This chapter was betaed by the wonderful brissygirl to provide a smoother reading experience. All remaining mistakes are my own, especially since I forgot to send the character snippet. See first chapter for disclaimers/additional warnings/summaries.

This chapter is dedicated to all my readers who have a June birthday and have devised their own delightful headcanons for these characters! :P Happy birthday, you guys! I hope it's a fabulous one. Best wishes for the year ahead and thanks for your support!

RECAP: Harry acquires his first Pareya, a handsome Earth elemental named Ethan Hartwood, hailing from a scholarly clan. Hadrian arrives at the library to take him back to see the Royals, who have some disturbing news. Theo isn't prepared to meet Ethan and sparks fly. In the meantime, Jun, Briar and George have a few things to work out as well, including picking up a Gheyo Joker from the pits, where George runs into Wikhn. The stage is nearly set...

THE ROYAL QUARTERS : RASPEN, EBONY, DAWNE & ALCANDOR : THE HUNT : DAY 3

Raspen tugged at his collar, feeling the strange magic in his body, literally crawling beneath his skin. He'd been on edge since Riven had arrived and it had only grown worse when Harry and Ethan had joined them in the room.

It made him want to claw his arms off. He was barely restraining the impulse as it was. He was relieved when Dawne had suggested a twenty-minute break. One, because there were certainly more tactful ways to introduce a new Bonded and two, at this point any break was more than fine with him.

Riven's barely concealed look of concern, had Raspen slipping away as soon as he could manage it. For once, he was glad that Ebony and Dawne kept their guards so close on hand. It was easy for him to disappear to the privacy of a near-empty hallway so as long as they were occupied.

He didn't have to wait long.

Riven materialized almost seconds later. "I warned you," he scolded, lightly. "I'm surprised you aren't climbing the walls yet. You were too close to that Soulscream."

Raspen only glared at him. By the time he'd connected the dots, it was too late to do anything. "I didn't see your message until later—much later and then, I didn't have time to-"

"Doesn't have time, he says," Riven muttered, rolling his eyes skyward. "Yes, yes, I'm sure you were so busy, there was absolutely no chance of taking a moment to read a message from—"

Golden eyes fluxed to a deeper, darker brown. "I didn't have time. It came late."

"Next time I'll try to send it sooner," Riven snapped. The sarcasm fairly dripped from his words. "I'll make sure to key it directly to your personal aura, to activate within your immediate-"

"I didn't mean it that way."

"Mm. Read it next time. You know I'd have sent it sooner if I could have. I was a bit busy."

"You're always busy."

"And I still find the time for you." Riven said, tartly. "You'd best not be asking for what I think you're about to. Didn't you have shields in place?"

In spite of his princely manner, Raspen cringed. The shields were all he'd been able to manage. "They were late. We had them open for the morning blessing and it—well." He hesitated. "Another suppression would be too much, wouldn't it?"

Riven's glower softened. "If I didn't care a whit for your continued good health—yes." He scolded. "Honestly—what would your parents say if they knew what you-"

"They don't," Raspen said, wearily. "And I don't want them to, Oret."

There was a long pause, punctuated by an equally long sigh, before Riven eased down to join Raspen on the cool floor. He tapped the pointed tip of his staff, lightly on the ground.

"I still don't deserve that title," Riven said, quietly. "But thank you. Come. Sit. I've missed you."

"And I, you." Raspen said, simply. He moved to sit beside Riven, angling so that his head could rest on the taller dragel's shoulder. He barely twitched when Riven's arm curled around his shoulder, squeezing gently in comfort.

"You've been keeping things to yourself again, haven't you?"

"Prince is a lonely title. Especially when it becomes a kingship."

"Life is meant to be shared, not hoarded," Riven scolded. "Now," he paused, flicking his fingers at his staff to cast an unspoken spell.

A soft slurping sound seemed to echo, before the Riven's special-brand of privacy wards went up. As if on cue, Raspen finally relaxed. Of all the privacy shields and wards he'd known and cast, Riven's were still the ones he trusted the most.

"I did not jump through nineteen realms and twenty-nine star spaces, to cast another suppression seal to mute your reaction to a soul cry, because you don't want your parents to meddle in it. Talk to me. You have the same twenty minutes you gave them."

Raspen half-smiled, feeling his magic stretching out around them, aura strengthening from the sheer bliss of being comfortably contained, by the proximity of Riven's personal stasis field. He'd forgotten how stern the solemn spell crafter could be, but it felt oddly reassuring to return to that familiarity.

Riven was the unofficial mentor his parents had never approved—largely due to their elemental differences. They'd wanted him to have someone else and eventually, had given up on that, choosing to appoint a general court of older dragels as consultants.

But Riven had frequented the earth elemental courts for a few years here and there. During that short time, they'd met and clicked in a way that only a mentored-student pair could. In spite of his roaming ways, he'd managed to keep in touch, with little messages and the occasional inter-realm video conference.

"In twenty-minutes? Now?"

"Raspen."

"His name is Harry," Raspen began. "And there's something about him that I can't seem to leave alone."

"Oh?" Riven hummed.

Raspen ignored him. "It's on behalf of his Alpha, Theodore—the one sponsored by Lady Gorgens all those years ago? He found Harry on Earth and Harry's mentor never showed."

"Send a hunting party," Riven said, sensibly. "It's nothing to be too worked up over, sometimes there are difficult circumstances—if he's on Earth, there would have been long-distance, inter-realm portals to set in place. Permissions take time."

"…His missing mentor is Maurice Elswood." Raspen said, quietly.

"Ryker's Bane?" Riven stiffened. "Mad Maury?"

"He's been found on Earth." Raspen toyed with the frayed fabric on the sleeve of Riven's odd casting robe. "Lady Cunningham has gone to hunt him—with her entire Circle."

"Sharp woman," Riven allowed. Her reputation was dark and devastating in the best sort of way for dragel Military Circle. "Always catches her prey—but, that's not what you mean, is it? Did she find him?"

"She's found something-a massive magical beacon on Harry's Earth residence. Something of a magical lure, continuously summoning all manner of creatures and beings—which were subsequently destroyed, thanks to an equally powerful seal on said residence."

"Maury?"

"It's a death seal." Raspen said, "I want you to handle it." If there was even a sliver of a chance of saving Mad Maury, he wanted Riven to be the one to have it. Sometimes, there was a special kind of luck that followed the lone spellcaster and Raspen had long learned to make use of it.

"Of course," Riven said, immediately. He frowned. "That's not what's bothering you, is it?"

"Harry—this Harry—before he even met Theo, he had several seals placed on him."

"Multiple seals?" Riven shifted. "How many?"

"…a dozen, I think?"

Riven stiffened.

There was nothing good about that, not amongst their kind. Two or three was typical, a death seal, if someone was anxious or stupid enough to wind up in fights, or a power seal until the physical body could handle the strain of immense power—and, occasionally, a heritage seal, that was meant to be more of a formality and that would unravel when a dragel reached their maturity.

Raspen gave a low growl, but settled when Riven locked an arm around his neck and drew him closer for a nuzzle. "According to the Kalzik's and several other interesting encounters with Harry and his—things from a Blood Seal, to a Suppression Seal and-"

"And a Death Seal." Riven finished, finally fitting the mental puzzle pieces together. "Ras-"

Raspen curled towards him, miserably. "I know. I know, Oret. I just—he's so young. Hasn't even finished building his Circle—and you saw his first Pareya, right there. A Hartwood. They're soulbonded and he's been through more than anyone should have to. You can see it in his eyes and now we've found his mentor and I have to tell him that I don't think—I don't think that-"

"Don't think the worst."

"It's Lady Mariana,"Raspen said, softly. "If by some miracle, he isn't dead, she'll kill him herself."

"…And they've disappeared again," Dawne murmured, with a fond shake of her head. She'd honestly expected it, given how Raspen had awakened from his troubled nap. "Convenient."

"Leave them be," Ebony said, leaning against the wall. She didn't see the point in relocating any further than the hallway for a mere twenty minutes. Her mind was full enough with all the things she was struggling to keep straight. It would be best not to add mores stress by attempting cram more things into her already busy thought stream.

"And you're not the least bit curious?" Dawne teased. "I know you, Eby. You're dying to know what's been bothering him since he'd followed us back here with that faraway look in his eyes as if he was here in everything but-"

"True, but I also know well enough to leave them alone. Ras looked positively ill." Ebony shifted, uncomfortably.

"He's looked like that since this morning," Dawne said, thoughtfully. "Riven didn't look much better though, when you think of it. Weren't they rather close years back?"

"I don't remember," Ebony mused. "We didn't frequent the Earth courts much. Mother was not very fond of their penchant for formalities and proper turnouts."

Dawne smiled. "Mine wasn't either, but we sort of had the habit started at an early age. Helps a bit now. I don't mind all the fuss and flare the way I once would have." She paused. "Good for Harry though—nice to see some development there. He's a cute little thing. His first Pareya and a Hartwood at that."

"Definitely good for him," Ebony agreed. "I wouldn't mind one of those for my own."

"You've met the Hartwoods," Dawne said, twitching her fingers to craft something soft to float on. "Charming people, but I can't stand to listen to all of that history and archaic knowledge of things I don't yet need to know."

Ebony laughed. "They're interesting. They read. A lot. It makes good conversation, as long as they don't have a book in their hands when you're having said conversation."

Dawne found herself laughing along. "True," she admitted. "Very true. How much longer?"

"Not too long," Ebony stifled a yawn. "Three guesses that Raspen will try to keep us out of the mess that he's engineering himself?"

Dawne rolled her eyes. She loved him like a brother—and Ebony, as a sister—but sometimes, she wanted to smack some sense into both of them. Each stubborn in their own way, but still, somehow—hers. "We'll help him anyway."

"Mmhm," Ebony hummed. "But it wouldn't hurt for him to trust us, every once in awhile."

"He rarely ever does." Dawne said, softly. "But I think it's because he's always had to hide so much of himself, he doesn't know how to share it yet."

"He'll have to learn then," Ebony mused. "He'll have to learn."

"Strength in numbers," Dawn agreed.

"Stop breathing," Riven muttered, irritated. His magic twisted and fizzled out in his hands, the spell incomplete. "I can't cast if you keep-"

Raspen stifled a laugh and straightened. He didn't dare apologise, though he was reasonably sure Riven hadn't even realised what he'd said.

A beat later, Riven scowled. "You know what I mean," he corrected. "You keep moving. I can't touch the seal unless you're completely frozen."

"Immobilization spell?" Raspen prompted.

"Can't. Your father has a trip on that."

"Puppeteer?"

"Your mother has a trip on that."

Raspen rolled his eyes. He loved his parents, dearly, but sometimes, he felt that they would keep him under lock and key, simply so he would be safe. "You'd think they don't trust me."

"I don't trust you and I know you," Riven said. He rapped him smartly on the head. "Stop trying to see what I'm doing. You're moving too much and you know how precise this needs to be-!"

"Of course, Oret. Anything you say, Oret."

Riven tapped him on the head again, annoyed. "On count of two—breathe out—one and two!" Magic flared briefly, a warm golden glow, immediately followed by a burst of vivid violet.

Raspen trembled, eyes squeezed shut as he felt the seal squeeze and shrivel into him, properly renewed. He coughed, feeling Riven's magic retreating. The weary feeling returned and the clamouring instincts in his mind, faded away to dull background noise. He breathed easier, relieved. "Thank you."

"Who exactly are you running from?"

"…That obvious?"

"You've never called me back for a favour like this," Riven said. "Not that I mind, but you know you'll have to break that sooner or later."

"Later. Much later."

Riven snorted. "It won't be that bad you know," he reached for his staff, stepping back to check the protections he'd inscribed on them a few minutes before he'd begun the spellwork. "It might be more beneficial than you're thinking."

"It's a Circle," Raspen said, lightly. "And it's too good of a thing to be muddled by the mess that I've been saddled with right now."

