-x-

It was silent. Eerily so.

Buildings laid to waste with their broken cobble-stone spilling into the blood stained street of the once busy market. Bodies covered the area; limp and discarded among the rubble. Crimson seemed to drip from every broken corner, pooling along the grooves of the walkways and smearing along the dirty walls. It was truly an impossible vision; one thought to only exist within the imagination. Yet, here lie wizarding England. Or perhaps, what remained.

There was a period of stillness that settled over the decimated ruins of Magical England, as if anyone who survived was scared to speak. Was it over? Truly?
A piercing wail ripped through the night, and sound seemed to spill in all at instead of happy chatter and playing children, it was the earth shattering screams of those who had lost something- something that could never be returned.

It was the wails of the survivors and although they survived the war, truly surviving such loss of spirit remained to be seen.

-X-

The war may have ended, but the resulting destruction had carved its mark into everything Harry was.

He no long knew who he was without war, death, and struggle. Peace was too foreign to him, and now that some semblance of it had entered his life he found himself floundering in its presence. He had never truly known peace after-all. His life had always consisted of hardship and struggle; gritted teeth and one foot after another. Again, and again, and again.

After the final battle, Wizarding England was in shambles. The total population had depleted so severely that the community was left in a state of shock for days after the war was resolved. It had felt at that time as if normalcy was a concept they would never again be privy to. It was slow, painful, and everything had to be rebuilt- but a semblance of it had returned. And now six months after that day buildings were still being rebuilt and families were still healing, but it was happening. Jobs began again, the government started to gather themselves together, and people seemed to finally leave their homes. The remainder of the Death Eaters were systematically hunted and killed, but the amount left after the war were but a handful, and it had taken very little time for Harry to find them. It helped that he had thrown himself into the work rather quickly, stubbornly ignoring the fact he had just been in a war and his body screamed for rest.

He had felt off balanced since the final battle, and in a twisted way the hunt for the remaining Death Eaters had given himself an outlet. The thought made him wince though he did not try to ignore the truth behind the assertion. While others moved on in what looked like an effortless transition, Harry had been left behind and his life askew. Peace had always been something he thought he craved more desperately than anything else. Yet now that it was here he was grossly uncomfortable and left feeling as if he had never been more unsure of what he wanted. Reluctant though he was to admit it, the stillness had become unbearable and the brutal work of finding the last of the loyal Death Eaters had been something he executed perhaps quicker than he should have. His friends had each-other, a career path of their choosing, a family to fall back on; Harry had none of those. He was faced with the gut churning thought of his life and its lack of purpose, and felt as if he were drowning more in those months than he had in his entire life.

The contemplation of simply dedicating his life to the Auror force was dangerously tempting to his unsettled soul; however, he had worked far too tirelessly on embracing his wants and generating his own decisions within the recent years past. To give in to not only the temptation of a life planned for him but also the expectations of those around him was a path he may have considered once, however revolting the idea was now. He found himself too tired to go that road and while the ending of the war was unexpected, it also forced him to ponder something exceedingly more difficult than death: life. The notion was daunting to his shattered mind, and it took weeks before he was able to contemplate his future without feeling as if he would melt into panic.

At one point his reason to fight had been his friends, but the connection to those around him were no longer strong enough to allow himself to be a weapon. He had changed far too much; they had changed far too little. He didn't truly hate them, but he could no longer relate to them and that was perhaps far worse in its repercussions. They had fought this war with him and are rebuilding just the same, but their experiences seemed to do nothing to their maturity and he found them childish in a way he found infuriating. The determination to forget the war even occurred, conversations revolving around grades and quidditch…everything they said and represented was infantile at its core, and the realization that they felt young was an odd one. And if he were being honest ultimately they had chosen this fate- fighting this war. Harry? Harry had no choice- never had one from the moment he was born, and the thought had left him slightly bitter.

Regardless it all led down to one key fact- they had expectations for him just as the rest did and this fact truly stung. Even now they expected him to move on and keep on fighting, oddly blind to the fatigue and soul crushing uncertainty he knew could be seen in his eyes. They were supposed to know him the best, they knew what had happened in his life and they knew this war. So why?

Fuck.

Shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples he exhaled, slouching slightly in his seat. Harry had taken to spending an exceedingly large amount of time in his small home that was pleasantly isolated from wizarding civilization, and he reveled in it. It was calm; he could sit on his porch and watch the forest line as he sipped coffee and breathed in the cool air. It was perhaps the peace he had thought he wanted long ago, now knowing the desire actually represented a stable place to come back to. A home…how novel. Even now, he found himself struck silent at the thought of what was his- things only young Harry could ever dream of.

