A/N: Sooo, here we go, another chapter. Please review! Also, this is the very last one of my pre-written chapters, meaning that the next one isn't fully written yet, and it will take a while before it gets published, but hopefully nto more than a few weeks depending on amount of homework etc

Horace Somnusson

Alma LeFay Peregrine looked down at the thin paper sheets in her hands, and then up at the huge estate infront of her, comparing the adresses and double checking that she was in the right place. Today, she was otu on a mission that was like nothign she had ever done before.

She was visiting a young married couple who had used contacts in the peculiar world to come in contact with an older Ymbryne named Miss Finch, desperately begging for her to try and help their son. In the letter from them that Miss Finch gave to Alma, they had not specify any details about their son or his presumed peculiarity, but Alma was fully prepared to bring the boy with her home at the end of the day. Sadly, not many peculiars had the luxury of staying with their families for very long.

With a last sigh and still trying to kill the butterflies flittering around in her stomach, Alma stepped up to the door and knocked on its wooden surface. The effect was immediate, and within moments she heard feet moving across the floor on the other side, a squeamish girl voice calling out.

"Coming, just a moment!"

As promised, a moment later a black haired girl dressed in a servant's uniform appeared in the doorway. She looked young, hardly more than fifteen or sixteen, certainly not older than eighteen, and for some reason she seemed to recognise Alma as she immidiatly ushered her inside the house.

"You must be Miss Finch! Mr and Mrs have been waiting for you!" She spoke fast and with a distinctly non-english accent, continuing before Alma had an opportunity to correct her. "Just wait here for a while, I'll go get Mr and Mrs. They've been looking forward to meeting you!"

"Alright, I will." Alma said, her manners forgotten as she felt slightly dazed. The day had already been quite long, as she had to travel all the way to London from Wales before reaching the Somnusson estate, and now, being assumed to be Miss Finch, she realised that she was sure to have a long day infront of her still .

Sometime being an Ymbryne ment that you simply had to go beyond your own limitations and do more than you thought you could in order to ensure comfort and happiness for the peculiars around you.

"Excuse me, are you Miss Finch? The woman who has care of peculiar children?" A young woman's voice spoke up from behind her, and before turning around, Alma allowed herself to roll her eyes at the woman who she was yet to meet. It was highly un-lady like to do so, of course, but the woman's question deserved such a reaction. The woman who has care of peculiar children. That's what they all were, all twelve Ymbrynes who, along with their loops, were currently located somewhere within Great Britain. They were women who had care of peculiar children.

"Alma LeFay Peregrine, a pleasure to meet you." Ignoring the woman's earlier question, Alma turned around and introduced herself, concluding that it was better to start off on a clean slot and clear up the clear missunderstanding that had already occured.

"Excuse me…Miss Peregrine was it? I'm Mrs Somnusson. And I don't think… we were expecting a Miss Finch… not some other bird!" The woman smiled, laughing nervously as she carefully grabbed Alma's hand and shock it. Mrs. Somnusson was a blonde, blue eyed woman in her thirties who had dressed in a fluttery summer dress and heavy jewelry. She was a clear trophy wife, probably to a much older husband, and a type of person Alma normally wasn't very fond of, but she tried not to judge her.

She was here to he,p a child, not to look down at it's parents.

"I am very well aware you were expecting my sister, not me, but seeing as she is retired from her craft, she asked me to come in her stead." She explained, and though the woman seemed less confused, Alma could see she was still hesitant, maybe not really believing Alma's story.

"Well, alright...I suppose if you can do what your sister would have done, and help our Horace, than you're more than welcome." The woman sighed quietly, giving Alma a polite smiel before turning to walk up the stairs. "Come this way, I'll show you to Horace's room."

Alma nodded and followed suit. She hadn't quite known what to expect when she first arrived at the estate. Few parents actively sought out help for their peculiar children, and fewer yet actually reached someone who could help them. When she came in, she had been prepared to bring the boy with her home, but based off what she'd seen from , she was starting to hope that maybe it wouldn't be neccesary. Maybe, just maybe, this boy could be one of the few peculiars who got to have a happy ever after with their family.

"So, can you tell me some about Horace peculiarity? The letter you sent did not contain many details." She asked politely, in all honesty feeling quite curious. She had spent the trip from Wales to London trying to figure it out, but found it impossible. Peculiarities came in as many variations as there were people on Earth, and each peculiarity could come out in thousands of different shapes and forms. There simply was no guessing if you didn't know already.

