Gregory knew that it was the right move leaving his wife all those years back, as it had brought him to the group that was the only thing keeping him sane. Knowing that they would soon be getting their revenge on the Wizarding world wad enough for him to get by with what little he had. He was living in Knockturn Alley for Merlin’s sake—that was just bloody unacceptable. Granted, he found those shops incredibly useful, clearly, but it was an absolute shithole to live in. He really couldn’t bloody wait for them all to return to their former glory, and taking down everyone who stood in their way. But that brought him to a problem—he had left his daughter behind with the bitch, and that was something that he did regret. Who bloody knew what the woman was teaching her, especially with her new ridiculous husband? He’d been keeping a close eye on the situation recently, and he wasn’t bloody happy. It was because of that that he’d begun to write Cecilia letters, not that he’d gotten a reply back. But he was convinced that he would eventually, and he knew that Miles wanted all the new recruits that they could get. Perhaps hearing from their leader would work better, he mused… but first, they would have to get the bitch out of the way. If she was poisoning Cecilia’s mind against them, then they would never be successful.

He did love the bint once, or as close to it as he was capable of, but that time was long in the past. Of course, he wasn’t going to hurt her to get his way—he wasn’t so low as to hurt the mother of his child, but he hoped that a conversation would be enough to sway her. If not that, then perhaps some threats would do the trick. He really didn’t care, as he would simply start with the conversation and go from there.

Normally, he didn’t venture into Diagon Alley much, as he wanted to avoid killing people at the current time—and the looks that he got were enough to bring him to murder. But he knew that he’d find Oriana here somewhere. Surely enough, he was passing the teashop and noticed a familiar face. Of course she would be in this ridiculous bloody place, he thought, irritated, as he pulled open the door. Gregory was surprised that she was alone, but that worked well for him at the current time, “Oriana,” he stated, smoothly, taking a seat at her table without waiting for an invitation that he would surely not receive. Gregory hadn’t seen his ex-wife since he’d left her, and apparently her rich, new husband was doing her some good, “You look good,” Gregory added, offhandedly, deciding to wait to be rude until he gauged her reaction.

@oriana

For once, Oriana had stayed behind after the group left, wanting just a bit of time to finish another cup of tea and to gather her thoughts a bit. Trying to be the perfect woman was timely and rather difficult, always feeling as if she were failing Klaus somehow. She had failed at keeping her first family together, and she worried daily that she was failing at keeping her current family together. Her first love, Gregory, seemed to want to rush out on their family, sticking up for some cause that was bound to fail. Of course, she abhorred the treatment of death eaters and their family, but she was certain she’d always hold a bit of love for Gregory, wanting only the best for him. He had been a good husband when she ran into him the first time, and ever since he started joining that little group, he seemed to change. Or perhaps she had been blind too long and was just finally opening her eyes.

And now, the wedge between her and Cecilia only seemed to be increasing in size, making them more strangers to each other. And now, she had a son, which was different in that regard. There had simply been too many changes lately that Oriana just needed a breather. A part of her was concerned for Gregory’s safety but an even larger part of her hadn’t a clue why they thought the way they had. It wasn’t that she fully supported the other side, finding that to be quite difficult, as well. She simply hadn’t wanted the war to occur again, she knew, as that would be far too difficult to watch.

Upon hearing her name from a too familiar voice, Oriana’s eyes glanced up, swallowing slightly. She really hadn’t expected to see her ex-husband, having not seen him for many, many months. “Gregory,” she smiled slightly, unsure about what she was supposed to do in this situation. Was she supposed to hug him? None of the solutions seemed to accurately fit. “Thank you,” she answered politely, remembering that a good woman would keep her responses short and to the point. “How are you?” she continued in the conversation, wondering how long it would be before he would get to what it was he wanted.

Remaining with his wife and child all those years when his anger was festering over the treatment of Death Eaters had not been easy. He had done it, with a strained relationship with Oriana for the most part, but it got to the point that he couldn’t do it anymore. Hearing about that Miles was getting the Death Eaters back together to plan a rebellion had been the last push he needed to leave her. Looking at her now, sitting in a damn teashop, probably fresh out of book club or something ridiculous like that, Gregory was content with the decisions he had made that led him to this point. Oriana had always followed the money, after all, which he hadn’t been able to provide much of. Hell, she probably wouldn’t even store her damn shoes in his current apartment. Pushing back the lingering thoughts of resentment of his life being the damn shadow of what it once was, Gregory leaned back in his chair, placing his ankle on the opposite knee. He wondered if she would be made uncomfortable the more casual he acted, and he found himself amused by the thought. It was already incredibly clear that she was nervous.

