Sorry for the wait you guys! Life has been crazy! Last semester was rough, I've been doing renovations all summer (including painting an entire room by myself and I deserve waaay more muscle definition honestly), summer school...just a whole lot of stuff with very little room for good writing breaks. But I got it done eventually!

Anyways, here's a big thanks to all my readers for being so patient! Your reviews make my day!

I promised you an OC lineup and here it is-

Misao Hiruma and Jou Suguro- The hosts of the Eastern Manor Bed and Breakfast.

Mayako Izuhara- The late owner of the house who died of natural causes in a hospital. She was from a branch family of the Hata clan.

The Hata family- A wealthy family who had the house built for them in the late eighteen hundreds.

Yoshimi Hata- Someone apparently from the Hata family.

Not a lot of OCs but I thought a good guide is always nice. I don't expect you to keep track of every single name from a case-by-case formatted story after all.

"Aguamenti!"

With the door thrown open against the blazing fire, heat rushed into his room. The flames felt like a molten wall of thick smoke and yellow fire, feeding on the fresh oxygen of Harry's room and reaching him in seconds. Completely blind now, he shoved his arm into the hallway and let the spout of water rushing from his wand douse the fire.

Wherever the water touched, the flames hissed and blasted more smoke into the tiny hallway, it was loud and suffocating, tears were pouring from his eyes and soot were clinging to his eyelashes.

For such a cramped space the fire seemed to be everywhere, blazing through wallpaper and scorching floorboards. Harry threw all his magic behind the spell, effectively sending a flood down the hallway.

Harry gave a heaving cough, smothering it into his ashy sweater, the smoke clung to his throat like a charred paste. He blinked harshly, peering into the smoke-choked hallway for anything that remained burning.

It was hard to see, but he caught strands of fire climbing the door frame of John's room and drew his wand across the entire wall, soaking it for good measure.

As the last of the fire died out and the roaring finally diminished in Harry's ears, he could hear John again.

The priest was screaming Harry's name, sounding absolutely frantic. The knocking that Harry originally thought was just the crackling of fire now seemed to from John beating on the wall separating their rooms. In between pleas for Harry to answer him, he was also spouting out lines of prayer, he must be so scared.

Harry gingerly opened John's door, mindful of the baking metal of the knob. He was grateful that the priest possessed the sense not to do as Harry had and open his door. Though it had been hard to keep track, there had been so much fire in front of John's door that if the muggle had allowed it access to the open air of his bedroom, the combustion might've been severe.

John's cries immediately cut short and his blotchy face came into view. "H-Harry?"

Harry pushed his way in, eyeing the hazy room for any fire damage. Just as Harry had been blocked off from wherever the fire started, so had John it seemed. He relaxed and looked his friend over.

"Are you okay?"

John gaped at him. "Am I okay? I'm not the one who charged into the fire like he was inflammable! What's the matter with you?" John's face was swiftly contorting to anger. "You nearly gave me a heart attack! Dear Lord, do you realize how danger-"

Harry's hand was suddenly seized and brought to John's red face. "You burned yourself! Where else are you hurt?"
Before Harry could respond, Suguro came rushing in, fire extinguisher brandished at the ready. "Are you guys okay?" He demanded, searching wildly for the fire.

"We smelled smoke and- Holy Hell, what happened in here?" He wandered right back out and stared at the puddles in his hallway. Even the ceiling was dripping.

Harry realized he was still clutching his wand tightly and shoved it into his pocket, the sleeve of his sweater was too scorched to hide it any longer. His mind raced for an excuse for all the water. The bathroom was right across from his room, so maybe he could say it was from the sink? "I just-" He began.
"Harry was hurt, do you have a first aid kit around here?" John interrupted, still holding Harry's hand carefully between his own.

Suguro blinked stupidly at the hallway a few seconds more before tearing himself away. "Er...Yeah, it's behind the desk. Follow me."

John kept hold of Harry as though he might keel over at any second and marched them both after Suguro, out of the ruined hallway and past the entrance room.

Hiruma was at the door, her own fire extinguisher in one hand and a phone in the other. Her hair was a mess of tangles and her pajamas were ruined in nervous sweat. "Is everyone alright?" She nearly shrieked. "Is the fire put out? Should I call the fire department?"

"It's out, everything's fine." Harry soothed, but her eyes only grew rounder upon getting a good look at him.

"You look like you took a dip in an ashtray! There's never been a fire in a guest room before, are you okay?"

