Veridicus

by Anguigena

It's been centuries since they've last seen their world, and now it's time to face the people they left behind, one step at a time. Mild HPDM.

Title: Veridicus

Author: Anguigena

Email: R for Violence, Language, and Adult Themes

Category: Drama/Action/Suspense

Summary: Two score decades have passed, and the two lost ones must finally return to their homeland. But weathering the storm is not easy, and neither are sure they want to return.

Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Notes: Male/Male Relationships. Starts Canon-wise, almost turns into an Alternate Universe.

Veridicus

Prologue – Weathering the Storms

"Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near." --- Sun-Tzu, the Art of War, Chapter I.

"You ready for this?"

"Nope."

"How did we ever get ourselves into this mess?"

"Don't ask me. You're the one that suddenly landed on my front doorstep."

"Bloody ponce."

"You know it!"

The two wizards grinned playfully, their smiles tinted with a seriousness and battle-hardened weariness brought on only from experience. Silver-blonde and emerald-tinted ebony tresses were tied back loosely with bits of leather ribbon, keeping the hair out of the faces of two young men, around the ages of twenty-five. Adorned in full battle regalia, the hardened and protected robes sliding over them with the ease of ones well-worn, the split thighs adorned with protective runes and symbols unknown to most of the wizarding world. The slightly loose tunics were also designed with runes, the glittering dragonscale of protective armour glinting under the pale moonlight of darkening night. The dragonhide boots moved gracefully, well-worn and slightly tattered, bloodstained and tired, the protective skins sliding along their calves and stopping just under the knees.

The taller, more graceful of the two pushed his pale blond bangs out of his eyes, grey eyes staring impassively at the glistening orb which held an image of a great castle and its lake, the proud banners flying over its parapets, grey stones humming with protective and tracing wards, the dark mortar glinting gold with waylaid spells. He fingered his black overrobe, the trailing ebony and silver cloak wrapping around his body like caressing shadows. "We'll have to return their someday; it is our duty."

Saddened, curving lips breathed out in a miniscule sigh. Incandescent emerald eyes rimmed in molten gold tightened imperceptibly, gazing coolly at the same orb suspended in a clearing of oak and pine. Such a beautiful, terrible thing… The crimson runes on his own battle cloak glowed slightly, shifting and mingling, creating a slight glow before fading into their usual dark splendour. "I know, Aure. Just… there are so many memories."

So many unwanted memories…

Darkened, grieving storm-coloured eyes broke their gaze from the rotating crystal orb, pale pink lips twitching slightly, curving downward in a mournful gaze. "We'll have to face them sometime, Darien… And it hasn't even been that long; no more than two weeks have passed here in the other plane."

His voice cracked near the end, and they both understood; it was painful to think of the time they had spent away from the world they had loved, training and living in another plane, living for centuries and desperately grasping at memories that were slowly fading away. Darien could barely remember the brown eyes of Hermione Granger, or the smiling gaze of Ronald Weasley. Those were long forgotten memories, of centuries long gone past and barely recalled, and it was painful.

"Do you remember…?" The ebony-haired man whispered sadly, his hand lingering on the image of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, tightening as faded memories drifted through his mind. "Do you remember?"

Aure merely turned his gaze back to the shimmering sphere, eyes glinting in flickering moonlight. "Do I remember…? I do not know…" His hand found its way to Darien's, and there was that tiny, comforting squeeze of hope, that what they had to do was the right choice. "Perhaps I remember all those centuries ago, but now they are dying, drifting away, and we cannot help but be different."

His eyes bled with hot, trickling tears, and he glared wetly at the spectacle before them. "How can I remember? They will be like children; we will not know them any longer! How can we just go back…? To – to that…"

"I do not know." Darien's soft response filtered through silent air, the silent breath of warm air giving the minuscule essence of comfort. "I do not know, but we will muddle through and weather whatever the Gods send our way, like we always do."