Her short responses were a bit different, which was almost interesting to him. Perhaps her new husband had taught her the lesson of bints being seen and not heard, he mused, not caring too much about the answer one way or the other. However, if he was passing those lessons on to Cecilia, that was going to be a problem. Of course, a witch had to know her place, especially one working for Brant, but Gregory couldn’t have the Norwegian prat teaching his daughter shit. She needed to be opinionated—opinionated about getting revenge and retaking their rightful place in charge. Cecilia might not be a pureblood, but she had good blood—Goyle blood, and Oriana was a Greengrass truly. Cecilia needed to recognize that their mission was the right one, and join them in it, “Well enough,” he replied, wondering if he should continue to amuse himself by making her uncomfortable, or if he should get to the point, “You? You look well taken care of,” Gregory noted, his eyes flickering over her briefly, “I take it I’m to assume my daughter is just as taken care of?” Gregory didn’t trust that Norwegian fucker at all, and he barely knew anything about him… yet. But perhaps it was worth getting some information.

It hadn’t been all that easy to have been the wife of Gregory. Though they had conceived on a one-night stand, she really had liked him quite a lot and had only grown in love with him as the time went on. Though she was never as angry as she was, she did agree with him on his stance about blood purity. How could she not? In her mind, purebloods held the most magic, and were capable of being the best witches and wizards of their kind, even if she were a halfblood. She had always wished she had been a pureblood, but there was nothing to be done with that. It was to her great relief that she wasn’t a simple muggle-born. That would have certainly been embarrassing. However, as time went on, her relationship with Gregory had become more strained as he became more agitated by their poor treatment, becoming someone she no longer knew. Still, she loved the Gregory that he used to be, though his rash changes were simply difficult to understand. This Gregory, seeing him here as he was, she could see a difference. He looked…better, she noted. Happier, certainly. Perhaps this really was what was better for him, she thought to herself briefly.

Oriana wanted to ask how things were with Miles, though they weren’t exactly in a place that would allow that conversation to happen easily with all of the potential listening ears that were looking for any reason to bring hell on any individual. The blonde simply nodded in response to his statement, a slight smile appearing on her features. “She is. She misses her father, though,” Oriana said, her eyes flashing briefly. Even if she thought Cecilia was misbehaved, it was horrible to have her father having left her in the way that he had. Still, she found herself a bit bitter about how he had left, believing that he owed their daughter an explanation of his decision.

Gregory really wished that it hadn’t come to this. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if Cecilia would actually write him back, instead of ignoring him. If it was the summer, he could have sought her out herself, but this couldn’t wait until the summer. She’d still be at Hogwarts for a while longer, and writing letters was the only option available to him. Of course, her ignoring them was a problem he hadn’t at all anticipated. He’d realized she would probably still be a bit upset with him for leaving, but that was years ago. Surely she was old enough now to realize he’d only done what had to be done, and now he wanted to help her by bringing her into the group that would be victorious once again. Her not coming with him now was not an option, not wanting to know what would happen to her if war were to break out again. Clearly, she was only safe with him, as Oriana and her stupid bloody foreigner wouldn’t be able to prevent something bad from happening. All Gregory needed to get out of this conversation was information that helped him to realize if they were poisoning his daughter’s mind against him and his cause. If the Norwegian was doing that, then Greg would have to hold himself back from killing the ponce to prove a damn point.

“I hope you’re not letting him teach her any of that Norwegian pureblood bullshit,” he added, raising an eyebrow. Everyone from that country was a fucker, as far as he was concerned, and if the man was trying to marry his daughter off to some other Norwegian ponce, they were going to have a serious problem. But from the looks of Oriana, he was just the type to do just that. It was clear enough to Gregory that the man had taught Oriana her proper place as a wife of an elite pureblood, but Cecilia was going to have so much more than that if he had anything to say about it. He scoffed slightly at the brief flash of anger that moved through his ex-wife’s eyes. Yes, he supposed she was probably still a bit put out about him up and leaving her, but he really didn’t feel too bad about that. He only cared about getting back in touch with Cecilia before this rebellion of theirs really did get started, “Does she?” He asked, not quite believing the answer. Gregory would hope that she bloody missed him, but her not replying to his letters hardly brought about that conclusion, “Somehow I doubt that.” Gregory added, not yet wanting to bring up the fact that he’d been writing her.