"It wasn't in our rooms, Harry decided to put it out himself." John announced through grit teeth, all but dragging Harry away from Hiruma and into a couch in front of the reception desk.

"Here's the kit. It should be fully stocked." Suguro hefted a surprisingly large box over the desk and John quickly began sorting through the supplies.

"What was I supposed to do? Hope we wouldn't suffocate before someone noticed the fire?" Harry asked defensively, not paying any mind to the guilty hunch in Suguro's shoulders. The hosts should have definitely been more alert, at least installing fire alarms after what had already happened in the house, but he wasn't interested in scolding them right then. He was more concerned with the ice in John's eyes.

"There was a lot we could've done. Together." John hissed, dropping all his selected supplies on the cushion next to Harry and sinking to his knees in front of the wizard to gently roll up his sleeves. Harry glanced down, momentarily distracted by the number of small burns littering his arms. It was a bit nostalgic, it almost looked like when he was first figuring out how to defuse runes without getting hit by sparks.

"We could've stuffed something under our doors, we could've broken the windows and climbed out. We could've taken a moment and discussed our options like mature adults instead of you rushing headlong into the fire alone!" John continued wrathfully, dabbing burn cream onto Harry's hand as though he were made of fine china.

"The faster the fire was put out, the better. And I was trying to keep you from getting hurt." Harry snapped, snagging a packet of burn cream with his uninjured hand and slathering it carelessly across his other arm.

Now that the adrenalin was wearing down, his burns were making themselves known. His arms stung in one continuous wave that was only getting stronger, his throat ached fiercely, and his eyes were still watery with irritation. His hand, however, was by far the worst. He hadn't noticed in his haste to snuff out the fire just how hot the door handle was, but now it was getting hard to keep the pain off his face.

"What you did was monumentally stupid and hypocritical." John wrapped the burned hand slowly, pausing whenever Harry couldn't hold back a wince. "I want us to be a team on this case, did you honestly believe that when I asked you to come I was asking that you protect me from all danger as well?"

"You didn't need to. Friends make sure other friends don't get hurt, isn't that right?"

"Lord Almighty!" John tugged roughly on his own yellow locks, unintentionally gelling a handful straight with the cream still on his hand. "You're missing the point, Harry! Without saying anything you ran straight into a fire when there were plenty of other options. You can't just pull senseless risks like that without warning, you could've been seriously hurt. How can I trust you on this case if you won't work with me in dangerous situations?"

Harry looked up, eyes wide. "I don't-" The cough that had been stewing in his chest finally rose up to clog his throat, and he couldn't hold back his breathless hacking.

Hiruma darted into the room with two glasses of iced tea in hand, and she shoved them into both John and Harry's faces without warning. "This helps a lot with my throat." She explained in a trembling voice, and Harry didn't bother listening to anymore. He sipped the tea gingerly, desperate to soothe the fierce ache of his cough but tempered by the irritation in his throat.

"It's got a bit of honey too, so it should last a little while."

"Thank you." John sighed, rubbing at his own neck. There had been smoke in his room too, but Harry hadn't heard him cough once after leaving the hallway so the effects were probably minimal.

Between swallows Harry's cough slowly diminished, and soon the only noise in the reception room was his own shallow breaths.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" John asked coolly, pressing bandages on the deeper singes on his arms, over the burn salve.

"No." Harry gently shifted out of the priest's grip. "Listen I-"
"Good." John interrupted, standing up and away from Harry. "Then I'm going back to bed."
"You're welcome to sleep in a guest room upstairs." Suguro offered, looking at them both. "If you still want to stay, that is. I'll give you a fire extinguisher."

"Thank you. I'll take you up on that." John finally turned back to Harry, watching him with a guarded sort of concern.

"Are you staying as well?"

Harry could only nod.

"Then I'll gather your things and put them in a room upstairs. Get some rest." After those last words, he left without a single glance in Harry's direction.

Harry watched him go, uncertain. He wasn't sorry he'd put out the fire alone, he had magic to protect himself and John didn't. He was sorry that he hadn't explained what he was doing beforehand, it had all been so fast. He'd left John to wait for Harry's rescue.

But how could Harry apologize if he'd do the same thing over again? He wasn't sure how big the fire was or how much smoke had gotten into the priest's room by that point. Of course he'd rushed ahead, and he'd kept anyone from getting hurt in the process.

"Do you want some painkillers for that hand?" Hiruma murmured nervously.