Harry had only found out he had a significant amount of money after the war, and it had stunned him for days when he had found the documents. Apparently he had a great deal of estates and money, as well as a dizzying list of investments in countless businesses. The revelation had brought an endless amount of headaches but he had ultimately sold every one of his shareholdings and no one could convince him otherwise. He had no desire to maintain them; he truly wasn't even sure he wanted to be in England anymore quite honestly.

Not in England anymore…

Eyes narrowing he sat up, stretching until he heard a pop and turning on his heal to open the front door. Closing the door behind him he cast a glance at his home and saw a nice warm space despite its extremely sparse personal items. He felt uncomfortable by clutter and nick-nacks, something assuredly from his childhood. A lot of his quirks related to his living space came from his childhood if he were to be honest with himself.

Placing the mug he held on the counter silently, he exhaled as tan hands gripped the smooth wooden edge and bowed his head. He could, couldn't he? Leave? Things would have to prepared; the rest of his assets other than maybe one family house liquidated and his house seats given representation. Green eyes peered through slitted lids as he shook his head, straightening his back and shifting to lean his hip on the counter. It was possible of course, but he would have to do it quietly and cut his ties to the Auror force. This could prove to be easy or incredibly hard, depending largely on if he executed it smoothly enough. There would be protests and outrage, for sure, but he was counting on Shacklebolt understanding his reasons. Furthermore no one had any right to make him stay anyway, although he would rather this be as quiet and stealthy as possible. The wizarding world liked him at this moment but after that revelation? Who knew what they would believe they had the authority to do.

The thought wasn't a pleasant one, but he understood the reality of his situation none-the-less. He truly would not be surprised if the sheep tried to take some kind of ridiculous legal action, but he would rather it didn't get to that point.

"Ugh." He groaned, staring at the ceiling and absently tracing the grain of the wood with tired eyes. This was certainly not the first time he had contemplated this, but the want for it was so much stronger now. Was he really considering this? What about Ron? Hermione?

What about them, his mind whispered rather maliciously, too busy trying to pretend the war never happened and trying to see him date.

Grimicing he rubbed his head as a pounding sensation began to surface, spreading along his temple. Even before the war ended he had been distant and aloof with Ron and Hermione. He was grossly uncomfortable by their presence at this point, always making comments on how he should stop living in the past and "finally marry Ginny". It wasn't as if the girl was unattractive but Merlin she just felt so young he couldn't even stomach the thought of being with her let alone spending a life with her. Her eyes always looked a certain way whenever he was near, and it made his entire body stiffen.

There was a moment in time where her presence did something to him, however slight, and he had found comfort in her supposed affection. But the more time passed the more he saw what he once thought was love, and began to recognize it for what it was: a fantasy. She didn't love him, and while he had no real experience in the emotion he knew she didn't hold that for him- not really. She was infatuated with what he represented, and he avoided being in her presence since he had begun to understand this. He had almost allowed himself to give in, being so sadly desperate for affection, but he knew that he was right. She knew nothing of him and his soul, and she truly never tried. The longest conversation they had had in the last two years was about his assets.

He rolled his eyes at the thought, tensing a bit when he felt the ward warp and inform him of something with no harmful intentions entering its field. Closing his eyes he searched for who it could be before feeling the warm core of Hedwig. With an absent hum, he started to his study where he knew she would perch herself. Perhaps she had something for him?

Steps quiet, he turned the corner to the dimly lit hallway and found his way to his study's door. Opening it he heard his beloved owl give a hoot, and a ghost of a smile pulled at his lips without his permission. If anyone had witnessed it they would have been surprised, considering after he had been taken and tortured the first time before the war had really started his capability for visual emotion had been limited. But this was Hedwig, and if there were one presence he adored it was hers. Harry didn't know what he would have done without her all this time- her existence had given him so much peace during the war and long before it as well. However he did wonder who could possibly be contacting him, given that he had accepted no letter correspondence from anyone other than bank statements for months. Hedwig was exceptional after-all- she knew who he wished to speak to and not, so she must have felt he would be interested in this letter.

Eyes narrowing at the parchment in thought he walked over to her and gave a delicate scratch to her head. Hooting in affection she butted her head against his calloused hand, and Harry felt a surge of emotion at the gesture. He truly was so lucky to have her.

"Something for me Hed?" He asked softly and at her affirmative hoot he gently took the letter from her beak, giving her another itch under her soft chin.

