keys to the kingdom | hazel

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher’s fingers fiddled with his cufflink until the Burke family crest lined up nicely with the buttons on his sleeve. After he’d been released and shown up at Hazel’s doorstep, she confirmed it was, in fact, her older brother and not some imposter, and after a moment of shock, she reverted back to commenting on his ill-fitting clothes and need of a shave. It had not taken long for word to spread that Asher Burke was a free man, walking amongst them and not rotting away in some Azkaban cell. And an even shorter time was needed for rumors to spread on what had happened. But naturally, many eyes rolled simply assuming his connections and pureblood status had something to do with that.

And that was the story he would stick to and the story he would help persist. The pardon and trading of information would never see the light of day thanks to that pardon, and the purifier soldiers locked up as a result of said information would never see the light of day either. A small price to pay when considering everything. He had a legacy to protect, after all. But first things first, Asher finally relented and let his sister deal with his wardrobe, and even if his face showed a constant discontented expression, Asher had to admit that perhaps there was something about these new suits and shirts that pleased him.

A couple days to rest and refocus his mind, his Occlumency was rusty and his Legilimency even more so, but with time he’d be back to where he was before. For now, he examined his office as if it was a brand new place—and in so many ways, it was. Rolls of parchment lined his desk, and his eyes scanned them, noting the numbers and corrections. The trends up and down and then stabilizing. Not bad. Not that Asher ever expected anything less of his sister, who stood on the other side of the desk. She had held down the fort as expected. An employee walked into the room, quietly placing a glass with bourbon on his desk before leaving.

Asher had walked tall through the doors of his club, heads turning to glance before turning once more to confirm what they saw. He had returned somehow from the precipitous edge of the cliff where a light breeze meant a lifetime in a cell. Hazel walked equally as tall by his side, their identical piercing blue stares merely daring anyone to challenge them. ”You did well.” Asher spoke simply, reaching for his glass to sip at the expensive alcohol. ”Were there any…issues while I was away?” Mainly, Asher wished to know who had caused a problem for Hazel so Asher could speak to them and reassure their family’s position.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

30 December 2026

Okay, so Asher had pulled off a literal miracle…but Hazel wasn’t really surprised. And no, it wasn’t because of his resourcefulness, crafty mind, or deep (bottomless, really) pockets. No, Hazel wasn’t surprised because her brother was actually the most annoying wizard on earth and she would also have let him go at the prospect of spending 20 to life with him. He was a total killjoy even at his club, with a ridiculously expensive drink in hand and a dozen people groveling at his feet to get a teensy little piece of the Burke fame and fortune. So if that couldn’t make him happy (or remove the stick he had you-know-where), then what could he possibly be like imprisoned and cut off from everything that mattered in life – family, influence, and designer labels.

But Hazel was relieved because managing a club wasn’t nearly as glamorous or fun as it looked. For one, you never got to sample the products because you were too busy working – which sucked because the whiskey was top-shelf and the bartenders were total bombshells. And for another, if something went wrong…well, you couldn’t just flounce off to another club after accidentally starting a brawl on the dance floor. Like, you were actually liable for damages. Hazel might have enjoyed it a little at first, since being the last Burke left meant she’d basically been given the keys to the kingdom and she could do anything she liked with them. The way a kid might feel if he’d been locked in a candy store for a weekend. But after a while, the glamor wore off and you just got tired of the candy. And the unsupervised fun. And the soul-crushing knowledge that your family’s entire empire relied on you and the ability not to massively screw everything up…alright, maybe she was losing the thread of the metaphor a bit.

At any rate, it didn’t matter anymore. Asher was back, and Hazel had made good use of his time away. The Ivory Room was getting by just fine, and Hazel had gotten to use Asher’s flat for anything her little heart wanted. Most importantly, shoving half his wardrobe into the garbage and donating the other half to the less-fortunate (half-bloods and druids, duh). Oh, Asher moaned and groaned about the new designer suits, but he was wearing them. Which meant Hazel was right and Asher was wrong. What a strange new world they lived in, truly. Hazel studied her nails as Asher walked around his office like a cat refamiliarizing himself with his territory before he took his rightful place behind the desk. She barely glanced up as an employee quietly entered and exited, instead choosing to admire the way her glittery nails caught the dim light of the room.

