Crooked

➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

The rescue team, including Emmeline and Trouble, found the Big Baron unconscious on the floor with the cell doors open. That was, of course, after they barged open the locked door of the basement.

"I told you someone was going to open the door eventually," Dorcas announced.

"Still was ready to escape from the window," Lily shrugged, getting down from the wall.

"Well, since we saved you, there's a catch, of course."

"When has there never been a catch with the Wolves," Lily glared.

"Get the Big Baron and put him in one of our cells. I want to take his hands while he's awake and then kill him," Emmeline spoke. "As for your deal, Tro, don't have fun."

"You're helping us with the deal, Tro." 

The memory replayed in Petunia Evans's head as they sat in the cells. It has been a while since they saw the Big Baron being dragged out of the cell beside them. The moment he woke up, he was dragged away for whatever punishment Emmeline Vance had planned for him. 

They mostly sat in their cell in silence. It was a tad hot and they didn't have anything to say while stuck in this moldy, tight cell. 

Eventually, the leader came along. 

"The Baron's dead if you're worried about that." 

"I think we're more curious than worried," Dorcas spoke, playing with the ends of one of her corn roses. "Especially about the fact that we're locked up in cells when we didn't do anything against you." 

"Just procedures to make sure you don't run away," Trouble grabbed a stool and sat in front of them, the cell door a barrier between the two sides. "Procedures so you can hear the deal without trying to kill me." 

"A cell door won't stop me, Trouble," Lily glared at him. 

"Keep your hate aside for a while, Red, and listen to the eye-for-an-eye I've got for you." 

"Lord help us," Dorcas pushed her head back, her eyes closed. 

"As you know, this Royal Ball is approaching. The first one is always known to allow the people of the country to enter, but most people are too nervous to go. Especially when we rarely have the money to go in such elegance as the Royals."

"What's your point?" 

"I think you would have gotten my point by now, princess."

"What would either of us gain if we went?" Petunia spoke, understanding the mission Trouble Vance wanted to send them on. "Neither of us would advantage anything." 

"We'll gain more than you think, little seer. We have plans that you cannot know for now. It's for your own good. Your mission is to go into the castle, dressed in all finery, and get to see how it looks from the inside." 

"Why not send yourself? Or one of your other more trusted wolves?"

"Because they'll appear suspicious, so will I. Plus, you cannot send the chaotic leader into a room full of posh royals."

"And why send in four random girls?"

"Because you know how to act. I could send Emmeline, but she might let her anger get in the way. Even though you have a feisty redhead in your group, you know how to keep her on a leash. You'll know how to exactly show me the inside of the castle, maybe even your little seer can bring out a new power and send in images in my brain." 

"You're losing us, and I'm losing my control," Lily warned. 

"I'll admit, you don't have a choice in the matter. That'll be your one ticket out of these cells. Your call, ladies." 

• • • • • • •

"Euphemia, there is nothing to worry about," her husband tried to tell her. 

"There is every single detail to worry about. Everyone will see how Gryffindor copes with being the host; everything has to be just right!" 

"Dear, everything you do is always right." 

"That does not help, Fleamont Charles Potter!" 

"What's all the screaming on about?" James Potter interrupted, moving down the stairs faster than usual. "Why's Dad's full name being brought out and why is Grannie laughing over there in the corner." 

"I'm simply enjoying a cup of tea while watching your parents fight," Dorea Potter raised her cup. "Come bring some biscuits and join me, Jamie." 

"Why are they even fighting in the first place?" he asked, moving toward his grandmother and taking the seat across from her. They were sitting around one of the round tables that were placed on the side of the hall for the ball. 

"Get your ass up and come help your mother!" Euphemia turned her stress onto her son. 

"I should have stayed with the Marauders," James muttered under his breath. "Now all the blame is going to come to me!" 

"Maybe you'll work better to calm your mother's nerves," his father switched places with him, taking the seat across from his mother Dorea. 

"Mother dearest," James tried his sweetest voice. 

"You'll work until you drop and then you'll engage with everyone at the ball later tonight whether you like it or not." 

"As if I have a choice," James shrugged. "Let me take care of that." 

"See, Fleamont, this is how you ought to be." 

"James, drop the vase. You're making me look bad!" 

James acted like he was going to drop the vase, but caught it right on time. That made Dorea Potter laugh the greatest of laughs, especially after Euphemia kept chiding her son. 

• • • • • • •

"Are we really going to take up the offer?" 

"It is our only way out, isn't it?" 

"It is," Emmeline Vance came into the cells, multiple people behind her carrying dresses. "We're going to treat you and let you pick out whatever outfit you like. Of course, I think Chiara would look best in blue and Lily best in green. Petunia could do a turquoise or pink shade, while Dorcas would rock some bright yellow or orange color."

"Didn't know you were so into fashion, Emmie," Dorcas teased.

"The one with power must look like she has power. That's the first trick into fooling the people." 

The four girls shared looks with one another, a silent agreement passing through them. 

"We'll do it." 

"Good," Emmeline grinned. "Because it's Ball night, ladies, and we're on a schedule." 

• • • • • • •

We're on a schedule. Great words Emmeline.

Until next time, folks!