Is This The World We Created
Chapter 3
Harry remained steadily patient, saying nothing further to the small group. He had no idea what they'd been through, so he didn't want to make a wrong move. So he kept his hands outstretched and in front of him, in a 'I'm unarmed' sort of way. He did allow his magic to feel for the werewolf, to try and gauge how he was and how much longer he had.
He did panic a bit then, realisation dawning on him, this was his soulmate that the group was keeping from him. His soulmate. It made Harry wish to just use his magic and then heal him in order to calm down and relax. If he wasn't an adult wizard and in control, he would have already done so. He could feel the pull that had annoyed him so long finally settle into his bones, and his magic wrap around the werewolf unconsciously.
His panic caused Marcus to step forth, keeping himself between the pack and his leader. His eyes still red as he observed the group. Then his ears perked up, and he wasn't the only one, Derek stiffened, narrowing in on the Alpha aware that his hearing was greater than his own. He knew because at one point he had been an Alpha himself and new just how greatly and significantly his powers were bolstered.
"Incoming," the Alpha intoned, tensing up, ready and alert, claws unsheathed. Sniffing the air, trying to gauge how many were on their tails. "Hunters, at least thirty of them," such a large group was nothing surprising to either Harry or the pack. In fact, thirty was a relatively small group in comparison really. All that was missing from them was the pitchforks and the fire, from ye olden days.
"How far out?" Harry asked, his tone professional, standing loose limbed and ready to do whatever it took.
"Too close," the Alpha warned him, he wouldn't get to heal Peter here, it would take too long and the hunters would be on their tails. "They have automatic weapons, snipers, they're heading for the trees, and hunting for them." gesturing towards the pack, assuming there was no Alpha nearby to hear them, stupid decision that. They quietened down very quickly though, and by quickly he meant that, he could barely hear them moving, "Professionals, can barely hear them moving through the forest." Having to actually strain to hear any sort of movement, they seriously had a hard on for this group. Either that or just anything that was supernatural.
"Shit," Harry muttered, "Well, you can either come with me or face that lot," he told the pack with a seriously grim face. Praying that they would come with him, he wasn't going to force them to come with him.
Derek glanced down at Peter and then at Liam, both were injured and nowhere near a supply of wolfsbane. It seemed as if this magical practitioner could heal wounds with only magic. Like Stiles had learned to do out of sheer desperation years ago. If he didn't take them…then his Uncle Peter and Liam would die…but if he went and it was a trap…they would all die. Shoulders hunching, he clutched at Stiles, who hadn't woken up in a week, and was constantly feverish and out of it. Despite the fact the pack had two members who were older than Derek, he had become the defacto Alpha of them all. This was his decision and the pack would abide by it.
"You've got five seconds to make a decision," Harry stated. Revealing nothing, neither by facial expression or scent, he kept his feelings tightly contained behind his Occlumency walls. Otherwise he would utterly overwhelm everyone around him.
"Where we are going there is sanctuary, it's been there for six years now, we can help your pack, even if you want to leave again afterwards… you can take supplies and we can drop of off wherever you like, just come with us and recuperate." The Alpha informed them, his heart remaining steady and calm, knowing they would hear the truth in his statement.
"Derek," Liam whimpered, curled up in pain the arrow having been dragged out of him by Isaac moments prior. He wasn't healing, the wolfsbane was preventing any healing from being done. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, as the wolfsbane did its job at an excruciating pace.
"We'll come," Derek stated sharply, his face a blank mask.
"Who here is a bitten wolf?" Harry asked, getting ready to move.
"Liam, Isaac," Derek said, scowling, wondering why the hell he asked such a thing. Did he have something against bitten Were's? Was he one of those people and only want 'pure' werewolves in sanctuary?
"Hold on to me, everyone, immediately," Harry ordered, grabbing a hold of Liam and Isaac's wrists, keeping them angled away from his body. The Alpha automatically stood at the back of him, gripping his shoulders. The sound of gunfire closing in on them, bouncing off Harry's shield. Harry was grateful for Marcus' forethought, he didn't want any of these unknown werewolves near his neck or shoulders…especially since he was about to Apparate them away from the area. Apparating caused them to lose control, especially a bitten one. He had many scars to prove that as a sound theory too. The others all grabbed a hold of his arms, while Harry's other hand held onto Peter and Stiles, it was going to be seriously uncomfortable due to the fact he was crouched. They assumed he was going to use magic to create a new wall to keep the hunters from finding them, instead they found themselves enduring the worst experience they'd had with magic yet.
