the masterplan [hazel]

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

29 December 2026

Christmas had come and past, and had left no real imprint on Damian's life. Most of his family was in the UK, and while Damian had wanted to see his mother, Ana had convinced him to stay and have a Christmas lunch with her and Cas. It had been a quiet affair, the three of them catching up with one another. Damian was glad of his decision to move to London, though already he was itching to go abroad once more. He'd never been able to stay in one place for very long. When he had voiced this concern at the table, Cas had suggested something... very un-Cas-like. He'd purchased a magical RV and they could spend a week or two travelling around the Middle East.

At this comment, Damian had nearly spat out his drink. Cas? Proposing something impromptu and somewhat irresponsible? The Middle East hadn't been Damian's first choice - he was rather partial to Japan, or at least somewhere that wasn't entirely war torn. But he had been so shocked that he hadn't had the time for a counter proposal, and suddenly they were agreeing on a trip in the new year.

In the meantime, Damian planned on surveying some of the magical hot spots in Britain. Bristol hadn't come very high on the list, but it was an utter ballache to try and arrange a portkey out of London during the holidays. He'd opted to take the train instead, at least knowing he could apparate home. And there was a place he was rather curious about...

The Ivory Room had previously been owned by Asher Burke, who had headed up the department of Mysteries. Thanks to Damian's sister, he was now imprisoned. Damian had known the Burkes for some time, having run in the same circles as them. He felt no remorse over Asher's dilemma, only that it was a shame that a good name had gone to ruin. He'd also heard rumours that the youngest sister (and in Damian's opinion the most beautiful of the bunch) was running the club now. They were the same age, and had spent many years listening to their parents talk of arrangements before their worlds started to fall apart.

Damian pushed open the doors to the club, the location of which he'd dragged out of Ana. She'd come here as part of her mission for Potter, which Damian had been none the wiser to at the time. The fact that both of his siblings had been actively involved in the disestablishment of the Purifiers had taken Damian by surprise - but he was quick to dampen his emotions and scan the room for a flash of golden brown hair. He spotted Hazel at once, and hitched a smirk on his face.

"Hazel Burke, as I live in breathe. Didn't they tell you that clubs and casinos are where songbirds go to die?" asked Damian, quirking a brow at the youngest Burke.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

29 December 2026

It had been the most depressing Christmas of all time. Hazel could usually be found abroad with her sister, fruity cocktails in hand and doing decidedly un-Christmas things to celebrate their freedom. Every now and then, Asher’s guilt trips would work well enough to get her home for the holidays, although Hazel despised visiting her parents. Oh, she quite enjoyed Burke Manor and all the perks attached, house-elf included. But hearing her parents drone on about how wonderful Asher was, and what a shame it was that he hadn’t gotten married yet, oh and Hazel dear have you met the youngest Yaxley yet…? But she would have killed for a Christmas like that. Asher, the stupid oaf, was still in Ministry custody – although in her last visit, he had seemed quite confident that he’d be home before New Year’s. And Ivy? Who knew. The middle Burke had kept good on her promise to keep her head down and stay out of any major headlines, so for all Hazel knew she’d stuck to her plan to flee to Castelobruxo. Which meant her typical Christmas plans hadn’t changed at all. As for Hazel…she’d spent Christmas alone at the Ivory Room, overseeing her brother’s illegal dueling rings exactly as she had promised him when she'd broken the news of Ivy's sharp turn against the family. There was something admittedly powerful about sitting above everyone else, overseeing the fighting and the betting and kicking out anyone who caused trouble. But that was Asher’s style, not hers, and Hazel hated the responsibility that came with the benefits.

The club wasn’t flourishing the way it had under Asher. But that wasn’t Hazel’s goal, either – she was only keeping things running until Asher found a way out of his sticky situation. Her brother seemed confident that he would, and that he needed her to hold everything together until he came back. It was easier now than when she had started, she didn’t feel quite so lost or directionless…but she was still terribly lonely. Hazel had never been alone before, not when it had always been the three Burkes together facing the world. Now it was just her, and she missed Ivy like a hole in her heart. And even Asher. It was only a few days until his self-proclaimed deadline of walking free, and Hazel found herself more nervous than she’d ever been as she waited to see if it would happen.

