AN: I am so very sorry for taking so long before updating but real life was a bitch and I had little to no time to write. Nevertheless, here is the next chapter and I hope you enjoy XD

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other recognizable characters with the exception of my OCs.

Harry glared hatefully at the three objects that sat innocently on his bed, wanting nothing more than to destroy them or at least get far, far away from them. He took a threatening step towards them, but it seems they were sentient for all three items glowed sickly green before a shield stood protectively over them. Harry stopped, eyes narrowed in anger and hatred but he stepped back and simply continued to stare at the three hollows.

The Resurrection Stone, the one he had thought to have lost in the Forbidden forest right after the battle at Hogwarts was the first -other than his invisibility cloak of course- of the three hollows to appear before him out of nowhere. The first time that it happened Harry had been dining with one of his many lovers, ignoring with resignation the flash of the cameras and the many stares and talk of the other patrons. He simply focused on the grey eyes (not silver like his) of Anne, a French pureblood heiress and the longest lover he had been with after three months of dating. He had then excused himself to use the loo, using the excuse to gather himself and keep his temper in check before he did the unthinkable and lashed out at the 'adoring public'.

It was when he was about to go back to his date that he felt a sudden weight appear on his pocket, painfully reminding him of his first year in Hogwarts and his first confrontation with Voldemort; reminding him of how he had attained the Philosopher's stone from the Mirror of Erised. Having learned from the war, he waved his wand to check for any curses and when he found none, he took whatever it was from his pocket. When he finally saw just what exactly the item was he dropped it in shock. The Resurrection Stone, which he had thought to have gotten rid of in the Forbidden Forest, was once again in his possession. Grief and horror had gripped his heart in a tight hold, the temptation to use the stone's powers to call forth all his loved ones from the Beyond so powerful and pulling. However, just as he had reached to pick up the stone the memory of when Harry and they had found about the three deathly hollows came to his mind. Harry may not have been as smart as Hermione but he was still quick to connect the dots and dammit; it was supposed to be just a legend!

So he had left the stone on the floor of the restroom, not caring for whoever might find it, just wanting to get far away from it because he didn't think his resolve powerful enough to resist the stone's temptations. Back then, he had hoped for it to be a fluke, only for the stone to ,once again, appear on him by the next day. Each and every time he tried to get rid of the Resurrection Stone, it still appeared before him. No matter what.

The Elder Wand, the one he had broken in half and then thrown at the Black Lake, appeared to him in a similar fashion. He had been with his son and daughter-named James and Lilian in memory of his parents-along with Ginevra; one of the only two Weasleys to survive the war, her brother Percy being the other. They were all together in a trip to muggle London, in a weekend when Ginevra allowed him to be with his children after their scandalous divorce after she found him with his male lover, Dante. That Dante had looked quite similar to a certain Malfoy only furthered infuriated her and she did all possible to take everything from him but only managedto keep full custody of the children (and that was only because Harry would never part his children from their mother).

The trip, already quite uncomfortable and disappointing since the kids were denying to talk or even look at him -Ginevra's doing, no doubt- was further ruined by the mysterious reappearance of a certain stone, once again gotten rid of with the foolish hope of it never appearing again. Just as Harry was about to call it a day, not willing to subject the children, and himself, in a hopeless endeavor to bond, was about to call the Knight Bus with his wand when said wand disappeared—just like that! He searched and searched to no avail, his Holly wand nowhere to be found. He was about to tell Ginevra about using her own wand to call forth the bus but in reminiscent of how the Resurrection first came back to him he felt a sudden weight in his previously empty wand holster.

With only a thought the wand rested on his hand, power immediately coursing through his whole being; making him feel just how powerful and dangerous the Elder wand truly was. As when he had resisted against the imperious curse, the veela's allure, and the Resurrection Stone; Harry resisted against the temptation the wand gave off and once again broke the wand in half before throwing it away. The victory he felt was the quickly swept away because, Merlin, the Elder Wand's appearance only cemented and gave credibility to the legend of the three hollows and still yet, he refused to believe the legends, to accept they were real. Still yet the wand reappeared in his possession two days later.