"Hold your breath," Marcus informed them, just before Harry Apparated the group back to the walls of Sanctuary.
Unfortunately, they didn't listen, which made the experience harder than it had to be.
Marcus was quick to grab Liam and Isaac's wrists, while Harry was strong he wasn't as strong as a werewolf. Hence his automatic reaction in order to prevent Harry being farther injured by the werewolves he was so desperately trying to help. Derek had wolfed out as well, but at least had the decency to think first and not just blindly attack. "Easy pup, look around you," making no attempt to Alpha voice him into submission or hurt him in any way. It wasn't how you taught young werewolves, at least not in his opinion. Everyone had different approaches to how they taught their beta's.
"Daddy!" Sammy said with wide beaming smile, right at the edge of sanctuary, waiting for his Alpha daddy to return to him, as he often did. No matter how many times he was reprimanded for it. The 'reprimand' was half hearted at best, there was no greater sight to Marcus than seeing his son welcoming him back, even if they'd only been gone a few hours. There was one thing to be said though, one thing Sammy never disobeyed, he never stepped over the line, never exited sanctuary.
"Sammy go and get Clara and Alex, quick as you can now, tell them we'll be in my quarters," Harry said, using a reassuring voice on the young boy. "Help me get them passed the wards," using magic, Peter and Stiles were automatically levitated, a stretcher appearing under them orange in appearance and begun to levitate them into sanctuary. Derek didn't even leave Stiles side for a second, holding onto his hand as he easily kept up with it. Derek growled, a low rumble not trusting magic must, except for when Stiles used it.
"Alright, come on, let's go," Harry murmured, keeping well away from the unconscious human and werewolf, they seem to bring Derek's protective tendencies. It wasn't the first time he'd been on the receiving end of protective attitudes, and it probably wouldn't be the last.
Nothing else was said as Harry and Marcus – The Alpha – led the newcomers into the ranch turned sanctuary. They weren't stopped by anyone, and nobody was overly nosy by their presence here, they would all get a chance to say hello anyway.
The other human and the long curly haired werewolf helped the youngster, Liam Harry thought his name was. Meanwhile, Derek walked closely as humanly possible to the human. The girl sidling close but keeping a close eye on the Alpha and Peter. He could tell they were related, the similarities were too striking to be anything but. The sharp features, hair colour, everything, did his mate have a daughter? Someone he had chosen as his life mate?
Derek gaped as he walked, his Beta shift receding as he tried to take everything in. The smells, the people, the scents, the contentment, the safety, the happiness, the pups he could see playing as if all was right in their world. The smell of the food though, it made his stomach rumble and an unwilling whine to burst forth. He'd barely eaten anything substantial in such a long time, instead giving his share to Stiles, his mate, he was sick he needed more sustenance.
The rustic ranch was the most beautiful thing Derek had ever seen, lush and thriving, unlike the rest of the world outside of it. Inside had Derek closing his eyes, just listening to the general hubbub that came with a full house, reminding Derek so vividly of his family. A family that was lost to him due to his own actions, actions he had forgiven himself for, allowing his eyes to go from blue back to gold for a while. Before he had to kill to defend his pack again, and thus his eyes went from gold again to electric blue he didn't regret it for a single moment, his pack was everything. Even if it was an unconventional one without an Alpha.
Tightening his hold on Stiles' hand unconsciously now that he had no claws to hurt him, leading his pack to safety. Scents did not lie, and there was nobody here afraid, no pity, no rage and no scheming. There was an abundance of tiredness, but it would be strange if there wasn't. They were all tired, of hiding, of trying to live, tired of hunting, tired of being threatened for who they were.
"Holy shit! Is that a Centaur?" Isaac blurted out, having happened to look out of the window on the second floor. "There's more than one! They really exist? Holy crap!"
Harry chuckled softly, the guy sounded more like a teenager than a fully grown man. Then again, when you do the calculations he was a teen when the world went to hell. Perhaps he hadn't had a chance to know what the supernatural world was like before it happened, perhaps he was bitten just before or just after. "Yes, there's a herd of them, they don't much like humans, and by that I mean anyone, whether they be witches, wizards, werewolves, druids, human or supernatural I suppose." They had an eclectic mix here at sanctuary.
