This chapter was betaed by the wonderful brissygirl to provide a smoother reading experience. All remaining mistakes are my own. See the first chapter for disclaimers/additional warnings/summaries.

2022 marks the 10th Anniversary of TBDH! Woohoo! I can hardly believe it. Thanks so much for your support and encouragement throughout the years, I could not have come this far without it. =^_^= Please enjoy this lovely chapter (I added a bit of fluff, just to celebrate!)

RECAP: Harry pulls Theo to his side via their soul bond, and Quinn and Theo wind up having a stare down in the bedroom, while the others gather outside. The Kalziks and the Hartwood worry for each other and their children, while Harry and Maury have a moment.

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Theo emerged from the bathroom towelling his hair and hiding a smile at the silent standoff taking place in front of him. He'd expected as much when he'd gone to calm himself in peace.

Leaving it to Charlie was the best option, as Ethan would likely realize what he was up to before he wanted to show his full hand. He was kind of glad that the Hartwoods had accompanied them back to the guesthouse, but there was also the very real possibility that he was making a terrible impression on his new in-laws.

Well, it wasn't really a silent standoff, given that Charlie was talking enthusiastically and dragon-Quinn was still growling and grumbling from his position on the bed where he was still wrapped around Harry.

Charlie could talk for hours about dragons, habitats and nutritional complexities on a level that set his head spinning. But it made him happy and Theo wouldn't change that for the world, even if he didn't quite understand the appeal.

Some of the magic of dragons dimmed a bit, when he was an actual dragon himself. Still, it was nice to see Charlie a little more comfortable in his own skin, happy and content in a way that was new to him.

There was still so much to learn about each other, he mused.

He also knew that Quinn was far too into his instincts to properly reason himself back to coherence if there was a very obvious distraction in front of him.

Maybe it was a bit underhanded, but he hadn't missed the way that Quinn was still responding to instinctive cues. Trying to keep his head higher than Theo's, growling at him and forgoing all use of any other kind of communication spell—not to mention the way his magic and aura had blanketed the room before Theo had first appeared.

It was too obvious to ignore and that was more of a challenge than he'd expected from the quiet healer.

A challenge he couldn't ignore.

Not that Quinn had any chance of winning, but still, it wasn't fair to drag it on that long.

He wasn't cruel, after all. Manipulative—eh, probably. It came with the rank and he was Slytherin, after all.

"Theo?" Charlie looked at him, expectant. His blue eyes brightened at once, even as his expression softened into something resembling fond affection. "Ethan said his folks are leaving for the night. I think Surajini offered for them to stay at the main house, but they said they'd rather head home. They might check in tomorrow around lunch time again, if we don't see them first."

"Not staying for dinner?" Theo asked. "It's not that late, is it?" He hadn't actually checked the time, but it felt as if the day had blurred by between introductions and every minor crisis that had come their way.

"Ethan said something about an awards ceremony?" Charlie shrugged. "I think they were supposed to be somewhere else and they postponed the initial pre-party or something to escort us here."

"Very generous of them. They didn't have to. We'll have to thank them," Theo said, mildly. He spelled the wet towel back to the bathroom drying rack and then crossed over to the bed.

He stopped a few feet away when Quinn automatically reared up on his front paws, glowering at him as best as a bed-sized dragon could, his small wings folded back flat against his sides.

Multi-coloured scales gleamed along his entire body in pretty splotches of colour ranging from a beautiful, bright yellow to a vivid, striking teal. Bits of green in various shades were mixed between the two and a hint of something that was almost purple, but hard to make out, given Quinn's rigid posture. His tail, a bit thin, whipped sharply from one side to the other.

He was very much on guard and not at all happy at Theo's approach, evidenced by a tiny, hint of a growl burring in his throat.

Theo turned a snort into a cough, which he hid in the crook of his elbow. Golden eyes fluxed deep brown, then straight back to bright yellow—instincts rearing to the surface and soothed away by sheer logic and willpower.

A faint crackling sound seemed to come from the corners of the room, a heaviness settling in the air as Theo's earthen element made itself known.

"Theo?" Charlie prompted, gently. He didn't mind the shift in energies, but he did want to know if there was something else happening in front of him that he couldn't figure out on his own.

"It's fine," Theo said.

Charlie perked a brow in question, but waited. There was definitely something happening here and he could tell from the way that Quinn was so agitated.

"Stop that. You do know that Harry is bonded to me," Theo said, lightly. "Please keep that in mind. I can't pretend to know what's running through your head. That's your own business. And I don't mind you keeping watch over him. That's—admirable. Especially considering how much you've helped us, but if you must start growling, I should warn you that I do not appreciate being challenged on things where there is no challenge at all."

Charlie glanced between them, interestedly. His blue eyes shimmered with barely concealed mirth, tanned shoulders relaxing as if he'd just figured something out on his own and decided to keep the secret.

Still bristling, paws out, claws digging into the blankets, Quinn's eyes narrowed to slits. The little growl grew a bit louder and more noticeable.

"You're just going to be stubborn about this, aren't you?" Theo murmured, half to himself. He fought the urge to place his hands on his hips, even as disapproval radiated outwardly from him.

"What part of that is stubborn?" Charlie stood, peering over his shoulder. "I feel like I'm missing something here?"

"Just stating the obvious," Theo said, mildly. "You aren't missing anything that needs to be remembered. I think that some choices are easier and clearer than others, but if someone chooses to take the harder option, that's their—choice. Right?"

"Right," Charlie said, slowly. "Do you want to elaborate on that?"

"Not really. It's nothing, my dragon heart," Theo said, simply.

It wasn't anything to worry Charlie about, but if he wanted an explanation later, Theo would be more than happy to offer it. After all, instincts and ranked dynamics were still new and somewhat unknown.

He'd been lucky to spend a few years with the Deveraines before things had grown sour. Lucky enough to see all different kinds of Circles and Alphas, up close in their daily interactions.

It had taught him to listen and always keep his wits about him. It had also taught him exactly what kind of Alpha he wanted to be.

Right now, he had the chance the demonstrate that.

Even if it would look a little odd to anyone else on the outside.

Theo turned, as if to kiss Charlie's cheek, then paused. With the sheer depth of emotion writhing beneath his skin, it took more restraint to keep his hands to himself and his magic tempered, with Quinn in the room.

It was best not to tempt fate by reaching out for a connection that would definitely be explosive.

If he let anything slip over through Charlie's bond—that would be it.

He wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of him and he was sure that Charlie wouldn't complain, given the sudden flare of interest in his bright blue eyes and the shift in temperature in the room.

At least he knew they were somewhat in sync.

Slowly, he reached out, skimming a hand from Charlie's arm, up to his shoulder, tapping his fingers along that tanned neck—right over that claim mark—and up to cup his cheek.

So warm. So strong. So—calm.

Really, Charlie had to be the calmest Fire elemental he'd ever known and Ergen's blessings, he was grateful for it. A steady, bolstering flame that kept his Earth from shattering them into cracked, rigid pieces from the outside pressures.

A flicker of movement—teal and gold—froze him in mid-motion. Theo's gaze narrowed, faintly. His hand was still halfway stuck to Charlie's face, fingers splayed along his cheek and ear, fingertips grazing where fiery red hair could almost be fiery red flames. Personally, he didn't care too much for obvious displays of affection—privacy existed, after all—and giving into his instincts now would make it difficult to stop himself from lashing out at Quinn, if he happened to tug too hard on any specific instinctive inclination.

Great.

Theo fought the urge to let his hand fall back to his side. A growl of his own was starting to build in his chest and it wanted out.

Quinn bristled all over, his continuous growl taking on a different sort of edge.

Odd.

He hadn't thought it was that pointed of a comment, but apparently, he'd struck a nerve somewhere. Or something else had.

Wonderful.

"If you say so," Charlie said, allowing himself to be amused by the clear byplay between wizard and dragon. He leaned in to close the gap between them, unphased by Theo's cool fingers pressed to his face. Instead, he leaned into the touch, allowing himself to bask in it, before he straightened up and left with a slight wave of his hand to Quinn.

Theo watched him leave and then studied Quinn, this time his gaze more contemplative than before. The absence of his warmth was already making him grumpy. He really did need to spend more time with his new Bonded—just relaxing and enjoying each other. This much stress was going to turn him grey at an early age.

Now, he couldn't ignore the obvious irritation from Quinn.

"You're upset about something," he said, slowly. "And you don't want to deal with it now, but you'll have to. You think it's—bad?" His gaze narrowed. There were different reactions that didn't match up with his original gamble with the takeout containers and Charlie's presence.

It'd worked.

And it'd also pulled a few new things that he hadn't anticipated.

Like now.

Quinn ignored him, snout pointed decidedly in the air, deliberately ignoring him—without letting Theo out of his line of sight.

Yes. Definitely interesting. Slowly—oh so slowly—the defensiveness eased out of him, replaced by a sharpened curiosity. His Slytherin mind whirled away a thousand clicks per second, as he took in Quinn's guarding position beside Harry and the way that his tail was still lashing back and forth as if he wanted to simply leap from the bed and launch himself at Theo.

Attack? No. Pounce? Maybe. Frustrated? Oh, most definitely!

"Quinn?" He tried again.

He didn't think it was possible for that snout to go any higher, but, apparently—it was.

Theo hid a smirk behind his hand, unwillingly amused at the situation in front of him.

Oh, if only Harry was awake now. He'd certainly be torn between amusement and—well, Theo wasn't sure what exactly that emotion was that seemed to hang just around the corners of his mind, but he was sure that Harry would know. It was a tad disconcerting to have a bit of that empathic feedback shared through their bonds.

Even now, he wasn't sure if it was Harry filtering their conversations or interactions or if Quinn's presence was simply amplifying something else somehow. His Earth energy was definitely quite calming, overall. A steady, direct sort of magic that didn't leech anything from him, in order to heal.

But Quinn had always had a presence.

One that was absolutely unmistakable now. Something darker lurking beneath the surface, as if he would defend with life, if necessary.

And it definitely wasn't necessary.

He was a Healer.

A Healer that was clearly suffering from some sort of self-inflicted misery.