"You were born into it. Responsibility. Duty. Power. It's not your fault, Raspen."

"I've had time to understand that. I know what it is expected of me. Others don't. It isn't fair to them."

"Protecting them at the expense of yourself, when you don't even know each other—is hardly useful or helpful to either of you."

"I don't need a lecture, Oret."

"A Circle is reciprocal. They share the burden." Riven held his gaze, meaningfully. "Running from things rarely ever turn out well."

Raspen squared his shoulders, his head bowed. "I know that just as well as you do," he said, softly. "But I couldn't ask anyone to shoulder this sort of thing. The Night of a Thousand Prophecies?"

"That is not a burden for you to bear alone." Riven said, sternly. "Speaking of which—and we will speak of it later—I completed my objective. As you well know."

"Hard to miss, seeing as it was the first thing you said." Raspen teased. He didn't dodge the incoming flick to his shoulder. "That's one down then, nineteen left."

"I don't think it's all nineteen," Riven said, carefully. "I think some of them are already up—I think someone else has been poking about in places where they ought not to be." He did not add that the Immortals were their own beings and not puppets to be controlled—they both knew that already.

Raspen's lips pressed into a thin line. "Lady Kalzik said something like that," he said, slowly. "Said that her son—the mute one, Quinten? That there'd been an incident in the city and something possessed a little girl. One of the Kadel children, incidentally. The message he sent with her was—that the Immortals were waking."

"They're already up," Riven said, stilled irritated. He thumped his staff on the floor, his scowl deepening as the bulbous eye atop the staff, remained stubbornly shut. He needed to gather more energy from Nevarah, while he was still on its native soil. The magic stored in his staff was collected from the various places he'd been traveling through and it made the staff less responsive on home soil. "You should check with the others and say something."

Raspen didn't answer.

"…You have heard from the others?"

No answer.

"Raspen!"

"What do you want me to tell you? Even my parents have nothing to share. It was before their time and all that's left is the notices of deployment—yours excluded, of course, but with a mark that it was taken care of."

"A mark?"

"Whoever was in charge, insisted on absolute secrecy and the sorts of spells that aren't safe to experiment with." Raspen rubbed his face. "It's—it's a mess."

"A mess that we'll deal with, one issue at a time," Riven said. "It's about twenty minutes now, isn't it?" He gave a grunt of satisfaction when the great yellow eye blinked open. "I'll leave as soon as I've the next destination—but first, let's square up what you've found."

"Nice of you to show up," Ebony teased, watching the duo walk down the hall. She knew enough of Riven to show the dragel the respect he deserved. The Cairothe name came with certain talents and secrets.

The ugly yellow eye on his staff was still as unnerving as the first dozen times she'd seen it, but Raspen didn't seem the least bit bothered by it, as he walked on the other side of the staff talking about something muffled by a flexible privacy spell.

"Something new?" Dawne wanted to know. "Ras?

"Later," he promised. "I'm sure you've already made the same connections that I have, but-"

"You didn't have to run off for that," Ebony said, stretching her arms out and wishing for a more comfortable outfit than her formalwear.

"Apologies," Raspen said, easily. "Have you found anything?"

"The kinds of things I don't want to find," Ebony grumbled. "I don't suppose either of you received notice of the Vampires attending the Hunt? Officially, I mean, seeing as their Lord still sleeps and the Elder Council hasn't mobilized in decades."

Dawne snorted and then blushed. "Never mind that, tell me later. Twenty minutes ran out two minutes ago."

The three Royals and Riven, returned to the room, to find an amusing, if somewhat private moment taking place. Harry, safely cuddled on Theo's lap was giving some sort of direction to Ethan—safely cuddled on Charlie's lap.

Predictably, Harry blushed upon seeing them and made to sit on his own, only for Theo shake his head and whisper something in his ear.

Face flaming, Harry stayed put.

Ethan stifled a laugh and settled comfortably enough in Charlie's arms. If Theo was still that on edge, he wouldn't aggravate him, by moving around. Even though the bonds were taking, the need to draw closer would take considerable time to fade.

"The news we have to share, is disturbing," Raspen said, without preamble. "Please understand that I have asked you here to inform you of what is happening, but that it is all being taken care of."

Theo's golden gaze flickered, but remained bright. Harry blush faded as his mouth set into a grim line. Charlie shifted from his seat on the floor and Ethan turned just enough to nuzzle him, instinctively, in reassurance.

"Lady Cunningham has discovered an interesting situation at your Earth residence," Raspen began. "Specifically, Harry's home."

"She's found Maurice?" Theo asked, eyes narrowed. The vagueness of the statement did not sit well with him and he knew Harry wouldn't care for it either.

"She's found a Death Seal," Raspen said. "Whether Maurice is contained within it, I do not know and she did not say."

"You're saying he's—dead?" Harry stared. The hairs on his arms stood up. Scales rippled along his face, accenting his claws. His initial emotionally-fuelled outburst in relation to a crazed mentor he'd never known had gradually settled into a mixture of emotion that he had yet to unpack. Sympathy, worry, concern and heartache seemed to stand out the most and at Raspen's word, a deep ache settled in his chest.

"We don't know," Dawne said, gently. "And we can't say, because we don't know for sure. It's best not to guess about this sort of thing, but at the same time, it's hard to send messages from disjointed timelines. Perhaps Lady Cunningham meant to send-"

"We don't know what she meant to send or not," Ebony cut in. "And it's pointless to guess. For now, leave it at that. As you were saying, Raspen—?"

"The situation involves the occupants of the house," Raspen said, awkwardly. "Specifically, your family?"

Harry froze. He barely felt Theo's hands rubbing soothingly along his arms. "W-what about them?" He asked, hating the way his voice sounded so small.

The sharpened gaze of the tall dragel beside Raspen, flickered up, focusing on Harry.

For a moment, they stared in silence. Harry's green eyes locked on the dragel's powerful violet ones. The connection was broken as the dragel looked away.

The sense of emptiness grew deeper, twisting as it anchored itself inside of Harry. His hands clenched in the give of Theo's robe, the room seeming to fade away into a dull, grey.

He could hear that Raspen was still talking, but all that replayed in his mind, were things that he didn't want to remember.

"…I love you," Theo whispered in one ear. He kissed Harry's cheek, worry seeping through their shared bond. He'd felt a sudden, fierce jolt of coldness between them and leaned forward in time to see that awful, faraway look taking root in Harry's eyes.

Harry startled, feeling warmth creeping up his neck and face once more. He pressed back into Theo's arms, silently forcing himself to focus on what was being said. From the sudden silence, he knew Raspen had paused and he struggled to backtrack.

"I'm sorry—I didn't catch that—?"

"There were three occupants in the house. One is dead. One is severely injured. The other is feral." Raspen said, briskly. "I don't know which is which and the one that is—dead. Will require identification, as what remains will likely be severely damaged in the removal of the Death Seal on the house. It is, specifically, on the house—not an individual. I cannot say what the effects will be or how it will affect that particular place. It is also why I have requested Riven Cairothe to join us." Raspen paused. "He is partially answering my summons and that of the Kalziks, due to your seals, Harry. He will assist with the Death Seal and also with your seal removals, so as long as you are willing." He gestured to Riven, who dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Ethan's brow knitted into a neat furrow. He made a soft sound of distress and Charlie released him at once. He carefully moved to stand and paused long enough to pull Charlie up with him, before moving to sit with Harry and Theo.

"Are you asking for his permission or am I missing something?"

"Permission," Raspen said, readily. "Death Seals are serious, depending on context, depth and strength."

"He means that having one on Earth is different than having one here," Hadrian offered. He'd kept his silence and his distance, since entering the room. But at the look of bewilderment on Harry's face, he'd felt compelled to speak. "It's different because here, Nevarah, its practically made of magic. It's everywhere. Earth is a bit—different."

"It's your family," Ethan clarified. "Prince Raspen is saying that he cannot guarantee that in trying to undo it, that it will not cause unnecessary harm or damage to the survivors in the house, given that one is already—deceased." He frowned. "The tapestry—that's what was wrong with it."

"Tapestry?" Theo looked from Ethan to Harry. "I feel as if I'm missing something here."

"We were in the library," Ethan said, reaching out for one of Harry's hands, the one closest to him. He gently uncurled each claw from Theo's robe and threaded his own fingers through it, squeezing gently. "To try and trace back his mother's side of things, the Evanson's."

Raspen twitched. His golden eyes narrowed faintly, but he didn't interrupt.

"We bought a copy," Ethan explained. "Charlie?" he nodded towards the canister that had fallen to the floor in the midst of the earlier confusion.

Charlie retrieved it, handing it over.

"We can look at it later," Harry said, quickly. He pulled his hand free from Ethan's to grab the canister before it could be passed over. "And it's—fine. Do whatever you need to. I-I just—leaving it on there, isn't good, right? I mean, it's not like you could leave it there and-"

"We could contain it," Hadrian explained. "But that's basically the same as activating it, because of where it is. I haven't seen it, so I can't say for sure, but it would likely mean a sudden and unpleasant death for all involved."

Harry grimaced.

"A Death Seal is not meant to be nice," Hadrian said. "It is meant to be destructive and combative, depending on the caster and the type."

"All magic works with intent," Riven said, his voice low and deep. "And it's pure speculation to say what it will or won't do, without seeing it in person. I'll leave to take a look as soon as possible to-"

"When?" Harry twisted, carefully pulling away from Theo, ignoring the questioning rumble. "I'm not staying behind," he turned to Theo. "I won't."

Charlie looked from Theo to Harry. "You want to-?" He stopped. He wasn't sure what to fill in there. Not when stories from the twins were swirling around in his head—stories of the twins rescuing him from a house where there were bars on the window. Something must have shown on his face, because Ethan's gold eyes fluxed to pitch black. Charlie winced. That couldn't be good.

"Traveling inter-realm takes time," Ethan said, calmly. "Harry—it is probably a-"

"I want to go." Harry said, steadily. "I don't want to stay here."

Theo drew a slow breath. "What is the purpose of going?" He asked, carefully. "You know I'd rather not rush back to Earth right now."

"It's—" Harry paused. Complicated. "—Important."

Theo didn't answer. He simply studied him, silently, taking note of how every single line in Harry's body, seemed to be screaming the opposite. Still, it was Harry and Harry was asking.

"You should have warned them, Ras." Ebony grumbled. "Don't spring that sort of news on people without some kind of warning." She crossed the room, her hazy aura of warmth following along.

It spilled over into the awkward staring match between Harry and Theo, dispersing some of the tension. She nudged Charlie and stood beside him. "Whoever decides on going wherever, can do so tomorrow. It's a time-jump anyway, so there's no real rush. I suggest taking some time to yourselves—tonight, at the very least—before venturing off-realm. We are on a realm-wide shutdown and I'd personally prefer not to sign off on something like this, knowing the stability of your Circle." She paused. "No offense, Scholar Hartwood, but your addition brings-"

She nudged Charlie and stood beside him. "Whoever decides on going wherever, can do so tomorrow. It's a time-jump anyway, so there's no real rush. I suggest taking some time to yourselves—tonight, at the very least—before venturing off-realm. We are on a realm-wide shutdown and I'd personally prefer not to sign off on something like this, knowing the stability of your Circle." She paused. "No offense, Scholar Hartwood, but your addition brings-"

"None taken, Princess." Ethan said, smoothly. "I am well-aware. My instincts, as they are now—would require some time to settle and at present, they are—shall we say, not exactly geared for the current circumstance?"

"That's a polite way to put it," Ebony agreed. "Raspen, tell them it can wait." Her eyes glowed a rich, warm orange. "I say this, not only as a Royal, but as a mentor out of concern for my mentee."

Charlie twitched, a flicker of relief dancing across his face. His grateful smile said what he didn't dare voice aloud just yet.

"That will be fine," Theo said, breaking the staring game.

"Of course," Raspen agreed. "That would be best." He paused, turning to Hadrian. "Please take word to your lady to expect visitors."