As for the invisibility cloak, he kept it with him always, said cloak having come in handy during many times in the war. When the time came for James to set off to go to Hogwarts he had gone to see him off with the intention to give it to him, as was tradition in the Potter family. Nevertheless, something had held him back, some instinct or feeling that refused to give away the cloak off to his son. However, he had ignored it and still gave it to James; explaining to him of the family heirloom and the importance of keeping it secret and safe, and well taken of. When he had gone back to his home at Potter Manor a feeling of wrongness followed him, feeling like he had just made a mistake. For a whole week, the feeling haunted him, and just when he was going to give up and somehow get the invisibility cloak back from his son's possession, said cloak appeared before him like the other two hollows.

And he gave up.

That is how he ended up in this situation, all three hollows gathered together for the first time since their creation; whether created by Death as legend said or by the Peverell brothers like some scholars speculated, he did not know. But they were powerful if the magic and power they each gave off was anything to tell, never mind the unimaginable power all three put together exuded. Powerful, yes, but dangerous were they too. The bloody history of the wand, the grief and sadness the stone evoked in each of its users –Harry had not been an exception when he had first used it before his death at Voldemort's wand-, only the cloak seemed to have left no bloody trail, always having protected its master and descendants.

He glared at the three artifacts, accepting that he was their 'master', but that was not why Harry held a certain fear of them. Because if legend was true to itself then he feared for the title that came along with said items: Master of Death.

He sighed tiredly, looking at the grandfather clock and frowning at the time, midnight. He returned his gaze to the three hollows and approached them only for the shield to flare up once again in warning and start to glow pitch black with white tendrils.

Then he knew no more, blacking out but not before seeing through his blurred vision a hunched silhouette coming out of the darkness of the glowing magic.

Chapter Four

Marcus Corvinus paced back and forth outside the room where his wife was in, his clothes and hair rumpled, shadows underneath his eyes that had nothing to do with lack of sleep, fingers twitching to run through his hair once again in a nervous gesture. From time to time, he would stop and stare at the door with anticipation, sure that any moment his friend would walk out and give him the good news that his wife was fine, healthy, safe, and certainly not dead. However, with each passing second he grew more and more anxious, concerned and desperate for any news of his wife, not caring any longer if they were good or bad news, he just wanted to know something.

So he prayed. He prayed for the Goddess Hecate—who surely had his wife in her favor as one of her most devoted and faithful followers—to keep his wife safe and alive. Pleading for her not to allow his wife to be taken from him; promising a larger and grander altar to be built in her name; anything to keep his beloved at his side longer.

Not able to take it any longer he strode to the door with the intention of entering despite the fact he was given explicit orders by the healer to not enter until the surgery was over. However, just as he was about to enter said healer finally exited, a tired but relieved smile on his slightly bloodied face. Marcus ignored the blood splattered on the white robes with little to no thought because he knows—she is all right, alive…

He wants to storm in, see with his own eyes that she is well, that the spark of life and love that was—is always present in her eyes is still there; not blank and unseeing to the world. He manages to control his impulse, fists his hands to stop himself from doing so, and stares with hard eyes at his friend and family healer, Louis Johnson, his friend for ten years and the man he trusts with his beloved's health and wellbeing.

"I do not know how but all her internal organs were damaged critically or completely destroyed. Her heart and brain too, suffered damaged in the attack but not as serious as the rupture in her lungs and stomach. How she managed to survive until my arrival, I do not know, but she did. Marcus, whatever is that happened to her wasn't completely natural, traces of dark—no, black magic were found in her magical core; the damage done to her body unlike anything I have ever seen or read about." Louis hesitates before continuing, not encouraged by the thunderous and glaring face of his friend but he forges forth, professionalism urging him on. "She died three times, Marcus. Not only did I have to regrow almost all of her organs, the black magic still left in her managed to destroy the new organs each time they were regrown. Only after the third attempt did the black magic finally dissipate from her core, only then was I able to safely regrow all her organs although with how weak her magic is right now Lilith will have to follow a rigid meal plan along with a regiment of potions she will have to take at a regular schedule."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"The potions and the meal plan. Didn't you regrow her organs? Shouldn't she be fine now?"