In all honesty, she hadn’t spent much time in here. She’d tried to sit behind the desk a few times, but ugh. No. It just reminded Hazel of what she might be like in another fifty years when she was old and wrinkled and just as boring as Asher. She’d rather die than make it to that stage of life. So she found other places to do her work. Hazel raised an eyebrow at Asher’s simple compliment – Merlin, three little words really could betray all the ways her brother was going soft – but only shrugged at his question. “Banned a few people,” she said casually, eyes returning to her nails. “I mean, their vibe was so wrong for us. Oh, and we do theme nights now, in case you were wondering about the costume rack in your closet. Needed the extra income.”

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

It would take some time for his world to adjust to the fact that Asher Burke had somehow escaped an almost certain and doomed fate. Most of the rumors reached his ears due to those loyal to him. Everything from polyjuice potion to the imperious curse. Why was he really back? Was it really him? But this life that he had built and the family businesses were what mattered most aside from his family—he would do whatever it took to keep them from falling. And it seemed that Hazel had the same idea, she had surprised him, but he’d also known that she was capable due to the blood that ran in her veins.

His other sister—or that person he’d grown up with was long gone. While her face and memory still lingered in his mind, Asher didn’t mention her. It was done with, and Ivy had made her choice. Asher’s focus was rebuilding his reputation and cutting down anyone who even had the slightest doubt. Unfortunately, his flat was almost unrecognizable when he returned. Thankfully, Hazel had not bothered with the offices. He needed something that felt normal. Blue eyes glanced up from the rolls of parchment at the mention of costumes. ”The staff are welcome to participate. I will not.” And that was that costumes and theme nights were not up for discussion.

And as much as he admonished the idea—Hazel was right. They needed the extra income. The illegalities of his business had slowed slightly since Bianca, and her department had their eye on him, but the Head of Law Enforcement would be forced to look elsewhere in due time. His time at the Ministry had taught him that the Minister and senior leadership didn’t much care for a Department Head who carried a grudge for too long. ”We still have a lot of work to do, Hazel.” Asher stressed the ‘we’ as he sat back ever so slightly in his chair. Enough to not be hunched over his paperwork but still, keep his back rigid. All that time in that cell made even standing up straight feel unnatural—something else to work on. ”A Pureblood almost in Azkaban is not a new story, but if there were any that doubted you or the family, I need to know so I can take care of it.” If a message needed to be sent that the Burke family was not done, he would send it himself.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel rolled her eyes in disgust at the casual way Asher shut down his participation in theme nights. She flexed her fingers, admired the nails she’d had painstakingly done and the brilliant rings she’d made and charmed herself, then glanced up at her brother. Sitting down at his desk, he looked like he belonged there – like it had only been a second since the last time he’d sat down to rule his corner of the criminal underground from his office. But things had changed and there was no use denying it. The Burkes weren’t quite as untouchable as they’d been a year ago, and people were watching them closely. “Um yeah, you totes will,” Hazel countered, always managing that easy and breezy look of hers but not quite able to hide the tension in the lines of her body or the way her brow furrowed. But she wasn’t worried. No, Hazel Burke was not the kind to worry about a single thing.

“Morale’s been low around here, Ash. You know, their boss got arrested for being, like, a criminal or whatever and then there were Aurors poking around and being like ridiculously rude and wearing the cringiest straight-cut robes. So if you’ve got to dress like a leprechaun to show that everything’s a-okay so that I don’t have to mix drinks behind the bar, you like definitely have got to do it.” Her logic seemed sound, as far as she was concerned, and it wasn’t like Asher had been around to be able to contradict her. He wanted to act like everything was exactly the way it’d been a year ago, but it definitely wasn’t. For one, Hazel had had to wear boring suits and tie her hair back in a bun while she filled in for Asher. Yikes. And then the club had actually started to suffer, the more that the Burke name flashed across the headlines and some of his black market contacts had balked at using the Ivory Room for their business.

