gods don’t pray [Asher]

[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Early July 2029

Cape Town, South Africa

Life was so unfair. At Hazel’s last session with Xiulan, the Seer had done her usual round of Divination magic and warned Hazel that she had a string of bad luck coming. Fine, she could deal, life couldn’t be sunny all the time. So Hazel had braced herself for several worst-case scenarios – one of her stilettos losing a heel, one of her kiddos actually daring to approach her during office hours, or even the possibility that the espresso machine in the staff lounge might break down (insert gasp here). When the end of term had arrived without any major calamities, and the students had fled home for the summer, Hazel thought she was in the clear for a lovely holiday with no bad luck attached (only bottomless mimosas and endless sun).

But the universe had outdone itself. The first bit of bad luck was the house-elf that’d shown up at her office with a summons home and explicit instructions to follow her around until she actually packed. The second bit was learning that South Africa was going through one of its coldest winters in ages (is this why she’d survived the summer term? To go home and wear layers again?). And the cherry on top of the shitstorm sundae arrived at the same time she did – her depressing brother with all the personality of a glass of milk. Hazel pretended not to notice him for at least the first couple days while she went through all the stages of grief. Her temper tantrum lasted longer than it normally might have, but after being plucked away from the gates of paradise so she could holiday with her obnoxious family…well, she thought it was quite deserved. And it certainly could’ve been worse.

Anyway, she’d passed angry and settled on sulky in these last couple days. Her nails made clicking sounds that seemed to bounce around the room as she tapped on her phone screen rapidly, swiping between multiple open tabs and convos. Hazel had gone shopping in the morning, and there were bags strewn around the room since she had no inclination to put anything away and the house-elfs hadn’t gotten to it yet. She groaned loudly and kicked off her heels so she could sprawl across the couch and sink into the cushions. “I’m so bored,” she whined, turning slightly so she could narrow her eyes at Asher from across the room. He’d been quiet so far, but Hazel still suspected that he was somehow at fault for them being here. He’d either written home with the idea, or he’d done something to cause their overbearing dad to want him close for supervision. Either way, Hazel wasn’t sure she’d ever forgive him.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

I'm going blind,
but one thing's clear

death is the only salvation
you'll feel

July 2029
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Business had never been better. However, the distraction of a Ministry of Magic career had prevented Asher from bringing his club and his other businesses closer to their full potential. Then again, avoiding most public places helped him focus as well. Without Ministry robes and more opportunities to avoid wearing a suit, Asher easily blended into the crowd—just another face among many with little distinction. Even if Law Enforcement’s eyes spotted him in a crowd, there was not much they could do as walking and existing was not against the law last, he checked.

After returning from a lunch invitation from Ava to discuss their mutual business through Harmony Vector, Asher received a letter. Even from a distance, he recognized the color of the paper before turning the envelope, revealing the seal his father used on all his post. Asher rolled his eyes in a way reminiscent of Hazel’s typical reaction. Not even Asher bothered with such things these days. His father’s handwriting was recognizable, and the message was short, summoning Asher to the family home in South Africa. Years had passed since he had last visited. Mostly out of avoidance and staying close to his work lest the Ministry decide to visit during a busy time once again.

Hazel made this reunion worse than it needed to be. Whenever their mother mentioned Ivy, Asher pretended not to hear or left the room. It wasn’t even lunch, and Asher returned from his thoughts as Hazel dramatically declared her boredom across the room. His eyes glanced over before looking away. The previous night, Asher learned their real reason for the summons. Caradoc Burke was ill. While not physically evident at first, if one truly looked, he didn’t look well. Now, what details their mother knew was yet to be revealed. She wasn’t ever one to pry or dig into their father’s business, happy to let him steer the family with an iron fist.