Tonight, though? It had been all business, no fun. Hazel found herself sat miserably at the bar, nursing a glass of wine as she struggled to read her stupid brother’s stupid handwriting. She didn’t know how but she had her suspicions that Asher had somehow gone to the extreme trouble of contacting his business manager with strict instructions about how she was supposed to run things in his absence – Hazel wasn’t even allowed more than one drink on the nights she was here for business. For a witch as clever as she could be, she still hadn’t found any workarounds either. So Hazel pouted as she wished she could be anywhere but here, trying to read Asher’s complicated instructions on how to run his stupid business – something he couldn’t do as he’d found himself in prison. But Hazel dropped the quill at the sound of her name (one of her favorite sounds ever) in the drawling and careless tone of a familiar voice.

“Damian Karkaroff,” she said, enunciating each syllable slowly as Hazel let her eyes wander over the Karkaroff boy’s tall frame. Hazel had always liked him more than the rest of his siblings – they all had that calculating gleam to their dark brown eyes, but Damian at least knew how to have fun. There wasn't that same controlled element to their conversations like when she was forced to speak to the rest of the Karkaroffs. They all seemed to speak in code -- subtle insinuations, never saying what they mean. It always put Hazel off, having to do any sort of business with a Karkaroff. But her parents had long since put his name on the list for potential arranged marriages…as soon as they sorted out the much more important dilemma about getting Asher settled and situated to pass on the family name. She'd enjoy the freedom while she still could. Hazel returned his smirk with her own crooked smile, crossing her legs slowly and playing with the hem of her dress. “Actually,” Hazel began playfully, “This is where we go to break free from the cage for a night. Anything can happen here, haven’t you heard?”

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

Damian sauntered into the club, secretly hoping he would run into the temporary owner. Hazel had always enthralled him, though she wasn't as easy to read as some of the other people Damian came across. But of the Burke's, she was by far the most palatable, not to mention the prettiest. Luck was on his side tonight, as Damian spotted Hazel at the bar almost immediately. She looked immaculately put together as always, sipping a glass of wine as she bent over some papers. Probably some boring stock notes or worse, ledgers. He sidled up to her, granting her an easy greeting and crooked grin.

Hazel looked him up and down and Damian allowed it. He glanced over at the bartender and ordered himself a drink, a gin martini on the rocks. Just because he was the least buttoned up Karkaroff didn't mean he didn't enjoy a proper bev. He commented that grimy places such as this one were where people like her came to die, to fall into the abyss of life not worth living. She offered him a playful retort and he chuckled, sliding over his coin to the bartender as they passed him his drink. He took a measured sip, considering what Hazel had said. "I haven't heard," he replied, a knowing smirk still pasted on his lips.

"So, this is your chance to enlighten me, Miss Burke," said Damian, leaning casually against the bar. His eyes were focused solely on her, registering her relaxed posture, her easy manner, and her genuine smile. Damian was not foolish enough to believe that she trusted him, but at least Hazel was comfortable enough around him. Which made sense, considering their upbringings. Though their branch of the Burke family had jetted off to South Africa, that didn't mean ties had been completely severed. "And here I was, thinking people just lost their money and their minds," added Damian at last, his dark eyes calculating as they roved over the soft lines of her face.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel brought the glass of wine to her lips, although her gaze stayed fixed on Damian like the rest of the club had just faded away to background noise. She gave a light scoff at his assertion that he hadn’t heard, and tapped her quill thoughtfully as ink splattered all over Asher’s meticulous notes. That would infuriate her brother when he came back, if he came back, and the thought cheered Hazel up slightly. “Something the great Damian Karkaroff hasn’t heard? We’ve finally reached the end of days, hey?” She knew that the Karkaroffs did things differently than the Burkes. Asher had always taken care of the family business, while Ivy had been the idealist who preoccupied herself with the Purifier cause. But the Karkaroffs all had roles to play, as boring as that was, and Damian was the family’s eyes and ears. There was nothing he couldn’t find out, with time, and he didn’t just write fanciful scribbles for the paper like some in the pureblood community might believe. The hardest-hitting players were often the ones you least expected, and whenever he chose to engage...Damian was a formidable opponent. Not that he could often be found among the other purebloods -- he was too flighty for that.