"…I see. Well. Let me make this easy for you—and easy on both of us. Harry likes you. A lot. Ethan and Charlie seem to think that you're wonderful. I don't know what exactly your parents or Ethan's have told them about this whole thing, but I do know that I'm not very happy with you right now."

Quinn's head whipped around to stare. Teal eyes blinked up at him.

Ha. So that had caught his attention.

"You, out of everyone, know what Harry's going through. You understand the difference a single Bonded could make. Yet, you chose to suppress that. Hide it away. Pretend that it didn't even exist. Even though you could've just outright refused it and severed the connection instead of torturing yourself and by extension, causing some measure of distress to Harry-"

Quinn tossed his head, fiery letters appearing overhead in disjointed words. Don't you dare accuse me of hurting him! Refusing a connection isn't an easy thing! It would've hurt him far more than you could possibly ever imagine and not just because of his empathy-!

"And ignoring the possibility of what you could have, of giving him some closure and-"

Closure? Really? That's where you're going with this? What about my closure? What about my future? This affects me too! It isn't some one-sided little crush! This is my life, my choice—my right.

"I'm not saying otherwise," Theo said, quietly. "But it's also Harry's life, Harry's choice and Harry's right as well, to have a say in that. What I am saying is that if you meant to keep this as a secret, then you would've put more effort behind it. You wouldn't have ever put yourself in a position where things would've gotten worse—would you?"

Shiny colourful scales gleamed in the soft light of the bedroom. The night-time ambiance lending a different air to the moment.

Quinn shifted restlessly, paws kneading into the blankets as if he couldn't help the reflexive action.

I didn't plan for this to happen!

Theo simply waited.

He couldn't—and wouldn't—put words in anyone's mouth. Not for something like this. Quinn was right. They both had a choice and future ahead of them that would be affected no matter what they chose.

Still, it would be best if they could make that choice together.

It didn't escape his notice that Quinn has denied it being a one-sided crush.

Nice.

Maybe he hadn't meant to say it outright that way, but Theo had long learned to read between the lines of what was said in the heat of the moment and what was dragged out bit by bit.

This seemed like a little bit of both.

I didn't-! Quinn repeated, his expression shifting again. Please, you have to believe me that I would not have initiated any kind of-

"But you haven't been subtle either," Theo said, quietly. "Whether you meant to or not, Quinn—you've helped him. You've helped us. More than anyone would've expected. You've been there from the moment we stepped into that Clinic. You were exhausted—at the end of the day, at the end of your own limits—and yet, you pushed through it. Pushed past it. I can see now that you wouldn't have done that for anyone else, would you? That's when you were sure, wasn't it? You picked up on something and when it was confirmed, you just—what, ignored it?"

Quinn tossed his snout side to side as if he could shake the moment into something more his liking. No, no, no! You can't—it's not that simple. You're not—you don't understand! It's not like that!

"It's not like what? Tell me, what am I missing here? Because something's missing and I'd like to think that you're more of a man than this, Quinn Kalzik. You even showed up now, volunteering for him when we came out of the Hound's territory. What am I supposed to read into that? Tell me, because right now—you've activated something and Harry isn't in a position to consent or refuse and if this doesn't mean anything to you-"

I would never force a connection-! Quinn sat up in a hurry and the shift was instantaneous. He went from dragon-self to two-legged humanesque form in the space of a heartbeat.

Teal eyes flashed with meaning. His breath came in short, huffed pants, scaled ridges sharpening his face into more dragon than man.

It means the world to me that he saw something in me that he thought was worthy enough of sharing his own soul. I know what it takes to form that kind of a bond. Do not think for a minute, that I am blind to what this is!

"I do not think you are blind to it," Theo said, carefully. "But I do think you have closed yourself off to what it could be. Harry sees the good in people. He always has. Arielle knows he doesn't have to, given all that he's been through, but somehow, he still does. He sees and he cares. I couldn't hope to see with eyes like his in a thousand years, but when he sees something, I can't help but look a second time."

He is—a bright soul. I will admit to that. It shines, despite everything. That kind of light deserves to shine as bright as it can. I would never take advantage of him and I would never play with anything like this! It's serious. It's as serious as a-!

"I didn't say that you would, but I did mean to infer that playing with his heart is just as bad," Theo said, darkly. "He's an Empath. Lights and souls aside, he feels things. I feel things because he feels things. So, answer me this—how do you think he feels now? Because you've been beside him long enough for those emotions to fill this entire room and it's practically choking me."

Quinn's hands clenched at his sides. A fine tremor ran through him as if it took every ounce of his strength and dignity to stay where he was, unmoving. As if the slightest hair-trigger would set him off.

I don't know. I-I don't know, alright? I'm not a good match for you. Not for your Circle and not for him. You don't know anything about me or what would come with accepting any kind of suit from any of you. Please, just stop trying to push me into some kind of-

"Why would you think you're not a good match?" Theo asked, plainly. "Because I don't see anything with the potential to turn sour. In fact, you seem like a much better match than any of our other prospects at the moment. Harry likes you, for one. I think I'd know if he didn't." He held up a hand. "And if you dare think to say that I don't like you or we won't get along or something equally shallow, don't expect to be sitting on that bed for much longer."

And what's that supposed to mean? You aren't listening to-

"I'm listening. But what you're saying and what I'm hearing are two very different things, Quinn. Take it however you wish. I won't have you staying here and filling this room with emotions and magic that could affect him while he's in-"

It's a healing trance and it's a one of the best ones there is. Maia Kadel doesn't do anything by halves. He's fine. He'll be fine. He'll come out of this stronger than you can imagine. A trance this good, could even crack some of those seals on him. He's stronger than you give him credit for!

"I give him plenty of credit," Theo said, evenly. "And I trust that while he has his limits, he doesn't always know what they are. You don't know everything that he's been through. You don't know what's made him into who he is today and-"

And you don't know what he's been dealing with because of it! You're seeing the outside and judging things by whatever he chooses to tell you, but you haven't seen the whole picture either! You don't know any more than I do about-!

Quinn's face twisted, his dragon-self fighting to be out, forcing his features to sharpen, a slightly feral gleam sparking in his teal eyes. His clawed hands curled into his arms, to keep from accidentally scratching at his face.

"And you do?"

I know that he deserves so much better than me!

The temperature in the room, dipped sharply.

A heaving, choked gasp came from the bed and Harry's body twisted sharply, before a thin, filmy vision of a man slowly came into full semi-transparent view. The figure sat upright, detached from Harry's physical body, though significantly larger in build.

Theo's heart clenched tightly.

A Casper. A familiar Casper. A familiar face that had just come from Harry-! The instinctive unease that had sparked at the unexpected shock was immediately soothed by a gentle pulse from Harry's bond.

Even in a healing trance, he was still looking out for Theo.

"Maurice-?" He ventured, uncertainly.

The Casper glared at both of them.

"What do you two think you are doing? You need to stop that right now! Haven't you any manners? These sorts of conversations are not meant to be had while one half of the important party is unable to contribute!" The man—Maurice—scolded, sharply. "You're upsetting him whether you mean to or not. Just because he's in a trance, doesn't mean he can't hear or feel either of you. This room is filled to the brim with unhelpful energy and he deserves better than to listen to you sniping at each other while he can't say a single word to express himself!"

Quinn flinched back, more scales appearing and disappearing along the sides of his face. He skittered back a few paces from the bed, wariness lining every inch of his taut body.

A very quiet, very small sigh, came from Theo. He reached up to rub at his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. His expressions shifted to something of complete exhaustion.

"I don't believe this, but I am not in the mood-" he began.

"I don't care if you're in the mood!" Maurice snapped. His semi-transparent form solidified even further, glowing a bright white in the room. "You're upsetting him and-"

"-and I'm not about to be lectured by a Casper," Theo said, sharply. "If you're out here to deliver a message, then maybe deliver the message or try saying something useful?"

Quinn gave several distressed clicks, before he edged a little further away from Theo.

"What?" Theo growled. "Just in case you two are missing the point here, I can still feel Harry and right now, I don't like what I'm feeling!"

Maurice huffed. "Then how about you actually step forward and talk to him? He is listening you know. That goes for both of you."

In all honesty, perhaps Theo should've done this first.

Maurice had a good point and when he'd offered to stay out of the way beside Quinn, Theo figured that was the best offer he would get while the rest of his Bonded took up guarding positions around the bedroom door and the bed.

It was pointless to try and dissuade them and if he was being honest, it was nice to know they were looking out for him. Charlie had come straight away and Ethan hadn't been far behind.

He settled on the armchair facing Harry's side of the bed and closed his eyes, forcing his body to relax in deliberate motions. Meditation was something he tried to do regularly, but did not quite always manage to keep up as consistently as he'd hoped.

Ilsa had drilled it into him, that the better control he had of himself, the better his control of his element. Naturally, that had been the best incentive to get him to react positively.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax, relax, relax. Ah. That did it.

Theo drifted easily into his mind, reaching out with his magic to call on the three Caspers that resided within. They'd perked up at Maurice's appearance, clamouring quietly for his attention as they'd recognized a fellow Casper.

He was glad he'd been able to hold onto them, even after Harry's use of his password.

Slowly, his mind cleared, a deep relaxation settling over him as if he'd drawn up a hazy curtain of comfort and solitude, despite the fact that he had an audience in the room with him.

Alomath. Sukey. Makindor. Alomath, I call to you. Sukey, I call to you. Makindor, I call to you. Answer my summons, listen to my plea.

He shivered as their magic reached back to him answering with strength and vigour. It took a moment to silence their initial worries and then to explain the current situation.

They were curious enough to hear him out.

He wanted to reach out to Harry, in his mindscape, if at possible in his healing trance. Yes, he wanted Harry healed as soon as possible. No, he wasn't trying to cut the healing short. Yes, he was worried for Harry's sake.

Eventually, it was Alomath that agreed to begin a bridge between the minds. He grumbled about the difficulty of it, given that neither Harry nor Theo possessed any particularly remarkable signs of any kind of mental magics, but promised that he would do his best to serve as the bridge in that particular absence.

Sukey was happy to serve as a guide through the mindscape and Makindor grumpily agreed to stand guard on the in-between planes, so they could converse without fear of interruption or corruption by any other entities.