"Sigh. Marcus, you need to understand that she died. Three times." At his friends blank expression he explained. "You should know that when we die our magic immediately turns to ambient magic and returns to where it came from, to nature and into the Earth. That it is the reason the killing curse is so dangerous and kills instantaneously; it severs the connection between our magic and our physical body…making it so that our bodies stop functioning instantaneously and we die. The new organs need the subject's magic to function correctly and efficiently since they are new organs, Lilith right now has severely low reserves, having only enough magic in her body to stay alive and not react negatively to the new organs, specially her lungs and stomach." Louis sighed before continuing, beyond exhausted after doing a surgery that is normally performed by three healers and not one. "She will live, Marc, but her body is too weak, the potions will help with growing her core since it has been reduced to that of a squib—he ignored his friend's alarmed expression—but with time and the potions it will slowly, but surely, grow to be as large as it used to be. The meals are only until her new organs become acclimated to her body, after that she will be able to eat normal meals," he run a hand through his hair, grimacing at the damp strands but ignoring it for the time being; he will take a much-needed shower after returning home.

"I repeat, Lilith is alive and well, it will only take time for her to return to full health." Or as much as she would be able to with her incurable sickness, but he did not mention so.

Marcus allowed himself to relax, if only minutely, at his friend's assurances, but he was still concerned over his beloved's health. He closed his eyes and when he opened them he pulled Louis into a hug," Thank you, Louis. Thank you." Louis simply allowed himself to be thanked, keeping to himself that it was his duty, not only as a healer but also as their friend, to do everything in his power to save her.

When Marcus finally entered the room, he immediately rushed to Lilith's side, taking in her pale and weak body but the smile she wore, small but full of love and tenderness—Marcus nearly wept, such was the relief he felt, as if a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Lilith, feeling terribly sore and weak, was barely able to lift her hand and place it on his cheeks, smiling when he leaned into her touch. "'lo love. How you've been?" her smile was weak and small but it made him smile, remembering eleven years ago when it was he in bed and greeting her like that.

"Cough, cough—I don't want to interrupt but I need to go, I have a baby delivery to oversee soon but I will come back tomorrow for a check-up to make sure everything is healing as it is supposed to and to give you the list of meals and potions you will have to take to make a full recovery."

"Thank you, Louis." Lilith tried to sit up only to have her arms buckle und her weight, her husband having to help her with the simple task and Lilith had to suppress a groan when her body flared up in pain. However, Louis is a healer and can tell she is in pain and takes out two vials from his medical bag.

"Here—hands Marcus the vials, one a sickly green color and the other a dark red, almost like blood—this is a pain relieving potion—points to the green vial—and blood replenishing potion—points to the red vial— Drink them now but you have to eat something afterwards, preferably a simple broth soup and some warm tea so as to not upset your stomach."

"Again, Louis, thank you." Both Lilith and Marcus would be forever in debt to him, had he not gotten there in time then she would not be here, alive. Louis accepted their gratitude, but apologized that he had to go right now, apparently, one of his patients was giving birth and her irate husband was demanding for his presence. With a last farewell, he was gone, leaving husband and wife alone.

Marcus and Lilith

"How are you feeling, love?" Voice soft and tender, one hand holding her hand while the other he ran through her hair, her ever-present scent of jasmine and vanilla wafting through his nose— the scent comforting and reassuring.

"I'm fine, really. Just a bit sore and hungry," she tried to joke but even her voice sounded weak to her. She grabbed one of the potion—the pain relieving one—and drank it in one go, grimacing slightly at nasty taste. She then grabbed the red one and did the same, surprised to find the taste to not be that bad, only slightly dry and like rust. He smiled at her expression, his hand tracing invisible patterns on hers.

"I thought I lost you…" The words whispered so softly that she barely managed to hear him.