But she liked the games he played, and she leaned forward to rest her chin on the palm of her hand as Damian caught the attention of the bartender. “A little of this, a little of that,” Hazel confirmed, “But there’s much worse things to lose.” That was a new lesson, and the hardest one she’d ever had to confront. Life had always been so easy for her, and she’d danced through it like it was a show and she was the star. But the last few months had been hell without her sister and brother, and Hazel had learned first-hand that even the longest winning streak eventually had to end. The simple life was over for her, and the house had claimed its first victory. The question was how she could make her big comeback.

Hazel shrugged slightly and broke eye contact – couldn’t make it too easy for him, now could she? Her undivided attention was a valuable commodity, and she kept anyone from appreciating it too much. “The stakes are much higher in the backroom,” Hazel suggested lightly, teasing her way into finding out exactly how much Damian knew about Asher’s under-the-table operations. His illegal dueling rings were only scratching the surface of how deeply involved the Burkes were in the underground, but it was the easiest way to test exactly how much a pureblood knew. Whether they could be brought into the operation or not. Still, Damian was quite clever and he’d always been good at finding out other people’s secrets. A quality Hazel found terribly attractive, so long as he never used it against her. They’d both grown up in pureblood families that only played the most serious of games, and sometimes they found themselves allies and sometimes they were competitors. She and Damian had fun together, but at the end of the day – they both knew that their interests might not always be aligned. But Hazel liked to have her good time too, and Damian had always delivered on that. So she let her usual wicked smirk flicker across her face as she continued, “That is, if you’re willing to play?”

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

"Well, let's not go shouting about it," said Damian, pasting a look of mock worry on his face. "I wouldn't want people to be under the impression that I don't actually know everything. One tiny thing slips out of the net and an entire reputation in tatters. Imagine that." Damian shot Hazel a meaningful look - the not so tiny detail of her brother's involvement in the Purifiers had led to his reputation within the ministry and various other circles to be tarnished, to say the least.

Inclining his head ever so slightly, Damian silently agreed with Hazel. There were much worse things to lose than a mind or a galleon. Reputation, closely held secrets, dignity. They had a much deeper impact than a few potions or a windfall could cure. Damian was sure that the Burkes would recover from the blow that had been dealt to them, but Hazel knew more than most how great the cost was. He took a sip of his drink, mulling it over in his mind. Damian had never really considered Hazel as more than just a passing fancy, a pretty girl with the lights off upstairs. She certainly didn't have the iron will of her brother or the idealistic nature of her sister. She just... existed. But now, Damian noticed the sharpness in her eye, the calculations that went on behind her pretty words. It was almost like looking in a mirror.

"That so?" asked Damian. He had heard whispers of illegal activities in well reputed clubs, but even Damian thought that perhaps Asher ought to keep his nose clean as he rebuilt his family's reputation. "Are we talking cage fighting, illegal duelling rings or sex trafficking? I'd say the first and the last don't really sound like your family's cup of tea..." said Damian in a voice so low that only Hazel could hear. He wondered if that girl he'd met all those years ago, the Hungarian one with a knack for a curse had ever come across this place. "Hazel, I thought you knew me better than that. I'm not one to turn away from a game of chance."

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Reputation -- such a fragile little thing, flimsy as glass and ridiculously impossible to keep intact for too long. It took years to build, and something close to desperation to protect it, and even the slightest crack could lead the entire house of cards to collapse and leave you with nothing. But reputation was everything to purebloods, a currency that could open any door and wipe out any obstacle. Nothing was impossible if you were rich enough, and had the right sort of reputation to protect you. Hazel, at least, had never been exposed to the real world without the protection of her family and that careful reputation Asher had built for them. Until now. And hearing Damian’s casual way of phrasing it, and seeing the slightly too heavy look he was giving her…Hazel turned her head away. She knew exactly what he meant with his prodding words, but sharing that moment with him would be too intimate. Too intimate for someone who wasn’t on her side.

