For those who want to know what I have been up to since my last update, keep reading the next bolded paragraphs. Skip this AN if you're not interested.

I know this is gonna sound like I'm making excuses for not updating, but I think you guys deserve some kind of explanation for my unintended hiatus. For starters, Chapter 5 was originally supposed to be posted around, like, Spring Break… but a lot of stuff happened these recent months that delayed my chapter releases...

I graduated from my university, am currently job hunting and getting my life together, had gotten into a car accident a while back, and on top of that, my grandmother died several weeks ago. Needless to say, real life has kept me very busy.

Chapter 6: Runaway VI

During what should've been Harry Potter's Sixth Year, Voldemort's Death Eaters attacked Hogwarts, taking advantage of a Hogsmeade weekend to kidnap as many of the students as possible before quickly Apparating away. What was odd about the attack was that the Death Eaters didn't just target Muggleborns and Blood Traitors like most people assumed they would. Upon investigating which of the students never came back from their trip to Hogsmeade, the Aurors found that there were also Purebloods among the thirteen kidnapped victims.

A week later, all thirteen missing students were found unconscious in the middle of Little Hangleton Graveyard, but none of the Death Eaters were there. Save for some slight dehydration and malnourishment from their time as prisoners, the children seemed to be relatively fine. Upon closer inspection, however, the Healers discovered that each child had a mysterious Rune sloppily branded somewhere on their bodies. And what was worse was that the Runes seemed to be draining their Magical Core and funneling the collected Magic elsewhere. If left alone, the children's Magical Cores would eventually be sucked dry, ultimately causing their deaths.

A team of Curse-Breakers were immediately called in to resolve the issue, but all they could do was identify that the Rune served as part of an unknown Dark Ritual. The situation was beyond the skills of St. Mungo's top team of Healers and the best team of Curse-Breakers the Ministry had to offer. One desperate family even tried to remove the Rune by attempting to carve it out of their child's skin, but the brand stubbornly remained. Without a Counter-Curse or some way to dissolve the children's link to the Ritual, their fates were sealed.

Before long, news of the cursed students, newly dubbed as "Bloodless" by Rita Skeeter, rapidly spread all throughout Europe.

Families of the children were already mourning their fates. Some even outright disowned their afflicted sons and daughters, abandoning them to die alone in their hospital beds. Others were in complete denial, refusing to believe in anything other than that a cure just hadn't been discovered yet. Experimental Potions to dubious Spells and Healing Rituals were applied. In many cases, it only worsened their conditions to the point that death would have been a welcomed mercy.

Yet, no matter what they did, there was no delaying the inevitable.

Shortly after the next school year started, fifteen-year-old Romilda Vane, a Halfblood in Gryffindor, succumbed to the Bloodless Curse. She was the first of her fellow victims, as well as the first of many, to die by the hands of Voldemort.

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"Luna, how are you holding up?" Neville timidly asked the girl as he held up a mirror for her.

While Luna was busy fussing over her brittle hair, her boyfriend took the opportunity to closely examine her. The young Witch looked worse than she did yesterday. Her skin was so pale it was practically translucent. Her frame was emaciated to the point of being almost skeletal, and occasionally, Neville caught a glimpse of a milky film over her eyes. All in all, it was doubtful Luna would last past the end of the year.

Not that Neville or any of the other afflicted looked any better. As more of the Bloodless's Magical Cores were being emptied of Magic, the Curse turned to attacking their physical bodies. Severe weight loss was usually the first sign, and for those not as lucky as Luna, hair loss also came hand in hand as the lack of Magic prevented their wasting bodies from absorbing sufficient amount of nutrients. Their senses would also degrade until organ failure finally took its toll on the patient. At that point, no amount of Healing or Potions could help other than to make their final moments easier to bear.

The ditzy-looking girl turned to look at him with glazed eyes. "Hmm… oh dear, your Wrackspurts are increasing, Nev. Do you think this suits me?" Her long blonde hair was carefully separated into two pieces that was arranged and tied together at the back of her head to create a pair of long loops that extended a few inches upwards from the top of her head.

The boy smiled, knowing she was attempting to keep his mind off of her well-being. Before Neville could compliment her, Draco interrupted their conversation as he came down the stairs.

"You look like a half-eaten rabbit." He retorted without much heat. The teen thought the arrangement gave her an illusionary air of having bunny ears.

Luna's silvery-blue eyes took on a happy gleam. "Thanks, Draco! Rabbits are my favourite animals~!"

"I have not given you leave to use my given name," he snapped at the eccentric girl.

"Now, now. We're all friends here," Fred announced as he stumbled into the living room on crutches.

"Besides, how many times have we told you that we're all on a first name basis in this house?" George chimed in, throwing his arm over Draco's shoulders and leaned his full weight on the younger boy.

Both Neville and Luna lit up upon seeing the familiar mischievous smirks of Fred and George.

Draco scoffed, ignoring the arm around his shoulders. "A few months ago, I hexed your brother from behind during Potions, sending him to the Hospital Wing for several days. On top of which, I called your sister a whore not a week later. Those are but two examples of the wretched treatment I've given you Weasleys. And that's not getting into the times I've tried to destroy your older brothers' reputations, nearly sabotaging Percival's ability to get into the Ministry. You cannot possibly see me as an ally, let alone a friend, after everything I've done."

"If I remember correctly, Ginny performed a beautiful flying kick to the bollocks for that, so consider us even after that."

"As for what you tried to do to Bill, Charlie, and Percy… no actual harm came of what you did, so we can pretend that never happened."

"Doesn't stop us from being amused though," Neville piped up while snickering. "I mean, really? Mummy-fucker? That pun hurts me more than the Cruciatus Curse."

"Bill wanted us to thank you for that, by the way. He's been driving his coworkers nuts with it."

"Is it too late for me to take him to court for plagiarism?" Draco said sarcastically, leaning over towards Fred and snatching his electric-green bandana from his head, causing George's arm to slip from around his shoulders.

"And the bit about Charlie being a dragon lover in more ways than one… Mind if we borrow that for the next time we see him?" George said, snatching the piece of fabric from Draco and keeping it out of reach from his brother.

"As for Percy, I highly doubt he cares. He's been so busy with his shiny new job as Fudge's secretary that we're pretty sure he's forgotten all about it," Fred informed as he took back his bandana from Neville after George had passed it to him.

"You also get a bye for what you did to Ron. After what he's been saying to us, we're a little less... sympathetic towards him nowadays," George concluded.

"Speaking of, how are your family doing? Have Ron and Ginny come around yet?" Luna asked

Instantly, both their faces fell. Even Fred paused in readjusting his bandana. "No comment," they quietly responded in unison. Evidently, things hadn't gone well during their visit to the Burrow.

After the twins were diagnosed by the Healers and Curse-Breakers, the family needed to decide what they should do with them. Fred and George couldn't continue their education, nor could Arthur and Molly afford to keep them in St. Mungo's for further treatments than what was absolutely necessary. The Curse forced the members of the Weasley clan to take sides on the matter. In the end, it was decided that they were to remain far away from the now unwelcome atmosphere of the Weasley home. Instead of abandoning Fred and George at St. Mungo's like some of their fellow Bloodless had been, Bill and Charlie stepped up to help their younger brothers and sought sanctuary from Sirius.

Before long, they were joined by Severus, who brought with him his newly disowned godson, Xenophilius, whose daughter led him to a nearby park where Remus had stumbled upon them, and finally Neville, who had mustered up the courage to run away after having enough of his grandmother's increasingly toxic behavior towards him.

The first week was tense for all of them, mostly due to Draco being forced to live under the same roof as the people he had bad-mouthed/bullied back in Hogwarts. That was until Fred and George made it so that the showerhead near the former-Malfoy heir's room spewed out buckets of Hair Removal Potions instead of water. On the bright side, it broke the ice between the teenagers. Now, Draco could reluctantly admit that he had grown to think of his fellow Bloodless as, quote: "questionable allies"(even if his newfound friendships came at the cost of all of his hair).

"So, Luna-love, when's your Dad's mysterious penpal coming here?" Fred asked the blonde-haired girl.

"You said there's a surprise for us." George pointed out.

"Right about now," The eccentric teen singsonged in reply.

Exactly on cue, the fireplace burst into green flames, indicating that someone was coming over by Floo. Given all the protective wards that Grimmauld Place had along with the Fidelius Charm, it was doubtful that the person coming through was an enemy. The first person to appear from the fireplace was a tall, beautiful woman with long, wavy brown hair, an olive complexion, and cold blue eyes. Despite her good looks, her predatory demeanor made her look every inch of a femme fatale. Following a few steps after her was a teenage boy around their age with richly tanned skin and thick dark hair. He was equally handsome in a more exotic fashion and his whole body language naturally displayed a self-assured confidence within himself.

"Zabini?!" Everyone cried out, recognizing the boy as one of their schoolmates with Draco being the most shocked, as he considered Blaise as one of his closest confidants.

Blaise Zabini's mother had something of a reputation in the British Wizarding World. Arachne Zabini had been married seven times in the past twenty years and widowed each time before the year was up. According to the unsavory rumors, Lady Zabini would marry her wealthy suitors for their fortunes before killing them off after she somehow got them to will everything they owned to her. However, no one could prove that the woman was the one responsible for their murders, so the cases were often deemed accidental, suicides, or simply death by natural causes.

"Already?! I thought you were coming at five, Slender Legs?" Sirius called out as he entered the living room, having heard the mother and son coming through the Floo Network.

"It's already five in the afternoon, Padfoot," Remus replied with exasperation as he followed after his friend.

Arachne rolled her eyes at Sirius. "And here I thought you'd think more with your upper head than your lower one as you aged. But I guess I was proven wrong. I'm an engaged woman, you know."

"Hey, can't blame a man for wanting to have another go once he's had a taste of paradise and lived to tell the tale about it. Besides, we both know it's only a matter of time before you're available again, eh Black Widow?" Sirius replied with a suggestive waggle of his brow.

The woman's son then let out an angry growl at the man. "Can we get on with this meeting? I have better things to do than watch you flirt with mia Madre!" He complained loudly.

"Blaise, behave! Remember, mio figlio, we are guests in Signore Black's house." The youthful-looking mother scolded him with a stern look as she gracefully took a seat on one of the available chairs in the living room.