Ever since discovering this information, Asher had spent the better part of the last almost full day waiting to feel something—denial, doubt, sadness, smugness, anything. But he could honestly say he didn’t feel anything. ”You’re always bored.” Asher remarked flatly. There was nothing exciting about their childhood home except emotionless décor and walls. Still, this was the time to discuss the matter with Hazel. As the youngest, her relationship with their parents differed greatly from Asher’s. ”I spoke to father last night.” Asher stood to pour himself a drink. He filtered out that conversation's usual beratement and lectures and mentally pulled out the relevant details. Turning, he faced Hazel sprawled on the couch. ”He summoned us here because the attorneys have been ensuring everything is in order.” With all the family-owned, there was no doubt many I’m to dot and t’s to cross. Asher paused once more before sipping the brandy. ”He’s sick, Hazel.” Again, he felt nothing.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel was in the middle of building a complicated emoji chain to describe her visit home (there were plenty of disagreeable images that Asher would’ve scolded her for, but she’d moved on from them some time ago and was debating between two different kinds of shoes) when Asher responded. As usual, he spoke with all the emotional range and humanity of a burnt-out bulb, so Hazel responded with a sarcastic eye-roll as she sank into the plush cushions of the couch. She stretched out her legs dramatically as she tossed them over the side of the couch. Mummy would have a fit if she saw, but likely only because of the ‘damage’ that Hazel would be doing to the couch with such unladylike behavior. Asher must’ve inherited his ability to care about the most useless things from her.

Asher casually brought up their father – or thought he was being casual at least. He’d always been remarkably good at maintaining his poker face, but there was no emotion in his voice at all as he mentioned that they’d spoken last night. Which meant this was information he wanted to volunteer. Hazel didn’t stop tapping at her phone, but she sensed the danger. Had they been talking about her? Well, naturally they had. There was nothing more interesting going on in their lives. But in what way? Was an arranged marriage on the horizon, after years of her subtle and tasteful maneuverings to show she wasn’t suited for it? “And? What sort of heart attack did you give him this time?” Hazel asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She sat up slightly in anticipation. Easier to shift the blame onto Asher than assume that they were here for Hazel’s benefit (and/or early demise, but who cared?). “Have you been arrested again? Ooooh, please tell me it was for something fun this time. Public indecency, at minimum.” Not that Asher knew the meaning of indecent. The surgery he’d had done years ago to lodge a stick up his ass meant that he didn’t know how to have fun. But Hazel could hope.

At the mention of the word ‘attorneys’, Hazel gave a disappointed ‘hmph’ and settled back down onto the couch. So both her guesses were wrong. It wasn’t about her (because who’d need a solicitor for her?) and it likely wasn’t about Asher’s troublesome relationship with the law (or he’d have more to say about it). His tone was still greatly controlled, like he either didn’t have any emotions about what he was about to say or he’d buried them so deep they’d ended up near other unused things, like his sex drive or ability to cry. At his last words, Hazel’s expression didn’t change but she finally stopped tapping at her phone. She took a second to process his words, processed them, and then moved on. She finally sent off the emoji chain with a flourish. “Oh boo-hoo, is that why we’re here? Yellow tag for want it, red for would kill to have it, and blue for trash? You can have this whole room, babe. It looks like the Queen died here. Several centuries ago.” So this was why he was acting so wooden. Hazel couldn’t blame him. She’d been crying her eyes out over Ivy for ages, although needling Asher hadn’t convinced him that their reconciliation would be the best thing for everyone. But Hazel didn’t feel anything at all for dear old dad. Asher had always taken more interest in her than he had, sad truth being what it was.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

I'm going blind,
but one thing's clear

death is the only salvation
you'll feel

July 2029
Hazel Rosalie Burke

It was not until Asher mentioned their father was ill that the continuous sound of nails on the phone screen stopped. Somedays, he did not know which was worse—the ceaseless tapping of her nails or nearly a year of solitary confinement at the Ministry of Magic. Asher did not react to Hazel’s accusation. Training himself not to respond to Hazel’s ridiculousness had taken time, but if it bothered her, it was enough fuel for him not to react. Merlin knew she loved pressing his buttons while assisting in their maintenance and growth of power. There was no reason he could not do the same in his own way.

