A/N: Argh! It's been so long! I'm sorry people; I had a run of essays and presentations and reports to get done, which meant this fic sort of fell into the sidelines. But, here, at long last, chapter 11! Enjoy, review, and erm, yeah I can't think what else to say. On with the chapter!

"So... how can we be talking?" Chris asked, forcing himself to try to think on the logics of it all, instead of his first reaction; which happened to be outright rage. "If I'm you or your reincarnation or whatever the hell it is I actually am." Unfortunately for Chris, the rage had a way of slipping through and making itself known. Merlin raised his eyebrows just slightly. "Don't give me that look," Chris said quickly, recognising said look. "I perfected that look. It's a reasonable question, so I would quite like an answer, if that's not too much to expect."

Merlin gave a soft laugh. "Okay, so it's reasonable." He paused, and leant back, leaning on some invisible wall with a casual air that Chris suspected no one except Merlin could ever posses. "It's not an exact reincarnation, you understand, not really. It's..." he paused, frowning slightly. "I can't actually think of the right word for it. Funny that. It's more like... partial sharing, if you like. You're the nearest there'll be to a reincarnation of me, until, well you know my stories," he shrugged, showing that it really was the best way he could think of explaining it. "Like I said, it's not a perfect art. I did think you'd the older brother, it'd make things easier."

"Make what easier?" Chris asked, interested. Merlin gave a look; obviously he wasn't up for telling Chris everything this night. "Fine," Chris sighed irritably, "another night, I get it."

"Don't make haste to find it all out Chris," Merlin smiled widely, "sometimes the waiting is the most interesting part of it all." Chris glowered slightly.

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel all with the warm and fuzzies."

xXx

The week following the Potions lesson was a busy one, and Chris found himself grateful for his reputation of being brilliant without doing a single lick of the work set to them. He had began to dislike the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons, however, as the constant expectation of non-verbal spells often lead to him being partnered with Wyatt, which in turn meant that he would come out of each lesson with a new injury. Chris was aware that he should have seen this coming. Without a constant supply of minions to torture, coupled with having to keep on the face of the good and innocent child people thought he was, Wyatt was growing more frustrated, and taking those frustrations out on the only person he could get away with doing so in the school.

That Saturday, however, was the Gryffindor Quidditch try-outs.

"What is Quidditch?" Wyatt asked the group, the night before at dinner. He received a lot of odd stares. "...What?" he asked.

"Quidditch is the sport of wizard kings," Chris commented dryly, getting a small giggle from Luna. She had been oddly quiet in Wyatt's company, occasionally blushing at the sight of him. It didn't improve Chris' moods, and he couldn't help but want to hit his brother, a lot. Why was it that he always got girls falling for him? It wasn't that Chris felt anything in that respect towards Luna, but it didn't mean he wanted her falling for his brother. She was his little sister, in his eyes at least.

"It's a sport alright," Nott said, "bloody, and brutal, and downright dangerous," he grinned widely. "Of course, that's what makes it so much fun." He paused, looking at the Gryffindors the group possessed. "Any of you lot actually trying out this year then?" he asked, curious. Chris gave a glare, well, his contempt for the sport was widely known.

"I always said I was going to try out after Fred and George left," Lu said honestly, before shrugging, "but, I guess I don't feel much like it anymore." Once again, Chris found himself annoyed with the Elders for what they had, in their wisdom, chosen to do. It was a confusing predicament to be in, someone who was created for no other reason to be his friend, going through grief that, rightly, shouldn't be bothering them at all as they didn't have the huge emotional tie they thought they did. Not to mention it gave him a headache trying to figure it all out. He tended not to think on it too much.

"Werewolves aren't allowed," Craig said with a small shrug, "doesn't really bother me, if I'm honest, I don't like flying all that much," he admitted. "Something about being up off the ground makes me feel sort of sick," he gave another shy grin. Chris fought back a laugh. Of course werewolves wouldn't be allowed, if they were their team would win all the time. "Might go along and watch the try outs though," Craig said after a moment or two. "It's a legitimate way of not doing homework."

"There's legitimate ways of not doing homework?" Chris questioned. "Huh, and here I was just not doing the damn thing. Clearly I need to be better informed," he put on a mock glare, "and for this I blame my minions. Bad Minions!" He held the mock glare for a while, before allowing a snort of laughter to the laughs already present. It was odd, only the year before he would have hated having people laugh along with him, and even though two of the people sitting there were created to be his friends, it was oddly ... nice. "I agree though, to Quidditch try outs we must go!"

"I think I'll try out," Wyatt mused. Chris nodded in agreement, turning back to his breakfast. After a minute or two, it appeared as though what Wyatt had said had actually made an impact.

