Disclaimer: Check first chapter for full disclaimer and other warnings.

Chapter 20 – Wild Side

After a few days of grieving, Michael had to continue operating his stall, at least to keep his mind working properly. His daughter's state wasn't improving, but Gabriel stayed with her all the time, so he wasn't as worried leaving them as he would have if she had been alone.

The teenagers spent the days walking around town, hand in hand, seldom saying anything, but finding refuge in each other's presence. During the nights, Joan was often plagued by nightmares, and several times, Gabriel found himself in her bedroom, kneeling near her, holding her hand and stroking her sweating face to calm her. At one time, he felt that she was holding to his hand as if it was a lifeline, and he resolved never to leave her alone until she healed. If she could be healed at all. The day following that night, he and Michael installed the couch in her bedroom, and he slept there.

She was still having nightmares, even if they were fewer and farther between, and he was regularly awakened by her whimpers and cries, and then stayed up for a good part of the night. When he was holding her hand, he had time to reflect about things.

During one of these thinking sessions, holding her hand, he thought about his Hideaway. Would it be possible to bring another person with him?

He sometimes thought about the thugs who did that to her. Each time, he found himself wishing them an agonizing death, but he quickly calmed himself, because Joan's agitation would start again when he thought about them.

Most of the other thoughts were about his strange transformations. He couldn't explain them, but it felt good each time. One time, being up around midnight, he tried to do it right there. His right hand being quite taken, he raised his left arm, and imagined it as a lion's paw.

Nothing happened.

He shrugged it off. Of course, nothing would happen! Nothing had happened the first time he had tried to change himself, when he had woken up with a golden fur, because...

...because he hadn't concentrated enough.

He raised his arm again, frowning, concentrating, and remembering the lion's grace of movements when he had seen them in the park. He closed his eyes, concentrating on a muscled paw, imagining the strong muscles, the golden fur, the claws. He suddenly felt a tingling, slowly starting from his shoulder and soon encompassing his whole arm. Not only the skin like last time. His whole arm felt like it was pierced by a thousand needles for a whole minute. He gasped at the pain but kept concentrating. His mind was ablaze but he kept concentrating. When the pain subsided, he opened his eye.

What he saw made him gasp, again.

He had a paw, now.

He tried to wiggle his fingers, but nothing moved. Instead, inch-long white claws unsheathed themselves from his golden fur covered new arm.

Excited now, he tried to transform his head like he had unconsciously done earlier. He closed his eye, and envisioned the lion's head, including its throat and mane. It was more difficult than the arm, because he had to change many more organs than just skin, muscle and bone. He spent five minutes in self-inflicted agony before opening his eyes again. He couldn't see himself and didn't dare removing his hand from Joan's grasp, but his eyes were both working, and his tongue could lick his face like before. He sighed in satisfaction of being able to do something like this, but the sound that escaped his throat wasn't a sigh.

It was a deep purr.

He jumped in surprise, and his move made Joan stir. Panicked about his state, and not having time to concentrate, he took the best decision he could think of. He took her hand in his again, laid himself alongside her, hiding his head and paw in the bed sheets. And he waited, hoping that she wouldn't wake completely.

When it was clear that she was asleep again, he sighed.

And the purr escaped his throat again.

Joan's move then surprised him, as she pushed herself closer to him and sighed in contentment. Surprised at her reaction, he purred again and she sighed again. Turning his head to watch her, he was surprised to see a smile on her face. If this was soothing her, he thought, he would continue. He purred for a good part of the night, only pausing to transform his paw back into a human arm. Tired, he stopped when the bedside clock indicated 4am, and had a hard time concentrating to transform his head back into his own. After ten minutes of tingling in his face, he felt he was back to his original state, and slumped on Joan's bed.

"I should have known."

The tone wasn't angry, but serious enough to bring his senses back. He was lying in a soft bed, not the harder couch as usual, and sat up with a start. Michael was in the doorway, frowning at them. True, he was in Joan's bed, and, judging by Joan's position, they had been unconsciously cuddling after he had passed out. But Michael's serious tone was denied by his twinkling eyes and curled lips. To Gabriel's inquiring expression, he nodded towards his daughter, who was stirring in her sleep. The smile that was there was a reward in itself for all the nights that he had spent staying up.

