Whazzup?!

Sorry, I'll never type that again.

So a quick summary of this chapter:

Anybody wonder where Lupin was when Xaphia was being summoned? More of the illogical paradigms of the magical world are noted, good old fashioned family bonding happens (not really but at least no one dies) and our favorite papermaster makes the scene in her spectacularly badass way.

Let's go!

*IIHST*

"Hello child."

All Lupin could process was just how...large she was. Not fat by any stretch of the imagination, just well... It seemed as if a normal sized woman had been hit with an enlargement charm, the being before him stood at least a head taller than the Keeper of the Keys. Or rather she would if she were actually standing. Though from the size of the throne she sat upon, it was easy to infer from the fact that even while seated, she cast a shadow over the werewolf. Said throne looked to be a large blossoming white rose upon which she elegantly sat, legs to one side, back straight as a rod. Hands primly placed in her lap.

Her eye were pools of iridescense; milky, pupiless and reflective like moonstone. Which is likely what the teardrop shaped gem upon her brow was. Her flawless skin not quite white, not quite grey but a stunning middle ground of the two that gave off a heavenly glow. Her lips...her lips were an odd coloring that reminded one of polished silver, the same color present on her nails. Her hair the color of morning fog, that was the only way he could describe the straight tresses that spilled down over her shoulders, over the edge of the platform. All of her features wonderfully complemented by her ivory trumpet dress with boatneck. For such a simple design it looked so noble on her.

"M-my lady. Thank you for this audience-"

"You have no need to be nervous Remus." her voice possessing such a soothing melodic tone. "I know why you have come to me."

Oh dear. The Sliverlight knew his name. Did she know he'd come not to join her but see what her intentions were? That he acted as an agent of the Light?

"Yes Remus, I know you are here at the request of your...benefactor. But do not fear, I am not angry. Though I wish to know, what is in your heart?"

"My heart?"

"Yes child. Was this merely a mission? Or to satisfy your own desires? I know many things, true. Your childhood turning, the scorn you face even now for something that was never your choice. Have things improved since then? Are you happier now?"

Lupin knew what she was doing immediately. Trying to get him on her side, tear him away from the Order. He'd expected nothing less really, so had Dumbledore and Snape, warning him of it quite well. The headmaster constructing powerful mental blocks to keep her from manipulating him. So how could she-

"We are rarely as powerful or as helpless as we lead ourselves to assume. Your Dumbledore is not as strong as he believes. Neither is this so called Dark Lord. If not for stunning blindness on their parts, they'd see they are perfect reflections of one another lacking a balancing force. So concerned with their quest they fail to see or could care less about the casualties in their wake. Tell me, what have you gained as a Order member?"

The loss of several close friends through death or insanity. The Longbottoms were some of their most powerful casters yet Bellatrix had reduced them to drooling lumps. Lily and James were known to have died that Halloween night but to further learn their infant had as well broke his heart. Knowing the child this Pure Light brought forth was all that remained of Harry but at the same times was not broke his heart even more. It didn't help that the wolf seemed to recognize this long before Bakaret confirmed it.

The near loss of Sirius' sanity to Azkaban. Albus let him suffer there for nearly 10 years. He had felt something wasn't right but like all of them believed in The Lord Black's betrayal due to the facts presented and their own grief. Still, when Albus had suddenly came across information that could prove his innocence it was a blessing right? So why did it feel as if the only reason it came to light at all was Sirius's power could be used to amplify the strange ritual to retrieve Harry? Why had he still not presented it to the masses? Yes the MoM was full of buffoons but the media proved a useful tool before- the average witch and wizard taking the Prophet's print as the word of Merlin. Surely Albus had his reasons...but were they good enough reasons given the situation?

A place to cower and hide from himself. He could not get a job, least not a legal one for more than a few months at a time. The whole of his support coming from what was left of the meager assets he acquired drifting from menial job to menial job. Which to be honest dwindled by the month as the cost of effectively keeping himself locked away every thirty days turned out to be nearly on par with that associated with the wolfsbane potion. All being part of the Order did in that regard just assured the beast wouldn't get loose should he become careless or worse completely destitute.

