Detention (Seth & Oione)

[Oione Mireault]

All the shocking information must have taken their toll on Seth's already beyond-repair mental health, because he seemed to have lost his marbles completely, this time. However, Oione could not help but exhale a tiny sigh of relief upon this, since wondering what the boy's reaction to this sudden piece of revelation might be kept her tensed up and nervous for ages (or at least it felt like it) and after a minute or two his laughter became contagious and Oione joined in, relieving all the stress she had been bottling up, her shoulders shaking.

"Of course, we're going to bloody France"
Yes, world must have started spinning in the opposite direction in this room, or perhaps all the magical books produced another dimension because Oione Mireault would never ever use 'France' and 'bloody' in one sentence. This time, though she was too drunk with triumph and smugness to even notice.
"That's why I wrote to him" she added, giving away the not-so-secret-anymore receiver of her letter.

This wasn't going to be as easy as Seth might expect, they needed to keep it secret from the Rookwoods and most of all they needed to act subtly (which wasn't Seth's strongest point, truth to be told), Oione did not want an inner-family war to break out in the household of Grubennierre and that was possible if Richard's (now Etienne's) wife and children did not know about his past. That was why Oione invented the whole story with career-advice and Jude Milton (whom she silently thanked for having a Mudblood-ish name).

Obviously Seth came up with the most hot-tempered plan in the history of plans, but his nature was written all over it, in fact she didn't expect him to come up with a more reasonable idea.
"His feckin' sons are your half-brothers"Oione informed grimly, sitting back down and pulling the Broomstick Makers of of the Twenty-First Century closer. "We can't just appear on his doorstep like that. And we need the address to Apparate there, you know."
She traced the lines with her finger, squinting in the faint light of her wand. It was indeed a convincing story, a vague and untraceable childhood history up to late teens and the sudden breakthrough in the broomstick industry, perfectly believable. They had taken much effort into making Richard Wilkes really die in the eyes of history.

"I don't think you're stupid, Seth" Oione said earnestly, listening to Seth's ranting with angelic patience. "You just refuse to think, sometimes"
Which was a delicate way of saying 'Yes, you are an idiot but not as much of an dolt as people like to think'. She never found him to be a fool, even though at times she forgot that she didn't. Seth Silver could be a complete bastard to her and everyone around, make an arse out of himself whether he needed it or not and offer Snape friendly advice while cleaning cauldrons, but simultaneously the same Seth that did this all, read a lot and was an excellent fighter for his age. He just lacked something that had been so obviously bestowed upon Oione Mireault- insatiable craving for information. The girl might refuse to accept it, but she had inherited it from her mother, however, in her case it far surpassed harmless gossip. Knowledge was power and she realised it from her earliest years, even back then she avoided asking blunt questions so typical for small children.

[Seth Silver]

Of course, Seth had never even thought about the fact that he had half-brothers. When he had first been forced to move into Limerick at the age of four, Seth would have given anything for brothers. His popularity with the local children had not come on for years, not until he had changed his Manchester accent to a full Limerick, and even then the mater had been stingy about letting him out to mix with the "common" children. But now it felt odd to think of having brothers, after all these years. Seth frowned. He would have preferred if the mater had simply told him his father was Richard Wilkes, a dead man with no family. This Etienne Grubennierre stuff was far to complicated, what with the man having himself another family. And how had they got off with the lie for so many years? Tom hardly kept it a secret that his brother was alive and in France, running a broomstick company. Well, he'd kept it a secret to all but Seth, and that wasn't a very clever move altogether.

'That letter ye wrote him then, ye wrote it out with yeer own name, or someone else's?' A plan was beginning to formulate in Seth's mind, clearing away sixteen years of cobwebs. Oione was usually the one who made the plans, as she was generally a lot better in that area, but Seth was beginning to think he might actually be on to something. He felt almost clever, ingenius, even. If Oione had wrote the letter out with another's name, the two could slip off together to France, and she could pretend to be someone else, and Seth her brother. Perhaps he might even change his hair colour or something (with the help of Oione), or perhaps....'Hey - could ye get one of yeer brother's hairs or soomink? Somethin' ye might put into a Polyjuice....' If Richard - Etienne - could not recognise Seth as Seth, he might be more inclined to let them inside his home, and from there they could do as Oione dictated, seeing as she was the one with the good ideas.

