Crossovers

“Where-?” she frowned, peering about with a young child clutched to her chest. This was not Grimmauld Place, not at all. Her lips pursed as she rocked her small charge.

xXx

“I don’t care.” she narrowed searing pale green eyes at the suited man in front of her. She watched his throat move and sweat dot his forehead. She held her child close, bouncing her slightly. “I want that house.”

Shachath, a physical embodiment of an aspect of Death in this world, had mentioned it. And if she was mentioning it, it was worth looking into. Papa Legba, partially an aspect of Death but only barely, had gotten a disdainful look on his face at the mention. His fellow Loa, Maman Brigitte (a member of Ghede) had far more hold in the element of Death. These blatantly human like forms were still notably bizarre to feel some sort of magical connection to. And for there to be so many! Death, surely, was a sort of non-entity in that it wasn’t specifically a form or sentient in her old world- it simply was. The wand, rock and cloak practically buzzed and hummed in their presence. As far as sentient Death went, they had gained their own sort of sentience throughout their time in existence and throughout her own years as a field Unspeakable, other items touched or soaked in Death had come into her possession. They gravitated towards her. It seems that in this universe the same happened, only that there were physical forms and personalities to these manifestations of Death. It was also quite aggravating when several of them seemed to not get along very well with one another except unlike the trinkets and baubles of her old world, these manifestations could voice their displeasure. Loudly, sometimes over their overlapping aspects or the feuds of their practitioners or peoples under their jurisdiction. And with several of what seemed to be hexes and curses to one another. It had taken them waking up her precious little bundle for her to snap at them and get them to stop being so rowdy.

Shachath lingered around her the most after that, just behind the entity that slipped from shadow to shadow and clung to her closely. It felt the closest to the original three artifacts she had obtained somewhat unwillingly- a shadow that hung about her from the three reunited fairytale items. Quiet, but constant.

This led eventually to her prompt moving to the U.S. and in looking into the house that was conveniently empty and just west of Hotel Cortez, which also seemed to spark some amount of reaction among a few of the Death aspects. Her current legal advisor took her aside after speaking with a very friendly realtor that he said struck him as a bad facade. He’d looked into the property’s history and had suggested a different house built somewhat similarly elsewhere. The most recent- and it was very recent- death of the house the murder-suicide of the Warwick husbands was only one in a number of grisly ends people seemed to meet in the house.

“O-of course Ms. Black.”

“Thank you for looking into it Charles. But I’ve a feeling about that house. If it’s perhaps too much, then I’ll have the place closed off under my name if I can’t just tear it down.” she assured him after a moment.

xXx

“Oh! I didn’t expect my buyer to be so young.” the woman said with a polite little laugh, eye trailing to the silver-white scar on her face. It trailed the right side of her forehead, covered only partially by a few stray curls and the brim of her cloche hat, struck down her eyebrow and eye to the top of her cheek. Against tawny brown skin it was thin but very visible. The rest of her scars were neatly covered by a thin pale peach cardigan and tea length dress in soft cream and tidy leather pumps in the same color. Thin gloves covered the scars on her hands and her freshly done nails both. “And with a little one!” there was a sort of undercurrent there that almost made her clench her jaw. Still, her tone was as pleasant as Charles had said, friendly and eager-for-sales while maintaining professionalism.

“My goddaughter.” she offered, voice soft but not demure or shy. She didn’t like this Marcy woman’s eyes. Reminded her a lot of her aunt in childhood. Lavender was kept close, face hidden in her neck away from prying eyes and named after Lilac’s own dormmate, the girl’s grandmother Lavender Weasley nee Brown.

Lilac might look barely into young adulthood, but she was older than anyone who took a glance might give credit. Made, perhaps, worse in that the wixen folk aged slower than their muggle counterparts even without Lilac’s own freakishness on top. Lavender was her goddaughter much the same that her mother Rose had been Lilac’s goddaughter. But thinking about Rose still made her heart clench painfully. She stroked Lav’s back, tilting her head so the girl’s puffs weren’t going to go in her mouth when she opened it. Her grandmother used to use relaxers or expensive hair salons and Rose had been more interested in protective braids and twists as she got older, so at least Lilac had plenty of practice with hair a different kind of curly than her own long defined curls. Curls currently held back in a low tail down her back, one of Lav’s hands tangled in them in a familiar clutch for comfort. She would have come alone, but leaving Lav behind anywhere made them both upset and made a pit grow in her stomach no matter what child safety spells and monitors and charms she used. So she wore a set of headphones with soft bunny ears and listened to a curated list of children’s songs. She didn’t like strangers after all, but didn’t like being apart more than that.

“She’s shy.” she told the woman so she didn’t get any ideas about trying to talk to her.

“Right. Well, Ms. Black, would you like to come in?”

“Please, Ms. Smith.”

“Oh call me Marcy, I insist.”

And soon they were stepping onto the property. Immediately, there was a faint compulsion trying to faintly lay itself onto her, soft and fragile as a cobweb. At the same time, something in the ambient magic that laid within the immediate property seemed to stir uneasily. Ghosts? Shades? Stepping into the house only made something feel like it was trying to blanket her. It didn’t, of course, the Death shadow slicking it all up like a sponge to turn into its own energy. Which was good- she didn’t want that sludge like magic seeping into Lavender. She listened to the woman extol the virtues of the house before she seemed to remember something and excused herself to greet more potential buyers in. Lilac cocked her head to the side, feeling the way that slimy magic started trying to tangle around the others outside. At the very worst, she’ll put the woman under a compulsion to sell to her instead if for some reason she thought it better the house go into someone else’s hands.

It didn’t take long for the woman to return as she glided around the kitchen. It would need a bit of touching up to play nicely with more magical sets of enchanted things but it was very pretty and with a good amount of space for cooking and baking. And she did so love a good afternoon of baking with Lavender.