So she could only shrug as if she hadn’t understood, and turn back to look at him with the sort of empty look people had come to expect from her. “Imagine what?” she asked quizzically, every word as carefully chosen as Damian’s had been, even if she knew she would be the only one who’d ever know it. The words even fell flat as she observed, “I’ve never found a problem that couldn't be solved with the right sort of encouragement. Even a reputation, fancy that.” She might have said more – Hazel always did have a habit of running her mouth – but a commotion further down the bar caught her attention. Especially the sound of her brother’s name leaving a commoner’s lips as he laughed. “The Burkes are done. This whole place’ll be up for grabs soon enough!”

People had been whispering about it for months, but no one would have dared to say it within earshot of a Burke even a few weeks ago. The family was losing control of what happened even in their own business, and their enemies were becoming more confident and moving into the open. Dangerous, so dangerous. Hazel felt her eyes narrow as she studied the man, and she had to scoff even as she felt her blood begin to boil. Everything about the guy screamed cheap and sleazy, from his flashy shirt (carefully mussed up and temptingly flammable) to the giant rocks in his ears and on his hands. Hazel would have crucified Asher if he’d ever dared to dress in public like that. “A real man would back that up with his wand,” Hazel said loudly, drawing attention to herself as she pushed back Asher’s notes and stood up from her seat. Her posture was loose, and she stood up languidly to have a better vantage point to look down at her opponent like he was a nasty little stain she’d noticed on her skirt. Her eyes were locked on him and all thoughts of Damian Karkaroff went away in that moment as she redirected her smirk. “Unless you’ve never used it with a woman before? You look a little nervous, hey?”

She didn’t bother to pull out her wand as the man growled and pushed his way through the crowd. Hazel knew exactly how Asher would have handled a challenge like this, brutal and quick to set the terms from the start and make it clear who the winner would be. In other words, the exact sort of unsubtle alpha male swagger that might make you picture a gorilla pounding on his chest. Hazel wasn’t her brother, though, and her expression didn’t change as Mr. Slick and Slimy brandished his wand in her face. She felt the exact moment the curse blossomed from the tip of his wand and shot in her direction, and Hazel snatched control of it like she took anything that was rightfully hers. Merlin, there was something so impossibly exciting about redirecting spells. Taking control of someone’s magic and turning it against them. And he was getting it easy -- he wouldn't get anything worse than what he would have done to her.

A look of disgust crossed Hazel’s face as she watched him hit the floor with a grunt and grab at his face with a pained groan. She didn’t leave any time for someone to wonder what she’d done as she made a 'tsk' noise with her tongue and motioned for security to move in and grab him roughly. “You come into my club,” she began in a low warning tone, “And insult my family?” She laughed freely and shook her head. “Sounds like it’s time to cut you off, babe. Forever.” As she watched security drag him away, she turned to see a whole crowd of silent observers that had gathered to watch. In the midst of the stunned silence, Hazel raised her voice and continued, “Anyone else have any observations that they’re just dying to make?” As the words hung heavily in the air (because who would dare to respond to that?), Hazel took a deep breath and then smiled, eyes glancing sideways towards the nearest bartender. Now was the time to make it clear to everyone – she wasn’t her brother. And she had her own style. “Fucking fantastic. Benny, how about a round of firewhiskey on the house? Courtesy of the Burke family and our endless generosity for our friends!”

As excited whoops filled the room and the crowd pulsed with excitement and energy, Hazel took advantage of the distraction to sidle back up to Damian and trail her fingers down his arm. “You should be careful with games of chance,” Hazel warned as her hand found his and she pulled him to his feet, “It doesn’t matter how good you are. You could just find yourself…swept away.” The mood was infectious and Hazel let herself surrender to the pulse of the dance music and the charged air of the club as she took a deep breath and laughed. She pulled Damian behind her, shooting him a look over her shoulder as she pushed through a door and into the backroom – the beginning of everything hidden in the back, at least. Her eyes trailed over the sight of illegal dueling rings, already in full motion as she turned to face her…friend? Foe? Dance partner for the night? “Welcome to the real game, Damian.”

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

Damian had opened his mouth no doubt to blurt out a snappy reply but Hazel's attention was drawn elsewhere. Damian watched with amusement as he read each emotion that crossed Hazel's lovely face. She was both stubborn and strong, like a wrathful goddess having come down from the heavens to seek holy retribution. The man who had insulted the Burkes (a foolish error, in their own club of course) was a pudgy man with ruddy cheeks, the drink obviously having gone to his head more than expected. Damian didn't bother to hide the faint smile that crossed his lips as he watched Hazel smite the man. In fact, he found that it was rather arousing.