As for the address, Seth should have no problem attaining that. He was a master at finding people, especially people who did not wish to be found. It was a habit of his that he'd had for as long as he could remember, and he always seemed to end up with the people he was looking for, no matter where they were. It was always accidental, of course, because looking for someone led him the wrong way, but when he was off on his own and had given up the search, people appeared out of nowhere. If they knew at least which region of France to begin with, Seth was certain they would chance upon the Grubennierre family in no time. All they had to do was holiday there and pretend to be disinterested in the family's whereabouts. That was usually enough to make his natural-born instinct kick in.

An excitement had settled in the boy's stomach like a panicked frog, and Seth found himself planning every minute detail of their little detour to France. He would have to keep everything a secret from the mater and Augustus, of course, as they were horrible nosy and would no doubt do their best to keep him as far from France as possible. It would be impossible, though, tio hide from them forever that he knew about Richard Wilkes and the not-so-secret scandal that everyone liked to talk about when they thought he couldn't hear. That was what excited Seth the most about the entire thing. It was not in finding his father, for he highly doubted the man would want him hanging around after he was found out, nor was it in having two brothers (of which Seth could certainly live without, the gits). It had always infuriated him when, at dinner parties, his mother's friends would open their mouths the moment she left the room, pretending he had gone temporarily deaf as he poured their drinks and attended their every tiny need. He hated not knowing the entire story, and thus not being able to laugh at them for their idiocy. He was just as ignorant as the dinner party ladies, though not nearly as gossip-prone, and could not contradict them in any way. The most, indeed, he could hope to do was "accidentally" spill some tea on Madam Franck's new robes, or drop a candle in someone's hair. While this provided a temporary sense of satisfaction, Seth knew he would be eternally frustrated, unless he knew every painful detail of his conception.

Let Madam Franck wag her chin all she wanted, and Mrs Mireault, Mme Elisabetha, Olivia Morovsky, Francesca di Malfoi, Theresa Madgemagus, Eleanora Fudde, Fiorella Charpentier, and all the rest of the tea part group. They could pretend he was deaf and talk themselves mute (hopefully they would do just that), but he would know the truth, and when the time came to wipe the smug look off every one of those bugger's rotten faces, it would be Seth Silver that had done it, and they could chalk it up to his unfortunate circumstance, his affliction, his thick head - whatever they were saying about him these days.

'I can apparate us there no problem. What did ye write to him for, anyway?'

[Oione Mireault]

This family thing wasn't really helping them, if Richard Wilkes would be a lonely bachelor as his older brother liked to describe him their task would have been just painfully easy as they could just follow Seth first resolution and just appear on the said man's doorstep.
Even to Oione the thought of Seth having brothers seemed...odd and unrealistic to say the least, she glanced down at the book. Robert and Jean-Marcel Grubennierre. Those two names weren't just writings printed on fine paper, they were two, living, breathing human beings that lived somewhere in south of France with Seth's father. Oione just hoped that they weren't as insufferable as their eldest brother, because she was quite certain she would not be able to handle two more Seths in whatever form. Her head was beginning to ache from all this.

"Of course I didn't write as myself, I'm not stupid" Oione snapped. "I wrote as a NEWT student needing a career advice and signed as Jude Milton."
That should work, the girl reassured herself silently, she heard it was a popular custom among seventh years and Oione's brother himself had written to some wizard journalist from Paris so that he could receive useful tips for his future job.

Before the whole truth surfaced she vaguely planned on telling Wilkes (or Grubennierre) everything she knew the minute she got him alone. Now, as she reconsidered it, that plan wasn't a good one at all (and would probably require some of her improvisational skills). Oione Mireault suddenly felt at loss, which wasn't a feeling she was used to, but then a miracle came...it the person of an all-too-familiar boy beside her.

"That's a brilliant idea" she gazed up at him with almost pious adoration in her large eyes. Who knew what fresh solutions lay there, hidden in the depths of Seth Silver's rarely used brain.
Jerome's hairs would be easy to obtain as the girl tugged at them whenever she had the time for her sisterly duties, which meant large amounts of pestering. However, the potion part wasn't really that easy, the ingredients were hard to get and it took a month to brew it, unless, of course..."We have to steal the Polyjuice Potion from Snape on our next detention" Oione stated in a very final sort of voice.