No, he told himself. Opposing Voldemort was the most important thing right now. That mad man had taken everything he loved from him. He could not be permitted to continue destroying their world.

"You mean the same world that condemned a helpless child for being cursed? The one that lead him to believe his only living family would be better off believing he were dead than to have to support a 'monster'? Perhaps you mean the one that holds blood status above all else, despite such being constantly proven to be moot? Or maybe the society which fostered the prejudices and self hatred that warped a lost and alone Tom Riddle into Voldemort and likely had similar involvement in the creation of his predecessor? I am curious, to which do you refer child?" She tilted her head slightly, awaiting his answer.

Said answer took sometime. To be honest Remus couldn't decide which terrified him more- that she spoke the truth or that his response would anger the larger than life woman. One of her hands looked to be as large as his head and he had no doubt she could flick it off his shoulders given sufficient motivation to do so. Displeasure at his insolence seemed to fit that criteria.

"I, I believe things can change my lady. They will change once the war is over." Oh what the hell? In for a knut, in for a galleon.

"Hm." she nodded. "If you say so. Please tell Mr. Dumbledore he has little to fear from myself or my children. We want only to live in peace and wish him the best of luck in ending this war."

"Wha?"

"I thought I made it clear I do not mind your true motive for coming to me. Were you expecting me to badger you into abandoning your chosen side to stand at mine?" the graceful being looked confused. "Or did you believe I would not allow you to leave unharmed if at all?"

Uh, yeah? He came into her circle, was lead to this well warded and hidden glade by one of her followers, as a spy to gather intelligence. An utterly failed spy but one nonetheless. Anyone powerful enough to tame weres on the full moon, relieve vampires of their lust for blood or be unaffected in the slightest by a dementor (in hindsight the MoM really should have considered she might turn the 3 that 'escaped' into her pets...) had to be a force to be reckoned with.

"To be honest my lady yes to all. Your appearance during these troubled times have many on edge. Those who find peace with you were expected to eventually side with You Know Who if anyone." Remus sighed, releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been still holding. The Silverlight blinked rapidly then laughed. A musical version of a noblewoman's amused sound.

"It was nice to meet you Remus Lupin. Should your views or situation change, my arms are always open."

His wolf howled in anguish at the thought of leaving this beacon of comfort as Remus himself passed out.

*IIHST*

So, this is awkward.

Albus too many middle names Dumbledore with far more titles than necessary found himself at a loss. All he wanted was to return their savior. Guide the boy and hope it would be enough for him to conquer the Dark Lord and by some miracle the child could live through the battle. That this 'Light' would give the child the edge in that. He finally had a compelling reason to spring Sirius from that Merlin be damned place that wouldn't result in them all joining him there.

Instead he got two pint sized problems.

Harry refused to answer to his birth name, something that could be worked around. The fact that he could not wield a wand (or rather shouldn't due to the...interesting effects) as a proper wizard should was somewhat of a sticky wicket. What he did use to channel his magic could in no way pass as one. Not to mention the fact that those strange keys could be used like staff weapons. And that didn't even touch how unlike Harry Potter (or ANY wizard for that matter) the boy appeared. His everyday apparel appeared beyond scandalous! As he aged it could only grow more improper. and that strange jewel...

Molly found herself devastated that her son rejected her. Ronald Billius Weasley had died the day of that fire and in his place the child known as Xaphia was born. Though after being filled in on the circumstances of his being summoned, he approached the Weasleys.

"My cousin says you meant no harm in bringing me here. That you spent many years attempting to find me. For that I am grateful." Xaphia bowed respectfully. "Still, my name is Xaphia. You are not my family. I don't know you."

Well, Har- Bakaret did warn that that interaction could have involved far more blood. So, for the sake of the greater good, he decided to encourage the Order to indulge the children in their claims as Chaos Mages. If it got them to open up to the idea of helping, then it was worth a shot.