Dark eyes lit with delight, Damian's smirk grew ever more pronounced as Hazel ordered firewhisky for everyone. "You know, I think we should get ruffians like that one in more often. Great marketing ploy - at least it makes me want to stay here and drink my coin away in the shadow of a wrathful vixen such as yourself," said Damian with a playful arch of his brow. He saluted to Hazel before knocking back the firewhisky, letting the alcohol seep through his veins and into his very bones. He appraised Hazel silently as she addressed him once more, thinking first before acting. Cas would be so proud - his little prodigy had learned well at his knee. "I find that Lady Luck tends to be on my side... so long as I continue to shower her with my devotion, I find myself winning in more ways than one." Damian responded cryptically.

All at once, Hazel took Damian's hand and swept him onto the dance floor. He was more of a predator usually, but tonight he felt utterly at Hazel's demand. He was certain it was because of the display from earlier. He followed her like a dutiful student, keeping unusually silent. Hazel led him into the back room, and turned to face him, greeting him and testing him like a cat playing with a mouse. Damian's eyes roved over the various duelling rings that he knew were rumoured to be here, but seeing them in reality...

Damian was thrust back into the past, five years ago. A filthy old duelling ring in the heart of Berlin, where a tiny wisp of a thing had risen to the greatest challenge and over come it. He had been so curious then, wanting to know more about that waif, but she had been just as guarded with her secrets as he had been. They'd parted ways, and Damian had never seen her again. He wondered if the girl fought in this ring. "Hazel Burke, do you mean to say that the Head of the Department of Mysteries housed an illegal ring in his very own club? What a scandal..." said Damian, his arm sliding around her waist as he took a step closer to her. "Another secret to add to my collection. And how will you earn my silence? Maybe our kinship is enough..." said Damian in a low voice, leaning forward to speak into her ear.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Damian did always have an easy way with words, and Hazel preened at the compliments he gave away so freely as he knocked back the firewhiskey. She didn’t hesitate to grab her own shot and shiver in delight at the rush of fire that shot through her veins. It had become harder and harder to ignore the harsh reality of the world they lived in – one that didn’t want purebloods anymore. It meant these sorts of spaces were becoming rarer and rarer to find, and it usually took much more than a shot to let Hazel forget where she was. But surrounded by ear-ringing music, still dizzy with the adrenaline of taking over someone else’s magic, Hazel felt powerful. More than she’d ever felt in her brother’s shadow. She laughed at Damian’s vague answer, pausing to look up at him from under her lashes as she pushed aside her empty glass. “You always get what you want, don’t you? Nobody’s ever told Damian Karkaroff no a day in your life.”

The back room was always an impressive sight for someone laying eyes on it for the first time. It had a different energy than the dance floor, charged with more tension and an ever-present edge of danger. People bled in the rings, and they’d hired more than enough dodgy Healers and clean-up crews over the years to handle the mess of this side business. One didn’t walk into the ring without knowing that there was a chance he wouldn’t walk back out – or at least, in a way that might change him forever. Hazel didn’t spend so much time back here, not in the way Asher always had, but it still awed her a little to watch the roughened fighters slaughter each other in the name of gold and reputation. It was the only part of the club that hadn’t suffered from Asher’s arrest – nobody here cared about the criminal record of the owner.

“Just the tip of the iceberg,” Hazel answered playfully as Damian drew her in closer. She didn’t protest the arm he’d slipped around her waist, instead taking the opportunity for what it was to tease her fingers up his chest and over his jaw. Merlin, he was a temptation wrapped in sin and the glint in his eyes sent a thrill of excitement straight through her. She laughed softly as he murmured dangerous words in her ear, one hand loosely tightening around his shirt while the other trailed over his stubbled jaw. “That’s an easy question, darling,” Hazel whispered lowly as she tilted her head so she could look at him fully. She leaned in until all she could see was the dark brown of his eyes, almost black, and their breaths mingled together. It would only take a small movement to close the distance and kiss him – and Merlin’s sake, she was tempted. But instead she gave a wicked smirk and ran her hand up until it threaded through his hair and she could pull back hard. “Your silence now means more secrets later,” she said in that same low tone, “And I know you can’t resist that.” With that she broke the distance between them and began to walk deeper into the room. Her hips swayed but she didn’t look back – she knew he’d follow.