"If you have some." The burn cream probably had a numbing agent since it wasn't excruciating, but the pain was still climbing.

Looking grateful to distract herself from the blackened hallway, Hirumatrot off for the pills.

When the pain lessened enough, Harry hefted himself off the couch and followed Hiruma to a room on the second floor. His new room had a fire extinguisher tucked by the door and his satchel placed on the bed.

"John's room is right across from yours and ours is down the hall if anything happens." She explained absently, and Harry pursed his lips. To be placed so close again, did that mean John wasn't angry at him anymore? The priest was naturally kind so it could've just been his morals getting in the way of his fight with Harry.

Harry bid Hiruma goodnight and sat in his bed.

The sky was just beginning to lighten up and Harry wasn't tired. How could he sleep? He wanted to stay in the house since the attacks happened almost always at night, but it was dangerous and it was becoming clear to Harry that actually sleeping was going to be a challenge.

Well, while he was up he might as well check on his glyp-

Right.

"Dammit." Harry sighed into the empty air. He'd forgotten to check if anyone was near when the fire was burning. If it had been an arson, or even one of his hosts, it was too late to know for sure.

Harry ran his magic over the glyphs and sank a little further into the bed when the exact same readings as earlier came to him. Four humans on the second floor. John, Suguro, Hiruma, and himself. Three separate humanoid spirits, each bordering on too weak to even chill the air. Nothing new.

This wasn't going well at all and now he'd even made John angry with him. Harry felt a wave of self-pity crash against him and it was hard not to wallow in it. He turned on his side and looked at his bandaged hand, it still hurt but he didn't mind the distraction.

Why had that fire even started to begin with? Neither John nor Harry were high school dropouts, so they were back to square one on theories. Had the exorcism agitated the three spirits? Perhaps they were humanoid enough to recognize the threat of an exorcist and worked together.

If that was the case, then John could be targeted. He could be in danger even now. The bed and breakfast didn't have smoke alarms so what if a fire started on the other wall away from Harry?

Harry rolled back upright and turned on the lamp by his bed. In the low, warm light he began digging through his satchel.

Once he gathered a wooden tile and silver chain to string it on, he pulled out his wand and got to work making one of his more popular products- runic jewelry.

Runic jewelry was bareboned and limiting, but made up for it in being portable. He could only bind up to three runes onto a tile, layered one on top of the other for a single purpose. Thankfully, the spirits have only revealed one weapon in their arsenal, and the physical damage of fire was right up his alley in terms of actual abilities.

Already lining up his three runes in his head, Harry channeled heat to a burning point in his wand and set to scorching a runic triad into the tile.

The runebind would have to be centered around Isa, the ice rune. Then given a direction with Ihwaz to defend the wearer. For the third rune he might use Uruz for strength, but was that too physical? Algiz would be better, spiritual protection is rather redundant with Ihwaz, but it would still make it more effective toward the supernatural nature of the fire.

The design, layered as it was, became a uniquely complicated series of points and angles. Because it was a combined glyph, he couldn't fuel the runes separately and twine them together. Instead, he shaped it directly with his magic, pushing and prodding until it fell against the design just right and could function reliably.

Harry laid his palm flat against the runebind and took a deep breath. With his exhale, Harry pushing his magic into the design slowly, plucking when it strayed and lining it into the burned frame. When he finished with one portion, he moved to the next laying it on top and untangling wherever it tried merging into a directionless lump. Harry pressed it flat and added the last part, slowing even further in order to stop the magic when it joined and pull it away where it squirmed. The rune was like a conduit, directing the magic. But the Runemaster had to make sure it fit to begin with.

It took ten minutes before he was satisfied, trickling his magic the entire time, hearing the spitting snaps and cracks as it grew powerful and chaotic. Harry patiently steered it back into place each time, until it was sunk deep and twisted just so and glowed like soft starlight. Harry smiled warmly as it all clicked into place and became just what he wanted.

Harry pulled his hand off the runebind and swiped the sweat slicking down his forehead, he would need a long shower after this mess of a night.

Harry admired his work for a moment, a triad with the sole and simple purpose of protecting its wearer against fire. If the spirit remained active he would have to create one for each of his hosts, but for now protecting the exorcist would be his first move.

Now...how should he give it to John? John wasn't the type to reject a gift, but Harry didn't want to misstep and make the priest even angrier at h-

A knock startled Harry from this thoughts. He flicked his wrist without thought, wand sliding into his palm, a spell sizzling at the tip.