“Ms. Black is another prospective buyer.” Marcy entered the room with, the small family trailing behind her. She peered at them from under thick fanning lashes, stroking Lav’s back reassuringly. Husband and wife, teenage daughter and a small fluffy dog. “Ms. Black, the Harmon family.”

“Competition, great.” she heard the teen girl mutter, rolling her eyes while the girl’s parents took her in and somewhat incredulously dismissed her as competition. They smiled politely at her nonetheless. Well, at least there are manners.

“Hello.”

“How do you do,” she said, perfectly prim and neat RP English that Andromeda had battered into her head, just a bit softer than traditional RP. “I think I’d like to take a look around in the next room, if you’d like to tend to the Harmons?”

“That’s just fine, dear.” the woman smiled and Lilac’s lips pulled up in a polite dimpled smile back. It was a blatant excuse to be elsewhere and avoid terrible smalltalk that she’d feel compelled to engage in if they spoke to her. It didn’t last terribly long and the small dog was quick to join her, huddling against her leg. Animals always were more sensitive than muggles ever seemed to be. She crouched down primly, free hand petting the poor thing.

“That’s Hallie.” the teen girl spoke up, having left her parents behind. Lilac glanced up at her. The girl was blatantly staring at her scar, shameless the way children and teenagers often unfortunately were. “What happened to your face?”

“A touch rude.” she said mildly, scratching beneath Hallie’s chin. “And hardly your business I should wager.”

“Is that really how you talk or are you faking it?”

Lilac stopped and straightened back up. She’d have been shorter than the girl without her pumps on but stood just a bit taller than her as it were and stared the girl down until she was visibly unnerved by her unblinking stare. Luckily enough for her, that’s when the other adults came to the room, the husband Harmon already proposing ideas for rooms. How optimistic, she thought to herself before watching the way strain and some sort of unease crept in with the information of what happened to the previous owners. The girl seemed to take a rather unpleasant interest and opened her mouth while her parents probed just a little bit.

“Where-”

“How much of the renovation that they planned has been finished in the house?” she smoothly cut in.

The house was in her name within the next week.

xXx

She hummed quietly as she watched furniture being hauled in, boxes of things she just bought soon cluttering up the space on the ground floor. The kitchen was kept clean and tidy, replacements being made and the shiny newer muggle appliances she didn’t know how to enchant like the oven and dishwasher she was getting rid of donated to a charity the next town over. Much the same way that Lavender’s room was quickly put to rights. She wouldn’t be spending most nights in it if Lilac wasn’t in the room with her as it were and it wasn’t like Lilac wasn’t used to sharing a room. Only for a few nights until she got around to her own room, at which point Lav will likely start spending her nights with her there. Lav’s favorite color was incidentally lavender purple so sheer shimmery tufts hung from the ceiling in the color around her rather big bed with satin covered pillows and flower and fairy orientated décor and items were out on a cream-white dresser with curved feet that were thematically appropriate. A mountain of plush soft animals of all sorts of sizes quickly found places for themselves in her room and a soft cream white rug sat sprawling across the floor comfortably for tiny toes. A child sized table with the same curved feet as the dresser, her bed, and the small child-sized wooden chairs sat nearby, along with a kitchen play-set and tea set play set in shiny plastic that more resembled glass than the chunky, clunky manufactured set she’d seen in the shops. She did still buy every ‘princess’ dress Lav set her eyes on though, and had hunted down child size petticoats to go under them. If she wanted a particularly fluffy skirt, Lilac would have to sew her a dress or modify the rather cheap fabric of the bought dresses but she didn’t mind that.

A Miss Violet Canterbury Bear (well, rabbit in this case) sat vigil on a nightstand along with a flower blossom nightlight. Her own Mercedes bear sat next to them for now until her own room was set up properly.

She planned on building a dollhouse for her as well, in 1:6 scale for the abundance of Barbie dolls they just bought. None of the dollhouses at the shop compared to the fanciful enchanted one done in wood she’d found in the Black Vault with its drawers beneath to store the dolls. It had survived the fighting Teddy and Rosie had done over it as children, survived Mimosa’s accidental magic and her brother Scorpius’ tantrums, Hugo’s sabotage of it in his more rebellious childhood phase. It was a shame Lav didn’t get the chance to make those memories with it like her mother did.

As it were, a pink pop-up princess castle stood in one corner where the dollhouse will be once she makes it.

She needed someone else to come in to put up a telly, she had no idea how to do all of that. And maybe a portable DVD player, which will require going out to look through children’s films and the like. And of course, to begin a stockpile of books not just for her but for Lilac as well.

“Bath?”

“Is it that time already?” Lilac peered over at the slightly cartoony owl themed clock. “Alright then. Which would you like, luv? Vanilla bath pearls or rosewater melts? Or maybe one of the new ones? Cotton candy? Creamsicle?”

Lav’s lips pursed and her brows furrowed in thought. Lilac smiled at the sight, reaching out to smooth her finger down her nose and making it scrunch up as she giggled. She didn’t have as many freckles as Rose did, but they were still there, just visible across her nose and cheeks against warm sepia skin. Lav’s hand caught hers, tugging at her gloves. Her nails were pastel purple and glittery and she’ll want metallic pink next week probably to match the dress of what quickly became her favorite Barbie. She let her pull her glove off, baring her scarred hand and she gently bopped Lav’s nose. She giggled again.

“Alright then, let’s pick out your jim-jams.”

It didn’t take long for her to pick up a blue nightgown and for Lilac to pull off her other glove, settling them neatly on the nightstand to grab an oversized shirt that reminded her of one that Ron had given her ages and ages ago. Lav was quick to pull her to the cotton candy melts as she filled up the tub.

Soon she was bare to the room and Lav was practically pushing her to the tub even as she was pulling the girl’s hair into a bath cap and then pulling up her own long hair into one.

“We’ll need to look for bath toys won’t we poppet?”