A stifled groan from Liam had the urgency re-lit under their backsides, as Harry swiftly led them to his quarters. Opening the door so that Marcus could get through, "Set him on the seat," he told the Alpha touching his shoulder in silent thanks.
Harry meanwhile directed the magic in the stretchers to gently let Peter and the human onto the two sofa's that were available. Flicking his wand conjuring up more seats so that the others could sit down if they desired to. Which the other human and the long curly haired did, Derek and the female chose to remain standing.
"This is going to hurt," Harry said quietly, speaking solely to an unconscious Peter, "I'm sorry." With that Harry pressed his hand against the wound pouring his magic into the injured werewolf.
Peter's eyes opened in unexpected agony, screaming and writhing, unable to even think of putting strength into batting the magical away.
"STAY!" Marcus boomed using Alpha voice, refusing to risk Harry because the Hale pack was on the defensive. Predictably they listened, eyes flashing, anger and uselessness before ceding to his control, as Beta's they wouldn't be able to help it, whether he was their alpha or not the Alpha voice affected everyone.
Peter gasped out breaths, the feeling of the heat coursing through his body no longer hurt, his bones were nonetheless locked up, terrified of fire and flames coming out of those hands. Yet as warm as the heat was, it didn't burn him from the inside out, he could feel it coursing around the wound and infection caused by the Aconite. His own natural healing began to accelerate at a rapid pace, a pace that should not be possible, this accelerated pace was helped along by something...this strangers magic? Even Stiles hadn't been capable of that, and Stiles was the strongest magic user possible. As the panic receded he began to realize the scent that had called to him…came from the one helping him.
His shift fell away, leaving human eyes staring at his mate that was kneeling before him focused solely on healing him. Gasping and wheezing at the feel of the bullet emerging through his body and skin and into the guys hand. Within moments the wound began to heal over properly, it still hurt a little, as the healing focused on dealing with the internal damage but compared to how it felt with the aconite burning through his system this was child's play.
"You're not healing very fast," Harry commented, frowning in concern, watching the skin knit back together at a glacial pace – especially for a werewolf – in his opinion. Pouring more of his magic into Peter in order to heal him.
"You need energy to heal, they're all undernourished," Marcus whispered to Harry, aware all but the humans would hear. "Clara and Alex are here," Marcus informed him just before a knock sounded his door, they knew not just to enter his rooms.
"Come in," Harry called out to them, "They're safe," he reassured the tense and wary group.
"What do you need?" Clara asked, immediately ready to aid in whatever way she could.
Harry pursed his lips, "Alex heal Liam, Clara get everyone something to eat, they need it in order to heal." He decided upon his next course of action.
"Of course," Alexandria murmured, the young mage agreed, making her way over to Stiles before a soft voice pipped in, "I'm Liam!" not that he though he deserved treatment before Stiles.
Harry reluctantly stood, glancing at the only other that needed treatment. He had a feeling it wasn't going to be easy. The werewolf looked quite frankly…murderous, oh, the human wasn't just his mate…he was this guys anchor to his humanity. Definitely going to be difficult.
"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked Derek quietly, making no move to approach him or the human. "We can't help if you don't allow us, has he been injured? Exhaustion?" firing off a few common things that could potentially be wrong.
"We think it might be connected to his magic," Peter informed Harry, completely ignoring the possessive and angry snarl his nephew let out.
Harry blinked, "I don't understand?" why would his magic cause him… oh, well, he asked, "He's suffering from magical depletion?"
"He's a Spark that isn't supposed to be possible," Peter nixed that idea immediately, Sparks are only limited to their imagination.
Harry closed his eyes, dread consuming him, "Was Beacon Hills his territory?" it was right next to the Nemeta, he could have very well bonded to the tree.
"Technically," Derek bit out, but he had a feeling that what he and Harry considered 'territory' was two different things.
"Did he bond to the Nemeton?" Harry asked stomach queasy, had Stiles been the one preventing the tree from dying? "How long has he been unconscious?"
"There you go, keep sitting down, let yourself heal," Alexandria told the adorable puppy looking werewolf to remain seated. Nodding in satisfaction when the wound finally closed, leaving behind smooth skin, with only blood caked on that indicated something had even happened.
