Elena glanced over as Bonnie stirred the vegetables, her voice casual but curious.
"Did you tell your grandmother yet?" she asked, knowing full well that Bonnie's witch heritage came from her grandmother's side.
Bonnie sighed heavily. "If I do, she'll say it's because I'm a witch. I don't want to be one. Do either of you?"
"I definitely don't want to be a witch," Elena replied quickly, pouring the cooked vegetables into a bowl.
"I don't know," Caroline said with a half-smile. "Being a witch sounds kind of cool, doesn't it?"
Bonnie rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, and Elena didn't look convinced either.
"Actually, I think being a witch sounds pretty awesome," came a male voice from the doorway.
All three girls turned to see Ron standing there, leaning casually against the frame. "Sorry, didn't mean to eavesdrop on girl talk. Just wanted to check if you needed any help. Oh, and Stefan's here—he's sitting on the couch in the living room."
"It's fine, I'm almost done anyway," Elena said quickly, stirring the last of the dish.
"You know," Bonnie teased, "putting it in a prettier bowl doesn't actually make it taste better."
Elena laughed and started searching drawers. "Okay, where's the big spoon? I need the big spoon!"
"It's in the small drawer to your left," Bonnie said without even glancing up.
Elena froze mid-motion, then pulled open the drawer—and sure enough, the spoon was right there.
"That's… kind of creepy," Caroline muttered.
Elena forced a laugh. "Well, you've been in this kitchen a million times. Maybe you just remembered."
"Yeah… sure," Bonnie replied, not entirely convinced.
"Let's bring the food out," Elena said, carrying one bowl to the dining room.
Caroline followed, and Ron picked up two dishes himself to help. When he came back for his own "extra-large" serving—because his appetite was double everyone else's—he noticed Bonnie murmuring to herself.
"Birthday candles," she whispered softly, opening a random drawer—and found a box of them.
Ron raised an eyebrow, setting down his plate. "You know, I actually believe in witches. There are things normal people can't explain, but the supernatural deserves respect. I've seen things myself."
Bonnie blinked at him, startled.
"Maybe you should talk to your grandma," Ron suggested kindly. Then, taking a fork, he held it up and demonstrated a bit of his Horse Talisman spell—the same trick he'd shown Damon earlier, magically mending the metal as if proving his point. "See? You're not the only one with some weirdness going on."
Before Bonnie could respond, he walked off with his food.
"Ron—wait!" she called, staring at the perfectly restored fork. But when she looked up, he was already sitting at the dining table.
"Ron," she started again, following him out, but he shook his head slightly—motioning toward the others. Not here.
Bonnie hesitated, then returned to her seat, distracted and silent throughout dinner.
Elena kept trying to get her and Stefan to talk, but Bonnie barely responded, lost in thought until Elena finally brought up the topic directly.
"Bonnie, tell them about the witch thing," Elena said, smiling at Stefan, who looked intrigued. "Her family's got witch blood—it's kind of amazing."
Bonnie frowned. "I wouldn't call it amazing."
"Well, it's definitely interesting," Stefan said thoughtfully. "I don't know much about witches, but I do know there's a history tied to the Celtic Druids who immigrated here in the 19th century."
"My family's from Salem," Bonnie said quietly, glancing at Ron—who was too busy flirting with Caroline to notice.
"Really? Salem witches?" Stefan asked, curious.
"Yeah," Bonnie replied with a forced smile.
"I think that's actually pretty cool," Stefan said, smiling at Elena, who smiled back.
"Really? Why?" Bonnie asked, surprised.
"The Salem witches were brave. They believed in individuality, and they challenged tradition," Stefan said, almost admiringly.
"Yeah… I guess that's true," Bonnie said, a small smile creeping across her face. Elena beamed—finally, a normal conversation.
Then the doorbell rang.
Elena went to open it—and froze. Standing there were Sarah and Damon.
"Elena! Long time no see," Sarah greeted warmly.
"Sarah! Oh my God, it's been forever!" Elena said, rushing to hug her.
"What are you doing here?" Stefan asked Damon sharply.
"I'm just waiting for Elena to invite me in," Damon said smoothly, smirking.
Ron's eyes narrowed. "What I want to know is—why are you with Sarah? Care to explain that, Damon?"
He lightly placed a hand on Sarah's shoulder, sensing the faint energy of compulsion running through her. He didn't dare undo it here—not yet.
"We were just talking," Damon said casually. "Sarah wanted to visit some old friends. I knew everyone would be here, so… we came together."
"Then, Elena," Damon turned with a grin, "mind inviting me in?"
Elena hesitated. "Sure, you can—"
"No," Stefan cut her off quickly. "He can't. You can't stay here, right, Damon?" His tone was sharp—protective.
"Oh, come on," Sarah interjected. "Let's not make this a thing."
"We're almost done eating," Stefan said stiffly.
"It's fine. Come in," Elena finally said.
"Your house is beautiful, Elena," Damon said smoothly as he stepped inside, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction.
Ron watched the exchange carefully. Now it made sense—vampires needed an invitation to enter a living person's home. Stefan was trying to protect Elena, while Damon was pushing boundaries just to mess with him.
But Ron wasn't focused on vampire etiquette—Damon had compelled Sarah, and that was something he couldn't overlook.
He clenched his fists, keeping quiet through the rest of dinner, lost in thought.
"Hey," Caroline whispered, touching his arm. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he said with a small smile. "Just tired."
But he wasn't. His mind was racing.
After the evening ended, he asked Caroline to drive Bonnie home, while he stayed behind with Stefan, Damon, and Sarah to settle the matter once and for all.
The door closed—and before anyone could speak, Ron turned and punched Damon square in the jaw.
"Damon, you son of a bitch," he growled. "You just can't stop screwing things up, can you?"
"Ron, calm down," Stefan stepped in, grabbing his arm.
"Calm down?!" Ron shouted. "He compelled Sarah! What's next, Stefan—Elena? Because from what I saw, he already walked through her damn front door!"
The room fell silent, the tension thick as blood in the air.