The young man immediately flushed in embarrassment and murmured, "Mi dispiace, Signore Black."

Remus reached into his pocket after a slight pause and pulled out a worn out book. "Moving on to the matter at hand." He laid it down onto the table in front of the woman and her son and asked, "Soulfire Magic. What can you tell us about it?"

Arachne merely took a single, passing glance at the ancient tome and promptly dismissed the book, "From what Xenophilius Lovegood had described, they seem to coincide with Dying Will Flames, which I must emphasize, is the more modern term for it."

"Dying Will Flames? That sounds pretty ominous." George casually commented.

Luna simply hummed in thought. "Oh, I don't know. I think there's a certain charm to the words. One last burst of strength in one's last moments before the fires of life are snuffed out. I think it's more intimidating than ominous."

The Black Widow spared the girl a quick look of approval for her impressively accurate description before continuing. "After reading through that book, I can safely conclude that much of the information describes Dying Will Flames perfectly, even if the contents are a bit... outdated," Arachne said, emphasizing the last word with no small amount of distaste.

Remus frowned. "Outdated? How much of it is outdated?"

"Try every chapter," Blaise said dryly before being silenced by Arachne's disapproving glare for speaking out of turn.

"Unfortunately, mio figlio is correct. First, a person's Soul Shade or Flame type isn't as restrictive as the author made them out to be. It's possible to possess more than one, especially if you're going through dramatic changes in your life. While you may be born with one Element, you may develop a secondary Element depending on how you were raised, how your personality developed, or even the Flame type of your parents, grandparents, and so on.

"Second, the book only describes the Dying Will Flames of the Sky, or perhaps what I could surmise as a more underdeveloped version of it during those times. There are no mentions of other mutations such as Earth Flames, Night Flames, Snow Flames, or Wrath Flames. It's been theorized that these mutations are fairly recent. Dying Will Flames may have existed since the beginning of human history, but it was only in the last few hundred years or so that the aforementioned Flame mutations that I had spoken of had made their appearance.

"And last but not least, there is no limit to how many Guardians a Sky can take on. Multiple sets of Guardians are uncommon, but not impossible. In addition, they don't have to be restricted to the confines of the role they were given after Harmonization. My grandmother was once a Storm Guardian to the late Daniela di Vongola even though her primary Flame was Mist. But that didn't stop her from substituting herself as a stand-in as the Ottavo's Mist Guardian in a pinch, which came in handy as the Lady Ottavo never took on another Mist after the death of her first." The formal woman said, finally concluding her long explanation.

"Bloody hell, that was a lot of information!" Fred exclaimed, holding the sides of his head in confusion. He wasn't expecting to be given an entire lecture when he had signed up for this. His twin brother was in the same boat as he struggled to wrap his head around the new information.

"Hold on, there's one thing that's been bugging me. Soulfire is technically Muggle Magic, right? So… how do you know about all of this?" Neville chimed in with a hand raised, his voice full of suspicion.

This, Blaise could answer for them. "The Zabini Family has been connected to the Mafia World for centuries. We have existed as a sanctuary for magically-born Mafia children. At least once a generation, the Mafia would produce a single individual who was born with permanently Latent Dying Will Flames. Nine times out of ten, it's usually an indicator that they're a Witch or Wizard, especially if their Flames are too weak to become Active. Once they've been identified as a Witch or Wizard, they would be sent to the House of Zabini to be Blood-Adopted and raised in the Wizarding World."

"So then that means you two are actually…" Sirius trailed off, already knowing the answer to his question.

"Yes. My child may not have come from my body, but Blaise is still my son in all the ways that matter." The beautiful mother confirmed.

Arachne Zabini's mother had been a hitwoman who went by the moniker of "Siren Venom", specializing mostly in honeytrap assassinations. It was almost a shame that her daughter was born without her mother's infamously potent Rain Flames. However, Arachne's predecessor, Lord Zabini, a man who could trace his lineage all the way back to one Vongola Quinto's many illegitimate offspring, saw nothing wrong in allowing his Blood-Adopted heir to follow in on the Siren Venom's footsteps.

Arachne's own Blood-Adopted child, on the other hand, was born to a minor Famiglia who had been disappointed that one of their potential heirs would never become a Flame User in his lifetime, so Blaise was given to Arachne's care when he was still but a toddler. Given the Black Widow had a well-known habit of constantly changing husbands, it was easy to get people to automatically assume that her son was a product of one of her deceased conquests. A misunderstanding that worked well for the two of them.

"We may not ever be able to awaken our Dying Will Flames, but we do know enough to coach you on how to awaken yours. You should rejoice. I highly doubt there has ever been a case of a wizard being turned into a Flame User before… Assuming that any of you survive, that is," Arachne finished.

"So just to clarify… We have a possibility of not dying… A way into a world of organized crime… And we can basically flip the bird to all the sheeple in the Wizarding World if we succeed," George listed out before finally chirping, "So, my dear blokes and bird, what should we do once we get to Italy?" For the first time since Bill and Charlie got their brothers out of St. Mungo's, things were finally looking up.

"Open up a shop?" Draco suggested without much enthusiasm. "Lovegood could be a fortune teller or something, you two could sell your pranks, and Longbottom can finally make himself useful by taking advantage of his stupid green thumb."

"And what about you? What are you going to contribute to the table? I'll have you know we have no room for freeloaders in this household!" Luna declared with gusto.

"Potioneer. Failing that, I will become a Healer or something. If someone has to be the one to bail you lot out, it might as well be me," Draco replied without a beat before pointing out, "Also, by your argument, wouldn't we Bloodless be considered freeloaders seeing as we owe every second of our continued existence to the generosity of Black?"

Neville tapped the teen on the shoulder. "Hey, Malfoy, if the two of us survive, think we can partner up? I'll supply the ingredients and you make the Potions."

"When," Draco stresses. "It is when we survive, Longbottom. Talk to me again when the two of us are not on our deathbeds."

"You know, you can call us by our given names," the younger of the Weasley twins told him.

Draco clicked his tongue before giving George the barest hint of a smile. "I would rather not, if it's all the same to you."

Luna's smile took on a knowing glint. "I don't know about you boys, but I'm looking forward to seeing my King again," The sickly-looking girl said vaguely as she stared down at her empty trembling hands. She probably wouldn't have long for this world, but one way or another, she would be heading off to a different world soon enough. In her mind's eye, she could see yellow-tinted indigo fire dancing about her fingertips.

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Luna was the first one of them to die.

Neville had held her hand as she took her last breath, surrounded by her friends and weeping father. "I'll see you soon, everyone." Then Luna Lovegood closed her eyes one last time and let herself go.

A few days after her death, Xenophilius erected a headstone right beside his wife's grave in honor of his daughter. Her epitaph read, "Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect."

The next were Fred and George.

After visiting their family one last time for the holidays, the twins had died not two days after Christmas. George died first. Fred, as if not wanting to live another moment without his other half, followed not long after. Both brothers had died still laughing merrily like any other day despite having mere minutes left to live. They slipped away with peaceful smiles on their faces as though they had simply fallen asleep after tiring themselves out from a long day of swapping jokes with their parents and siblings. That day, the Burrow was filled with life and laughter and peaceful slumber through the night until the sound of Molly's mournful wail echoing throughout the Weasley household came the next morning. Ginny had handed her parents a letter from Remus stating that her older brothers had passed on upon their return to the Grimmauld Place.

Draco's death, however, was easily the most traumatic of all of them.

Not by the young Slytherin himself but for those who witnessed it. Tired of waiting for Death to come for him, Draco had decided to take matters into his own hands in the only way he was able to. Severus had been just seconds too late to stop his godson. After taking a fatal overdose of a potion he made using the final dregs of Magic still remaining in his Core, Draco Malfoy died quickly, but violently, in his godfather's arms. His parents didn't attend his funeral, but on his birthday, they were seen laying flowers on his lonely grave.

Much to the surprise of many, Neville lasted the longest out of all of them. Despite possessing the disgraceful nickname of "Squib of Gryffindor," he proved to be a far stronger Wizard than his relatives and peers than they had given him credit for. Out of all thirteen Bloodless, he was the last male and second to last of the Bloodless to die. Augusta's eulogy expressed disappointment in her grandson for not fulfilling the potential she believed he had possessed in life and an even bigger disappointment in herself for pushing Neville so far without realizing the damage her treatment had caused him.

Miles and miles away from England, a group of teenage friends opened up a shop in Sicily. Shortly after the Marauder's Den had its grand opening, dozens of Mafioso flocked to their modest store, and the demands for their services had continued to rise ever since.

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"What did you lot do this time?" Gargouille Serpens (Draco Malfoy) practically growled at his two friends/housemates.

"She enabled me?" Leimakid Hyades (Neville Longbottom) offered, pointing to the smug-faced blonde-haired girl hanging off of his arm.

Said blonde gave the fuming Potioneer a proud toothy grin. "We've done nothing you should be concerned about," Kaguya Tsukihime (Luna Lovegood) singsonged innocently.

"On the contrary, it is my concern," Gargouille gritted out. "Just look at this alley! How many bodies are there?!"

"Zero corpses and about fifty concussed Mafiosi grunts. I don't know the exact numbers. I lost count after twenty-three," Leimakid sheepishly admitted.

Gargouille had been out buying groceries and all but forced everyone to tag along with him (mostly because he didn't trust them alone for more than a few seconds without blowing up half the building… as they had already done twice before). The moment he turned his back for maybe five minutes to decide what type of meat they should have for tonight's dinner, the twins and the lovebirds went missing. When he finally managed to find some of them, Gargouille had found two of them in an alleyway surrounded by heaps of broken and bruised men in torn Armani suits.

"Dare I ask why you decided to take out an entire low-ranking Famiglia's worth of people?" Gargouille snarled lowly.

"They were harassing my lady love. Good thing I had My Little Friend with me. I was wondering when and how I was going to give this thing a test drive," Leimakid laughed as he hefted up his new weapon onto his shoulder.

"My Little Friend" (yes, Leimakid really did name it that) was a fourteen-inch, Flame-reinforced dildo bat his lover had gotten him for his birthday. How Kaguya was able to convince Talbot, the elderly antique dealer from the countryside, to forge that offense to human modesty Gargouille would never know. The monstrosity was not only rainbow-colored, it was also bedazzled enough to put a disco ball to shame. Kaguya specifically requested to make her fiancé's weapon to be as humiliating in design as humanly possible… for Leimakid's future bludgeoning victims, that is.