And worst of all, it felt so so obvious to Hazel that there was a presence in the room missing. Asher was behind his desk and being bossy – that was normal. And Hazel was complaining about something while looking as fabulous as ever, which felt pretty normal too. But there was no Ivy to play the mediator, to side with her sister but then propose a compromise that would make Asher happy too. The dream team was broken, probably for forever, and Hazel hadn’t even heard from Ivy in months. Not since that charged conversation in Hogsmeade where she hadn’t even said goodbye – a fact Hazel had been regretting for months. Not that she had any way to reach out, or even a clue at what she would say if she had the opportunity. Hazel pouted at Asher’s use of the word ‘we’ as he leaned back in his chair but didn’t contradict him. Things had changed, and she couldn’t avoid taking on some of the responsibility anymore. Ugh, that sounded disgusting even in her head.

“You’ll see for yourself when you take a peek at the dueling rings tonight,” Hazel grumbled, adjusting the sleeves of her robes so they flared out stylishly at the elbow. She gave a little sigh, made a whining noise in the back of her throat at having to admit her failure to Asher, then continued. “There have been so many emergencies. We lost our liquor license for a few weeks, sponsors were pulling out, it was just a mad rush. And some people don’t want to use the club for their other business anymore. How do you even know who to invite when it isn’t officially happening?” Her tone had turned pouty about two seconds ago, but she crossed her arms and looked away from her brother. She’d kept the club open, but it was Asher’s job to bring it back to life. She hated to admit it, but he had the business savvy that she just didn’t have. Or care about, really.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher’s eyes quickly moved up and locked onto his sister. Hazel was an intelligent girl. She always had been despite the outward appearance she gave. But she had to be absolutely daft to think that Asher would participate in such a ridiculous thing. But before he could retort, Hazel explained further. The idea that Aurors were poking around the club made him clench his jaw, though they clearly had not done a thorough enough job. Much like the charms and various magical technologies used by the Purifiers, he’d secured such places as his offices and where his ledgers were kept. Elaine had always kept an eye out for useful people with a talent for such things.

While Asher wasn’t quite in the same dark hole of several weeks ago, it didn’t mean he was out of it yet. Or his family. Ivy had brought them down here, and his compromises still weighed on him. Leaning back slightly, Asher’s elbows leaned on his armrests, and his fingertips touched while he thought it through. Clearly, Hazel didn’t care for such matters as business, numbers, profit, and secrecy. Now that he was back, it was up to him to set things right. Perhaps not as they were, but even better. The loss of his Ministry contacts was going to be tricky to navigate. He’d have to reach out to Ondina or others at some point—but not when everyone’s eyes were on him.

”The Burke name still commands respect.” Asher insisted. And in their world, what better way to gain respect than by forcing the Ministry to let you walk free, despite all the circumstances. ”We have to ensure its business as usual, and the Ministry can’t touch this place. They can’t touch me.” And that was the absolute truth. His eyes shone brightly at the thought of Bianca Rivera, knowing she would never have the satisfaction of putting him in chains again. Asher stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did so, and he made his way to the area he’d charmed himself to view the dueling rings without being noticed. The crowd was smaller than what he was used to, and the two duelists were hardly formidable.

Hazel was pushing him to do something ostentatious and out of character, but he would not don a green suit in any case. ”We’ll do the New Year’s tournament as planned.” He announced, eyes still focused forward and hands resting on the small of his back. "But double the Galleons to the winner.” It would be a hit to their profit, but after reviewing the ledgers, they could manage it. Asher’s frugal nature typically went against such ideas, but Hazel was right. They needed to do something. Asher thought about the whispers he’d heard and what he assumed people were whispering about. The duel had been in the paper, and this was where he needed to re-establish himself first.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Magic was a beautiful thing in that it was so, so easy to change what you didn’t like. If Hazel woke up one morning and decided she was tired of being brunette (which happened fairly often, because if she peeked out of the corner of her eye she could almost see the resemblance to Asher) – some fancy wandwork and a dash of pizazz could change that! Or if she was walking on the street and suddenly spotted a witch with robes much lovelier than hers – well, her jealousy needed to last only a moment because there were a million spells out there to copy what you saw. Magic meant that it didn’t quite matter what was real because you could just wave your wand and see something else.

