Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry; the main place kids in England went to be taught magic. That said, it was not the only way to learn magic. There were all sorts of magical tutors available for those who weren't cut out for school life, and one of them was a man named Gray Fullbuster. No one ever commented on the odd name, or the man's odd habit of stripping down for no reason at all, for he was a renown teacher of wandless magic, and happened to be good friends with Albus Dumbledore.

He was not easy to get in touch with, however. If one found him, they would find him in a bar nursing a drink, muttering things about fairies and tails and a collection of names; Natsu, Lucy, Erza. At these times any requests for tutoring were ignored, and as soon as he'd left the bar he'd be impossible to find. So, it was just by luck he happened to be in the bank the moment Harry Potter went to retrieve his school money and an object with Rubeus Hagrid.

Harry gazed up at the man whose face he did not recognize already present in the cart. There was this chill floating off of the stranger that made Harry rub his arms in discomfort.

"Hello." He said, shifting nervously. The man's eyes had bags under them; it looked like he hadn't slept in weeks, and there was a lingering smell of alcohol that never seemed to fade. The man's gaze shifted from Harry up to Hagrid, at whom he gave the slightest of nods, and turned back to Harry.

"Greetings." With that, the goblin pulled the lever, and the cart was barreling down the tunnels under Gringotts. In the moments where Harry managed to open his eyes to check if they weren't about to crash he could see the man removing various garments of his clothing; his tie, his suit jacket, his belt, all of them tossed behind them to fall forever in the bottomless chasms they careened over. With a screeching of metal on metal, they halted, and the man gave Hagrid one more nod, stepping off of the cart with the goblin, tapping his foot impatiently as the goblin opened the door. The vault opened and revealed a whole lot of nothing.

Harry couldn't see it from where he stood next to Hagrid in the cart, but the man went to the left inside his vault, palming a secret brick on the wall, revealing another vault within the vault no one could see from outside. He went in, stuffed a bunch of galleons into his bottomless pockets, and exited. The proceeding visitation to Harry's and the Hogwarts' vault went by smoothly, the man only standing in the cart calmly as both made their stop. He'd removed his dress shirt, now, revealing a white under shirt. On the man's exposed forearms Harry could see numerous scars, some of which looked suspiciously patterned, as though they were…self-inflicted. He did not ask if they were; only a truly rude person would.

When they reached the upper levels once more, the man had realized the removal of his clothing and pulled another set out of his back pocket, putting on another shirt and belt and tie and jacket. As he looped the tie in a full Windsor, Hagrid spoke.

"Doing alrigh' there, Fullbuster?" Their eyes met, Gray's eyes widening only slightly at being spoken to. He sighed, tugging on the tie and completing its tying.

"I'm just peachy." Clearly, he was not. As he stepped away from them he paused, looking back, but instead of looking at Hagrid he focused on Harry. "Tell…tell Dumbledore to give me a ring sometime soon-er, an owl, if he'd prefer." He waved a hand, walking away. "I forget myself; Dumbledore's above using muggle tools."

As Harry followed Hagrid out of Gringotts he asked the question that had been on the tip of his tongue the entire time.

"Who was that?" Hagrid spun around and bent at the waist, giving Harry his best stern expression.

"That, Harry, was Gray Fullbuster. You see him again you stay away. He's dangerous when he's unhappy, and he's usually just so." He leaned back up to full height, scratching his beard. "He's a Magical Tutor. Teaches kids who can't get into Hogwarts, or disabled children, or ones who don't have the money. I heard the magic he teaches is…different." HE shrugged, turning away. "Jus' forget about him. Better if you never see him again."

(^-^)

Never in his life had Lucius Malfoy been so ashamed at the birth of his second child, Endymion. At birth it was already apparent the child had no capability for magic. IT was utter humiliation. Twice, just twice, Lucius had considered killing his own son, get rid of the blemish of his perfect life. The elder, Draco, would be attending school very soon and would no doubt be another Slytherin. But Endymion would not. He would be at home, ten years old, his only non-humiliating feature the good looks he would be sure to have in his later years. White hair, the same as the rest of the males in the family, and already gaining the good old pure-blooded snobbery that was a requirement as part of the family. Yet, he was a squib.