"...Harry? Are you still awake?" John's muffled voice carried softly through.

Stupid, Harry chided himself. What did he think was going to need spellfire in a muggle bed and breakfast in the middle of the night?

Harry disarmed the spell and shoved his wand under his pillow before answering. "Yes, I'm up. You can come in."

John shuffled slowly into his room, yellow curls damp against his head and skin scrubbed clean under pristine pajamas. Harry instantly became aware of his own state of disrepair, still sweaty and blackened from the fire.

John frowned faintly at him. "Why haven't you taken a shower yet? Do you need help with your hand?"

Harry ducked sheepishly and fiddled with the runebind. "No, I- er, I just got distracted. I'll take one soon."

"I see." John hummed with an air of anxiety. "Well I wanted to talk to you about what happened earlier. I couldn't go to sleep leaving things the way they are."

Harry tensed, there was more to say? He still wasn't sure how he should fix what happened and he definitely wasn't ready for another confrontation.

John padded further into the room, hands clasped together. They both stared at each other for a long, drawn out moment of awkward silence.

Eventually John cleared his throat, cheeks pink, and began. "I wanted to apologize for raising my voice at you downstairs. My temper got the best of me, and though I was angry I shouldn't have spoken to you in that manner. I'm sorry."

Harry blinked owlishly at him, an apology was the very last thing he thought he would receive from his coworker. Then his own face began to burn as protests poured from his mouth, Harry most certainly did not deserve an apology!

"No, no, there's nothing to apologize for! You absolutely have the right to be upset- I would be too! Honestly I thought you were pretty polite all things considering, all you did was call me stupid and you even treated my wounds."

John's frown deepened, quietly watching Harry wave away his remorse. "If...you understand why I'm upset, why are you still fighting me on this?" He asked hesitantly, as if a single misstep could send Harry into a rage.

Harry chewed on his lip and looked away. He didn't want to fight again, but he couldn't figure out a way not to offend John with his answer. "Because I would still do it again. You were in trouble and I wanted to help you, still do. I should've explained what I was doing first, but I'm not sorry I doused the fire."

John's expression blanked. "Please explain what has made you believe that I am less capable than yourself?"

Harry flailed. "It's not that I think you're incapable! It's just that...if I can help you, why wouldn't I?"

"Because we were both in the same situation? You were in just as much danger as I was, we should've helped each other." John took a deep breath afterward, shoulders slumping.

"If you don't think I'm incapable, why are you acting like you were somehow in less danger than I was?"

It was because Harry had magic and John didn't, that was the truth. If Harry had opened his door and the fire blasted into his room like an inferno, he still could've cast protective charms, soaked his room with water, or even apparated to safety. But Harry could hardly say that, so instead he stared down at his lap.

His eyes were immediately drawn to his runebind, cooling quickly and buzzing just under the surface with runic power. An idea formed in his head, not quite a lie, but not quite a truth either. He snatched it up without a second thought.

"It's because I can protect myself against things like fire." Harry blurted, twisting the amulet in his hands. "I'm not a spiritualist like you, remember? My powers affect physical things. If putting out the fire had really been too dangerous I could still protect myself."

John went quiet then, his own eyes shifting to the right of Harry thoughtfully. "That's right. I forgot you weren't a spiritualist…" He murmured.

Sensing a newfound and wholeheartedly welcome peace finally start its descent between the two of them, Harry seized the opportunity to thrust the runebind out toward John.

"I don't blame you for being angry that I didn't explain myself earlier, but I'd appreciate it if you looked past that and accepted this amulet. It has protections and against fire on it, it should help."

John didn't immediately respond, but his eyes flicked back to Harry and he inhaled deeply. To his relief, John gradually approached the bed and plucked the amulet from his hand. "I- thank you. That was very kind." He smiled, slipping it over his head to sit beside his rosary against his sternum.

Harry felt like his ribs had loosened, his whole body softening into a slouch of relief. It made him feel so much better to know John had some protection in case his exorcism was what riled the spirits up. It was just the two of them besides their powerless clients, and there wasn't a whole lot of wriggle room for mistakes when it came to fire damage.

John's smile dropped, a familiar pinch sinking between his eyebrows. Harry sent him a searching look, what else was bothering him?

"You said this will protect me from fire, right?"

"Yes, it should work sort of like an oven mitt. I don't recommend you dive into a furnace, but it will repel flames." Harry explained.