Apparently delusion worked in much the same way, and Asher was deep in it. He sat back in his chair, fingers contemplatively steepled together while he thought. Hazel wondered what he was seeing – the king rightfully returned to his throne, perhaps, able to admire his kingdom and see nothing wrong that couldn’t be fixed. At any rate, it wasn’t what she saw and the thought unnerved her that she had somehow become the realist in the room. Because no, Hazel didn’t see a pureblood family who ruled their own dazzling world and was untouchable by the filth of the bottom. Not anymore. Hazel only saw a disgraced criminal that had just managed to avoid lifetime imprisonment, and his little sister that had proved to be a pale imitation of the better siblings in her family.

So she scoffed at his insistence that the Burke name still meant something. Hazel had been lovingly admiring her nail art, trying to return to blissful ignorance and focus on something beautiful (and what was more beautiful than herself?). But Asher’s decision to return to ‘business as usual’ was so out there that it tore her attention away and Hazel glanced up in disbelief before rolling her eyes in a sort of fascinated disgust. She followed quickly on his heels as he wandered to the dueling rings and asked, “And if nobody actually shows up?” Hazel paused for a moment, but couldn’t help herself and added in a whiny tone, “I cannot have anybody spreading any vile little gossips that I don’t know how to throw a party. Or, oh my god, that I’m a bad hostess.” The horror of gaining that sort of reputation stopped Hazel in her tracks a short distance away from Asher and where he stood appraising the two shoddy duelists.

Hazel stared at him strangely. She’d been excited, secretly quite so, to see Asher again. His outrageous statement from her brief visit that he’d be free by the end of the year had seemed impossible, but she was glad to be proven wrong for once. But it didn’t quite feel like she was talking to Asher – rather, this was somebody who wanted to be the Asher that had existed before the fall of Hogwarts. It wasn’t quite her brother standing in front of her anymore. “What happened to you?” she wondered out-loud, trying to finally see him for the first time in their conversation. It was a stupid question, but still the right one to ask in light of his out-of-place behavior. This policy of ‘back to usual’ didn’t fit in their new reality, and no one knew that better than Hazel who’d actually been here. No, Asher certainly couldn’t be right in the head.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher’s mind raced as his eyes focused on the ensuing duel. Amateurs at best, but from his perch, he could see they were relentless. Unforgiving. One went down, and the other kept going until some of his staff intervened. But Hazel caught his attention again, and he was forced to pause. Physically he felt his body tighten for a moment. What had happened to him, she asked. How does one accurately describe months of isolation, subpar food, limited sunlight, and constant sensory deprivation? How did he explain that sensation of walking, stepping outside during the day for the first time, and almost being brought to his knees? How did he explain the slight tremor in his wand hand?

He didn’t. It was normal for Hazel to question him. He would have been suspicious otherwise. But somewhere in his mind, he was convinced that pushing himself into that old position of strength would rid him of these temporary weaknesses. It had to. ”I survived.” He spoke, waiting a moment before turning around to face his sister. ”Zabini may have his Order of Merlin, but he should have killed me when he had the chance.” An icy fury burned in his eyes. Blood traitor. ”The Ministry can’t touch me.” Not that Asher would explain why or how, but a magically binding contract stated so. And one would think that was the hard part, but they were just getting started.

