Opening his eyes slowly, he just sat in bed, enjoying the darkness inside the bedroom, mind gradually waking up. Rubbing his face, he shook his head, smiling slightly. Last thing he could recall was dreaming about being in the Transfiguration room back at Hogwarts when he was but a child. McGonagall's stern eyes took everyone in, ensuring everything was in order prior to her beginning the lesson. It was not the first time Talbott dreamt about being in class, back then his nerves were stretched thin, his own insecurities and anxiety weighing down on him heavily.

Still, Transfiguration used to be one of his favorite subjects. And now, it reminded him of much more simpler times.

Sitting up, the ticking clock indicated five in the morning, him cocking a brow. It was the day when Talia would send a letter, she was consistent in that aspect. Last week it arrived very early in the morning, however now he woke as per normal, not due to an owl taping at one of the windows.

Before the thoughts could form any further, bare feet hit the floor, Talbott making his way to the kitchen through the dark, stove being turned on, a fresh pot of water set to boil slowly. Below the window, the streets were empty, not a soul stirring at such an early hour. Usually people started waking up around six, lights from across the street shining through various windows, each person tending to their morning rituals before going about their days.

However for him, six rarely caught him inside the apartment anymore. The intricate dance of silhouettes behind heavy curtains stopped eluding him around the time Talia left England.

Staring at nothing in particular, worry started to slowly shine through. For the last few months she had never failed to send a letter, his eyes travelling to the small calendar on the wall, making sure he had not gotten the date wrong. Perhaps he made a mistake, however the date refused to change under his harsh gaze.

Blinking slowly, he exhaled, nostrils flaring as images of her being hurt invaded his mind at full force, vivid pictures painting the sturdy walls of his brain. While the Dragon Sanctuary was on of the best placed in which to hide someone, it was also extremely dangerous. Long dark lashes fluttered as he tried to recall her file and what grades she had in Care of Magical Creatures, the thought soon being tossed aside as nothing could have prepared her for dragons.

Turning off the stove, he decided to get dressed instead and have his coffee at the Ministry. Maybe he would be so lucky as to run into Arthur Weasley and direct the conversation towards Charlie. That way he would surely learn something about Talia as well.

He almost ran down the stairs in his hurried pace, ready to tear through the building door, when he stopped in his tracks, having to do a double take. Inside the small metal post box with his apartment number, he could make out the corner of a letter sticking out. Patting his pockets, he cursed under his breath since the small key was back upstairs, somewhere on the book shelve, inside a wooden box Talia bought, that if memory served him right since he never used it or had any need for it.

Since there was no one in sight, or any sounds alerted him to someone approaching, he slowly stepped closer, holding his breath as he carefully pinched the corner sticking out between steady fingers, pulling at an agonizing pace, trying not to tear or damage the letter.

Surely enough, Talia's name stared back at him, the handwriting undeniable. Looking at the stamps, his brows furrowed "Why Muggle post?" it still said Romania, however the village name was not a familiar one, he would have to look it up on a map, if it even appeared.

Heading outside, he carefully opened the paper envelope, pulling out the letter, reading and analyzing everything at the same time. It started out in similar fashion, for which he was thankful. Of course she addressed the fact that he had not offered her a single sign, it told him she was suffering due to the distance created, he could read between the lines when it came to her.

Or at least he wished he still retained that ability.

"I know why you are doing what you're doing, but I can't imagine it's easy on you. You are once again alone by choice, just like before."

Looking up as he reached a red light, he smirked. She was calling him out, even after so much time, she still knew things as if she was there with him. Crossing the street, he focused back on the letter, talk about her going to the village and taking the car making him let out a sigh. That was the reason why she sent the letter via Muggle post.

Again talk about Felix Rosier appeared in the letter, it ending abruptly with her name only.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Talbott stared at the last lines "I bet you ten galleons that Rosier will yell at me again, I swear, he knows nothing about Muggle contraptions and I intend to torture him with everything I know. This is my goal for the upcoming summer.

Take care of yourself, don't forget to eat a proper meal at least once a day.

Talia"

"Excuse me?" turning the paper, the letter did indeed end there, nothing else being hidden beneath the surface. While Talbott did not interact with Felix per say, he still knew of him and his family. Being the Slytherin prefect, he had seen him patrolling the school on many nights, taking points from students who dared to not fall in line with the rules that were set in place, him being especially strict with students from his own house.

Did he actually know Talia? She never mentioned him, however his name appeared more than once in her letters. Taking in a deep breath, he settled down. The same was to be said of Charlie. She surely just got closer to both of them and since the camp is full of men, of course she would get along with some of them.

Talbott felt like slapping himself.

Firstly, because he sent her to such a dangerous place, where she was the only woman. Secondly, because he knew the Rosier family was a pure-blooded family, infested with Death Eaters. The very idea drained him, the possibility of her being in the middle of nowhere with someone raised by Death Eaters. What if his family worked with the Cranes back during the Wizarding War?

Entering the Ministry, he actually contemplated grabbing the files on Felix's family however Talbott knew not much would be in them in order to put his mind at ease. Nothing could really. As he poured a cup of coffee, a yawn caught him off guard. He was tired and knew well enough that was when things got worse and his wild thoughts got the better of him.

Without even realizing it, his hand reached towards the Phoenix pin, finger tips dancing across it.

He still had not managed to write a proper letter, at least proper in his opinion. How much longer could Talia continue to stretch herself thin and reach out without a sign? Mirunna was right, he needed to do something, he needed to make a decision. They left things floating around between there, initially he wanted for her to go away for a few months to just take the heat off her. But now?