Oddly enough, Leimakid took a shine to it. Something about finally being able to knock some sense into certain kinds of people. (Gargouille did not like the look Leimakid gave him when he said that. He thanked his patron gods he wasn't My Little Friend's first blood offering.)

"To be fair, it was justifiable self-defense. Their Boss was planning on selling off my Leimakid to some Famiglia in Japan because of his Copper Aspect. I'd say he didn't do enough," Kaguya explained as she threaded her fingers in her fiancé's hair.

Gargouille let out an audible moan and buried his face into his hands. "Please, for the sake of my sanity, please tell me this won't come back and bite us in the arse sometime in the future."

"Fine, I won't tell you," Leimakid said.

"Oh, thank Mercury-"

"So... you know that order you spent a whole week on?" Leimakid interrupted the blond. "You might want to cancel that since the customer who ordered it is… well..." He trailed off as his gaze went towards one of the fallen Mafiosi hanging upside down from the fire escape. He was nude from the waist down and unconscious with his bare buttocks practically bloody and raw.

"I am seriously contemplating on poisoning your tea and then collecting your life insurance!" Gargouille snapped.

"I have life insurance?"

"Not yet, but when you do…"

"It's alright, Gary. We don't want to do business with someone like him anyways," Kaguya cooed as she reached over to pat the Potioneer on the shoulder.

"Shut up! Do not touch me," Gargouille snarled, roughly pushing the girl's hand off of his shoulder. "Better yet, don't call me Gary!"

"Ah, the sweet sound of an angry Gary. So what chaos have our favourite lovebirds been up to, and why didn't you invite us?" Eidolon Doppelgänger (George Weasley) and his brother, Vardøger Doppelgänger (Fred Weasley), strolled into the alleyway carrying a suspicious looking bag of supplies they had most likely bought from the nearby black market.

"Excuse me, but I am trying to not make good on my threat of making ceramic pottery out of Leimakid's bones without you two making everything worse!" Gargouille bellowed at the twins before coughing politely. "My name is Gargouille. Use it! Not Gary."

"Ah, alas poor Leimakid!" Eidolon wailed strongly enough to make an opera singer envious as Vardøger swooned dramatically against his brother. "So young before his time! How cruel of Gary to take him from us this way! On your behalf, we'll all pray to your patron goddess, Freyja, that your soul will rest in the heavenly meadows of Fólkvangr!"

Kaguya leaned into her fiancé's side and wiped away an imaginary tear. "Don't worry, dearest. I'll make sure to bring your favourite flowers to your grave every day."

"...But I'm not dead yet," Leimakid pouted.

"Don't weep for the stupid, you'll all die of dehydration at this rate," Gargouille deadpanned, all the fight he had earlier already leaving him. Why was he still living with these people? Oh right, because housing was cheaper with more people to pitch in to pay off the bills. "And stop calling me Gary!"

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"Luna Eris Lovegood! What have you fucking done?!" Gargouille roared as he burst into her room without even bothering to stop and knock first.

From her position on Leimakid's lap, she merely cocked her head at him curiously. "It's Kaguya, Gary." The blonde corrected him before scolding him, "Also, knock next time. What would your mother say if she knew you had a habit of carelessly storming into a lady's bedroom without so much as a 'May I?'"

Gargouille, for his credit, ignored her insinuations. "Fine! Kaguya Tsukihime, what have you fucking done?!" He repeated, "And how many times do I have to tell you to not! Call! Me! GARY?!"

"You're going to have to be specific, Gary dear. I've done a lot of things today."

"Me, especially," Leimakid added.

"This," the Potioneer hissed, shoving a flyer into the lovebirds' faces.

"Coming soon. The Annual Cooking Competition. Now being held at the newly constructed stadium near the Vongola Iron Fort. Invitation only," Leimakid read aloud for Kaguya's sake.

"Oh, now I remember," Kaguya realized. "The Annual Mafia Cooking Competition. I heard that the Vongola Famiglia is hosting it this year. I figured it would be fun if you entered as well."

"I do not care if you lot joined a BDSM occult club! Just leave me out of it!"

"But Gary~ We need you and your weird kitchen voodoo~" Vardøger crept up behind him and draped himself over the slightly shorter boy. Eidolon, on the other hand, dropped down and latched onto Gargouille's legs with all the grace of a koala on a eucalyptus tree in order to prevent Gargouille from escaping.

"The last time you needed my 'weird kitchen voodoo,' you let my cupcakes escape out into the streets and nearly brought the wrath of the Mafia Dementors upon our heads," he said glaring at the twins

Gargouille's "kitchen voodoo", as Eidolon had put it, was the result of an unusual family Curse for those who had inherited the Black Family Magicks (and that was a nightmare in and of itself to research and find out what was going on). The blond found out the hard way that he had gotten the full brunt of the Curse when he attempted to make cupcakes for the first time. Thank the Gods and Goddesses of fortune that they lived in the middle of Mafia territory. (The Mafiosi who encountered the cupcakes thought they were just a Mist working at first and ignored them… to their detriment.) If they pulled the same stunt in a civilian residential area, the Vindice would've snapped them up faster than they could say "Quidditch."

By the end of the day, Gargouille somehow took it as a personal challenge to figure out ways to get around his Curse, and with trial and error, he had succeeded (for the most part).

"How were we supposed to know that the cupcakes could combine into a cake?" Vardøger retorted.

"Actually, they didn't," Leimakid piped up, "Apparently, someone in the Varia pulled a prank, but the cake was the result of the whole thing gone wrong. It actually ate Gargouille's cupcakes."

"Before we get any further off topic! Kaguya, what possessed you to enter a cooking competition hosted by Soulfire-wielding criminals?!" Gargouille demanded.

The blond girl shrugged. "The Heliopaths told me to."

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"SIGNORS AND SIGNORIAS! WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL MAFIA COOKING COMPETITION! THIS YEAR, WE ARE HOSTED BY THE UNSTOPPABLE VONGOLA FAMIGLIA! EVERYONE PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR THE DON VONGOLA NONO HIMSELF!" The announcer roared into his microphone.

As Timeteo and his Guardians stepped onto the stage to take their place at the judges' table, the audience gave a polite round of applause. The stadium was packed with dozens of Famiglias from all over Italy. A good chunk of the audience also consisted of foreign Mafioso like the Russian Bratva and the Drug Cartels of Latin America.

The announcer then proceeded to name the contestants as they entered the arena. There was a total of fifty participants, discounting the people they brought with them. One of the major rules of the competition clearly specified that the contestants were allowed to bring any equipment or ingredients they would need to for the competition. Practically anything goes, from entire tanks to people. The only banned items were the ones set by the hosting Famiglia literally the day before the start of the tournament.

In the Don Vongola Nono's case, his only ban was drugs and humans as ingredients, but participants were allowed to bring people as their cooking assistants or bodyguards (so long as they were not used as their submission). A shared sentiment throughout the international community after one disastrous Cooking Competition some 150 years ago. (Let's just say the Vongola Terzo was not amused by one rival Famiglia, whose existence was quickly wiped from the face of the Earth after they thought they could make a power move by feeding him his recently murdered son's organs.)

"AND REPRESENTING THE VARIA, WE HAVE THE HEAD CHEF AND OWNER OF STUDIOSE, HADRIAN TEMPERANZA!" The announcer bellowed with enthusiasm.

The crowd practically gave the waving teen a standing ovation. Most of the Mafia Dons had eaten at his restaurant and gave glowing reviews about the eatery to their subordinates and allies alike. Expectations were high for the androgynous teen. The last time a Flame Cook on that level had taken the stage was close to twenty years ago where the Tainted Ambrosia Setta completely demolished her opponents without a shred of mercy.

"Bel, why are you wearing eyeshadow?" Hadrian said squinting at the other teen's face as they reached their assigned cooking station.

"Why not? By the way, does it look okay? Because the Prince has got to slay," Belphegor replied, said eyes never leaving the screen of his phone.

"Muu. No one can actually see your eyes. Who cares if your eyeliner is 'on point' as you kids call it," Mammon snarked.

"By the way, Bel, I've been meaning to ask. I've noticed that you've been using more and more slang since our first meeting. Why?"

"Muu. Safe to say, he likes you," Mammon informed.

"Okay, so what's with the weird title he keeps tossing around while trying to explain to me what memes are?"

"Ushishishishishishishishi," Belphegor giggled but made no move to explain himself.

"...Ever since I made the mistake of introducing him to the internet on his ninth birthday, he's been obsessed with meme culture. I assume the title he frequently uses while texting you is 'memelord.' I honestly have no idea where he got it from, but one day, he started referring to himself as that and never stopped. Just the other day, he even introduced himself to the new mooks as 'Prince Belphegor di Varia Tempesta, Grand Duke of the Costra Nosa Memedom.'"

Hadrian sighed, "...Guess I'll have to get used to all the funny cat pictures he keeps sending me every other hour. Last week, it was a just an angry and unhappy cat."

Belphegor grinned. "Grumpy Cat will be forever a classic. RIP Tardar Sauce, you will be missed."

"AND FINALLY, WE HAVE GARGOUILLE SERPENS OF MARAUDER'S DEN! DON'T UNDERESTIMATE HIM CONTESTANTS! HE MAY NOT BE AFFILIATED WITH ANY FAMIGLIA, BUT IF WHAT'S BEEN SAID ABOUT THEM IS TRUE, HE AND HIS FRIENDS ARE A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH!"

A blond haired young man sauntered out into the stadium flanked by two others around the same age. The oldest of the bunch had bright orange-red hair and was cheekily blowing kisses to the audience while the other, despite easily towering over both his friends, seemed to be trying his best to make himself seem smaller due to the overwhelming amount of attention making his social anxiety flare back up with a vengeance.

As Gargouille walked past the fellow contestants, he took the opportunity to scrutinize each and every one. One participant had an actual Komodo Dragon in a cage on his counter. Another station consisted of an all-women's group who sported tan skin, black masks, pink hair, and trendy clothes.