He wasn't completely tired because of them, though: he had told Michael that, when he was staying with his daughter in the mornings, he wanted to wander in the city to ponder about things. Michael, suspecting that it was about his grieving about Grace, hadn't inquired about where. During a couple of hours, then, Gabriel isolated himself in his hideaway to sleep his tiredness away. With the special rooms' time frame, he could sleep a whole night in two hours anyway, before going back to the fair and Joan.

That morning, a happier Joan took her breakfast with them, and Michael, while engaged in the conversation, didn't dare to ask the question that was burning his lips. At the end of the meal, though, he couldn't hold it anymore.

"Why are you happy this morning?" Seeing her falling face, he quickly amended. "I mean, I want you to be happy, and all, but if I can push things to make you happy, I'd want to know which ones." Sensing he was babbling, he lowered his voice, and muttered. "I hope I'm understandable now."

Surprisingly, her light laughter echoed in the room at his comment. "I slept well, dad. I haven't had a nightmare, and I even dreamt. I was jumping around with big cats, and one of them even cuddled with me afterwards."

Looking at her, Michael could only wonder about it, until he looked at Gabriel. The boy was obviously happy about her, but was also avoiding his gaze. Strange...

Still, if she was happy, he didn't see anything wrong about them. He had to make sure with Gabriel that he wasn't to sleep in her bed regularly. He was her father after all.

The end of holidays came soon enough and the back-to-school time rolled around, the kids soon finding themselves on the start of the next term. Michael went back to his job as bank teller, and Gabriel and Joan went back to school. They had talked about the episode a little bit, Joan obviously uncomfortable, and had decided that they weren't to mention it with their friends. For the moment.

The school schedule had a period where they could do as they please, but were encouraged to take part in the proposed activities. The previous term, Gabriel had chosen a crash course in English environment, which took him up-to-date with the current events of the world. Kevin had chosen a computer basic programming course, which had introduced him to cryptography, and Jason preferred to visit museums. Tamara had wanted to participate in an additional athletic course, and Joan preferred a writing club.

Each term, most of the activities changed, and, even if they could take the same again, they had to choose new ones to allow everyone to choose every activity they wanted at some point. Kevin took a gaming group, Tamara chose another sport not involving water, and Jason went into the writing club that Joan had just left. Gabriel was adamant in following Joan, though, and when she chose riding, he followed. He wasn't sure to be actually able to mount a horse, but he followed nonetheless.

After a week, he was sore. After two weeks, he was sore. After three weeks, he was tempted to leave, but kept going on, as Joan was clearly enjoying herself. He only started to enjoy himself during the fourth week, when they had to push their horses to a little gallop across the field, one after the other. On the short time that it had lasted, he had closed his eye a few seconds, enjoying the sensation of wind in his hair, something that he had forgotten. During these seconds, he felt a tugging in his mind, like all the time he was experiencing something related to his past, but he also felt his back starting to tingle. Startled, he opened his eye, the feeling stopping, and he took control of his horse again. As these were horses specially bred for beginners, they were very docile and he didn't have any difficulty to halt it where he had to.

During that month, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The school jocks were preoccupied by their own problems and had left them mostly alone. The others from the group had sensed Joan's distress at one point, but had been diplomatic enough not to ask any question about it. They had continued their extracurricular activities, though, and Tamara and Gabriel had entered the local dojo, where they practised martial arts, something that improved their meditation. She hadn't talked with him about her outburst after the tattooing, however, and he was still wondering about the whole episode.

When winter holidays came, the group spent a few days in Jason parents' cottage again, and had a good time playing games outside with the snow, and inside also. They didn't try another role-playing game or magic show, and Gabriel was thankful for that.

During the holiday time, Michael was operating his stall alone, but Joan and Gabriel joined him as soon as they came back from the remote cottage. Joan was still a little wary about the fair environment, but Gabriel tried everything he could to bring smiles on her face. They all were still sad, though, about Grace not being there.