It was only by chance Lucius heard of this 'Gray Fullbuster.' Rumored to teach magic to those who could not attend school for whatever reason, and also teach them a different style of magic; wandless magic no less. A chance, perhaps. Perhaps this different magic would be viable for Endymion. If his son was to be a failure, there would be no harm in trying outlandish methods that could have only outlandish results.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, the gravel went beneath Lucius' boots as he approached the bar where Gray Fullbuster was rumored to frequent on his moody nights. His cane was held in a white knuckled grip, not that anyone could see it through his gloves, as he pushed the door open. Like any other bar, the conversations quieted for a moment for everyone to give him a cursory glance, and then continued like he wasn't even there. His own eyes searched for less than a second before finding a gentleman at the bar with articles of clothing dropped haphazardly around him. Totally naked from the waist up wearing only one shoe, black hair and muttering words in a foreign language under his breath; Gray Fullbuster. The creak of wood sounded like an avalanche as the man of the Malfoy House moved towards the bar, setting his cane to the side with a gentle tap and taking a seat next to Gray. There was a chill in the bar, so Malfoy didn't bother to remove any articles of clothing, including his gloves and coat.

"Gray Fullbuster, I presume?" No response whatsoever; totally ignored. Lucius tried again, but the man only shifted slightly to rest his chin on the bar, continuing to mumble. The bleached blonde almost called it a waste of time and walked away, but paused when he heard a few coherent words mixed in.

"Natsu…motion sickness…" Gray snorted, leaning back and slapping his thigh. "He used to…" He burped. "Lay down here, cause it got rid of the-hic-symptoms." The words were all slurred together, but Lucius ascertained a basic understanding of what Gray was talking about; someone he used to know had motion sickness, and used his lap as a pillow to calm himself. It was weird, it didn't really make any sense, but it was all Lucius had to work with at the moment.

"Yeah." He said, leaning towards Gray. His next words were a leap of faith he hoped would work; he'd heard the word 'train' several times before this sentence. "He was always the worst on trains, wasn't he."

A barking laugh bounced off the walls as Gray tossed his head back and slapped the bar with an open palm.

"No-no, he was worst when-hic-when he got on a boat." He continued laughing and laughing, until it died down and he rested his chin on the bar one more, his fifth bottle of firewhisky an inch from his nose. When he spoke again, it was disturbingly clear and concise, as though he wasn't intoxicated in the slightest.

"You never met Natsu, though. He was a flame-brain, a fire-spitter, a dimwitted numb skull with shifty eyes and pink hair." Lucius blinked, unsure of whether he should respond, but the man continued speaking, picking up the bottle of firewhisky and swirling it around. "Then there was Lucy. She was just a blonde bimbo, through and through, up until the moment when it counted. Strongest Celestial Mage in all Fiore, that's who she was. Tits were nice too. And Erza-heh, the Queen." He paused. "My…queen." He took a swig and smacked his lips. "Always in a suit of armor, even when she was naked. Red hair like blood, how she got her last name, Scarlet." Another sigh escaped his lips, and his bleary eyes turned to Lucius. It seemed every sigh lowered the temperature a degree. "Lucius Malfoy, head of the Malfoy Manor, nobleman and governor. Your son's a squib. You want me to teach him." He paused.

"Will you?" Lucius asked, filling the silence. He tried not to be unnerved at how this stranger knew exactly why he'd come. Gray leaned back, stretching his arms above his head. This motion revealed the scars that riddled his torso and arms, and indeed, there were a few that looked like they might have been-

"For a nobleman such as yourself, sure. I am in need of lodgings at the moment; my landlord decided he didn't want me stumbling back up the stairs every night, waking up everyone else in the building. Give me a residence in your house while I teach your son, a small fee per every lesson, and I will make him a Wizard." He held out his hand and Lucius shook it, thinking only of how large the 'small fee' would be. Lucius was too deep in thought to notice the thin layer of frost covering his palm.