"Like we always do…" The silent echo faded softly in the night air, as both Mages were lost in painful, regretful memories.

Broken whispers trailed to the ground, weeping shreds of silver fire. "Do I remember…" The great translucent orb glittered, shifting into a vast image of an empty Great Hall, devoid of the chattering, moving mobs of the students, the absence of the teachers a conspicuous glance. Aure smiled, a smile of regret for everything they had lost and forgotten and his fists clenched, the long, narrow scar that ran from the webbing between his thumb and forefinger and twirled around the wrist, narrowly missing the artery, whitening and growing taut against his pale skin. "Look at us…" Images of long forgotten days arose in their minds, of great crimson train rides and holding back redheads before they could physically injure a blonde ferret-faced child. Two bodyguards and the same blonde lay on the floor, tentacles growing on their faces, while a group of triumphant teens stood before them with their wands raised high. "Look–" Aure's voice cracked, and from his sleeve he pulled out a long, battered wand, eleven and three-quarters inch in length, delicately carved from rowan and dragon heartstring. "Look at us – we were so naïve. So innocent and free to the plague that befell our world."

He laughed a bitter laugh, and held up his wand. "That innocence has gone now, lost for these past centuries here. When we go back, are you prepared to face them? Prepared to stare into the great eye of everything you have lost?"

Darien was silent, his emerald eyes closing in pain, carefully pulling out his own ten and a quarter inch holly and phoenix wand, running a scarred and burn-encrusted hand across its length. Then he spoke, his voice dead and emotionless, yet his eyes burned with unshed tears. "We will someday remember – we must. When we stand there, adorned in such, they will turn and stare and wonder, but we will not know them, for Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have disappeared. We will come in as the 1st Rank War Mages, come in as battle-hardened warriors from another plane, come in as the two who will defeat Voldemort."

The whisperings of the soft voice was almost unheard. "No… Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy vanished, two days before the starting feast. And everyone will have been wondering where they were, and when we slide through Hogwarts' wards and appear on her Great Hall doorsteps, they will know. They will know and they will wonder, and we cannot provide them the information."

In the rare moment of melancholy peace, both Mages were oblivious to all those around them, gazing into an orb which contained what they had almost and nearly forgotten. Darien laughed softly, a bitter reminiscence of better days. "Heh… Do you remember how we got here? Such a plight that was…"

Aure attempted a tiny smile, gratefully thanking the younger Mage with his expressive blue-tinted silver eyes. "Yes – it was entirely your fault you know. At least you knew something about travel cross-dimension; in the wizarding world it's unheard of."

"It's not my fault my cousin watched Star Trek when he was younger!"

They both laughed quietly, bitterly. "Let's prepare for our dramatic flourishing entrance then!"

Both War Mages fell silent, leaning against the other for comfort. This was their home, not Hogwarts anymore. They have lived here for over two score decades, in the war-ridden land of Xathe, travelling as the famous group of Elite that fiercely tore down any uprisings of the great Dark. The sight of blood was an everyday occurrence, killing and striking to maim almost as natural as breathing. The Darkness here was greater than in the wizarding world; here the Darkness was brought on by the gods fighting to dominion over the vast land, by demons from the Otherworld. In the wizarding world the Darkness was nothing but mere baubles, humans flaunting forbidden power at the world. No one there knew true darkness. And here, even the Dark knew that without light there could not be shadows, and the light knew that without the dark there would be no flames. Both sides were both fighting to change the balance, the light just as ruthless as the dark, both snarling and tearing with sharp claws, ripping up the other's flesh like a battle of domination among dogs. But they both knew – and ignored – the reality, that there must be a Balance, and whatever they were to do was going to be balanced out later. It was one of the only consistent features of all universes, that everything was ruled by the Balance. There had to be an equal number of dark and light, to create the Balance, and the strange, ethereal power that ruled over even the gods would change the fates to balance it; it didn't care who died or what happened, it would make sure all would bow before the great Balance.

