Disclaimer: Don't own it, but would love to. Do participate and appreciate and hope it goes on forever more.

Author's Note: I have added a slash tag onto the intro of this story as asked by muggle628. I assumed everyone would know it was slash but there you go. For those of you who have reviewed, my thanks. Please, feel free to review again, any time. All feedback is gratefully accepted. For those of you who, like me, hate abandoned stories, this one is complete but is still being betaed so it will all be posted, that I do promise. Here's a call to some brave soul. I need some information on Indian women and their role in modern society, both in rural India and in the cities. Part of this story is set in New Delhi and may need a few corrections. If anyone is game, just email me at my usual address lesdowich gmail . com (just take out the spaces). Thanks again for your support and so on with the story!

oo0oo

The Farsee house-elf was shocked when Harry came down the stairs. The night before, it had put out anti-apparation barriers to keep the intruder out. That had happened to Harry before, hence the warded and keyed entry space he set up around his trunk. He ignored the disgruntled elf as he wandered through the rooms in the upper storey, marking the position of every suspicious artefact he found on the map he had constructed on a three dimensional tablet. Most of the magical items were simply neutral, neither Dark nor Light; rather, everyday items found in a wizarding home. One mirror, for example, was somewhat Dark; giving insults and derogatory comments to any who looked into it.

The house-elf trailed after him, wringing its hands and glowering at his back as he surveyed the five floors, one after the other. The attics were a minefield of discarded junk and broken furnishings, a number of items registering as dangerously Dark. Harry made a notation of their positions and earmarked them for future disabling or disposal to the Department of Mysteries, if they were evil enough.

By the end of the day, he was pleasantly tired and ready for a meal, a bath and a long glass of wine. He was very tempted to call Nash and have a chat but, as the other man was coming out to the house tomorrow, he decided to forego the pleasure, settling for an early night in his trunk flat with a meal apparated in from Linguini's in Soho; wizarding take-away at it's best!

oo0oo

Nash arrived at the house the next morning with a basket of food and a flask of chilled pumpkin juice. Brian greeted him at the apparition point and ushered him into the garden with an air of suppressed excitement. The taller man smiled down at the blond's enthusiasm, amused that this American was so brash, yet quite sweet as he carefully conducted a tour of the greenhouses and overgrown garden beds. He grinned as Brian pointed out plants and flowers, displaying a much fractured grasp of both Herbology and potions. He completely missed the most significant find in the tangle of greenery and brilliantly hued flowers but Nash's keen and educated gaze found it. However, it was so delightful to be fussed over and treated like someone extremely special and desirable, that Nash merely quirked a lip and allowed himself to be guided through the wilderness, Brian's warm hand in his.

"You know, this is really nice," Brian murmured, as they lay side by side under a flowering horsechestnut tree in the hayfield that had once been the East lawn. He had cast both a wind blocking charm and a temperature control charm as the weather tended to heat and cool at the whim of any passing cloud.

"It is," Nash replied softly, rolling his head over to look at his companion.

Brian raised himself on one elbow and leaned in to gently kiss the dark plum coloured lips so temptingly close. Nash tasted of pumpkin juice and the caramel cake they had eaten for dessert. Opening his mouth, he allowed Brian's insistent tongue to enter, sucking softly on the muscular member. Brian's free hand tangled in his thick, blue-black hair, cupping his cheek, his thumb gently stroking the high, arched bone. A shudder worked its way up Nash's spine. The tightness in his lower body grew hotter and harder as Brian leaned in and rubbed his chest against Nash's.

Without conscious awareness, both of Nash's arms moved to wrap around Brian's muscular torso, his hands snaking up under the Muggle shirt to stroke his spine and up to curve over his shoulders, holding him close. Someone moaned softly, and a wandless spell removed shirts and jumpers to a pile on the edge of the blanket. Harry felt Nash's lips curve under his and wondered if the other man had cast the spell or if it had been his own magic having a bit of a rebellion again. It did that sometimes and had completely freaked out the one Muggle partner he had ever taken.