”Bold of you to assume I am the cause.” He replied. ”As if a wayward daughter with a tendency toward unrefined and barbaric manners wouldn’t be enough to drive a family into insanity.” While Hazel held her head high with the confidence provided by their name and blood status, she never had the legacy drilled into her inflated skull. Asher sipped from his glass. This was the brandy his father preferred, and Asher did not, but there was never much in terms of choices at the Burke family estate, not in anything.

As far as Hazel’s opinions were concerned, Asher was quite aware of what his younger sister thought of him. And he had no qualms with that image. There was much behind the surface she did not need to know. What good would sharing matters of the fear or the heart do? Not to mention her tendency to meddle when it suited her or she was bored. While Asher didn’t immediately respond, he silently agreed. There wasn’t any love lost on the family patriarch. ”I don’t know if he has told mother yet.” Asher thought aloud. ”And he won’t let me see the documents. I need to know his plans and if they include Ivy.” He drained his glass, pushing down the anger in his chest. Thus far, only Ava had been sympathetic to that situation, and she knew what discretion meant, unlike his sisters.

”You need to find out.” Caradoc would want to speak to his daughter eventually. Perhaps on the matter of their sister, it was more likely he’d bring Ivy up then. ”He’ll probably bring up marriage—pretend to be interested. He’ll likely be dead before anything can be arranged, anyway.” Merlin, if they never got that part nothing else would be discussed. Nothing wasn’t Asher’s goal.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

The pureblood community was full of drama and intrigue – families with ancient bloodlines battling it out for power, social standing, and becoming a pillar of the community. There could be major shakeups in this intricate landscape of families and power plays, especially after a lifetime-defining event like the rise and fall of the Purifiers. Still, you couldn’t discount the smaller life events too. Births, deaths, marriages – they all had a lot more meaning in the pureblood world than in the rest of magical society. But Asher somehow succeeded in making it all sound dry and boring. And for that, Hazel could never acknowledge that they were actually related. It would mean admitting that the drop-dead boring gene somehow existed in her too.

“Oh please, I’m Daddy’s favorite,” Hazel said with a very refined and non-barbaric sniff, eyes still glued to her phone even though she’d stopped typing a long while ago. She didn’t actually know if that was true, if only because she wasn’t sure if their parents loved any of them (at least in the traditional sense). He most certainly saw a use for her, that was true. And she hadn’t caused a scandal like Asher or Ivy (not a public one, anyway, even though her mother’s endless line of anxiety medications probably were because of her youngest daughter’s wild tendencies). But the point still stood. She hadn’t gone to prison and she hadn’t disappeared to Brazil for a year, which by default made her the least-scandalous Burke sibling. That thought actually horrified her, and she sat up a little straighter. “I need wine,” she declared to the room, deciding that alcohol was truly the only way she was going to survive this ridiculous trip home.

She used her wand to activate the cord that called a house-elf to the room, since Hazel didn’t want to get up and pull it herself. It only took a second for a loud crack to echo through the room as a house-elf appeared (Hazel didn’t remember its name, but then again she’d never bothered to learn it in the first place). Asher was still speaking, something about documents and Ivy, but Hazel swiftly ignored him. If he was going to be pig-headed about forgiving their sister, then she wouldn’t bother to listen to what he thought he wanted. “…and bring only one glass. Kthxbye!” Hazel decided after finishing off a lengthy list of bottles she wanted to see in an endless parade over the course of her trip home. They were rather expensive, but she wouldn’t mind seeing their dad’s blood pressure rise a bit (especially if that might be the thing to finish him off, if Asher’s health assessment could be considered accurate). Asher already had his own drink, but Hazel was still rather pouty at him and had therefore decided to make a very pointed decision not to include him in her ‘wine and whine’ pity fest.