"Isn't that obvious? I had to know if he was your dad and then, well, do something about it" came Oione's response, which in her own ears sounded rather...silly, but before their discovery her plan was shapeless.
What unnerved her the most was Richard and his family reaction. From what she had concluded the man wasn't indifferent towards Seth, he had helped him, after all, on many occasions through his own brother. However, if his wife and children were oblivious to their breadwinner's past, the situation could quickly become steamy.

[Seth Silver]

'I know,' said Seth, not half cockily. He had moments of self-love that could outdo even Gilderoy Lockhart. Seth liked to believe he had this fantastically brilliant super-genius in him, only it had gone into hiding because of Augustus or something, and now he was digging it out slowly. One day he reckoned he might even be cleverer than Oione. 'Anyway, the potion's no problem. Snape's a bastardt, but I can get us one tomorrow, if ye like.' He grinned coyly at her, trying to wink and failing miserably at it. 'I know a seventh year in Ravenclaw what can actually stand talking to me, and he happens to have a brother what does a mail-order service for potions, and I know I've seen Polyjuice in his catalogue.'

Things were beginning to come together. Suddenly, this cobbled together plan was starting to gain a shape. The biggest problem they were facing now was what to say when they met his elusive father, although Seth was certain even that could not stop them. He was sure he would be able to make something up once they got there, and Oione was always good with words. She had a talent he would never even hope to have. In fact, he didn't hope to have it. Being horrible with words and painfully blunt came quite in handy sometimes.

'Hey - ' Seth nearly laughed. 'Aren't ye glad ye made me learn French? Come in handy, din' it?'

He could not have been more pleased with himself. Sure, Oione taught him French, but Seth was the one who actually struggle dto learn it. Oh, he might have opposed the learning at some time or other, but that was all in the past. He spoke French by his own genius, of course, the one that was hiding inside and just dying to get out.

'Anyway, what's yeer broother's name again? Jay'rome, or soomink, weren't it?'

[Oione Mireault]

Until this moment Oione Mireault never expected that she would personally experience being dumbfound. She liked to thing that there weren't many things that could suprise her and even a smaller amount of things that could impress her, albeit here she was with round glassy eyes and mouth slightly agape, apparently having fallen into a speechless stupour. Inside her head thoughts like 'what the hell?' and 'Seth's actually a genius' danced Irish jigs.

Oione opened her mouth to speak but nothing really came out as she stared soundlessly at her friend.
Seth Silver had connections and he was observative.
This just couldn't be happening!
But it was happening, not only had he suggested a fairly good plan but also they would have the Polyjuice potion by tomorrow without getting on Snape's to-kill-off list.
"Wow" she finally managed to gasp out and she was certain that anybody else put in her position, be it Cecil Marzel or Augustus Rookwood would react in the same way. Coming to her sense, she cleared her throat.
"Whoever you are" Oione narrowed her eyes in mock menace "You better give my old Seth back"
The girl laughed and shook her head. Fate seemed to be on their side for once, in fact they didn't even have to involve Tom Wilkes in their plan, it carried additional risk with it and now that they would have the potion was simply needless.

"Phi. With tht accent of yours? This could be hardly mistook for French" Oione chuckled with only a mild air of sarcasm. She rarely complimented anyone and she definitely wasn't use to praising Seth, Salazar only knew in what narcisstic issues it could result. It was enough that he acted like her mother whenever in front of a mirror. The girl grinned to her thoughts.
"It's Jerome" she snapped, however far from irritated and glad her borther wasn't present. 'Why of all retarded people out there you had to choose one with a speech disorder' he was most likely to say while rolling his eyes.
Jerome Mireault, a seventh year Slytherin happened to be one more of the old Sorting Hat's jokes, since apart from looks he didn't seem to have inherited any other traits the bloodline was famous for.

[Seth Silver]

Seth snorted. The usual reaction to anything he said was a roll of the eyes in most cases, detention or loss of house points in some, and a slap round the head from Augustus and his mother. "Wow" was hardly something he was used to. Mostly what Seth considered to be strokes of genius were laughed at or scorned as his usual stupidity.

'Yeah, Jerome, that's it. And I could do a French lad if I wanted.' Wrinkling his nose and raising an eyebrow, Seth said snootily, ''Ow are you doing, Monsieur Grubennierre? My seester and me, we have come to see what you do in zis...broomstick business. I am Jerome Mireault, and zis is Oione. May we come in, peh'raps? Eet is 'orribly cold today.'