Hadrian looked away. "I have not been-"

"She asked you to stay or ordered you?" Raspen said, briskly. "It doesn't matter which, as I am ordering you in my official capacity to deliver this message. She can complain to me, if she likes."

"But-!"

Raspen's gaze darkened. "Riven could cast the necessary spellwork to take the message himself, but if others intend to accompany him—then we will need him here and not there. Go. Now."

Hadrian bowed his head.

Seconds later, he faded into nothing, his shadow—the last part of him to vanish.

Annoyed, but obedient—Hadrian hovered above the Shadow's edge, watching where his element blended into nothingness.

Sure, there were a million different ways for a Shadow user to meld into time or a specific place, without the use of directed magic or portals, but that didn't mean he had to like doing it.

The Shadows answered to their own and the authorities they had defined there of their own choosing. Lord Aiden of the Hellhound's Courts, for one and the Cunninghams where the Hellhounds did not walk. It had been something of a relief and a curse, when the Cunninghams had picked him up.

Specifically, to catch Lady Mariana's eye was no small feat and her firm handling of her Circle and those included, hired or otherwise, had been a bit of a welcome shock.

Not that he agreed with all of it, but it was nice to be appreciated and looked after in a traditional sense that did not affect a Gheyo's pride.

Hadrian stretched, gathering his shadows around him. No matter what Prince Raspen had said, he knew better than to simply throw himself through time and space to reach the Cunninghams.

Not that they would turn him away, for he would be able to relay the message, but it was sure to earn him another scolding and quite possibly the refusal to allow participation in upcoming public duels.

It hadn't helped that Ethan had been encouraging Harry. A detail that hadn't mattered until a certain green-eyed brunet had been bold enough to ask for specifics and things that Hadrian hadn't thought about for a long while.

No one cared how he fought—the Cunninghams' aside—or what techniques were used. He'd simply refined his natural style in the past few years and dropped other, flashier techniques in favour of subtly and elemental specialty.

Hadrian scowled, rubbing the back of his head. If any dragel had dared to suggest that one day, he would be deciding between a lady's temper and a Royal's order, he would have laughed, before he stabbed them.

Now, he wondered if stabbing something would help.

An irritated growl left his lips and he floated upwards instead. Ethan had been about to point out something on the Evanson tapestry, before Harry had conveniently changed the subject.

Too conveniently.

Hadrian stretched, allowing the shadows to reach out and melt into him. The renewed sense of power filled him to the very core, radiating out with a steady, humming energy.

Perhaps he ought to check on the tapestry himself.

Before joining the Cunninghams.

It wasn't like it could hurt.

And it certainly wasn't like anyone was there to stop him. Hadrian began to weave a silent, shadowed portal for the last 'ported position of Harry.

Having brought him to the Royal's quarters, he could make use of the past portal's exact location. And perhaps he'd find out what set Harry on edge.

Even if everyone else was tiptoeing around it, Hadrian couldn't help but notice that Harry had given the exact opposite reaction than what he'd originally expected.

Curious.

The portal set him down atop the middle row of bookshelves that bracketed the Map table where Ethan had requested a copy.

Hadrian slipped down from the shelves, shadow-quiet and barely visible. He moved along the edges of the bookshelves, angling towards the muted light that made it easier to view the archived materials.

Whispery strands of magic, flickered in the air and alerted him to a new presence. Hadrian shifted back into the shadows, allowing his corporeal body to half-fade. He completed the shift, when the magic lightened—whoever it was, knew shadow magic.

The figure came into view, only seconds later. Tall, thin and rather composed looking. The typical pale-skin and not-quite-red eyes of a vampire were the first details to register.

Hadrian frowned, but did not move. Those were typical traits, but not necessarily accurate. He could not sense a definite shadow element from the individual—nor the expected bloodlust, from a real vampire.

Nameless, he thought, irritated. Probably a true shadow in his Bearer or Sire.

The man moved quickly to the table, checking the tags of the rolled materials resting on the side cart, waiting to be magically returned. He drew something out from the pile and set it on the table, snapping his fingers to have it unrolled.

He checked something on the lower half, his shoulders growing tense. After a moment, he requested a viewing history of the tapestry and frowned.

"…A Hartwood? Since when were we on their radar? Jun is going to love this." Muttering to himself, the man rolled the tapestry up and cast a tracking spell atop it, requesting all future activity to be forwarded to him.

Once satisfied, he spun a small portal on one hand and faded out, pausing to look over his shoulder—the space where Hadrian had lingered only seconds before.

Hadrian perked a brow, silently impressed and amused in equal measure. He hadn't been trying to hide in earnest, he'd simply preferred not to be noticed by anyone who was likely to mention his whereabouts.

Stepping out into his solidified form, Hadrian glided over to the table, verifying that yes, it was the Evanson tapestry and the that the visitor had to be someone from the Evanson bloodline, as only those could actively cast spells on the tapestries.

"He didn't return it to the shelves," Hadrian muttered. That was an interesting detail he'd think about—later. Now, he focused on using his shadows to unroll the tapestry. He'd seen the protective spells cast over it and simply overrode them with his own magic.

The shadows would forever answer him, after all and they did as he bid them, sliding out the tapestry from the cart and floating over to the examination table. He took care not to touch it in any way, knowing that his magic wouldn't be traceable, if there truly was someone capable of recognising his actual magical signature.

One unrolled, he stared down at the large spread of moving portraits of dragels he knew nothing about. His attention was drawn to the lower half and then to the bottom section, which had undoubtedly caught the man's attention—and likely Harry's as well.

It was the faded, smudged section depicting one Harry James Potter as the only living child for the deceased Lily Evanson.

Hadrian drew a sharp breath. The Evansons were well-known enough to the point that he was reasonably sure he'd have known if there'd been a death in their family line.

Maybe.

He had been off-realm for a significant amount of time, but still. Names and news travelled far. He hadn't been that far and something of that sort of significance surely would have caught Mariana's eye.

His brow furrowed as he continued to inspect the traceable lines and found himself staring at the names of a Petunia and Vernon Dursley. Something about seeing their pinched, perfect faces, made his skin crawl. He bristled, but continued to study them, taking note of the skull and crossbones symbol near Vernon—ah. That was telling.

Vernon was definitely dead and it didn't matter how powerful Riven Cairothe was, he wouldn't be able to unravel that. Petunia, probably, Hadrian mused and maybe Dudley. There were no symbols beside their images and that meant there was a small possibility for survival.

Except that Harry's reaction to them—and Prince Raspen's news—hadn't been very promising at all. Hadrian floated up and away, taking care, as an afterthought, to erase his magical signature after all.

It wouldn't do for the mystery man to return and find that someone else had indeed been looking at the tapestry. He began to shadow walk out of the library, his mind filled with new, confusing thoughts. Phasing through the roof and gliding on up into the evening sky, Hadrian silently willed himself to move towards the Shadow's Edge.

He could make his way towards the Cunninghams' now. His mind had plenty of things to work through—starting with Harry, ending with the tapestry.

Shaking his head, Hadrian approached the final melding of the shadows at the edge of the realm. He rolled his head to the side and walked straight through the flickering, purple-blackness without flinching.

The pain hadn't bothered him for years.

HARRY AND CO : PEVERELLE GUEST HOME

The portal deposited them in the main receiving room of the Peverell's traveling house, in time for dinner. They were sorting themselves out, when Vincent arrived to verify their identities and invite them in.

"New Pareya," Theo said, quickly—correctly spotting the narrowed eyes and barely restrained defensiveness hidden behind a thin veneer of politeness.

"Ethan Hartwood," Ethan said, calmly. He sketched a formal bow, golden eyes remaining locked on Vincent's silvery ones the entire time.

"Pleasure," Vincent said, crisply. "I hadn't seen any notice of an-"

"I'm sure Theo will register it, officially, when he has the time to spare," Ethan said. "Silver eyes, blue markings and no visible runes around the ears or neck—you must be a Kilbourne."

Vincent's gaze hardened.

Silence reigned.

A tiny twitch at the corner of his mouth, gave away the stern expression. Vincent inclined his head. He could read the crest on Ethan's buttons, from the neatly pressed formal robe. "Correctly read, Hartwood."

"But of course. Safety is our primary concern and knowledge is our weapon," Ethan said, cheerfully. They clasped arms then, glowing runes lighting up upon contact.

Blue along Vincent's arms and gold on Ethan's. The magic flared brightly, illuminating colourfully on the plain, white walls of the receiving room. They faded back to nothing as the greeting was broken.

"As I am sure you are aware, this is a travel home and we prefer to keep it at a certain altitude." Vincent said. "Do you require additional comforts?"

"There's only a handful of grounding runes," Ethan said, looking to Harry. "If I could be permitted to add a few more, but in our space? I would not dream of disturbing the elemental balance you have in place; I simply wish to make it more comfortable."

Theo pretended not to hear the little power play taking place. Instead, he stepped off of the glowing white circle and started toward the door. Charlie automatically fell into step behind him.

"Theo?"

"I need to speak to Henry," Theo said, quietly.

"Henry—or Ilsa?" Charlie said, knowingly. "If you need to contact her-"

"I can't." Theo glanced over one shoulder. Ethan and Harry were still with Vincent and he didn't want to leave them there.

"She'll make time for you."

"She's answering at the courts." Theo murmured, a privacy spell already spiralling from his fingertips. He was fairly certain that Ethan was making a big deal about the grounding runes—because he'd also sensed the massive disconnect for his own earth element upon arriving in the Peverell's floating travel home.

"The courts?" Charlie echoed. "I thought-" he faltered. He had no idea what was really involved with a Clan War, but he'd expected something more serious than Ilsa flitting through the social circles at the fancy courts of the Hunt.

"Not those courts," Theo said, catching himself. "A council. A legal court of law. It's different here in Nevarah. They have to file a grievance and declare that there is bad blood between them—so no charges will be pressed for what Ilsa did. Since she was the one to do—it. She is the one who must file it." Theo hesitated. "She's also the ACE and will likely request a blood price. Basically, that she can exact whatever will ease the suffering of her Submissive."

Charlie felt his stomach clench. That wasn't exactly knowledge he was sure he wanted to know—yet. But it made sense now, that Theo would not want to disturb her. "Is there—do you know anyone else?"

"Besides Severus?" Theo gave a wry smile. "I've hardly made the kinds of connections that we can impose upon, considering our current standing, but—maybe soon."

The two Pareya seemed to have reached an agreement, for Vincent soon appeared, with Ethan trailing behind, Harry's hand tucked in the crook of his elbow.

It was a testament to Harry being 'off' by the fact that he allowed it. Theo frowned. There was so much to keep up with and he knew it would only become more complicated in the coming hours.

"Hey—hey," Charlie interrupted with a warm arm that settled cautiously across Theo's stiff shoulders. "I'm here, Theo. Don't forget I'm here."

Theo gave a self-deprecating chuckle. He turned enough to bump his head against Charlie's chin. "Hard to forget, dragonheart."

Charlie found himself smiling at that. He relaxed, waiting as the others caught up and began to lead them through the maze of halls and back to the familiar rooms.

Vincent led them to the sitting room where his Circle had gathered. Cora and Henry sat together, their heads close enough to touch, marking and sketching something on a shared digital tablet between them. The other Bonded, lounged about the room, paired up, but alert.

All eyes turned to them.

"Ethan Hartwood—Harry's new Pareya," Vincent said, calmly.

No one moved.

Cora stared, mouth open before her face brightened. There was genuine warmth and absolute delight radiating from her features. "Hartwood? Oh, Harry that's lovely! Henry—look—aren't they adorable?"

The room seemed to relax as Cora's bubbly personality spilled over, coupled with her excited movements. She all but bounced over to Harry, pulling him into a happy hug.

"Congratulations! That's so—sweet!" She bounced on her toes, turning to Ethan. "Hello—Cora Peverell."

"Give them a bit of space, love," Vincent said, fondly. He drew her back with a gentle tug.