“Yes!”

xXx

Doing things manually wasn’t always her first choice- so long immersed on the wixen side crept down into her bones and then deeper still, but she wasn’t sure how the strange ambient sticky magic would react to a spell or charm that she cast. It did mean things were definitely more slow going than they could be but it was hardly Lilac’s first time moving around furniture and homemaking. Lav sat in a plush oversized chair in the room that the Harmons considered using as a study. Lilac instead set about setting up her sewing and general smaller handicraft area.

“You’re gonna die in here.” came the sudden warning and she turned to see a young woman in a rather pretty floral dress and cardigan that coordinated nicely with it. She of course hadn’t set down wards yet so that was likely her own fault getting so distracted. Still, she could have sworn she locked the doors. The woman in front of her wasn’t dead, wasn’t a shade or piece of spirit left behind like the ones that watched carefully, probing and waiting but keeping out of sight.

“Hullo. luv. Wasn’t expecting visitors, else I would have brought up some tea.” she turned from where she was settling things on the heavy wood desk with it’s lovely curved carvings.

“Adelaide,” she heard distantly and she hummed low in her throat as Lav quickly scampered to her side, clutching a ragdoll bunny in one hand and then her long skirt in the other. “Adelaide,” an older woman came through, steps clear and concise. “Adelaide.” she called again, then noticed the woman in the room and came in close. “Adelaide. I put on Dora the Explorer for you so you would sit and watch it.”

“It was Go, Diego, Go. I don’t like it.” Adelaide insisted and by the sounds of it, not for the first time.

“Oh, brown cartoon characters,” Lilac pursed her lips tightly before smoothing out her expression. “You can’t tell the difference.”

Oh. Oh, that kind of person was it? Unpleasant. Lav shifted to partially hide behind her.

“Excuse me.” she called over to them, tepid and mild.

“Oh. Hi.” her smile was pretty and she must have been lovely in her younger years but the way her eyes scanned her and then the peek of Lav hiding against her made her hackles rise up. “I’m Constance, your neighbor from next door,” the woman explained, turning to Adelaide. “And this is my girl, Adelaide.”

“Hello.” she enunciated clearly.

“Go home, Addy. Now.”

She wondered if this was Constance Langdon, a previous owner of the home? She may have been able to bully her way into records with names for the house, but not the neighbors. Four children and only one of them alive by the time they left the house for the final time. While Adelaide was making her way out, frustration in every step, the woman turned her attention back to Lilac. “That girl is a monster.”

“That girl is a freak.” she heard instead, a voice barely recollected and warped over time and yes, that was a seething dislike for the woman across from her coalescing inside her.

“I love her, and I’m a good Christian but Jesus H. Christ. You know if they’d invented some of those tests a few years ago, I woulda-” she shook her head, a pleasant look on her face as though this were all just a nice ice-breaker. Perhaps to this woman it was.

She restrained herself from hissing that if a child being autistic or one that had special needs would make her not want to be a mother, then she shouldn’t have been a mother at all. Or to have the decency to find a home that could and would care for Adelaide as needed.

“I could have sworn I locked the doors.” she said aloud because really, she was absolutely sure now that she did.

“Well. Must’ve forgot about the back one. Although I have to tell you, Addy will always find a way in.” she told her, “She has a bug up her ass about this house. Always has.” her eyes wandered the room, on the finely made wooden furniture and the blatantly expensive nature of the items in the room, including her five sewing machines. One of which an antique and built with its own station and treadle, one a vintage, and the third a more modern one that had gushing reviews, a Baby Lock cross-over machine, and a personal favorite, a Pfaff model. She had an industrial as well for tougher fabrics but that was still in the box. The larger spools of fabric were seen from an open cabinet door. All the wood furniture had matching fine carvings and ormolu with clawfoot feet, heavy and dark. The rug beneath them was deep sapphire blue to match the heavy velvet drapes she put on the edge of the lovely window and in a valance above. She did keep the softer white curtains beneath but she would eventually pull them down and add lace to them. She even bought a fancy muggle adjustable dress form instead of just charming her own. She would make her own of course, and one for Lav again but if she did wind up making commission pieces then she supposed it was handy. “You have the loveliest things.” the woman complimented. “Did your father or mother pick them out? Where are they, by the way?”

“I’m an orphan.” she cleared that out of the way quickly. “It’s just my goddaughter and I.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.” the woman offered though Lilac had long since been able to tell sincere apologies. Not that there was much reason for apologies at all.

“It was long before I could remember.” she allowed easily. And then, because she was clearly not ready to leave and Lilac was at least familiar with manners (of which apparently she was not, tromping into someone else’s house without so much as a by-your-leave) she asked “Would you like some tea?”

When in doubt, a good cuppa was the answer after all. The woman immediately looked delighted at what she clearly saw as an invitation to linger.

She was summarily told about how the woman came to California to be a star but that had never panned out, being a ‘proud Virginian’ and something about an old dominion, the housewarming gift she brought to help get rid of ‘bad juju’. It was a bundle of sage, the woman explained, after two cups of tea and talking about her doggy daycare and bad spirits or memories, finally left. She picked through the bundle and set it down. She wasn’t in the practice of shamanic smudging, she had other ways to shoo off or otherwise ‘cleanse’ ghosts and shades but it looked well enough to use in a potion. She hadn’t been able to find cauldrons exactly as she knew them but had transfigured several kettle pots from a ‘flea’ market into passable cauldrons on their way to the house beforehand. She’d had to transfigure a good many things but that hardly bothered her. They were still in their boxes as well since she would need to find one particular room to ward up safely for the more volatile or sensitive potions.