Both tore their minds away from memories forcefully; instead, they held an arm up to the heavens, proudly displaying worn dragonhide gauntlets with depressions from great claws rendered into them. They stood for a moment, waiting expectantly, and with a silent whoosh of displaced air, two small, spiralling dimarres appeared, each about a foot in length with long, whippy tails, and jewelled eyes. Cousins of the great dragons, they were thin and lithe, tiny scales glittering fiercely, grinning viciously to show pearly silver teeth.

The one bedecked in silver fire landed with a silent whump upon Darien's bracers, poking out a pointed, forked pink tongue and gently washing its nose, great emerald orbs whirling in curiosity. The seemingly frail, translucent wings folded around the tiny body, the whippy tail dangling off the Mage's arm. The dimarre stared expectedly at Darien, and waited for its companion to land.

The other dimarre, made of emerald flames, slapped the air before Aure with his wings and causing the Mage's hair to fly back on his head, before gracefully spiralling down and curving around his neck. Aure put his arm down with a rueful smile, laughing slightly. "He never did do anything I said." The dimarre chirped in indignation and amusement, slit storm-grey eyes whirling and crinkling. The thin, spiked tail tickled Aure's chin, and he twitched.

: Dragonlings, hullo. : Both Mages called in unison to the twin Dimarres, speaking in sibilant hisses of Parseltongue. They had discovered that Parseltongue was the universal language of the serpents, whether it be dragons, dimarres, wyrms, or true snakes. And when both Mages had performed the complex power-sharing bond needed to overcome the great Lord, the Merchant of Shadow, they had both inherited the language of the Serpents from Darien.

: Hullo, young ones. : The more sedated dimarre, the emerald-crested one, settled appreciatively on Darien's arm, giving him a gentle lick with her tongue. : It is time then:

Aure and Darien stared sadly at the glowing orb that had been momentarily forgotten in the rush of memories. : Yes... Time to fly and break the binds that chain us to the nest… :

The mated dimarres, Viridian and Caesius, the green and the grey, sighed in wistfulness, giving their bonded licks and caresses as reassurance. Aure put his hand gently on Caesius, the usually playful and mischievous cousin of the dragon sombre and silent, wrapping his tail tightly around the tall Mage's shoulder.

: We will face what is coming, and we will face it with honour… : The dimarre whispered softly, his husky voice twining with the sibilant hisses of parseltongue. : We will rise with great claws to strike the wind with our wings and force back the gales… :

: …And we will weather the great storm and ride upon the breeze with great joy; we will rain crimson tears upon our enemies and tear their flesh with our teeth, for we are dimarre, and our legacy is to fly free with the travelling winds. : Viridian softly finished the chant, the ancient words twining about their hearts and gave the tiniest resemblance to hope and light.

Darien and Aure joined hands, pale and tanned fingers intertwining together as they whispered soft, unknown words of a forbidden language, the harsh, dark words twisting and writhing like the demons of the Otherworld; and the orb grew bright, its incandescence blinding those watching, veins of cracking crystal appearing on its surface and the serene image of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry fading, static shining among its surface.

With a great beam of light and the tearing of shrieks from the Demon Plane, the great silver orb gave a shudder, and cracked into splinters, pale crystal tinkling and fading into nothingness. And in the remains there lay a great gaping vortex of ebony, swirling like a dark onyx void, pulling all inwards.

"Ready…?" Aure's soft voice broke through the wild calls of the portal, the wind whipping his hair wildly about his face, the leather cord broken and flung away, lost. His face was pale, more pale then usual, eyes flattened and dead, the tiniest flicker of unease and fear drifting through their murky depths.

"Never." The shaking voice of Darien brought the weakest quirk of lips to Aure's mouth, and they clutched their hands tightly together, and walked calmly through the inky blackness of the portal, and fell into nothingness.

.&.

"Now in order to kill the enemy, our men must be roused to anger; that there may be an advantage from defeating the enemy, they must have their rewards."
--- Sun-Tzu, the Art of War, Chapter II.