It was more than he'd hoped for and Theo was grateful for their help. He said as much, pleased to find the sentiment returned as the Caspers went to work.

Makindor settled over him like an avenging spirit, his touch ghostly and impersonal, but intimidating nonetheless. Theo knew he was visible in all planes by the way that Charlie visibly started, with Ethan not far behind.

Quinn remained pale and silent at the foot of the bed, his hands curled atop his knees. He had reluctantly withdrawn at Theo's proposal and Maurice's interference.

Alomath greeted Maurice, a dignified nod and acknowledgment between two solemn men who had done their sworn duties. He passed through the physical plane and straight into Harry's mindscape without a single hitch.

HARRY'S MINDSCAPE / THEO & HARRY

Theo opened his eyes to find himself in a strange, formless void of pure white with shadows at the far ends. Sound seemed muffled, the lack of scent a bit jarring, but he could almost taste the cool crispness reminiscent of mountain air and figured that was enough to ground him for the time being.

"Theo?" Harry's voice was hopeful, but tenuous as if he didn't dare believe that Theo could actually be there with him.

"Harry!" He turned in time to get a full armful of trembling, relieved Harry, clinging to him with all his might.

It soothed an instinctive urge he hadn't quite buried deep enough to know that Harry was right there with him—and alright enough to seek comfort immediately through a hug.

"Harry," he said again, voice pitched lower. "My treasure."

There was a slight sniffle, before Harry straightened up, still holding on tight as if Theo would vanish if he dared to release him. His hands splayed out along Theo's sides.

"Theo," he said, leaning into him. "Why were you arguing and what—how did you get here? Oret said that he would-"

"Oret?" Theo teased.

Harry huffed, face pinking. "You're always talking about Ilsa," he said. "Yes! My Oret. We've been talking since that moment with the spell—he's good and kind and—I miss him, Theo. I barely know him and I miss him so much. I wish he was still alive—I wish that we'd had more time. It isn't fair! Why did I have to meet him only to know that I just missed him? By what—hours? Days?"

And Theo simply held him, gently petting a hand through those soft, fluffy locks and allowing the moment to pass through between them.

"I'm sorry," he said, softly. "I'm so sorry, my treasure."

"It's not fair," Harry repeated, burying his face in Theo's shoulder, eyes aching at the thought of all the tears that could be shed for what would never be. "He wanted me. He wanted—this. Us. A mentor-and-student relationship and he's so—he reminds me of-" He faltered.

"Home?" Theo suggested.

"…yes. Was that what it was like to meet Ilsa?"

Theo hummed. He tipped his head to the side, cheek resting atop Harry's fluffy hair. "One day, I'll tell you the whole story when you ask," he said. "One day when we're not in someone else's house, on borrowed time, dealing with one crisis after another."

"Oh, is that all it is? I thought I was just in a healing trance," Harry said, at last. His eyes danced with mirth.

"Just in a healing trance? Oh, Harry." Theo nearly laughed, fondness pouring out of him and filling their bond much faster than their usual connection.

Harry stiffened, then went boneless a beat later when the full breadth of the emotional overload reached him. "Theo," he groaned. "You should—that was—warn me?"

Another shiver ran through him, emotions and feelings overlapping without the slightest bit of hesitation.

"Sure," Theo said, agreeably, in a way that said he absolutely would not.

But Harry couldn't mind it at all. Just to feel how much he was wanted and adored was such a new, novel feeling, he couldn't just brush it aside, even if the timing really did suck.

"Oret said that he'd talk to you, but I'm not sure how all of this works. I feel like I've been stuck in here for weeks."

"Stuck?" Theo straightened up, catching his eye. "I'm pretty sure we're in your mindscape, because I'd know if we were in mine."

"Ah. It's still kind of—confusing. But interesting." Harry pressed a little closer. "You're not as warm as I thought you'd be though. Is that because of the mindscape?"

Theo hummed. "Something like that. Right now, your physical body is healing and your magic is helping with that. It means your mind is free to roam because you weren't gravely injured."

"Is that how it works?"

Theo shrugged, minutely. "I'm not the one who memorizes magical theory. Ithycar knows a lot about it though. You can start him on the subject if you ever want to know more. He talks for hours and hours. Sometimes it's interesting. The rest of it's boring."

Harry stifled a laugh. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be resting or out hunting?"

"Without you?" Theo sniffed. "Never. What's the point?"

"Theo!"

"Harry."

"Can't you hunt without me?"

"…you have far too much faith in my personal tastes and preferences," Theo said, delicately. "And I refuse to elaborate on that right now. Let's just say that I'd prefer to hunt with you and that your tastes line up fairly close or exactly like mine."

Harry squinted at him. "I can still feel you," he said, warningly. "So, if you don't want me to start guessing things, talk!"

"…about why I'm here? Or about my—alright, alright! It's Quinn. Stop that—I was trying to figure out how to break it to you gently, instead of blurting it out because I couldn't-"

"Wait—was that him?" Harry stared up at him, eyes alight with a feverish hope. "That was really him, wasn't it? I thought I was kind of dreaming all of that. You know, because it's in my head and everything? I thought it was—my imagination. It seemed so real. He was right there."

"You saw him?" Theo squeezed him tight. "Can I—ask what happened?"

Harry bit his lip. "Everything went sideways. I was talking with Oret one minute and everything was fine. Then the mindscape kind of deteriorated around itself and there was nothing that I could match it with and then Oret disappeared and I, well, I guess I panicked-"

Running his hand slowly up and down Harry's side, Theo leaned into him, chin digging into the top of Harry's head. "And then?"

"And then I saw him. Quinn. I thought he was a dream, Theo. I really thought he was a dream, because I'd never seen him like that before and I-I wished he was mine," Harry whispered. "I wished he was mine and I—I think I made him cry. I didn't mean to."

Theo let out a slow breath. "You are far kinder than I am," he said, quietly. "And maybe someday that will rub off on me. We can hope for it, I guess."

"…did something happen to him?"

"I would like to answer that, but I also don't want to cause you any unnecessary distress," Theo said, slowly. "So—would you let me tell it to you, my way, but not-"

"Not take it personally?" Harry couldn't keep the wryness from his voice. "Kind of hard not to take some of this personally, I mean, I trust you. I trust that you wouldn't twist or manipulate what's happened—not to me."

Theo's gaze softened considerably. "Yes. That is true." He squeezed Harry to him, shoulders rising as he gathered himself together, words brimming at his lips.

"Just tell me," Harry said, quietly. "Tell me and let me—think about it?"

"I can do that."

"That's all I need."

"Quinn has—had—I'm not sure the status of it, but as of now, he had a soulbond connection to you. He suppressed it. Unfortunately, when he came to check in on you earlier, it activated. Surajini thinks it was the close proximity, the Hartwoods think you formed an emotional connection. Ethan is currently not sharing what he thinks about that, because he knows I'm very irritated by the entire situation."

Harry was silent for a moment, as if digesting all of that. He sighed, tapping his free hand along Theo's shoulder, then gently pulling away to study Theo's face.

"You are irritated by it," he observed, calmly. "Why? Quinn's—nice. I mean, a healer would be good for our Circle, right? We all know him. We know that he's—passionate about healing. He's also been through a lot. He understands where we're—where I'm coming from."

Theo sighed.

Emerald eyes glowed faintly, as Harry held onto Theo's arms, brow furrowed. "You're not—upset about that," he said, slowly. "It's something else, isn't it? I can almost feel it, but I can't—it's hard. Everything here is muted all the time and I can't pick out the—what is it, Theo?"

"He lied," Theo said, stiffly. "He didn't—he made this huge fuss about the seals and encouraged you to go and hunt and then he—he-"

"Oh," Harry said, softly. "Maybe he has a good reason for it? Did you hear him out?"

"I don't want to."

"Theo."

"I don't! If he could hide something like that, then what else could he be-"

"He's a healer," Harry said, calmly. "And I doubt he's hiding more skeletons in his closet. Everyone makes mistakes, Theo. That was just—one of them. Maybe he thought we wouldn't like him. I l-like him."

Theo's golden eyes narrowed. "Do you?"

"I do. He's—kind. Maybe he doesn't always do the right thing, but he tries. I know I've done the same. I might not mean to do the wrong thing, but I don't do it deliberately? I feel that his heart is in the right place and even if he doesn't have a really good reason for this, I think I'd still want to give him a chance."

Theo huffed. "But why? Trust is important, Harry. Not just because these are lifelong bonds we're attempting to make, but there's a lot at stake and-"

"But I gave you a chance," Harry said, quietly. "I didn't know you as anything other than a Slytherin, Theo."

"It's not the same thing," Theo said, brow creased. "Harry, it's not."

"Really?"

"I liked you a long time before that."

Harry blinked. Stared. Blinked a few more times. His mouth opened and shut, before he let himself tip forward, faceplanting straight into Theo's chest.

"Theo!" he groaned. "You can't just say that like that!"

Another wave of powerful emotion rolled through him, swamping their shared bond and leaving him shaking, faintly with the aftershocks. That was far more emotion than he'd expected to sense between them in a mindscape that was already muted and tangled.

But the words had done something that hadn't quite settled entirely on its own. It was a deep reassurance that settled inside of him, all warm and comfortable as if it were one of the laws of the universe.

That magic existed. Life and Death were a thing. And Theodore Gorgens-Nott, liked him. Liked him to the point of loving him, to the point where they were bonded soulmates and—ah. He was doing it too.

Harry tried to tamp down the sudden rush of giddiness.

"Shh," Harry murmured. He released Theo's arms, standing on tip toe to reach up and smooth his hands over Theo's face. "You are so good to me, you know that, right? You take on so much worry for all of us, don't you? So much feeling because of me. I feel that, sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. I know your heart is in the right place. I know you mean well."

Theo pressed his lips together, his eyes darkening faintly.

"I know that sometimes, you don't always see the good things that happen. You weren't—given the easiest path to walk, but look at you now. Look at us now, Theo. Where we are, what we have—each other, right?"

Theo nodded, slowly, carefully, as if he didn't want to disturb Harry's hands caressing his face. His eyes, wide and dark, were carefully trained on Harry's face, as he soaked up every word.