"A definite pleasure," Ethan said. His smile touched his eyes, as he bowed formally in deference to their first official meeting.

Cora beamed. "I'm so glad you have a Pareya now," she turned to Harry. "Do come in and sit down—was everything alright? Theo and Charlie left in such a hurry and-"

"Everything is fine." Theo said, carefully. "For us." He didn't miss the way the room had reacted to their arrival, nor how Vincent had still pulled Cora away from them. They were on edge, whether they meant to acknowledge it or not.

Cora faltered. The cheeriness dimmed a bit and then she half-smiled, as if resigned. "Of course. Do come in—this will likely, affect you as well."

"What happened?" Harry heard himself speak.

"You know that we craft things, yes?" Cora moved back towards Henry, holding out a hand. "Maia Kadel—the head of the Kadel Clan, she made an interesting suggestion today. Henry and I have been trying to see how to make it come to fruition."

"You don't have to worry so. It is only Maia, she cannot insist that we bend to her latest vision because of-" Lewis began.

"Maia is a friend," Henry said, firmly. "Regardless of whether we see eye to fang is not necessary."

Lewis rolled his eyes, but joined them on the opposite lounge. His sharp eyes tracked Ethan's movements—in relation to Harry—but he said nothing. Vincent had introduced him, after all.

"What does that mean for you?" Theo asked, plainly. He chose the lounge that afforded them the shortest path to the door—a habit he'd never been able to break. He was surprised to find that Ethan simply flopped onto the floor, patting the area beside it.

Harry settled next to him without complaint and a beat later, Cora sat on the floor, across from them.

"We're trying to boost production of the Bloodstones to accommodate a high volume of vampires. According to Maia, it'll be triple the highest count we've ever seen in Nevarah." She shivered. "Whether I believe that isn't exactly the question. Worst-case-scenario is that we don't have enough to satisfy them or we have to turn some away. Refusing entry is not necessarily a problem, but it becomes tricky, politically and otherwise, when you can't admit a Sire without a Childe and a family leader, without the family. It's best to simply make enough Bloodstones for everyone."

"Bloodstones—?" Harry twisted to look at Charlie. He distinctly remembered the time he'd spent in Charlie's bedroom, surrounded by wooden crates and the various artefacts contained inside of them. "Didn't you have one?"

"You do?" Cora perked up. "Oh that's good. Keep it on your person at all times. Do you only have that one or more than one?"

"Just one." Charlie said. Mentally, he tried to backtrack and think of whether it had come to Nevarah with him. Maybe. Maybe not.

"That's fine. They were in low demand for so long, we haven't bothered to keep up with production—so acquiring the material is taking more time than we'd like and then of course, there's all the logistics and such that come with these sorts of things." Her lip curled into a pout and she leaned back to catch her Alpha in her line of sight. "Hen-ry, I told you we should have bought that factory in quad fourteen."

"Indeed you did and I should have listened," Henry said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"You should always listen to me."

"As I am still learning," came the teasing comeback. "But if we can't have that, then you'll have to adjust production of the other factories for-"

"What do you normally make?" Harry wanted to know.

"Gems," Cora said, proudly. "All sorts of fabricated gemstones—different types, styles and strengths, of course. But that's what Henry's family is known for. Mine's for the tech." She took the tablet that was finally handed over. "We feed the Nyturas of this realm, we trade and of course, we supply gemstone mages across several realms."

Harry stared. He was seeing the massive Nyturas holding up the library roof and he'd wondered how they could stay there. He also had a sudden thought. "Shadow!"

"In your room," Lewis said, without looking up. He'd enjoyed the little Nytura's company—it had helped him to sleep in relative peace for the nights that he'd had it. He'd taken it to the guest room earlier—when Shadow had decided that on its own. He wasn't about to mention such things though, not at Theo's predictable scowl and Vincent's unhappy look.

"You feed them—?" Harry faltered. He wasn't sure he wanted to wrap his head around that.

Ethan stifled a laugh. "Don't think so hard on it," he said, pulling him close for a kiss to the cheek. "They have to eat and they love gems. "

"We'll probably be scarce in the Hunt from now," Henry said, apologetically. "I'd be happy to make a few more connections for you, if you like, but a full turnout like today is not likely to happen again."

"That's fine," Theo said. "Thank you for all that you've done. We do appreciate it."

Henry smiled, but the gesture was overshadowed by the obvious shadow of worry etched at the corners of his eyes. "I appreciate your saying so—my apologies for the lack of—structure."

The tablet chimed and Cora made an annoyed sound.

"What?" Henry motioned for her to lean closer.

"They said we don't have the right sort of presses for all of the factories." Cora scowled. "We should. I ordered them three years ago."

"Three years ago?" Lewis repeated. This time, he looked up. There was only one production factory that had three custom-built presses for a certain type of crafted gem. "You mean that time in the-"

"Yes." Cora said, impatiently. "That time. We did receive them, didn't we? They were supposed to be crafting those six-sided rubies with the-"

"I'll check," Desmond said, rising to his feet from where he'd been sitting beside their Gheyo Prince. He was familiar with her fretting and knew the best way to set her mind at ease, was to personally verify whatever was troubling her. This was an easy enough fix for the moment. "Come with?"

The Gheyo yawned and rolled up to his feet in unspoken agreement. Short and stocky, he was nearly dwarfed behind Desmond's bulk, but his dark eyes flickered through the room, silently taking stock of everything before his departure.

"I'll send word as soon as I've verified everything," Desmond said. He held out a hand, waiting. The Gheyo took it, already beginning the first threads of a mild transportation portal. They could opt for something stronger, when they were in mid-air. It would have more power then.

Cora nodded, absently. That would be one thing off of her mind and a million more at stake. "Good—make sure you've laid hands on all of them…"

"Perhaps we should call this an early night?" Ethan suggested. "Theo?" He couldn't help thinking they were somehow in the way of the Peverell's. In spite of the effort to be mildly welcoming, he could clearly see that they were all preoccupied with something he had yet to know.

"Dinner," Vincent said, belatedly. "I'm sure we—"

"We'll order something out," Ethan said, quickly. He softened the statement with a smile, so the older Pareya wouldn't take it as a slight against their hospitality. "Please don't trouble yourself—I was rather hoping for something—more private."

Vincent relaxed, a fraction. He found himself able to nod and smile. "Of course—if there's anything you need?"

"I will be sure to ask," Ethan said, smoothly. "I'm hoping I can look after them with minimal amount of fuss. Thank you for hosting us." He stood, holding out a hand to Harry, who took it almost instantly.

"Lewis—their rooms," Vincent prompted, a beat later. "It may need some adjusting."

"I'll take them," Lewis said. He could read between the lines—the room had been prepared for three and would need to be expanded for Ethan. He was on his feet and holding open the door, careful to keep his distance from Theo. "Congratulations," he murmured, softly—as Harry and Ethan passed him.

Harry smiled, wanly. "Thanks."

Ethan waited until Lewis had left, retreating down the hallway and back to his Circle. It had taken a bit more convincing than he'd expected, for Lewis to believe that he could alter the room himself. He rubbed his face and pulled on one pointed ear, when his instincts still didn't settle straightaway.

"Ethan?" Theo's voice was measured. It was hard to miss the fact that Ethan had yet to allow any of them to enter the room—even Lewis. He could easily guess that it was a Pareyic thing, but standing in the hallway while Ethan figured out a polite way to explain that, was not on his list of things to do.

"Instinct," Ethan said, quickly—sheepishly, almost. "I need to—check the room."

"The room?" Charlie paused in mid-step of attempting to shuffle around Ethan again. He'd only stopped when Theo had caught his arm. "What's wrong with the room?"

"Instinct." Ethan repeated, cheerfully. His eyes fluxed from gold to a rich, honeyed hue. "I need to verify that everything is—safe and suitable. Pareyic thing."

"What do you need from us?" Theo asked, carefully. Besides standing out here in an empty hallway…

Ethan flinched, an audible crack of magic sparking in the air beside him. He could see why Theo was a bit rough around the edges. There was far too much air elemental magic swirling around them. "Just—stay?" He asked, carefully. He could fix the air magic-balancing it out with some earth magic-but it would take a bit of care. "The runes are really—not as grounding as they should be." He frowned. "No wonder you've been on edge."

"I am not on edge," Theo growled.

"Of course," Ethan muttered. "Of course. But I am." He toed off his shoes with a barely visible spell—thin strands of gold and teal spiralling around his feet—a faint glow remaining around them. "Excuse me."

He stepped into the room and released his hold on the raging magic stretching inside of him. It burst out in a happy, vibrant glow, swelling to fill the entire room in brightness. Air seemed to rush from the room, straining to push through the doorway and something, somehow, calmed.

Harry's soft gasp was telling.

Ethan nearly smiled to himself. He'd expected as much. He floated into the room, noting that his magic was already keeping him from touching the floor—due to the mix of the air elemental magic and the grounding runes.

Oh this would be fun.

"It'll only take a minute," he called over one shoulder.

A minute, Harry thought annoyed. It wasn't exactly productive to watch Ethan gliding through the room and touching—everything.

"Instinct?" He repeated, looking to Theo for answers. He was not quite sure how he felt about Ethan inspecting his clothes—from trousers down to pants—with precise, deliberate hands. Shadow, he was worried to note—was definitely not in the room anywhere that he could see. "I don't see Shadow."

"Pareyas protect," Theo reminded him. His impatience lingered, but he worked to temper it.

"I don't see him either," Charlie said, quietly. "I don't sense him and I know I could—before."

"Lewis said he was here," Harry leaned into the room.

"Stay-!" Ethan called out, automatically.

Harry pulled a face, but obediently leaned back into place. Ethan had nearly turned everything inside out and still—no Shadow. Surely Lewis hadn't made a mistake somewhere?

Theo watched Harry—noting the different expressions and eventually, the look of resignation. Harry would worry about the little Nytura, but not want to bother anyone by asking about it. Theo frowned.

Watching Ethan was interesting enough for the time being—as was Harry. It had taken a significant amount of willpower to remain silent at the absolutely bewildered look on Harry's face when Ethan had begun rummaging through their clothes.

"I'm sure it's here somewhere," Theo said, as soothingly as he could manage. "He's probably napping somewhere."

Harry sighed. Loudly. "So—this?" He gestured to the room.

"Ethan needs to know that nothing we currently have, is dangerous or will cause some sort of detrimental effect in the long-term. He also wants to know what we have, so if we're missing anything important, we can pick it up as soon as possible." Theo explained.

"Our clothes?" Harry threw back, helplessly. "What's wrong with our clothes?"

"Most Pareyas help with a full turnout," Theo braced in the doorway, Charlie opposite of him and Harry between them. "They usually make sure everyone's wearing the right outfits and they help with wardrobe upkeep, depending on the type of Pareya. Each one is different." His brow furrowed. "Ethan could be one of those-Ethan?"

"Connections," Ethan's reply floated back. He'd been listening to their conversation with half an ear. At present, he'd finished examining their respective sets of clothing, appalled at the meagre selection. Clothes shopping was definitely necessary for all of them.

"Connections?" Harry looked to Theo. It was eaiser to wait for Theo to answer, then attempting to hear what Ethan was saying from halfway under the bed.

"I've made dozens of useful connections from researching several things for my academic essays." Ethan answered, without missing a beat. He disappeared further under the bed. "Social connections, if you must be precise. Social and scholarly." He wriggled out from under the bed, popping up to scowl at it from his seat on the floor.

"Social and scholarly?" Theo said, wryly. "Isn't that the same?"

"Social as in the Hunt and high society," Ethan mumbled. He frowned at the bed, then gave a slight jump onto it, bouncing in the middle. "Scholarly as—well, scholarly. The schools and such. We do have quite an impressive academic history you know."

Charlie's eyebrows arched upward. He said nothing, but his face cycled through expressions of confusion, surprise and exasperation. He didn't see how jumping on the bed was solving anything, but it did make him want to laugh and he supposed that was a good thing, considering how serious the day had been.