However, it wasn't until Vardøger caught sight of one particular contestant that he frantically signaled his friends to take a closer look at them. The person finishing up laying out their supplies in question was a petite girl with wavy black hair tied back with a large purple ribbon. At her assigned cooking station, she stood alongside an infant and a blond boy around the same age, both of whom wearing the infamously recognizable Varia uniform. This was the Varia's representative for the competition?

But as Gargouille got a good look at "her" face, he felt ill to his stomach. Sure, compared to the last time he had seen the "girl," "she" barely resembled the person he once knew. They may have grown out their hair and had finally gotten themselves new glasses and a decent fashion sense, but he'd recognize his old school rival anywhere. Those big Avada Kedavra green eyes could only belong to one person and one person only.

"Oh, fuck all kinds of ducks. Of course, you would be in a cooking competition, Scarface."

Upon hearing the comment, Hadrian whipped his head around in a panic and almost screamed bloody murder at the speaker. "D-D-Draco Malfoy?! Ho-"

Gargouille held up a hand. "Save it. We will talk after the competition. Also, it is Gargouille Serpens now. Know it. Love it. Do me a favour and actually use it."

Before Hadrian could say anything more, he then heard a loud, happy wail bellow near his ear. The next thing he knew, he was tackled into a rib-crushing embrace by a six-foot-tall mass of muscle. Brownish-blond hair. A round, gentle face. It took Hadrian a while to recognize who in the seven circles of hell this sobbing behemoth nuzzling his face was. "Neville?!" He cried out, making said person blubber even harder. "Oh, wow...you...changed a lot," Hadrian said weakly. That was a gross understatement, and everyone who had known Leimakid back when he was still Neville Longbottom knew it.

"Like you're one to talk. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought you were your own sister," Gargouille muttered under his breath.

While this was all happening, Belphegor glanced up from his phone and raised an unseen eyebrow at Leimakid. "Mammy, isn't that peasant the new chauffeur?"

"Muu, he's part-time and not scheduled for any shifts today. It's not our business if he wants to participate in a competition against his employers."

Once Hadrian freed himself from Leimakid's hug, he felt a tap on his shoulder and came face to face with a widely grinning Vardøger.

"Even Fred's here?! Does that mean-"

"Yep! That's Vardøger! Also, Kaguya and Eidolon, aka Luna and George, are in Italy too! By the way, Kaguya proposed, and she says that you have first dibs on our firstborn!" Leimakid chirped, proudly holding up his intricately carved wine cork engagement ring up for Hadrian to view.

"Really? You and Lu- I mean, Kaguya? ...Does that mean I won the pot?"

This caught Mammon's full attention. "Did someone mention a betting pool? Hadrian, as your self-proclaimed accountant, I demand to know more about this."

"Twenty-five percent," Hadrian immediately offered.

"Fifty."

"Thirty."

"Fifty-five."

"Thirty-five, an actual contract drawn up that will allow you to handle my accounts, and a copy of Maxwell Barnett's Guide to Advanced Occlumency."

"Throw in Living With Legilimens: Choose Your Minds Wisely, and you've got yourself a deal. My old copy is falling apart."

"Done."

Gargouille sighed and shook his head. "Hadrian, is it? You won't be winning much. The Galleons pool is practically nonexistent because of the Blood-"

BOOM!

All around the Hadrian's cooking stations, the other stations exploded, spewing an oddly colored gas directly at the contestants. One by one, the participants began to drop, their faces varying in shades of green and blue with foam and blood coming out of their mouths. This went on until finally, only the Varia and Marauder's Den representatives remained standing.

"OH...MY… UH… IT LOOKS LIKE THE MAJORITY OF OUR CONTESTANTS HAVE, UM… HEY, COULD SOMEONE CHECK ON THEM? I'M PRETTY SURE SOME ARE DEAD," the announcer fumbled.

As soon as the shock cleared from their systems, the knowledge that they had narrowly avoided getting taken out of the competition by the skin of their teeth set in.

"Psst, Gary. I think we dodged a bullet," Leimakid whispered, his voice shaking as much as the rest of him.

"Don't you dare start calling me Gary too," the young Potioneer hissed back. Though he'd be lying that he didn't share his friends' horror. Their designated cooking station had exploded in a cloud of poisonous gas as well. Had they not stopped to catch up with Hadrian, they would've joined the other convulsing contestants on the ground.

"D-did you guys do this?" Hadrian accused his bodyguards for the day.

"Muu, not that I know of," Mammon shrugged nonchalantly. Either the poison bomb in Hadrian's station had failed to detonate when it should, or it was the work of someone in the Varia wanting to ensure their win. Either way, the infobroker could care less.

Everyone then turned to Belphegor, who finally noticed the stares and stopped texting.

"The prince has been meme-bombing the group chat since three in the morning! Where would I have had the time to do something boring like poison-bomb some peasants? And why would I resort to killing the normie way instead of cutting up a bitch?"

"FOLKS, I JUST RECEIVED THE VERDICT. GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS. THE GOOD NEWS… MOST OF THE DOWNED CONTESTANTS CAN EXPECT TO MAKE A FULL RECOVERY AFTER BEING GIVEN PROPER TREATMENT. THE BAD NEWS IS THAT THEY WON'T BE ABLE TO PARTICIPATE SO WITH ONLY TWO COMPETITORS LEFT IN THE RUNNING, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE TO CUT THE COOK-OFF SHORT."

A lot of unhappy Mafiosi began booing and jeering at the announcer.

"How have we not been disqualified for cheating?" Hadrian said in amazement.

"Muu, technically, the rules never state that it's forbidden to try anything before the competition," Mammon elaborated. "In other words, sabotage, slipping in banned ingredients, and fixing the matches are all fair game so long as the actual event hasn't officially started. Don't worry, this kind of stunt has happened before. The only difference was that all of the contestants were killed."

"All of them? Does that mean that the contestant who poisoned them won by default?" Leimakid asked.

"No, there was no winner. The buffoon accidentally took himself out of the competition permanently as well."

Everyone went completely silent at that.

In the end, they had to wait about another two whole hours for the bodies to be cleared out and the tampered stations to be removed and replaced.

"AND WE'RE BACK! ALRIGHT, SINCE WE'VE WASTED ENOUGH TIME, LET'S SKIP ALL THE BORING STUFF LIKE RULES AND WHATNOT AND GET STRAIGHT INTO THIS YEAR'S THEME! SPONGE CAKE! (Why am I not surprised?)" The last part was mumbled underneath the announcer's breath.

The audience also shared in the announcer's exasperation. Everyone and their grandmother knew about Timeteo di Vongola's infamous sweet tooth. Hell, the old man's Guardians were even named after sweets! Rumor has it that he specifically chose his Guardians because his Vongola Hyper Intuition ran on his love of sweets. Ever since Timeteo's coronation as Don Vongola Nono, every time the Vongola would host the annual cooking competition, the theme would always be, without fail, some form of dessert recipe.

"Easy win?" Leimakid smirked.

"Sod off and go stick your dick back in that ball of crazy you call a 'waifu'! Have you forgotten we're up against him of all people?!" Gargouille said hysterically, pointing at Hadrian. "Marauder's Den isn't going to win against the Varia. Not when they have the bloody House Husband of Hogwarts representing them of all people, but I'll be damned if I don't at least put up a good fight!"

It became clear during their Second Year that Harry Potter was some sort of kitchen prodigy. While trying to find a place where he could be alone for a while, he had stumbled upon the Hogwarts kitchen, which he quickly claimed as his sanctuary.

Cooking had always been a good stress relief activity for the boy. As soon as Harry could walk, he was given countless of chores to do to "earn his keep," with cooking being one of them. It quickly became the one chore Harry didn't hate because if the recipe turned out well, mealtimes was the only times Harry got any sort of positive acknowledgement for his efforts, even if it was only expressed by shoving the food into their faces like starved animals.

Second Year had been especially taxing on twelve-year-old Harry's emotional and mental well-being after the majority of the school had turned against him for coming out as a Parselmouth. After much persuasion, the young Wizard was able to convince the Hogwarts House Elves to let him use their facilities whenever he wished.

Ron, ever the glutton, was first to notice that Harry had returned to the dorms with what looked suspiciously like a homemade shepherd's pie in hand. Word soon spread after that and people would flock to Harry for a taste of whatever food he had made after coming out of the school kitchens. One bite and people were hooked. Harry didn't mind sharing as he had a tendency to make too much, especially on his bad days.

Third Year experienced many a day when every person in Gryffindor Tower (even Professor McGonagall) skipped out on having dinner in the Great Hall because Harry made an entire buffet's worth of food that needed to be devoured.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Within his office, Ottavio and some of his men watched the security feed of the competition. Everything was going relatively well. Sure, their plan had hit a little snag when one of the contestant groups avoided their bombs, but the Varia would eventually claim victory once Hadrian fulfilled his purpose.

Even on the off chance that the little Cloud brat lost, Ottavio would have an excuse to get rid of his competition one way or another.

"Now we just sit back and watch," the Cloud Officer said as he drank from the wide glass containing 1811 Chateau d'Yquem white wine.

"Are you sure about this, sir? What if things don't go as planned? The Nono-"

Ottavio waved off his subordinate's concerns. "Please, his Frankenstein Cooking may be a weapon of mass destruction, but any typical Flame User can deal with it. Besides, what do you think will happen? A bunch of apple mousse cakes escape from the stadium and invade the Iron Fort?"

Little did he know that Ottavio's first mistake was assuming Hadrian was the only one who could use Frankenstein Cooking among the competitors.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"BEFORE WE START, WE HAVE A MESSAGE FROM A LOVELY SIGNORIA KAGUYA TSUKIHIME TO SIGNOR GARGOUILLE SERPENS!" The announcer interrupted before clearing his throat to read off of the paper he was given. "DEAR GARY, IF YOU DON'T WIN THE COMPETITION, YOU, ME, MY BEAU, AND THE TWINS WILL JOIN THE VARIA AND BECOME HADRIAN'S SLAVES! WITH ALL MY LOVE, KAGUYA. PS. DON'T FORGET YOUR PIPE. YOU'RE GOING TO NEED IT."

Immediately, murmurs erupted among the audience. Not a lot of it was good. The most vocal complained about the Vongola hoarding all of the best talents for themselves.

Hadrian frowned at the ultimatum. "Did I just get dragged into a family dispute?"