Despite her best attempts to tune him out, Hazel stiffened at the last thing he said. The m-word. She forced herself to lean back on the couch like she didn’t care, but Hazel couldn’t deny that his demands were starting to stir her temper. She got annoyed easily, she threw tantrums, but her pettiness didn’t usually escalate into anything worse. “Oh I need to, do I?” she said frostily, tossing her phone to the cushion. She couldn’t focus on pretending not to listen. The truth was, she’d never taken commands very well, and she certainly didn’t intend to start now. “I dunno, Ash,” Hazel continued, her anger spiraling at the way he wanted to dangle her like bait to learn more about their dad’s inheritance plans and what Ivy might get. Especially because he knew how much she hated the thought of marriage, and once that train of thought started – nobody could guarantee that it wouldn’t spiral until she got forced down the aisle. “He might want to marry off his heir first. I mean, he’s just obsessed with making sure his only son is capable of carrying on his legacy. Wasn’t there talk of making a match with one of the Rosier girls once? Or a Nott?” She pretended to pause and think, although her posture screamed deadly intent and Hazel knew that her eyes matched the same level of iciness that Asher was famous for. “Couldn’t be a Carrow, though…Daddy would pitch a fit since they’ve fallen out of his favor.”

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

I'm going blind,
but one thing's clear

death is the only salvation
you'll feel

July 2029
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher ignored his sister’s protest. However, she may very well have been correct. If he was being honest, Asher wasn’t very sure what their father thought of his children. The only emotions he ever failed to hide were anger and disappointment. And their mother always appeared in some state of anxious despair. Again, Hazel’s outburst was not anything new. They might throw a regular man off balance, but certainly nobody from their family. While he waited for Hazel to settle herself with a glance of wine from their family’s vast collection. Many bottles were thickly covered in dust from the years in their cellar. To be saved for some occasion yet to occur.

The topic of marriage, however, caught her attention. As it would any of the Burke children. The constant lectures as children on legacy and all the related topics left them less than eager to fulfill those duties as pureblood children. Asher’s jaw clenched, if only because he knew Hazel was right. And Merlin knew there were plenty of unmarried Rosier daughters. Fortunately, Asher was not facing his sister when the last name entered his mind. The way his eyes shifted would have been the split-second Hazel would have needed to see through his armor. Taking a moment to drink from his glass, Asher finally turned.

”Father’s obsessions are the least of my worries.” Asher spoke calmly, letting his steely gaze meet his sister’s. ”The Carrows are still quite respected, despite what Father may think. And more so than any of the Karkaroff sons you choose to associate with.” Asher knew precisely why their father disliked the Carrows, and as far as he knew, their father was unaware of Ava’s reentry into Asher’s life. Such details he kept to himself, although she was a meaningful business connection in his world. ”This doesn’t solve our problem.” Asher drank from his glance again. While others might shrink under Hazel’s icy stare and attack posture, Asher certainly didn’t.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Since she’d put down her phone for the first time in like actually forever (Merlin knew the separation anxiety was going to set in soon), Hazel comforted herself by downing half the wine in her glass in one go. It was horribly unladylike of her, but that was how she got her kicks. Asher would purse his lips in disapproval, bask in his holier-than-thou attitude for being proven right, and Hazel could go on for another few minutes knowing that she’d always fail to meet expectations. Pure bliss, as far as she was concerned. Asher’s claim that he didn’t care about their father’s obsessions was dubious at best, and Hazel made a big show of rolling her eyes so he could see what she thought about that. Famous last words for a pureblood heir. “So can I have your trust fund when he cuts you off, pretty please?” Her tone was sickly sweet, but the fake innocence wouldn’t fool him.

He continued rambling on about the Carrows (mighty interesting since he’d had nothing to say about the Rosiers or Notts, but who could blame him for skipping over utterly forgettable fams), and Hazel continued to form a toxic codependent bond with her glass of wine. “You lot are the only ones who get me,” she told it matter-of-factly as she continued to nurse the glass, smoothly cutting through Asher’s poetic musings about the Karkaroffs as if she hadn’t heard him. But really, it was because she’d only recently needled Asher about Damian Karkaroff and it was too early to throw that into his face again. Her brother hated a lot of her habits, but it seemed to annoy him more whenever she did it around other purebloods (who might witness it or even, gasp, be corrupted by her). Never mind that Damian had never needed her to get himself into trouble. She had to be careful about how much she brought it up though, because her family’s crusade to find her a proper match probably wouldn’t skip over the Karkaroff family if they failed to find anyone better. And ultimately, a devilishly charming shackle was still a prison sentence. She dipped back into the Carrow well, if only because Asher seemed touchy about their ruined status. “Well then, you should totes teach Daddy a lesson. Since you know everything.”