"Essays?" Theo prompted. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Ethan said, bouncing to a stop. His frown deepened. "I can't find the bloody-" He rolled over to lie on his stomach, leaning forward, half-off of the bed. He braced his hands on the floor to peer under the bed, head not-quite-touching the floor. "Connections." He repeated, voice muffled. "I like history, so I know all of the Clan Chiefs from the previous royal reign—and about three more above that. It was a project on improvements and integration of magical technology as opposed to pure magic." Ethan gave a grunt and managed to move from half-folded over the edge of the bed, to a calculated tumble that resulted in a crouch beside the bed, where he stayed—still frowning.

"Not to your liking?" Theo asked, amused.

"No grounding runes," Ethan said, at last. "They should have put something on it, but I can't find a thing! I should be able to feel it and I can't feel the slightest hint of a—" he stopped, glancing over to see if they were all following him. The look of confusion on Harry's face, prompted him to explain more. "If you can't sleep in a stable space in a secondary element, it's usually because something is missing. There's something missing here, so it's no wonder that you've been so on edge—" he gestured and the bed levitated upward.

"You know runes?" Charlie asked, impressed.

"Arielle, no. I know enough of them." Ethan said. "And I'm a decent hand at manipulating them, once they're already in place."

"…So you're fixing those?" Harry's eyes tracked him as he moved around the floating bed and began to trace shapes into the air.

"Something like that," Ethan paused, long enough to flash a smile. "I know what should be here, so I'm casting them and anchoring them. The ones in the corner of the room are fine, but they don't actually touch the bed." He nodded to Charlie. "How's the air for you? No issues or anything off?"

Charlie shrugged. "Nothing that I've noticed, I guess."

"Tell me if you notice something," Ethan said. "Harry?"

"It's Theo," Harry said, simply. "I'm fine."

"It's not Theo," Theo retorted. "It's nothing to worry abo—" he hissed, stumbling from the threshold into the room.

Ethan ducked his head to hide a smile. He walked out from under the bed and it lowered, softly behind him. A quick neatening spell rippled through the room, fixing everything he'd been rifling through. He'd thought the runes would do the trick, but it was nice see that he'd been right in the first place.

"What was that?" Theo demanded, eyes fluxed to a deep, dark brown. Not quite black, but definitely not gold.

Ethan met his gaze squarely, then, before it could turn into a staredown, he opened his mouth and trilled—a series of beautiful, musical sounds that made Theo's jaw snap shut, with an audible click of his teeth.

Charlie cautiously stepped into the room, with Harry already behind him and heading to Theo's side.

"Ethan!" Harry looked anxiously between him and Theo. His hands fluttered at Theo's shoulders. "What did you just-?"

"Earth runes activated." Ethan said, calmly. "You had grounding runes. Not necessarily earth grounding runes. Better?"

Theo made a grumbling noise.

Ethan laughed, approaching in slow movements. He held out his hands, giving Theo plenty of time to refuse him, before he entered his personal space. He purred and nuzzled at Theo's neck and along his jaw.

After a few minutes, Theo huffed and turned away, cheeks a faint pink. "A little warning…" he trailed off.

Ethan's smiled softened. "I didn't realise it would affect you so deeply. I was guessing at whether it was that or something else."

"Something else?" Theo's eyes narrowed. He hated other people trying to figure him out—especially when he knew so little of them.

"Harry's worried about you," Ethan said, bluntly. "So I need to make sure he's not worrying for nothing."

Theo's gaze snapped to Harry, who shrugged, apologetically.

"You don't like Lewis, you're on edge whether you're admitting it or not and you're not—you're not you." Harry said, shrinking in on himself. "I don't like that and I—I don't know what to do about it." He started, faintly, when Charlie wrapped his long arms around him, searing warmth offering a strong sense of security and stability. Instinctively, he leaned back.

"You don't have to do anything about it," Ethan said, briskly. "Those are things a Circle works out—together."

"What did you do?" Charlie asked, wonderingly. Even though he'd heard the explanation, the change was so vastly different, it felt like a different room. He'd felt it the moment he'd stumbled inafter Harry. A surprising sense of peace and stability—as if the ground was truly solid beneath his feet.

Now that it was there, he could understand Theo's earlier irritability in their morning conversation. He almost laughed, but bit it back. His Alpha still looked rather disgruntled and Charlie wanted to see him relax a bit more.

"Noticed it, now?" Ethan teased. He waved them towards the bed. "I'll order out something when you want to eat, but for now—I think we have a lot to discuss."

Theo didn't answer, but he ushered Harry and Charlie to the bed, his shoulders relaxing a fraction.

Food could wait. Ethan was right—they did have to talk and maybe, this refreshing way of simply speaking what was on their mind would be good for them.

LUNA, ROLF AND MOLLY WEASLEY & CO.

In the centre of the crater—a large, gnarled root burst through the ground, furiously burrowing into the forest floor. Luna waited for the incoming magic to fully settle into the forest. She knew to read it as people and not as an intruder.

"They're here," she announced, because Rolf was still holding her and he didn't seem like he intended to stop anytime soon.

Not that she was protesting.

But still.

There were things to do.

Luna hummed a bit until his arms gradually slackened and allowed her to sit up. She tapped his nose with one finger—because she could—then delicately fluttered up and above him.

She could sense familiar auras and magic, just within reach. It was such a relief; she could hardly believe it. Sometimes she wondered if she could make a mistake—because it was so hard to tell when she was right.

Or could be right, anyway.

Rolf stood beside her, his wings tucked in from the earlier impact.

Gliding closer, Luna smiled to herself as she watched Molly Weasley stand protectively at the farthest edge of their little group, her brilliant red wings stretched out to encompass them.

A lovely picture—a mother sheltering her children—or better yet, a dragel submissive displaying all protective instincts for the ones they travel with.

Strikingly lovely, Luna thought to herself.

A new thought settled in her head as she stepped out from behind the tree. "Hello!" she called out.

Rolf made a strangled sound behind her, but hurried out into the open, his magic swirling around him as they drew the attention of the newcomers.

"Luna!" Ginny was the first to react, her eyes wide—shock and disbelief showing plainly on her face. "Are you—what—what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you," Luna said, simply. "Hello." She said, again. She looked at all of them in turn, silently cataloguing their magical states and respective bonds. Her smile softened as she looked over at Neville and Lavender, then Dean and Seamus.

"You're a fae," Augusta said, grumpily. She could see the fine wisps of fairy dust fluttering through the air—fairy dust that was not native to the wooded area they'd just crashed through. "Did you break the portal?"

"You couldn't have entered," Luna explained. "The barriers are up."

"Barriers are always up," Molly said. Her warm gaze narrowed, faintly. "We would've been fine—" she hesitated. "Luna, yes?" She was sure she'd seen the young witch a time or two before, Ginny had mentioned her.

"Mrs. Weasley," Luna answered, politely. "The forest barrier, maybe. But not the other ones." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "Definitely not the other ones. Nevarah is on a lockdown. There are no outside entries. This was the safest point to reach you. Any further and it would be too dangerous, any sooner and someone would be left behind." She sighed, dreamily. "The forest is good tonight though. We can leave in the morning."

"The morning?" Ginny exclaimed. "Luna-!"

"In the morning?" Rolf echoed. He was not looking forward to that in the least. There was no telling what was beyond their little protected space.

All eyes turned to him.

Luna smiled, a sad tinge to it. "This is Rolf," she said, dropping down to stand on her own two feet. Her wings melted away. "He's a friend. Rolf, these are the ones from the wizarding world. The one's I've told you about." She listed their names and pointed them out, one at a time.

A few awkward greetings were exchanged, until a heavy silence settled over all of them. There was little to say, considering the strange circumstances.

"Please don't be alarmed," Luna said, cheerfully. The dreamy look faded from her eyes and she managed to hold her smile. A new piece of her little puzzle had clicked into place and they would definitely need to stay here for the night. "It's really alright now."

Augusta gave a slow, moaning groan. "Your definition of alright seems to be a bit off," she said, tartly. "But if you've come all this way—then there must be a reason."

"Many reasons," Luna said. "But most of them would take too long to explain to you all." She reached up to a tuck a stray curl behind one ear. "How was it, when you left?"

The older women exchanged a glance.

Molly sighed. Even if Luna had broken the portal and brought them all there—safely, she couldn't bring herself to tell her how the Wizarding World was devolving into strange, dark days. Couldn't tell her how she'd lost so much—too much—and was barely standing, because of Ginny. "It's not—good," she said, at last. "Not good at all. But, we were leaving and now, here we are!

If you think we should stay here for the night, we should set up a camp of sorts." She shivered. "It doesn't feel very safe—"

"We'll stay right here," Luna said, quickly. "Here is safest." Something roared and groaned in the distance. Luna winced. "Definitely safest."

Molly gave her a look, but didn't comment. She could see the tired lines around her eyes and the weariness in Rolf. They'd likely pushed themselves all day, traveling, to meet them there. Maybe. Possibly. "Here then," she agreed, reluctantly.

"How?" Lavender wanted to know, eyes narrowed. She had yet to release her death grip on Neville's arm. When she'd awkwardly waded into the strange portal, the last thing she'd expected was to end up in some creepy forest with Loony Lovegood of all people, waiting to greet them. "How do you know it's safest?"

"Blood offering," Rolf said. Now he understood what she'd been doing on the ground, with his knife and the runes. "Here will be safest, because she's made it that way. The trees tend to listen to her." He sighed and produced his travel pack out of thin air. "We have basic provisions," he began. "But since there's so many of us, we'll need to take a bit of care."

"We'll help," Dean said, glancing at Seamus. "Right?"

Seamus mustered up a smile. "Sure." He said. "What do we need?"

EVANSONS : JUN, BRIAR, GEORGE AND REGULUS

"It's kind of long," George said, fingering the silky wrist-cuffs. "And isn't this too fancy?"

"It's plain," Ivy corrected. "Very plain. There's nothing fancy about it." She twirled her finger, motioning for him to mirror the action.

George sighed, but obediently turned so she could see the full outfit. They'd been at it for nearly two hours now. Jun had dropped them off, collected Gardenia and Rian, then disappeared once more.

Ivy had taken one look at both of them, before incorporating George and the hulking Zephyr into her shopping entourage.

To his credit, Zephyr merely ducked his head and allowed the excessive fussing. He did speak up to explain why he preferred shorter sleeves and loose collars, as a Gheyo Joker, but said nothing else. Ivy listened, nodded and made a few adjustments.

Regulus was the hardest one to shop for, because of his wings, a detail where Briar had finally spoken up—suggesting they all take a late lunch. Any protests his Pareya would have had at that, were immediately stayed on account of the topic. He planned to remedy those wings soon and had hoped he'd be able to do so, before the shopping spree had become too extravagant. Then again, it was Ivy.

Lunch—specifically, food for their respective Bonded—was a suitably distracting option compared to clothes shopping. Avoiding the inner tiers of the Hunt, the entire Evanson Circle made their way to the less crowded family restaurants on the outskirts of the main city.

They were greeted effusively at the door, a round of happy conversation following them all the way to a large horseshoe-shaped table, with chairs on both sides. The Pareya took charge, rattling off available entrees and collecting the votes as to what to order.

Once orders were placed, everyone settled in and quieted down. The Pareya were scattered throughout the chairs, allowing them to be within easy access of the appetizers—and well-within arm's reach for refilling their Bonded's empty plates.

The children were allowed their own little group—near the end of the table, flanked by their respective parents—as the remaining Gheyos took up the rear, alert, but relaxed.

It was curious to see how they'd done it, George noted. He'd seen Jun and Briar gravitate towards the centre of the table, speaking to each other in low tones—not paying the least bit of attention to the seating arrangements and shuffling by the rest of their Bonded.