Nash's hands stroked over naked shoulders and snaked between their two bodies to stroke his chest as a pleased hum broke out. Harry pulled back slightly so he could study the look of contented arousal the other wore as Nash carded his hands through thick chest hair that Harry had developed. Opening his eyes, Nash looked up at the blond and glanced down to watch his fingers toy with a small, pale nipple nestled in dark hair.

"I usually charm the majority away…" Brian said ruefully, as the other man continued to draw paths on his skin.

"That would be a waste. I like hairy men," Nash assured him, continuing his stroking over the curve of his waist and around higher to cup a shoulder blade.

"I prefer my men bare," Brian confessed, glancing down approvingly at the smooth golden expanse merely highlighted and decorated by two dark brown nipples that crinkled as he blew gently over them. Nash moaned and allowed his eyelids to flutter closed as the other man pressed a thigh against the bulge in his trousers. It felt fantastic as they were well aligned, hardness to hard thigh, Brian's leg pressed between his, his between Brian's. The tangle suited them both as they stroked and slowly moved against each other.

"Please," Nash murmured, sliding his hands over the muscular bulge of Brian's backside, cupping the cheeks through the linen of his slacks. He squeezed lightly, eliciting another pained groan from the man covering him so sweetly.

Brian tossed his head back and allowed himself to press hard into Nash in response to his kneading hands, then controlled himself once again. "No, not here, not like this," his husky voice whispered, stifling the note of protest with his lips. "I don't want to…"

"Am I not…" Nash began to move, but Brian held him in place with his greater mass.

"Hush, be still," Brian hurriedly assured him. "It's not that you're not good enough, but that you're too good for a quick roll in the hay. Nash, please, I-I am a bit odd about my partners; I always prefer to take it slow and… develop a relationship, not just have a quick fuck. Sorry, it's just the way I am."

The taller man stopped his struggles to get away and grabbed a handful of the thick hair to lift Brian's face out of his shoulder to study his flushed and embarrassed expression before he relaxed. "You are a romantic," he half accused as he repositioned Brian's mouth to take advantage of it in a slow, gentle kiss. When they both came up for air, Nash continued, "Some years ago I was involved with a man in India. We had been seeing each other for quite some time and sleeping together too, but we never went out anywhere in public. When I demanded a reason for his reluctance to be seen with me, he said, and I quote, 'Goodness Gracious, Sarasvat, you are fine for a quick fuck but I would not want my family to know about a half-breed like you!' My mother was English and my father Indian, which made me good enough to fuck, but not good enough for introduction to the family."

"Oh, Sarasvat - is that what your family call you? - I'm so sorry. It's as stupid as the Pure Blood versus half-blood versus Mudblood debate that nearly destroyed this country a few years ago. Load of rubbish, if you ask me, blind prejudice always is. If you are as good a person as you seem to be, then I would be proud to introduce you to my family, if I had any that is, which I don't really. My parents were killed in the First Voldemort War and I was sent off to live in California with an aunt and uncle, who have since deceased."

Nash relaxed further under him and gave a small sigh. "Sounds familiar. My parents died when I was young and I was sent to live with an uncle for a long time. Then I went to live with my aunt in India. It was fun and we served each other's needs, I gaining a family, she gaining a visible man, which is very important in India, believe me."

"Tell me about it, growing up in India, I mean, must have been very different to England or America," Brian asked, content to lie beside him and listen to his soft, musical voice spin tales of a distant and colourful land, until the sun sank below the horizon and the temperature control charm began to fade away.

Packing up the remains of their picnic, Brian apparated them back to Nash's home where they spent a pleasant evening cooking dinner together and sharing heated kisses without stepping over the line they had mutually drawn in the sand. It was wonderfully arousing and hugely unsatisfying but both agreed to let the relationship develop slowly, even if it killed them, Brian complained laughingly as he gave Nash a last, lingering kiss and then pulled back slowly to apparate back to Farsee Manor.

oo0oo

It had taken nearly a week to work out how the Dark magic had formed the wards around Farsee Manor. Once they were identified, Harry had to work out a way to remove them without completely exposing the manor and its surrounding lands to all who cared to look. That would have created havoc with the Muggle road system that happily wound around and through the protected space without ever touching it. If all the wards were removed, then the A23 would develop a gap of about three miles in its length which would be utterly disastrous for the cars and for the manor, through which the road actually ran.