"I believe Mama found me that day. There was a fire...I died. When she remade me, she could not fix my eyes, even with Cha's help." Xaphia nodded. The way he talked of dying so casually made the Weasley matriarch stifle a sob. "It's nothing to be sad over ma'am. Ba says I simply have on less sense to deceive."

"Ah, who are Cha and Ba?" her husband ventured.

"My fathers."

"Beg pardon?"

"Cha's is Pollux, a Light mage. Ba's is Gabriel, a dark mage. Mama kinda isn't light or dark." The blue eyed boy shrugged. Bakaret hid his amusement at their incredulous stares, schooling his features to a perfect blank mask as his cousin spoke. Oh they were gonna love this. "I am a dark mage."

"You are nothing of the sort!" Molly barked. "How can you say such a horrid thing?!" To think a dark anything had been raising her precious child in some inappropriate polyamorous situation. She couldn't accept it.

"My affinity is dark. His is light." Xaphia shrugged thumbing back at his cousin.

"I explained this to you all." Bakaret sighed, giving the impression of wanting to defuse the situation. While intentionally doing the exact opposite Dumbledore suspected. "Chaos Mages are either light, dark or neutral."

"What actually determines that?" Arthur cut his wife's upcoming rant off. "I mean why are you...dark?"

Xaphia just stared at the man (well, appeared to look in his direction) and lifted a brow. Eerily, his eyes shifted to his wife. Another disturbing thing. While Alastor's eye was obviously false and enchanted to allow much more in depth sight, no such magic could be detected with the red head. Upon closer inspection, the orbs in his skull were indeed a set of solid two toned sapphire crystals. The "whites" simply the area with less blue. The precious jewels were part of his anatomy as was the large teardrop emerald affixed were Bakaret's scar should be. Embedded in his skin instead of merely on top of it for decoration.

In any case, Xaphia did not reply. Having heard his cousin had tried to explain it before he concluded they'd either ignored the viridian eyed boy or were simply too dense to understand what had been said to them. Either way he refused to waste his breath. Bakaret gave his now familiar coquettish giggle (that he could even sound like that still unnerved them) watching his 'blind' cousin walk away with purpose. Easily avoiding clutter to leave the kitchen.

"I told you all before where we are born determines that. The side of the affinity you fall on depends on the forces at work there already. I turned out light because my mama made me in her home reality. Uncle Gabriel's priests being so powerful had unbalanced things a little so ta-da." He motioned to himself with flourish. "Xaphia was born where his mama was born and the scales were already tilted toward the light after...um an incident, so he turned out dark. I think the reason you guys are having trouble is you hear dark and think evil. While I don't claim to understand your society fully the books in the library seem to suggest you classify magic based on the intent of the user right? I mean there's loads you already classified."

"Of course." Arthur agreed readily. Molly seemed torn between following her 'Ronnikins' or staying put and giving him space.

"Well, if I used a levitation charm to drop an anvil on someone, is it still a light spell? If I used a severing curse on an unsalvageable limb that would kill the person if left alone, is it still a dark curse? In both cases, my intent is the same as it would be with spell's usual uses. So what's the difference?" For once, he wasn't trying to be a smart ass. A burning question since he discovered the Black library days ago he genuinely wanted an answer. Surely such a question had been posed before in the wizarding world. There's that optimism Light mages were famous for.

Unfortunately, the confounded expression on the Weasley's then the seconds then ticked by in silence caused that faith to waver...a lot. With an exasperated groan, he facepalmed.

"You mean NOBODY'S ever asked that?!"

"I suppose it's never really come up before dear." Molly looked deep in contemplation. The strangled sound of frustration the child made startled her.

*IIST*

"I said fuck off! It's over dumbass!"

"If I can't have you, no one shall!"

After his humiliating defeat before the Princes of Asgard, Anu lost it. It didn't matter that Lord Thor had rescinded his decree. Akik was destined to be his. Or no one's. When that little harlot tried to run off, he grabbed her. No one noticed him teleporting out of the water.