"He has prophetic dreams of the future. They torment him, making themselves known in the form of nightmares that chase him even when he's not sleeping." A tall, proud man met them at the top of the stairs, and from the way seemed to gravitate towards him, Alma assumed that he was the boy's father, her husband.

"It's only gotten worse this few years, and we're at loss for what to do. We can't hide it anymore, not when it can come over at a moments notice, and there simply is no explaining what happens to him. People would assume him to be crazy!" The woman pitched in, trying to be helpful but getting a critical eye from her husband.

"My wife is making it sound worse than it is. I am sure there will be something you can do to help him. To cure him." The man smiled an encouraging smile, but Alma felt herself unable to answer it as she realised what he was saying. "Is there an issue, Miss Finch?" His question question was polite, bot she could see the concern in his eyes as he looked at her.

"First of all, I am not Miss Finch, neither the older nor the younger one. My name is Alma LeFay Peregrine, and I was sent here in my retired sisters stead." Alma was starting to get frustrated, disliking the fact that her sister had not warned the family that she was sending someone else in her stead, but tried to move on regardless. "Second of all, I can't cure your son, it's impossible. Being a syndrigast comes from a recessive gene carried down through families, randomly appearing in some of the children in some generations. You can learn to handle it, but not cure it."

"You can't make it….go away? He's going to...going to be like this, for the rest of his life? " exclaimed desperatly, her hands clapped over her mouth and terrified eyes moving between Alma and her husband, who seemed to have frozen in shock.

"I, ah, I can't say for certain. I have never seen a peculiare whose abilities has disappeared, though they may become less intense. It's very individual really, and it's hard for me to know when I haven't met your son." Alma quickly backtracked, scared that she would be doing both they boy and herself an un-favour if she continued her line of thought. It wasn't like she was lying, anyway, as every case was indeed individual, and the symptoms described was rather non-descriptive for a peculiarity

"Of course." The man smiled, eyes sharp and dangerous. His kind and polite manner was blown away, and Alma felt herself become vary. When she first came to the house they had seemed like understanding and loving parents, but now she wasn't so sure. "Lucy, will you show her to Horace room?" He glanced over at his wife, who gulped nervously and nodded.

"Of course dear. This way, Miss Peregrine." 'Lucy' turned to walk away, heading down the hallway and waving for Alma to follow her. She obeyed, of course, if only for the sake of the peculiar boy contained within the estate, and used the drawn out moments of silence as they walked to gather her composure. Lucy was obviously too scared to talk, and Alma felt nervous- she wasn't that experienced, and she had gotten a hard case to work with.

"Here it is. Please be nice to my son, he.." Lucy didn't finish the sentence, for as she opened the door, they were faced with a sight that Alma was sure would come to haunt her for years to come.

In a chair by the window, there was a tiny boy. He was hardly more than twelve or thirteen, skinny with dark green eyes and blonde hair. He was dressed up in a full suite, and at the moment of their entry he was sitting rigid in the chair and staring out into nothingness, a silent scream on his lips.

"Oh no, not again! Horace!" His mother ran up to him immediately, desperatly embracing her motionless son and whispering things in his ear, that Alma assumed was ment to help birng him out of his stupour, but didn't appear to have any immidiate effect.

For a few minutes, that's how they stayed. Alma stood by the door, watching how the mother kept trying to interact with her non-responsive child, and 'Lucy' kept trying to bring her son out of his stupor with little result. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the boy screamed, quickly coming to life and instinctively trying to free himself from his mother.

"Horace it's alright!" She exclaimed, desperately trying to hold on tightly to her son. "It's just me, you're mother. Everythig's alright!"

"I know! It wasn't that bad mom!" The boy protested, finally succeeding in getting free from his mother's grip. "It wasn't that bad...not this time...just what we're getting for lunch." Despite this, the boy saged in his chair, tired and lifeless as if having the vision physically drained him, which it might as well have.

"Alright, if it was just lunch…" His mother responded hesitantly, letting go. Then she looked at Alma, as if though just now remembering she was there. "Oh! Horace, this is Miss Peregrine. She's here to help you with her nightmares. Just, be nice and behave okay? I'll be in the livingroom."