.&.

The wading of inky black mist faded slowly, and the group of Mages and Dimarres found themselves on the lawn in front of Hogwarts, watching the great Earth sun set, casting pale purple shadows over deepening blue. The great double doors that rose high, carved with great stone arches was closed, the golden wards glimmering over the stone like molten gold, the humming of protection whispering in their ears. Everything was peaceful, the ethereal mist of protective wards and settings glimmering in the setting sun, casting the stones with a rose pink light that washed out faded dark grey. Beautiful…

They walked carelessly through the gates, not bothering to open them, their beings fading as they sank through the iron-wrought arches, entering the entrance chamber on swift and silent wings, their black travelling cloaks whirling about them, the dimarres on their shoulder glaring and raising themselves to their full and stately height of a foot and some more, jewel eyes whirling in worry and protectiveness, the slits dilated and senses on the high.

The two Mages turned to face the smaller, less expressive double doors leading to the Great Hall. These were almost always open, but for the welcoming feast they were closed, the carved wooden frames humming and crackling with power. Darien and Aure bowed deeply, the thin wisps of their hair framing their face, covering lowered and respectful eyes, the cloaks trailing around their lithe bodies, concealing the weapons they carried within.

Placing their hands together in a Xathen show of respect to the great god, with ring and pinkie twined and the index and middle touching at the tips, creating a steeple of respect, and the thumbs resting together under the steeped fingers, they intoned in unison, an eerie and mythical voice that was husky and deep, "Great Hogwarts we ask your permission to welcome us into your wards, and we in turn give our utmost respect for your care. We ask of you, may we walk through your doors unharmed?"

The great doors hummed and sparkled, and the conscience of the great Hogwarts sparkled and whispers of reassurance spread through their fingertips. She, the great castle of old, had given permission to access the castle without heed, without regret, which usually only the headmaster (and sometimes not if the headmaster was not worthy) would be able to access. She sent a great wave of welcome, and the double doors opened with a great creak, revealing the chattering students, who were unusually subdued.

In a quick analysis of the premises, they reviewed the facts they had just been given. The Gryffindor and Slytherin tables were the most subdued, with the two most prominent figures missing – Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. From their uneasy faces most had dismissed it but were unconsciously worried. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were a little louder, more cheerful, but gazing with a wariness and fear echoed by the staff table. Their telepathic bonding opened them, the silver cords of bond humming like a plucked guitar string. : It's strange how much two people can do to an entire population. :

: Yes. : Aure agreed softly, the silver thread vibrating gently. The staff were grim-faced, worried, Albus Dumbledore missing his infernal twinkle that even after two centuries, they could not forget. Professors Snape and McGonagall were surreptitiously glancing around, eyes wary and their hands on their wands. A pang went through their hearts at the tired faces of their friends, Hermione, Ron, Pansy, Blaise… : Such children… So innocent to the ways of the world… :

Darien's hand gave a soft squeeze, lending warmth and comfort to the blonde Mage, and they straightened their battle regalia and mentally counted their weapons as they purposefully stood straight and proud as the Great Hall's doors opened.

Dumbledore's eyes opened in surprise then narrowed, motioning for the teachers to bring out their wands, which they promptly did. Darien and Aure smirked in unison, their bond humming together like a silver cord of trust as they confidently strode between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, watching the students fall silent at the black-robed strangers passing through the hall.

Darien felt a pang in his heart as he watched the slightly gaunt faces of Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and the rest of the Gryffindors in the Order, stare with suspicion at them. : It's too close… Can we please use our Codals::

Aure sighed inaudibly, his expression never changing as they walked past the familiar faces and stood at the staff table, one hand carefully resting on the SG5.4i hidden underneath his robe. Magically enhanced muggle weapons were a great advantage in war, and this was his personal favourite – a small Beretta 10mil that shot bullets of pure elemental energy that stunned and sapped 15 of their magical energy temporarily and incorporated it into the user of the gun. In this case, one Aurelius (known as Aure – dare to call him Aurelius and you'd find yourself without your privates) Hiemalis Adiun. : Very well:: he agreed silently. : We'll use the Codals. Viri and Cae will hold us. :

The dimarres on their shoulders writhed, great wings lifting in a threatening gesture. : Of course, m'dears. : Caesius grinned, a smile filled with sharp silver teeth.