"Muu, I've been hearing some juicy stuff about Marauder's Den. Win or lose, I don't see why we shouldn't invest in them," Mammon stated, a greed-filled glint in their eyes.

Gargouille exploded in fury. Vardøger literally had to sit on him to prevent the blond from running straight home to strangle Kaguya. "I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU BLIND BIMBO?! I'M GOING TO LIQUIDATE YOUR LIVER AND POUR CEMENT INTO YOUR EARS WHILE YOU'RE ASLEEP!"

Belphegor grinned madly at the raging Potioneer. "Wildcat, I'm breaking up with you. The prince has found himself a new beau."

Hadrian looked to Belphegor in confusion. "We were dating?"

"AND FOR THE LAST TIME, MY NAME IS GARGOUILLE, YOU SCHIZOPHRENIC AIRHEAD, NOT GARY!"

"Okay, rude. You can't call my lady that."

"I'LL CALL THAT WALKING AFFRONT TO BASIC RATIONALITY WHATEVER THE HELL I DAMN WELL PLEASE!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The cook off began pretty smoothly. Contestants would have only two hours to create whatever they saw fit so long as they stuck to the theme. Once the countdown began, both Hadrian and Gargouille immediately got to work on their respective desserts.

On Hadrian's end, he had already made a sponge cake base, apple and cheese mousse, and cranberry nappage prior to the start of the competition. Because of the time constraints, Hadrian had decided to pre-make all the necessary parts ahead of time and then spend the first quarter of the cook off assembling the miniature cakes. Normally, the original recipe called for freezing the cakes for several hours, but Hadrian used a special refrigerator Spanner had made for him that was repurposed to run on Flames. Once the assembled fist-sized cakes were placed in the fridge, he downed about a gallon of Sun-infused peppermint tea and poured as much of his Flames as he could into the machine without overloading it. The end result had him cut down the time for the cakes to freeze to less than an hour. The remainder of his time was used to apply the nappage glaze and caramel shard garnish.

Meanwhile, Gargouille was planning on constructing some kind of massive cake sculpture from scratch. He was carefully molding hot mizuame into what looked like pointed European roofs with just his bare hands. He didn't stop there, though. Tiny intricate stained glass windows featuring mythological creatures such as mermaids and dragons were also created before the stuff cooled. While this was happening, the blond had Vardøger and Leimakid focus on mass producing sheets of pre-rolled sponge cakes of varying sizes. The last thirty minutes remaining was used to put all the pieces together. Crème was added to the cakes then rolled up. The mizuame sugar sculptures were then added to the sides and on top of Gargouille's creation to complete the look.

While it wasn't as exciting as the Cooking Competitions of the past, the two remaining contestants were still able to display a massive amount of skill and dexterity in their cooking. Normally, handling hot sugar was a dangerous endeavor for amateurs, yet Gargouille showed no ill effects as he worked with a speed that made the local taffy pullers green with envy. Before long, speculations on the possibility that the young man possessed Lightning or Sun Flames began to spread. On the other hand, Hadrian was already well-known for being a rare and highly coveted Flame Cook.

"AAAAAAANNNNNNDDDD TIME'S UP! FROM THE LOOKS OF IT, MARAUDER'S DEN HAS CREATED A CASTLE MADE ENTIRELY OUT OF JAPANESE ROLL CAKES WITH MIZUAME SUGAR SPIRAL ROOFS AND STAIN GLASS WINDOWS. BUT WILL IT STAND UP TO WHAT TEMPERANZA HAD MADE?! AND OVER ON THE VARIA'S SIDE OF THE FIELD, TEMPERANZA MAY NOT HAVE CREATED ANYTHING AS LARGE AS SERPENS'S ENTRY, BUT HE MORE THAN MAKES UP FOR IT IN QUANTITY! I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU, SIGNORS AND SIGNORINAS, BUT THAT DAINTY DISH NOT ONLY LOOKS PRETTY DAMN TASTY BUT SEEMS EASIER ON THE STOMACH TOO! JUDGES? WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THEM AT FIRST GLANCE?!"

While the judges gave their input on the appearance of the cakes, the two participants ignored what they had to say in favour of roasting their fellow competitor.

"Really, Gargouille? You recreated Hogwarts?" Hadrian giggled.

"You're one to talk. Do you really think you are going to impress the judges with such a pathetically small dish?" Gargouille scoffed, eyeing the dozens of the other teen's autumn-themed entremets with disdain.

"Oi, size isn't everything! And what about you? Are you overcompensating for something with that monstrosity?"

"At least I could satisfy the judges with my cake! That sorry excuse of a crumpet is barely a mouthful!"

As the two teens snarked back and forth at each other, Vardøger tiptoed towards Hadrian's kitchen counter in the hopes of stealing one of Hadrian's delectable-looking cakes for himself. Surely, the green-eyed teen wouldn't notice that one of the baker's dozen was missing.

A quick sleight of hand later, and he finally got his hands on his prize.

But as the redhead was about to leave, one of Hadrian's red-glazed entremets quickly launched itself at Vardøger and latched onto his face with a death-like grip. Vardøger let out a silent scream of horror and terror as he flailed around trying to get the now alive and angry cake off of him.

With one of their comrades disturbed, the rest of the entremet brood began to stir. Using the caramel shards as wings, they all took to the sky. Much to the horror of those in the stadium, the tiny cakes began to dive-bomb at members of the audience. Pandemonium ensues and one of the Mafioso tried to protect their Boss by shooting at the fluttering cake hoard. One of bullets clipped an entremet in its caramel shard wing sending it hurtling to the ground where the tiny cake splattered into a pile of mousse. Unfortunately, the cocktail of Cloud and Sun Flames in their system caused the downed entremet to rapidly regenerate from its injuries. Not as a singular cake as it was before, but it had split into two, then three, then four!

A loud rumbling inhuman sound reverberated over the chaos as Gargouille's roll cake castle began to shudder and groan. The audience quickly ran towards the nearest exit in order to escape the grasp of the now awake and angry cake sculpture who kept on devouring anyone it got its hands on. The victims would then proceed to slide straight through the crème within its rolls and out of the other end of one of its many rolls, and repeat.

Not even the Vongola Nono was spared from being mobbed by flying miniature cakes and as well as being eaten then shat out by the giant walking sponge roll.

Throughout it all, Hadrian watched on with a 1000% Supremely Done™ gaze. He took out his thermos, poured himself a cup, and knocked the whole thing back like a shot of vodka. Hadrian felt someone come up beside him and sit down in the available stool next to him.

"Are you even drinking green tea anymore? There are more Rain Flames in that thing than the actual beverage," Gargouille commented dryly as he took a long puff from his ornate pipe.

Hadrian wrinkled his nose as he recognized the smell of marijuana. Gargouille was one to talk. The Cloudy-Sky could practically taste the Rain in the air wafting off of the blond as he smoked. "You too?" Hadrian said more out of empathy than anything.

"Ah, I had forgotten… Dorea Black was your grandmother. It seems that not even the Potter lineage could negate the Black Sugar Curse," Gargouille said, his long suffering stare still fixated on the chaos before them.

"There's an actual name for that?"

Hadrian would later learn that one of their Black ancestors was stupid enough to incur the wrath of a Muggleborn noblewoman named Elena Estraneo and her fiancé, who was also an exceptionally powerful Mist Flame User. To punish the arrogant Pureblood, she and her lover created a Bloodline-locked Curse that made it so that their target and his descendants could never get near whatever foodstuff made using sugar without it coming alive and attempting to devour them. Over the years, the newly dubbed Black Sugar Curse had largely waned in power, but the story was still told to young Black children in order to explain why the birthday cake they tried to make for their parents suddenly started barking and acting like a dog.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Left without an option, Timoteo reluctantly called the Varia to come in and sort out the problem after he and his Guardians went in and out of the living Japanese roll cake for the fifth time. As soon as they heard the infamous sound of Squalo's favourite greeting, they all but jumped on the opportunity to leave the Officers to their fates.

"VOOOOIIII! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO, YOU SHITTY CHEF?!" The Rain Officer bellowed, his cries practically echoed throughout the mostly empty stadium.

Levi and Lussuria followed closely behind. Upon seeing Gargouille's creation, Levi turned white as a sheet and fainted, foam coming out of his mouth. Ever since his first experience with one of Hadrian's infamous cake monsters, he had never gotten over the trauma.

"Ushishishi. It's about time!" The crème covered Belphegor yelled at the newly arrived Officers.

"Um, is he alright? Should I wake him up?" Leimakid slowly approached Levi's comatose form.

"Just kick him in the head or something! If he falls asleep again, do it again!" Squalo barked as he sliced an entremet in half, only for it to reform into triplets.

Leimakid shrugged and chose a third option. He fished out a vial, cracked it open, and held it under the man's nose.

Levi practically jumped to his feet, and let out a loud disgusted noise. "What in the name of Father Knuckles is that?!" He nearly shrieked, shuffling as far away from Leimakid as possible.

"Essence of durian," the young Herbalist replied, re-pocketing the vial. He decided not to mention that the durians were fed on Flames (Gargouille's Flames to be exact) so that they would produce the most foul stench possible.

Upon realizing where he was and what was around him, the Lightning Officer began panicking. "Noooooooo! STAY AWAY!" Levi cried out, pulling out one of his parabolas. He swung it around wildly at the cake hoard surrounding him until it finally made contact with one of the dive bombing entremets. The impact sent the fist-size flying treat into Belphegor's wide open mouth who was suddenly cut off mid-shout by the cake.

Belphegor chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, "Huh, they actually taste divine."

Squalo blinked. "Wait, they're edible?! Voi, round them all up and stuff yourselves with them!"

"You got it, Squ-chan!" Lussuria yelled back, snatching up three at once.

However, the Storm Officer turned green. "Ulp...There's a revolution inside of the royal stomach…" Belphegor whimpered before vomiting out an absurd amount of mousse that one fist-sized dessert shouldn't possess.

Everyone stopped and waited with bated breath for even more of the entremets to be spawned from the mess...

...But nothing happened.

"Muu, this is just my guess, but it looks like consumption removes the Flames that gave it life in the first place," Mammon suggested.

"Hari-chan. What did you put in those things?" Lussuria asked, staring down cautiously at the cakes he just caught.