"A week," Derek gritted his teeth, worry and fear consuming him, "And I don't know," looking as though his world was collapsing. He just didn't know, even Peter didn't know, and he knew most about magic except for maybe Stiles.
Harry stepped closer, "May I?" his hand hovering, watching Derek for permission. He wasn't about to make any move towards someone's anchor, especially as he wasn't trusted. "I mean him no harm, I just want to find out what's wrong with him so I can help." Remaining truthful, knowing that the stressed out werewolf would hear the truth in his heartbeat.
Derek reluctantly moved aside, but only just, keeping a distrustful eye on the magical user. Not even the Alpha would have been able to get Derek to trust him immediately. He was watching them so intently that he jumped when Harry spoke, "Can you tell me his symptoms?"
"He was cold, before he gained a low grade fever, before it gradually worsened," Peter was the one to speak, Derek wasn't one for talking even now. "His fever caused delusions, feverish dreams," Derek flinched at the reminder of Stiles speaking to his dead father, then pleading for him to get away. Derek hated the fact Stiles had lost his father more than anything else that had happened since he returned to Beacon Hills. Unfortunately, Noah Stilinski proved just as stubborn and unmovable as his son, and wanted to help despite the dangers. "It wasn't long at all before he remained that way, we've been bringing down his temperature any way we can, medicine we found in the old Beacon Hills newspaper offices and cold water."
"Cold you say? To the extent he was shivering?" Harry asked speculatively.
"Yes, we were able to warm him up," Derek finally spoke again, between the werewolves, Stiles body temperature had gone back up. Enough that he hadn't worried too much, but his easement had been premature.
Harry held his hand out waiting, Stiles if he had been conscious would have commented on how much Harry resembled 'Thor' waiting for his hammer and probably made some bad joke about it. Fortunately for everyone's sake, he wasn't, Harry regretfully hadn't seen Thor or any movies, he was as far from normal as one could get. Before long a small vial slapped into Harry's hand, "This is a magic replenisher, if he is magically depleted then this will help."
"And if he's not?" Peter asked with deceptive mildness, he was very protective of Stiles, and he did not want to see anything happening to him.
"I believe he is, but it will just be nothing more than a boost if he isn't," Harry explained easily, "It isn't pleasant to drink, but I can use magic to have it immediately transferred into his stomach which will work quicker?"
"Peter?" Derek questioned, all this magic was beyond him.
Peter just shook his head, he knew nothing of any sort of power boosters, or magic replenishers as his mate – his mate – had said.
"I've taken it in the past," Alexandria informed them seriously, "It tastes awful but does work,"
Derek was still staring at Peter, willing him to know the answers that he didn't. Years ago he wouldn't have trusted Peter with even a plant let alone his mate. Things had changed, all the things Peter had warned him about – which Derek had just thought was jealousy – had come to pass. He'd been right all along, and by the Moon Peter had tried to stop what he could see was going to come to pass and paid heavily for it repeatedly. Eichen house was…an awful place to be and he'd let his own uncle be locked up in there. How different would things be if he had succeeded?
Peter nodded once, heart pounding away as the stuff in the vial disappeared presumably into Stiles stomach. Everyone in the pack held their breath, Stiles was the heart of their pack, always had been, always would be. It had just taken a long, long time for them to realize that. Too long, in fact, but the years hadn't been kind to any of them in one way or another.
Then, low and behold, Stiles groaned, a soft sound but the first sound he'd made in days. The relief on the faces of the werewolves, made Harry realize he wasn't just an Anchor of one but the lodestar that kept them together. Then again, groups who had started out at the beginning of all this…well, it was a surprise to see them all still alive and well. The Spark must be very powerful if he'd kept them all safe this long on his own, but his reserves must be immense if he was keeping the Nemeton and them safe simultaneously.
"Stiles?" Derek said with urgency, kneeling beside his mate, green eyes watching Stiles intently, sweet relief flowing through him when those beautiful amber eyes opened. Honestly, if Stiles was to ever become a werewolf…he didn't think there would be any change to the eyes, so Beta gold and Derek loved his mate's uniqueness. He wasn't the only one with those coloured eyes, true, but they were rare.
"Wazithell 'append," Stiles slurred, "Whyma feel…" he was starving, starving in a way he hadn't felt since he began practicing magic when he'd been a novice spark. Other than that, he felt…powerful, like he could use magic for months without pause.