Taking a few steps to retrieve his drink, he paused to think. ”You’ll throw your party. Do what you want with it. I’ll handle things back here.” Asher wanted to enter the ring himself, but he was nowhere near ready for that. Not yet. ”You underestimate people’s curiosity. They will follow gossip to the vilest places, and what better curiosity than the man the Ministry couldn’t take down.” Asher would be lying if he said he didn’t get pure satisfaction at the thought. Caught as red-handed as anyone could be and taken down by one of the Ministry’s former elite, yet…he walked free. It had cost him. But in the long run, it was immeasurable compared to the outcome. He had given up the sinking ship for a lifeboat. And while his family floated safely on the surface, the Ministry chased that ship down to the depths.

Asher had to stand tall. He had to keep pushing forward because nobody else would for him. The society they were raised in thrived on the fear and weakness of others, and if Asher wavered, they would eat him alive. The look Hazel gave him reminded him of when she’d seen him in chains, her confidence sorely lacking behind her glittery words and comments. Much like it did now. ”It’ll take time to rebuild. There isn’t any time to waste.”

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

It took a lot of faith to be a Burke. Hazel was the youngest, a baby by the standards of her parents and her older siblings. And she was a girl, born with the single purpose of marrying and continuing some other pureblood’s line someday. She’d never carried the weighty expectations of her parents to do something with the Burke name like Asher had, and her whole purpose in life was basically to be an incubator. She was okay with that, for the most part, because there just didn’t seem to be any other option and it seemed pointless to fight the inevitable. No, her little rebellions were a gift to herself and a way to buy a little time and enjoy what she had left.

But it meant she needed to have faith in the others, because nobody ever told her anything – much less asked for her opinion. It meant she needed to trust that they had a plan, and would succeed in it, so she could keep living the same life she always had and counting down the days until it was over (like an execution, because marriage was most certainly like death). She’d been okay with that, for the most part. Hazel had never lost faith before, had never questioned if her siblings really knew what they were doing. But she’d felt a twinge of it the day Ivy had come to say goodbye to her, because that had been an escape – not a plan. And now Hazel felt the doubt gnawing at her at the hard, almost fanatical look in Asher’s eyes and the way he triumphantly announced that the Ministry couldn’t touch him anymore.

It scared her almost, the doubt that tied knots in her stomach and caused her to take a small step back. His instructions were clear, the way forward seemed to be as clear as blazing light in his head. Throw the party, entertain the crowd and dazzle them with the Burkes’ big comeback. Win back everything they’d lost and then some, show them all that a Burke couldn’t be defeated. Asher seemed to believe in that wholeheartedly, and Hazel wanted so badly to believe in his plan. The desperation made her sag in a way she’d never done before, made her feel older and not so golden as in the past. “Okay,” she said finally, uncertainly, as she took in the strange energy that had seemed to infuse Asher. She continued on a moment later, doggedly choosing to bring up the subject that Asher had been careful to avoid. “But what about Ivy? She’s still missing, gone abroad and she’ll need to know somehow to come back…”

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

The Burkes might seem stoic and frigid to their peers and the rest of the Magical World, but Asher could read his sister’s face. There was that doubt again. The same expression in her eyes that he’d seen when she sat across from him at the Ministry. When he’d been in chains feeling barely human as he was cut off from magic. Asher had pushed her then, and he would continue to do so. It was only the two of them now. She needed to step up. Hazel was a Burke, and it was time she stood tall as one and not the flailing younger sister of a prominent man. The world needed to know that the family still stood tall.

If there was any doubt in Asher, he didn’t show it. But there certainly was. The entire ordeal of being chained up like some common criminal, treated like some wild animal who belonged in a cage, had rattled him. The deal he’d made had been a narrow escape from the corner he’d been backed into where that mudblood had almost taken everything from him. Almost. Asher still had to find a way to enact some revenge and remind her who she was dealing with. But before that, his attention moved. The duel forgotten behind him, and the glass was no longer important in his hand.