She smiled at the boy, who smiled back, nodding in acknowledgement of what his mother was saying, but not actually answering her. didn't seem to mind, though, as she gave Alma another comforting smile and ran out the door, leaving her alone with her son.

After they had been left alone, Alma wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do. She wanted to ask the boy about his abilities, trying to gather details, but he seemed so tired, and she wasn't sure if he would be able to..

"You're going to sit down on my bed, either now or in five minutes. Your going to ask me about my talent. I already know you're going to do it, so go ahead." The boy, Horace, smiled, and Alma did as he said. As an Ymbryne she wasn't used to be given orders, beside those from other Ymbrynes, but this case wasn't normal and as such Alma listened.

"Seem you are more prepared for this meeting than me." Miss Peregrine said in all seriousness, attempting a loopsided smile but failing miserably. She was rarely good at the emotional bit of social interactions (though many people she knew begged to differ) and when she did made it work, it ran on pure instinct and impulsiveness. "But now, if I'm to help you, I need to know what I'm dealing with. Details, please."

The boy sigh, a matureness and depth appearing in his eyes, which did not match his age. In a way, it reminded her of Enoch and his extreme maturity and bitterness, but this was softer and warmer and more welcoming.

"I've been having my dreams since I was six years old. I'm thirteen, almost fourteen now. I told my parents of them when I was eight or ten. I don't remember exactly, but it was around there I started to dream when I wasn't asleep, too, and couldn't hide it anymore." the boy explained, the tiredness disappearing from his features and his back straightening. "I've been dreaming of you since I was eleven."

"Of me?" She knew she shouldn't have been surprised, it was more than obvious the boy had at least one dream of her, but she was still a bit shocked. Three years was a long time, and it was almost creepy to imagaine someone having known of her for three before she even met them. "But how did you know it was going to be me, and not Miss Finch? She's who your parents sent after."

The boy laughed, a small smile on his face. "Good one. I didn't. There was two scenarios, one where the visitor was a frail, elderly woman with a Finch on her shoulder, and one where you came instead."

"So it was either me, or Miss Finch and her aunt?" Alma asked, trying to wrap her head around the concept, but thinking she understood what he was saying. The boy, though, was obviously not understanding what she was saying, furrowing his brow and getting a confused look on his face as she asked her control question.

"No" He protested, perplexed and frowning. "There weren't two people. It was either you, or the other woman with a bird on her shoulder."

"But...you said she had Finch on her shoulder?"

"Yes, so?" The boy shrugged, clearly not seeing the issue. That's when it hit Alma. The boy had been so commanding, had seem to know so much about her, that she had started to talk with him as if he knew of the inner workings of peculiar society. Only he didn't. He acted as if he did, because his dreams provided him with details, but in large he knew very little of anything peculiar and Alma had forgotten that.

"The bird is Miss Finch aunt, Miss Finch. Our peculiarity, me and them, it's being able to turn into a bird, as well as manipulate time. The older Miss Finch always prefered staying in her bird form, which was just as well, really, for she was never much of a conversationalist." She hurried to explain, feeling embarrassed. The workings of an Ymbryne´'s peculiarity was such a common knowledge that she had forgot the boy couldn't possibly know, as he wasn't a part of their community yet,

"Oh" The boy's face opened up in surprise and joy, but soon faded into sudden shyness. "Does that mean you become a falcon? A Peregrine falcon, like your name? "

There was something about the way the boy now looked at her that made her uneasy. His gaze was sharp and focused and she could imagine the boy picking her apart in his mind, dissectign her in order to fidn the falcon that she was supposed to be able to turn into. She didn't know what to do, and felt as though she suddenly was the child, not him.

If he wants to see that falcon so badly, maybe you should show him the falcon.

It was a preposterous thought, she knew, and any Ymbryne older and wiser than her would immediately have written it off. But not her. She was young and unaccustomed and entirely overpowered by a thirteen year old peculiare with powers that wasn't like anything she had ever seen before.

"Boy, do you want to see something amazing?" She looked at him challengingly, narrowing her eyes and avoiding blinking, knowing very well how bird-like it made her look, and she could see the boy smile. It was hesitant and a little scared, but it was there.

"Yes." The boy breathed, no longer picking her apart with his gaze. "But only if you use my name and call me Horace." There was giddiness in his voice, anticipation and curiousity. Alma knew he would make her show him her 'amazing secret' even if she didn't agree to call him by his name, but figured it was only fair to do that anyway.