There were three layers of magic to deal with. The inner layer was the oldest of the new wards. The runes had been infused with blood from the family to ensure the ward was strong. Unfortunately, whoever had inlaid the anchoring point, failed to create it by hand but had used Transfiguration magic to build the stone cairn in the cellars. Over the course of the years, the Transfiguration had slowly disintegrated and the carefully-carved runes had simply reverted to rough stone. To bring the whole elaborate warding structure down, Harry merely broke down the blood. He removed all trace of it from the stone with a potion that dissolved every particle of organic matter, then a spell that dispelled the magic harmlessly into the ground. As soon as the binding magic was freed, the wards let out a shriek and popped like a soap bubble with barely a ripple.

The second layer was harder to remove as it had been created with the sacrifice of a human being, a Muggle girl who had gone missing some thirty years before. Harry had researched carefully, using the local Muggle newspapers and by talking to the older members of the village. The local bobby of the time was living retired and he was quite happy to tell Brian all about the Collins girl who went for a walk one evening, supposedly with her boyfriend, and was never seen again. The boyfriend always swore he had never been there that night and had been able to produce dozens of witnesses to confirm that he had been in London, appearing on stage that evening, confirmed by everyone in the theatre, including the cast, crew and director, not to mention the audience. The mystery had never been solved but Harry knew it was simple enough to Polyjuice up as the boyfriend and spirit the unfortunate girl off to her death in the Manor's cellars.

Once he had the identity of the sacrifice, it was a little easier to call her ghost out of the foundations and have it point him to her unmarked and widely scattered grave. She had been tortured to death most horribly, her blood drained, her body ground to a paste and blended with a potion. Then the resultant lump was recombined with her blood to make a paint to inscribe the foundation pillars of the Manor with runes of protection. The magic used to infuse the 'paint' had been donated from most of the family members alive at that time, willingly or forced he did not know. He hoped it was forced but suspected most of the participants in the ceremony had been willing, making it harder for him to banish the ward. Still, if he removed the magic from the girl's shade, then he might be able to bargain with her and the magic as separate entities. Divide and conquer was the name of the game, and a life and death game it was!

As soon as he entered the hidden room, Brian knew he had come to the right place, the magic and the tortured and very angry spirit trying to shunt him out, out of the cellar room, out of the manor and out of the grounds. His own magic met the inrush of mixed magic and enveloped it in a shell of protection which was exhausting but had to be done. Once the magic was corralled, the girl's ghost managed to manifest itself, the marks of her death still unhealed and raw on her body.

"No more, please, no more!" She begged and sobbed, insubstantial hands held out pleadingly.

"I am trying to free you, I promise," Harry told her sympathetically, trying not to empathise too much as it would weaken his resolve.

"Try harder!" she snarled, raising a hand with nails now turned to claws. "I want out of here! Free me, now!"

"I can't free you now; the magic must agree to let you go. What I need is your willingness to leave once I have cut the magical bindings. As soon as you are free, you must agree to go to the Light or the magic will drag you down again and you will never, ever get another chance to leave for eternity."

The spirit gave him a calculating look. "And forgo my revenge?" she asked slyly.

Harry smiled with equal slyness. "If you leave, then the magic will have no anchor point and will have to dispel which means the ward it fuels will also dissipate and the house will no longer benefit from its protection. It will be defenceless; how's that for revenge?"

A beatific smile curved the spectral lips. "Agreed. As soon as you free me, I will go to the Light and leave this place without my protection."

"So it is spoken, so it is moot." The curl of Harry's magic fuelled the words and made them an unbreakable promise. It was done.

"When?"

"As soon as I can, I promise!"