A shuddery breath left him as Harry struggled to find words to express the wealth of feeling burning in his chest. Maury had warned him that empathy had many different side effects.

Many different ways to express itself.

It seemed, there were even more things to learn about himself now, than there ever were before.

He found a soft smile as Theo's head tipped to the side, his cheek pressing into Harry's palm.

"I know it's hard, but you can't just judge everyone on one mistake. You could, but it might mean missing out on a friend, a new ally and maybe even a new bonded."

"…I don't want you to be right."

Harry's lips twitched. "I know. I can feel that too."

"Why? Please, give me something to work with. Because right now, the Alpha inside of me is screaming that I can't let him hurt you. I don't want him to hurt you, Harry."

"You can't protect me from everything, Theo."

"…is it wrong of me to want to try?"

"Oh no. No, it's not. It's part of who you are—and I—love that part of you," Harry said, proud that he was able to speak his feelings so easily.

"Really?"

"Yes. If it bothered me, I would say something. I trust you would listen to me and hear what I mean."

Theo nodded, fervently.

"You can't protect me from everything, but you can be there for me through all of it. Every single heartache, heartbreak, cut, scrape, clash and-" Harry sucked in a breath as Theo leaned in.

He closed his eyes to the soft, feathery breaths that ghosted across his face. The tantalizing buzz and crackle of familiar magic, so close that it could meld right into him.

A happy flutter made his chest grow warm and gooey in the centre.

He took one breath and then another. It felt like the mindscape had slowed time to a mere crawl, just for them.

"…Theo?"

"Harry," came the answer, at once. As if his name was everything and all the things that Theo would ever need or want.

Oh.

Oh, the things that did to his soul.

Harry slid his hands up further, curling his hands through Theo's soft, wavy hair, marvelling at the tingles that rushed through his fingertips and raced through his body.

Revelling in the way their magic reached out and twined around each other, seeking and renewing a connection that would only grow stronger with time.

It was all there. Everything he needed to know. Everything he wanted.

The answer was right there.

A simple answer.

His hands fell to Theo's shoulders, gripping them tightly.

"Can you trust him for me? Because it feels right?" Harry turned them in a slow circle almost as if they were waltzing. "Because I feel something within him, that reminds me of you? That when I'm there, when I'm actually thinking about it—that there's something about him that makes me feel like I've come home. That I'm safe with him, near him, by him. He just—feels right."

Theo huffed out a little laugh. "And what am I supposed to say to that?"

"Nothing, I expect," Harry said, amused. "Would you let me try this?"

And he waited, watching.

Watching as Theo's emotions played across his face, his expression open and vulnerable in a way it usually wasn't. The arch of his brow, the tiny nibble on his lip, the flick of his deep brown eyes.

Saw the uncertainty, the fear, the worry and then, a calm acceptance.

A deliberate choice to trust.

To trust him.

It was beautiful and it made his soul sing.

"Yes," he said, simply. "You don't have to ask-"

"Yes, I do," Harry said, easily. "You're upset and you do have a good reason to be. I know it's because you care and you don't want to see me get hurt—and also because he hid something that is extremely private, as far as I understand soulbonds and things. But are you really upset that he hid it or that he hid it from me?"

Theo twitched.

"Oh, Theo." Harry surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around Theo's waist. "You feel more than me sometimes."

"I don't-" Theo said, hoarsely. "I really don't-"

"You do. It's not a weakness to feel. You've told me that before."

"…so, you don't want me to yell at him?"

Harry stifled a laugh. "I would prefer no yelling, no biting, no making him cry or—wait, you have to bite him, don't you?"

There was a sigh of long-suffering. "Yes, Harry. I do have to bite him. He'll heal over just fine and that's only if he accepts and consents to bonding into our Circle. It's to forge a claim."

"Isn't there any other way?"

Theo perked a brow.

"Healer. Healer's blood, remember?" Harry asked. "He wouldn't be able to reciprocate."

Theo stared at him. Gradually, the understanding seemed to dawn.

"…that would make sense," he said, wearily. "Fine. There's other ways, but they're a little trickier. A bite's usually the easiest, but I'll do something different, if he accepts and if we're what he wants. I'm not insisting on this if he isn't agreeable, Harry."

"I wouldn't want you to, if he didn't want to."

"Alright then."

"No biting?"

"…no biting unless he asks otherwise," Theo amended. "Anything else?"

"Fair enough," Harry said, satisfied. "Wait—so what's happening right now? I'm just—asleep?"

Theo made a soft sound in his throat. "Right now, Quinn's sitting about three feet away from you on the bed, looking as if I'm going to tear his head off because he exists. Charlie's guarding the door, because he's worried we'll get interrupted and he has questions that he is very politely not asking out loud yet, because he's worried. Ethan's guarding the bed and making sure I don't fall over, just in case this turns into something else."

"Why would it turn into something else? Theo. Theo! Why would you fall over?"

"Focus, Harry. We're talking in your mind. I'm using my Caspers. All three of them. I'm sitting in the chair across from the bed. It's not the most comfortable chair, but I'm managing. It's also a little jarring to be using Kalzik casting grounds to anchor my spellwork. It's a lot—heavier than what I'm used to."

"…but you're an Earth element. Can't you—isn't there something? A rune? Ethan did something to the room that one time."

"Deveraines," Theo said, lightly. "It's the Air. I'm used to everything feeling lighter and moving a little faster."

"Oh. Oh!" Harry straightened up. "This is—a lot to take in. I don't mean for this to—every time I close my eyes, something else happens."

Theo's lips twitched. "Every time I turn around, something else happens."

They shared a laugh, renewed warmth and affection growing between them. A soul-strong bond that was growing and stretching with them, flexible as they figured their way around a future that was still yet to come.

Harry nibbled on his lip for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. He really did wish he could properly touch Theo right now, than just what they'd managed so far.

He wanted a proper hug and a proper moment. Just having something to do with his hands would be grounding and helpful. His empathy, thankfully, was just a little bit muted at the moment. If he was feeling all of Theo's feelings on top of everything else—and Quinn's—he wasn't sure how good of a decision he'd be able to make.

"My treasure…?" Theo drawled, in that special way of his.

Harry flushed, attention snapping to him at once. "I'm thinking," he said, a bit softly.

"Want to share?"

"It's not the—I mean, it's just an idea."

"I'll listen."

"…you always do and I—I probably don't tell you enough how much I appreciate that."

Theo blinked. Golden eyes fluxed straight to pitch black, before the Brindus bonds flared on his astral body, showing thick lines of golden energy interwoven across his person.

"Harry—Harry, you can't just say that-!"

He sniggered. "I can't?"

"Without warning!" Theo said, a hand pressed over his mouth, the tips of his ears turning red, though a definite burst of happiness rocketed through their bond.

Oh.

Oh.

Harry quite nearly smiled. Instead, he did his best to hold onto the critical thread of possible ideas floating through his head. Theo was the one on the outside, awake and able to make things happen.

So, it stood to reason that any ideas he figured up, would be properly handled—if he could just get Theo to at least listen to them.

And he would, too.

Because that hadn't been a lie. Theo always tried his best to listen, even when it definitely was hard. Especially when Harry had known so little starting out and still felt as if he hadn't learned much of anything at all.

But that wasn't entirely true.

He'd learned.

He was still learning!

And he had Maury to help him, the entire Deveraine Circle—more or less—and the entire Kalzik Circle, with little nods to Lewis, Prince Raspen and even the Merrow King Alcandor.

So many different people who had reached out to him and tried to help, even if they didn't know exactly how to help him in the way he needed.

They'd tried.

That was so much more than anything Dumbledore had ever done for him—and it brought a hefty chunk of old thoughts and memories floating to the surface. Maury had helped him so much already and he wanted—no, he yearned to bask in the remaining time they had left. To just soak up all the affection and instruction without any hesitation.

Even now, he could still feel Maury's presence resting over him, despite the fact that he'd felt him shift out of his mindscape to communicate with Theo. A protective aura that blanketed his shoulders and calmed his soul.

He really wished that he would've lived. So that he could've had one of those bone-creaking hugs in person.

Sometimes, it really didn't feel fair how awful his luck ran.

"—ry, Harry?"

His smile stayed, though a bit sad. "Still here. Just thinking about something. Theo, do I have to stay in the healing trance all of the days? I mean, can't you all just accelerate the healing like you've done with my resting period and aligning with the realm and all of that? Is there some kind of rule that says we can't or am I missing something else?"

Golden eyes glimmered down at Harry for a long moment. Theo's head tipped to the side.

"I don't know. Maybe? I could ask Oretta," he said, slowly. "Aracle might be able to help, but I don't know what else it'll affect or how it'll even come to be something that can be done without some kind of side-effect. Playing with time-"

"Has a terrible price. I know. Believe me—I definitely know." Harry took a shuddery breath, staring down at his open hands, wiggling each finger in turn.

He could almost feel the chain of the time-turner as Hermione had draped it around his neck. Could practically taste the dizziness on the tip of his tongue from the disorienting shift from beside Ron's bed to being flung back in time.

It'd been a necessary thing. They had saved people.

Well, one person. Sirius. And that hadn't gone over all that well, had it? But there was still Buckbeak.

There was still—Harry slowly relaxed, shoulders dropping, flickers of clarity streaking through his brain.

"Theo—would you ask? For me?"

"Who?"

"If—if Ilsa and Aracle can't help. I mean, they have a lot happening, right?"

Theo shrugged. "Clan war's irrelevant at this point. I mean, we both know they'll win. It's just a matter of how bloody it'll be."

"We do? I mean, we do." Harry nodded, quickly.

Theo's lips twitched. "We do. I do."

"But it's serious, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's definitely serious. There's plenty at stake, but Ithycar and Delani? They're sharp. Wicked smart. They would never allow this, if they didn't have something else up their claws."

Slowly, Harry nodded again. "I guess that makes sense," he said. "Alright, what about the Kalziks? Can't they break it? Or the Kadels? I mean, they pretty much put me in this trance, right? They could take me out of it."

"Maybe." Theo leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, his expression pensive. "I don't know that I would like what they would have to do to get you out of it. The Kadels aren't—they deal with prophecies, Harry. Realm-shifting. Phasing. They might wake you up, but it could be-"

"Different?" Harry offered a wry smile. "I just—don't think I could lie here and do nothing."