(^-^)

At the top of a hill with dark clouds above it sat Malfoy Manor. It was, in a word, huge. Massive gothic arches and gargoyles furnished the outside and roof, and the ceiling in the foyer was a good thirty feet high. Gray tugged on his cufflinks as he entered, only a pace and a half behind his newest employer. He'd sobered up, forced himself to, and was currently dealing with a wicked hangover; his mood, usually irritable at its best, was downright seething.

The foyer was like a church hall, but without the blessings of a priest. Green flames loomed in chandeliers above, and a woman with gray, white, and black hair entered in from what looked to be the living room to greet them.

"Lucius." She intoned, stepping towards him and holding out her hand, which was promptly pecked and given a gentle squeeze as the married couple gave each other a fleeting smile. She turned to face Gray, eyes scanning up and down his figure for a moment before stepping towards him and giving a gentle nod. "Narcissa Malfoy, Lady of the House."

Each word was grating on Gray's ears, but he bore with it, for the sake of shelter and monetary compensation.

"Gray Fullbuster. I'll be tutoring your son."

"Draco?" Narcissa asked, blinking, glancing back at Lucius, who shook his head.

"He's here for Endymion. Mr. Fullbuster teaches a…different magic." Narcissa gave them both a peculiar look before striding past Lucius back into the living room.

"Endymion." Gray heard from where he was still in the foyer, watching Lucius remove his gloves and overcoat, not bothering to do the same. A childish voice answered his mother's, for a few moments a conversation, and then Narcissa came back into the foyer, toting a child with one of her hands wrapped around his. "Endymion, this is Mr. Fullbuster. He's going to be teaching you magic."

For a ten year old, Endymion was skinny. He wore a custom fit children's suit, all of it pitch black, in utter contrast to his pale skin and bleach blonde hair. He stared up at Gray with green-blue eyes, frowning all the while. It was already clear that, though to a lesser extent because he was a squib, his parents had still drilled a maturity and sense of clout into him only a pureblooded family would deem fit for a child of ten years old to maintain.

"Hello." He said, with no cheeriness present in the voice. Gray, for his part, gave little Endymion a stare for a moment before turning and walking over to the coat rack where Lucius had put his own coat.

"I am not a patient man." He said as he shook off the jacket. "I will be teaching you magic, among other things." He put the coat on the rack, his hands then moving to unlace his tie. "You will not question my methods, you will listen to every word I say, and you will do your best in everything I tell you to do." The tie was slung over the coat rack, and Gray removed his cuff links next, turning slightly to give Endymion the first of many cold-hearted glares. "Your parents pay me to train you, not to coddle you. Do not make them, or myself, waste our time or money." The dress shirt Gray wore was dropped to the floor, and he turned away from the coat rack, walking back towards them. His gaze did not focus on Endymion; instead it was focused on Lucius.

"I am in dire need of rest to rid me of my hangover. I will commence teaching your son tomorrow morning, at sunrise, though I will be up before then." He yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Where is my room?"

"Upstairs, three rooms to the left. Directly across from Endymion's." Lucius answered, pointing to the staircase. In less than five seconds the man was gone, leaving a shell-shocked Narcissa and Endymion to stare at the place he'd previously stood.

"That man is going to teach my son-our son-"

"He's renown as the finest-"

"Finest what? Child abuser?" Their argument escalated as Endymion left the room, following the man's footsteps up the stairs, going to left, arriving at his own room, and entering. He felt tired just hearing that man speak. IT was like ice being scraped with every word the man spoke.

The child's room had a large four post bed, large windows on the far wall to provide light during the daytime. There was a closet filled with clothes only the richest of the rich could afford, along with numerous toys and what-nots his mother insisted upon. Endymion sighed. He wasn't stupid. HE knew he was a squib, a magically inept wizard, so how was he supposed to be taught magic if he couldn't even use it?

(^-^)

Endymion was shook awake. Bleary eyes opened to find his mother trying to wake him, looking as ragged as she had ever been; it was clear she didn't enjoy getting up this early.

"I'll have Mr. Fullbuster wake you up next time, he can wake you for his own damn lessons…" Never, ever, had Endymion heard his mother curse. In his shock, he barely registered what had happened between waking from sleep and ending up on the porch of the manor, fully dressed and feeling chilly anyways. His mother stood next to him in her nightgown with a thick fur robe thrown over it, nonetheless rubbing her arms with the frigid air. It was England, after all; the mornings were always frightfully cold.