During the remaining days of vacation, Gabriel decided to see if the old bookstore was still there. After checking if Michael or Joan needed him, he informed them of his destination and left towards the nearby shop. Arriving there, he got quite a shock in discovering that the dark and previously dusty store had been decorated in a light blue colour theme, more appropriate for the current shelves' content.

The high shelves which contained large and old tomes had been replaced by lower ones containing books for children. Mathilda had completely changed the store, and there was even a small place where parents could leave their kids to play, and where in fact a few kids were playing. He re-introduced himself after all that time, and congratulated her on her achievements. He helped her for a short while, but, as the shop didn't have advanced books anymore, he was quickly disappointed and left earlier than he intended. As he left, he wasn't aware of a little girl, aged no more than 4, pointing towards him to her mother.

As he didn't know the neighbourhood at all, having spent all his time there in the fair, he decided to explore a little bit before coming back, while reflecting about his life at the same time. Almost nobody was in the street, as people either stayed at home or went to the fair. When passing on a small pedestrian bridge nearby, he kicked a loose pebble into the water stream under it, and was surprised to hear exclamations following the splash.

The stream was narrow, and there was a path on its side, which went under the bridge. He suspected that there had been people down there, and was ready to apologize, when said people showed their angry faces. And Gabriel saw red.

There, in front of him, he recognized the face of his aggressors. The ones whose leader had had a skull-decorated scarf but didn't have it now. The ones who, he was sure of that now, had assaulted Joan.

He didn't even need to go down to get them, though, as they were ascending the stairs next to the bridge. They obviously weren't in good shape, having slept outside for most of the time. On top of that, the thick rolled cigarette that graced the mouth of some of them was a clear indication of the reason behind their stoned attitude. Still, even in that state, they were four against one, and they had knives. Gabriel, though, was so enraged that he didn't think about that.

"Hey, lookit him," one of them snarled "t'is scar-face again!"

"Yeah, him, yeah."

"Let's get him!"

They lunged to him, but he was prepared, now. Not only was he more proficient with his body thanks to the martial arts practised with Tamara, he was also stronger thanks to his hideaway's weight bar. And he knew they were there, unlike his previous encounter with them. He crouched when two of them jumped on him, and with a quick leg swipe, sent them both sprawling on the walkway. He jumped up, and sent a double punch in the third underling's stomach, making him collapse and vomit his last meal. The leader, seeing them on the floor, seemed less inclined to fight, but he wasn't one to let a boy get to him. He wasn't going to flee!

He got his knife out, and Gabriel took a fighting stance, having learnt how to deflect such attacks. Besides, the other one was a little wobbly, and he thought that it was going to be easy.

He hadn't counted on the other ones getting up again, though. Even if they were still high, two of them had stood up, and they jumped on him at the same time as Johnny lunged forward. His movement could only start, and, even if it saved his life, he got his arm impaled with a nasty-looking knife. The pain brought him to his sense, and, seeing the danger, he could only think of one way out, the consequences be damned.

"Safehaven."

Nobody had noticed the man nearby, and he disappeared at the same time Gabriel did.

Hogwarts dungeons...

...which include a certain staff member's private apartments.

The man was performing his hideous monthly task. He had laughed at the werewolf when he was younger, but was now reduced to the same level, almost. It was just after dinner, and despite the food he had just ingested, he was still hungry, a state he had grown used to. He prepared the usual jar, which was empty now, and put his heavy cloak, cursing winter for its lack of resources. He then grabbed a watch and attached it to his wrist, cursing the Headmaster like he was doing ten times a year, because the muggle artefact wasn't even working. Uttering the activation word, he found himself in muggle London. Again. More specifically, he was in a trashy area where homeless and drunk people would try to spend the night unharmed, whether it is by rats, weather, or other people.

The man wasn't exactly 'other people', but in fourteen years of activity, he hadn't killed anyone, only taking what was necessary, and sometimes even leaving something in return. The temptation had been great a couple of times, though. Damn him, he thought, kicking a trashcan, and succeeding, by an unknown way, in hurting himself.

While searching for a valid prey, he reflected about his life, the decisions he had had to make, and the consequences that had ensued.

Flashback: about 15 years ago...

"Let me go!"