George couldn't help but notice that Regulus had been seated to Briar's left and Jun on his right. Zephyr was by Jun's right. He'd been shuffled to sit directly across from Jun—with Rian across from Briar.

Sneaky, George thought. Because with the two 'newest' Bonded so close to Jun and Briar, he had a feeling it was a subtle statement of sorts for the rest of them to take note of. He couldn't help noticing that Gardenia was missing.

The other Gheyos were present, but Gardenia had paused long enough to listen to Jun when they'd first arrived and then vanished as if by direction. He wondered what that was about.

"Alright?" Rian prompted, leaning back so Orchid could add another breadstick to his and George's plates, respectively. He loved the food here and was glad to be able to add a new memory to the musty old ones in the back of his mind.

George managed a smile. "Great."

"Jun—is Gardenia coming back?" Heather wanted to know. She bustled around the outer section of their chosen table, pushing chairs closer and making sure the children were settled. "I thought we were on a schedule. Doesn't your father always spend the majority of his day out in the thick of the Hunt? We'll miss him if we linger too long."

"She's checking on something." Jun said, her hands hovered around Briar for a moment, before settling on smoothing down his collar.

Briar sniffed, but leaned into the touch, not refusing the connection. "We were hardly presentable," he said. "Now that we have something to present properly—we should eat first, before turning up on his doorstep."

"Food could wait," Leif began, uncertainly. "If we're going to miss him, then maybe we should-"

"Says the one who is always hungry," Briar interrupted. "We'll see him after everyone's been fed and watered. I won't have you all turning up there whining like a bunch of-"

"We know," Jun said, smoothly. She could sense a Briar-rant in the making and given their current frayed nerves, preferred if it didn't take place just yet. "That was very good thinking, darling."

"And normally it isn't?" Briar huffed.

"Normally, it's spectacular," Jun kissed the top of his head. He really was adorable when he made that face. "I'm simply readjusting to it. Order for me, would you?" she turned to her left. "Flora, I need you check on something else for me. It shouldn't take long."

The pink-haired Fae slipped over to Jun's side. She leaned in close, nodding once at the barely audible murmurs. "As you like," she said, nuzzling Jun's cheek.

"Thank you," Jun pulled her close, gifting her a bite to one delicately pointed air.

It prompted a shower of shimmering fairy dust, before Flora sucked in a breath and shrank to the size of kitten. She shook herself all over, before a flash of pink-gold energy swirled up.

Seconds later, she'd vanished.

George stared. He hadn't realized that she could alter her size.

"George?" Rian waved a hand in front of his face. "Do you want juice or something stronger?" He held up a pitcher.

"He doesn't want anything stronger," Regulus answered for him, levelling a stern look in George's direction. "I don't know how his element reacts with it—and I don't think he does either."

"My element?" George looked to Jun. He knew of Firewhiskey and other Wizarding World drinks, but he'd never been much of a fan. Sure, he'd tried it—as had Fred, but he hadn't seen the point of it.

"Give him the berry-fizz," Heather offered. She sent the sparkling blue-purple drink floating down the table. "Try some of the fruit ones or a vegetable one, if you'd prefer something less sweet."

"Fire elements have a tendency to react to anything that has the possibility of being—flammable," Jun explained. "As most drinks are. Which, in turn, is largely because you can use it to boost your flames. Not a bad thing, in a serious situation, but not helpful in a social setting."

"Fizz," George said, quickly. The last thing he needed was to set the table on fire for choking on a breadstick or something. He took the glass offered. "Thanks."

"Keep it in mind," Rian said, cheerfully. "Other elements have different reactions to things, but fire types need to be careful of hot springs, flammable drinks and stormy weather."

It took a second for the information to click and when it did, George groaned. He set the glass down, untouched and buried his face in his arms. He silently prayed that Harry was a compatible element and then that Theo was someone he could live with.

From what he'd seen of Harry at the Burrow, that was—fine. Mostly. He had no idea what kind of element Harry could have, much less Theo.

"It's not that bad. You'll learn." Regulus poured himself a small glass of the orange-carrot juice. "Besides, having an affinity for an element, versus actually having it, are two different things."

George only whined in answer.

There was a smattering of good-natured laughter down the length of the table, with a few sympathetic clucks thrown in.

"I see Ivy wore you out." Rian teased. "Didn't Jasmine warn you?"

"I did," Jasmine's reply floated across the table. "Not my fault if he thought I was joking."

"Neither of you have any stamina at all," Ivy huffed. Her face was a bright pink. "I was rushing! We've barely gotten anything suitable for any sort of respectable function of good standing-!"

"Suitable, she says," Chris rolled his eyes upward. "Says the Queen's champion of the Clan-"

"Oh hush you!" Ivy's quick hands snapped out, launching a breadstick with startling accuracy.

Chris leaned back, catching it with one hand and grimacing at the buttery garlic spread now smeared on his hand. "Ivy!" He tore it half and threw one half back, before taking an oversized bite of the other.

Leif snatched the half before it reached Ivy. "Stop it, you two." He rumbled. "What are you, five? This is why I can't take you anywhere."

"You never take me anywhere," Ivy countered. "You're always saying that you're too tired and you'd rather eat my cooking." Her lips twitched in a barely hidden smirk. She knew exactly what he would say next.

"I took you out to the Siren Ba-"

"That doesn't count." She said, tartly. "Give me back my breadstick."

"That was one time!" Leif said, irritated. He ate the breadstick in two contrary bites. "And I said I'd make it up to you."

Ivy sniffed. "That was five years ago and I'm still waiting," she said, primly. "This doesn't count either. This is Briar's idea." She looked to George. "When you find your lovely Submissive, make sure you're both on the same page. A written contract is a thing of beauty."

"Written…contract?" George stared. That was a first to him. "There's different kinds?"

Leif, Rian and Ivy stared back in varying degrees of worry. The conversation dimmed a bit. The Pareya continued settling everyone down with the various appetizers set on the table.

"There's many different kinds," Ivy said at last, her brows furrowed in thought. "Jun's probably forgotten to mention it." She gave a slight shake of her head. "This is why Alphas aren't usually mentors, you know. The most common kind is unspoken, but it's usually done in the vein of lifelong love, loyalty and respect. You mean to love the one you've chosen, you will be loyal to them, no matter what and you'll respect them as you wish to be respected. In turn, it is mirrored back to you."

"And you just—know?" George asked, dubiously. That didn't sound very official at all.

"Your magic asks it." Orchid added another spinach puff to George's plate. She'd noticed he was avoiding some of the vegetables, but cheese always helped to hide nutritional value. "When you're marking each other, the mark won't take unless both sides are willing and compatible. You both have to wish for the same thing and it's rather common. You want love, that's one part of it. You want that love to be loyal and you are pledging your loyalty, right?"

George nodded, slowly.

"Then of course, love can be many different things to many different people. Respect is important. When we respect each other, our differences or boundaries, we become who we are and not mindless creatures of devotion." She rolled her eyes. "Some races have trouble understanding that when it comes to us dragels. They think there's no way you could love more than one person or even that so many of us could co-exist in such blissful harmony. Sure, there are moments—but isn't life full of those?"

"Very full," Leif chimed in. He held out his plate for an extra serving of the dipping sauce being passed around him. "It's being able to share everything with those around you, who really care. And at the same time you are loving, you are being loved. That's the idea behind a Circle, anyway. Or part of it. I never paid much attention when they tried to explain it."

"Let me guess, you were the student that always fell asleep while they were taking the general exams, yes?" Ivy teased.

Leif blushed. "That's not fair," He floated the sauce out of her reaching hands. "At least I didn't pass out from lack of—Oof!" He grunted. The sauce dropped.

Ivy summoned it to her side, cleaning up any stray droplets on the way with another flicker of magic. She added a generous serving to her plate and sent it floating on down the table.

"Alright, you two—really!" Chris scolded. "Leif—stop it. Ivy, behave. George, don't think about it in those sorts of terms. Think about it the way Orchid was saying. Your magic responds. That's the most common, but there's also informal contracts—and those are done verbally. Sometimes, physically, but the physical one won't take unless there's verbal and magical consent. See, your Sub—prospective or otherwise—has to call out to you. They have to want you. If they don't respond to your favour or they aren't receptive to more than polite conversation, then you should back off. When they want you, they'll cry for you—and you'll feel an instinctive urge to go to them. If you follow your instincts at that point, everything will work out. I promise."

"Listen to Chris," Orchid hummed. "Ivy—stop kicking him under the table and Leif, if you wanted to sit next to her, you should have done so."

Ivy turned as red as Jun's hair.

Leif rubbed his face—but it didn't hide the mirroring blush. "Switch?" he asked, looking at Chris.

Chris didn't even hesitate. He merely held up one hand and snapped his fingers—his own magic taking care of the request.

George blinked. They'd swapped seats and plates in a heartbeat. He looked back to Ivy and then immediately back at his plate. Ivy was already half in Leif's lap, the following kiss hidden from the fact that Ivy's long hair hid most of it from view.

"Ivy?" Rian prompted, worriedly. The bonds were fine, as far as he could tell and there were no outside threats within range. But Leif wasn't exactly one for public displays of affection and he wasn't even protesting as Ivy took charge of the moment.

"They're fine," Chris said, slowly. "I think something upset her in the shopping district though. You know she's sensitive to outside energies." He nudged Rian. "You had a formal contract though, didn't you? Share."

Rian nudged him back. "Briar's father is very traditional. Particularly because of our element," and here, his eyes fluxed from their typical reddish-brown hue to something darker and much deeper. "It has age-old tradition, steeped in the very best traits that the Shadow element offers. He asked if I would be willing to sign and agree to a formal contract. A very simple one, mind you, but still binding. I didn't see why not. It made him happy enough to approve of our Bonding."

"My father didn't approve of Briar," Jun said, quietly. She looked from her plate to Briar and held out a hand. He took it at once, tugging her closer. She leaned down for the kiss to her cheek and the nuzzle to her jawline. "I signed the contract anyway. I didn't care that he didn't approve. My mother adored him. She thought he was perfect."

"I am perfect," Briar said, amused. He held up their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. A happy thrum of magic rippled out through the room, with several strong pulses of joy singing through the shared bonds.

George watched, amazed, as every Bonded—even the children—froze and reacted as the empathic feedback reached them. It took a split-second longer, before the feedback crashed into him as well. Their mentored bond sang merrily with renewed emotion. Magic roared through his veins. His ears and neck warmed.

Jun flushed a light pink. "Sorry," she muttered, visibly reigning her empathy in. The raging magical aura dropped to an acceptably tolerable level.

Rian smiled, broadly. He had missed this so much. "Nothing to apologize for," he said, calmly. "We're glad to have you back—and I have missed that, awkward as it can be in a full house." He hid his blush behind the pretence of dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

Jun perked a brow.

Briar helpfully bit off half of his breadstick. He offered the remaining piece.

Jun threw it at Rian.

George caught it as it bounced off of the Beta's quick shield. He couldn't help it. He laughed.

"A Hartwood?" Jun repeated, staring at Rian. "Why would they ask after our Circle? We've been out of the public eye since—well, decades since anyone has bothered to dig up anything on us."

Briar leaned into her, his hand twining around hers. "When was it checked out?"

"That's the problem," Rian said, sighing heavily. "A few hours before."

"Hours?" Jun straightened up, lowering her voice. The rest of her Bonded were fussing over George and Regulus—the other half of their shopping trip, now nearly at an end. They'd finished the meal and ventured out into the shopping district once more. She'd guessed that they needed the distraction and figured that they were also buying necessities for when she'd request guest quarters at the main house.

Rian's latest bit of news was significantly disturbing. From everything she'd heard at this point, no one had bothered them too much in her absence and they'd been largely keeping out of sight.

"Hours," Rian confirmed. "I've spelled something on it—so we should have some sort of notice, if anyone checks it out again. But, it was a young Hartwood too—an Ethan? I can't place him at all. I don't remember anyone with-"

"He was a royal examiner," Briar said, quietly. "There was a brief mention of him, some time ago. He was one of the appointed exam monitors during the last Royal testing to rotate the students of court."