"What about yours? Wouldn't it be safer for both of us to wear one?" He asked.

Harry shrugged carelessly. "Oh, I haven't had time to make another. I just finished that one a few minutes before you came in."

John's expression softened for a moment. "You mean you made this just now? You were working on it this entire…" Then the pinch returned full force. "All right, then. Up." He commanded rather imperiously.

Harry quirked a brow but obeyed. "What's wrong?"

"At this rate, you're going to make yourself sick. You should be resting after your adventure downstairs. Come on, go to the bathroom and wash up, go. Are you sure you can handle a shower with those burns?"

Harry nearly tripped, completely bewildered as the priest began herding him to a bathroom near the masters' with all the brusqueness of Mrs. Weasley.

"I'm fine. I was just about to go- but I wanted you to have it as soon as possible- I'm completely capable of finding it on my- hey!" Harry's splutters went completely ignored as he was dumped on the toilet with the lid down and the shower was turned on to warm while John fetched a towel.

"What's with you all of a sudden?" Harry grumbled when John returned.

"I have a suspicion that you're the kind of person who forgets to take care of himself and I don't let my friends squat in soot for hours at a time if I can help it." John checked the water temperature and twisted the handle a little to the left.

"And I also wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have thought the worst of you like that after our first case together. I should've known you didn't look down on me." He admitted, bringing a hand up to play with Harry's runebind.

"You don't have to apologize, you know I don't hold any of it against you." Harry tried for an encouraging smile, but erupt into a tired yawn instead.

"I'll stop distracting you, the faster you're in bed the better. Make sure not to wet your bandages, the shower head detaches so you can use that to avoid the spray. I'll check on you in ten minutes in case you fall over in there." John warned over his shoulder before marching out and shutting the door behind him.

"Now who's doubting who? I'm not an invalid." Harry complained under his breath, but stripped out of his filthy clothes and stepped into the shower stall. He cast a quick Impervius charm over his arms and hands before ducking under the spray.

The amount of black water that puddled at his feet was disturbing, and the color didn't lighten until well into his second lather. By the time he was done, a faint rim of gray circled the stall and he felt worlds better.

John had already checked on him once, so Harry hurriedly slung the towel around his hips, tossed his clothes into the hamper by the door and slunk into his room to change in peace.

John had already seen quite a lot of him while Harry had been concussed during their first case together, but that didn't mean he had any intention of showing off his range of off-putting scars any further.

Harry thought he was home free, safe inside his room and turned to back to shut his bedroom door just in time for John's door across the hall to open.

Harry froze, accidentally made eye contact with the priest. Within the handful of seconds it took for the door to swing past him, he got to see John's blue eyes dart from scar to scar on his chest, an uncharacteristically dark look on his face. It was clear John had already seen most of it while caring for Harry during their first case, there was no hesitation between staring at the locket burn to switching for the second curse scar.

Harry's door was still in motion and clicked shut in horribly awkward silence. Harry just stood there like an idiot, face burning in mortification and dread welling in his lungs.

He looked blindly on ahead, waiting for the priest to cross the hall and confront him. What could he say? He had already told John his favorite explanation involving a neo-Nazi street gang, but would he believe they had something to do with all of his scars? Hardly any looked normal, the writing on his hand was downright impossible to replicate without magic.

The explosion never came, John's footsteps softened as he stepped further away from Harry's room, and his own door shut as well. Effectively cutting them off from each other, giving Harry his space.

Harry honestly had no idea what just happened. What was John thinking now? Why didn't he ask any questions or kick up a fuss, especially after worrying about his health less than an hour ago?

Hesitantly, as though waiting for John to change his mind and barge into his room demanding answers, Harry stumbled away from the door and changed into a clean set of pajamas. Still nothing happened, John didn't come back.

Harry left his towel on the ground and fell against his bed. He was too tired to stress over what John was thinking again. Now that he was washed and dried and he and John weren't fighting anymore, all he wanted to do was sleep. Even the threat of another fire wasn't alarming enough with John protected.

He let his eyes fall shut andwas asleep in what felt like the very next second.

"We're very sorry, Mr. Potter!" Hiruma and Suguro greeted Harry at the bottom of the stairs the next morning with a deep bow of apology.
"We were careless not to provide you with protection from the fires." Suguro continued in the wake of Harry's speechlessness.

"We have been shameful hosts to you and dearly hope you will continue the case despite our failings." Hiruma added, neither lifting their heads.