The shouting creatures pulled on its chains, but they were heavy, and magically reinforced. It yelled so much that some of the people surrounding it put their hands to their ears. Their leader, though, was revelling in the creature's distress. Even if that one beast didn't practise magic, they had had to track it to the darkest recesses of London, waiting for it to be hungry. They also lost two people during its capture. But now, on the floor before Voldemort and his followers, a vampire laid, yelling and cursing.

Casting a silencing spell on the trashing creature so that he could be heard by his followers, the dark lord explained that, using the vampire's blood, they could become more powerful than before. The quantity needed was to be dosed precisely, so as to give the maximum power while not letting the imbiber endangered by the sun. Voldemort was to be a dark lord in the day as well as in the night, not another vampire cell leader, like there were so many in Europe already.

However, as the vampire was famished, thus didn't have much blood, they had to give him some blood before being able to take his. And the blood that was the most powerful was the one of young virgins.

Some of the less hardened Death Eaters shuddered, but Voldemort raised his hand. No need to be angsty, he informed them, as the blood had already been fetched. He called upon a follower and the man brought him a jar which had been under a cloth. A 5-liter transparent jar full of blood. Voldemort then called upon his preferred potion maker, who was on the brink of gaining his title of Potion Master.

Severus Snape took the proffered jar, and, tilting it in front of the vampire, started to steadily pour the liquid into the thirsty beast's mouth. During the ceremony that ensued, each of the Death Eaters got a little of the vampire's blood to drink, thus becoming part-vampire themselves. The blood hunger wasn't really a problem, as they were going to dominate the world anyway, and that each and every muggle would be considered like cattle. Obviously, they hadn't thought of a defeat, and when Voldemort would be reduced to the state of a shadow a short time later, those who would be imprisoned in Azkaban would suffer from the hunger on top of the Dementor's effect.

After the bloody ceremony, Severus Snape went home, which was a small house in London suburb area. It had been his parents' secondary home and they gave it to him the day he graduated, on the condition that his 15 years old brat-of-a-sister could live in it as often and as long as she wanted.

Melinda. His sister.

When he arrived home, he called for her to indicate that he was home, but she wasn't there. He spent the following week adjusting to his new powers and rampaging with his Death Eaters comrades to quench their newly-acquired thirst. After two weeks of having no news about her, something she had never done before, he asked his parents, but they were as surprised as him because they had though she was with him. He began to search for her whenever and wherever he could. That's in this state of mind that he got called once for a Death Eater meeting and its subsequent attack. When leaving the meeting area, though, which was the same as the one where they had taken blood from the vampire, he noticed a darkened room with someone lying in it, behind a half-closed door. Someone vaguely familiar. If the door wasn't closed, the person couldn't be dangerous, he reflected, before separating from the others and entering the room. What he saw, though, made him retch.

There, lying in a grotesque posture on the cold stone floor, with a skin as white as chalk but marred with putrefaction, was his sister. Judging from the wound on her jugular and the rope on her feet, she had been emptied from her blood like a pig, and had been left there afterwards. The infamous jar was there too. His stomach heaved again when he remembered pouring blood in the vampire mouth. Virgin blood. Her blood. Which now flowed in his own veins. His subsequent yell reverberated in the large house, unheard by the other Death Eaters, who had left the premises already.

He had joined the Death Eaters full of love for a fleeting woman; he would leave them full of hate for their deed. Taking his sister's body with him, and still grasping the jar, he Apparated home before calling the man he would have called last an hour ago. The man he had been raised to hate. The man who would perhaps give him a second chance. Albus Dumbledore.

Back to the present...

Holding the jar, which he had kept to remember his sister and his hideous behaviour leading to her death, Severus Snape quieted his memories upon finding a couple of beggars snoring under a broken porch. Looking around, he saw no one, so, growing his fangs, he went to sate his hunger on the two poor men. He always took around a third of his preys' blood only, their body being able to make some to replace it. To sate his hunger, though, he had to find more people. At least six were necessary to quench his thirst and to fill the infamous jar. The jar was there to allow him to survive a month in the castle without hurting the other inhabitants, staff and students.