"That's it?" Rian said, incredulously. "That doesn't tell us anything!"

"It tells us that he's smart and he probably has royal connections from that," Briar said, thoughtfully. "That's interesting." He frowned at his Beta. "Calm down. There's no need to panic."

"Calm? Panic? Briar—I'm being serious and you're not even-"

"Stop it, both of you." Jun scolded, she rubbed at her forehead. "That won't help. Rian—I know you're worried and we're all worrying right along with you, but I don't believe we had any issues with any Hartwood—at least before I left. Unless I've missed something, we're fine. Briar, darling—"

He stared up at her, the picture of innocence.

Jun snorted. "Not working," she muttered, kissing him anyway. "We will sort this out. Don't take your frustrations out on Rian, alright?"

Briar snuck another kiss. He didn't answer.

She didn't push him. He would listen, if only because he wanted to make her happy.

Rian looked away—not quite sulking.

Jun reached out and pulled him closer, as she turned away from Briar. It took a minute of nuzzling and a few, soft kisses, before Rian melted back into her one-armed embrace.

Briar chirped softly, drawing a smile from both of them.

"There's also been a request," Rian said, at last. "For a seal removal."

"A what?" Jun stared at him.

"I'm not repeating everything just because you didn't believe me the first time." Rian gave her a look. "Let me finish. A small Circle—they don't have an official Circle name as yet and I couldn't request any information without giving away that I was inquiring into them. Given that I thought we were attempting to stay in the shadows for the time being, I didn't request it. The formal request is probably with your father, though I can't think why he hasn't accepted it."

Jun's face smoothed out into a carefully blank expression.

Briar frowned, a flicker of alarm beginning to register as he felt their bonds turn a bit too calm for his tastes. She'd realised something and was blocking her empathy, in order to mentally sort it out. "Jun?"

"The tapestry," Rian began. He looked away, his voice low. "It's correct—except that, well, there's—one is deceased. Long time ago. Years. The other is—greyed out, but with markings."

"Markings?" Briar repeated. "What kind?"

"Well, both are partnered—and their names were registered. They show as Lily and Petunia—" Rian swallowed, ignoring the small sound of distress from Jun. "They each have a child, Harry for Lily and Dudley for Petunia."

"Which one—?" Briar faltered.

"Lily and her partner, James, are dead." Rian said, steadily. "Some time back. Not sure how or why. Harry's alive. Probably lives with Petunia and hers, I'd expect. They'd want to stay close together, I'd think. Doesn't look anything like dragel-life, if the solitary is to be believed. There's only the one for each of them."

Coolness crept into Jun's veins, the words rattling around in her head as she heard Rian continue. Her mind was tortured with the thought of a young baby passing through a portal and somehow, now a grown woman with children and a solitary Bonded. What an odd, lonely life.

"And it's greyed out?" Briar confirmed.

"All three of them," Rian said. "The partner, Vernon—dead, but the skull and crossbones suggests a Death Seal."

"A Death Seal?" Jun started, violently. Her magic swirled viciously around her. "Someone put a Death Seal on my daughter?"

"Shhh—" Briar said, at once, reaching up to pull Jun to him. He dug his fingers into her side, blunting his claws to add some pressure. "Shhh—Jun, please. Focus. Come on—look at me." He held her gaze until she visibly calmed. "Look at me. Don't—don't do that. Rian-!" He ground out.

"I've inquired after the Death Seal and permissions to leave the realm," Rian said, quickly. He shouldn't have stopped in mid-story, but retelling it had somehow made it more real than mere research. "It'll take some time, you know how slow everything is in the Hunt, but we'll have answers and we'll find them."

Jun took a slow breath and nodded. She leaned heavily into Briar, clutching at him for comfort and grounding. "I know. Sorry. It's just-"

"I know." Briar murmured. "I know. It's alright." He held her as close as he could and and nearly smiled when Rian's arms wrapped around them both. They were managing. Not quite broken, but repairing just the same.

"I need to speak to my father." Jun said, at last. "There's something we're missing here and I can't—I don't know what it is."

"I'll tell them to hurry," Rian said, quietly. "Briar?"

"Hm?"

"Regulus—stop stalling, eh?"

Briar half-smiled. "Not stalling at all. Just waiting for an uninterrupted night."

Rian snorted. "Try tonight, regardless of interruptions. The sooner, the better—you could even try a time-alteration if you're that worried."

"I'm not worried, but he's a skittish sort."

Jun stifled a laugh. "He is, isn't he? But he's adorable. You'll love him. Both of you," she added, when Rian gave her a look.

"True," Briar agreed. His dark eyes tracked the feathered Regulus, dutifully turning twice, for Ivy to inspect the new outfit. "Very true."

EVANSON ANCESTRAL HOME : (RESIDENCE OF JUN'S FATHER)

The transportation spell set them down outside of the wards of main house in the Evanson estate. Once the shopping had been settled, Jun had skipped straight to the next pressing matter-visiting her Father and his Circle.

"Shields up!" Jun snapped, as the portal faded. Her empathy roiled and shifted, a deep, terrible feeling of wrongness settling over her. "Briar—Rian!"

"With you," Rian grunted, flanking her left as Briar took her right. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing, but it was hard with the fierce, empathic feedback streaking through the shared bonds. "Jun—talk to me."

Everything looked too peaceful, too perfect—and a half-second later, the stasis shattered.

From the bright, cheerful image of a pristine estate, to a vision of crumbling stone, rampant thorns and a distinctly oppressive aura. Jun hissed. That was the wrongness she'd sensed.

"Fabrine!" Gardenia called out. There were flickers at the corners and she was not looking forward to waht was about to follow. "Circle up—guards out!"

The Pareyas had already cast protective shields at Jun's order and now, they moved into a defensive formation. The children gathered in the centre and the Pareyas circled them, with the Gheyos flanking along the front and left, with Jun, Rian and Briar on the right and centre. George found himself guarding on the left side.

Jun was the first one to move, her brows furrowed into a deep crease. "Briar?"

Briar edged closer to her, his eyes flaring a faint shade of red, overriding the usual hazel hue. "Smells…old." He muttered, stretching a hand out towards the thin, wavering wards. They were visible to his naked eye and he could see countless, jagged tears through them. They'd nearly failed—it was a miracle they were still standing.

Jun made a soft sound in her throat, but didn't stop him.

The wards crumbled at his touch.

"Leif—Jasmine?" Gardenia called out, squaring up her shoulders, drawing her twin-edged sword. "Third and fifth formation—the rest of you, be ready!"

"As if we're lounging about," Ivy grumbled. But it was more for the need to speak, than an actual complaint. She'd gathered her long hair into a magical braid and was now, calmly hooking sharpened spikes into certain, leather-wrapped sections. "I can't sense anything beyond the Fabrine and they haven't come out, so it's probably settled into the structure. Rian?"

"I think we'd better enter quickly—and move as fast as we can," Rian muttered. "On three?"

"Three," Jun agreed. "Gardenia?"

Gardenia rolled her shoulders back. "One, two, three!"

Rian cast three spells in rapid succession. He moved forward—unflinching as Briar simply dropped to all fours and blurred into his hound form.

Jun reached out, fisting a hand in his thick fur. Her eyes glowed an eerie green as they advanced. "I can't sense anyone," she muttered. "Not a single—living—soul."

Moving as a group, they entered the grounds.

Like an enchanted castle that had been left to ruins, the massive estate was covered in hundreds of overlapping, creeping vines on most surfaces. The beauty of it was marred by the darkened, blackened vines with an ominous aura surrounding certain patches.

"Poison!" Ivy called out. Her magic crackled at her fingertips.

"I can sense it," Chris answered. His wings fluttered, a sprinkle of golden fairy-dust wafting towards the patch. If they were lucky, it would reverse whatever dark enchantment had turned it.

Leif jerked forward, slashing out and down—as the patch came to life, throwing out thorned vines to snatch them. The fairy dust littered the ground, fading almost at once-useless. "Sentient!"

"Noted," Gardenia threw back. "Steer clear—we want to make it inside."

Jun poured her magic into the threads of her Pareya, feeding the shield that was protecting them. She pushed a bit of calm through George's mentored bond as well, adding a bit for Regulus through their own connection.

The Estate's various state of disrepair and disarray, was disturbing. In some places, the walkways were smooth and well-cared for, with patches of barren, tilled earth along the green squares of lawn, denoting gardens. In others, it looked as if some great evil had befallen it.

The sense of wrongness grew stronger, as they approached the main house and Jun loathed to think of what they would find there.

She hoped her family had left long before whatever had happened here. She could see massive chunks of overturned stone and evidence of a one-sided battle taking place, with the spell-residue still lingering, thanks to the stasis spell.

The main house was something of a statement, with massive curved steps leading up to giant double-doors. There were torches that magically lit as Jun and her Circle moved forward.

"None of the security is active," Gardenia muttered. She cut another slash in front of her, sending a crescent-shaped flare of magic on head, cutting through whatever was not yet visible to the naked eye. "Jas?"

"Nothing that I can sense," Jasmine sniffed, cautiously. "Can't smell anything either—something's not right here."

"Whatever gave it away?" Leif grumbled. He twitched at her look, but his sharp eyes gave away his alertness.

"Chris?" Azalea nudged him. "Try it a bit higher?"

Christ nodded, fluttering up, as prompted, his golden fairy dust sprinkling liberally over them—and the estate grounds—as they continued on.

The lack of magical protections was evidenced in the way that what few spells had held over time, now flickered out as they passed.

"Gardenia, I love you dearly and I trust your judgement," Jun said, through gritted teeth. "But if this turns out to be what I—"

"Go. Take Briar." Gardenia said, tersely. "Rian?"

"With them." The beta said, quickly. He blurred between them, an arm around Jun's waist and one hand reaching up to grab a handful of Briar's fur. "Breathe." He reminded, automatically.

Both Alpha and Sub gave him an exasperated look, but he didn't notice. The short jump from his nod to Gardenia—and the blur to their sides, was the only warning for the shadow shift that followed.

One minute they were there and the next, they weren't.

CHARACTER SNIPPET | CEDRELLA AND SEPTIMUS WEASLEY & Co. |TORVAK ESTATE OF SEPTIMUS WEASLEY

"You're feeding it?" Primus wrinkled his nose. "You know it could be feral."

"It?" Cedrella mocked. "Could it? Well, aren't you a close-minded little wretch-"

"I'd watch that mouth of yours." Primus said, calmly. Too calmly. His eyes tracked her every movement down the hallway, away from the basement stairs where she'd just taken a dinner tray down for her grandson.

The grandson that was now half-something or the other and apparently still coherent enough to call out for his family members.

"He's my grandson and I'll thank you to keep your prejudices to yourself," Cedrella shot back. "Better yet, don't you have more important things to do than lurking near stairwells?"

His gaze hardened to icy blue chips, the air growing decidedly cooler as he brushed past her. "One of these days, you'll find that your mask has crumbled and fallen," he hissed. "And you'll realise, too soon, that you've been seen for what you are!"

"And what am I, Primus?" She called after him, stopping in the midst of the hall. Her own uneasiness kept her from following him—an instinctive urge to retreat, as if somehow, her brother-in-law, was now the threat she'd always known him to be.

He didn't answer. He vanished around the corner, his footsteps fading away.

She stood, silently for a long moment. "…Not a monster," she whispered, half to herself. "Not a monster as you are."

Another presence approached and she drew upon her gifts to melt into the shadows of the darkened hallway. To her surprise, it was none other than the remaining twin, Fred, who made his way down, looking only marginally uneasy.

She smiled to herself, silently awarding him some merit for the brave act she had a feeling, he meant to commit. That was good.

She checked the time. Perhaps she could run back and help them a bit.

The uneasy feeling deepened. She stepped out from the shadows, watching as Fred disappeared around the corner and towards the basement stairs. That was fine. Ron could use the company.