Now he was in another human settlement. The vermin screamed when they appeared, fled as they did battle. No matter, they were of no consequence. In his reality, his subjects had the sense to leave when their gods were at war.

The object of his desire on the other hand was PISSED. Whatever for you ask?

First off, after forever of fighting off horny and/or power hungry pedo jerks it took a stunningly short amount of time for her to kick her uncle's ass. For the embodiment of battle and strength, the one responsible for all the strife she endure since meeting him, Thor went down like a punk. Though the look on his face when she snatched his precious hammer and knocked him across the bank with it was priceless. She supposed his utter shock played into his inability to defend himself from the much less experienced mage.

Second, just when he agreed to lift his decree (muttering it with his last breath before completely clocking out face down in the mud), she felt a weird tug on her jewel. At the same time this bastard managed to get out of the river and grab her ankle. Next thing she knew she was in London. Which London was debatable but the sight of the clock tower the houses Big Ben overlooking the Palace of Westminster left little doubt. Somehow she's been warped from one riverside to another. But the second they arrive, Anu starts attacking her. AGAIN.

Worst of all, not only did he seem to not care that her hand was no longer a prize but he had no regard for the people caught up in their fight. Before, she had been the sole target and the battlefield had few bystanders. Now he was unleashing the full power of his sword swing in a major metropolitan area. Tearing up asphalt, demolishing structures and no doubt injuring people left and right. Her focus got split between defending herself and defending the citizens of London. This idiot had gone off the deep end, hellbent on killing her damn the collateral damage. Each time she turned her attention to erect a paper shield around some unlucky brit, Anu came in for a killing blow. Akik couldn't keep doing this. She was so DONE with this...

"Swan Song Guillotine!"

Never before had she used a worded attack. Not in all her time fighting for her life, merely used her conduits and conjured papers. The very idea that she could never even crossed her mind before. Muchless the knowledge of the follow through motions to carry it out. Yet she just did.

Her mother told her once her feathers manifested, that her unique abilities would present themselves in time, their secrets revealed gradually. Her mother taught her to mold and focus her energies, use the powers they all shared but warned her daughter that somethings could not be learned from anyone but her own self. Spoken spells fit this category. So, not only were the cowering civilians shocked when she did but so was Akik herself.

Though no one was more surprised than Anu when threw both arms out to the side, then circled the one holding her bladed plume to point straight ahead at her target. This action summoned a maelstrom of feathers the size and sharpness of knives to gracefully swirl and dance around her like petals. Which then made a beeline to envelope him in a lethal tornado and reduced his legendarily invulnerable body to a bloody heap of barely connected limbs.

"Well then. That was super effective."

Yes, yes it was. In plain view of non-magical London.

*IIST*

Yes, that was a pokemon reference. Both in her attack name, the execution of it and what she says in response. Gen One players know what I mean.

Trying to keep the HP mages distinct from one another as well as nothing like their original selves. Bakaret if far from an easily manipulated pawn; he's a passive aggressive timebomb as stated by his own father. Xaphia isn't a sheltered chatterbox; he's a silent shoot first ask questions if you're still alive assassin to be. Akik has no issue solving her problems with violence as well as her brain...and cursing like a sailor. Roumpini, newly born, is savagery and instinct wrapped in a deceptively adorable package. Manestien is manipulative and cunning on a far grander scale; magic isn't the only way to get people to do what you want.

The magical world is super fucked.

If the description of The Silverlight reminds some of you guys of anything, it totally should. A neat coincidence I noticed about my representations of the HP kids I decided to play up to the fullest here with Manestien's alterego. Each of the child chaos mages has a gemstone corresponding to their name meaning on their foreheads that's actually apart of their bodies.. Except for Xaphia whose eyes are literally sapphires.

BELIEVE IN STEVEN!

Love it? Hate it? Let me know! Sirensoundwave out!