"Er- um." Harry stuttered uselessly, looking over the prostrated hosts to find John peeking from the kitchen. The traitor only waved before retreating once more, leaving him alone.

"You should've definitely been more proactive about fire safety after the Suguro's injury." Harry acknowledged, watching them both practically hold their breath to hear his verdict. "Those spare fire extinguishers should have been in our rooms at the very least, but I won't leave you alone just because you messed up. A good Runemaster never leaves in the middle of a job, after all. You can lift your heads."

Suguro and Hiruma straightened from their bow, twin looks of deep relief on their faces.

"Thank you for your kindness." Suguro said gruffly, sketching another bow before walking into the hallway where that night's fire originated. His grungy overalls and blackened gloves explained his purpose fairly quickly, so Harry shifted his attention back to Hiruma.

"I wish we could offer to repay you for your injuries, but we're already giving you most of our savings as payment." She admitted morosely, dark eyes dropping to his bandages.
"Then let me stay here for free whenever I'm in town." Harry demanded, slotting a serious look into place.

His words pried a shy smile from Hiruma, as intended.

"Hmm, I suppose I can offer that much, though you might be assigned to the basement if we're already booked." She chuckled hoarsely.

"Fine but I want a complimentary breakfast."
"Only when you're in the basement."

"Sold."
Harry left her giggling before the staircase to join John in the kitchen, warm satisfaction curling in his belly.

"I tried to tell them you wouldn't leave but they were adamant about ambushing you as soon as you woke up." John greeted him wryly.

"The apology was nice, I suppose. But did they really wait for me until noon? I slept in pretty late."

John waved vaguely to the ceiling above their heads. "The pipes are old, they could hear you brushing your teeth, which I suppose is how they knew when I was coming down as well."

Harry brushed past him to pull his half-eaten omelet from the fridge. "Why do you think there was a fire last night? It doesn't match our theory."

John stilled at the subject change, brow furrowing. "I'm not sure. At this rate, the spirits may actually be acting out at complete random."

"Three spirits that suddenly began to act out in a century-old house only for their attacks to become randomized?" Harry asked skeptically. He had never heard of a spirit attacking people without correlation, never mind three at once.

"We're running out of characteristics." John shrugged. "Why do you think it happened?"

Harry's gaze dropped to the front of John's shirt, where his rosary and Harry's runebind were sat. "I think our theory might still be correct, but your exorcism aggravated the spirits enough to attack without the proper criteria."

John's eyes widened. "Of course! You might be onto something. Exorcisms have been known to draw extreme reactions from spirits, it could've taken a while for them to gather the energy necessary for starting a fire."

"You think you're up for another exorcism? If it was effective enough to anger them than it must've done some damage."

John nodded resolutely. "After you're finished in breakfast I'll begin, with any luck I can drive them away permanently this time."

Harry nodded in agreement and heated up his omelet, for a very late breakfast. He ate alone while John ran upstairs to change into his priestly robes.

If John's exorcism didn't generate any more results they may have to rely on Harry to search the house for three areas the spirits could be haunting, a detection glyph could help. He wasn't looking forward to designing a glyph so highly tuned, though, that might require a few aspirins to get through every antique. Of course he could also just instruct the hosts to dispose of former homeowner Izuhara's old things, but it would be a huge waste of money if the haunting was based in the house itself.

Once John was prepared, robes neat and bible clutched, Harry followed him around with a fire extinguisher clutched in his good hand.

It wasn't terribly exciting to hear the same incantation over and over again as he silently kept watch for retaliation, but he wasn't going to compromise on safety to relieve boredom. Every now and then he brushed his magic over his detection sets to check for fluctuations, but the three faint spirits only continued flickering like half-lit birthday candles, neither weaker nor stronger.

The hosts weren't creeping around either, Hiruma had been sitting behind the reception desk for the entirety of the exorcism and Suguro only left the hallway in brief spurts before returning with whatever supplies he retrieved.

John finished his exorcism in front of the guest rooms he and Harry were originally placed in, leaving Harry to inspect what Suguro had repaired in the meantime.

It looked like he had finished peeling away damaged wallpaper and scrubbing ash out of the carpet, so half the hallway appeared oddly naked with patches of ancient wood framing sticking out beyond the newest coats of paint.

John took a few calming breaths after talking for nearly fifteen minutes straight, and then turned to the politely silent Suguro. "Is that a dumbwaiter? I've never seen one before."