All right, so being Jerome would definitely take some work. Seth's French accent, while it did not hold any traces of his strong Irish, made him sound stupid and rather like he had a horrible head cold. He had a tendency for overdoing it.

'See? Now ye've just got to help me, eh? I'll have it down in no time. Only, it'd probably be good if we changed the names 'round. Ye wrote Jude in yeer letter, right? So who says I've got to be French? I could be English. The mater made me learn an English accent for use 'round her, and I could brush up on it well fast. So, I'll be Jude, and you'll be...Marcy.' He smiled to himself as if in on some secret joke. 'Jude and Marcy Milton. Big brother and his little sister tryin' to break into broomstick making.'

[Oione Mireault]

Oione chuckled.
"Not 'alf bad" she grinned, forgetting that not so long ago, in her first years at Hogwarts she spoke with the same throaty accent. It seemed like ages ago now.
However, Oione didn't really think that making Seth imitate Jerome properly would be neccessary as there was no way Richard Wilkes would be letting Mireault siblings into his house, unless of course he wanted to commit suicide and needed someone to help him with it. The infamy Oione's family had in France definitely couldn't have faded during those sixteen years, especially that leaving they made sure to be remembered.
"I don't think we'll have to do this" she said, taking the two books. Once they were in Grubennierre's house it was up to her, the Polyjuice would give them an hour to explain everything.
She nodded as Seth ploughed on.
"Yeah, I thought you'd be a better Jude Milton than I, especially since you will really look like a seventh year"
Standing miserable 5'2" she was easier to mistake for a second year.
"Marcy?" she furrowed her brows in a sudden wave of incredulity. "What kind of a ridiculous name is that? But..." she rolled her eyes. "I guess it's still better than mine. Fine you win."

[Seth Silver]

'Thought ye wouldn't like Marcy,' Seth confided, grinning like a loon. 'I heard it in Limerick once, thought it sounded well Muggle, but ye could always go for Mary. That one's well popular in Limerick as well, or maybe Keira or Nora or soomink.' He licked his lips. 'What ye think, hm? Jude and Nora Milton. Even better than Jude and Marcy Milton.'

Seth's bright attitude and cheery tones would have been enough to make his mother slap him, had she been there. The mater hated it when Seth was clever, happy, or anything else she was not feeling herself. More than enough times she had knocked him around for "smiling too much" or "laughing when there's really no reason to". She'd feel better, he thought, if he was eternally sad and angry. She seemed to have that effect on people anyway, though, and a few more years with her Seth felt he'd probably be at that point.

'Anyway,' he interjected, making a point to enunciate it, 'What do we after we've got inside to talk to him? I mean, do we wait till once the Polyjuice wears off, or start in right away?'

It was a great consternation to him, this simple problem. Seth had never been horribly good at timing. He was alway off, somehow, laughing when someone had died and crying over jokes that weren't funny. He was caught half of the time between being happy and foul, polite and rude. He never said the right thing, well, the socially acceptable thing. Political correctness was a term entirely foreign to him.

[Oione Mireault]

"Whatever. You can call me Arsey the Arse Pirate if that makes you happy" she snickered, rolling her eyes in an obvious display of impatience. Surely, Seth might have his moments of mind-blowing genius but most of the time he did concentrate on things that to people like Oione were completely insignificant. "There's no way I'm staying as Marcy, Nora or any other Limerick name you'll come up with" Oione muttered, her nose semi-permanently glued to the Broom Makers of the Twentieth First Century pages as she read on greedily about Etienne Grubennierre's made-believe school-years and first steps in the Quidditch industry.

However, Seth's good mood had proved itself infectious and wiped all doubts Oione might have had about their delicate mission. They were, after all, invincible or at least she felt as if they were, but put in their position everyone was bound to swell with pride. They have just discovered a secret that had been kept not only from them, but from the entire world for nearly sixteen years. And what was the best part...the other side didn't have the faintest idea what information they held and it was better if it stayed that way. Augustus would probably strangle them both with his bare hands.

On the other hand, Seth's step-father and his role in this artful mystification couldn't help but intrigue Oione Mireault to the point of infuriating curiousity that could not be satisfied for the time being. How come that he accepted (even though reluctantly) Seth Silver, the shame of the whole family as his rightful heir when he knew the boy's father was alive and doing well? Why didn't he ordered Richard Wilkes to take his bastard son the day he was born? That would spare him the humiliation and gossip.
She slammed the book shut in sudden rush of anger.
"Ooohhhh. I'd give a kingdom for Veritaserum" she murmured to herself, consumed by the wildfire of the unknown. However, whatever schemes Oione would invent for Augustus Rookwood, they had to wait.