Backing out of the room, Harry freed the magic from his thrall and felt it coil around the girl's spirit once again. She shrieked and began to fade, pulled apart by spectral hands to be infused back into the very stones of the cellar once again. Sighing deeply, Harry returned to the ground floor and shut the cellar doors. He was not surprised to see how dark it had become as he stumbled out of the cellar complex and made his unsteady way back to his trunk. A meal and a sleep were in order before he was prepared to deal with the last and most ancient layer of wards, the original warding.

oo0oo

In preparation for the second to last part of his contract, Harry took the day for himself, using it to sleep in late then have a leisurely breakfast. Using his cell phone he rang the Chemist shop and arranged to meet Nash for dinner that evening, telling him to dress up. After a lazy afternoon of reading and dozing, Brian prepared for his date, wearing his best robes and making sure his glamour was full strength before picking up his wand and checking that his galleons pouch was attached to his belt. He had booked a table at Robspiere's and he hoped Nash liked French cuisine.

Nash had taken the request to heart, putting on his best robes and making sure he had his best jewellery on, too. Brian's eyes widened, then glazed in being met at the door by the most exotic and beautiful version of his friend he had ever seen.

"My God, you look good enough to eat," he breathed involuntarily and Nash blushed, the pink highlighting his golden beauty as he managed a demure smile.

"You said dress up," he reminded, pleased by his date's reaction.

"You look beautiful. I will be the envy of all tonight," Brian remarked, offering his arm with a very slight bow.

Nash shut the door, murmured a locking and warding charm before he took the proffered arm. Brian asked if he was ready and at his affirmative nod, the stockier wizard Side-Alonged him. The change in the air was marked as they appeared in a well appointed apparition area, cushioned benches near the walls for travellers to rest after their journey. Brian carefully guided his date to one of the seats and fussed a little until Nash laughed and kissed his nose playfully. "I'm not porcelain, you know?" he reminded as Brian pulled back, blinking.

"Sorry, but you look so ethereal, I kinda forgot," he murmured with a blush.

Nash sighed softly; perhaps he had gone a little overboard with his toilette. The robes were beautifully brocaded silk that his aunt had sent him, very Indian in peacock blue with gold and red designs woven into the silk along with seed pearls and aquamarines. He had forgone the traditional turban and instead spent considerable time and effort in curling his long hair into ringlets that were held off his face by a golden filet studded with still small aquamarines and pearls. His churidars were of raw peacock silk to match the robes and gathered over his embroidered, brocaded slipper shoes which were the same peacock blue with suede inserts. "I'm glad you like the clothes. My aunt sent them but I have had nowhere to wear them before and no one to wear them for," he confessed softly, as Brian escorted him into the main foyer of the restaurant.

Dinner was exquisite, many small, tasty courses, perfectly presented and served by unobtrusive live waiters who were neither seen nor heard but were always available to assist if the patrons so much as raised a finger. They finished with petite fours and a cheese plate, snifters of cognac and rich Turkish coffee. Conversation had been interesting and the silences never awkward but comfortable and indeed smouldering at times. Nash had told him stories about being a young man in India and about the patrons to his shop. Brian reciprocated with stories of California and his work as a Master Ward Smith.

"Did you choose your occupation to match your name or were you fated?" Nash teased at one point.

"Oh, definitely fated," Brian teased back, offering a toast. "Besides, I'm good at it. Without bragging, I am a powerful wizard and I need every erg of power I can dredge up sometimes. Some of those old places are steeped in human sacrifice to protect them, some sacrifices worse than others."

"How can one sacrifice be worse than another, they are all about taking lives, aren't they?" Nash asked, torn between fascination and revulsion.

Brian snorted. "True, but in a magical sense there is a hierarchy of power. A simple murder is less effective than a murder by torture. A willing sacrifice is more powerful than a murder. A wizard is more powerful than a Muggle. A relation is more powerful than a stranger, a child more powerful than an adult in one way and an adult more than a child in another. The closer the relationship, the more powerful the sacrifice, with the greatest sacrifice of all a powerfully magical parent willing to die to protect a loved child of their body."

The silence that fell over them was tinted with contemplation and past sadness. "And your present case?" Nash asked finally.

"Murdered Muggle tortured to death and the emulsion infused with family magic from multiple sources both living and now deceased. It will be a tricky one."

"How so?"