"Wait, what?"

xXx

It ended up just being Chris and Wyatt who went along to the Quidditch tryouts. Nott had no desire to be surrounded by the more annoying Gryffindors all afternoon, Luna had an essay she wanted to finished writing, and Luperca and Craig had something to do, Chris had stopped listening to the excuses by that point. By the looks of it, at least half of Gryffindor House had showed up to the try-outs, even though it was a drizzly day. Chris had to guess there was an appeal at having the once again popular in the news Harry Potter as the team captain. The groups hoping to try out seem to span the different year groups of the school. At one end of the pitch where a handful of first years, clutching on to their brooms for dear life, while the other end played host to seventh-years, who were playing the cool intimidation card to everyone else, but who nodded towards Wyatt, who they'd accepted as one of them. In the latter group was a large boy Chris remembered being included amongst the 'privileged few' on the train rain.

"Good luck, Wy," he muttered, moving over to the stands where Hermione was sitting, wisely wrapped up against the drizzle. "Hey, Beautiful," he said, sitting down beside her, "we in for wild time and fun rides today then?" he asked in a monotone. Then, genuinely curious, he gestured to the crowd. "There normally that big a turn out?"

"No, there's not," Hermione admitted, looking slightly concerned about it all. "Usually it's just a small handful. Only the most confident flyers tend to try out for the House team," she explained to Chris, who nodded. That made sense; Quidditch was a sport that required confidence on a broom after all. She looked over the crowd. "Your brother can fly?"

"I... don't know," Chris answered honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "He's pretty much been able to do whatever he puts his mind to when it comes to magic," he added. Hermione wisely chose to not question the slightly bitter tone to Chris' words. "I guess if he wants to fly, he can fly."

"That's rather interesting," Hermione said, "being able to just decide he can do aspects of magic that take others so long to learn," she clarified, leading Chris to roll his eyes. Like he wouldn't have worked it out anyway. "Is it part of his own abilities, do you know, or just some natural phenomena due to his being the Twice Blessed?" Chris started slightly, before relaxing. Hermione was a reader, of course she would know the term the magical community had given his brother. He could vaguely recall her using it before, but it still came as a shock to hear it after so long. Wyatt tended to avoid any of those names, not wanting the connection with the Elders to besmirch his work.

"A bit of both," he answered, leaning forward. Despite it, he couldn't help but be slightly interested in the academic side of the topic, rather like Hermione was. "I'd argue it was using some of the Laws of Natural Magic, along with maybe the theory Plausible Deniability, but that would completely wipe out the Natural Magic thing," he said. "Granted, it could just be him using a mix of his powers to get the desired effect, but Wy's always been a straightforward type of guy."

"Plausible Deniability?" Hermione question, leaning in eagerly. "You mean to say that since no one has simply told him he shouldn't be able to do these things without having studied and practised them, he just can?" She looked surprised, glancing over at Wyatt, before turning back to Chris. "If that were true, it could change the very essence of how we study magic," she cried excitedly. "Think of what your brother would be able to accomplish, what witch or wizard could accomplish if it were possible for other people to follow!"

"Yeah, I guess, but there's a lot of badness that comes with that, Beautiful," Chris said. "There's a reason people study and practise at magic. Just being able to do stuff because you decide you can doesn't mean you're going to use it in the right way, so the possibility that there could be generations of magic users just impulsively using magic is ... Wait, when did I turn into..." he trailed off, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "It's just, impulsive magic can be ..."

"Dangerous," A deep voice finished. Chris and Hermione both jumped, and looked over, to see Wyatt standing over them amused. "I saw you two little lovebirds in a deep discussion and I had to come and investigate," he chuckled. Wyatt then turned a winning smile on Hermione. "My dear little brother is so anti-social at times. Seeing him talking is a rare treat." Chris scowled deeply, as Hermione looked warily between the two brothers. Chris seemed to be holding himself slightly stiffer in his brother's presence, or what that just her seeing tension when really there was none? "I'm on the team," Wyatt said, smirking as he sat down beside Chris. There was an obvious 'like I wouldn't' left hanging in the air.

"Whoop for you," Chris commented dryly. Wyatt always got what he wanted.

xXx

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cole asked, watching as Chris stuffed books from his shelves into a battered looking backpack. "It's playing it a little too close, don't you think? With him being here not to mention watching everything you do?" Chris continued to move around the office, grabbing bottles of vanquishing potion out of the top drawer of the filing cabinet. "Chris, are you even paying attention to me?" Cole sighed irritably, watching the young boy move around the room with a determined air.