"Leave it to me" she waved it off with Ceasar-like gesture. Truth to be told, Oione still had to form her little speech, but she knew that even the lamest one would be a better than allowing Seth to speak for himself, not to mention that the additional hour they gained thanks to the Polyjuice potion gave them enough time to explain everything.

[Seth Silver]

'I could not!' shouted Seth, mortified. 'Arsy?' He shook his head, lowering his voice a bit as he remembered where he was. It was never a good idea to test the fates, especially not when you were Seth Silver. Better not to be caught out after hours. 'Arsy? What am I - an eejit? I'd call ye Augustus before I ever resorted to Arsy the Arse Pilot, or whatever it were.' Seth went on for a moment, shaking his head and whispering "Arsy" repeatedly. He felt indignant and horribly underestimated. Of course, Seth Silver was guilty of being an idiot on more than one occasion, but Arsy the Arse Pirate was truly pushing it, he thought. Then again, Oione was French....

Speaking of the French - Seth was beginning to wonder the worst case scenario if all did not go well with Etienne Grubennierre. His experiences told him a man such as Grubennierre was not overly likely to ruin a good thing and share with his family that he had indeed fathered a bastard child sixteen years before, with a woman married to an an Irish Death Eater/Knight of Walpurgis. Not to mention the fact that he continued to support said bastard child even after fathering to legitimate sons with a woman he obviously loved more than the wife of the Death Eater in the first place. And then there was Augustus to consider. No doubt the man would be beyond livid when he found out was his stepson was up to, and Seth knew Augustus would find out. He always found out. Augustus would slaughter him, publically, after drawing and quartering him and subjecting him to a few days in a locked chamber with the mater, who would do nothing less than boil him alive.

'What do I tell me mam?' Seth asked suddenly, a shadow of worry crossing his face. 'She'll murder me when she finds out. And she'll tell Augustus, and he'll murder me.....'

[Oione Mireault]

Oione smacked her forehead for the third time that night.
Honestly, all the admiration and worship she might have had for Seth Silver minutes ago seemed to have evapporated like a puddle on a hot summer day.
She regretted she had opened her mouth in the first place.
"I was being sarcastic for your information" she said, taking a calming breath and raising her eyes to Heavens (that happened to be a ceiling now). Oione Mireault really needed to learn how to brew the Draught of Patience if she wanted to maintain her friendship with Seth without any further damage of her mental health. Though it would probably involve drinking it daily.

Oione tried not to think about it, but the all the blackest scenarios crept uninvited. What if Grubennierre wasn't too pleased with their sudden visit, maybe after all those years he didn't really along for a reunion with his long lost son, not to mention all the chaos it might cause among his new family. Her stomach gave a nervous flipflop. But there was no turning back once they have gone this far.

"Don't you tell your mother anything!"
Sooner or later Augustus and Amerelia would find out, because there was no way one could keep a secret amongst the Pureblood Society, but what the girl aimed for was putting this unfortunate moment off for as long as it was possible. For the time being, Seth and Oione appeared to be the winning party, the only person that had the vague idea that they were up to something was Severus Snape, who (as far as Oione knew) was no directly involved in this and threfore it was unlikely for him to mention those strange questions to Augustus and even less likely to her parents as he wasn't really fond of them (and vice versa).
"Since Augustus is not going to be at the ceremony they won't know that we strayed a little while going home. " Oione concluded, trying to feel as confident as she sounded. "Besides, we're joining the Knights. It'll keep us safe from his wrath for a while"

((basically it's crap))

[Seth Silver]

'Yeah,' Seth said sarcastically, nodding, 'As if I'd be sending her anything anytime soon. I hardly talk to her as it is, nasty witch.'