Oriana had been upset when she had found out that Gregory had left her and Cecilia. Even more so, she had been upset that she would have to be the one to inform their daughter of her husband’s decision to join a side of the war. The treatment of Death Eaters and their families was simply dehumanizing and unfair. Of course, she sided with the concept that Muggles were simply unworthy to be in use of their precious magic, people like that old goon Dumbledore and their deathly obsession with people who were disgusting. Though, she also wasn’t about to get involved directly, needing to keep up appearances for precautionary measures. Even with her viewpoints, she had regretted the moment that Gregory had left their family, resenting the fact that he thought that abandoning his family was the answer. She had loved him and it was a long road to get over him, but now she had remarried and was content. It was slightly frustrating, and overwhelming even, that he had returned out of the blue.

“He couldn’t even if he tried,” Oriana replied, giving him a look. He knew their daughter was one stubborn child, probably getting it from both sides of the family. Even if Klaus was trying to impose his belief on their daughter, it really was none of Gregory’s concern anymore. He stepped out of their lives years ago, making it very clear where his priorities were. Klaus had every right to train their daughter in the way that they wanted her to go because he was now Cecilia’s father. He questioned her statement, which she had been glad about. He deserved to bloody wonder, the tosser. “What do you want, Gregory?” Oriana asked bluntly, not wanting to stay here any longer than necessary.

When Gregory had first heard that Oriana had gotten remarried to a Norwegian pureblood, he had wondered if the man was someone who would be useful to regret. Any pureblood was worthy of their cause, except for blood traitors—though there were far less of those nowadays with all of this discrimination against them all, but he clearly wasn’t that in any case. However, from what he’d heard about the ponce, he wasn’t someone that they would ever want involved. Mostly, he just seemed like a giant prick, and Gregory didn’t want to have to deal with the fucker any more than he had to. He just wanted to get his daughter involved and away from whatever the hell was going on in that house. After all, he certainly wouldn’t want to know what could happen to her if he didn’t keep her on his side of this rebellion.

He scoffed slightly, knowing that the statement was true enough. Luckily, she got the Goyle stubbornness, which meant it wouldn’t be easy for that ponce to try to turn her into whatever the hell he wanted her to be. That was reassuring, he supposed, but really, Gregory still wanted her to be out of the situation, “Thank Merlin for that,” he muttered, though he was sure it wasn’t for lack of trying. Damn Norwegians, he thought, wondering if the ponce’s son was just as irritating. Hell, if he had known that this prick was whom his ex-wife was going to marry, he might have considered not leaving her at the time he did. Or, more likely, it would have been a better idea to take Cecilia with him. That would have solved all of his problems, as she’d be well immersed into the rebellion by now. He’d get her involved, though, knowing that he didn’t see another way. Gregory chuckled under his breath as Oriana apparently decided to stop with the small talk, which was more than likely against the rules and manners she’d been taught by her husband, “I’ve been out of Cecilia’s life for too long. She hasn’t been replying to my letters,” Gregory replied, raising an eyebrow at her, “If you or your husband have been poisoning her mind against me, we’re going to have a problem.”

The bloke that she had fallen in love with many years ago was certainly gone, she realized, paying close mind to the conversation. He had never been one to be smooth around the edges, but now, he was just being rather harsh in his speech, throwing her slightly off. She supposed that her many years in the Slytherin house as well as being around those of like mind that she would understand and be used to this, but she still wasn’t. However, she continued to bite her tongue in the situation, being the obedient woman that she was learning to be. She had failed one husband; she wasn’t going to fail her second, embarrassing him because of her behavior.

Oriana wasn’t blind to the things that were occurring around them. Everyone needed to choose a side and that meant their daughter, as well. Because of her status, her daughter would be needing to choose a side. With her parents being pro purebloods and her father being who he was, their daughter was at risk. Oriana knew that the only safe side for Cecilia was to choose Gregory’s side, but she had almost hoped that the war would be over before it began, protecting her daughter from that. It was not a woman’s place to get involved in such nonsense, though Oriana was hopeful to get her married off to a dashing young lad that had pure blood, not dishonoring his magic. Of course, getting Cecilia to believe this was frustrating, especially since she had been dating that poor excuse for a man, young Mr. Rudolphi. The bloke wasn’t even pure, which was enough of a reason for Oriana to dislike him. Young love was so incredibly blind.