She was also especially glad she still had the elaborate potions kit hidden in a mokeskin bag alongside her photo albums, and a handful of precious items. She knew that her habit of keeping an emergency stock of things on her person at all times would come in handy eventually. That needy and arrogant wand could safely conjure and duplicate things flawlessly, including things like food and ingredients so at least she didn’t have to worry about resupplying the more magical plants and animal parts. A shame that hadn’t been its legacy back home.

xXx

“...Oh.” Lilac blinked down at the amount of food she’d made. It was too much. Far too much for just she and Lavender. Her fingers twitched, ungloved for cooking and the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, tucked into a high waisted long shell pink skirt. She had a sturdy apron edged in lace on over it. “I made too much.” she stared down at the spread before her.

She’d by-and-large lived in Grimmauld after viciously remodeling it to spite Walburga.

Walburga her grandmother, because Sirius and James had gone behind Lily’s back when Lilac was born to use a blood ritual that added him as a third parent. It meant that more Black features showed up in her, besides the ones from her grandmother Dorea Black and it meant her place as Heiress Black was impossible to contest. It meant she was a Pureblood given her two very much Pureblooded fathers; her mother more or less blotted out in the eyes of those that things like that mattered to. She was just as furious with Sirius as she was with Grimmauld Place in general when she’d learned. Nevertheless it became her home, and thus home to much of her extended family. There’d never been less than four in the house at any given moment, whether it was godchildren and their parents coming over or living with her outright. The only exception were festivities when Molly was still around, where they’d all gather at the Burrow. When she died, it seemed to just phase over to Grimmauld. Ginny had been entirely uninterested in general homemaking or cookery skills and spells, and Molly had taken Lilac under her wing in that regard, instead teaching it all to her. Molly’s portrait sat proudly overlooking the dining room and often arguing with several Blacks over how her own Black mother was more or less excommunicated.

Arthur had a Black grandmother too, to think of it. Blasted off the tree for marrying a Weasley but a Black nonetheless.

Inbreeding Purebloods aside, she pursed her lips. It would take time, she thought to herself soothingly before promptly packing some of the food away. Perhaps her neighbors would like it.

xXx

“Oh. Oh my.” she raised her brows at the latex suit in the attic before turning her eyes elsewhere. There was someone here, carefully hiding from view. Her eyes swept past dusty old toys and furniture. Whoever was up here didn’t feel malignant. Maybe even a little...Nervous? Shy? She climbed down, and then brought up her cleaning supplies. Some were home brewed, only a few were muggle based- but there was one, a mixture of chemicals that she remembered using way, way back when in a small perfectly normal house in a perfectly normal neighborhood. It did wonders on near everything that her wixen mixes didn’t do much against if she wasn’t casting spells. In the time she scrubbed the floors and cleaned the furniture pieces long forgotten up here, the evasive spirit moved and hid away like a game of hide-and-seek. Something in the air almost felt like whoever it was there was having a bit of fun with it. She also went rather aggressively to clean the windows so that actual light would come through, and opened them to air it out a bit. A spritz of one brew would keep bugs and any animals away from them, lest they try to come in. Once she managed to get it to her liking, she went back down and brought up one of the portable sewing machines, as well and a long thick rug to slap down onto the floor. It was softer, plusher than most of the other carpets and rugs that were already down or slated to be spread; there was a lot of house to fix to her liking after all and it was much slower going when she was doing it by herself without magic. The only rug softer in the house was the one in Lavender’s room.

According to the little label she ripped off as she unrolled it, it was Sacramento green and really quite lovely with blue looping around the edges in a ribbon like pattern. The smaller items she could take downstairs to give a good coat of paint or touch ups but there were several that would be awkward trying to angle down by herself. She plopped down onto the rug and began to sew up what amounted to a very big pillowcase in a thick fabric that her machine briefly struggled against. It was in a buttery soft yellow shade. She would hang up long cloth on the ceiling to soften it up some more as well but she would complete this oversized bean-bag lump bed pillow thing first. Which meant that when she was done with the sewing machine and had turned the thing right side out for an almost lamb-skin supple softness, she turned her attention to the actual bag that would go in the outer covering and contain whatever stuffing she put in it. That went much quicker since the fabric was more forgiving than the thicker but much more pleasing to the touch cover. And, large child-friendly and colorful blue zippers to open or close them as needed. So she found herself once more going down and bringing more materials up. This time for stuffing- she had found a place that sold ‘compressed’ cushioning alongside industrial size amounts of stuffing of all sorts- and a place with cheap recycled regrind beans from a packing and shipping company. Lavender followed her this time, having gotten up from her nap and with her she dragged one of her pillows to groggily watch. Lilac stuffed it near to full so it would actually retain its shape and then leaned back on the carpet with a pleased sigh. A few hours was hardly much time at all for a project that came out with something this size. Lilac immediately leapt onto it with bright exuberant giggles and she smiled from where she lay sprawled on the floor.

But there was still more to do, so she got up and started measuring the angled ceiling to cover. It helped bounce the light around more- and speaking of, she’d swap out that sad little bulb. And, she thought to herself, glow stars. Daisy, Dudley’s daughter that came over every holiday, had brought the little plastic toys in and Fred and George had expounded on them in a more magical sense in their shop. She would need to add that to the ever growing list of things to get for when she next went out. She put the fabric up on the walls and ceiling while Lilac kicked her feet and hummed to herself, pretty golden brown eyes watching her work.

“What’s this room for?” she asked eventually. “Is it mine?”

“Not quite, flittermouse.” she told her absently. “The stairs are a little more demanding than I’d like for you. This room was just too sad and lonely. I thought it could use some brightening up.”

“Then what’s this for?”

“Resting, of course. Comfortably.”

“Is it for you?”

“No, not for me either. If there are spirits in this house, even if some are bad there might also be some that are good.” her eyes flicked to where the shade was currently hiding.

“Like Mrs. Norris?”