"Why are you interested in Beacon Hills?" Peter demanded to know, his gaze focusing on the information plastered across the walls of the room. His relaxed posture with Stiles coming around… become tensed as a coiled spring as he wondered what this guy wanted.
"Who isn't at this point?" Harry replied wryly, "Not that there's much there, at least nothing actually confirmed…just stories that people have heard over the years."
"Is that bacon I smell?" Stiles sat up, "Whoa!" feeling immediately woozy afterwards.
"Quite right," Clara said with a quite chipper voice, platters floating around her, filled with delicious smelling and tasting food. All five of the platters were delicately put down on the table that suddenly materialised for them courtesy of Harry's magic. "Now excuse me, unless you need me I best get everyone else fed before we have a riot on our hands," she added teasingly, which of course, was just a tease, there was more than enough food for everyone here, enough animals, in fact all the sanctuaries made sure they had enough to do them long term when they were put up. What wasn't used was preserved until the next meal, nothing went to waste.
"I'm sure they won't want to hurt your feelings by doing that, or risk your ire," Harry said wryly, sighing softly, as he sat down, Clara laughed, before waving as she left, Alexandria leaving with her.
"You can eat with your pack if you prefer," Harry said to Marcus, aware that he had everyone's attention.
Marcus didn't reply, he merely took a seat, he wasn't about to leave Harry alone until he could trust them.
"Come on, sit down and eat, the questions can wait until afterwards I'm sure." Harry added to the rest of them.
The Alpha immediately flashed his eyes in warning, making it clear that they weren't to question Harry.
Derek easily helped Stiles to his feet, keeping most of his weight overjoyed to see him conscious after an entire week of terror that he'd never wake back up.
Peter glanced at the wall then the food, his stomach rumbling loudly, clearly torn between eating and getting answers immediately. In the end, he did what all werewolves have done before him, sat down, shut up and loaded his plate with enough food until it was positively overflowing, keeping a close watch on his mate both fascinated and cautious. Why was his mate so interested in Beacon Hills? What was his end game? He was…actually he had no idea where they were. "Where are we?" he could smell a river nearby, and not just a body of water…it was vaguely familiar.
"Welcome to New Orleans," Harry said, informing them of where they were, a wicked smirk on his face, watching them choking on the food, bacon, roasted potatoes, left over turkey from last night, bread, gravy and a lot of different green veggies.
Peter was almost proud of that smirk, it was very reminiscent of ones he liked to give others when he knew information they didn't. Been a long time since that occurred of course, not much as of late to smirk, laugh or even smile about.
Stiles groaned and Peter threw him a grin of his own, very much aware of what Stiles was probably thinking, or one of the many things anyway. 'Not another Peter' or 'now there's two of them' amongst probably wishing for curly fries and such. Stiles' mind was a…hell of a place to be, his mind jumped every few minutes which didn't help him learn magic as quickly as he could. He hated it, but without his medication his ADHD was a little…out of control but not as bad as it used to be as a child. It made him unique though, and Peter had always been fascinated with the rapid fire way he connected things all the while thinking of something else and going off on tangents.
Other than the revelation of where they were, the room remained silent as the new pack stuffed themselves as full as they could. Not stopping until they literally just couldn't eat another morsel, but they made a great effort to empty every plate, even the vegetables.
Unsurprisingly it was Peter who spoke first "Why are you researching information about Beacon Hills?"
Harry leaned back, with a flick of his wand the contents of the table disappeared. Harry pressed his fingers against his mouth, a thoughtful look on his face. "There is…a three point spell over by the door, why don't you see for yourself?" he'd rather not have to explain the intricates of his plans, it was just the one of many.
"Nu-uh, me first," Stiles tried to stand, before Derek grabbed him stopping him from face planting on the ground or hitting the table on his way down. A very familiar routine had had Derek relaxing farther. Pouting at Peter's back, he sat back down, hating how weak he felt even though he felt as though he had more power than ever. His curiosity was getting the better of him, making discontented grabby noises, causing Peter to roll his eyes and bring the 'three point spell' over, it was a lot of pages, ingredients, directions, but he had to keep reading since he didn't know what it did.
"I'm going to assume they're the brains of the pack?" Harry said, an amused smile on his face. The others weren't even attempting to try to get between them.