The two Mages turned to the staff table, and saw Albus Dumbledore watching them with suspicion. They dropped their heads in a respectful, yet not demeaning to their Rank, and pulled out their swords, Japanese-style katanas that were decorated with runes and designs of protection and swift cutting. Holding the twin swords in front of them, they bent down on one knee and placed the sword horizontally on the ground.

"Look, we lay down our arms." They intoned in unison, husky voices echoing through the silent hall. It was the standard greeting of all those in Xathe, for if you bowed your head and lay down your most valuable arms, and intoned the greeting, it meant you were neutral and by the laws of the Gods, you could not attack or harm, nor could the other attack or harm, on the basis of neutrality.

And now they waited, the dimarres perched on their shoulders alert and wary, watching the Headmaster with bright eyes of emerald and grey.

- : - : -

When the doors to the Great Hall had burst open with a dramatic creak and whoosh of welcoming magic, Albus Dumbledore had looked up with a wary expression. The gates would not have just opened – Hogwarts herself had to give permission; it was a new safety precaution in case the Dark Lord decided to arrive when the students were defenceless and helpless.

And when two tall black-garbed strangers, shadows hiding their faces, suddenly appeared in the doorway, standing proud and wary, dressed in what reminded the Headmaster of as the old battlerobes wizards use to wear during the Medieval Ages, he motioned to the teachers, an inconspicuous and innocuous motion, to be on their guard and raise their wands.

The faces shifted, and Albus retained a sense of amusement when the teachers discreetly holstered their wands. The hissing dragons on their shoulders – weren't they too small to be dragons, the largest one could not have been more than a foot and a half long – glared around the hall, wrapping their wings protectively to the black-garbed strangers, tails whipping frantically. One raised a hand to his shoulder, and the dragon seemed to calm, nuzzling the fingers and licking it gently.

Both strangers, exuding an aura of confidence and power, stepped up to the staff table, seemingly ignoring the silence of the students and the wariness of the teachers. They bowed their heads – a sign of respect, Albus could feel – and reached into their cloaks. The headmaster and many of the teachers tensed, but could not do anything; it would be unethical to attack someone that was seemingly unarmed and friendly.

In unison, as if rehearsed thousands of times and performed with countless ease, the strangers drew from within their robes two swords, one of ebony and one of ivory. The former had grey and silver veins crackling with age and power, the latter, emerald veins of fire trailed protectively in runes of incandescence. And as one once again, they dropped to their knees and let the swords rest carefully, perfectly parallel to the staff table, and in harmony, intoned, "Look, we lay down our arms."

There was something frighteningly familiar about the voices, as though he had heard them before. Albus's eyes twinkled a bit, and the teachers lowered their wands when he nodded slightly. "Welcome, welcome!" He cried in a falsely cheerful voice. Whoever these people were, Hogwarts trusted them, for she gave off a warning of danger and torturous death if any dared to touch them. And that garnered the Headmaster's trust – to a point. The Dark Arts could confound even the hardiest of structures, even Hogwarts herself. "What can I do for you?"

The wizened old man saw the teachers exchange incredulous glances – these were perfect strangers and yet he was welcoming them with open arms! Severus in particular was still glaring suspiciously at the strangers, one hand no doubt on his many potions that he adorned. Now all he had to see was what these strangers wanted, and he could go back to his lemon sherbets.

- : - : -

Aure and Darien both frowned at the slight on their name – anyone who started a peace signal had to treated peacefully back! – but then realised the customs were different here.