Ah. The old cat had taken to her when she pulled her out of rubble just after the Final Battle and the loss of Filch. She went with her to Grimmauld and she must have had some sort of magical breed in her bloodline because she was able to shred Walburga’s portrait horribly. Her grave was a beloved little space in the back garden and her ghost stubbornly stuck around. She wasn’t the friendliest by a long shot but she was a good cat. A good guard too for when children grew to unruly teenagers trying to sneak out or sneak back in.

...Maybe she should look into getting a cat. It might help entertain Lav while she worked on the house, and it would be nice to have a familiar again. It might feel a little less lonely.

“Maybe not quite like Mrs. Norris, but yes.” she answered as she eyed the bare light bulb. A green lampshade with a fringe to match the carpet. And standing lamps with the same, more things on the list. “Let’s go to the shops. And you can get any spirit children some toys, hm? Maybe coloring books.” she coaxed and Lav thought about that for a moment before nodded and bouncing back over. “Alright, I’ll go down first. Wait until I’m down so if you fall I can catch you. Oh, leave the pillow, dear. I’ll make you a new one.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mimosa rolled her shoulders and Magnolia crossed her arms as they eyed the house they’d just bought, their cats Fuchsia and Freesia on their leashes to keep them close. “Mimi,” Magnolia began, “You’re the one with all the Death senses, how many ghosts are there?”

“You shouldn’t just assume I have Death senses because of some old trinkets and a folk tale Maggie.”

“Can’t fool me that easily.” she said pointedly and Mimi grinned at her.

“Seventeen.” she answered. Mimosa and Magnolia were magical identical twins, though they had some differences of course. The main one being that Mimi had a lightning bolt scar on her face and her eyes were a pale grandidierite green (or rather, killing curse green) and Maggie had deeper jade green eyes so it did make them unfortunately easy to tell apart. Their inherent magical connection was bolstered by a few secret rituals found in the old Potter and Black Grimoires both, done very secretly so as not to alert their parents or brother. One or two did come out into the open when Mimosa died but they were the more traditional Gaelic ones from the Potter Grimoire and not technically banned or considered Dark the way all blood rituals were under the Ministry. Their brother Aster suspected but he’d never confronted them about it or gone to one of their three parents.

It had apparently been pretty controversial when their dads used an old blood ritual to put Paddy-daddy in as a third parent when they were all still in prams and it was only through a demanding legal team that they hadn’t faced any legal repercussion for using a blood ritual. It wasn’t exactly uncommon for Pureblood husbands to have lovers on the side, but the open relationship stag-dad kept with Paddy, and that Paddy and Lily shared friendly co-parenting roles while sharing stag-dad had also been a source of scandal. But with old names like Black and Potter, and blood that made all three children Pureblooded, there wasn’t much to be done about the whole thing. Given their Potter grandmother was already a Black (and the rather notorious blood ritualist that had aided in the destruction of the Dark Lord with the protection of the children), there wasn’t exactly much of their mother prevalent in their looks. But they did get the slim graceful neck and elegant arms and shoulders and hands.

Unfortunately, unlike their older brother, they did not gain either their mother or Paddy’s tall genes and instead got their father’s small stature.

Glossy blue-black curls, most decidedly Black as opposed to the half wavy half curly mess of black-brown Potter hair, but with the warm tawny skin a not so distant Sri Lankan Potter handed down the line and with the curvy pear shape that the bottom heavy Potters also tended towards, all hips and arse and thighs and less of the long torso of the Blacks and more the leggy frame of the Potters.

(It also made to be terribly embarrassing when Paddy-daddy was feeling frisky with da and groped at his arse and wax poetic about it. In public. In front of their children. Blegh.)

Mimi and Maggie were twins with more rituals put into their connection than would be advisable; and when Mimi stopped aging so did Maggie. Most of the time they used charms to disguise their very youthful looks but those only went so far in the wixen side of things. Wherein came the aptly and succinctly named Doors, created with slivers of the Veil in an entirely safe portal created to boost the economy and reputation after the ruination caused by the second war. Fantastical holiday destinations, places that connect to different worlds for the modern wixen to explore. And besides those ones, Mystery Doors that could be privately bought that also ported to similar worlds but ones that didn’t have Ministry embassies hidden from the natives of that world and thus were free of magical laws and policies unlike the more commercial Doors. They weren’t as carefully combed through for visitors as the other ones and presented a little bit more danger in that sense but there was some amount of research done to at least ensure the similarity of the world it connected to on the other side and to ascertain livable conditions.

Their Door was chosen because it was incredibly similar to their own world, only without the wand waving wixen and societies in it, instead there were hedge wixen and shamans and wiccans, and witch hunter societies hidden among the muggle populations and the magic was not quite the same. Their more mystic Beings weren’t quite the same either but that wasn’t very detailed given that it was really a brief comb through that was done before being sold as a Mystery Door. Then there were the magical nexus points that seemed littered everywhere- this house was one of them. It was Dark magic, that was for certain at least.

“Only seventeen?”

“The house was only built in the 20s, and it only really became a nexus then.” Mimi said, peering at the papers they’d been given. “And it looks like only a handful of families actually lived in the building. At one point it was a university house- oh, two women were murdered then.”

“Think they’re here too?”

“Dunno. Not really sure about the parameters of the whole nexus part of it, if they need to be murdered or anyone who dies on the property become ghosts or not.”

“I’m sure we can find out.” Maggie asserted then, reaching down to scoop up Freesia. She and Fuchsia came from the same litter and had almost the exact same tortie pattern, though Fuchsia had the smallest sliver of white fur on her face and both with stunning green eyes. The two were a forest cat and Kneazle mix, very large and talkative and more than pleased to add a little mischief by bothering Aster’s owl or taunting daddy when he was in proper Padfoot form and of course very intelligent even besides the familiar bonds. “We should probably get a car. I don’t think I liked that taxi business and I’d rather run by my own schedule if we can’t just fly from place to place on our brooms.”

“We could,” Mimi pointed out as they crossed the street, “We’d just need to put up illusions. There aren’t any laws about flying in muggle areas here.”