But it was a bit colder today, for some reason.

"Mr. Fullbuster said not to give you breakfast today, said it wouldn't stay down for very long and there wouldn't be any point." Endymion wanted to speak out, say how ridiculous this entire thing was, but a blast of cold wind prevented him from doing so, and Gray loomed before them not a moment later.

He was totally naked except for the boxers covering his privates.

"Narcissa, it's cold out. Head back inside and get yourself a cup of tea." That was all she needed to leave Endymion alone in the hands of a man she met yesterday. For a few moments, there was silence. Gray just skimming over Endymion with his eyes, Endymion doing the same and tracing the patterns of scars that riddled Gray's torso and legs and arms. There was a curious blue tattoo on Gray's chest, and a massive cross shaped scar on his lower abdomen. Finally, someone spoke.

"Are you really going to teach me magic? I'm a squib; I can't do magic." At this, Gray frowned further than he already was, and reached out towards Endymion with one muscled arm. A heavy hand rested on the mop of blonde hair on top of his head, and Gray lowered himself to bring his eyes level with the boy's.

"I will teach you a magic few can survive using, much less learning." A finger poked Endymion in the chest. "Your magical core is faulty, but it's there. It just needs a jolt to get it started." The finger on Endymion's chest became an open palm, and he was suddenly thrown to the floor of the porch on his back, pinned with Gray's full weight against his chest. Pain rippled through his body as something cracked inside him. A billowing gale of wind and raw energy spasmed out of him, focusing on where Gray's hand pressed against his chest, and then just as soon as it had came, it was gone.

"There is a common misconception among the study of squibs." Gray said, standing back up and letting Endymion struggle to rise on his own, talking as though he hadn't just shoved a ten year old to the ground. "Squibs still have magic, but it's not malleable. Their Origin is unfixed; they can't use it the same way you modern wizards do with your fancy wands. They're like…me." Endymion managed to open an eye, finding Gray with his hands on his hips, in full lecture mode. "I've fixed your magical core, but you still can't use a wand, nor any of this other fancy magic you English Wizards can do; it's not in your blood. Instead, you'll be using what I teach you. Get up. You're wasting my time."

Endymion managed to get up onto shaky feet. He felt like crawling back into bed and falling asleep for a few days; never had he felt such a terrible pain. But it was gone, and he knew the man in front of him wouldn't let him go back to bed. Gray didn't spare him a second glance, turning and walking down the stairs off the porch.

"Come on, deadlast; we're just getting started." The boy followed till they were a good hundred feet from the house. It was cold enough that Endymion's teeth were chattering, but Gray looked to be totally fine. The man spun suddenly, and the boy almost ran into his legs, stopping and looking up at Gray with uncertainty.

"Right. I think this is good enough. Strip."

"W-What?" An iron fist imbedded itself in Endymion's stomach, sending him back a few yards in a sprawling heap on the ground. He struggled to get back the wind that'd been knocked out of him when his collar was tugged and he was hoisted off the ground.

"I said, strip. Don't question my methods. You're either taking off your clothes on your own, or I'm doing it for you." With a thump he dropped Endymion to the ground, and the boy hesitantly untied the tie around his neck, glancing up at Gray with an overbearing question or three in mind. But the man had already walked away, looking off into the distance for something Endymion couldn't see. It wasn't long before Endymion had folded his clothes in a neat pile on the ground and was wearing only boxers, the same as the man before him. His entire body had goose bumps from the cold, and he was fervently rubbing his arms to try and heat them up.

Gray spun on him, suddenly.

"RUN!" He shouted, charging towards Endymion with a look in his eyes that left no question in the boy's mind; this man was clearly insane, and his father was a fool for hiring him. Having no choice in the matter, the boy moved with great haste, trying to ignore the biting cold as he padded barefoot on the grass as fast as he could. Ten minutes of this chase passed, and it was quite clear that the man was not intending to actually catch him, but to keep him running. That was not as heartening as it seemed; he didn't know what Mr. Fullbuster would do if he actually caught up at the lackadaisical pace he was going right now.