Hazel couldn’t ignore the itch anymore, and picked her phone back up so she could open whatever social media app she’d last been scrolling through. She took a gander through her queued posts then looked up at Asher like he’d gone insane. “Why talk to him at all? Just go through his study and look for yourself. I pinch things when I get bored.” And usually returned them later, because their father could be vengeful when he wanted to make a point. Educating his children so they saw things his way always seemed to matter more than proper parenting. And for now at least, Hazel enjoyed her status as the golden child of the family. It suited her more than having to work hard for attention, like her poor hapless brother, and she didn’t want to do anything to risk that quite yet. Asher had gotten a bit too ambitious in the past and been burned for it. Hazel didn’t see any reason to fall into the same trap.

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

I'm going blind,
but one thing's clear

death is the only salvation
you'll feel

July 2029
Hazel Rosalie Burke

Asher’s eyes narrowed at Hazel, just short of scoffing at her childish response. As if he needed his family’s gold at this point. Everything he had worked for over the years was his and his alone. At one point in his life, he created a legal framework for his sisters to inherit should anything happen to Asher. Naturally, all that had been changed immediately following his release, as Ivy did not exist in that frame of reference. Although, at the moment, he wondered what Hazel actually deserved or earned. He supposed she should consider herself lucky, as she had proven far more loyal and valuable than Ivy.

”And what lesson would that be?” Asher snapped back a response. His exhaustion and anxiety left him on edge these days, especially under these circumstances. He had no interest in remaining at his family home any longer than necessary and not with Hazel’s incessant whining constantly in the background. Again, he drank from his glass, forcing down the bitter taste and all the bitter memories this place brought up for him.

The truth was that Asher needed to know where Ivy stood in their father’s eyes. After what she had done to the family—to him. Their father had spent years speaking of expectations and duty, and fairness was never a factor. Wasn’t it enough that Asher had entirely given up who he was for all those ideals? In the back of his mind, he wondered if their father was a hypocrite or a true believer. ”He doesn’t keep that information in his study.” Asher responded stubbornly, a hint of petulant annoyance in his voice.

Asher scoffed. Hidden anger brimmed just under the surface. He hated how he felt in this place. ”I don’t know why I bothered to ask for your help.” He began. ”You’re just a silly girl unable to look past your own reflection.” Asher would have balked at such a lack of composure in the past. But he wasn’t that man anymore. ”At least Ivy stood for something.” Nor would he ever have considered using his banished sister against his remaining sister, even when they stood at opposite ends. ”You’ve never had to sacrifice anything.” Asher spoke in a lower cutting tone. Hazel was full of herself because she’d never been forced to give pieces of herself away, while Asher’s soul might as well have been dying a death by a thousand cuts.

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[Hazel Rosalie Burke]

Hazel hadn’t actually thought through most of her insults before she flung them at her brother, so Asher’s willingness to engage with her needling of the Carrow family somewhat surprised her. She took a moment to chew her lip and consider, before letting a wicked smirk flicker across her face. “You could elope,” she suggested coyly, swirling the liquid in her glass as if she’d suggested nothing more interesting than taking a brisk walk through the gardens. “Wouldn’t that teach him not to cross you?” Unfortunately, most of her gossip about her brother was outdated. Once upon a time, he’d been the source of a lot of juicy rumors. Their dad had stamped those out pretty quickly and taken punitive action against the perceived source of corruption, but Hazel was willing to bet most of the gold in the family vault that Asher was still salty about it. He didn’t forgive or forget, and it was probably still a sore point. Anyway, he was always desperate to prove that he had good judgment (which anyone who saw the inside of his closet would know was a good joke).