"Marcus…" her heart ached at the sorrow deep in his voice, wishing that everything that happened could be nothing more than a nightmare but it had happened. She had caused her husband, her son, her family, so much pain…"I'm so sorry…I'm so sorry…" She kept repeating while closing her eyes and letting her tears fall, startled when she felt her bed dip as a new weight settled next to her, her dear Marcus' arms wrapped tight around her, his warm, soft lips pressed against her dry and cold ones.

"Don't apologize. There is nothing you have to be sorry for, love. I love you, Lils, just please don't scare me like that," he chuckled but there was no mirth, silent tears running down his exhausted and shadowed face; and she kissed him, her tears joining his and they stayed like that—sharing small kisses, whispering sweet nothings, and simply taking comfort in each other's presence and warmth.

After a few minutes, they finally disentangled from each other, both wearing soft, loving smiles. "I should go tell the good news to the others, especially Hadrian. I will send back Holly with your meal, so please don't exert yourself while I'm gone." He placed a last chaste kiss on her lips before exiting the room.

Living Room

Demetri watched as Hadrian paced around the room, a frown etched on his pale face while his hands clenched the glass of wine Grandfather had thrust on him to calm his nerves; still full even after two hours of pacing. Demetri himself was given a glass of wine but unlike his cousin he had drank all of it and now he was feeling the effects, his eyes feeling drowsy and he just wanted to close his eyes...

Hadrian stopped pacing for a second, turning to look at Demetri only to find his cousin asleep and cuddling against his mother. He smiled fondly at the childish display from his usually mature acting cousin but it did not last, his concern for his dear mother at the forefront of his mind. To try to distract himself he looked at the rest of his family, imprinting their faces in his memory to forever cherish and remember. His mother's sudden death was a cruel reminder that they were all mortal, vulnerable to sickness, accidents…Death…

He clenched his hands and closed his eyes tightly to keep at bay the tears that threatened to fall; not daring to let his self have another emotional breakdown in front of his family. No matter how much he loves all of them, he could not allow himself be so vulnerable in front of them. He opened his eyes and was thankful no tears fell.

He first looked at his grandfather, his tall and imposing figure still carrying grace and power even at his advanced age, having celebrated his ninety-eighth birthday. But he had surely aged well even for someone with magic for he still had some black strands among his snowy white hair that he always kept in a low ponytail. His eyes were still sharp and hard in their navy gaze, only settling to a calm ocean blue when gazing at Grandmother and his grandchildren. Only a few wrinkles marred his spotted face while surprisingly still spry and fast on his feet if his yearly duels with his sons were anything to tell. And his grandmother Helena, only a decade younger than Grandfather, had aged as well if not better than her husband had. Her greying hair still held a third of the golden blond strands Uncle Lucian inherited, always kept in a loose but fashionable bun, her earth colored eyes still as sharp and penetrating when needed but loving and wise when with loved ones. Few wrinkles decorated her face, ones showing her love for laughter and fun; her figure still slender and graceful although she now had some trouble to stay standing for long periods.

He then turned his gaze to his Uncle Viktor, only three years younger than his father, and father to Demetri and Tristan. Like Hadrian's father, he had inherited most of his features from Grandfather with the exception of his eyes, having inherited the same earth colored eyes of Grandmother with the contrast of said eyes always being hard and frigid towards everyone. He was the shortest of all of his uncles standing at a still respectable 5'9; his figure more muscled than Father did but not overly so. And his wife, Aunt Catherine, the sole heiress to the minor but still Noble House of Selwyn, was a petite and fair-haired woman; the light and warmth to her husband's dark and coldness. She stood at a petite 5'4, her honey, brown hair falling in perfect curls down to the middle of her back, and her dark grey eyes always shining with love and kindness. How she and Uncle Viktor came to love and marry each other is still a mystery to Hadrian but the love they each held for the other, while understated, was still there.