Now things were different and he blame no one but himself.

Reaching inside his pocket, he dug around producing his wallet, taking out a small picture of them, eyes lingering on her infectious smile, one she chose to show only him. He knew that if he stood in front of her, Talia would be able to read him like an open book. But what if that was exactly how it should go down? What if whatever he could not express into words, he could actually show her in person?

And just like that, the idea sparked inside his head, loud and bright, not letting him settle down.

As people started arriving for work, he already made up his mind over and over again, everything leading to the same result. Making his way towards Moody's office, his mind was already coming up with the dialogue. He would keep it simple and short, not bore him with unnecessary details. He always worked overtime, so a few days off should not be an issue. Once those would be secured, he would swing by the Portkey office and see when a portkey would be available for Romania.

"Winger, just the man I wanted to see." Talbott's brows rose slightly upon hearing Moody's words "We got a report for several dark wizards and witches, I need you and Tonks to check it out." Extending an address, Talbott nodded once.

"I need to discuss something with you." Keeping a straight face, he swallowed thickly "After the mission."

"Good." Moody ushered him away, eyes going back to the several scattered papers on his desk.

He basically ignored Tonks as she chatted away about this and that, his mind focusing on something else entirely. The very idea of sitting in front of Talia once more made his heart beat wildly against his rib cage. Even if the meeting would more than likely be tense due to what he had done, it would still mean he would get to see her, to have her in front of him after so much time.

By now the picture he had given Tonks should have reached her, which meant she would more than likely mention it in the letter that should arrive the following week.

What if he could make his way to the Sanctuary prior to the weekend? Or even leave after his shift on Friday. He could go home and pack a few clothes, have the bag ready, not like he needed to take with him a lot.

"Oi mate? Where are you?" Tonks waved a hand in front of his face.

Blinking a few times, he looked over at her "You were saying?"

Scoffing, she rolled her eyes "A lot of things, but apparently you are lost in a world of your own, today more than usual." Glancing over at him, she noticed how he just nodded absentmindedly "Are you serious?" Tonks raised her voice, hair turning a shade of red "Are you even capable of going through with the mission?"

"Yes." He answered short and dry, earning another scoff "Plus, we just need to investigate if the rumors are true. You know how paranoid everyone is." Looking over the address once more, he focused on the building across the street.

It looked abandoned from the looks of it, windows being bared by wooden planks, along with the main entrance. At a first glance, it looked as if no one has set foot on the property for years with how tall and untamed the surrounding vegetation appeared, however they did notice stepped on grass, the trail leading to the back of the building.

With wands out at the ready and silent steps, they split up in order to secure the perimeter before meeting at the back entrance. There were no sounds coming in from inside, however a spell could have easily seen to that. They still had to be vigilant, not rely on what they could see or hear, since most of the time, nothing was as it seemed.

He could barely trust his own senses half the time when it came to magic.

Rounding the corner, Tonks arrived shortly after, giving him a curt nod. As expected, the back door was indeed opened, however it was too dark inside to make out anything in particular. Pushing the door even further, Talbott was the first to step inside, sharp eyes circling the room, tip of his wand illuminating the surroundings.

As soon as light was cast, a spell hit him directly in the chest, sending him flying backwards, air leaving his lungs completely. Tonks immediately retaliated as he tried to get back on his feet only to double over in pain. Hot crimson blood painted his skin and clothes, which he tried to ignore, jaw tight and nostrils flaring as he lifted his wand, sparks flying from it.

His entire body was on autopilot as he moved, pushing through weak defenses, overpowering their attackers. His name fell from between gritted teeth once tight ropes held them in place, fact that made his chest swell up with pride on one side, while on the other, panic ate away at him. If he was already making a name for himself, it meant he was one of the good ones. It meant those who opposed the law talked about him, warned others of what he could do. However that was also very dangerous, for him and those close to him.

And that was and could never be a good sign.

As he arrived at the hospital in order to receive the necessary help, he felt weak yet agitated at the same time. Not due to the pain that was draining him, wounds would heal, this type of damage would surely incapacitate him for a few days, however he would be back in the field the following week as if nothing happened.

Yet as Moody visited him in order to get the mission report, as he sat in that hospital bed, concerns of various kinds started surfacing "Good job out there today, could have had you not getting hurt, but at least you caught them." Talbott only nodded, waiting to see if there were any other questions he wanted to address "You wanted to tell me something this morning, what was it?"

Staring at the ceiling, Talbott exhaled slowly "Nothing, it was not important."

Moody did pause, taking a few moments to examine his former student before deciding not to pry "Get some rest then, see you when you're healed."

Talbott did not utter another word. He just sat there, staring up at the white ceiling, wishing he could stop his mind from working. How could he even think that going to Talia would be a good idea? What if someone followed him, what if someone connected him to her new location and go after her?

He was making enemies with each passing day. How could he go to her without the promise of safety? How could he face her knowing well enough what dangers linger around him?

He would never do something that could put her in danger.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled slowly.

He could not go to her, he could not write.

He needed to have her think he wanted nothing to do with her.

However that was not something he truly wished for. Yet, he could not come up with another scenario, a proper way of seeing things through. They were all risking her life with each letter sent and now she was also travelling outside the magical barriers of the sanctuary.

Was she restless? Why would she even step a foot outside?

He needed a plan, he knew it, deep within his soul that he could not just let her go, he needed to give her something, a sign to make her hold on a little longer, for if he lost her entirely, he felt as if he could never heal, never attempt to be normal.

Gritting his teeth, he sat up, ignoring the pain radiating across the skin. At the end of the day, it could not even compare to the one inside his own heart.