Cynthia was in the kitchen finishing preparing dinner. All of her kids were home, and she was thankful for it. It was only a few days until Christmas and she still had plenty of things to do. Mark was being strange. And she wanted to  know why. She didn't want to go straight to Mark and question him. She needed to ask someone who knew.

Luckily, she arrived two days ago.

"Julie? Can you help me cut some carrots?" Cynthia called from the kitchen to the model in the living room.

Julie was enjoying herself in the living room, listening intently to the different and varied conversation; among them including a heated debate between two eleven years olds, and a mild banter between Jane and Mark. Julie smiled, even amidst the craziness she had been having at home with Mark, it felt nice to be somewhere that felt like home no matter who you were.

She heard Mrs. Hunter's call from the kitchen and stood up, excusing herself as she walked into the kitchen. "What do you need help with?" Julie asked polietly, rolling up the sleeves of her shirt and getting ready for whatever Cynthia needed her to do.

"I was wondering if you could help cut up some carrots." Cynthia said, pointing with a knife before going back to cutting up celery. "You know, i would ask Jane, but she can't cut straight." Cynthia joked. She continued to cut, getting ready to place the last veggies into the stew. It was going to be a great stew. It had been slow cooking for hours.

"So, what is Mark hiding from me?" She asked bluntly, her eyes not leaving the celery. It was like ripping off a band-aid. The quicker,  the better. Odds are, she'd get a good answer by just asking bluntly.

Julie shifted the cutting board and picked up the knife, smiling at Cynthia's little joke. "I'm sure Jane could do it," she amended, "We'd just have to teach her sometime."

Cynthia's blunt question interupted Julie's train of thought and her muscles tensed for a moment. What was Mark hiding from his mother? Well, there was a lot Julie could say to try and divert her from the truth, plus Mark trusted Julie with these secrets for a reason; she was good at keeping them.

"Oh, not much I believe," Julie started, pausing her work for a moment before refocusing and trying to talk and cut at the same time. "Did he tell you about when we... well, we split for about a week. That was my fault, I got overwhelmed." Now Julie was so caught up in thinking about it, she realized she had never talked about it to anyone. And Cynthia was the perfect person to just spill you guts to; she was friendly, welcoming, and she would listen to Julie ramble.

"I feel terrible, I made him cry. I told him I couldn't handle the stress anymore and I just walked out on him. And when he came to apologize, he said that I was too good for him and he just wanted to say sorry." Julie sighed and looked up at Cynthia, "You did a great job raising him, he's perfect."

Julie was on a roll, the petite French girl could talk your ear off given the chance. "But there still is blame to lay because when I came home there was an a-" She blushed, "Nothing. There was nothing." She said quickly, mentally berating herself for her last comment.

Cynthia nodded through the story. She knew about the break up. Mark had owled her several times during the week, complaining of the broken heart. She didn't blame Julie for it. Odds are there was something Mark did. It was the way hearts worked. You screw up, it breaks, you fix it. And then you repeat the process over and over again, until you meet the one who doesn't care when you screw up. "No, no, I knew about that. Trust me, that boy can complain when he's upset!" She joked, smiling. She knew Mark was no Harris- boy.


"You did a great job raising him, he's perfect."

Cynthia couldn't help but smile. "You know, as a mother, I try." She slid the cut up celery into the pot. "No, but for real, what did he bring home? An animal? He's been weird. I tried asking him how the potion business was going, and he didn't want to talk about it. Now, It may just be me, but I can tell somethings wrong with his job."

She crossed her arms. "You can tell me."

Julie set down the knife, finishing the task she'd been assigned. She leaned against the counter with a sigh, facing Cynthia. "Alright, it was a woman." She said, "And I jumped to conclusions before I knew the whole story, but later I found out that she had tried to kill him and he had been interrogating her."

"And, right before we got here, we received a series of threats. Someone wants Mark dead, and subsequently I'm in danger." She admitted, throwing her hands in the air. "So, I guess we're putting everyone here in danger just by being here!"

"Honestly, Cynthia, I just don't know how to handle it. Mark says he's got it covered, but I can't help but think of worse case scenarios and I can't sleep because literally every one of my dreams turns into a nightmare." She said, "And if that's how it's affecting me, I can't begin to think of how it's affecting Mark!"

Cynthia stood there stunned. "Why would someone want to kill him?" She directed her attention to the stew trying to move her mind. Someone trying to murder him? Her son, the boy who couldn't harm a fly? That Mark? "Come here, sweetie." Cynthia said, extending her arms, ready to give the mom-my-ist hug ever.

"It'll all be okay. Someone's just trying to scare you. It's all a joke, alright? You're safe here, and if you want, I'll put up some defensive spells. Now, why would someone make a threat like that?" Cynthia said. She wanted to help her kids anyway she could

Julie started to tear up as Cynthia extended her arms for a hug, Jules loved Mrs. Hunter's hugs. They were perfectly motherly hugs that made you feel all warm inside. Julie's mom had never mastered the art of hugging.

"I don't know," Julie admitted softly, hiccuping through her tears. "That would be nice," she said in reference to the defensive spells as she pulled out of the hug. "I just, it doesn't make sense to me."

"Rien ne fait plus de sens.[1]" She whispered to herself, finding comfort in her native French.

She looked up at Cynthia, grabbing a tissue to wipe away her tears. "Thank you, for letting me say all of that. You Hunter's are something special," she said with a smile.

1.	Nothing makes sense anymore.

Cynthia wiped one tear away from the model's face. "It's alright, darling. We'll get through this. No one wants to attack someone in front Muggles. That's why we live here. It's safe. And you're safe. And Mark's safe. Everyone's safe, okay?" She pulled her into another hug, and kissed her lightly on the top of her head, and smiled. "Everything's okay, okay?"

"Now, what is he not telling me about his job?"

"I don't know," Julie said, now at ease and ready to tell Cynthia just about anything.

"Well, it's illegal for starters." She said bluntly, "Or at least, I think it's illegal. I don't know, he turned my bathtub pink and he stained part of the sink blue. That was not funny. Not in the least."

"But I yelled at him, so he doesn't do it in the bathtub anymore. He does it somewhere else, I don't know where. I didn't ask, and I'm not sure I really want to." Julie said, probably saying too much.

Illegal. Illegal potion making. So that was what Mark was doing with his life. "Ah, okay, that makes sense." She said. If anyone could do crime it would be Mark. and he'd be very good at it. Well, it seemed like he was found out by someone. Someone who wanted him out of the picture. Great. This was exactly what Cynthia wanted to take on.

"Alright Honey, all my questions are answered. Now, go visit with everyone. Dinner will be ready in 10." She said with a nudge of her head towards the living room. "And if you can, find Jane a good boyfriend." She winked, then turned back to her soup.

Julie nodded, turning around and rushing off to the living room. She totally messed up. She shouldn't have told Mark's mom. She was a TATTLETALE!

She tried to smile as she walked back into the living room, noting that the eleven year olds had disappeared and the room was considerably quieter. Jules sat back down next to Mark, resting her head on his shoulder. He'd understand why she told his mom. Cynthia was persuasive.

He'd understand, right?