"You aren't doing nothing. You're resting. Recovering. There's healing happening on a cellular level or something."

Harry spluttered a laugh. "A cellular level, really?" He shook his head, fondly. "No, really. If they owe us a favour—we can call it in."

"We were saving that for your prophecy-"

"I'm alright without knowing about what happens to my prophecy."

"…if you're sure that's what you want, I'll visit them and see."

"It is," Harry said, simply. "Thank you."

"I'll look into it, then."

"I'm not really asleep. Not really. I don't think I could sit here alone in my head while everyone's out there, trying to do things and help people-"

"Harry. Harry, look at me. You're one of those people too and you deserve to be helped, alright? I know sitting still—if that's what you can even call this—for three days is more time than you want right now. But it's for a good purpose, alright?"

"…I know."

"I'll ask Oretta and see. Things are—"

"Theo?"

"What?"

"I-if he can only pull all of us through ahead three days, that's fine too."

"Harry!"

"It's alright," Harry repeated. "Trust me. Trust that it'll be fine."

Slowly, Theo nodded.

"Alright. Thank you for coming to talk to me." Harry stood on tip toe to kiss his cheek. "I know that you're still—worried and maybe a little upset, but don't be too hard on him, please?"

Theo leaned down, forehead pressed to Harry's. "For your sake," he said, softly. "I won't. And your sake alone."

"If he wants to be ours, then I want him back," Harry said, simply. "And if he's ours, then he'll be loyal, Theo. I can promise you that. You can tell that much when you look at him and when he sees you. Not just to ask who you are or what you have to offer, but when he sees the goodness in you and goes by that instead."

Theo gave him a little, soft smile.

He could, perhaps, agree to that.

Theo slammed back into his body with a choked gurgle. He scrabbled at his throat and face, tearing at his shirt and the collar, until someone spelled it off of him, allowing him to double-forward over his knees, retching and hacking, until the moment passed.

"Theo?" Ethan's concerned face swam in his blurry vision, even as he reached out to brace him with careful hands. "Ergen's heart-what happened? I thought you were fine and then I couldn't—you were-"

He's fine, Quinn gingerly edged Ethan to the side, critical teal eyes sweeping over Theo from head to toe. Resettling into your body is a jarring experience when you've been in another mindscape. He's fine. You'll be fine. Maybe ease into it, next time, if you have to. I-if there is a next time.

Theo fought the urge to glower up at him.

As it was, he lurched unsteadily to his feet, his temper carefully reigned in as he surveyed the room, Harry's still sleeping form, Charlie's worried self at the bedroom door and Ethan and Quinn in front of him.

He rubbed his face ignoring the way his hands shook ever so slightly.

"Harry's fine. He also says," and here, Theo looked directly at Quinn. "If you want to be ours, he wants you back. So. You have three days to consider that. In the meantime, he asked—for me to see about speeding things up."

Charlie frowned. "Speeding things up?"

"Oretta," Theo said, simply. "And Aracle. He has a nameless gift, remember?"

Ethan frowned. "What gift? You're talking about the Deveraines, right?"

"Yes," Theo said, eyeing him contemplatively. "I don't know what kind of magic is involved in keeping it a secret, so just let me make a call first. If it's alright to tell you, I will. If it isn't, you'll just know that we asked for help and they helped."

A moment passed before Ethan gave a slow nod. "Do whatever you have to do, as long as there is not significant risk to Harry's wellbeing."

"And ours?" Charlie added.

Ethan shrugged. "We're the ones awake and capable of defending ourselves in a changing environment. Harry's the one in a trance."

"Good point." Charlie shot him an approving look.

"Nameless gifts are nameless for a reason," Ethan said, shrugging. "It means sometimes, they can't be named because of what they can do. Of course, there are still rumours and things that are thrown around and echoed in the underworlds, but that's just how things always are, I think. Is there anything I can help with, Theo?"

"Footwork. Information," Theo said, briskly. "If this works, somethings are going to happen very quickly and we'll need to have everything prepped and ready to go in a hurry. You mentioned the tapestry earlier from the library?"

"I'll look into it some more," Ethan said, nodding.

"Charlie, are you alright with Quinn?"

A curious gleam flickered in Charlie's blue eyes. "And if I'm not?" he asked, lightly. "Then what?"

"Then get it out of your system before I get back." Theo whirled around, spelling on a fresh clean shirt and a new robe with a quick snap of his fingers.

Ethan moved forward, fussing over him with quick hands, straightening a shirt-collar and tucking stray wisps of hair behind his ears, while also tapping a protective charm into his golden earrings.

"And you," Theo continued, frowning at Quinn. "This is your one and only chance. You said yesterday that you would never hurt him. I took you at your word for that, but what you've done—hiding that, even if Harry's alright with that. I'm not. Because trust is more important to me than any other thing you have to offer. I don't care if you're a healer, I don't care if you're a Kalzik, I don't care about whatever other little things you think are more important than telling the truth."

Quinn flinched.

"I care about the truth because that's a currency that I understand. I'm not looking for your secrets to spread it around and I'm not looking to take something and give nothing in return. That's not how I work," Theo said, lowly. "But let's get this straight right now. If I can't trust you, we're going to have the kinds of problems that can rip realms apart, understand?"

Slowly, Quinn nodded. Teal fire burned in his eyes a slight defiance that seemed to shine as he matched Theo's fierce stare.

I am not hiding anything that would cause you that sort of distress—I swear it.

"Good. Because if I find out that something you're hiding causes a problem later on down the line—you won't be happy, I won't be happy and that means a lot of other people aren't going to like what follows afterward."

Is that a threat? Quinn lifted his chin. An Alpha that rules by threatening gestures and veiled warnings is hardly someone who is-

Theo's Alpha aura exploded out of him like a thunderous shockwave. The room rattled as the energy waves rippled on out, kept within the bedroom by the wards that held—just barely—under the strain. Golden eyes burned white-hot as Theo strode forward, seemingly ten feet tall in his righteous fury.

He paused exactly within arm's reach of Quinn.

"That's not a threat," he said, calmly. "It's a promise. Because I take care of what's mine. I protect what's mine and if I include you in that category, then you'd best understand that there isn't just you anymore—it's us. And if I have to make sure that I protect you from yourself, then I guess I'll just have to add that in with everything else, understand?"

Quinn blinked, rapidly.

Silence reigned.

Ethan cleared his throat when it stretched a few moments too long. He flicked his golden gaze at Charlie, head tipped towards the two emotionally-charged figures in a silent plea.

"I think he's fine, Theo," Charlie said, moving to gently separate them. "Right, Quinn?"

…then answer me this, Quinn challenged. Why would you want me? If nothing that I am is worth offering to your—refined tastes—then what's the point of my-

"Why do you keep saying that? What is it you think you have to offer to us to make yourself worthy of our acceptance? I don't understand. You keep hinting at something, but you won't say it outright."

I'm not—you're taking this the wrong way! I can be useful, but I'm hardly the best candidate for a young Circle of your standing. Not to mention, I'd require all sorts of accommodations like, mental links, an extremely strict diet, and I wouldn't want to give up my Healer's title. I've worked too hard for-

"But do you have to be useful?" Theo said, dark scales surfacing along the sides of his face. "Does it matter if you don't do anything other than just be there? Listen to Harry. Cook when you feel like it, because you seem to like it. Do whatever you want with your whole Healer title. I don't care. It's your title. If that's all you ever do, isn't that enough? Or do you feel like something's missing?"

Quinn stared at him, a haunted look on his face. His hands, half-clawed, trembled at his sides.

You can't mean that. You don't. Don't say things that you don't mean-!

Theo scoffed. "Don't tell me what I can and can't mean," he said. "You'll argue yourself into a corner and I won't pull you out of it."

I'm not—it's not that simple!

"Then explain it to me!"

I can't give you anything other than this and what I have is a wretched mess of-!

"And I'm saying that you don't have to." Theo met his gaze squarely. "Listen to me. Listen to my words. I'm saying that whatever you're so afraid of us finding out? If that's what's keeping you from this, then you'd better re-evaluate more than just spouting out what you think we want to hear. Harry says he wants you back. You said it wasn't a one-sided crush. So, help me out here, Quinn. I won't force this."

He doesn't know everything about me.

"Then tell him what you want him to know. Give him a chance to get to know more of you. Give us all a chance."

You won't—it's not that easy. What if I just want to be a Healer? What then? It's not something that's traditionally accepted, given my name and reputation, but if I don't want a rank-

"Alright."

Quinn's jaw dropped. Alright? That's it? Alright?

Theo shrugged. "Do you want me to be upset about it? Why would I be upset if you were joining us as Healer? That's your choice. Not mine."

But I could be—an Advisor. I'm probably better suited as a companion.

Theo perked a brow. He wouldn't have thought to fit Quinn into either of those general ranks, but that was an interesting thought for later.

"Do you want to be an Advisor or a companion? You'd have more control as a Healer in using your healer status if you held the titled rank to go with it."

…but those ranks are—different. Quinn rubbed his face, his eyes shimmering briefly. You don't understand I don't want to-

"I'll try to understand whenever you feel comfortable to share whatever it is, you're hinting at," Theo said, matter-of-factly. "In the meantime, I have to make a quick trip. You care about Harry and that's important to me. You've looked after the rest of us without complaint and that's already in your favour. So, if this—if we're something you want—then please consider us."

Theo bowed, formally.

Half a second later, Charlie and Ethan were mirroring him.

Quinn frantically waved at him, hands fluttering briefly, before he returned the bow. Please don't do that. The formality—it's—you scare me when you make sense.

Theo smirked. "It's a gift. I'll be back in a few hours, hm?"

"Need company?" Charlie asked, glancing between Harry on the bed and Ethan beside it.

"Tempting, but no," Theo said, lightly. "This will go faster if it's just me. Stay with Harry and—don't bring anything crashing down around your ears."

HADRIAN AND THE CUNNINGHAM'S - CUNNINGHAM MAIN ESTATE - HADRIAN'S ROOM

"Searching for something that is actively repelling me," Hadrian muttered. His hands fluttered absently in his lap as he tried to picture the items in question. The mental image in his mind's eye seemed to grow hazier than ever to the point of being unrecognizable.