“Well yes but the Weasleys have that flying car, why can’t we have one too? And then we can take Fifi and Fee with us when we go out, and we can ride around with no one the wiser.”

“Have to get the spells and charms he used for that. Daddy only knows how to do it for motorbikes.”

“I still think that was just an excuse for him to keep using his bike instead of getting a car for muggle side visits.”

“Well,” Mimi considered, “Maybe. Will you take the master suite? It’s got a fireplace.”

“I’d rather not.” Maggie scrunched up her nose. “Save it for mum and da and daddy I wager. They’ll be coming by next week with Aster and his brood.”

“Can’t even let us properly settle.” Mimi sighed. “Then the other rooms will have to be set up. Do you think the morning room on the blueprint here on the first floor could be made into a separate room for the kids?”

“It’s smaller than the other rooms.”

“Well yes, but I mean more as just a play room, y’know, for all the kids when we get visits.” Mimi corrected.

“A communal playroom? Seems a smart choice.”

“And then we can fit a big dollhouse and tea party table in the room and other big fancy toys.”

“And have them whinge at their parents that they want them back home too.” Maggie shared a grin with her. “I’ve no doubt they’ll bring Moony and Wormy with them, at the very least for dinner. Should we make up places for them too?”

“Wormy can have the burnt orange room, Moony and Tonks can take the yellow room...But that leaves Moony’s puppies. And Aster’s kids too.”

“I think they’re still keeping Mari in their room with them.” Maggie frowned. “But Giddy and Lettie rooming with Teddy, Johnny and Cassie? Morning room might need to be just a room and we’d have to find another still.”

“I suppose we can find out proper when we get inside. Do you think they’d protest the loft or basement if we’d done them up?” Mimi also frowned. The ripple of some sort of ward told well where the estate really began as they got closer and Mimi leaned down to pull Fuchsia up against her chest.

“We could do as some of those house rags, clean up and refurbish the basement into a living den instead, make the drawing room into a guest room.” Maggie suggested.

“We’ll figure it out as we look around I think. Front garden and back garden seem spacious.”

“Think we should add some color?” Maggie asked.

“We should. I’ve looked at some pamphlets about native Californian plants and we could add some of those, get in some birds and butterflies and bees, pollinators besides our own pretty things.”

“Birdies for our kitties?”

“Only if they’re not fast enough.” they shared a sly glance. “We could get a lemonade berry hedge. Their berries can be boiled and steeped and taste like lemonade.”

“Hence the name.” Maggie nodded as they made their way up onto the porch.

“The chaparral yucca flowers at the end of a decade long life and with it comes yucca moths. I managed to get a list of potions ingredients for California before I left and while this world is different, some things should remain the same. They have yucca farms hidden in over under M.A.C.U.S.A though so we’d be better off ordering through the Door regardless of the exorbitant shipping fees. It’s still a good plant though and the moths are very pretty. Toyon is an evergreen that gives fruit, mind it has to be processed first but still. It’s also great for native bugs, birds, mammals and all according to this. And of course, the fruit can be used in some potions.”

“Makes sense, making potions from native plants.”

“We can also get a California blue elderberry-” Mimi paused and then sighed in exasperation. “No, I’m not going to try to make a wand from a different elderberry.” she grumbled and Maggie snickered at her expense. The three Hallows were clingy, demanding sometimes and hilariously jealous. Maggie had gotten an invisibility cloak one year and the Potter cloak (that chose Mimi in blatant defiance of the family tradition of eldest gets the cloak, i.e., Aster and then after him Maggie) had wrapped itself around Mimi and tugged her away. This luckily only happened in front of Maggie and Aster and Aster didn’t think to question it at all.

Mimi was the Chosen One long before she ever got hold of all three Hallows, Maggie reflected. The stone was the least competitive comparatively, but Mimi couldn’t wear black gemstones or crystals or they would find themselves suspiciously shattered.

“Other plants?”

“California asters.” she beamed and Maggie returned the gesture brightly.

“Brill!” she cheered. It was always good fun to send their own namesakes to eachother. “More?”

“California monkey flowers. Also good to have on hand for potions. Tree poppies are another hedge type plant, hoary Californian fuchsia,” she squeeze-cuddled her cat, “Hummingbird sage, red buckwheat, grevilleas long john, red salvia. We can manage those with a bit of wandwork and soil potions to make sure they settle well in the gardens.”

“And then we’ll have the usual sprinkled about?”

“Naturally.” Mimi nodded. They lived in Mimi’s inherited house beforehand, the twins, 13 Grimmauld Place. After their aggressive remodeling and clean up of course, which they told their parents and Aster ‘yes, we cleared out the Dark artifacts and books, promise’. They believed it any rate, didn’t make it true. Maggie had been a Ravenclaw, there was no way she would have pushed the books away into the Black Vault (of which they cleared of the books to hoard in Grimmauld) and Mimi was a Slytherin and if there was useful magic to be found, she wanted to know about it. Still, they made Grimmauld far more inviting, including the stunning back garden they’d cultivated with the help of Maggie’s sometimes-boyfriend Neville.

(Of whom they sneakily provided some helpful potions and fertilizers that might be banned under the Ministry for being inherently Dark or at least Dark leaning Gray.)

They would also have, of course, a purple magnolia tree and chocolate mimosa tree. Both of which in large tree planters fed with special potions to keep them from propagating outside of their designated area and not hinder other plants around them. Another potion will be used to make sure the mimosa pods will be duds, little more than nutrition pellets for birds and other small animals that might run about in gardens. Mimosa trees were aggressive after all and had to be curbed. Otherwise there would be a wide array of colorful blossoms, anemones, dahlias, delphiniums, peonies, roses (of several varieties and colors of course), sweet william, carnations, dianthus, goldenrod, coral bells- all sorts of flowers mostly. Some in suspended orbs, some planted in long strips.