"Apple and soft cheese mousse, sponge cake, cranberry nappage, and…" Hadrian trailed off after realizing that the Sun Officer might not like what was next.

"And?!" The martial artist demanded.

"...S-Sun and Cloud Flames," the Cloudy-Sky finished reluctantly.

"HARI-CHAN!" Lussuria wailed. "WHOSE FLAMES?!"

"Err… ours?"

"HARI-CHAN! THAT'S WHY YOU ASKED FOR A SAMPLE OF MY FLAMES?!"

"I needed them to make the cakes! Even if I had already done all the prep work before the competition, the entremets take more than two lousy hours without Flames!" Hadrian protested.

No wonder Belphegor nearly exploded after eating just one. The one Belphegor accidently ate must have tried to multiply in a last ditch attempt to escape before Hadrian's Flames were leached out of their system.

"So one down," Squalo said before grimacing at the swarm, "...several baker's dozens and that fucking behemoth to go."

After watching the Varia running around like headless chickens for several minutes, Gargouille had enough. With a heavy sigh, he got up from his seat and reached into his leg pouch for his collapsible sword. "Well now, watching them is getting a bit dull. Are you coming, Scarface?"

Hadrian merely raised an eyebrow and hummed. He also got up from his seat and then launched himself at the cake castle monstrosity with a large butcher knife he had appropriated from his cooking station. While the cake sculpture's attention was solely concentrated on eating Mammon for the umpteenth time, Hadrian took the opportunity to cut off its arm, saving the Mist Arcobaleno from having another swim through layers of crème.

He frowned when he saw that the wound he had created became good as new in just a few moments. It looked like it was going to take more than just Cloud Flames to hack away at his opponent.

"Why didn't you two jump in earlier?!" Leimakid complained to the two teens, literal waterfalls of tears comically pouring out from his tear ducts. He had forgotten My Little Friend at home so the situation is a hundred times worse for him.

"My tea went cold," Hadrian deadpanned.

Gargouille, on the other hand, simply shrugged. "I wanted to observe what happens when I use muscovado sugar and compare it to coconut sugar. My conclusions: muscovado makes them significantly slower than molasses, more intelligent than maple sugar, and more violent than grape sugar."

"Well, if you've got all the data you need from it, can you please tell us how to kill this thing?!"

"..."

"...You don't know, do you?"

"...I knew I had forgotten something."

For answer, Vardøger opted to use sign language to convey his exact thoughts towards Gargouille at the moment. He held up both fists, palm-side facing towards him, and raised the third digit of each hand: the universally understood sign for "fuck you."

"Forget it! We've got Hadrian's flying murder cakes! You two deal with Gary's Cake-zilla!" Leimakid shouted, ducking to dodge three entremets heading towards him.

"STOP CALLING ME GARY!" Gargouille yelled back.

"Cake-zilla?" Hadrian repeated with confusion before shrugging and just rolled with it. Just calling the damn thing "sponge cake sculpture monster" got tiring after a while.

"FOR THE BOSS AND THE VARI-Oof!" Levi's war cry was cut off after the (now newly dubbed) Cake-zilla knocked him away, sending him careening into the walls of the stadium. A few of his parabolas got stuck in a few of Cake-zilla's many elongated rolls while he was charging up his attack.

"Oh, for fuck's sake! LEVI, I'LL BE BORROWING THAT!" Hadrian groaned as he ran at the Cake-zilla, using his improved agility to avoid its attacks to get close. The teen took the brief window of opportunity to yank out one of Levi's abandoned parabolas and quickly jump away from one of Cake-zilla's swatting arms.

Once Hadrian was a decent distance away, he reached deep into his pool of Flames and let his Sky Flames coat the parabola and release it at the sponge roll monstrosity. Rather than throwing it like a lance, the Flame-covered parabola snapped open and spun around not unlike a chainsaw. The parabola traveled in a wide arc, slicing off one of its arms and boomeranged back to Hadrian, who effortlessly caught it by the handle.

Hadrian smirked triumphantly when he saw his opponent roar in anger at the loss of one of its arms. "Wow, it's a little too heavy for my tastes, but I could get used to using a weaponized umbrella," he said, hefting the weapon over his shoulder.

"HEY! GET YOUR OWN PARABOLA!" The Lightning Officer complained loudly as he stumbled out of the Levi-sized hole he had made.

Cake-zilla let out an enraged roar at its lost appendage as it honed in on Hadrian. With its attention fully on the Cloudy-Sky teen, the others could focus on the entremet mob. Gargouille decided he'd lend his old school rival a hand and confronted his creation. Things were going well at first, with both boys whittling away at Cake-zilla one piece at a time. Unfortunately, they hadn't foreseen the living cake roll castle amassing a vast amount of crème and spewing it at its targets. First, it hit Hadrian, who was then thrown back into Gargouille, who also got caught up in the stream of pressurized crème. The force of the attack sent the two of them out of the stadium and crashing into the next building over.

"Ugh… Where in the fucking hell are we?" Gargouille groaned.

"I could be wrong, but I think we're inside the Iron Fort," Hadrian said as he picked himself up and struggled to get back on his feet. The Vongola fortress was located deep within a forest so unless someone had suddenly decided to build a house within the last several hours, it was unlikely that they could be anywhere else.

Gargouille whipped his head towards him so fast Hadrian swore he heard a sickening crack coming from his abused neck bones. "No," the Potioneer breathed.

This was a horrible situation to him. Gargouille had agreed to move to Italy with his fellow former Bloodless because he'd figured they could live in relative peace as neutral Flame Users. He didn't want to gain the attention of any Famiglia. At least, nothing negative. The last thing he wanted was for a major Famiglia like the Vongola to want to decide to destroy them because they had accidentally broken into their headquarters.

"No. No no no no no no. Non! Nein! Nyet! All the words expressing my denial in every language in the world!" Gargouille chanted, growing more and more hysterical with every syllable.

"What are you getting so worked up about?" Hadrian drawled.

"Do you not see the urgency of the situation we're in?! Even if we get out of this alive, who knows what the Vongola will do to us for breaking into their most secure location!"

"In that case, I'd retort that this incident comes to show that they were long overdue for an upgrade in security."

Realizing quickly that he wouldn't get anywhere with the black-haired teen, Gargouille let out an inhuman noise as he began pulling on his hair. "What is fucking wrong with you?! Are you suicidal or something? How in Morgana's milky fresh tits are you so damn relaxed about everything?!"

CRASH!

With a mighty roar, Cake-zilla had made itself known.

"You know what?! FUCK IT ALL! I might as well get a bit of stress relief out of all this chaos!" Gargouille roared, his pent up frustration taking over him. He had abandoned his previously precise and disciplined fighting style in favour of attacking his creation in a feral, unpredictable berserker-like frenzy.

Hadrian followed suit. He noticed that the new environment was forcing him to change up his attack patterns. Before the wide open field of the stadium allowed him to maneuver around his opponent. Now in a more confined space like the hidden passageways of the Iron Fort, Hadrian needed to make his attacks count as he couldn't afford to play around with Cake-zilla like he had in an effort to locate its weaknesses. Besides, he had already gleaned all the information he needed. Hadrian now knew its attack patterns, its blind spots, and when its guard was weak. All he had to do was take advantage of them all.

His Sky Flames seemed to have a "neutralizing" property, eliminating Cake-zilla's regeneration factor altogether. Between the two of them, Hadrian and Gargouille didn't have the means to create some sort of large-scale, singular attack that could permanently neutralize the cake monster. But they did have one strategy.

Hadrian was to whittle away at Cake-zilla using his Sky Flames while Gargouille targeted the same area, disintegrating a good chunk of that part with a vengeance. In the end, the final confrontation with Cake-zilla took about another thirty minutes of running around and slicing away at the Frankenstein Cooking sculpture. When everything was said and done, Gargouille and Hadrian were both dead on their feet and covered in whipped cream residue and bits of sponge cake.

"Fucking finally!" Gargouille sighed with relief. "As exhausting as that was, dismantling a giant cake monster is unexpectedly a very therapeutic endeavor." One less problem threatening to turn his newly grown head of blond hair gray before he was out of his teenage years.

CRACKLE!

"...Did you hear that?" Hadrian asked the blond cautiously.

The sound sounded like it came from below their feet. Both teens slowly looked down to see the floor riddled with deep cracks. Before they could so much as move another inch, the floor gave away, sending the two boys down into the room below.

"Scarhead? Are you dead?" Gargouille said, staggering to his feet and looking around and wondering where the other teen had gone.

"No, but the person who put this thing here will be," Hadrian groaned as he tried to get up. The teen had landed uncomfortably on what appeared to be an elaborate crystal sculpture. It was a good thing he had his Cloud Flames working overtime to propagate his durability, otherwise he would have been skewered by the sculpture's numerous spikes.

CRACK!

The "crystal statue" began rapidly crumbling under Hadrian. Thinking fast, he leapt off of the collapsing object and watched as the "crystal" broke apart and its parts slowly dissipating to reveal the unconscious form of a young man who had been trapped inside. Once freed from his prison, the man fell forward and collapsed at Hadrian's feet.

"In the nonsensical words of Kaguya, 'Fuck this shit, I'm out,'" Gargouille deadpanned as he hobbled towards the nearest exit.

Hadrian continued to awkwardly stare down at the unknown man practically face-planted on top of his cake covered shoes.

"Sweet pomegranates of Persephone! What the bloody fuck is my life?!"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"Um, sir-" His assistant began.

In a flash, Ottavio grabbed his subordinate by the neck, choking off whatever sentence they were about to utter. With a quick twist followed by a sickening snap, he broke their neck. The Cloud Officer then released his grip, dropping the body in a graceless heap on the office floor.

"...Anyone else?" Ottavio deadpanned.

Nobody dared to so much as breath.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

"I never want to eat another cake again," Belphegor mumbled. His stomach rumbled again, and the Storm Officer had to hold back another wave of nausea.

"I never want to see another cake again," Levi shuddered, stumbling alongside his fellow Officers in a glassy-eyed daze. He had cake residue in places he didn't know cake could get into.

"I never want to fight another cake again," Squalo complained. His long hair was completely covered in mousse and crème. It was going to take an entire day of showering to get rid of the stuff.