Demetri was their eldest son, sharing Hadrian's same age and an almost exact replica of his father with the exception of hi soft grey –almost silver—eyes. He was Hadrian's best friend and confidant… the closest thing to a brother he will ever have. He was a serious child, focusing more on his studies for his future as Lord Selwyn, having inherited the title of heir apparent since he was the eldest male descendant to Lord Selwyn. Only when Hadrian pushed him to have fun and act like the child he was did he let go of the responsibilities that weighed him down, his partner in crime, but also the person that kept him in check and stopped him from his most outrageous and dangerous pranks and little 'adventures'. His little brother was Tristan. He was four years old and had inherited all his features from the Selwyn line. His hair was straight and a honey brown, the tips of his hair reaching his little shoulders, his eyes a liquid amber inherited from his maternal grandmother, Lady Selwyn. He was short for his age unlike their other cousins but Hadrian thinks it is because he inherited everything from mother, including the short stature. Tristan was a generally well-behaved child if a little bit shy, preferring only to talk with those he was close with; the reason he was mostly excluded from the rest of pureblood children his age group. That Tristan reminded him fondly of his godson Teddy was only a coincidence and although they both looked quite alike, their personalities set them apart and never would Trys be a replacement for Teddy; he was the little brother he always wished his parents could give him.

He then turned his green gaze to his favorite set of uncles.

Uncle Lucien, only a year younger than Uncle Viktor, was the spitting image of his mother, only inheriting the Corvinus sharp cheekbones and tall height, standing at an impressive 6'1. He always kept his hair short, the ends barely reaching the nape of his neck, his earth colored eyes only slighter darker than Grandmother's, holding in them great intelligence and sharpness that contrasted with his easy-going personality and at times, aloofness. His husband and mate Michael was one of the few rare half-blooded male veelas, his father the Lord to the Ancient and Noble House of Mercier in France. Although a categorized 'submissive', he was headstrong and quite assertive, his word the last in any matter pertaining his daughter and son. Contrary to most veelas who favored a more fair haired and pale skin tone, Michael had a warm tan and dark brown hair cut in a similar fashion to his mate's hair. His eyes were an icy blue, holding in them kindness, warmth, and love for all his family. He stood at an average 5'8, his face delicate and all soft angles, and his personality very easy-going and caring.

Izabelle was the eldest daughter and the eldest of all of Hadrian's cousins at the age of fifteen. She had inherited most of her features from the Corvinus bloodline, her dark hair falling in perfect ringlets to the bottom of her spine, her dark blue eyes holding in them kindness, warmth, and hidden mischievousness. She was average in height at 5'5, her skin a creamy golden with no imperfections, only adding to her allure since she was born half a veela to the surprise of her 'mother' but she generally dressed conservatively to try to lessen her allure and beauty; not that it helped any. She was very intelligent and smart, holding first place in all her classes at Beauxbatons. Izabelle also tended to be the 'mother' of their group, always making sure that they were all well behaved and did not come to harm. Isaac was her thirteen-year-old brother and like Izabelle, he had some of a veela's allure and to a lesser extent, beauty. He was tall for his age at 5'2, had his mother's dark brown hair and icy blue eyes but unlike his mother's lean build, he had the beginnings of a stockier physique. Isaac is certainly a very bright and intelligent child but preferred to do the bare minimum in his schooling, only focusing his efforts in perfecting his quiddich skills as a beater. His personality was very laidback and at times lazy but when it came to family he was quick to defend and protect. Hadrian also shared a close bond with them, not as close as with Demetri or Tristan but he could trust with some of his secrets.

He then turned his attention to what he considered, secretly, his least favorite uncle; Aunt Elizabeth he liked well enough but Uncle William was just someone Hadrian found hard to get along with and trust as he did with his other aunts and uncles. Nevertheless, family is family and William was someone that Hadrian would protect and cherished despite their differences.