"Well, the girl is willing to leave as soon as she is free, but the magic… That which belongs to the living will immediately leave to rejoin its owners. The rest, belonging to the dead, will be freed and will need to be banished before it tries to insinuate itself into the banisher, ie: me."

"And if it does invade you?"

"Nasty. On my first job, I didn't realise how bad it could get until my own magic expelled it out of my system. I ended up in St Mungo's with Chronic Magical Fatigue for about two months before it was all dissipated. If it had been more powerful or better directed, there could have been other consequences. But as it was, I was pretty lucky it wasn't worse."

Nash was quiet for a long time before he leaned over and caught the back of Brian's neck pulling him close to kiss him softly. "You be very, very careful, okay?"

"Okay," Brian agreed, leaning his forehead on Nash's to become lost in his deep brown eyes.

oo0oo

There were four types of Runes used by the ancient Ward Makers; Seelie Elevn and Dwarfish for the 'Light' magic runes, Unseelie Elevn and Goblin for 'Dark' magics. For some reason, newer wards usually in Elder Futhark or even later, Ogham, were always put in the bowels of the house, while the older 'Light' wards tended to be up; the higher, the better. Only 'Dark' wards were put underground. After a careful search of all the cellars of the house, the surrounding woods and the few caves on the lands, Harry had failed to find any Dark runes anywhere at all. This indicated the runes were either Seelie or Dwarfish and would be up in the roof structure, which meant a climb and a half to find them. At first he used to wonder why Dwarves would climb up when they were associated with mining and underground but then he realised that Ward Makers were usually human wizards borrowing a written language from an associated race, not members of the race themselves. By the time wizards became anywhere near organised, most of the Middle Earth inhabitants had slowly and silently slipped away from the lands of Men.

Stowing his shrunken broom in his pocket, just in case, Harry climbed out of the roof access and eased the leaded trapdoor aside to climb out into the sunshine at the top of the Manor. The roofs and parapets were a rabbit warren of nooks and crannies, the blue slate tiles moss and lichen covered. Chimney stacks with red clay pots made a forest in the maze, the odd crow croaking angrily as it was disturbed on its usually inviolate nest. Glancing up at the sun and using his wand for accuracy, Harry determined true North and set off across the roof in that direction, while keeping a close eye on the compass he had put in his pocket earlier. The Ancients usually used the compass points as their anchor points as they were magically the strongest and most solid to attach the magic to. When he reached the northern edge of the structure, Harry studied the gabling and slating carefully to try and decide where he would find the Northern Ward Rune.

Of course, it was well hidden under glamours and Forget-me wards, but plainly tucked in under the gables at the end of the northern roof peak. To get to it, Harry had to unshrink his broom, fly upside down and hover perfectly still while he studied the runes incised into the solid keystone of the roof arch. He was just lucky they hadn't put it in during the construction of the house but added it later or else it would probably have been located under the rooftree resting on the keystone. Only once had he been called to a house with the protections in-built and then he had literally to levitate the rooftree to get his wand into the runes to add power to them. This time, he merely surveyed them, deciphered the actual meaning of the runes and marked their position in preparation for the real re-powering job he would do, probably the next day. As they were unweathered, there was no re-carving necessary which was a stroke of luck indeed.

After landing on the roof and letting the blood return to its normal courses, he set off toward the east looking for the next anchoring point. It was easier to get at, being under the leads that sealed the roof, unblemished, neat and ready for the re-powering ceremony. The Southern rune was equally well preserved and depleted, but the Western runes were totally missing! Harry coursed over the roof on foot and cruised along the edge on his broom but there was definitely no sign of runes anywhere. No wonder the wards had failed!

Going back to the roof, Harry flopped down on his back and glared up into the blue sky. Why was life always so bloody complicated! He ate the sandwich he brought with him and drank half his water before he mounted his broom and started again at the Northern edge to copy the runes exactly in every detail. Once he had an absolutely precise copy of all three runes, he allowed himself the luxury of a really wild fly over the grounds confident that no Muggle would see the diving, soaring broom with its wildly laughing rider. He was almost four thousand feet up when he pulled up sharply, the ringing of a mobile phone so out of place it was startling. Laughing, Brian pulled it out and slid it open.