Harry took another look at the old wood and realized that what he had thought was more framing was, in fact, a panel connected to hinges and a keyhole. It looked to be made of the same wood as the rest of the house, but it was missing a knob.

"Hn? Oh, yeah. I'm pretty sure it used to be a dumbwaiter, but it was buried under a good three layers of wallpaper before the fires started. That's the only reason we know it's there. Must've broken down years ago and no one bothered to fix it." Suguro huffed, giving it a ginger pat with his scar riddled hands.

"Was there anything inside when you found it?" Harry asked curiously.

"Dunno, all the doors to it are locked and the handles were removed. Misao pried the basement door open a few weeks before my...accident, but she couldn't see a lever or box. It was probably removed too."

"I suppose that's not too odd in a house this old." John hummed, and then looked to Harry.
"So did your runes pick up anything?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope, I didn't detect any difference before or after the exorcism."

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to wait and see if something happens later." John sighed in frustration.

"Father Brown, you should know that no guest has ever stayed after a fire. The fires chased them out every single time, so I'm not sure what the ghost is capable of doing next." Suguro warned, glancing meaningfully at the fire extinguisher in Harry's hands. "What if this is just the beginning?"

Goosebumps prickled up Harry's arms at the idea, could the fires really just be stage one for these spirits? They didn't feel strong enough to escalate any further, but he couldn't be sure.

"In that case, we should try not to be alone at any time. Can you hold off on repairs and stick close to Hiruma for now?" Harry decided, glancing to John for a nod of agreement.

"I guess no one's going to see this wall for a while, and I can help with paperwork." Suguro allowed, tugging the gloves off his bandaged hands. "Misao shouldn't be alone after that last fire, anyway."

He brushed past them without another word, leaving a garbage bag full of old wallpaper and a mop propped against the undamaged portion of the wall.

"You should make an amulet for yourself now." John prompted, gently pulling the fire extinguisher from his grip. "If he's right then we should be prepared."

"Yeah, I should start trying to find any object that could be protecting the spirits from being exorcised too." Harry headed for his new bedroom, where he had left his satchel.

John followed after him, amulet and rosary clinking together with each step. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Harry thought about it for a moment, maybe he could still use his three detection glyphs even if they were stationary? John could help that way and they might make some progress.

"We could go to the basement while I make another runebind and you could drag things closer to my glyph to see if anything down there holds a spirit?" He suggested.

"You want me to move Mrs. Izuhara's things to your runes and you'll be able to sense if these lost souls get closer?"

"Yeah, is that okay?" Harry looked back to see John beaming at him.

"Of course! I'm just impressed! Your abilities make me wonder why there aren't more Runemasters with your specialty."

"Oh, er, thanks." Harry hurriedly turned away again. "The spiritual stuff isn't really what we're best at, so there isn't a lot of interest. You would've probably already solved this case if Hara had come instead, you know?"

"No, I'm glad I asked you. You're talented in different ways than Masako, and fire fighting abilities were definitely more useful than a medium last night."

Harry felt his face redden and he quickly left the stairs to retreat into his room for the satchel. "Thanks."

They headed for the basement in silence after that, tiptoeing past the scorch marks and finding his glyph sat in a cleared away circle. Harry flopped on to the floor to pull out the material he needed, mistrustful of the mildew ridden chairs. John immediately went to work hunting down old jewelry boxes and spineless books to move about the room.

Harry kept one metaphorical hand on his glyph set, monitoring for any change as he began burning the fire protection runebind onto a tile.

He had to go slow, mindful not to make a mistake while wave after wave of the same information crashed over him. He kept his back to John in order to hide his wand and with the glyph giving Harry the priest's clear details, he didn't even have to look at John to know where he was.

"Are you getting anything?" John asked impatiently, shoving a writing desk closer to the glyph.

"Not yet." He hummed distractedly, pocketing his wand as the design cooled.

He pressed his unbandaged palm against the wooden tile and began weaving his magic into place slowly, painfully slowly. His head began to throb as he still monitored the glyph over and over, searching for any sign that a spirit had moved with an object. It was in that room, he just needed to know where exactly.

"How about now?"

Harry didn't respond, his palms getting sweaty and his breath coming in controlled pants. It wasn't easy to impress a runebind together in the best of times and the magic spitting and twisting away only made it worse.

"Harry?"

"I'll tell you when-" Harry bit out shortly, cutting his sentence short as another rune tangled together incorrectly.

John took the hint and didn't speak again, he worked steadily and without pause. The basement was silent save for their heavy breaths for a long period of time afterward.