Uncle William was the youngest of the four brothers at twenty-eight years old and was the self-proclaimed 'black sheep' of the family. He was the perfect mix between both of his parents; his face holding the sharp cheekbones, sculptured nose, and the cat-like, upturned eyes of the Corvinus and the thin lips, straight eyebrows, and long lashes of the Carrows. He stood at an exact 6'0, his dark black hair holding earth and indigo colored highlights, always kept in a low ponytail to keep it out of the way. His eyes were an ocean blue, changing from deep angry blue when angered and light, sky blue when happy and excited. His personality is the reason he gave himself the moniker of 'black sheep'; he was always carefree, held no respect for manners and rules, and was always up to some mischievousness. He was also the only Corvinus in centuries to have married a muggle-born witch, and although the family had accepted his decision, all of society condemned him for it and so he set himself to act in a very non-pureblood way when he could get away with it from his father. It explained the cruelness of his more humiliating pranks but the family is spared of such treatment, having accepted Elizabeth into the family warmly and with kindness. His wife Elizabeth was the daughter of a minor muggle Lord, and although a first generation witch, she was still a well renowned Charms Mistress. She had auburn colored haired that fell in waves to the middle of her back, her eyes a warm amber that shined with intelligence and sharp wit. In contrast to her husband's character, she was a stickler for rules, strict, and serious in all manners. She was in charge of her keeping her childish husband and rambunctious, twin daughters in line.

Like their father, Maya and Iris, both nine years old, were troublemakers. They are identical twins and most of the family is unable to distinct one from the other, only Hadrian, Isaac, and surprisingly Tristan too, are able to tell one twin from the other apart from their parents. Both had inherited their mother's auburn hair although in a much darker tone and always styled in a French braid. They had Uncle William's grey-blue eyes but in a darker shade, were the only ones to have freckles but that only made them look so much cuter and able to use their enchantments to get out of trouble when caught doing a prank. They were both average in height for their age, were very intelligent and clever, and used said skills to plan and strategize to a successful degree, their pranks. Both were very energetic, happy, and rambunctious girls and very much alike in both appearance and personality but Hadrian had spent enough time with them to know some differences between Maya and Iris. Like the fact that Maya was the one that always thought ahead and made the scheming for their pranking but Iris was the twin to research what spells they would use and able to strategize the uses said spells could have if used correctly. They were the cousins he went to when Hadrian felt the need to cause some mayhem and needed some partners in crime.

At last, he turned his attention to Roselyn, his eyes softening as he watched as she napped next to Tristan, both taking warmth and comfort from the other even in their sleep. Hadrian frowned when he did not see her mother in the room, eyes glaring at nothing at yet another show of Diane's shortcomings as both a mother and a member of House Corvinus.

Little Roselyn was like a porcelain doll, delicate and very fragile. She was the exact replica of her deceased father, Lukas. Her hair was a light, almost white blond, cut in hime style, her almond shaped eyes colored a light hazel, with her cheeks always colored a rosy pink, her nose slightly upturned at the end; all in all she looked very much like a living doll. She was only six years old and was short for her age, looking more like a four-year old. She was a very shy and meek child and easily frightened, having spent most of her early childhood with her older cousins on her father's side that were at the least a decade older than her. Hadrian also suspected her mother to be a cause of her extreme shyness and meek personality, having witnessed as Diane harshly scolded her child for insignificant things. He is just glad he had brought his suspicions unto Grandfather and the older man had immediately ordered his widowed daughter to return to live at the manor where she is monitored and kept in line for the most part, after all, she is a grown woman.

Hadrian sighed, feeling himself -like the rest of his cousins- start to succumb to exhaustion the stress of having his mother die and 'unexpectedly' come back alive, caused. He slumped on the armchair farthest away from the rest, feeling the stress, worry, anger, grief, and his many other emotions starting to come together and wanting to explode outwards. So far, Hadrian had kept his storming emotions in a tight leash, waiting until he was in the comfort and privacy of his room to deal with them. However, it was hard, very, very hard, his mental shields barely able to keep the storming emotions at bay after still having to keep his regained memories from wrecking his mind.