Maybe it was best that they were together.

She paused. "Elric?" her voice was a mere whisper. He was her sworn familiar for life—particularly because she'd saved his life, but she'd never tried to force any sort of compliance from him.

He did as he pleased and she occasionally suggested he haunt certain annoying family members, to make her feel better.

Pettiness was childish, but still, there was some satisfaction from knowing that any guests beneath her watch, were also within her grasp.

She'd seen him hovering a few cells down when she'd taken Ron's food tray. She knew he would have attempted to speak to Ron on his own.

Then again, from what she'd seen of her flighty grandchild, he was certainly a bit of an overdramatic sort and there was always the slight possibility that he'd fainted.

"Elric, I know you can hear me—guard them. Pain of death upon your head should any foreign hand steal their lives before yours."

A flicker of white light at the corner of her eyes, flared brightly, as if in silent acknowledgment. She nearly smiled.

Loyalty was something to be treasured.

It was good to know some things still worked the way they ought to. The message in her pocket seemed to burn fiercely and she smoothed a hand over said pocket, silently willing it to remain hidden.

There was no time to properly dispose of it. Not now. She had a feeling it would be best to pay a visit to Bill and Fleur…

They were sitting on the bed.

Or, more correctly, Bill was sitting on the edge of the bed and Fleur was securely in his lap, her hands gently patting at his scarred face. They were conversing in a low murmur of French, that instantly stopped the moment Bill spotted her in the doorway.

"…Grandmother," he said, evenly.

Cedrella made herself smile, even though her heart ached to see the mistrust there. She'd worked hard though, very hard to keep up the facade that this damned game existed on.

In a different time—perhaps, back home—things would've been different.

Her smile wavered, turning into a grimace. The note in her pocket—burned. She leaned back from the door, checking that the hallway was still safe.

There were spells masking her movements and even her very presence.

"Were you happy before you came here?" she asked, abruptly.

Bill's stare hardened.

Ah, that was good enough, she mused. It wouldn't matter if he didn't want to tell her—it would matter if he wasn't alive to enjoy it anymore.

"Take Fleur and leave now," Cedrella said, briskly. She fished out the note from her pocket and held it out. Her magic silently twined over the paper scrap, turning it into something more useful. The message was smeared and half-faded. "This is a portkey—you're used to that method of travel, yes?"

"Leave-?" Bill exchanged a glance with Fleur. The mixture of confusion and barely concealed mistrust was visible in his eyes.

"It is not safe here and this—house," Cedrella stopped. Wasting time on explanations wouldn't do either of them any good. "It is not safe," she repeated. "You must leave."

"Without any kind of warning?" Fleur exclaimed. "What is it you have against us? Why don't you-"

Cedrella growled in frustration, she stalked into the room and caught Bill's arm when he meant to block a blow that never came.

There was a silent, vicious moment—and then, her eyes burned black. Dark, darker than black, it seemed, as Cedrella stood tall and menacing. Her magic filled the room with a terrible aura, but Bill and Fleur were caught in a trance.

Both of them had reached out to stop her—and instead, they'd ended up all grasping each other—connected as one, in the strangest of ways. Images, places, memories—everything streamed through them.

Secrets and horrors shared in a burst of knowledge that had definitely been intentional.

Fleur gasped and shuddered when the memories began to settle. She was the first to yank her hand back, her pale eyes wide, but fierce. Bill held her close to him.

For a long moment, no one moved.

Bill's gaze dropped. He held out his hand.

Cedrella placed the portkey on his palm. She flicked it, lightly, and silently intoned the words that would remove him from the house.

There was a soft, pop and a sudden blur, before they were no more.

She stood there, a half-second longer, staring at the empty bed, before she made to leave the room. It was only the approaching voices, down the hallway, that made her stop and silently shut the door.

Lord Heron and Lady Amanda.

That was odd. She was sure Septimus had escorted them into the mansion with some sort of injuries upon their person. Something about how things had gone wrong in returning to Arthur's burrow-house.

"…She'll lose her mind. She's as dark as they come."

"And we've known for years that there's something off about her," Lord Heron grumbled. "I don't care what it is, Amanda. If that's what the council agreed on, then that's what we have to do. It doesn't matter what we think."

"You're not disagreeing though," Lady Amanda said, haughtily. "You think they deserve it."

"I think he's grown weak," Lord Heron snapped. "Calling in for that mess of a Torvak—that pathetic feathered fool and his little dragon-mistress. Who knows what that woman did to those children? Turned one of them into one of those filthy beasts—and they let them leave! Just like that!"

Lady Amanda snorted. "That's not why we're here. You know why we're here. Now, I'll head to the basement and you—start it."

There was an answering grunt and a burst of fiery light that flared visibly in the gap between the bedroom door and the floor.

Cedrella, pressed against the wall, held her breath. Frozen and silent, as the confirmation she'd been waiting for, was so clearly laid out.

She swore, silently.

She'd been right after all.

So very right.

"Ceddy?" Septimus studied his wife, uneasily. He'd entered their bedroom to find her standing by the dark, dreary window, her posture stiff, her back to him. She hadn't even turned at his entrance. He'd felt a sharp yank on their shared connection, coupled with a sudden urge to seek her out. "Everything alright?"

"He's fading. He's not eating." Cedrella said, stiffly. She'd stopped, briefly, to see him-and to order Bilius and Felix to stay close. Her precious sons, thankfully, had done as requested.

Septimus sighed. Lately, everything had been about Arthur and he'd grown tired of it. "He's not fading," he said, calmly. "He's simply lovesick and-"

"He didn't eat more than two bites," Cedrella interrupted. She'd had to see Arthur before coming to Septimus. Had to know that she would be making the right choice now—after all this time. "I watched him. The entire day. He's not eating. His magic is fading and he looks as if he's in pain every single waking moment."

Septimus gave an awkward laugh. "Come now, that's hardly accurate, wife."

"He needs her."

"He doesn't. She wasn't any good for him anyway and-"

"That is what you believe or that is what you know?"

"Cedrella."

"I've been too complacent," she said, softly. "I knew I was doing it, but I thought that—I thought we had time. I wanted that time." Her head bowed. "We've run out of time, Septimus. It's run out a long time ago."

He cautiously shut the door, silently casting the privacy wards up in the room. He had a feeling he wouldn't like where this was headed—there was something almost ominous in the way she spoke. "What are you-?"

She turned away from the window, to reveal a small, red-eyed blackbird. Her expression was one of complete, utter sadness and magic had begun to fill the room.

"I gave you all the time I could, Septimus," she murmured. The window shut by itself, the raven vanishing in a flash of black feathers. "You know I told you I would."

He felt his mouth dry. His feet rooted to the floor. He'd known this day would come. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying the time is up," Cedrella held out a hand, a scrap of paper offered. "Read it, Septimus—and understand this—I will not let this be. I gave him up once, just as I did the others and now that they are all back, I will not give them up!"

He inched forward, gingerly easing the scrap of paper from her reluctant fingers. There was only a single imprint—a timestamp. An icy chill crept over him. "We're not alone," he ventured. "There's the—the children and Heron—we're not-!"

"You promised." Her voice cracked. Her eyes flashed, pitch-black. "You promised."

He shrank away from her, instinctively. There was something darker and stronger, raging inside, waiting to break free.

Still.

After all this time.

He swallowed. "I'm not breaking that. I'm not. I just—we have to think this through and-"

"You promised!"

"Ceddy!" He caught her as she listed forward, swaying into his arms. "Cedrella—please, love-!"

"She's close," Cedrella groaned, her voice taking on a higher pitch. Her body twitched and shuddered, before her eyes rolled back in her head. "And I owe her."

Magic strained at the corners of the room.

Septimus eased her to the floor, cradling her in his shaking arms. He'd known that day would come. Known in the way he'd agreed to everything after all. His eyes ached, burning with emotion that would never show. "You're right," he agreed. "You're right. I promised. We'll work this out. Somehow. What do you want me to do?"

"Home," she garbled, slowly coming back to herself. Her body shuddered, magic rippling through every limb. "We need to go home."

He bit his lip, then hugged her to his chest, pressing a kiss to her feathered hair. It was more feathers than hair at this point, a testament to how distraught she truly was. He felt the chill sink into his bones, his magic warring with the inherent nature of his being.

Fire and ice in the same body never went well, after all. He sat on the floor and held her, as her body writhed and creaked into a transformation long hidden.

Eventually, the magic took hold and he felt the dampeners activate. It was almost something of a relief, to feel the icy magic shrinking back where it belonged and the raging fires, calming to near nothing.

Yes.

This was better after all. He never should have tried to change her mind. He should have just gone with her. Never should have tried to force himself to be something he hadn't wanted.

She growled, faintly from his lap, pushing against his arms.

He released her, waiting-watching.

And the transformation came, feathers instead of scales, but a dragonesque body. A dragel in torvak clothing.

Her fangs gleamed white in the shadowed light of their small bedroom. She rolled her shoulders back, indoor wings shuddering into an even more compact form. Her clawed feet had shredded a good pair of house slippers, but they curled neatly under at the tips, not hindering her balance in the least.

She stood with slow, measured movements and then shook herself out, all over.

He saw the moment when the steel entered her eyes, the unmistakable aura of authority and the quiet determination that radiated out-the feminine presence both powerful and mezmeriszing-that he'd never been able to mistake.

Eyes morphed, the transformation complete-as they were now pitch black, a fine smattering of scales along the side of her face.

His breath caught in his throat, because unlike his kind and the standard upbringing he'd endured-she was still every bit of a goddess. Radiating a calm, ethereal presence, she merely stared.

Old feelings stirred up, rising to the surface and he found himself reaching up, fumbling with the buttons of his high-necked shirt. It took a moment to bare one glamoured shoulder.

When she arched one ridged brow, he smiled and tipped his head to the side. He would never fight her. Never fight this. Not this. It was far too precious. Sharp fangs pierced skin-directly over the hidden claim mark there. He felt the instant their bonds snapped into place and the answering call of magic within.

A/N: OH MY FREAKIN' WORD. This chapter has been a bear. Ya'll reading the chatterbox thread know what I'm talking about. (and on my tumblr. GAH. Spacing was a nightmare and I kept losing my scene headings. UGH.) Anyway, I think I've done it. um, the character snippet was not betaed by Brissy, bc I'm an absent-minded snugglefluff and completely forgot to write it until this weekend. so yes. That. Um...explanations?

I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! I had so much took take out and put into chapter 103, largely because two groups of characters are about to meet up and I needed to move them from their current space to another one. Whew. Sorry for all the scene jumping! On the other hand, I do have at least 3k words for chapter 103 so maybe it'll get written a bit faster? Yes? Maybe?

Clarification points-YES. Cedrella Black is a Dragel. I have wrestled with this point for a while and since it works out in the long run, she's a dragel. Also, it explains Regulus. A little bit. Kind of. Yes. Septimus knows. This is why things are getting screwy for them...and why he banished Arthur, rather than killing him, as is typically done for the Torvaks. Whew. Weighty stuff here. Ok. Thanks for reading! Thanks for always brightening my day with your support, fun comments and randomness. I love it and I wish you a fabulous week!

Many, many thanks to brissygirl who always does a fabulous job of beta-ing these monster chapters. She is an absolute darling!

Thanks for your support and kind reviews here on TBDH and my indie project, The Dragel's Song. I do actually have some work to do before the next installment on that as well. Welcome to the new readers. Thanks for reading!

REVIEW RESPONSES WILL BE POSTED as I have the time to spare-and I honestly haven't had the time for a while now. I'm truly very sorry for that, but I still treasure every review-thank you for your comments and encouragement!

STATE OF CHARACTERS:

Harry, Ethan, Theo, Charlie-(with each other, back at the guest room in the Peverell's traveling house)

Snape Circle (in a new apartment, courtesy of Terius)

Deveraine Circle members-(at the Hunt)

George (with Jun and the Evansons)