That night, though, luck wasn't on his side, as he hadn't deemed necessary to cast a sleeping spell on them, and the first man was a light sleeper. When the beggar felt himself being emptied of his blood, he woke with a start, and tried to rise, not acknowledging the man sucking on his neck at first. However, his movement caused his flesh to tear, and blood flew freely everywhere. He began to yell, and the vampire recoiled, looking left and right in fright. Seeing people awakening in the area, Severus Snape panicked, and he portkeyed back into Hogwarts, his jar still empty, and his hunger not sated.

When he reappeared in his room, though, he could only curse himself, as he remembered now that the portkey watch worked only once a month. If he wanted to feed some more, he would have to exit the castle by walking, and that could raise questions, especially in his disarrayed state. Only Dumbledore knew about his problem, and he didn't want to be cast out of the school, as, as Jugson had said, it was his only protection against Voldemort. Now that he possessed Jugson, though, he had more leverage on the dark lord, and could feed him false information, supposedly acquired from Jugson's charges. He had thought about a plan to discredit Pansy Parkinson, but hadn't had time to put it into motion.

The sound that suddenly came from the entrance of his quarters startled him, to the point of almost dropping the empty jar. Someone was knocking on the door, repeatedly. Not thinking about his appearance, as he had left his thoughts wander, he opened the door brusquely, ready to throw the impudent intruder away.

It was Hermione. And when she noticed his state, she yelled in fright. He had retracted his fangs, thankfully, but there was blood around his mouth, on his collar, and on his clothes. His skin was white and his eyes were bloodshot. A quick glance around made him take a swift decision. He pulled her inside and shut the door.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" he asked urgently, and not quite that politely, "You want to wake the damn castle?"

"Professor... sorry, but... are you well?"

"I'm perfectly well, thank you!" he barked. They both noticed his hands trembling, before he tried to hide them behind his back. He wasn't comfortable and preferred to sit, before continuing in the same tone "What brought you here?"

She recoiled at the voice, visibly shrinking, and answered in a little voice. "I don't have anymore potion, sir."

He quickly understood her meaning. She was addicted to the Dreamless Sleep draught now, and couldn't sleep without at least a spoonful of it. He stood up suddenly, with the intent of giving her one of the flask from his study, but he quickly fell back on his chair, dizzy from his hunger.

"Professor?"

She approached him warily, not understanding how the usually calm and collected Professor could be in that state.

"Professor?"

He answered softly. "Go away, Hermione, I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't understand. Why would you hurt me?"

"You know Lupin's monthly illness?" At her nod, he grew his fangs and continued, "I'm worse." At the time, his favourite student's well-being was more important than his teaching position, as he clearly put himself in a position to be expelled.

She couldn't believe it. They had a Professor who was part vampire! Of course, they also had a werewolf Professor, but the vampire one had taught for much longer. More than a decade, if her favourite book was correct. How comes nobody ever noticed that? He mustn't be that dangerous, if he had stayed all this time without a hitch. Remembering all that she knew about vampires, she quickly assessed his situation.

"You're hungry." It wasn't a question, and at his pained reaction, she elaborated some more. "If I give you some blood, it won't kill me? You wouldn't kill me?"

Barely understanding what she was saying, he nodded, his nostrils flaring. How could she tempt him like that! She had to leave! She had to leave, before... Wait! Why was she nearing him? Why was she...

Hermione Granger had a very logical mind. Her Professor and fellow researcher was in pain, and she could think of only one immediate way to help him without raising alarm and endangering the man's position. Out of compassion, she gave her neck to him. And it was true that virgin blood was the most restorative one for a vampire.

In a very special set of rooms...

When he arrived on the bed, bleeding from the deep wound on his arm, the room hummed for a moment, before strange sounds emanated from the bed. A silver platter appeared on the nightstand with a roll of tape on it. Gabriel didn't dare touching it, though, and, after a few seconds, the room hummed more strongly. Needles appeared on the platter, and the first one went straight to his valid arm, searching for a second before impaling in it and releasing a coloured liquid in his bloodstream. He hadn't time to ponder about this, though, as the liquid was to make him sleep. He didn't see the mechanical arm extending from under the bed, placing the bewitched medical tape on his wound. The tape sucked the toxins from the rusty blade and cleaned the wound, before sealing it and merging with the skin.

