He wished his own two hands held the power to ban it all to fiction, for all the hurt to be but a dark fable sprung from weary minds and nothing more, ink blotched parchments filled with fast scribbled words until the paper bled on the other side and nothing more.

Such as the children stories his parents used to read to him when he was but a wee little boy. Thinking back he never truly liked them, such dark and twisted tales should not have been related to children. But at the end of the day, he was not alone, he had a family, fuelling him with courage for a new day. His mother's delicate hands caressing his hair, answering in a sweet voice any curious questions he had, casting away the fear trying to rear its ugly head.

However this was not something he could make go away with a tender touch or a soft spoken word.

Inside a hidden world full of magic there were many moments full of raw pain and he was but a victim in a cruel aftermath. And now that he looked upon the girl he learned to call partner he saw the exact same, a pained reflection of himself, as if looking into a mirror, yet she was still breaking apart any barrier he had hoped to keep up. Still held an unspeakable power, all cast by wide clear eyes pinning his heart in place.

Yet this change did not come all at once, his defences did not crumble overnight. It happened gradually, her systematically breaking through cold stone walls, all forged for his own protection, yet she did not leave him bare. Upon the fragile base that represented him, she constructed new layers of protection, feelings of a different magnitude surfacing.

It was time to return the favour, prove he was there for her as much as she had, that he was also strong and would not falter before the danger circling them like a vicious hungry wolf. He would shower her with the same loyalty she had during Valentine's day when he head bowed, resting on his arm.

This was a promise to himself.

He did not step back despite the increasing pressure building up in his chest when she related new found information of her parents. She was doing what he would have done as well, trying to protect herself, her secrets, despite agreeing to tell him all.

He knew she was trying to push him away, even if she agreed to return "I asked Severus last night and he confirmed it for me. My parents are indeed Death Eaters." However she was not surprised at all, expected it more than likely by the look in her eyes.

For a moment his trust crumbled, cracking under the weight of those words. Everything inside him screamed to just turn away and run, flee and not look back. Yet ration had no place when it came to matters of the heart, despite how dangerous that was.

He went back to memories he latched on to, knew she bared no marks on her arms. Her entire personality did not fit the description of such dark souls. There was no way she had such cruel intentions, served the dark side of the wizarding world.

And such he concluded, she was only protecting herself in her feeble attempt to make him change his mind, nothing more. It was what she had done all her life.

He allowed himself a few moments to drift away once insider her room, going back to old questions and scenarios, the idea on which he landed on surprising even him. He did not know how his parents got together and at that moment he wished he had held such information. It would have helped him understand things he had only read about, dealt with everything differently. Were they friends before? Were they rivals turned to lovers? Were they infatuated with one another from the very beginning?

During his school years he had witnessed the few friends he allowed near, form relationships of their own. Yet while they were busy hiding behind corners, stealing kisses, holding hands and dating, he was studying, training, preparing for his future.

Ever since the Auror camp however all that felt in vain.

Maybe it would not have been so bad to indulge in something more than a friendship. That way he might have been more experienced, resisted her temptations far more than he already had, wouldn't feel flushed when she was near him.

Shaking the thoughts from him head, his focus shifted back to Talia's busy form, casting protective spells, ensuring no one would or could interrupt them.

Once she completed her small ritual, her eyes appeared lifeless as she turned to him, as if she had given up a part of herself once she decided to actually go through with it. She chose words carefully, churning everything countless times before actually uttering anything. Took time to consider how those words would and could be used against her, that behaviour he did recognise, he had done it countless time as well.

He felt like pacing as she took her sweet time, fingers removing the Phoenix pin securing her shawl, anticipation ever growing in the pit of his stomach. Taking off her first layer of protection, left her in a button up shirt, stopping to look at him one last time, ensuring he truly wanted to know. As pale fingers worked on removing clothing, he shinned away from her, keeping his gaze trained on the floor, muscles tensing as words spilled from her lips.

Breathing came second as he turned her story to vivid pictures inside his brain, eyes shutting tight as if it was all hurting him.

But it was, words crashing inside his chest, breaking apart bits and pieces living and breathing through him.

An old legacy left behind, now all sitting on her shoulders, crushing, turning words to ash on her tongue.

Wizards and witches of the foulest kind, sacrificing everything to achieve greatness and above all else, live. Live long and prosper, no matter the means taken to obtain such a goal. The name resonated heavy in the room, echoing off the walls, he had heard stories behind their family. Witches and Wizards hunting for the ultimate dark artefacts, killing creatures that should not be touched, all to prolong the years of their life. Born in the year of 1972 by parents Josephine and Constantine Crane, Talia came into the world to serve one purpose only.

Branded from the very beginning.

Five days to conceive her.

Five consecutive months of the mother drinking Phoenix blood.

Five years for the girl to grow.

"It poured down on the night of my fifth birthday as if nature itself was weeping." A cruel smile curved Talia's lips into something sinister "But why would mother nature cry for a lamb being offered for slaughter?"

He heard something light landing on the floor and he knew her shirt now rested near her feet. Her voice faltered as she shallowed the lump forming in her throat, tears biting at deep sea eyes.

"I begged until my throat bled, until my tongue went numb. Gritted my teeth until they crumbled in my mouth, but it didn't matter. Why would my cries reach the hallow space inside a monster's chest?"

Her father carved her, young skin splitting quickly and from her words that was the most bearable part of it all.

"He caved in my rib cage and children bones are far more fragile than that of an adult. So the task wasn't a hard one for him." She knew magic kept her alive, the entire ritual not allowing her to die, not until the right moment.

Close to the scene, her mother performed the same ritual, on a little Phoenix bird, the same age as her.