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

A slow smile crept across Damian's face. "I always get what I want," he echoed in agreement, his dark eyes sweeping over Hazel's face. There was a swooping sensation in his belly as Hazel appraised him from under her lashes, his mouth going dry at the demure front she was putting up. More and more, what he wanted was right in front of him. Swallowing thickly, Damian followed Hazel silently into the back room. He looked around with his brows raised, silently shocked that Asher Burke had managed to hide this room for years. He said nothing for a long while, before commenting that this was yet another secret to add to his ever growing connection. Damian found secrets held close to the chest were far more valuable than spouting them out to the first bidder, but he took a level of joy in teasing Hazel.

Hazel's fingers danced up his chest, ghosting across his jaw and it took all the self restraint he had not to give into her. Damian was certain that Hazel knew exactly what she was doing, just as he knew the right strings to pluck. Their breaths mingled and Damian's caught in his chest. He hardly even noticed when her fingers moved to his hair and suddenly there was a yawning gap between them. He grunted his disapproval, eyes narrowing as they took in Hazel's smug countenance. "You know me too well, Burke," he purred, twisting out of her grip as she swept away, hips swaying sinfully.

Damian knew she was playing a game of cat and mouse with him - and for the first time, he didn't mind being the mouse. In a few long strides, he was beside her again, careful to keep a modicum of distance between the pair of them. "Are there regulars or do you find fresh blood each time?" asked Damian, tearing his eyes away from the temptress before him to look around the back rooms. He knew Ana wouldn't approve of the rooms - but even so, he couldn't help but imagine her back here. She would absolutely wipe the floor with any of these people currently duelling. The spellwork was shoddy at best. "Doesn't look like the creme de la creme is here at the moment anyways," he commented evenly.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel didn’t give a damn about most of the pureblood world. Really, she didn’t give a damn about most anything that existed outside of her own interests and the little world she lived in. But it was especially true about the old formalities that pureblood families were still expected to pay. The pointless rules and expectations and the one true path that every pureblood was supposed to follow. It bored her, and she hated being bored. Despised it. She’d fought against the restraining influence Asher tried to be, and for a while she’d gotten that freedom while Asher and Ivy dived so deep into the Purifier cause that it became impossible to separate it from their family affairs.

Damian excited her. He always seemed to catch her by surprise, despite the fact that every encounter of theirs seemed to go the same way. Slowly glide towards that inevitable conclusion. But she couldn’t say she’d ever been bored around him, and the exciting reveal of the dueling rings to her partner for the night sent a giddy feeling through Hazel as she glanced at him over her shoulder through hooded eyes. “I do know you,” she said lowly, a teasing lilt to her tone even as her eyes darkened at the low purr in his voice, “So don’t forget it, Karkaroff.” There was always that underlying current of danger that came when two pureblood families tangled together, the charged assurance that you could destroy the other as easily as they could destroy you. But the stakes were what made it exciting, what kept her so close to his orbit even when years of circling around each other should have bored her to indifference.

He turned the conversation towards lighter conversation as easily as she’d let a little physical distance creep between them, so Hazel allowed the change of topic and swept her hair over her shoulder. “A little bit of both. We have our favorites, but anyone’s allowed to try. Keeps it real, hey?” Hazel let her gaze travel across the room carelessly as she spoke. This wasn’t really her crowd – it was too discreet, too rough and bloodied and not nearly flashy enough for her taste. The dueling rings wasn’t a place for gold, or anything precious. This was a place for broken things, people who gambled everything they had and accepted either outcome like they would flip a coin – gold or death. “Ah, and how long have you been an expert?” Hazel laughed at Damian’s proclamation. “Maybe you want to step in yourself?” she asked coyly, hands folded innocently behind her back like they weren’t somewhere that dealt with very real consequences to their actions. She hadn’t emerged unscathed from these last six months either. Whatever reckless voice in his head had brought Asher to the castle that night – Hazel heard it too. She wanted to do something dangerous. Something uncertain. She thought Damian might understand that, more than anyone else.