The Knight's words repeated in his mind, over and over, until he couldn't help but stay hyper-focused on it.

"Stop that," Lord Cunningham said, exasperated. He had no idea how Mariana managed to actually teach some of her strays instead of flat out binding them to a shadow and calling it a day.

Hadrian snapped his mouth shut at the look shot his way.

"You're going to drive yourself mad and I am not in the mood to fix that, if you do. Yes. It is something that would actively repel a Reaper of my calibre and possibly a few levels higher than mine. You, however, are quite different. Death granted you her favour and that will aid you."

Hadrian grimaced at the reminder. He tried so hard to forget that little detail, some days. It wasn't a fond memory at all and the responsibility that was now branded into his very being, served as shackles that he could never break.

"How? I don't think the level of reaper that I am, does anything more than draw Death's eye to my-"

This time, Lord Cunningham did smack him over the head, followed by the fervent wish that it would impart some common sense to the brooding man. Really. He would have to buy Mariana something nice and bloody to make up for the foreseeable future.

Hadrian, it seemed, was determined to be difficult and that would require firm handling, if nothing else.

"Death favours you," Lord Cunningham said, simply. "And if Death favours you, what do you suppose they would do? Even if they were to assign you some impossible task?"

Hadrian froze in mid-shrug at the glower that seared him to the floor. Nervously, he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd be able to reverse summon it?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"...milord, I don't think that's possible. Something that powerful, there's no way it could be that easy." Hadrian twitched as his shadows rose up over him, twisting and twining around his broad shoulders, wrapping him up in a secure hold.

As if it was the only comfort they could offer and all that he needed.

"And if it is?"

The grimace morphed into a scowl. "It can't be!"

"You won't know unless you try," Lord Cunningham said, a tad amused. "And when it works, I am definitely going to say that I told you so."

Dark eyes flared bright, blood-red. "And with all due respect, I'm saying that it doesn't work that way!"

"How about, I stay right about here—and you give the rest of it a go? Try some summoning or a scrying or—Hadrian?"

The Gheyo had turned several shades of pale, knees buckling as he hit the floor, hands clutching at his head in pure agony.

"Hadrian!" A series of hisses and clicks had the rest of the Cunningham Circle rushing forward to help.

One of the Vega twins reached out, mild healing spells in their hands. They coaxed Hadrian's clawed hands away from his now-bleeding scalp and crooned to him in their native dragel tongue.

"He's reacting to something in his head," the twin said, frowning. "Milord, what did you say to him?"

"Nothing triggering. You all heard exactly what I-"

"Maybe there was some kind of failsafe in play?" the ACE said, circling around to help brace Hadrian's trembling body. "He's—it's almost like there's a mental block coming off. You don't think—?"

"He knows the location," Lord Cunningham said, quietly. "He tried. I suggested that he try and he said it wasn't possible, because it was too—easy. He tried it and he must've broken through something."

"And you couldn't have done it a little gentler?" the ACE complained. "Why do I always have to clean up your-" they swallowed the rest of their words and shrank back from Lord Cunningham's furious gaze.

"You know quite well that was the only way I could've eased him into it. Try and wake him after the healing takes. The sooner we have a concrete location, the sooner we can move out."

"Milord-!"

"Yes?"

"...I'll let you know."

"Thank you. I'll leave him to your capable hands while I check in with Mariana. It seems that she's found a new—plaything."

"Is that wise?"

"She does things at her own pace," he said, simply. "It's best to rise to meet her than to suggest that she curb her blade."

The ACE winced. "Excellent point. For the record, I hate babysitting duty."

"The record notes it," Lord Cunningham said, lightly. "Anything else?"

"Milord!"

"...come find me when you're through."

"Thank you."

"For the record, if your King isn't meeting your needs-"

"They are. We're just spread thin."

A considering hum filled the air, transitioning into a satisfied rumble. "Of course. Far be it from me to imply otherwise."

"I am serious, Jascha."

"In that case, just find me when you're through. You're welcome to bring company, if you feel lonely. You're flicking at the edges and I don't like it. You know what one of us turning rogue would do now, don't you?"

"I know it, but I don't have to like it. Would it really be so bad?" The ACE asked, wearily. "We've held back for so long and I feel that-"

"Just a little bit longer," Lord Cunningham said, his expression softening. "We're close to the end."

"But how close is that end?" The ACE countered. "And when it comes, will it be everything you've wanted?"

Lord Cunningham gave a slight shrug. "Mariana deserves a crown," he said, softly. "And I know you would wish her to have one, especially if it were within your power. It is now."

The ACE gave a little huff, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of their mouth. They finally relaxed, shadows flickering in and out around them. "That is true," they allowed. "A crown would look lovely on her."

"Royalty would look incredible," Lord Cunningham said. His dark eyes glittered. "But first, let's take care of a few other things, hm?"

Hadrian woke to a fierce pounding in his head and the sensation of being drowned over and over again, until his senses had dulled into something so blurred and dark, he couldn't keep his thoughts straight.

Shadows were generously wrapped around him, coaxing and soothing in alternate measures, a strange sort of wake-up call, considering his last waking moments.

He was almost sure that Lord Cunningham was less than happy with him.

Shadows moved off to the corners of the room, too close to his head. It was almost as if they were all slinking into the room to converge on his chest, weighing him down, so he couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

Couldn't be.

It wasn't as if it matters though, now did it?

He wasn't exactly alive or dead anymore. Not with Death's mark on his soul and a Reaper's Scythe in his hands, at his beck and call.

A tired sigh left his lips.

How was he supposed to find the Hallows in such a short window of time? Surely there was something he could use, even if a traditional spell wouldn't work to bring him exactly to the—oh.

But he could do that, couldn't he?

It was darker magic than he cared to meddle with, but it would work. It would definitely produce a result that he could work with, albeit from a rather bloody and grim sort of root.

But he could live with that.

After all, a Reaper was only doing its duty, as Death had instructed.

A soul marked for death was indeed marked.

"Talked yourself around then?" Lord Cunningham inquired, his voice sounding too close for comfort.

Hadrian hissed, jerking upright before he realized the reason for it.

Standing directly off to his left, dressed in his full Reaper uniform, Lord Cunningham watched, his eyes aglow with the tell-tale shimmer of red. A damning blood red that seemed to shine on him.

"You—what—I-?"

"You passed out, after whatever fancy magic you did there," he said, pushing away from the wall and approaching the bed in the corner.

It was a soft thing of black and grey sheets and blankets with fat, plump pillows propping him up on all corners, grounding magic runes sewn into the pillowcase edges and sheet-hems.

Hadrian scrambled for a moment, before realizing that he hadn't been restrained at all, but rather had been simply deposited on the bed and half-buried under a mound of clean, comfortable blankets.

"It wasn't fancy magic," he said, sifting through the blankets with an expression of bewilderment on his shadowed face. "I was—I tried to find something-"

"That was actively repelling you?" Lord Cunningham asked, knowingly. "Really. Do I have to do all of your thinking for you?"

Hadrian grimaced, hands bunching in the blankets. He tried to ignore the way the clawed tips dug into the plush fabric, but it only reminded him that maybe, he'd spent a little too much time trying to keep his element at bay instead of embracing it.

"Well?" Lord Cunningham prompted.

"…no, milord."

"Good. What did you find out?"

Dark eyes snapped up to meet crimson ones, a wariness lurking in the background, despite the initial surprise.

"It's not—the one I was able to trace is not here. Not in Nevarah."

"A sister realm or somewhere further?"

Hadrian hesitated. "…Earth," he said, slowly. "Somewhere that is protected and possibly close to water? I sensed shadows nearby and that's when-" he shrugged.

"Do you think you could extract coordinates for it?"

"Maybe? It's very clear in some moments and very fuzzy in others. I could almost reach it, but it's just out of reach." Hadrian eased out from underneath the blankets, unsurprised to find his shadows swarming around his legs.

Ah. So, he hadn't imagined such a deep fright that he could still feel it lingering in his bones. Even though it was closer to a memory than a reality, he couldn't stop the involuntary shudder that followed that thought.

Death was both a kind and a cruel mistress.

"Hadrian?" Lord Cunningham's voice was quieter than usual.

"Some runes?" he asked, clearing his throat. His shadows ushered him up to his feet. "That could work best, if I could—if they don't mind helping, I think they could pull the coordinates from the memory."

Lord Cunningham hummed, his reaper's robes flaring out around him in approval. "Excellent idea. Follow me. We've all been assembled, waiting for you to wake."

Hadrian grunted, stumbling out behind him as his legs slowly figured out how to work. He was startled by the handkerchief pressed into his hand. The question died on his lips when twin drops of wetness splattered on his bare arm.

Oh.

"…nightmare?" Lord Cunningham inquired, leading the way through the darkened halls of their home.

Hadrian swabbed at his face, confusion warring with a sudden, fresh feeling of melancholy. Fragments of the dream lingered in his mind, glimpses of sorrowful emerald eyes and a laugh, that sounded like the softest light and sweetest sound his soul had ever heard. It made his heart ache just to think of it now, when awake and alone, despite everything and everyone around him.

"I don't think so," he said, softly. "I think it was a dream. A very good dream that was—very sad."

CUNNINGHAM CIRCLE / HADRIAN AND THE CUNNINGHAMS' / EARTH / DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE

The long-distance portal spat them out in the middle of a highly-warded office-space with dozens of little gadgets whirring and screeching at their arrival. Silvery bits of metal gleamed while floating candles flickered on and off.

Magical moving portraits lined the walls, stretching up into the tall, domed ceiling. Cries of alarm and general panic ensued from within the ornate picture frames, all movement and sound ceasing at the sharp burst of darkened energy from one obviously annoyed Reaper.

Lord Cunningham stood to the side, shadowing, almost, Hadrian's full-reaper form as he stood in the middle of the office.

Half-hunched over, almost as if from some invisible pressure, Hadrian turned in a circle, seeking the source of the curiously awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It was almost as if there was a poisoned hook caught in his heart, pushing and pulling him further away from the source. Too obvious to ignore, he turned halfway again, zeroing in on a curiously empty stand on the edge of the desk.