: Lemon sherbets? Damn he's strange. : Aure exclaimed in silent speech, quirking an eyebrow over the Headmaster's strange expressions.

: You never knew him like I did. : Darien's wry voice came through the link, hidden behind a wall of fond exasperation. : And I never want to. : Aure retorted. Darien chuckled. : I'll do the talking then::

: No, I'll do it, you suck at political discussions. : Aure said, glancing around and tightening his grip on the stungun. : Oh shut up. :

Aure smirked, looking much like his past self, and said in a clear, travelling voice that echoed with power and arrogance, "Headmaster. We would like to speak to you privately, in your office. In ten minutes, if possible."

Oh yes, this was lovely. A lot of the students and staff were surprised (Even Dumbledore! Darien thought with glee, mentally rubbing his hands together) but the Headmaster hid it well, instead inclining his head to accept the polite demand. "Very well."

The two Mages bowed, the hood slipping down to reveal a lock of silvery-blonde and emerald-tinted ebony hair, before covering their faces in shadow once more and sliding silently into the antechamber that led straight to Dumbledore's office. The smaller of the two turned to them, and revealed his eyes, bright, twinkling emerald orbs with an inner ring of gold, and called out in a cheery voice, "Oh, and bring Remus and Severus with you, please!" before disappearing along with the blonde-haired stranger.

: Now that was funny. Did you see everyone's faces: Darien gasped sibilantly in parseltongue, gritting his fangs in amusement. The shadows that trailed with his cloak shifted slightly, as though in agreement, and Viridian sighed, exasperated. : Youngling, this is no time to be joking! We have ten minutes to map the perimeters:

Darien's eyes turned serious, and he grew grim. : I know… : Aure send a tendril of reassurance through their link, and Darien suddenly sighed, relaxing against Aure as they walked toward the ugly gargoyle that held the entrance to Dumbledore's office. Aure smirked at it as the gargoyle glowered at them, muttering to itself as it stepped away from the hidden entrance. : It knows more words than even Ellowyn! I never knew you could do that to a monkey… : Darien's voice drifted down the line, the weak attempt at humour draining him mentally. Aure gave another soft squeeze of reassurance, and flitted up the golden stairs, ignoring the portraits along the way, overwhelming his mate's fear with a feeling of love and assurance that all would go well.

- : - : -

Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, and Remus Lupin exchanged wary and confused glances. Professor Lupin was back to teach 6th year Defence Against the Dark Arts – something the Severus was sure to hate him all the more for – and now these two strangers had decided to appear in the middle of the Great Hall. And Harry was missing! Oh Harry…

"Well now!" Albus exclaimed cheerfully, the twinkle in his eyes growing ever brighter. "Be ready in ten then, gentlemen." He wandered off, looking inconspicuous as the Great Hall began to chatter, the Hogwarts Gossip Mill spinning on wheels, the water churning fiercely. How he could act so pleased and cheery when he obviously had no clue what was going on, Remus didn't know. But he got up, surreptitiously glancing at Severus, watching his onyx eyes dart after the leaving figures.

- : - : -

Both Mages waited impatiently, nervously, as their internal watches ticked down, the timer clicking away as ten minutes slowly drew past. The semi-conscious ebony cloaks shifted with them, sensing their unease and attempting to reassure their wearers. Of the two, Aure was more composed, his silver-blonde hair as impeccable as could be, every long slick in place, tucked in behind arching elfin ears, granting his high cheekbones and pointed face an aristocratic look. The flat, grey eyes stared into lost pasts as his fingers twitched, tapping against his chin in a nervous gesture. Darien, on the other hand, was fidgeting, eyes wary and bright, what looked suspiciously like unshed tears glimmering in his emerald orbs. He took several deep, calming breaths as their watches ticked down to zero, and the door in the office promptly opened, revealing Albus, Remus, and Severus.