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF

[DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF]

"How could I?" murmured Damian as he dutifully followed Hazel into the back room. There was a tension between them, something so delicious that could only be forged between two people who regarded themselves highly. As they pressed into the back room and the duellers splayed out before him on like a portrait on a canvas, Damian changed tack. He needed a clear head whilst speaking with the Burkes, even if Hazel was the least toxic of them. Damian had been the one to pen the article about Hazel's brother, but he wondered if she'd read that. It had been his job, but then again, Damian had never taken much to Asher. And then there was Ivy - she was simply a mystery that Damian was keen to unwind.

Damian nodded slowly, his eyes sweeping the room. "Can imagine many of them limping away with their tails between their legs," said Damian, grinning in a way that was more menacing than friendly. It slipped from his face as his gaze landed on Hazel. "I've got to be an expert - Ana is my sister," said Damian with a smirk. Hazel suggested he step into the ring and Damian raised a brow skeptically. "I wouldn't want to dirty my hands with amateurs such as this," he replied haughtily, glancing at the rings.

It wasn't that he was afraid - Damian didn't indulge in such human things as fear. "It all seems a bit contrived. Duelling for sport. When there are real issues in the world that we're ignoring," said Damian, a faraway look in his eye. "Like the department for education requiring employees of a certain age to return to school to undergo training. Where is the choice in that? We're in a private room at the back of a club watching people fight without the aim to kill, and people are making decisions without getting the public's opinion," said Damian with a sigh. He wished he had a drink. "Suppose it doesn't matter though. Money is power, and all that," said Damian after a moment.

Hazel Rosalie Burke

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel rolled her eyes rather pointedly at the mention of Damian’s sister. Oh, she knew Ana like she knew the rest of the Karkaroffs – no fun, the lot of them. The eldest was so wrapped up in being the proper head of the family, just like Asher, and Hazel couldn’t remember a conversation longer than ten seconds with him as a result. The brother after that was just a punching bag for the rest of the family, the one that took all the responsibility so the rest could run about their business with more freedom than the average pureblood. And Ana? She never let herself enjoy anything, never seemed to appreciate what she had in front of her because she was too busy picking out its flaws and vulnerabilities. The Karkaroffs were predictable because they were just like everyone else in their world – and that made them boring.

She raised an eyebrow at the abstracted look in Damian’s eyes, at the unflattering picture he painted of dueling for sport as he mused about the greater problems of the world. “Oh babe, you say that like there’s anything natural about our world. It’s all contrived,” Hazel replied indifferently, braiding her hair absentmindedly as she watched a match unfold in the ring nearest them. “It’s all contrived,” she repeated, her voice bitter and edged with steel (her gold that had turned to steel from the moment of Asher’s arrest and his last warning that she needed to protect herself from now on). “We follow the path that’s laid out for us, from every pureblood to every last filthy Muggle on the street. And it doesn’t matter if that path was laid out by society, or by family, or by the twisted views we grow up with about good and evil or thinking that there even is right or wrong. We follow the path, and it’s artificial as shit. The only time we show our true selves is in the darkness where no one can see us, in a back room like this. And even then you have to wonder what’s real.” Hazel brushed her hair away as the battered duelist dropped to the floor, chest heaving and the air still electric from his last curse.

Her expression was serious as Hazel reflected on the bitter lessons she’d had to swallow for the last six months, but she felt the weight in her chest lighten as she turned to her playmate. “Still, you made a mistake, babe.” She drifted closer, ran her hand down his chest as her gaze sharpened. Merlin, the storm that this man could awaken in her. He had the effect of calming all the noise in her head, if only because he sent it downwards into a shot of adrenaline straight through her blood. “Maybe I’ll tell you later,” she breathed, both acutely aware of where they were standing and not giving one iota about any of it. The club was hers for as long as Asher was in prison and Ivy stayed away, and it was soul-crushing to know that it all depended on her. Hazel would be as happy to see the whole room burn even as she struggled to keep it alive. Her hand tightened on his chest, clawed into his shirt in that unconscious impulse to let loose some of the chaos in her chest. She knew already where her path would go, and how this night would go -- from the moment he'd sat next to her at the bar. It was his move.

DAMIAN ANDREAS KARKAROFF