Either that or they were in food comas and just enjoying a full to bursting belly for the first time in who knows how long?
"The patrol is back," Marcus informed Harry, "No signs of anyone," which included hunters, nobody wanted them converging on their doorstep, so they often went out and dealt with any they smelt. Patrolling around their territory half the group were Were's and half were able to perform magic to keep everyone safe if they were spotted. It took hours with half the group being unable to move at the speed the Were's do but safety was paramount and they adhered to the restrictions Harry put on them for their safety.
"Good," Harry replied, just then Marcus sighed in exasperation, shaking his head fondly, it was the only warning Harry got before young Sammy bound into the room making a beeline for his daddy. When it came to kids, there were no boundaries, regardless of what was said.
"Wait…this is impossible…" Stiles muttered, "It can't be,"
"Theoretically it is.." Peter added, flicking quickly through the information.
"But come on…I mean seriously?!"
"What is it?" Derek's commanding voice brought both Peter and Stiles out of their vocal musings.
"No way," Stiles shook his head eyes impossibly wide from where he sat. Regardless of his belief, he felt hope brewing within him for the first time in years.
"It appears as though this is a…" Peter begun, struggling with the implication of what he'd just read. "Ritualised spell that will send someone back in time."
"Sands of time though? What the hell is that? There's no way to even get something like that!" Stiles argued, "It's moot point." His mind mulling over what it could mean, sands of time? Sand from what? A beech with the name meaning time?
Derek snorted, clearly not buying into it, but he could see the looks on Stiles and Peter's face, they really thought something like that would work. "You seriously think that will work?" taken aback if Peter and Stiles did then it would.
"Oh come on it's fools hope!" Chris said derisively, "A desperate man's dream,"
"Ah, come on, we all wish we could go back but it's not going to happen," Isaac agreed with Chris, but that wasn't a strange thing. When Isaac attached himself to someone, he agreed with them until he found someone new to attach himself to. It repeated itself with Derek, Scott and of course, Chris and it had remained that way.
"But is it possible?" Liam asked, sounding hopeful, but he was the youngest of the group and would of course, want to believe it's possible.
"No," Stiles and the others declared, refusing to give their packmate foolish hope, as much as Stiles wished it would work…how the hell would they get even a third of the list? The sand of time thing was the deciding factor. "I mean phoenix tears? Sand of time? The blood of a wizard who has died and returned?"
"That's actually a rough translation, what it means is the Master of Death, but yes, it does mean a wizard who has seen the veil on the other side and returned." Harry said wryly, they needed the power of the Master of Death to complete the spell, along with Stiles actually, he was connected to the Nemeton and the Ley lines. "Something you are familiar with, isn't that correct?" Harry said, gazing at Peter with an intense look on his face.
"Excuse me?" Peter was stiff as he stared at Harry stunned beyond belief.
"Your soul is fractured," Harry explained easily enough, not caring that he was making the pack defensive again. "You made yourself a soul piece and put it in something before returning…your two pieces were reunited but there is cracks leading right down to the foundation of your soul." Not using the term Horcrux because not many wizards knew about the term let alone the rest of the supernatural.
Peter barely refrained from gulping, refusing to show any signs of fear or regret. He didn't regret returning, he'd even said the same thing to Stiles when he realised the price he'd paid to return. A fractured soul was better than death in his opinion.
"I know of someone who used that particular spell seven times," Harry admitted standing up, staring out the window and continuing, "To a point he was running on only a tiny particle of his soul…he killed and elicited the killing of thousands of people before he was stopped. He felt nothing, without his soul he was a killing machine, not that he was a stand up guy before he begun splitting his soul of course. He was a sociopath."
Peter's heart was pounding away like a drum, nervousness getting the better of him. He just knew deep in his bones that this was the man who had stopped him.
"Who was he?" Stiles asked, of course, it was Stiles he was the one who had retained the thirst for knowledge despite everything.
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, he was better known by the name of Lord Voldemort, you will have been a bit too young to remember the 'terrorist attacks' that plagued England back then." Harry explained turning back around, he didn't even need to be a werewolf to know he had unnerved his mate so thoroughly.
"A Mage was responsible for those attacks?" Chris asked surprised, yes, he knew about them.
