The pepper-haired woman squinted down at the eleven-year-old with as much dislike as the girl was staring back up at her grandmother with. “The only Ravenclaw in our family…Slytherins for generations…always…knew…you’d be….the trouble one.”

Elliot merely snorted and glared. “And I always knew you’d die one day, of old age, of course, but you don’t see me parading that information around, do you?”

Hera Morganzo, grey eyes flaring, let a locket fall onto Elliot’s lap. “The glory of our family is in your hands, Elliot Mitchell. Don’t disappoint.”

Elliot picked up the locket…Morganzo….and ran her thumb over the sparkling letters.