up to cup his, tone soft and gentle.

“This bloody marriage! I only brought it up so that Baba would get off my back!” Osiris complained, “Oh she’s going to bloody hate that I’m telling anyone this but Alecto and I agreed to get married because we needed to get our families off our case.”

“What do you mean by that Osi?” Sekhmet asked him, though she figured she knew what he was about to say.

She had always suspected it but was never sure. Sekhmet knew the feeling. Hell, all her friends did. Being attracted to the same sex wasn’t a good thing in pureblood families. Members had gotten disowned for less.

“We- were in a… a lavender marriage” Osiris whispered the last few words, not meeting her eyes in shame.

Sekhmet squeezed ahold of his hand, her other hand going up to meet his face. She gently led his jaw up so that he would look her in the eye.

“Who?” Sekhmet questioned, the sentence incomplete yet they both knew what she was referring to.

“Rabastan’” Osiris confessed, his voice breaking in the process.

He began to quietly sob, his knees giving out. Sekhmet caught him and brought him down to the ground, looking around to make sure no one was watching them. She propped Osiris against the tree, his head on his knees.

“I’ll do my best to amend the spell. You won’t have to be loyal to one another, but you will dictate her fate,” Sekhmet said softly, her eyes looking straight ahead at the vast mountains.

Osiris was starting to calm down a bit at hearing that. His breath evened out and he eventually looked up at Sekhmet after a moment. A small look of hope overtook his face.

“Thank you أخت” Osiris smiled.