"He carved a piece out of my beating heart. Replaced it." Not a human, not a Phoenix, not normal as lightning struck her, bringing the night to a standstill, ensuring her heart would beat again "But my tears don't heal wounds. I still bleed like others and if anything, I healed slower yet didn't die, magic and potions as if rendered useless. And for what? To keep me for another five years to carve me out again? In an attempt of making an immortal heart?"

A plan forged in insanity, however if manageable, if successful it would have created a greater dark army. Such a cruel fate, to conceive a child not out of love, but out of selfishness. If there were any innocent beings in the worlds, those were children.

"Look at me Talbott." he kept silent, fists shaking as he swallowed hard despite his throat being dry. Pale fingers turned his face towards her, skin as if on fire against his "Look at the beast they created." His resolved shook, he could only fathom how her scar looked after all done to her, yet he wished to delay it. Pull himself together, not show anger or pain or fear.

"After spending half of my life wishing to not exist, I continued to break myself apart." Caressing his cheek she could read all the pain entrapped in his features "I used it all to my advantage, forged this body for something more as I ran."

"You are not a beast." His eyes snapped open, a firm grip on her arm telling her not to push, that he clearly did not wish to allow for the connotation to exist. He shifted his gaze, reading into deep eyes that were red at the rims as Talia tried to keep it all in.

"Then look at me." Shaky hands pushed back soft hair, hesitantly lowering his gaze. He did his utmost best to not display any emotions, yet he could feel his eyes sting as a gasp left his lips.

Jagged edges spoke to him of immeasurable pain, an obvious dent under the scars with how her bones healed slowly, muscles and new tissues barely containing what was done. Just how much magic did Snape attempt in order to even reach such a result? There was nothing careful about how her skin was split, the scar tissue in itself too wide, too viciously spread on her pale skin.

And then came her last attempt at saving herself from hurt.

"Due to the Phoenix core, birds are also attracted to me, you might have wondered why Fawks suddenly flew to me. With you being an eagle Animagus, it would explain a lot." She could see something snap inside him, as he tensed on the spot, anger tightening his muscles.

Letting go of her arm, his fingers traced the scar along her heart after making sure she allowed for the interaction to take place "Don't Talia." She expected hesitation, yet there was none "Do not try to justify my feelings for you with this." She shivered slightly as his hand lowered down to her stomach.

"Feelings?" her voice teased, finally finding its strength however she froze when he looked back in her eyes. Everything about him looked dangerous, smouldering gaze stealing a breath from her lungs. Talbott kept silent, stare intense as he removed his hand from her body, yet still kept the close proximity.

His chest expanded in slow breaths as his mind worked out through his most recent dilemma, her becoming increasingly worried. It was as if then she truly felt exposed, as if the fog lifted from her brain and realised she was standing naked from the waist up in front of her partner.

Breaking eye contact, her hands wrapped around herself as she walked away from him, hair falling over her shoulders, encompassing her form. He was painfully aware of the fact her body was exposed, however that was not a time for embarrassment on his behalf "Don't hide from me." His voice trembled as he took slow steps, closing the space between them "You don't ever have to with me."

Refusing to unravel her arms she spoke softly "You can't possibly want to look at me." Yet she still did not dare look his way. It was him who grazed her jaw line with steady fingers as she had done to him, lifted her chin, making her meet his eyes.

"How could I possibly look away from my partner?" her wide glossy gaze spoke to him what she was incapable to verbalise. She would not admit to being terrified at that very moment. She would not tell him how vulnerable she was feeling.

"You made me come back today, look back." He nodded slowly, urging her to continue, not really understanding where she was getting at "I never look back."

Caressing her cheek in an absentminded gesture he posed his enquiry "Is that bad?" her hesitation froze the motion in place, anxiety eroding away at him. If felt too long until she slowly placed her open palm over his beating heart.

"There is a reason I don't look back." Her eyes shinned differently, all the danger lurking inside her being drawn out "There is nothing there. You must understand Talbott, I am not a nice person, not fully, not with how I lived. But I am not looking to excuse myself." Her bounce back surprised him after all, she was half naked, in front of him, yet she had the upper hand.

"Then why did you look back? You were more than hesitant at the train station." A small smirk played on her lips.

"Observant. Should I be flattered?" his new found confidence faltered in the form of fast blinking, questions swimming in his head. Should she be? Why would Talia be flattered he took notice of her behaviour?

Shaking his head, her brows furrowed "No, but I want to live up to those expectations." That answer had Talia wrapping her arms around his neck, body pressed against him so tight as if she was afraid of losing him.

Talbott froze in place for a moment her voice reaching his ears in a small whisper "Come on, tell me this is inappropriate."

Gently running her hands across her body, he returned the hug "Today I don't possess the will to deny you." Feeling her hands roam through his hair, he shivered slightly, gripping her tighter.

"Careful what you say, I might ask too much of you then." His lips curved in a smile as he indulged in her perfume. She did not need to know that would actually not be a bad thing "But in all seriousness, no more games for now." Pulling back a fraction, she met soft eyes waiting for her to speak "Forgive me for my moment of weakness, but how could I not look back? How could I not hesitate when you were back at the castle? How could I go on when the simple idea of moving forward alone hurt so much?"

It felt as if his heart burst inside his chest at the sound of her words "Then forgive me as well for my weakness." Leaning in, his lips quickly found hers, the sensation sweet and shy, fleeting as first kisses usually tend to be.

It was not as stories went, he did not forget how to breathe, yet his heart did beat faster than it ever had. He did not feel his knees go weak, but his feelings cemented themselves, sealing everything with that kiss. It was not as if something struck him, however warmth burned inside his chest.

Perhaps all those fables were written by fools after all, as nothing felt more real than that very moment.