The brews (not always necessarily potions) they would need to soak in the soil would keep certain animals away from the more dangerous plants for them (most notably their cats who usually knew better but better safe than sorry) but wouldn’t hinder the insects and spiders and moths and bees and all as long as they weren’t destructive pests. For which they had another brew for. The beauty of their back garden had been a real point of pride in Grimmauld and with the extra room here they could broaden it all.

(They should perhaps call in Nev and his crew through the Door for it if they wanted it all done and ready to be shown off immediately. Maggie will send a letter later in the day.)

“The weather here is beautiful, we could get a gazebo for the back.” Maggie said thoughtfully as they circled around the house first.

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” Mimi peered across the back garden. “And privacy drapes. Thick netting in a sort of dull pink color?”

“Excellent.”

“We could have outdoor cooking as well, I’m sure da would love that.”

“And something for the kids.”

“Naturally.”

“Should we write this down you think?” Maggie suggested then and Mimi blinked in surprise.

“Fair point.” she said, putting Fuchsia down to open the cat backpack for the large cat to sit in so she’d have free hands. “These are so useful,” she mused, pulling out a muggle paper notepad and glittery gel pen to scribble down things. “I already have a list for the plants. I think I’ll just put down playset for the kids and we can go off that when we go shopping.”

“And for the other kids, it’s likely that they’ll bring Fred’s whole family with when they see how much space we have here.”

“A full family affair? Invite everyone proper then shouldn’t we for a welcoming party? Should we get party ware then? They make all sorts of interesting things for that on the muggle side you know, and Mr. Weasley would love that.”

“Enough to enchant a car?”

“If you want a car, I suppose at worst we could actually pay him to do it and let him look around at all the muggle things in our new house.”

“For now let’s focus on this first week alone and the inside.” by now they had circled back around to the front and made their way inside.

“Pretty.”

“Could use a runner perhaps, make it a bit more welcoming.”

xXx

“I’m not sure if we should do that.” Maggie frowned, peering into the small hall closet on the first floor. They’d looked through the rooms and had already begun buying up furniture that they shrunk away from prying muggle eyes to haul around more. The drawing room, kitchen, and the bathrooms were all ready with either furniture, fixtures and general goods that one might find in those particular rooms. The corridors had new runners, a handful of oil paintings hung up of vibrant flowers or top view ornamental ponds. They had the same charms as the most recent formal family photo they put in the drawing room, in that they would freeze into a certain position when there were muggles about. The other rooms, the master suite, the teal room, the study, the morning room or the loft and basement were currently being thought over. And, potentially, closets and cupboards like the one they were debating over to be expanded in much the way a wizarding tent would be. A few runes and some blood in a special potion meant they wouldn’t need to hire a team from some wixen company to do it for them and even better that they couldn’t get into any legal trouble here on this side of the Door for it.

“Well what are we going to use it for anyways, we could always use an extra room if we’re going to be hosting guests-”

“We could fix up the basement, it isn’t so terrible down there-”

“Absolutely not, it feels filthy, I won’t have guests sitting around in that muck. And I’m half sure there’s some wild animal holing up down there.”

“I suppose it’s not like we’re going to have many muggles up this way- oh. Speaking of,”

“You’re going to die in here.” a young woman warned them. Such was how they met their neighbor Constance, her daughter Adelaide and told that the young woman would be finding her way onto the estate at will. Presumably her mother would follow.

“...D’you think we should add a few wards now?”

“That would probably be best.”

xXx

“Oh Nev,” Maggie sighed. “Why did we ever break up?” she sighed dreamily and Neville flashed her a cheeky grin. He was burly and tall and beefy with honey blond hair and soft dark eyes. Sweaty and dirty, he looked a sight guzzling down aam panna with his bare chest flexing when he moved.

“Long hours working for the latest one.” Mimi rolled her eyes. “Never getting to meet between your shifts and his work hours.”

“Well I don’t have shifts now.” Maggie said, eyes on a bead of sweat rolling down his chest.

“Ugh, just shag already.” Mimi scrunched up her face, disgusted.

“Not ‘til the work’s done.” Nev told her apologetically.

“So I have to deal with this sexual tension until then? No thanks.” she shook her head, getting up. “I’m going to the shops. I’ll be out allday.” she stressed. “Maybe some of the evening as well. Please, make sure you air wherever you go out before I get back.”

It was an issue when their times lined up back at Grimmauld that they’d go at it like crazy absolutely anywhere and everywhere or sneak off together if they were all out in groups.

xXx

“...So this place sells inflatable sets? And other ‘party rental’ things?”

“Yes.”

“And some of them are for adult use as well?”

“That’s correct, mm-hmm.”

“And it’s usually rental but you’ll sell pieces?”

“For the right price, yup. Would you like to see our selection?”

“Yes please.”

It was good of her to decide to go out, she thought to herself forty minutes later, and good that they had gotten around to setting up cards for their bank accounts. At least now there’ll be plenty of entertainment for any good old knees-ups for adults and children both. Which was better, considering they had three days before their parents, Moony (and his wife and kids) and Wormy, and Aster, Fred and their kids come over. And then likely not long after would come a full blown gathering. Of course, that wasn’t much time at all and certainly not long enough for Neville and his crew to be done with the gardens. Well, she thought to herself, they do need more permanent pieces than just the things she’d bought here.

Which was how, twenty more minutes later;

“You’re telling me this is a shed?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“That looks like a rather small house.”

“We have had people convert these two story sheds into small living spaces or granny units- little places for in-laws and all.” the man said and oh- that sounds nice doesn’t it? They added two more rooms from small closets on the first floor (the ground floor seemed too risky if there would be muggles barging in- at least they put up warning wards and other wards.) but it didn’t hurt to have a little extra ready for extended family.

“Really?”

“It takes some work,” he said, “Electrical, plumbing if you’re gonna add water of any sort, insulation and ventilation but it’s been done.”