An hour passed, and Endymion could not keep moving anymore. His legs were jelly, he felt numb all over, and he was shivering on the ground, face down.

"Done already?" Gray mused, sitting down next to him. It was utterly disturbing how unfazed he was when it came to the biting cold that surrounded them. "When I was your age-"He cut himself off, looking away. Endymion managed to quirk an eyebrow at this; his tutor had a history he wanted to keep secret, or at least try to. The boy yelped when he was yanked up from the ground. "Move. You'll keep warm if you move." His arm was pulled over Gray's hip so he was upright but the man did not carry him, forcing him to walk alongside him back to the house. The man's skin was just as cold, if not colder, than the temperature of the air around them.

"E-Endymion?" Narcissa squeaked out at the sight of her son's pallid and mostly revealed features. She spun on Gray, who was still holding the boy up. "What have you-what did you do to him, you-"

"I have begun to teach your son the strongest Ice magic the world has ever seen." Gray let go of Endymion, unceremoniously dropping him to the floor on his rump, then turned to loom over him. "From now on you will wear nothing more than the bare minimum of clothing. If you heat up all of what we did this morning will be for nothing." He turned and walked towards the stairs, pausing just as his first foot touched the first stair. He didn't look back, but spoke.

"I expected you to drop after the first five minutes. Keep it up, and you might actually become a wizard."

Narcissa either did not hear the words coming out of the tutor's mouth or blatantly ignored him; within ten seconds Endymion had a blanket wrapped around him and was being ushered into the living room, where the fire place would warm his frigid bones. But the sparse praise the boy had received was more hope than he had all of his life; 'you might actually become a wizard.'

Halfway to the door he tugged himself out of his mother's grasp and shrugged the blanket off of himself. She gave him a scandalized look when he slapped away the hand trying to throw the blanket back on him.

"M-M-M-Mr. F-Fullbusssster s-said-"

"I don't care what that man said. You are warming up-I'm not going to have you catch a cold, much less freeze to death, just because of some deranged teaching scam."

"I made sure the temperature outside was safe." Speak of the devil; Gray was walking past them into the living room towards the kitchen, now wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt with a odd golden symbol on it. The same symbol on his chest, Endymion realized, rubbing his arms for warmth. "I made towers of ice on the property before dawn, regulating the temperature. The entire time we were outside it was exactly 41 degrees Fahrenheit. I wasn't going to start training below freezing; that'll come later." He disappeared out of sight into the kitchen, and the faint chill that had come with his passing disappeared as well. Narcissa let out a quiet snarl and went to screech at her husband, wherever he was, leaving Endymion alone in the foyer with nothing on him but his undershorts.

"This is too weird." He said.

(^_^)

The shaking had stopped, and Endymion wasn't sure whether that was a bad thing or not. He'd ask Mr. Fullbuster if he should be worried, but every time he tried to summon the courage to go downstairs and enter the kitchen (Gray was currently cooking lunch for himself) he found himself pushed away by an invisible voice named 'common sense.' His father had heard quite the lecture from his wife on 'child safety' and how 'that man will be the death of our son,' but the elder Malfoy shrugged it all off.

"The solution is right in front of us." He said, jerking a thumb towards the kitchen where Gray was while he and Narcissa sat in the living room. "He'll teach him magic, and if he fails the boy won't be a problem anymore." This earned him further scolding, but they had both resigned to fuming in opposite corners of the manor. Currently, Endymion sat in his room, which had every blanket and pillow and spare clothing and anything that could keep him warm taken away.

"Unnecessary." Gray had said.

Clad only in a pair of shorts (not just his undershorts) and a thin t-shirt, he sat on the floor, staring at the wall, feeling particularly bored. His tutor had pushed him, this morning. Every muscle in his body ached. The clock on the wall said 11:00 in the morning; that meant he'd managed to sleep for almost five hours after the training had finished. But no matter how much he wanted he couldn't sleep any longer; he was too tired to do so. He had nothing to do except play with his toys but his mind kept floating back to the deranged face of the man chasing him up and down the property earlier. There was a voice inside his head saying, screaming for more training, to become stronger.