He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing in disgust at himself because dammit, never since his Hogwarts years did he feel as powerless and weak as he did now. His magic, although powerful and his reserves large for a child his age, were nothing in comparison to the powerful and potent magic he had wielded in the prime of his power in his original world. Of course, his current body was too young and weak to be able to survive the input of his complete magical power, as it should have happened the moment the barrier had been broken. However, thanks to Her, Hecate's, interference, was only a third of his entire magic able to transfer to his current body; the rest of his magic sealed by the Goddess herself until his body was able to stand all his magic without repercussions. He got the impression he would be able to unsealed his magic whenever he wanted to but he does not. Because as much as he hated being as weak as he knows he is now, Hadrian perfectly understands that he cannot push his young body to such extremes otherwise he runs the risk of destroying his body or worst yet, losing his magic in his foolish and idiotic attempts of growing more powerful. He is not Voldemort, thank you very much.

He slumped deeper into the armchair, growing increasingly frustrated by the passing minutes of Healer Johnson not coming out to give them news about his mother. Hadrian knows his mother is alive, of that he is completely confident, what has him worried and nervous is the condition her body is in. Hadrian had so far only brought back to life two people in his previous world and not once was he completely successful. He worries about what type of payment Death would demand from Hadrian or, worse yet, from his mother. Please, Mother, protect her. I beg of you, please keep her safe.

When he saw the healer he did not crowd or demand answers, perfectly able to hear him say his mother was, if a little weak from blood loss and magical exhaustion, in perfect health. Hadrian was tempted to cry in relief but he managed to simply close his eyes and give thanks to the Great Goddess that his mother was fine, alive and healthy as can be. He could now breathe a little easier knowing that everything was back to how it was supposed to be, his mother alive and with him; she had not abandoned him as she had done.

"Hadrian" Demetri walked towards Hadrian, ignoring as everyone else gave a large sigh of relief that Aunt Lilith was alive and well. His cousin did not answer him, head bowed and hands clasped together as if praying. He said nothing else, just giving comfort and strength to his cousin by simply being at his side; he had a feeling Hadrian did not him to be over-bearing, just needed a silent companion and someone from whom to gather strength from, Demetri knows that if it was he in Hadrian's place that was all he would want.

Demetri shook his cousin out of his trance when Uncle Marcus came in, reassured that everything was fine when his uncle could not contain his happiness and relief, wielding a large smile and eyes suspiciously glistening.

"Lilith is fine."

Everyone –with the exception of the twins, Roselyn, and Tristan since they were still asleep— let out sighs of relief, looking like a great weight had been lifted from their shoulders. Because even though the healer himself had said so himself, coming from their own family member made the news more real, more reassuring.

"She is just suffering from blood loss and magical exhaustion but nothing that some time and rest cannot cure. Right now she just needs to rest and not exert herself too much."

Hadrian along with Demetri watched from the sidelines as all the adults crowded his father, listening as his father explained what exactly happened to his mother and the complete recovery she would make. Hadrian frowned as he listened along, feeling as if his father wasn't telling the complete truth and was leaving something out.

"Aren't you going to ask him to see your mother?" Demetri leaned on the wall, hands on his pockets and little smile on his face; as if he had not been beyond worried and concerned moments ago like the rest of the room.

Hadrian shook his head in response, face emotionless to hide the turmoil he was feeling inside. What exactly had been the price for his mother's life? Worry and dread coiled in his stomach at what sacrificed was worth his mother's life.

"—drian. Hadrian!"

"Yes?" Hadrian looked up and locked gazes with his father. Marcus frowned lightly at his son's detached voice but it most likely was Hadrian suffering from shock after seeing his mother die; he was still a child after all. Marcus could only guess just how he must have felt after seeing his mother lay on a pool of her own blood, cold and lifeless.

"Son, everything is alright now-she is fine." His father squeezed his shoulder in comfort and Hadrian wanted to laugh because his father thought he was in shock over his mother's death. How could he tell him that he was already used to death, to losing loved ones, to the despair and grief Death brought waith each life taken…?

"I know dad," he gave him a smile, "it's just that—"

"I know son, I know…She wants to see you so why don't you go to her room."

"I will dad. Thanks." Hadrian hugged his father, giving Demetri a smile to reassure him that he was fine before making his way to his mother's room. He was…

Knock! Knock!

