Hiro watched his sister speak to the lady of the house. He had to hold back a chuckle at the look on her face.

“She speaks the truth, Narcissa,” the man in black robes told her. “We met with both of the princes this morning in Dumbledore’s office.”

“Severus, I trust you you know that but why would Japanese royals be in England let alone at Hogwarts?” Narcissa, the blonde bosorcoi female, asked.

“For gods’ sake!” Hiro exclaimed. “Our father is the Japanese ambassador to both the magical and non magical communities! He’s here because it’s his fucking job!”

“Hotoke, it’s ok” Vi whispered.

“Then why did he bring you?” Narcissa shouted.

Everyone stared at her stunned, except for him. He’d provoked her on purpose.

“My curse is what brought us here,” Hiro turned to his sister in shock. “Our father, Ryuunosuke Oda, was cursed by Baba Yaga while he was studying in Russia at Koldovstoretz. She told him his oldest child would be conceived on American soil and Comanche land.”

“And I was,” Iv continued. “She said his next child would not be one but two and one would be a girl. She said they would be conceived on a blood moon when the veil between worlds was thinnest. The girl would be cursed with a terrible beauty that would beget a terrible hunger for blood that would only grow as she ages. With her growing hunger would come power.”

“Power that would only continue to grow as she did and become more volatile as she grew,” Vi moved to the window as she continued to speak. “She would be shunned by those she would call family. Tortured and starved by one who craves power. She would never know peace or love in the country of her birth. Only her mates would be able to help her control the power she possesses. Only they would be able to sate her thirst for blood. Baba Yaga told him he would lose his love because of his daughter. So when I was born, he begged our mother to give me up for adoption. He refused to tell her why he was so insistent.”

Hiro watched her lean her head against the glass of the window.

“Mother of course refused without a good reason,” Vi’s voice became quieter. “She wanted a little girl. She wanted to pass all the things her mother taught her on to me. She never got the chance.”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a worn photograph.

“Hotoke, you always ask me why I say you look like her,” she murmured staring at the photograph. “This is the only picture of her I was able to save. It’s the last picture I ever took with her.”

She held the picture out to him. He stepped forward and took it with shaking hands. Bricriu and Bastian came to stand on either side of him.

“I remember that day,” Bastian whispered touching their mother’s face in the picture. “Okaasan was telling us about her people. She made that dress when she found out she was having a girl. This was right before she found out about Hotoke. She was telling us about powwows and the different types of dances. She was so happy. She loved us all so much.”

Hiro had never seen Bastian cry before but now he sank to his knees and wept. Vi didn’t move from the window but she turned her head and looked at them sadly.

“It’s my fault okaasan is gone,” she mumbled.

Bastian’s head snapped up at her words.

“Don’t you think that for a second!” He managed to get out through his tears.

“Bastian, you and I both know it’s true,” she smiled sadly. “She was trying to bind my power so ojiisan would have less of a reason to target me. She shouldn’t have been using that ritual in the first place if she didn’t have a sacrifice in place. Unless…”

Her eyes widened as a thought hit her.

“No, she wouldn’t,” she whispered horrified at whatever train of thought she was having.

Hotoke looked at his brothers in confusion. He didn’t understand.

“Unless what, Vi?” Bash pressed her.

Vi shook her head. Seemed she didn’t want to continue her thought.

“Unless your mother knew she was pregnant and was planning on using the child as the sacrifice for the ritual,” the man who’d been standing by Hadrian finished. “If I’m thinking of the same ritual you seem to be, Princess, the sacrifice of an unborn child would not be enough to complete the ritual.”

“Perhaps not, but it would explain why Hiro is so attuned to my magic and how he is able to siphon it better than Bricriu ever could, before he was taken anyway,” she pointed out. “It is also possible that the ritual she used was not to bind my magic to contain it. Rather, she sought to bind me to Hotoke so he could siphon the excess magic off before it or I went out of control. Gods know I have a terrible temper that I have a hard time controlling sometimes. That option makes more sense to me. I just can’t see okaasan willingly sacrificing a baby, unborn or not, just to restrain my magic.”

Hotoke looked back at the picture.

“She was really beautiful,” he whispered to himself, running a finger over her image.

“She was one of the most beautiful people, inside and out, that I’ve ever met,” the man beside Hadrian told him with a small smile.

“How did you meet her?” Hotoke asked him.

“I was traveling,” he shrugged. “Wandered onto Comanche land by accident and somehow ended up as her guest at a powwow.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure she was already pregnant at the time.”

Hotoke gazed at him curiously.

“She had this glow about her that was hard to miss,” he explained. “I met your father that same day too. It was after the powwow at dinner when I met him. I have to say he was very much in love with her. Anyone with eyes could see they were meant for each other. Their auras were very intertwined too.”

“What do you mean?” Vi seemed curious now. He supposed it was because she hadn’t heard any stories about their mother from anyone but their ojiisan who hated her.

“The best way I can describe it it like the story about the red string of fate.”

“Uncle Regulus, when did you learn to see auras?” Hadrian asked.

The man, now named as Regulus, shrugged. Clearly he didn’t want to talk about it. Hotoke narrowed his eyes at the man. He found it odd that he couldn’t get a read on the man and that bothered him. The man himself was relatively unremarkable, in Hotoke’s humble opinion. His height was average, meaning he stood about Bricriu’s height. His hair was a rich black and hung just above his shoulders. His cheekbones were sharp and accentuated the fact that his eyes looked sunken into his head. His skin was remarkably pale, suggesting he spent a great deal of time indoors, but unblemished. Despite his eyes being sunken into his face, Hotoke could tell that they were dark in color. He had an aquiline nose that didn’t seem to match the rest of his features. All in all, rather an unremarkable man. But it was the fact he was so unremarkable that bothered Hotoke the most.