The corner of Oriana’s lips twitched slightly in response, slightly humored by his response. “Your letters to our daughter is news to me so perhaps she hasn’t written because she doesn’t know you,” the blonde replied, shrugging slightly. She bit her tongue at his next statement, not liking his implication on her or her husband. She could recognize a threat when she heard one, especially from her ex-husband. “The only one poisoning her against you, Gregory, is yourself for when you left without a word.”

There had been a very brief time after the final battle where Gregory had nothing to do but just be bloody angry all of the time. It seemed that any hope of the Death Eaters regaining what they were so close to obtaining was long gone. Without that, he had just been pissed off about the situation he found himself in, even if his punishment for his supposed crimes was quite mild compared to others that he had known. But that punishment was nothing compared to just the treatment of anyone with a Dark Mark nowadays. The mark was something that he would always be proud of, regardless of what bloody anyone thought, and now he had a purpose back as well. Brant would be victorious, even if even Gregory thought his ideals were a bit extreme. Greg was all for exterminating the Mudblood scum that littering their world, but he found himself surprised by Brant’s hatred of halfbloods as well. Yes, they were less pure, and he would always look down at them for that. But wanting to kill all of them as well seemed a little ridiculous when three fourths of their damn world were halfblooded at this point. It was a price they had to pay, but he didn’t think that their world would last long with just purebloods—that was just an annoying fact. Their lines were already rather close, and the risks of producing squibs from that was high. As long as the current halfbloods started focusing on keeping their line within other halfbloods, then that was better than nothing as far as Greg was concerned.

He was sure that the man would just consider him bias since his daughter was a halfblood, but even Greg was logical enough to put that together. They needed halfbloods. They didn’t need that Mudblood scum, but halfbloods were necessary for the continued survival of the Wizarding world. It didn’t mean he bloody liked it, but it certainly didn’t make it less true. Gregory could tell that Oriana was deep in thought, as he annoyingly knew enough about her to notice the signs. She was probably thinking about her ridiculous husband and their ridiculous plans for his daughter—ones that would not be coming to fruition if he had any say in the matter, and he did. Whatever ridiculous ideas Oriana had for Cecilia, he would not allow her or her Norwegian ponce husband to ship her off to Norway to some other Norwegian prick. Hell, Gregory would kill Arnesen before he let that happen. “Well she’s bright enough to not tell you anything of importance, then,” he said, nodding slightly. He was glad that Cecilia hadn’t told her mother about the letters, as it proved to him that she wasn’t particularly close to the woman either. That would make this all the more easy for him. But it would take time… luckily, he had learned patience, knowing that it would eventually reap him rewards, “And can’t I try to make up for that?” Gregory said, raising an eyebrow at her. Of course, that wasn’t his mission in the slightest—or at least, not much. He felt bad and would make up for that by giving her the entire damn world once they were finally ruling it, “How has she been?” He asked, nonchalantly, wondering if his ex-wife would give him any details about what she had been doing.

This was frustrating. He was frustrating. He was always frustrating. Sometimes, she wasn’t even certain how they ever did get together, before remembering it was a bloody one night stand. She loved their daughter, most certainly, but the father of her child was miserable. He hadn’t acted like a father in the slightest, abandoning the family for some ridiculous cause that was probably going to fail anyways. Of course, Miles was trying to play it off as some non-violent organization, but no one was actually stupid enough to believe that. Death Eaters were crawling to him, willing to do his will to cleanse this world of its filth. Still, that was no place for her daughter. Far too many people lost their lives last time; believing in one cause was completely different than actually blindly acting on it, sacrificing one’s life for it.

This conversation needed to end soon, she realized. She was expected home to take care of some things before the men arrived home. If she got held up talking to her ex about who knows what, Klaus would be certainly less than pleased. Oriana knew better than to roll her eyes in public, but she certainly wanted to. He was trying too hard, for whatever reason that was. “That, or she’s bright enough to know talking about unimportant matters is a waste of everyone’s time,” she countered, smiling brightly as people walked past. She still had to keep up appearances, of course, no matter how unpleasant the conversation. “You can try over the summer when she comes home. If she doesn’t want to respond to your letters, I can’t help you there,” she answered stubbornly.