She sipped daintily on the wineglass, as if her earlier day-drinking had been just as dignified and sophisticated. The truth was, Hazel was aware that toeing the line with Asher had never been so dangerous. He usually took her teasing in good stride, since everybody knew not to take Hazel too seriously. But he’d been different since he came back from Azkaban. A little more unhinged, a little quicker to blow a fuse. He’d never forgiven Ivy for the role she’d played, and it was risky to bring their sister up at all. Still, showing any of that would be a calculated mistake. Hazel simply rolled her eyes at Asher and polished off the glass, setting it on the side table so the house-elf would know to fill it up again (honestly, Hazel sometimes forgot to notice whether they were still in the room or not).

“Oh, boo-hoo! Poor Ash, the only pillar of wisdom in a world that’s gone mad.” Hazel’s tone was mocking, and her smile had lost its mischievous tilt to it as she snorted contemptuously at him and his righteous attitude. “Maybe you’re the one who’s gone mad. Who kept your bloody club going while you were playing games with the Ministry? Who got hounded for months by all the tabloids about her daft older brother? And where were all of Ivy’s values and principles when she skived off for a year? You lot got to hide away while we lost everything. I watched it all happen while everyone was watching me.” The wine glass had mysteriously filled itself again while the house-elf faded into the background, and Hazel sipped at it while she fumed and clutched at her phone tightly. She thought back to Asher’s obsession with knowing how their father viewed Ivy. “And you know what? Maybe Ivy doesn’t deserve her inheritance. But what would you do with yours? Spend it all on your legal defense the next time your plan goes massively wrong?”

asher rowan burke

[asher rowan burke]

I'm going blind,
but one thing's clear

death is the only salvation
you'll feel

July 2029
Hazel Rosalie Burke

“What on earth are you talking about?” In theory, Hazel’s point was valid—an excellent suggestion. However, one couldn’t elope with oneself—unless they were Hazel Burke, of course. Asher wanted nothing more than to defy his father. It was all too easy at this stage, with the illness making him weaker by the day. And yet, Asher would never admit how their father’s gaze transported him back to all those years of his youth. The subjugation through any means necessary to mold Asher to his will. Sometimes, he wondered how different it would have been if he wasn’t the only son.

Hazel didn’t hesitate to respond. And while annoyed, Asher momentarily felt proud. While she floated through life like a gold leaf caught in the wind, Hazel never shied from defending herself. The more she went on, the tighter his jaw clenched. The thought of logic and rationality only further infuriated him. Deeply, he inhaled through his nose, failing to calm himself. ”Merlin—“ Asher flicked his wand, sending Hazel’s glass flying until it shattered against the nearest obstacle. ”Do you ever stop talking.” Through gritted teeth and a shuddering exhale, Asher glared at his youngest sister.

In these moments, nothing mattered. Not all the galleons that lined his vaults or the fear he struck in other’s eyes. Nor the knowledge that he’d won victories over enemies like Bianca Rivera and her crusade. His life wasn’t simple, nor had it ever been. The true curse in his life was his family and name. Unfortunately, nothing could remove the invisible weight nor the marks seared into his soul. ”Mistakes like that will not happen again.” Asher declared in an angry whisper. ”I let too many influence my path—and I’ve paid dearly for that. You’re right. The business remained afloat due to your efforts. For which I am grateful—“ Slowly, he began to fix his posture, fiddling with his cufflinks. ”—grateful you finally proved you aren’t as useless as most of the glittering items in this house.” Finally, he pushed his hair back where a bit had fallen into his face. ”I refuse to remain a pawn in outdated plans and sacrifice for other’s gain. My path is forward, which you are most welcome to walk—if you continue to prove yourself useful.” Gold coins, the best brandy, and all the respect and fear in the world did nothing for cracks formed by the pressure inside.

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