She bought two of them, confounded the store people since she didn’t have a vehicle and shrunk and lightened them to put in her tote bag with the other purchases. They were a lot prettier than a wizarding tent too! She would expand them a little inside of course since they were overall very small but she was quite happy. There was more to buy at this store though, so she continued to peruse.

xXx

“How unfortunate.” she frowned after she returned. They’d found a body while they were digging around. It caused quite a ruckus, police and all scuttling in their back garden and halting work there.

“They’re certain it was a house maid. Shot through the eye.” Maggie frowned and Nev laid a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Still in uniform.”

“I’ll tell our parents to wait another week.” Mimi said. “And I’ll have a look around for that ghost.”

The ghost, she found out soon, given the woman was lurking by where her body had been exhumed, was the old house maid. And her name was Moira O’Hara, said the house was cursed and that while her body might be free, that didn’t mean her spirit was. When Mimi offered to send her on (there were spells after all for ghosts that didn’t want to linger, and even more an ability that Mimi had since dying herself) but the red haired woman declined for the moment. She would wait to see the murderer condemned.

Which was to say, former resident Constance Langdon who had three dead children in the house, one of whom apparently wasn’t aware he was dead at all. She’d murdered her husband as well, but had gotten rid of his body entirely. Something about Moira felt just...Good. On that whimsy feeling, she decided to have a private cuppa next door the very next day where Constance seemed quite anxious about the investigation that no doubt would soon be in the papers. And if she put a few spells and charms to make the woman burst into the local precinct to admit to the murders she committed, that was her business, Maggie. Besides, it helped to clean up the rest of the investigation that was taking up their gardens so they could continue their work.

It took three days for it to hit the papers and she brought a copy to Moira. Turns out, she had one son (a boy with craniodiaphyseal dysplasia) killed on request because child protective services would have taken him from the home and the man she’d had do it was found and locked away as well. Locked away again, to be precise. The paper also mentioned her oldest son Tate, a school shooter that was killed in the house as well after performing a massacre at Westfield High, and a young daughter named Rose that died from health complications; she’d had no eyes and was the only dead Langdon that hadn’t been murdered. The man who killed Beauregard, the neglected son, had lived in the house beforehand with his wife and two young daughters. All three of whom burned to death in the house after the wife discovered her husband’s affair with Constance.

Their estate was dubbed Murder House. Adelaide would keep the house next door and would regularly have an independent care company check on her and be on call as needed.

xXx

“Where did you even find these?” Maggie asked as she peered up at the two two-floor sheds. “Sheds? Not like any shed I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s what he said.” Mimi shrugged.

“Yanks.” Maggie shook her head. “And you’re going to wizarding tent them?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And those boxes there?”

“For when we have the big party of course.”

“And those ones?”

“Patio things.” she waved off.

“You bought all of this on the day they found the body?”

“Yes I did. I’ll likely go out again later to furnish these as well. Now are you going to help or not?”

“Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

Turning them into three bedroom spaces with bathrooms, and a kitchenette mixed sitting area was short work with the elder wand in hand, more magical means for plumbing available alongside the kitchenette and lighting so they didn’t need to do all the mess the man at the depot had talked about. The windows were given pretty blue shutters and flower boxes. And the sheds themselves given brick facades to match the house itself.

“So the master suite is for mum, da and daddy. The two guest rooms, the burnt orange and yellow can be for Wormy and Moody and Tonks, the two expanded rooms for the kids and the blue room will be the playroom since you like the ceiling of the morning room so much.”

“And because it’s bigger than the blue room, I don’t know what they had on that blueprint.”

“Maybe it’s an outdated one?” Mimi shrugged.

“Big enough for Nev and I both. And…”

“And?”

“Well, maybe soon but not yet.” she sighed dreamily.

“Are you thinking of having a baby?”

“We’ve talked about it before.” she said.

“Yes, I remember.”

“And now that Nev’s company doesn’t need him on every job and they’ve expanded a bit…”

“You want to have a baby here? In this world?”

“Maybe not permanently, no, but it’s a lot quieter here. Won’t have to deal with rags and rabid fans and old Voldemort sympathizers. It’s not like the Door is going anywhere.”

“Isn’t Nev still on call?”

“If we bring the Door here, it won’t much matter as long as he has a portkey. And it’s not like it’ll be always and forever.”

“If it’s what you want, I’m certainly not going to stop you.” Mimi raised her brows. “Mum, da and daddy will be overjoyed I’m sure.” she grinned and Maggie grinned back. “Are you gonna marry beforehand or elope?”

“We’ll...Marry.” she admitted shyly. “Not yet but we were thinking winter.”

“This coming winter?”

“It’s- you’ve seen the wedding scrapbook.” she fanned her face. Their skin wasn’t much for showing off a blush but it was clear that her cheeks were getting all warm. “We’ve might not have had a very steady relationship-”

“Says the witch who had one boyfriend ever, with the longest breaks only taking up a few months,”

“But it’s something we talked about before too.”

“Yes, I remember.” she reiterated. “I suppose I hadn’t thought it would come so soon.” her eyes drifted. “...I think I’ll need to do a sweep before then. Some of those ghosts, even if they’re shying away from our magic aren’t friendly feeling.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that beforehand?”

“Something in the house seems unsure about us, wary with our magic so it wasn’t an issue before.” she shrugged. “Some of the ghosts are just shy, some of the younger children especially but…” she cocked her head to the side. “There’s one that seems to be like a puppet, full to the gills of the magic here. I’m not sure if he’s as…” she frowned. “As inherently malevolent as some of the other ghosts seem to be that have a little less of the sludge magic in them or if the house just chose him to act as a vehicle of its cruelty. The magic here, I think it affects muggles the longer they stay here, regardless of if they’ve died or not. Our magical cores naturally act as a barrier and sort of repel that influence.”