"Hadrian?"

"…he's hiding it behind a Phoenix," Hadrian said, amazed. "The cycle. He's hiding the Hallow by keeping a Fire Phoenix as a familiar."

Lord Cunningham frowned. "Who is keeping it?"

The dark crimson scythe gleamed in hand as Hadrian shifted it to rest on his shoulder so he could have his hands free. He pushed the sleeves of his robes up to his elbows, showing thin, almost skeletal hands as his reaper nature continued to twist inside of him.

"The man who—resides within—this office?" Hadrian froze in place. "He's not here. He's not here and he's taken it with him."

"Which one is it?"

"…the wand." Hadrian's eyes fluxed from crimson to pitch-black. "And he's just left this realm."

Lord Cunningham swore softly. "You're sure?"

"He knows—he knows someone—something—is hunting him."

"Oh?"

Pitch black eyes refocused on Lord Cunningham's face, matching the gleam of barely restrained sanity. "We are hunters, aren't we?"

"Milord!" The Rune master appeared in the doorway, flushed and out of breath. "The Vega Twins—where are-"

"What happened?" Lord Cunningham moved to meet them in the office doorway, the reaper robes fading out to show an extra-reinforced Flexi-suit with visible bladed sheaths on the back.

"There's a—the Royals, we don't have a problem with the royals, right?" The Rune Master bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder, before he leaned in. "The Merrow Royals, right? We're good?"

Lord Cunningham straightened up, a renewed sharpness upping the tension in the cluttered office. "…King Alcandor is in Nevarah."

"It's not him," the Rune Master said, delicately. "It's the Queen."

"The Queen is here?"

"…outside in the lake? Yes. There's a Gheyo talking to her. An ACE rank from the look of it or a Joker. Hard to tell without giving our position away. They have no presence, but there's something familiar."

"That's why you want the twins? They were right behind me." Lord Cunningham pressed three points on his left shoulder, eyes glazing faintly. "They're on their way. Hadrian?"

There was a muffled groan of relief, before Hadrian grasped his head in his hands. The scythe shimmered and vanished, his Gheyo persona reasserting itself in a heartbeat.

KALZIK MAIN ESTATE : QUINN & SURAJINI

Quinn stumbled out of the bedroom, mind reeling, heart aching and soul pleading with him to get it all together. The memory of Theo's fierce expression and the emotion laced in those words, stabbed him straight to the core.

He wasn't that shallow.

He knew he wasn't.

And of course, they weren't either, it was just—just-!

He faltered. The door clicked shut behind him, aided by a slight push of magic that sent him stumbling out into the hallway.

A slight hush fell over the chatter in the front room and he kept his head down, 'porting back to the main house and his own bedroom.

Facing his family and the Hartwoods was just too much. After everything he'd been through, there was no way that He could handle the stress of being polite and keeping up a brave face.

Not when everything inside of him hurt so much.

Was that the price he had to pay for his own peace and quiet? A dull, monotonous existence where—no. He stopped himself again.

He was giving into old thoughts and patterns he hadn't touched in years and that alone was more of a warning flag than the whole conversation that had happened only minutes ago.

The portal deposited him in his bedroom, draped in the soft warm colours that made him feel more connected to his Earthen element. Hints of yellow, green and teal peeked out from a few corners, fancy outfits that he hadn't worn in a while, a dupatta he'd forgotten to charm back to a drawer and a card of glittering jewellery that he couldn't wear while in Healer uniform.

So many bits and pieces of himself. So many memories attached to them as well. Some good, some bad. Most of them in between of everything.

It was a strange sort of haze that settled over him as he moved from the threshold of the empty bedroom to the low wooden bed in the centre of the room. Covered in a bright cyan blanket with a golden mandala pattern on the centre, he found himself tracing over the lines mindlessly.

The ache in his chest grew worse.

I'm lying to myself, aren't I? He thought, annoyed. I want this and yet, here I am, talking myself out of it.

Except for, the connection hadn't taken.

He'd suppressed it, yes, but he'd also made sure that it was nothing more than a simple spell. Nothing too harmful that would cause issues on either side. He didn't want any side effects for Harry and ideally, none for him either.

The ache throbbed, accompanied by a deep burning thread of pain that felt as if it had looped itself around his heart and meant to eat straight through it.

Hand curled into a fist, Quinn dug the first two knuckles into the aching spot, pressing harder with a healing charm recited in his head. He just wanted the pain to stop. For everything to return to the way it once was.

Even if that was no longer an option.

Maybe—maybe it never should've been an option. After all, wasn't this what he'd craved all those years ago? Someplace to belong. Someone to belong to. A place where he could give freely of his own talents—his Soulcasting for one—without having to feel as if he were some selfish specialist because he couldn't practice enough to strengthen the gift.

Because it was too much to expose his own soul that way. Standing and weaving through such delicate magic.

It didn't matter if he meant to help, because that was always up to the individual. He couldn't help them unless they wanted to be helped.

Do I want to be helped? He dug his knuckles in a little harder. The pain dimmed by a fraction, but not enough to make it worth it.

He wished that he wasn't alone in his room with so many feelings spiralling up and out. That he'd stayed and maybe, asked his parents for some help.

Or comfort.

Or even that he'd just—a quiet knock sounded on the doorframe.

Quinn jolted up from the bed to see Surajini standing in the doorway, a tentative quirk of her lips that suggested it wasn't quite a smile.

"Hi," she said, softly. "Do you want some company?"

He hesitated.

"Or advice or just a hug?"

He sat up in a hurry, arms outstretched. Because yes please, he did want that. He wanted it very much.

Someone to hug him hard enough to make all the hurt stop.

And he didn't even have to explain himself, because Surajini was there at once, standing by the bed, folding him into her arms as if he was ten again and wanting nothing more than just to be held while his little world crumbled down around his ears.

There was the softest sigh and then a gentle kiss placed on top of his head. "Oh Quinn," she murmured. "My little shining star."

He turned his face to press against the softness of her healer's uniform, the protective spellwork scraping against his own raw energies. He let himself lean into her, the misery slowly draining off as she squeezed him tight, rubbing one hand up and down his side.

The familiar burn in his eyes reminded him that maybe, a good cry wouldn't be so bad. If it would just pull those awful feelings and emotions out of him, so he could function properly.

A few stray tears slipped out, but his jaw remained stubbornly clenched tight.

Surajini crooned softly in light, careful clicking sounds. She hummed a bit, until his arms gradually loosened and fell down to his sides.

"Some tea?" she asked, gently holding him at arms' length.

Quinn nodded.

In the warmth and quiet of the kitchen, Surajini moved easily around the counters and cabinets, pulling out heavy drinking mugs and little bottles of spices. She mixed up a custom blend in the little white ceramic bowl, before dividing it into the two mugs.

He sniffed at the familiar herbal scent, picking out green tea and a hint of mint, along with—basil? Maybe? It was hard to tell.

Odd, but not unwelcome. He'd grown up with her tea blends after all. They weren't always the easiest to swallow, but they always did what they were supposed to do—heal.

Quinn twisted his hands together, the sense of overwhelm creeping up on him again, tugging at the edges of his new calm, until he clicked, frantically, tongue-against-teeth, to gain his Mera's attention.

"Quinn?" she asked, studying him in concern.

He hesitated, before slowly holding up his hands and spelling out what he wanted. If he tried a mental connection in his current state, there was no telling what would leak through and he didn't think he could handle that.

Not yet.

"...you want the oils?" Surajini did not hide her surprise. She spelled her hair to order and banished her healer uniform elsewhere, swapping it for a comfortable lounge set in rich magenta with golden scrolls decorating the front and side.

Quinn nodded, relieved that he didn't have to repeat himself. If there was just the slightest chance that maybe, he could approach this properly, the way he should've done when he'd first realized.

"Are you comfortable coming to my quiet room for it?" Surajini asked.

He nodded again.

"Tea first," she said, briskly.

Minutes later, he held a cup of perfectly brewed tea in a vibrant green-gold colour, sweetened with a hint of honey. The scent made his mouth water, the warmth slipping down his throat like liquid bliss.

It warmed him gradually from the inside out, until he could feel the aches and fears inside of him, untangling and melting away. This was—special.

"Better?" Surajini asked, clearing away her own mug.

He smiled for her, signing his answer with grateful hands.

"Good. There's very a little a hot cup of tea can't fix. Do you want to talk about it?"

Slowly, he nodded. I think I've—made a mistake. I'm not sure if I can fix it. Properly. I said some things that were not entirely true or fair—and then I did some things that didn't match what I really meant. Or felt. What do I do now?

"Do you want advice or just to talk it out, sweetheart?"

Quinn flushed, lightly. I-I don't know? It's a lot, Mama.

"And I have all the time in the realms and nowhere else I'd rather be right now."

Are you sure?

"Tell me and I will listen, alright?"

Eventually, the conversation wound down and Surajini's smile remained gentle and comforting. She beckoned to him when he started fidgeting again. "Ready?"

Following her through the hallways, Quinn matched his steps to hers until they reached her quiet room. It was meant to be a meditative space of sorts, a perfectly square space with a high ceiling.

Wispy, multi-coloured scarves dangled overhead; a fresh, earthen-spiced scent hung thickly in the air. Earth runes were imprinted all the way around the base of the room, the dirt floor offering another layer of elemental grounding and harmony.

The dirt was packed and hard, smooth underfoot, even as Surajini moved to the small preparation station

"Wrists and collar," Surajini said. She drew out a case of healing oils from the little remedy kit tucked underneath the far end of the kitchen island. The hot water kettle steamed and puffed, charmed to pour its contents into the two waiting mugs.

Obediently, Quinn snapped his fingers for the charm that folded back his shirt sleeves and unbuttoned his collar to give better access to his pulse points.

A few minutes saw another custom blend, this time of fragrant oils and shimmering fairy dust mixed into a thick paste. It was painted delicately across his skin with care.

Surajini handed him the brush to return the favour of painting the mixture across her own wrists in a mirror of his markings.

He handed over the brush, when finished, sitting back on his heels as he waited. Delicate little trinkets—chimes and fans with tinkling charms adorning the edges—covered the walls.

Everything was a reflection of what he knew her to be. A visual confirmation of the strong Mera he knew her to be.