"I want a raise in my salary and an early bonus!" Mammon snarled in the Rain Officer's ear. They lost count of how many times they almost drowned in mousse and crème because of their small size.

The Sun Officer was about to tack on his own retort, but he spotted a familiar figure approaching them. "Oh, Hari-chan~! You're back! So how did-" The rest of Lussuria's sentence died the moment he laid eyes on the unconscious figure hanging off of his petite friend.

For the second time since Squalo met Hadrian, the Rain Officer was silent as a grave. Mammon nearly fell off of their perch on his shoulder. Belphegor's eyebrows had risen so high his eyes could almost be seen through his thick bangs. The previously zombified Levi practically sprang back to life and started weeping in happiness.

"So yeah, funny story. Guess what the hidden prize for winning the cooking competition is," Hadrian awkwardly joked, as he adjusted the comatose Xanxus to a more comfortable position on his back.

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

Cleaning up the aftermath of the cooking competition was a nightmare and a half. Not only did the Vongola have to fix up the Iron Fort, but they also had to demolish the stadium. And that's not to mention having to deal with the onslaught of complaints coming from the Bosses who attended the event. The paperwork alone nearly reached the ceiling of Timoteo's office at one point.

As for what happened to Gargouille, Leimakid, and Vardøger…

All three had disappeared without a trace shortly after Cake-zilla was destroyed. However, no one has been able to locate them ever since. Even the place where their store was located was empty. (Mammon began charging three times everything their usual prices over the lost opportunity.)

On the bright side (at least on the Varia's end), Xanxus was miraculously defrosted. The news caused pandemonium to erupt in Varia HQ. By the time what happened to Xanxus had reached the Nono's ears, all they could do was damage control. Besides, it wasn't like they could just put Xanxus back on ice now that news of him being defrosted had spread all throughout Italy. The best option for them to take was to pretend that it was planned and let speculations take care of things.

And so, Xanxus was allowed to recuperate without interruptions in the Varia infirmary.

Despite Lussuria's best efforts, he couldn't heal the frostbite scarring Timoteo had given to his adopted son after the old man callously put his son under the Zero Point Breakthrough technique. Being frozen for eight years had done a number on Xanxus. The Sun Officer estimated that it would take at least a month of bedrest and about a year or so of physical therapy for his Boss to be back at full strength.

Needless to say, Xanxus, in all his pissed off stubbornness, did not like his Sun Officer's verdict he was given upon regaining consciousness and proceeded to raise as much hell as he could while still stuck in bed and too weak to so much as sit up on his own.

Unable to completely handle so much on his plate, Lussuria begged Hadrian to lend a hand by tasking his friend to handle Xanxus's dietary needs. Hadrian happily did so, but he would later regret accepting, even if it was to help a close friend in need.

The young chef had his hands full trying to find a meal that would shut the spoiled brat of a man up. Half the time, Xanxus would get angry at some slight and toss his food at whoever his ire was aimed towards. The other half consisted of him taking a few bites before declaring the dish to be unsuitable for his palate. Frankly, it was a miracle that the Varia Boss didn't die or have his recovery time set back due to malnutrition. If it wasn't for the fact that Xanxus was Lussuria's Sky and Boss, Hadrian would have slipped two cherry pits into the bedridden Varia Head's next serving of porridge.

About a week into Xanxus's awakening, Hadrian began running into some major issues. Someone who had gotten bored with living had the bright idea to ruin all the food in the Varia refrigerator. Everything was not only spoiled, but to his horror, Hadrian also found out that someone had deliberately introduced motherfucking black mold to the kitchen, meaning that he couldn't even so much as think of picking up a kitchen knife until the entire area was put under quarantine and every last nook and cranny was completely sanitized and disinfected.

Hadrian then proceeded to hunt down the culprit responsible with a vengeance. Of course, it wasn't just one person but a whole group that was involved. A dozen Cloud mooks, four Suns, six Rains, two Storms, and the one Mist who had thought up the whole "prank" in the first place.

One by one, they were slowly picked off. Their bodies were later found propped up like scarecrows on the rooftops, gutted and stuffed with goat cheese. Flies and maggots had long taken hold of them, turning them into casu marzu cadavers.

The former Wizard would later learn that Ottavio had ordered some of his supporters to sabotage Hadrian's efforts to speed up Xanxus's recovery as much as they could. From what Hadrian had observed, Ottavio wasn't even upset that he had just effortlessly taken down a good chunk of Ottavio's minions. But whether or not he showed any concern over what Hadrian was capable of still remained to be seen.

Currently, Hadrian was on his way back to Varia HQ from an emergency food run to replace all the spoiled ingredients when something caught his eye and made him stop.

It was a young girl with light blonde hair twisted into two loops and pinned back on the top of her head standing in his path with her back towards him. For some reason, his Cloudy-Sky Flames reacted strongly towards the mysterious girl. There was a painfully longing feeling burning in the deepest depths of Hadrian's being. His Flames wanted to reach out, but they immediately shied away at the last moment as though they felt that they didn't deserve to get any closer.

"Ciao, Mio Re," the girl chirped happily as she slowly turned towards Hadrian and began approaching him with a bounce on her steps.

Hadrian had to do a double-take. There was no mistaking who she was now.

"Lu- Kaguya?" The former-Wizard whispered in shock.

There, slowly walking towards him with her arms outstretched invitingly for an embrace, was Luna Lovegood, or Kaguya Tsukihime as she now went by, according to Leimakid. He'd recognized her anywhere. That particular pale blonde shade of hair, those delicate fae-like features, and the perpetual dreamy glaze in her silvery blue eyes. She was even wearing her signature radish earrings and cork bottle necklace that she claimed protected her from "Nargles."

However, there was a cloudiness in those dreamy eyes that Hadrian didn't remember being there the last time he saw her. The way she was staring at them, not directly at his person but rather in his general direction. Even the way she moved seemed off. Every gesture was noticeably slow and careful, filled with uncertainty as though the former Witch was unsure of her surroundings.

It then hit Hadrian. The cold realization slapped him in the face. How and when did she lose her sight?!

Just as the blonde was about to wrap her arms around him, Hadrian quickly backed away from her. "Kaguya… Wh-What happened to your eyes?"

She merely smiled serenely at him, completely at ease despite her blindness and Hadrian's rejection of her. "Sorry, Ruler. You've kept me waiting… kept us waiting… for far too long," the blonde girl sighed the last part.

A quick wave of her dainty hand and the world around Hadrian dissolved into indigo and yellow Flames. The last thing he saw was tears running down Kaguya's face.

Translations:

Mio figlio - my son

Mia Madre - my mother

Mi dispiace - I'm sorry

AN: RIP entremets and Cake-zilla. You only lasted pages twelve to sixteen on my Google Docs. We're coming close to the end of the Break Away Arc. If everything goes as planned, I might be able to finish up this Arc in the next chapter. I also promised that the next story arc is the Interludes Arc, but I decided to turn that into its own separate story. It's going to be about how Gargouille/Draco, Leimakid/Neville, Vardøger/Fred, Eidolon/George, and Kaguya/Luna became the people you see in this chapter. Basically, highlighting how they differ from their canon counterparts. Keep an eye out for it in the near future.

I'm letting Hadrian meet his Guardians early. In the first draft, I was planning on introducing them after the Ring Battles Arc, but I wanted them to have more of a role in the story. The Cooking Competition definitely wasn't anywhere in the original draft either, but it made a good scenario to see how Hadrian could work together with his eventual Guardians. I will admit, I got the inspiration for the idea from one of my friends over on Discord. If all of you happen to be reading this, thanks for giving me the okay to plagiarize the idea~

Luna's epitaph: An actual Luna quote in TOotP, I believe.

Kaguya Tsukihime: Luna's new name is a reference to Kaguya-hime (or Princess Kaguya), the main character in the ancient Japanese folktale of The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter. In the story, Kaguya-hime was a princess of the Moon sent to Earth for her safety until the Celestial Beings could come and reclaim her. Hence where the surname, Tsukihime, which basically means "moon princess," comes from. I'm thinking of making this version of Luna a low-key otaku. Hopefully, I can write her as a likeable weeb instead making her go overboard.

Leimakid Hyades: Leimakid is the name of a subspecies of land nymphs residing in meadows. Hyades, on the other hand, refer to a group of nymphs sired by the Titan, Atlas. In Greek mythology, they were given credit for causing rain to fall. Was I being too uncreative when I decided this will be Neville's new name?

Gargouille Serpens: Draco's first name refers to a legendary dragon that Saint Romanus of Rouen killed with the help of a death row convict who had nothing to lose in embarking on the endeavor. Serpens is not only a constellation that can be seen in the northern hemisphere, but in Greek mythology, it is the serpent that is associated by the Greek god of healing and medicine, Asclepius. By the way, is it bad that I decided to make him somewhat of a perpetually stressed out mom friend?

Vardøger and Eidolon Doppelgänger: The twins' surname refers to a supernatural double of a living person often depicted as a bringer of bad luck or death. Vardøger is the Scandinavian equivalent only instead of bringing death, they are more or less the embodiment of déjà vu, where the spiritual double appears or does something in advance of the living individual. Eidolon is an apparition in Greek thought. They are the spiritual image of a person, living or dead, that projects the idea that the person exists, however, they are not actually there in the first place.

Dildo bat: Leimakid's weapon of choice, My Little Friend, came from the Saints Row game series. The Penetrator, as it is called, shows up in Saints Row: The Third, Saints Row: Money Shot, and Saints Row IV.

Black Sugar Curse: I would like to thank my beta for helping me flesh out the mechanics behind "Frankenstein Cooking," as it is called in the story. For those of you who haven't or never read my previous draft of Acedia, Frankenstein Cooking is a condition where any dessert Hadrian makes comes to life. Although Hadrian can cook up a feast to end entire world wars, he can't make so much as make a fruit salad without it suddenly gaining the ability to breathe. A curse in exchange for his mad cooking skillz.

Mammon's books: Both are canon books in the HP universe. I headcanon that Has Connections with the Wizarding World!Mammon would have dabbled in certain kinds of Magic even a Squib could use like Potions and Occlumency. Especially the latter, given that mind-related Magics would have been appealing for a Psychic Mist Illusionist.