"Brian? Hi, I wondered if you would get any signal. How do you feel about dinner at my place?" Nash asked, wondering what the odd noise was.

"Sounds good. I'm sort of hung up at the moment…" Brian began and laughed aloud when Nash expressed worry. "I'm hovering so high above the village I'm about to get engulfed in cloud, silly. Anyway, sure, I would love to have dinner. I just have to send an owl to the Archives to ask a few questions so I'll be along in a few."

"See you then."

Glancing down at himself, Brian decided a long, hot shower to get rid of the soot and grime ingrained in his hands and jeans would be in order, as soon as he had owled the archives.

oo0o

"Basically, it's the sequence you carve the wards in that determines the type of protection you invoke, oh, and the runes too…" Brian murmured, content to be propped against the edge of the sofa before the fire, his feet stretched out toward the blaze. Nash's head lay in his lap as he sprawled on the hearthrug with his flat stomach being used to balance their wineglasses on. "There's a verse that covers it, sort of.

North, South, East, West, Protect the ones you love the best

West, East, South, North, Bring the shining spirit forth

South, North, West, East, Present the spirit for the feast

East, West, North, South, Feed it to the Hell's mouth

Pretty puerile but it covers the essentials; intent and order do count, of course, as does the runes chosen to start with."

Nash carefully placed the glasses down and rolled onto his belly, burying his face in Brian's lap with a knowing grin. Brian groaned; the heat and slight humming of Nash's chuckle making his hips automatically buck. "You're making abstinence very difficult," he said, slipping his hands under Nash's armpits and lifting him up to capture his lips in a long, drawn-out duel for dominance that was only finished when his arms lost power and Nash slid down his body into a quivering heap in his lap.

"Oh, Merlin, you are fantastic. I want so much to… Let me…"

"Oh yes, now… please, I want to… yes!"

Words became meaningless as robes and trousers were discarded, exposing naked bodies to the flash and flicker of the firelight. After banging his knees on the stone floor, Brian cast a cushioning charm on the rug and smiled smugly while Nash laughed at him. It was Brian's turn to laugh when Nash snarled something rude and unintelligible when he couldn't get the lube jar open with one hand. Neither laughed as Brian sank into Nash's tight heat, the waves of mixed pleasure and pain barely softened by hasty and inadequate preparation. Brian almost apologised but Nash arched under him, taking all he had to give and begged for more. The small imperfections in their techniques were lost in the flood of naked lust that swept both their insecurities away and gave them uninterrupted joy.

Late that night, lying curled around each other like sated puppies, Nash played with a lock of Brian's hair and sighed as the other man rose up his body to kiss him once again.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" Brian asked gently as he wrapped an arm over the narrow golden chest and hugged him gently.

"Too keyed up to sleep. I… that was fun and a pleasure and amazing, unlike any other experience I have ever had in my life."

"But…"

Nash blinked and rolled his head to smile at the other man. "No 'but'… it was just perfect. I was simply enjoying the afterglow and replaying it all in my head. However, you should sleep or you will not be fit for work tomorrow."

Brian relaxed and smiled back, leaning forward to dab a quick kiss on Nash's nose. "Good, because I have had partners that go from wild and fantastic to angst ridden closet queens in the blink of an eye."

Nash giggled. "Been there, done that, got the tea towel," he replied in a singsong tone that made Brian laugh and hug him closer.

"You're right, I need to sleep or I won't be fit for anything tomorrow. Are you okay with my staying here the night?"

"I would not have asked you if I had any qualms, I do assure you," Nash murmured, pulling him closer and tightening his arms possessively. "Sleep, now, immediately," he ordered imperiously, making Brian snigger and snuggle closer.

"Yes, your highness," he murmured on a yawn and allowed himself to relax completely.

oo0oo

The Archival owl was back with all the material contained in the archives relevant to Farsee Manor. The original manor building had been erected in 1492 by the ruling family of the time. The building had withstood flood and fire, siege and bombast quite handily until 1746 when, accused of being a Jacobite sympathiser, the then Lord of the Manor had been run through in London, the Manor falling into the hands of the present Lord's family.