Time ticked on in strained, frustrated minutes. The throbbing had bloomed into a full blown headache somewhere along the way but Harry was too distracted to take much note.

Finally, Harry was finished with the blasted amulet. He strung it roughly by a cord and tied it around his neck. The glyph had yet to report any change in the spirit's position and John had already cleared through nearly half the room by then.

He climbed to his feet and began helping, dragging a couch closer, picking up a handful of hat boxes to shift around, even gathering leftover china to test. Anything he could handle with one hand he did as quickly as possible. Nothing happened though, the spirit remained stationary.

"The spirit might be buried under the house." John murmured dejectedly, plucking yet another portrait from the ground. It was smaller than the others, Harry noted. And dirtier-

Harry jolted as though electrified and stumbled over to John and his find.

"Harry?" John asked cautiously, hope blooming in his eyes.

"All three spirits," Harry gasped. "They did something. I don't know what. It fluctuated."

They both stared at the portrait in excitement, this had to be a breakthrough.

John pulled them both to the bottom of the steps leading up to the first floor, where the lights were brightest. He slid the photograph from its battered frame to see who could be one of their spirits. Harry leaned in close, hardly breathing.

The picture was of a young woman. She wore a plain, but clearly expensive dress with her black hair pulled into a bun almost as severe as her expression. She looked sick, with droopy eyes and sallow skin visible even in a grainy black and white photograph. She sat alone.

"Yoshimi Hata, 20 years old." John read haltingly, the kanji smeared on the back of the photo.

"Hata? That was the family that had this house built." Harry hummed, noting a tiny inscription in the corner of the photo. It was a date, the year was 1880.

"Did you do any research on the Hata family?" Harry asked, he hadn't.

"I remember Misao said that Mrs. Izuhara was a cousin who inherited the house after the sole heiress passed on childless." John mumbled, flipping the photograph back over to stare at the woman's face. "This isn't the wife who bought this house with her husband, that's not her name. There wasn't a lot I could find on their daughter however, I don't know if this is her."

"We can ask Hiruma, she'll probably know. It has to be important if the spirits reacted to yo-"
The door leading to the first floor was suddenly thrown open and Hiruma practically fell down the stairs to find them.

"I've been looking for you everywhere! Are you okay? You two aren't hurt?" She gasped frantically.

"We're fine, we're fine. What's wrong?" John soothed, holding her steady as she heaved huge gasps.

"Oh my God, I was so worried when we couldn't find you! A fire broke out by John's room. Jou caught it early and nothing was too damaged, but then you- you weren't there and-"

She gave a shuddering sigh, eyes wet.

"Everything's fine then. We're all safe, no one was hurt." John shushed compassionately, exchanging wary glances with Harry in the meantime.

"The fire, when do you think it started?" Harry asked reluctantly.

"J-just a few minutes ago! We were so lucky this time!" She cried.

Was that what Harry felt? Was the picture John found completely accidental? He ground his teeth angrily, every time he thought they were making progress everything was snatched away just as fast.

He looked at the picture of Yoshimi Hata, was she one of the three spirits or was this all just a stupid coincidence? At thisrate Harry might not figure it out until the entire building burnt down around him.

And done!

I noticed a lot of my 'relationship building moments' surround a conflict, which I think might be because I like constructive arguments in the things I read. I don't know. Anyway, how was angry!John? I knew he and Harry couldn't agree on everything but I honestly had no idea how John would actually react in canon since he never got mad. I think I did okay, but it was weird to write. He's such a cinnamon roll I couldn't imagine him being mad for very long about anything.

Oh! Before I forget! You should ALWAYS take serious burns to the hospital AND run them under cold water for a long period of time. I kinda fudged it a bit to get on with the story, but this wasn't the proper way to handle Harry's burns, never mind his smoke inhalation. He's lucky he's magical is all I'm saying.

While we're on fire safety, if the knob of a closed door is warm do NOT open it! Fire eats up oxygen, creating a vacuum. If you open your door the sudden rush of oxygen from your room to the other might honestly create a deadly explosion. Just a completely unwanted PSA for you guys.

Also, the plot thickens! Has anyone got guesses yet? This is my first real mystery so I doubt I hid things very well. Do you know what's up with this house yet?

I think I'm gonna wrap this up in one more chapter and then get back to the canon cases. All my stuff is in place and it might be time for the case finale? We'll see.

Please leave a review on your way out!