"Come in."

Lilith smiled when her son entered her room at last; engulfing him in a tight embrace-or as tightly as she can while feeling so weak and sore- tears falling from her eyes as it finally hit her just close she came to losing her son. Her beautiful, intelligent, smart, and wonderful son; whom she had so selfishly abandoned if only for the few minutes she was dead. Her heart ached as she felt him shake in her arms, sobbing so heartbrokenly and she hated herself for it. She had caused this!

"I'm so sorry. Please, I am so sorry sweetie. Please forgive me," she pleaded him as she, too, cried, holding onto him tightly; fearing that at any moment, he could disappear from her arms, from her life…

Hadrian had hesitated before entering the room, half of him wanting nothing more than to get as far away from his mother, fearing at what could be waiting for him on the other side; remembering quite clearly what had happened the last time he had brought back to life someone he had loved. The results had been horrifying, giving him nightmares for weeks afterwards and he had not been able to bear to try again, to try to have at least one of his loved ones with him back from the Beyond.

However, another part of him -that part of him that remained from his younger self- cried out for his mother. Wanted to see with his own eyes that she was safe and whole, that she had not grotesquely paid for his own mistake, regardless that for the first time it had worked perfectly, or so it seemed. Therefore, he had gathered himself and knocked, his heart beating erratically at hearing her sweet and melodic voice.

For half a second he stood still, taking in the image of his mother, vibrant with life, arms spread wide open in wait for him…

Hadrian ran to her, clutching her like a lifeline, crying like the child he physically was. He did not hear as his mother apologized, simply letting his emotions out like he had not done in years, bathing in the warmth and comfort of his mother's embrace. Minutes later, emotionally exhausted and blushing in embarrassment and shame at his emotional breakdown, Hadrian finally parted from his mother, sitting in the chair beside her bed.

"There is no shame in crying, honey. It takes strength to show one-self vulnerable in front of those we love." Lilith smiled gently at her son, clearly seeing the shame he felt in having cried like the child he was. Her smile turned somewhat sad. It was one of the reasons she sometimes detested her son's position as heir and only child. He had to grow too quickly, never enjoying his childhood properly as he had to learn of his future responsibilities from both his father and grandfather personally, without having to add that he had to keep up with his studies with his tutors, perfection always demanded of him. Hadrian's only reprieve from his demanding schedule were the few and far in between visits from his cousins, finally able to joke and run wild like the child he was—still is—with them.

Hadrian cleared his throat in further embarrassment but his mother's words stuck to him, making him remember all t hose times where his loved ones pleaded him to trust them, not with his life—for they already had it—but with his emotions and feelings, leading him to confide in them, to let himself be vulnerable to them. He looked at his dearest mother, both of his hands holding tenderly her pale hand, and then leaned over her still weak form and placed a soft and loving kiss on her forehead, keeping still in said position for what seemed like an eternity, lips in a straight line and eyes squeezed closed to stop another onslaught of tears.

"I love you, mom."

Lilith watched confused and startled as her son walked away, closing the door with a definite bang that seemed to echo throughout her room. She touched where he had kissed her, softly tracing the spot. What had she said that had garnered such a response from Hadrian? Did she say something wrong? She sighed, only to blush when her empty stomach let out an embarrassing sound, calling out for food.

*Crack*

"Holly be bringing Mistress Lils her dinner."

"Thank you, Holly—she expertly ignored the elf's dramatic tears of happiness—but can you please tell my brother to please come visit."

"Holly be's bringing Master Cloud right away, Mistress." Holly did not wait for a response before with a crack disappearing and appearing again but this time with a companion.

"Lilith."

"Brother."

AN: I was supposed to have this posted on Monday, Monday! But I kept changing things, trying to make it 'perfect' (I am my worst critic) but it was never enough so I simply let it write itself out however it wanted to come out and here it is. I hope the length of the chapter more than makes up for the long delay…But I wanted to try my hand at longer chapters so I hope it was worth the wait.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!