The wall was blank and gray, and very gloomy. With a sigh he stood up and trudged out of his room into the hallway, where the temperature had been lowered a few degrees by the resident Iceman to further attune him to the cold. His room was only three degrees warmer; 47 degrees. Here, it was 44, just three degrees above the biting temperature outside. Briefly, he wondered how his parents were staying warm. There was a scent drifting up towards him from downstairs, one of foreign food and deliciousness. It called, and he answered, hopping down the steps with as much speed as his body could muster. Whatever voice that had ushered him away before had been deleted at the prospect of food, and he was in the doorway before he knew what he was doing.

Gray stood by the stove, spatula in one hand and other on the handle of a cast iron pan. The tantalizing smells were coming from whatever he was looking down at. His eyes shifted over towards Endymion and the boy wondered whether he'd be kicked out of his own kitchen just for meeting that cold stare.

"Hungry, huh?" The man shook the pan, causing whatever inside to sizzle loudly. He jerked the spatula towards the table, dripping whatever oil he was using to cook on the floor. "Take a seat." Endymion did as he was told, though he didn't quite understand these proceedings. Wasn't Mr. Fullbuster his tutor? Why was he cooking when they had house elves to do that for them-much less offering his own food to his student? Endymion stared at his back as he cooked, shifting in his chair every few seconds, discontented.

"You're burning a hole between my shoulder blades." Gray intoned, glowering over his shoulder.

Is he psychic?

"Being silent is for the weak, so speak, lest you die in less than a week~." He said in a singsong voice, almost mockingly. He continued staring back at Endymion even as he shifted the pan in his hand, so Endymion blurted out the first thing on his mind.

"What are you cooking?"

"Hmm?" The question was unexpected, and Gray turned and looked down at the pan before answering. "Old…old family recipe." He turned the stove off and walked over to the cabinets, pulling out two plates and then dishing whatever he'd cooked onto them. Silently, he waved a hand over the plates and they were blasted with a freezing chill, making them low enough temperature that they wouldn't mess up Endymion's training. With a rattle a plate covered in what looked like steak and eggs was dropped before the boy, and he frowned at it.

"It looks like steak and eggs." He said, simply. He looked around for a moment.

"What?" Though he didn't look it, Gray sounded irritated.

"What about eating utensils?"

"Get them yourself. There will not always be a midget-sized elf or a servant to spoon feed you." Gray already had a fork in hand and was chowing down on the grub. Blinking, Endymion got to his feet and walked over to the drawer where the silverware was, pulled out a fork knife and spoon and then sat back down. At the first bite he moaned like a woman in the midst of her orgasm. Gray only quirked an eyebrow. In half of a minute most of the food on the plate was gone, and Endymion was only trying to comprehend how what looked like steak and eggs didn't taste like steak and eggs; it tasted better. Though, the food itself was almost frigid in temperature. Perhaps it was affecting his taste buds?

"Everyone thinks its steak and eggs, but it's not." Gray muttered, almost in conversation with Endymion's thoughts.

Did he just read my mind?

"It's actually kangaroo. And there's a plethora of spices from all around the world in every bite. Plus, those eggs are actually jellyfish."

Endymion gagged, dry heaving off to the side. The man snorted and crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. He'd already finished eating.

"Oi, brat. Pay attention to me; life lesson #1 from your tutor, Mr. Fullbuster." The boy froze mid heave and stared up at Gray with curious eyes. "If it looks good, eat it. If it tastes good, it eat it. If it smells good, eat it. If it doesn't look, taste, or smell good, eat it anyways. Food is survival; fine dining is luxury. This will be one of the other things I teach you." Endymion blinked.

"What's that?"

"Cooking."

(^_^)

Narcissa had had enough of skulking around in the library. She'd scold her husband once more and get that ice cube of a man out of their home, away from her precious Endymion. She marched out of the library with intent to screech, only to have her banshee wail die in her throat upon entering the kitchen, where her husband sat at the table, drinking coffee.

At the counter of the kitchen was her son, Endymion, and the yeti, Gray. Both held knives in their hands, both wore aprons (Gray wore nothing but the apron) and Gray was lecturing her son on how to dice onions.