Gabriel slept for a few hours, before waking with a start. Where was he? Where were his attackers? He slowly remembered what had happened, and checked his watch. The action elicited a gasp of pain, but his wound had disappeared during his nap. The area was still sore, though.

On the spot, he decided to practise more. Strength, endurance, and transformation into a lion. He had remarked previously that it was quicker and easier to transform each time he tried. He knew how to concentrate, and his martial arts meditation techniques were helping. Reflecting about his encounter with the thugs, he decided that he couldn't attack them like that again. He had been lucky that they were high; otherwise he could have been killed. He thought some more about that, and the fact that the room had healed him, and it reminded him something from the book on transportation devices. When he had started to translate it, he had started from the beginning before going straight into chapter five. And the table of content he had decoded presented the different chapters. He suddenly remembered that one of them was about 'Activation upon Health Condition.' Linking that to the encounter, he decided to try to configure his ring to bring him in this room if he ever was unconscious due to a fight. No need to fall down and be killed by those ruffians. He also vowed to train himself so that he could transform into a lion quickly and beat them to a pulp if needed.

They spent the few remaining days of vacation in the fair, Gabriel only isolating a couple of hours a day in his hideaway to practise his lion form, read his book, and also sort through all the stuff that he had brought. The books from Ginevra Shaun took most of the bookcase, and his numerous sketchpads found a place in the second drawer. He didn't dare put something in the first, as it was the place where paper and quill had magically appeared on his request. His stuff from living with Grace found a place in the cupboard, and Madam Shaun's now-empty trunk was stowed in the sport room.

On one of his training sessions, he idly remarked that, if he could transform into a lion while concentrating on it, perhaps he could transform into something else as well? He stuck copies of his drawings of the winged lion and the phoenix in his sport room, but laid the thought aside for a while, intent on finishing his understanding of the ring's mechanisms.

Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office...

"Thank you, Nymphadora."

"I warn you, Albus. Even with your advanced age, I may hurt you if you call me by my given name again."

He chuckled, and continued with his usual twinkle in his eyes.

"Agreed then. Thank you, Miss Tonks."

She huffed. Nobody called her 'Miss' Tonks. Still that was better than her forename. What had her mother thought about? Anyway...

"Sure. Anytime. Especially as I didn't do anything. Can you explain why you called for me so urgently that I had to shorten my mission in Romania to come here so that you could cast a single spell on little ol' me?"

He smiled widely at this. "Yes, your... mission. It seems that it didn't have anything to do with dragons at first, or am I mistaken?"

She blushed. The old man was too perceptive for his own good. Truly, she had had a mission in Romania, but it only took her a couple of hours to get the information from the willing vampire. Afterwards, she had spent all her time in the dragon reserve, flirting with a muscular redhead there.

Albus continued. "You see, we had an intrusion here..."

"Here? In Hogwarts? How comes the Auror weren't notified?"

"If you would let me finish?"

"Okay. Sorry."

"Someone had entered Hogwarts through a valid portkey, but the person wasn't recognised by the castle as being a staff member. And it had happened... twice."

"You didn't catch him the second time?"

"Well... we are not specialists of law enforcement, or are we? I just put a spell on the area to be informed on the off chance that this would ever happen again, but no trap. The spell was to give me the real appearance of the person without being detected. And I only saw a blurry figure. As we, that is, the Headmistress and I, thought about it, it could have been a metamorphmagus. A young one."

Understanding dawned on Tonks' face. "And you asked me to come here to try your spell on me. Did it work? Am I... 'blurry'?" She asked this with a mischievous stance denying the serious talk underneath.

He sighed. "Yes. And no. Your image is fuzzy, but I can still discern your true features. That boy – I know only that – was totally indistinct."

They stayed silent for a while, drinking their tea and reflecting about the situation.

Northern London...

After the winter holiday break, the group of five teenagers found themselves together again. School went back on its track, and the multiple activities slowed down extracurricular activities somewhat. Gabriel still had his time-reduced hideaway, but, as he was living with Joan and Michael now, he couldn't very well use it. Michael was a light sleeper, and Joan still needed his presence in some nights.