Hazel replied uncertainly, and Asher prepared to remind her of the usual—her name, blood, and status but then a question. The question, one could say. ”What about her?” Asher responded sharply. The volume of his voice had risen a little bit. Her name was enough to set him on edge. Fortunately, he had just placed his glass down, or it might have broken in his hand. ”She can stay missing.” Asher added, eyes narrowed. The frosty blue of his eyes, alight with fury. ”You and I—we only have each other to rely on now.” Asher put his hands behind his back as he let out a breath to calm himself, closing his eyes for a moment. Really he needed to stop his hand from trembling. If Ivy had walked through that door, Asher might have shown her how he felt with his bare hands. But for now, he needed to regain the formidable composure he had been so known for.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

It looked for one second like Asher might throw his glass at her, and Hazel raised an eyebrow as if to dare him to try. Because the tantrums were her thing, and she was quite good at being strategic with them when it came to getting what she wanted. Hazel knew how to pull off a pout so as to look like the picture-perfect damsel in distress – but on Asher? Well, that would just look ridiculous. For Merlin’s sake, who on earth would ever want to rescue him? Still, she was saved from asking exactly how old he thought he was when Asher placed the glass down and instead fixed her with the glare of a thousand suns. His tone was sharp, but his face had the same grumpy expression as whenever Hazel would remorselessly return to the family manor in the morning looking clearly hungover.

And like all those uncountable mornings, she wasn’t prepared to apologize now either. “Uh duh, she’s our sister,” Hazel pointed out. She wanted to use the same sharp tone Asher had flung at her, but as his little sister she knew exactly what would bother him most and make his skin crawl. So she used the same ‘isn’t that so obvious’ voice that he hated whenever she brought up his outfits and how they were more of a crime against humanity than anything he could have done with the Purifiers. Asher seemed intent to forget that Ivy existed, and in a vague sort of sense Hazel understood why. Ivy had gone to the Ministry and spilled the beans on the Purifiers, which had led to Asher’s arrest and this low point the Burkes found themselves in. But she was also family, and that just couldn’t be helped. Besides, Hazel had interests here, the same as anyone, and remembering Ivy’s betrayal didn’t suit those interests. So voila, Hazel forgot about it.

Asher looked furious, but even with all these new doubts Hazel could feel coiling in her stomach – she didn’t think he’d hurt her. No, Asher would never do that. It gave her the confidence to adopt that typical easy-breezy tone of hers and pretend she was still herself, even if that didn’t feel quite true anymore. Hazel avoided eye contact by fidgeting with the sleeves of her robes, and she took a step back from the rings before any blood could splash and ruin the satin. “Obv you’re off your rocker, and that’s totally justified. Anger accepted, acknowledged, whatever. But like, we’ve always needed Ivy. The Ivory Room’s gone down the pipes. And people are asking questions, hey? Don’t we need answers?” The last part came as a sort of stroke of inspiration at the end, with Hazel almost feeling a teensy bit smug that she could be so good at this when she tried. Because she didn’t believe that they could do this alone – Asher with his newly-minted reputation and her own pesky habit of just not caring. Ivy knew how to bridge the gap, how to use both their language. And Hazel missed her sister like a hole in her heart.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

we take the hand or fist

just to sell ourselves for this
the path we least resist

December 30, 2026
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher knew better than to physically attempt anything against Hazel. While she pushed her doubt as a buffer between them, he had seen her duel when necessary or handle a man that crossed the line. And it was expected, she was a Burke after all, and regardless of what she complained about when it came time to step up—she did. But this topic was new territory and one that wasn’t simple to navigate. The battlefield was not divided down the middle where one knew where they stood, and Asher hadn’t admitted his conflicted feelings over Ivy. The paradoxical emotions of a brother versus his anger at her betrayal.

But he scoffed. ”She isn’t a Burke. She never was.” Although as pureblood as them, she was not a direct relation. But such a fact that not matter in the slightest, and Asher would personally curse anyone that spoke against it. In fact, he’d done that as a younger man. There was nothing like a Cruciatus Curse to discourage anyone from questioning Ivy’s place in their family. But the large cracks that had formed in his composure over the past year only revealed his wrath. Hazel seemed unfazed or perhaps simply willfully ignorant of what Ivy had done to their family and him.