"I am paying attention," Chris replied, inspected a dagger he had lifted from the weapons display on the wall. "I'm just putting you on mute for most of it," he explained with a smirk. Cole rolled his eyes, and moved to sit down behind his desk. "I've got duties with the Resistance tonight," Chris said, zipping up the bulging backpack carefully. He looked around the room, scanning carefully for anything that could be useful. "I can't keep putting them off; I'm on rocky enough ground as it is being his little brother." Cole noted a slight tone of scorn in Chris' words, and frowned.

"And this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Leo's due in... oh," he paused, looking at his watch, "make that due soon?"

"No, it has everything to do with it," Chris replied, in as sarcastic a tone as any human being could manage. Of course, despite the sarcasm, it was entirely possible that Chris was being truthful about his reasoning for insisting that he go to the Resistance that night. He would do almost anything to avoid meeting with his father, after all. "Tell him to go get recycled, will you?" he added, in an off-hand manner. Cole blinked. As unusual a comment as it was, it was still pretty violent in terms of what Chris would usually give to his father. With one last look around the room, Chris orbed out, and Cole resisted the urge to slam his forehead off the desk.

It wasn't long until the door was opened, and Wyatt filled the doorway. "Really, Cole, an Ex-Source like yourself, reduced to playing dogsbody for a deluded old man," he gave a very cold laugh, the type that sent shivers up even the most hardened of demons' spines. "How very depressing. But, it's to be expected, you crossed my family after all." Wyatt added, conversationally, moving over to sit in one of the vacant seats in front of Cole's desk. "I take it that Chris has made his escape?"

"He decided to go and visit Victor's grave," Cole said, knowing that Chris would end up doing that before returning to Hogwarts. "Have you been?" he asked suddenly, looking at Wyatt curiously. There was no reply. The sigh didn't come, because Cole honestly expected avoidance from the boys by this point. They sat in silence for a few moments longer, before white lights filled the room. "You know, I'd appreciate it if you could find a way to make your orbing less blinding."

Leo ignored him. "Wyatt," he smiled warmly, moving over to his eldest son. "It's been too long."

"Hardly long enough," came Wyatt's decidedly cold reply. Leo recoiled as though his son had hit him, and Cole stared. "Have you spoken to my brother lately?" he asked. On Leo's slightly embarrassed look, Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Stupid question to ask wasn't it. You always did hate him." Cole decided at that moment that it was in his best interests to remain quiet, and not because Wyatt was motioning for him to do so.

"Wyatt it isn't as easy as you're making it out to be," Leo insisted. "You know your brother. He's completely..."

"Completely sick of you?" Wyatt cut in. "Well, that makes two of us." Leo looked heartbroken, and Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Really, Leo, do you think I'd stand idly by and bask in your praise while you shunned and hated Chris?" he said, sounding bored. "Mother never hated him, and yet you never seemed to get pass that, did you?"

"Wait, what do you mean?" Cole asked, eyes narrowing slightly. "Why would Piper hate Chris?" He looked at Wyatt, frowning slightly. Well, Leo was obviously not going to give him anything concrete to go on, so he might as well ask the one whose morality was slightly greyer than Chris'.

"It's none of your business!" Leo snapped, glaring at the ex-demon. Wyatt laughed.

"Oh, I think he does," he smirked. "You see, Cole, Leo has never gotten over the fact that there were ... complications to Chris' birth," there was a long pause as Wyatt allowed this to sink in. Casually, he continued. "Now, not that Chris is aware of this, but our Mother almost died as a result of these complications. Leo has never gotten over that." There was a silence.

"How did you find out?" Leo asked.

"Aunt Phoebe never was the best at keeping secrets related to me and Chris," Wyatt replied. "I wanted to know why it was that you couldn't look him in the eye, let alone pretended he didn't even exist." There was a long, long pause, as Leo spluttered, lost for words. Eventually he found his voice again, and with it came a glare directed at his eldest.

"You have no right to lecture me!" He snapped, finger pointing at the boy, who raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by his father's anger. "You are my son! Not to mention my charge," he added, in a tone that suggested he had some sort of control over Wyatt, clearly forgetting whose son he was. Cole blinked at what Leo said. Going by what he said, it meant that Wyatt still have a whitelighter. Wyatt, the one who openly committed acts that the Elders had a lot of problems, and Chris ... surely that meant that Chris had one as well?

"Who's Chris' whitelighter?" Cole asked, in a very casual tone. Wyatt blinked, turning to look at his father expectantly. Leo, still glaring at Wyatt, didn't turn to face Cole. His reply came through gritted teeth, as though it was information that he really didn't want them to know about, let alone be the one to tell them it.

"Chris doesn't have a whitelighter." There was another flurry of white lights after Leo spoke. Frowning slightly, he turned, only to get punched.

"Like hell he doesn't," Victor Bennett glared at his son-in-law.