During these trips, though, he finally stumbled upon the passage that he was looking for. The book explained how to link a destination from the ring to a given health condition. Associating this information with the content of Madam Shaun's diary, he was able to construct a sentence which, while without any sense in itself – like all activation words – would allow him to be transported into his Hideaway's safety upon involuntary unconsciousness. He was quite proud of himself, because that wording included fight-induced blackout and would also work if he was to be drugged at some point. But then he realized that he couldn't very well test it. And he had to test it, to be sure that he wouldn't stay in a fight while being out for the count. He had to ask someone to help him.

He had a choice. Four, in fact. He could ask Joan, Jason, Kevin, or Tamara. These were the only ones who suspected that something magical was going on. After all, he couldn't deny that magic existed, now. He just wasn't sure to be a wizard himself. All his experience with the ring and the hideaway had been through seemingly meaningless spoken words and external objects. The only personal thing was his lion transformation, which, while now complete, was still long and painful. And incomplete. He had reflected about it, as, each time he transformed into the whole animal, he felt something missing.

He shrugged the feeling away. If he could transform quickly, that would be sufficient for now. Returning to his quandary, he took his head in his hands. Joan was still unstable from her trials; Jason was always quiet and nobody ever knew what he really thought; Kevin would ask him endless explanations; and Tamara...

He suddenly remembered everything about her. He would ask her, and he also had other questions to ask. As he had leverage on her, about her mastering fire, he could tell her secret things while being quite sure that she wouldn't repeat them. The only question now was: how in the hell could he persuade her to make him fall unconscious?

Later, in a dojo...

"What do you want?"

As friends, they had been paired to practise moves, and he had asked her to meet him that evening.

"I want you to explain me some things, and I'm willing to offer information."

Gabriel knew that Tamara would buy that. That had been her own words, when they had been in Jason parents' remote cottage, before Halloween.

She looked left and right. "Your place or mine?"

"Yours. You know that I live with Joan now."

"True." Without entering into details, the group of friends had been informed of Grace's death, and that Gabriel was now living with the Freyrs. "Mine, then. At eight?"

He thought about it, before nodding his acceptation.

At eight that evening, and after having lied to Michael and Joan, explaining that he had forgotten to speak to Tamara about the incoming competition, Gabriel knocked at Tamara's house door. She had been waiting for him, and opened it immediately. Taking his hand, she shushed him and quickly dragged him towards her room.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" She was practically hoping in glee.

He felt cornered. He hadn't wanted to actually tell her anything, just test his ring and ask about his neck mark. He tried to get information first.

"First, I want to know why you got in such frenzy about my neck mark."

That sobered her instantly, and she looked at him hesitantly, before nodding. She reflected a little, and started to answer. After all, she had wanted information first, and was ready to provide some first too.

"First of all, as I'm about to break really old secrecy laws, I want your word that you won't repeat anything that I say now, and I mean everything. Even to me. I know my room is quite safe from prying ears, but if you are to talk about it in school, for instance..."

"I understand, I understand. Okay..." he took a breath and raised his hand "I promise not to repeat anything." Lowering his hand, he smiled to her. "Does that appease your qualms?"

She looked sternly at him, before smiling back. "You have no idea."

She turned serious again, and sat on the bed, next to him. If she was to speak about her secret, better it be in hushed tones.

"Gabriel, do you know what are fire, air, water, and earth?"

"Hmmm... yes?"

"I mean... collectively?"

"I think I saw a movie once, a Joan's place. Something about five elements..."

She laughed. "Well done! I mean, the film might be... what it might be, but at least you have an idea of what I mean." Turning serious again, she continued. "Except that there are four elements, not five. There are people in the world, Gabriel, who have control over one of these elements."

"Like... like you with the fire?" He started to understand, and that was opening strange avenues of thoughts.

"Yes. Generally, it's genetic, as my father, and his father before him, and a whole line of my ancestors were able to wield fire."

"Generally? Sometimes it's not?"

"Well, we don't have that much cases of spontaneous apparition of the talent, so we consider it mostly genetic. Furthermore, when two people with different elements decide to have a kid, the kid's talent will be... different. Let me show you."