Normally Asher would have been proud that his sister finally said something that wasn’t nonsensical or about fashion. He hated that she was right, but she wasn’t getting the point. They had to learn how to survive without her, Ivy had chosen this for them, and they had to move on. ”Enough.” Asher spoke through gritted teeth, his fist now on the table though really he hadn’t been able to stop it from trembling. ”We will rebuild—without her.” Asher let out a heavy breath through his nose and stood straight, adjusting his sleeve, which had become disheveled in his little outburst. Giving one last look to Hazel, he walked toward his office. This conversation was over.

Asher wasn’t a fool. He knew how much Hazel missed their sister. And behind all that rage and even with the lingering sting of betrayal—so did Asher. Ivy was just as clever as he was but with a far more creative mind. One of the few people with which he could be frank about anything. His doubts, his fears, and the things that troubled him. She knew his past and secrets and didn’t care if his suit was a name brand. She knew the things he had done and the sacrifices he had made. And yet…she’d given him up like some common criminal. Asher waved his hand, and the door closed behind him. He was alone. But that was just the truth of his life now.

[ end asher ]

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Fuck’s sake, Asher could be such a drama queen sometimes. His declaration that Ivy had never been a true Burke sounded like a stolen line of dialogue from one of Hazel’s favorite soaps, instead of something a human being would have said. Then again, Hazel had always been suspicious whenever her brother tried to show an emotion – that just didn’t suit the robot masquerading as the eldest Burke child. Still, as in-character as it might be for Asher to act like a character from Clash of Wands trying to fight for magical supremacy, Hazel couldn’t take it seriously. She rolled her eyes and gave a little huff. Asher was starting to toe the line between mildly annoyed and seriously pissed off, and he’d only been back for a hot sec since his little stint in Azkaban. Hazel wasn’t quite sure she was brave enough to test his will on such a sensitive subject.

Because she knew she’d manage to change his mind sometime, but it was still too early. They both knew the same truth – Ivy was a Burke, their sister, as much flesh and blood as Hazel and Asher were to each other. She was the one who kept the family together, even with their different styles and interests and ways of doing things. And, from any point of view, she was one of the more important pieces on the board for the Burke family. More than Hazel wanted to be, anyway. She knew that Asher knew that too, because as ridiculously petty as he was being – he wasn’t dumb. Hazel had never worked against her brother before, not in any real way really, but she couldn’t follow him on this. It was only a matter of making him see what she saw.

But she could wait, because in all honesty…she hadn’t completely forgiven Ivy either. Her sister had always been the most important thing in her life (well, besides the gold and fashion and elaborate vacays) and she’d left Hazel exactly when she needed her most. Made a big mess and then went off and left Hazel to pick up the broken pieces. She loved her sister more than anything, but she was still mad. So she could play along with Asher’s game for now. Picking at a little spot of lint on her robes, Hazel observed in a bored sort of tone, “So then there were two? How sad.” But she didn’t say anything else. Asher had a stormy expression on his face, and he looked more twitchy than he had in the past. Her brother had always been quick to draw his wand when it came to defending the family’s honor, and he was quite good at playing the role of fearsome protector. But there was a new sort of edge to that anger now, a bitterness that hadn’t been so close to the surface until the fire.

It wasn’t the right time to test him, and she watched almost warily as he stormed off past the dueling rings to return to his office. Hazel didn’t follow. She turned breezily around to continue watching a match, but her mind felt a million miles away from where she was. After a minute she gave an impatient sort of little sigh and announced as if anyone else cared, “Never too early for a drink.” She felt a new, strange sort of tension in her body as she sat gracefully on a stool at the bar and slid an entire bottle of wine over the counter towards her. It was just one of those days – although she seemed to be saying that an awful lot now. She couldn’t ever see the Burke family being whole again, although she might have said that once about an ugly piece of lead too. So fine, it would be up to her to pull off the most amazing transfiguration they’d ever seen. Lead to gold. Divided to united. Asher wouldn’t make it easy, but then again – Hazel never did either.

asher rowan burke
[End post Hazel!]