Japanese sponge roll cake: Also called Swiss roll, jelly roll, or cream roll, it's a type of sponge cake that's filled with whipped cream and fruits then rolled up. This type of cake is believed to have been invented in Austria around the nineteenth century.

Entremet: Taken from Shokugeki no Soma's Autumn Leaf Viewing entremet, it's a multi-layered elaborately decorated mousse-based cake. Its origins can be traced back to medieval France when it was traditionally served in between courses.

Two cherry pits: Did you know that two broken cherry pits contains enough cyanide to kill a full-grown adult?

Omake VII: Hell Hath No Fury

"I want that man to suffer," Elena raged.

"I know, darling. How much of my Flame should I add to this?" Daemon asked as he stirred the Potion.

"Enough for the next ten generations of his descendants to feel my unyielding rage." the young woman snarled as she viciously carved out more symbols on the pentagram needed for the ritual.

Daemon sighed. After this, they were going to have to replace the entire floor. Oh, well, he never really liked mahogany in the first place.

"Blood Magic always requires an equivalent sacrifice. What is the one food we could stand to eat for the rest of our lives in order for this Curse to stick?" Elena informed her fiancé as she placed the finishing touches on the Ritual Circle.

Daemon shrugged and thought for a second. "Pineapples." Elena had been craving the exotic fruit ever since she became pregnant. It didn't hurt that he himself took a liking to pineapples since their last vacation to Brazil.

Earlier this afternoon, Elena and Daemon had gone out to a local caffé they often frequented. Elena had been craving something with chocolate so it was the place was the perfect location for Daemon to take his fiancée out on a date.

The caffé had a popular specialty cake that they only served a set amount of every day. Elena and Daemon were lucky enough to buy the last two cakes for that day. As soon as Elena took the first bite of her cake, she and her fiancé were startled by a loud, angry voice reverberating throughout the entire pastry shop.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WON'T SERVE ME MY CAKE?!" The customer bellowed at the top of his lungs. He was an older man wearing old-fashioned and very well made clothes made of highest quality of fabrics. His features would have been considered very handsome and charming, if his patrician face wasn't steadily turning an unattractive shade of purplish-red.

"I'm very sorry, sir," the server calmly replied, "The cake you ordered is a limited specialty item, and they come at a first-come-first-serve kind of deal. But we do have a system where you could reserve up to two pieces for yourself for an additional charge of one hundred lira. If you like, I can pencil you down-"

"NO! I demand that you bring me my cake NOW! I know you're lying! How could you have 'run out' when you just sold those filthy Mudbloods over at that table two of them?!" The man cried out, pointing a gloved finger directly at the bewildered Daemon and Elena.

Daemon scowled deeply. If the situation escalated, he wouldn't hesitate to shove the man into the worst illusions the Mist Flame User could think of. The man had the gall to not only threaten but also insult his beloved Elena. In fact, the reasons he hadn't done so already was because 1) they were in full view of dozens of civilians, and most importantly, 2) Elena would get angry at him for bringing the Vindice on their heads.

Luckily, it never came to that because what happened next was nothing short of brilliant.

The server bristled indignantly and scowled at the rude customer. Still maintaining his composure, he coldly addressed the man, "First of all, sir, I've already told you several times before our cafe sells a limited amount of our specialty cakes. Unfortunately, we just ran out of them for today. And second, I may not know what a 'mudblood' is, but I don't have to be the world's greatest linguist to know that you just used a derogatory term. Please refrain from using that kind of language or I'll be forced to summon the police to escort you out."

But rather than backing down the customer merely scoffed, apparently dismissing the server as not a threat to him. "I want to speak to the owner. He needs to know that one of his employees is a lazy and incompetent waste of space. I have been waiting for over half an hour to get service, and never have I been faced by such insolence in my life."

Instead of looking panicked, apologetic, or even get angry at the rude man, the server merely smiled. The wide shit-eating grin promised no mercy. "I'll have you know, sir. I am the co-owner of this establishment. My sister and I had inherited this place from our late grandparents nearly ten years ago. Since my sister is on maternity leave so she could take care of my newborn nephew, it's up to me to hold down the fort. Rest assured, dear customer, your complaints have been heard and we will undertake appropriate actions. Now unless you wish to order a different cake that's currently in stock, please remove yourself from my caffé. Once again, if you insist on continuing to cause a disturbance in my caffé, I will have you removed from my establishment. Now, if you please... you're starting to hold up the line."

The man actually sputtered. He opened his mouth, fully prepared to deliver another rant, but the server gave him a pointed look and glanced over to the door. Finally getting the message, the man stomped away, muttering curses under his breath and roughly brushed past a few people standing around in the caffé on his way towards the exit.

However, just as he had his hand on the door, he spotted Daemon and Elena from the corner of his eye. Abandoning his decision to leave the caffé, he stalked towards their table and got up in Daemon's face.

"Give that cake to me," the man demanded.

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"It's not fair that you and your fat whore got to have two for yourselves. You can just share one of them. Now hand over your cake."

Elena's mouth dropped at the audacity of the man, and she began to see red. She was about to give this obnoxious sorry excuse of a human being a piece of her mind but was stopped when her fiancé placed his hand on hers.

'I'll handle this.' His gleam in his eyes seem to say. "Nufufu. I don't think so." To make his point, Daemon picked up his fork, stabbed at his previously untouched cake and made a show of taking a large bite out of it. "Hmmm. Chocolate. My darling Elena's favourite."

If possible, Daemon's actions made the man become even more angrier. With a large yell, he grabbed their table and pushed it over, sending both cakes down onto the floor and almost slamming into Elena who then fell off her chair in shock. Before anyone could do anything, the man quickly bolted away from the premise.

As if on cue, police officers had just arrived, having been summoned by the server as soon as the man began to bother the couple.

After helping his fiancée up on her feet, Daemon quickly bolted after the man, not wanting his target to get away with what he had done. Just as he was about to catch up to him, the man quickly turned the corner.

Daemon heard a loud CRACK just as he was about to turn into an alley. Instead of finding a cornered criminal, he was met with a completely empty space between two buildings.

"Daemon!" Elena cried as she caught up to the Vongola Mist.

"He was a Wizard. Judging from his attitude and the way he was dressed, most likely an English Pureblood," Daemon surmised.

"Good."

The Mist Flame User gave his fiancée a questioning look. "Good?"

"That means I don't have to feel guilty about what I'm planning on doing next," Elena said darkly. "Arrogant, inbred English cowards."

"Nufufufufu… Need any help with your revenge, dear?"

"If you would be so kind, love~"

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

The next morning, Phineas Nigellus Black and his family woke up to find Black Manor half eaten by what they originally thought was someone's Animation Charm experiment gone wrong. In the weeks that followed, they finally figured out, to their horror, that anything that consisted of so much as a grain of sugar came to life and proceeded to attack them. This unknown Curse continued to persist throughout the generations. Only Phineas and his next Heads of the Black Family were spared from the Curse plaguing them thanks to the numerous of Magical Protective Spells placed upon the Black Lordship Ring. Unfortunately, those who had inherited the Black Family Magicks weren't so lucky.

With their ancestral home destroyed, the House of Black had no choice but to move. After finding a large Muggle house located in 12 Grimmauld Place, they forcibly evicted its previous residents and made the house their own. Since then, the manor has been inhabited by the following generations of Blacks.

Phineas would go down as the least liked Headmaster in Hogwarts's history, not for his Pureblood Supremacist dogma, but rather, for his castle-wide sugar ban. (What most didn't know was that the move was for his and his descendants' safety more than anything.) The edict lasted until his death in 1925 and his successor, Armando Dippet, finally removed his ban. (By then, the Black Sugar Curse, as it came to be privately known amongst members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, had significantly weakened enough for the sugar ban to not make a difference anymore.)

ʅ(°ヮ°)ʃ

(~200 years later)

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?!" James yelled.

"Not at the moment," Remus quipped.

"Ha! Good one, Moony," Sirius chuckled before turning back to his best friend. "Face it, James. You're just as much a Black as me. Looks like Aunt Dorea's blood runs strong in you."

The reason for James's frustrations was currently gnawing at his leg. One moment he was decorating a birthday cake that was meant to be a surprise for Lily. Just as he was about to put on the candles, the strawberry cake with vanilla frosting and rainbow sprinkles came alive and immediately draped itself over him.

"Where'd Peter go? He was just here a moment ago," James asked as he tried to push his creation off only for his arms to sink elbow deep into the mess of white frosting for his troubles.

"He bolted as soon as Lily's… uh, blob latched onto your leg," Sirius explained.

"Never mind. Can you two help get this thing off of me before Lily comes back from her girls' night out with Alice and Andy? I need to hurry and find a place to hide. She's going to kill me when she finds out this thing ate her favourite mug."

"Oooh, the one with the baby owls?" Remus winced. "Good luck with your wife, Prongs. Given her mood swings as of late, let's hope your time on the couch doesn't last the rest of your life."

Later that evening, James learned an important lesson his maternal ancestor should have learned a long time ago:

Never anger a pregnant woman. If you do, do yourself a favour and go to the nearest undertaker to prepare your coffin.

AN: So an entitled Pureblood dick walked into a cafe and got himself Cursed by a melon head's angry waifu. Since then, the guy's descendants have been feeling his pain. I have been listening to way too many narrations of r/entitledpeople and r/nuclearrevenge stories on YouTube as of late.

Witch!Elena: Before anyone asks, she's a Muggleborn aristocrat with a healthy appreciation with Curses and Ritual Magic. Daemon is "in the know" because he's her boy toy and a Flame User. Doesn't hurt that the Italian Ministry of Magic treats the Mafia World like they're their own separate supernatural society. As a result, Magical Italy has fairly lax laws on how they uphold the Statute of Secrecy in comparison to say America and the United Kingdom on due to how close the Mafia World works with the Civilian/Muggle World. You can tell your Muggle best friend or favorite third cousin you're a Witch or Wizard, but it's a "they have to join our society and keep the mention of Magic on the down low, or they lose any and all memory of you" type of deal.

To wrap up this chapter, please divert some of your love and appreciation towards blackkat1325. Thank you so much for sticking with me as my beta despite my long stretches of inactivity.

Thank you all for reading this reboot~! Any and all reviews, favorites, and follows are appreciated~! ( ͡ꈍ ͜ʖ̫ ͡ꈍ )