"Alright, Horace. I will show you. But you must promise one thing." She let her voice drop, made sure he understood the importance of her condition.

"Anything!" Horace breathed, excited and overjoyed. "Absolutely anything!"

"When I show for you to do so, you must hold up my dress. It will all make sense then, trust me." She said, seeing the slight confusion on his face but getting a determined nod still. She know she was makign it otu to look very dramatic, but it was infact very important. She couldn't imagaine the reactions she'd get if Horace's parents came back and found her naked in the room with their son. It owuld be catastrophical.

"Yes." He answered, and she took it as her que. Stretching, extending her limbs and straightening her back until they were all tense and shaking with effort, she let her head fall backwards and and allowed the primal instincts at her core to take over, making her body transform until there was nothing human left except the dark blue dress resting in a heap on the floor beneath her claws.

She felt free, freer than she ever did as a human. It felt like it was this form she had always been meant to have, and that the human part of her was simply a mistake that was never meant to be. It was at times like this that she understood why Miss Finch preferred to stay a Finch, though she could never consider such a thign herself.

"Remarkable! You really did turn into a falcon. A Peregrine falcon!" The boy's gleeful shouts brought her back to reality, and forced Alma to focus. She didn't turn into a bird for her own enjoyment, after all, even if it did feel good to let go of her human attributes.

With a loud screech, she swept around the room in a perfect circular pattern. Wings flapping and feathers brushing against the walls in every turn, she watched as the boy followed her around the room, now up on his feet and running around, faster and faster until she decided that the show was over and that he had seen enough.

Hope Horace remembers his promise

She dived down towards the dress, catchign some of the fabric in her beak and pulling at it to signal that she wanted him to lift it up. Thankfully, Horace understood what she wanted immediately. Running the few meters between him and the dress, he picked up the heavy dark blue garment and held it out in front of him.

"Promise I won't look." He said, clenching his eyes shut as she landed inside the dress, carefully reaching out and connecting herself with the human part of her mind, letting it back in control as she felt her body grow and fill out the dress more and more until she was standing there, looking like she never took it off.

"You can look now." She said, and the boy opened his eyes slowly, one by one just to make sure that it really was safe to do so, a precaution that made her laugh. He was such a little gentleman.

"That really was amazing. I mean, it was good in my dreams, but nothing beats reality!" Horace smiled, his eyes filled with awe and admiration at what he had just witnessed. "So when am I coming wiht you?"

"Excuse me?" She was shocked. They had gotten so distracted by the bird subject, that she had entirely forgotten that she was supposed to evaluate the boy and his peculiarity. Now, the boy was for some reason expecting her to bring him with her home, just like that."Who said you are coming with me?"

She had been prepared to bring the boy home, that much was true, but she only wanted to use it as a last resort, preferably letting him stay with his parents if possible.

"I've been dreaming of this since I was eleven. My parents think I only have nightmares, and while I do have a lot of them, I have good dreams too. Like the dreams of you and your family." His smile changed, it was smaller, more dreamlike than anything, and Alma felt herself smiling too. "I dream of a girl with fire at her fingertips, a boy who can resurrect the dead, and a girl with a mouth in the back of her head. Thsoe are your children, I know that, adn I know that I belong among them."

He was talking about all of her children, she realised. He was talking about Emma, and Enoch and...she didn't know who the girl with the mouth in the back of her head was, but she supposed she was a charge she would once come to have, a little child she hadn't met yet.

He dreamt about her home and her children, and about a future where it's his home and he's her child, too.

"You want to come with me." She said, and he nodded. There was such determination in his eyes, telling her that he wanted this more than anything. He was cursed and haunted by something, that no one in the normal world could ever hope to understand. Normal people couldn't grasp the idea of this great gift tah the had, what it gave him and what it took from him, it was a concept beoynd their understanding. If she left him here with his family, he would be doomed to a life of solitude and ozstaricaiton.

His only hope of an even remotely normal life, was to come with her.

"In that case, with you well-being in mind, I judge it necessary for you to come and live with me and my children in our home." She said it with all seriousness, but as Horace hugged her tight, she smiled, feeling her heart beat with empathy and love deep inside. It wasn't going to be easy to break it to his parents that she was taking their son away, but if any decision she had ever made was right, it was this one.