Darien's face twisted minutely into a distant frown, and Aure's fingers tightened around Darien's hand, lending warmth and concern. As composed as they seemed to a casual observer, no doubt Severus, with his usual glares and sneers had given them the once-over, and had noted the tiny, almost imperceptible trembling of Darien's hand against the chair, and the wariness of Aure's eyes.

They were the epitome of calmness, lounging in the chairs they had conjured, the battlerobes of dragonarmour wrapping around them with the ease of those who had worn them daily. Severus could easily see that the cut and style of the dark robes revealed by the shifting shadowy cloaks were made for free movement, imbued with unknown runes most likely carved for protection, and covered all without being too tight, and loose enough to carry concealed weapons.

The young black-haired Mage took a quick peek at Aure before saying bluntly, "We're here to destroy Voldemort and his followers."

The blonde blinked at the brusqueness of his bonded's statement. Leave it to him to get everything across with the fewest possible words… No tact, no tact at all.

Indeed, the others looked quite surprised at this bold statement; their eyes widened slightly before concealing themselves in an indifferent mask, or at least, as well as they could have. As a werewolf one tended to have more implosive reactions than a cool, hard-headed bastard that's been a spy for over seventeen years. But nevertheless, Albus, in a voice that was decidedly cheerful, yet held the undercurrent of blazing power, shivering along his words and forming the influential magic that edged a person's unconsciousness to answer truthfully, spoke genially, "What do you mean by that?"

Now Remus, with the effects of a full moon waned still upon him, had the increased smell of any wolf, and was wrinkling his nose, looking uneasy and a bit hopeful at the scents which he was sure to recognize. : Dearie me, he's looking my way. Oh do I feel faint. : Aure's telepathic voice sound high and breathy – like the Fat Lady after Sirius had kissed her. Darien laughed suddenly, effectively hiding it into a cough at the last moment. No one seemed to notice, as intent as they were on trying to figure the two strangers out.

Aure interrupted smoothly, his aristocratic voice breaking through the stupor Darien's voice had taken the wizards into. "We wish to help you on your war – a war which you are sorely losing – and then we will leave, and you will never hear from us again. We will eradicate all threats for you, taking the final blow, and then we shall return home."

: Well, that was concise. : Darien's dry voice broke through Aure's thoughts. : And you're obviously over your laughing fit. Good to know old and dying jokes have their appreciation set upon you. I can ony hope your sense of humour doesn't change on us yet again. :

They turned their minds back to the three wizards before them, gazing into their scrutinizing gazes with calm iciness. Darien's heart pounded in his chest, the silent fabric of the spidersilk tunic underneath his robes moulding to his erratic chest. : Should we show ourselves::

Aure shrugged in his mind, the bursting of flashing colours bright along the bond link. : We'll have to do it sooner of later; we might as well get to it. : He cleared his throat, drawing up a hand to his mouth; he deliberately showed the stiletto's strapped to his arms. "We might has well uncover ourselves; perhaps then you would deem it welcoming to review our proposition."

Both, once again in the eerie unison that scared the wizards watching the black-robed figures with trepidation, lifted their hoods to reveal a tall young man with blonde hair tinted with silver, every hair half a shade of blonde and half a shade of silver, wreathing his head like a crowned halo, and a ebony-trussed man, slightly smaller than the previous, his hair stripped in shades of dark green, alternating and creating dark shadows among the blackness of his messy nest. Piercing grey eyes with hints of sapphire blue gleamed at them calculatingly, the incandescent emerald orbs with the strange rim of gold peering at them without the slightest show of emotion. Both waited, watching.

They were not disappointed. Remus stared at them, feral amber eyes glaring before he snarled, rising to his feet in irate rage. The blood coursed through the lycanthrope, lighting his eyes in fierce gold, the wolf rising within as strong and as steady as the moon's call. Severus, his usually emotionless eyes widened in shock, clutched the chair arm unsteadily.

"Harry!"

"Draco!"

- : TBS : -

12