Seth did his very best to steer clear of the Mater and Augustus as much as physically possible. He could hardly help it when they sought him out, but, for the most part, Seth's parents seemed content to pretend he never existed at all. They always knew what he was up to, though. Whether one of them was in possession of an Inner Eye, or if they simply spied on him Seth could not tell, but the mater was always aware when he was getting himself into something, and she usually told Augustus rather than confront him herself. He tugged a strand of black hair, immersed in the story his mind was begun to create - the mater getting a letter in the post from Etienne Grubennierre, who she did not know, written in some code the two had devised ages ago while they were in school, and she would read it quickly, hardly interested at first, but would suddenly see the code for Seth, and her mouth would drop. After finishing her letter she would leave note for Augustus, then rush off to France (in secret) and turn up pounding into Grubennierre's front door. He didn't want to think of the chaos that would ensue after.

'Yeah, everyone'll be a bit less disposed toward drawing and quartering me once I've joined a seret society for Purebloods,' he smirked. 'Gabh mo leithsceal, by the way. It's the passcode you'll have to know for the meeting - Irish. Means "sorry".' Seth laughed. 'They were thinkin' of me when they made it no doubt, and saved me the trouble of havin' to say it when I mess up royally and turn the whole thing arse-o'er-tit.'

[Oione Mireault]

"They will find out eventually" Oione stated the inevitable with a sort of grim certainty in her voice. Because, from the experience she had it was extremely hard to keep anything a secret long enough for it to become out-of-date and therefore insignificant. Hell, she doubted that even someone as enigmatic as Cecil Marzel would manage to achieve such thing if his world was filled people like Oione's mother or Augustus Rookwood (on the other hand, maybe his world was filled with such people, after all). Early in her life Oione Mireault discovered that the only way to survive was to become a convincing liar able to satisfy a very demanding audience.

"We'll just have to keep it all hushed up for as long as possible and involve as little people as we can."
The only little thing that she failed to mention to Seth and that immensely unnerved her at the moment was that she wrote to her mother asking about Richard Wilkes and that it was probably the cause of the alarm (of which Seth probably wasn't aware of despite his strokes of genius) in the Rookwood's estate.
Hopefully that moment of recklessness wouldn't make them pay for it dearly in the future.
All she ever wanted was to just find out who Seth's father was, that was all and now she had pulled them both into a right mess without even having second thoughts.

"I'll gladly see it" Oione laughed earnestly. ""Will make me feel much better when I'll be the one to make a prat of myself in front of everyone"
She would have never thought how lightly she would be speaking about something so serious, it was almost as if Seth's enthusiasm had been passed on to her. But it was a decision she had to make and once made it was no turning back, having dealt with it Oione felt a bit light-headed as this dilemma stopped consuming her from within. Now all that was left for her to do was writing to Bellatrix and getting ready for their journey.

[Seth Silver]

Seth shook is head. Oione make a prat of herself? She oozed Pureblood grace and charm in social situations! It was he who was always stumbling over what to say and ending up saying the wrong thing. 'Pur-lease. You - making a prat of yeerself? And I'm the King of Feckin' France!' Of course, the fact that France was a democracy was void in this instance. For five seconds while Seth did his best to look clever, France had become the most simple-minded monarchy in the world.

'Anyway, ye'll have to learn all the rituals and vows and everything - it's different for girls than boys, o' course, less complicated, as boys are idiot anyway and have got to prove more than girls. But, ye'll have to know at least the Rite of Passage, the chants for the branding ceremony and the runing ceremony, and the vow at the end, where ye promise to be a good Pureblood and put the purity of wizarding blood and the protection of people in possession of it above all else, as there's really not many of us left anymore.'

[Oione Mireault]

"I'm really glad I've immigrated then, Your Majesty" Oione chortled, grinning at Seth.
True, she might have possessed the grace and suavity generations of good genes had provided her, but it didn't mean she didn't have her moments of awkwardness, though they were quickly wiped away with a broad smile, smooth words and the endless self-confidence Oione Mireault was known for.

"Well, I don't really have much time left to learn it, do I?" she sighed. The rest of the candidates had been informed about all the rituals much earlier and Oione, who put off everything till the last minute was left with no more than a few days if her aunt's reply would arrive on time. Making a complete idiot out of yourself was possible when you had your mind occupied with Richard Wilkes and Etienne Grubenniere and definitely not with keeping the blood pure could turn the whole situation into a one great scene in the theater of humiliation and Oione'd rather hand Snape candy than be humiliated in front of people that didn't take her seriously from the very beginning. However, there was always hope that Seth would make a worse arse out of himself and therefore wash her shame away or at least make it less noticeable.
"I still think those Knights are a bit pointless. I mean, what are they going to do? Inbred themselves into a corner?"