She rose to take a blank sheet of paper, and drew four circles on it, each of them on a point of a diamond-shaped figure, and each of them intersecting the next. She continued to speak while drawing.

"See these circles? We call them spheres. Up here we have the Air element. Those people are... well, I won't talk about the others, because I don't want to be up all night, all right?"

"All right." Gabriel was curious, but didn't want to push her.

"Down there it's Earth, and then you have Fire and Water. Note that there are oppositions there. Earth people will prefer not to take a plane, and I'd rather not practise a water-oriented sport, for instance."

He nodded in understanding, and she continued.

"Almost all of us have a mark somewhere, and what had disturbed me in the tattoo parlour was that you had a mark like... like us. But it wasn't a usual mark."

"What do you mean?" He started to panic.

"Calm down, calm down. Remember that I had a flame-like mark? Others have a mark in the shape of a drop of water, for instance. You, on the other hand... you have a lightning bolt."

"What do you mean?" He couldn't bring himself to be more articulate than that.

"Look at the circles here. Remember I told you about different elements having kids? It's really rare, because people will tend to avoid their opposing element, and marry their own, or unoriented people..."

"Unoriented?"

"That's how we call those who don't have the talent. Now, see where these circles intersect? That's where the element of the kid will be, a mix of his parents'."

She went silent for a moment.

"And?" He asked.

Tamara looked at him in the eye and continued. "Following my discovery of your neck mark, I made some research, and asked my father about it too. Surreptitiously, mind you. And I found what I wanted."

"Between Fire and Earth, the mixed element is Lava. Between Earth and Water, it's Mud. Between Water and Air is Cloud, and between Air and Fire..." She paused.

"Yes?"

"It's Lightning."

A pause.

A long pause.

"You've got to be kidding me!" He stood up with a start and started to walk in circles. "I can't be... I don't..."

"Gabe..."

He didn't hear her and continued to circle the room, before stopping, facing her. "I don't have control over that, anyway."

"Gabe..."

"You showed me that you controlled fire, okay. But I can't control lightning. Besides, it's impossible!"

"Gabe!"

He stopped ranting, surprised at her annoyed tone.

"People do not control their element spontaneously, Gabriel." She explained. "They have to be trained."

"Oh."

He was silent for a moment, before asking. "Sorry about my outburst. Who will train me? You?"

She smiled. "Normally, it's better for people to be trained by their own element. But..." she raised her hand, sensing that he was trying to object again. "But it's possible to be trained by another, as long as it's not an opposite. Besides, if what I suspect is true, as you are part fire, it may be possible for me to train you efficiently."

A pause, again.

"Tamara?"

"Yes?"

"Will you train me? Please?"

"It depends, Gabriel."

"On what?"

"I gave you information. It's your turn now." she said, with an amused glint in her eyes.

"Oh. Right."

"Well?"

"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Remember that I don't have my memories to back up what I say, so it will be only projections. And we are not to speak about it again, okay? Same as what you said before."

"Okay."

"Well... I know that magic exists, and I can prove it."

"Wow. How?"

"There's a place I stumbled upon, using my ring."

He showed her his ring, but she was looking at his hand, perplexed.

"What ring?"

"There." he answered, wiggling his fingers. "Right there. Honestly, I had it since the summer, you didn't even see it?"

"Gabriel?"

"What?"

"No."

"No what?"

"I never saw it, and I still don't see it." She looked at him in wonder. "Is it invisible?"

"I don't think so... I see it. Can you touch it, at least?"

He guided her hand towards the metallic band, and she nodded, still in awe.

"Where did you get it and when?"

"It was in my vault..." he suddenly stopped and took his head in his other hand, wincing in pain at the fleeting memory.

After he calmed down, she spoke again. "Obviously, you got it before the summer, right?"

"Right. I remember having it already when waking up in that... place."

"How comes you never talked about it?"

"The subject never showed itself. Thankfully, huh? As I couldn't very well speak about an invisible ring."

"You were speaking about a place."

"Yes. My hideaway. Safehaven."

And the bedroom disappeared.

To be continued in next chapter: Alleyways...

Wow, you say, it's way too much,
I assure you the plot's such.
To keep my wild side in check,
Review, please, gimme a peck.