"And that's when the western ward was lost, when the idiot decided to extend the Manor by pulling down an outer wall. He literally and physically pulled down the wards," Brian explained, pacing the hearthrug as he lectured Nash who was curled up on the sofa enjoying the display. "Fortunately, it was the west ward and not as pivotal to the structure of the wards as, say, the south or worse, the north. So, the three remaining runes could limp along reasonably effectively against the rather more peaceful times until Grindlewald raised his ugly head. Then all of a sudden, the flaws in the wards had to be rectified in a hurry. My predecessor was called in and it says here, "Master Ward Smith Trubilan recarved the missing Western ward then powered up the warding grid with the greatest of all magic, Unseelie with a human sacrifice to strengthen the structure." Was he nuts?" Brian exclaimed, his hands waving wildly. "Bloody Hell! Was he looking to commit suicide? Why would he put Unseelie into Dwarf runes? No wonder the Western ward looks like it was blown off. If it was so badly mismatched then it would have exploded in his face and…" He checked his notes. "Yep, blew the piece of granite carved with the replacement Western rune incised on it straight through his chest, blistering fool!"

Nash laughed at the grimly satisfied smirk on his new lover's face and reached out to draw him close. Brian immediately stopped his pacing and stomping, his expression lightening to pleasure as he allowed himself to be drawn down to the sofa and enfolded in slim, golden arms. "And so, you must be very careful when you are restructuring the wards, my love. I do not want to lose you so soon," Nash told him semi-seriously, kissing him with growing possessiveness.

oo0oo

Brian spent hours poring over his texts, consulting the old scrolls he had collected over the years, some even pre-dating Hogwarts. He had raided his parents' vaults, that of his family and the Black Family vaults which he had received from Sirius over time along with his own purchases he had amassed until he could confidently state he had the most complete and wide ranging library on Wards, Runes and Warding Magic in the Wizarding world.

With the references at his fingertips he suddenly realised why Master Ward Smith Trubilan had been fooled into thinking the runes were Unseelie. They were, in part, but the curlicues under the fifth and seventh figure changed the whole meaning into something quite different. Translating the remaining three wards, he thought deeply before he wrote up what he thought the West ward would read. He left it on the bench and went to eat, drifting though the old house and deciding which items would need decontaminating before he returned to read what he had written, nearly banging his head on the table. Because of the curliques, the meaning of half the runes were flipped and made the opposite. Taking out a new sheet of paper, he rethought the sequence and wrote it out carefully. Leaving it to percolate through his brain, he slept alone for the first time in a week, waking early to check his work.

Finally satisfied, he fastened a leather belt around his waist and checked the Muggle and completely non-magical hammer and set of stonemason's chisels in the pouch. Runes had to be carved manually into the stone of the building. It was a skill he had worked hard to acquire and practiced regularly, making stone plaques, sculptures and figurines for his friends and for sale in a small gift shop in Muggle London.

Mounting his broom, he flew out over the property and burned off a little energy before landing on the roof and using his compass to pace out the exact spot for the new runes. The sun was just setting when he carefully began the incision of the first rune. There were three in the west ward and each one had to be carved on a successive day, while the sun was setting. He had learned to work fast and accurately in his carving and had the first rune almost finished, just the last dressing to tidy up, as the last rays of the sun were sinking into the west. Fortunately it was Summer and he had a fair long time to do the work, even taking into account the long twilight.

He apparated to Nash's doorstep on the dark of the third night, sweaty, cramped and exhausted. The taller man took one look at him, cast a feather light charm and carried him up to slide him into a hot bath, perfumed and infused with muscle relaxing potions and fatigue toxin leeching properties. Harry had a vague feeling he ate something but then the energy toll of the complete concentration he had to maintain over the last three days finally hit him and he knew no more.

oo0oo

Waking slowly in a bed that wasn't his own caused Harry to sit bolt upright, but then he remembered he had crashed on Nash's doorstep. Vaguely embarrassed, he relaxed and glanced around, spying a folded parchment on the bedside table. The note was short and signed with a flourish but merely told him it was Friday Morning, he knew where the shower was and there was food downstairs under warming charms for him. Harry thought there was something vaguely familiar about the penmanship but forgot it as he headed for the loo and the luxury of a long, hot shower. After eating his breakfast, Brian decided it was a day to play hookey and simply relax. Making the decision, he went shopping for the ingredients to prepare dinner for two, his big challenge for the day.