"Vertical, keep it vertical." Gray demonstrated the motion slowly, and then Endymion repeated it, slower. "Don't cut into the root, just about three/quarters towards it."

"What is going on?" She managed, gathering everyone's attention. Lucius shot up from the table and was in front of her with a second cup of coffee in less than a moment, swirling her around to view the teacher and student better.

"This would be part of Mr. Fullbuster's other lessons, aside from magical studies." She looked from the knife her son held, to her son's face, to Gray, then to her husband, who was smirking slightly. With a sigh, she took a deep drink of coffee.

"He's tutoring our son to be an icy housemaid." She left the room, leaving everyone else to wonder whether she approved of the situation or not. The pair continued their work without a hitch, and Lucius returned to the kitchen table, paper in hand. It was only a few weeks until the school year started. Draco was currently visiting the fellow pure-blood family, the Greengrass. It was only protocol that he acquire a few peons before the school year began, and those of the Greengrass family were prime subjects; Daphne would make an excellent puppet for whatever schemes Draco wished to perform.

A thought occurred to Lucius, who immediately wondered why he hadn't thought of it before. He sent a fleeting glance towards Gray, who was still in the midst of working with his son, and coughed.

"I never had the chance to ask, Mr. Fullbuster…" He began, trying to appear nonchalant by examining an article about thestral breeding. "Are you a pure-blooded wizard?"

There was a silence in which Lucius wondered whether he needed to ask the question at all; this man had come into his home, sure, but he was paving new horizons for a squib of a son. But it was answered nonetheless.

"I don't know." Beat. "My parents died when I was young; I was subsequently raised by a wizard who found my half-dead carcass under what remained of my home. Why, does it matter?" He glared over his shoulder at Lucius, who practically froze at the frigid stare. The blonde found he could not hold eye contact, and looked away, feeling rather ashamed, even if the man before him was of undeterminable blood.

"I suppose not."

No response. Gray went back to working with Endymion, who had heard the entire thing and was wondering what would have happened if his parents were dead too. He'd been taught pureblood prejudice, sure, but he hadn't even thought to ask Gray whether he was pureblooded or not. His parents had taught him the prejudice, but not to the extent they had with his older brother. Truly, did it matter? The boy's gaze shifted from the onion he was working on to the man next to him.

Gray Fullbuster emanated the cold, fierce, frosty power of a blizzard. His eyes were sharper than icicles and his mannerisms cut into the people around him like blades of ice. No, it didn't matter if he was pure-blooded or not; he was Gray Fullbuster, and he was frigid. That was enough.

Hours passed and Endymion had a basic understanding of different kitchen skills.

"At dawn, we train in the cold. Then we cook. It's a skill you'll need when I step up the training." The sun had set, and it was around 8:30. "Now, I will impart the basics of meditation to you." They were sitting in the living room on the stone floor, crisscross-applesauce. Gray reached out and poked Endymion in the chest. The boy felt a tiny jolt of energy rattle his frame. "Your core is weak, but it isn't out of commission any longer. You have to strengthen it." Gray leaned back, revealing all of his totally naked glory, putting his hands on his knees. Endymion had been averting his eyes since the man had removed his apron, and had gotten used to looking anywhere but 'there.'

"Imagine yourself in the tundra. Icy wind billows against your back, your body slowly covering itself in ice. The sun is down, and there is darkness all around-except for you. You are the sole source of light, the one power present in the universe, and you are cold."

This speech developed slowly, like water cooling down to a freezing temperature. Endymion's breathing settled at an easy pace, and Gray's words were all he heard. At the sound of a snap his eyes opened and he jerked back, surprised. Gray was in the process of getting to his feet.

"It's nine thirty. Sleep." He went upstairs, and Endymion followed behind. They separated at the junction in the hallway between their doors, and the boy found everything including his bed removed from his room. He didn't feel as dejected as he should, going from sleeping in a warm bed one day to settling on the stone floor the next.

He'd started to get used to the cold.

(^_^)

I fixed the entire format thing. Yay. Enjoy your emphasis, and check out the next chapter. When I upload it. Which should be soon.