"Before the world went to hell, our people hid ourselves from the Mundane world." Harry turned to Chris, "To save ourselves from the Witch trials that the hunters perpetrated on our kind." Chris stiffened, his turn to become nervous more so when the Alpha's gaze sharped in on him as if he was realizing why he was so nervous. "The magical world, wizards, witches, hags, goblins, Centaurs, Merpeople, Pixies, Mountain Trolls, werewolves, Giants, House-elves, down to magical creatures such as Dragons, Basilisk's, Phoenix's and of course, ghosts all hid themselves…we tried of course, to prevent the exposure, but it was too widespread, too quick, too damn televised, to the point we were useless against the mass exposure." His hands curled into fists, gritting his teeth.
"Witches? You're a witch? Isn't that another term for Darach?" Chris asked, heart pounding were they sitting next to a Darach?
"The technical term for a male magic user of my kind is a Wizard. I was born to magical parents, born with a magical core. I've never had to steal in order to do magic, to compare me to a Druid or a Darach is insulting to say the least. One is a pathetic imitation and the other is an abomination." Harry explained calmly remaining standing, "As I said before we hid ourselves, so you will need to overcome your…belief's on those who use magic. Most wizards and witches you'll know and be able to identify because they use wands. Most of the magic users here are either Mages or low level Sparks, speaking of…how long have you been connected to the Nemeton?"
"Who me? I'm not," Stiles said, staring at Harry in confusion.
Harry arched a brow staring in disbelief, "You cannot feel the connection you share with the Nemeton? You and you alone have been keeping that particular Nemeta and it's connecting Nemeta from dying, but the drain is becoming all too apparent, the rot is getting worse, which means more magic usage. You've been suffering from magical depletion, if I hadn't found you, you would have slipped into a coma and died…draining your magic is very serious business, and the fact you're unlimited…makes this situation even more serious than you can possibly fathom."
Stiles sobered and gave a grim nod, amber eyes filled with sadness, "Magic is dying,"
"Not just magic, the world cannot be sustained without it, the hunters haven't just killed off the supernatural but inevitably within a year or so…perhaps a little longer…maybe even less…" Harry paused letting the seriousness of what he was saying sink in, "All life on this planet will cease to exist, the trees are dying due to ground contamination, which means no oxygen…the Earth is dying…the hunters have condemned every breathing thing on this planet."
Marcus tightened his hold on his son, closing his eyes, he'd suspected this when he saw the conditions of the Nemeta this afternoon.
Derek grasped a hold of his mate and bodily brought him close, curling the Spark into his body, giving and receiving comfort. The still unnamed girl threw herself at Peter, needing comfort herself, she wasn't crying or shaking in fear, but she was scared.
"The only consolation I can offer is that we'll be fully human when it happens, you won't suffer," Harry said quietly, green eyes filled with grim sadness. Their wolf healing wouldn't have them healing repeatedly only to feel like the life was squeezing out of their lungs again and again. He would no longer have magic. "Welcome to the world we created," a hint of sarcasm wedged in there with a whole load of resignation. His gaze was on Stiles, he would be the first to go, the potions would only work so long, and there was an understanding in those amber eyes, he was aware, resigned but worried only for those he cared about. Stiles just tightened his hold on Derek, and closed his eyes.
The horror at those words set heavily in everyone, making them cold to their very bones, despite the warm exuding from the room. All the years of fighting for survive for what? To die of suffocation…the inability to breath within the next year?
They were doomed, they'd always known that, but this…not like this.
Unfortunately, it was inevitable.
Until it wasn't.
I wonder if any of you have cottoned on to what 'Sands of time' means :D hehe probably so if I can't tell I've got End Game on the mind ;) Inevitable hehe yeah I'm nuts! Soooo what happens next? Do we bypass all the 'history' talk and hit the desperation to get everything they need for the spell to work? Will they all go into their younger bodies? It doesn't really work if two of them end up in their younger bodies but others don't...what do you think? remain in their bodies or do they all return to their younger counterparts? Harry and Peter will probably be the only ones running around doing anything to prevent stuff due to Derek and Stiles young ages OR will it be more along the lines of having to 'pay' in some way in returning? Will Harry lose his MOD powers? or will magic gift him with a mate who will always be with him? This one admittedly isn't as well thought-out at least not until AFTER the time travel part so you'll have to bear with me until then...should they be more down having lost all they did? OR just taking what joy they could get? How you think they should be reacted? R&R please!