When Nash came home from work that evening he sniffed the air, an eyebrow shooting up at the delicious smells coming from his kitchen. He was most surprised to find Brian peeling carrots with the deft air of one well practiced. A large pot on the stove simmered softly sending up fragrant clouds while the rich, fatty smell of roasting lamb was overlaid by the lighter, fruity perfume of prepared compote.

"Hi," Brian greeted with a shy smile as he straightened to kiss Nash hello. "I hope you don't mind but I commandeered your kitchen. There's a bottle of wine chilling on the table if you want to pop the cork. Dinner will be about an hour, I should think."

"It smells fabulous," Nash murmured, bringing the bottle in to open. "Need a hand?"

"Nah, I have it all under control but you can cut the vegetables up if you like."

They worked in companionable silence, occasionally bumping hips and feeding each other sips of wine or a sliver of salad. Nash gossiped good naturedly about his day, complaining about one or two fussy customers in a humorous way. Brian filled him in on the difficulties of finding good granite for the next part of his job at the Manor and how few stonemasonry yards were still around these days. Pinkerley's Marvellous Memorials, his usual suppliers, were completely out of green granite and Yerton's only had inferior stone left.

"Fancy a quick trip to Italy this weekend?" Brian asked, as they nibbled cheese and sipped port to round out the fantastic meal.

"You are joking, aren't you?" Nash asked with a slightly startled expression.

Brian paused, looking baffled. "No. I need to go to the quarries and pick up some stone and it's just as easy for two to take the trip as one. Besides, I would like your company; travel can be a bit boring on your own."

Nash's smile softened and he leaned forward to drop a kiss on Brian's unsuspecting nose. "I'd love to come with you to Italy, thank you. You just startled me, that's all. Most people put a bit more thought into international travel, rather than announcing it as if they were popping up to London for the day."

"Oh." Brian paused, then giggled. "Yes, I suppose it was a bit cavalier of me to ask you out of the blue like that but you see, I do pop over to the continent just like that, part of the job, you know. Still, it's nice where I have to go and you will probably like it. We can stop and visit a winery or two and I'll bet you could find some interesting things to look at, if you tried," he coaxed with a laugh.

"I'll bet I could," Nash agreed with a grin.

oo0oo

The weekend away was fantastic, both young men thoroughly enjoying the ambiance and anonymity of the Italian countryside. By the time they Portkeyed back to Nash's cottage on Sunday night, Brian was the proud owner of two blocks of green granite and Nash sported a pair of stylish dragon hide boots from the markets in Milan. Three cases of wine and two cases of mixed potions ingredients would be shipped without magic, arriving some time in the next couple of weeks.

Casting a featherlight charm on the larger marble, Brian hovered it out to Farsee Manor. Using a stone saw, he cut away the sides of the block on an angle leaving a completely flat area at the top of the block that was only half the surface area of the base and was exactly in the centre. Using his chisels, he carved a perfectly round depression in the top of the block, with a diameter of four and a quarter inches exactly. Using a Micrometer, he found the exact middle of the faces on the circle and cut shallow trenches one quarter of an inch wide and half an inch deep from the circular depression, over the lip and down the sloped side to hold the chains for when the whole warding column would be finished. Once the gross carving on the monolith was done, he spent best part of the day hand polishing the marble to a mirror gloss. By sunset, the piece was ready and he hovered it down to the cellar complex. Having already completed the measurements and calculations, Brian carefully positioned the piece in the exact centre of the wards, where the four confluences met. As the sun set, he used his own magic to integrate the marble monolith into the very foundations of the building, making it an integral part of Farsee Manor.