"Shirt?" she asked, measuring out a few shimmering drops of scented oils and herbal extracts.

He shrugged. It would be fine. It wasn't the first time he'd needed some kind of help to get out of his own way.

At least, this time, he wasn't doing it alone. He had help—the kind of help that cared enough to simply be there for him, listening and guiding, but never quite judging.

He was sure that his Mama had figured out everything he wasn't quite outright saying. A secret he'd kept for so long that he'd forgotten why it'd even mattered in the first place.

It was something he'd always hidden and so he continued on that way. Hiding it behind a false bravado, even when it had cost him a rather significant part of himself.

Even when it had almost cost him Dyshoka.

That was a price he hadn't been willing to pay and coming so close to that had seriously turned his world upside down. He'd spiralled badly before Bharin had come into the equation and then—he'd decided to focus on something else.

His healer studies.

Furthering his special skill and practicing his Soul Cast until he could manage even the most difficult of cases.

Something, anything, to distract him from the way that he wasn't like the rest of his siblings or even his friends, really.

And so he smiled and pretended. Trying not to care about the options that came and went, coupled with the reality of what those options actually were. He didn't want a marriage match of any sort.

Not like his parents or his aunts or uncles.

Not even like his cousins or siblings.

He'd wanted—none of it, really.

"Thinking hard?" Surajini asked, accepting his folded shirt and setting it off to the side. She nudged the cup of tea further towards him. "Drink."

He did.

Wrapping his hands around the rough stoneware mug and focusing on the hot steam wafting up until a fine mist clung to his upper lip, a ghost of a taste of the herbal tea still too hot to drink, but just the way he liked it.

Oh Ergen's heart.

His grip tightened on the cup.

Mama?

"Yes?"

…can I tell you something?

"You can tell me anything you want to," Surajini said, delicately sipping at her tea. "As long as you are comfortable doing so and not because of a sense of obligation or outside pressure."

Even if it's something that's not-

"Yes."

You didn't let me finish!

"The answer is still yes."

Exasperation overwrote his worried expression. Mama! It's not that simple-!

Surajini merely took another sip of tea.

He frowned, then copied her, sipping lightly at the too-hot liquid and focusing on a shimmering strand of gold on the edging of one of the coral-tipped chimes hanging in the corner.

I don't want a Pareyic Coven. He lifted his chin, gaze meeting hers. And maybe I don't want to Bond at all.

Her golden gaze remained steady. "It is your life, Quinn. You're allowed to do whatever you want with it, though I would object to you seeking an end to it before your first century. There is much to learn and sometimes, it is not—that you do not want to live, but that you haven't tried to live in earnest."

Quinn blinked, surprised, before he set the cup down hastily. No, no, no! That's not what I meant—I-I haven't. Thought about it seriously, after that time. Bharin was very—convincing. I-I would not do that. Not now. Not ever. I have decided that it isn't an option anymore. I want to find a different purpose.

"Good," Surajini said, simply.

But I meant more of—I'm serious. I don't want the traditional coven, or even just to be part of—like Dyshoka and Dahlia. I mean, I'm happy for them. But I-!

His hands curled atop his thighs, the worry returning with a vengeance.

"Are you worried that you won't find someone that appreciates your specialty or—extra skills? Your father worried about that right up until the moment that I met him and then, he decided that if that was a dealbreaker, I wasn't the one for him."

I'm not ashamed of it. More people should know how to maintain and manage their sex lives. They shouldn't be ashamed or guilty about asking questions, experimenting or even just communicating clearly what they want!

"True," Surajini said.

Quinn twitched, slightly. …I'm not like—it's different for me, Mama. I don't feel anything. I don't crave anything. There's no instinctive urges beyond the occasional need to have someone's attention or general affection, but I-

"From your rank?" Surajini asked, carefully.

Slowly, Quinn shook his head.

"From before?"

Losing my rank just proved that it wasn't a phase. I really don't—I've tried. Believe me, I have tried to-

"Thank you for telling me," Surajini said, simply. She reached over, picking up his cup and placing it in his confused hands. "Thank you for trusting me with something so personal."

You're not—upset? Did you—did you know?

"I knew something was bothering you. I knew you were carrying something alone, because you didn't want to hurt anyone—but you said it yourself, darling. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone is different. Everyone has preferences. We all learn about them, with them and sometimes, those preferences change. That doesn't take away who we really are and it doesn't erase who we've been, nor does it stop us from growing into who we want to be."

Quinn started faintly when the tea inside his cup, rippled.

A stray tear had fallen into it.

He held still as Surajini reached out, gently patting his face with a soft tissue. She paused to dip her fingers in the warmed, fragranced oils in the bowl beside her and then smoothed them over his face in careful motions.

…you really don't mind?

"I do not. I will also say that your fathers won't mind either. None of us would—and we most certainly would not judge you for it. You are you. You are your own person. You are an incredible soul, my darling. Every single piece of you, exactly as you are."

Her words washed over him like the sweetest healing balm in all the realms.

…Mama.

Quinn let himself drift again, his rushing thoughts a twisted mess in his head as his world shifted and realigned in a way he hadn't quite ever hoped it would.

He should've known though.

Despite their strictness, his parents had been there for him.

Even when he'd certainly put them through more than their fair share of stress and chaos, they were there. Consistent, caring and gently encouraging in their own way.

His heart ached now, just thinking of it, the way that the incomplete soulbond burned and throbbed, seeking to complete a connection that was no longer right there in front of him.

By the time Quinn had calmed himself down—there might've been a few hugs involved and another cup of tea involved—his mind was a little clearer than before and his heart a lot lighter.

Just explaining himself, as clumsy as it'd felt, had made a bigger difference than he'd expected.

There was something freeing in not having all of those self-imposed expectations heaped on his head. It was even better now, because he could sit and enjoy the silence as the grounding runes on the floor took effect.

There was always something calming and soothing about her quiet room.

Something that he'd always wanted to emulate whenever he decided to move out into his own living space.

A reality that now seemed so precariously close to what he'd stopped hoping for so many years ago. He'd ruined his own future with his own two hands and it'd gotten out of control.

"Do not think of the past, Quinn," Surajini said, quietly. She held out her hands to him, waiting until he took them. "The present is for the living and the future is for our hopes and dreams."

Mama…

"Sometimes we make things far more complicated than what they ought to be. Clearing your mind and listening to your heart might help with that."

But what if I can't hear anything?

"Because there's nothing to hear or because you've already made up your mind? There is a difference."

I—I shouldn't want it… He chewed on his lower lips, expression strained. It's not really good timing either and there's so much-

"Do you think Harry doesn't deserve you or do you think you don't deserve him?" Surajini asked. "There's a difference there too. Close your eyes and think it through. You already know the answer."

Quinn's shoulders hunched forward as if he could make himself even smaller in the tiny room of delicate things. He let his eyes fall shut, senses quieting and mind drifting down to the meditative state that he'd learned from an early age.

She was technically right.

He knew the answer, really.

His heart wanted Harry, but his head knew better.

"Does it?" Surajini asked, her tone knowing.

Quinn's eyes snapped open. Did I actually project that?

"Yes. You do know the answer, right?"

I can't talk to him, Mama. He's in a healing trance! The connection won't wait that long either. It's too—raw.

"Pain for a day or for a lifetime, still hurts. It's just a matter of how long you carry that hurt. You know, Dyshoka stopped by. I'm guessing she either came to see you or to warn me to make sure that you needed to get yourself together. Not quite in as many words, but I like to think that I've gotten good at reading between the lines when she tries to shape her visions."

Quinn's jaw dropped.

"I would say that if you can't talk to him straightaway, then wait for him. He strikes me as the kind of young man that would wait for you. Don't decide your joint future on your own assumptions. He could choose you. He could choose another. But do not deprive him of that choice. He has a very kind soul."

I'm not worried about his soul. His soul is fine. It's wonderful, even. But he won't choose me, Mama. I already know that. He'll choose-

"The heart wants what it needs," Surajini said, lightly. "And I highly doubt that he'd have a shortage of willing companions with that Circle he's building, if that's what you're worried about. You're selling yourself short and I don't like it. Be nicer to yourself. You deserve the same amount of care you keep trying to give to everyone else."

A/N: A/N: Hey everyone! Happy 10th Anniversary-woohoo! I meant to get this chapter out earlier, but a lot of RL things crash-landed in my lap, including my mother having a stroke and spending a week in ICU. Thankfully, she is back home now and recovering, and I'm trying to write out some of that stress.

So, did you like the chapter? I tried to make this anniversary chapter a little fluffy, even with the serious bits in there! We have some fun stuff coming up in CH 116 and (probably!) the resolution of the Quinn Arc. I really hope I did him justice here, as this was a very personal set of scenes for him and I wanted to show the support he had around him. 3

Anyway, as always-Enjoy the read! and I'll see you next chapter! -Scion

I was asked to include a short ranking summary in a recent comment, so here we go for quick reference!

DRAGEL CIRCLE -RANKS
• ALPHA — the dominant authority figure, equal to the Submissive, within a bonded dragel Circle. One corner of the operating triad.
• BETA — Mediator between the Alpha and Submissive. Usually acts on the Alpha's behalf, when needed. One corner of the operating triad.
• SUBMISSIVE — the heart of a dragel Circle and generally the shortest. One corner of the operating triad.
• PAREYA — the protector within a Circle, usually attuned to the Submissive and proficient in defensive magic
• GHEYO — the fighter within a Circle, usually attuned to the Pareyas and proficient in offensive magic. Gheyos have multiple titles within their ranks, denoting special fighting skills and establishing a clear authority figure. A Circle with all Gheyo ranks filled is referenced as having a full Suite. They are ACE, King, Queen, Prince, Princess, Knight, Page, Trainee
• MAGE - A magic-oriented fighter within a Circle that does not follow Gheyo ranking or authority. They are known for having tremendous magical ability and control.
Additional ranks include, HEALER, ADVISOR, RHEYO, ROYAL, COMPANION, and CARRIER.

Find me online as Chera Carmichael for updates on all kinds of dragel stuff. I also have a Tumblr for chapter update progress, random fandom slash and some AU fic teasers at Scioneeris.