"I'll give you a bit of bacon in a second." Harry murmured, slightly distracted due to him flipping the letter on its front. He heard her make an agreeing sound as his finger ran over the ink, recognizing the hand writing of Minister Shacklebolt. What now he thought with an eye roll, seating himself comfortably in his chair and feeling the warm weight of Hedwig settle on his shoulder.

Ripping the top he slid the heavy parchment out of its envelope, unfolding the thick paper as he leaned further back in his chair. A dark brow rose slowly as acid eyes read from side to side, slowly becoming more and more incredulous.

Dear Harry,

I would begin this letter with pleasantries, but I would like to believe I know you enough to understand you aren't partial to them: allow me to simply get to the point. I have no right to be asking you for your help considering how much of your life you have given to this world, but I am indeed asking. We have recently discovered a great many interesting reading materials that were kept away from public knowledge although we are currently unsure as to why. The only reason we have even decided to look further into the matter is due to where they were found: Dumbledore's office.

He had a suspicious amount of theft charms on them- far too strong for a simple text. I have had the Unspeakables look further into the issue, and they were at least partially successful in beginning to understand its contents. We have been fortunate enough to use some of our contacts in other countries to see if anything can be found, and have seemed to find a man that may be able to help. Normally I wouldn't involve you in this but I find myself trusting a very limited amount of wizards and you are one of the few.

I'll get to the point; I need protection. He is an unknown and while I have been assured of the validity of his expertise and seemingly gentle nature, the world he belongs too is a dangerous one. I would offer you money but I know you don't really need nor want it, so i'll strike you a deal. A portkey… a non registered one. No one will know, see, or hear when you leave, and leave is what i'm fairly sure you want. I have a limited amount of countries I can bring you where I can get it off the books, but you can chose between the few. Don't misunderstand- as Minister I know you leaving would cause more trouble than I truly want to deal with. As a friend, I know you need this. As both… I will help you, but for a price that will also benefit myself. If you want further details on the job then please contact me.

I hope to see Hedwig soon, and I hope you are well.

Shacklebolt

How bold, Harry thought with furrowed brows.

Bold as it was, Shacklebolt was indeed correct. Harry wanted to escape this bloody country and had this notion of leaving many times over the past several months. He thought he had been slightly more conspicuous in this desire, but apparently not. This opportunity brought a seemingly easier way to ensure his freedom. Well easier than just being on the run, which he would prefer to not do if it could be avoided. He had done that once and the thought of doing it once more was what made him hesitate from leaving months ago. That aside, the letter had left him with more questions than answers. The vague mentions that were within was enough to understand the older man was avoiding including particulars on paper, and judging from the incredible amount of security charms on the parchment Shacklebolt was taking this seriously. Regardless, Harry was no longer naive enough to truly think there wasn't more to this- it was just a matter of how much more there was.

Interesting.

Sighing, he opened a drawer in his desk and took a piece of parchment out. The portkey wasn't the only advantage for completing doing this job, and he did so love a good mystery and a possible challenge. His magic buzzed at the thought of someone dangerous enough to warrant his presence and protection. Years ago he would have been slightly ashamed at the adrenaline running through his veins, but he had long since immersed himself into the feeling. He was a fighter first and foremost; his magic craved it, he excelled in it, and he had accepted it.

It was a bonus that I could see something apparently Dumbledore hid as well, he thought as a sharp grin pulled at his lips.

As he wrote he found himself being unusually eager for this meeting. His instincts were telling him this would lead to something and he trusted his instincts more than anyone and anything. Regardless of his tentative friendship with Shacklebolt, he trusted his magic and his connection to it much more than any human. And with that thought he finished his brief affirmative to the inquiry as well as a request for a meeting for more information on the subject.

-x-

The air was cool, the sun peaking from behind the clouds slightly as he rose a hand to gently shield his eyes. It was peaceful, and he preferred these kinds of days to the usual atmosphere he found himself in. Although it wouldn't last for much longer he thought, casting a glance at his phone sitting on the small cafe's table. Humming he sipped at his tea, body looking deceptively relaxed as the heat settled into his bones. He sat calmly as he gazed at the busy street and took another gentle sip, amber eyes lightly gazing at his surroundings.

He was on a mission, albeit slightly different than his usual ones. He had received a notice from the Triads, and as he always did when he received such a notice he became slightly grim with reality. He had long accepted it of course but that didn't stop the thoughts however fleeting, and the uneasiness increased with the completion of reading his task. This notice was vastly different in nature and it set his instincts into overdrive. Due to his specific… skills, his usual tasks were those that ended in death, but this order was quite unusual.

As all Mafia, the Omertà was always to be given the highest priority regardless of any circumstances. No one spoke of information related to the mafia that wasn't Mafia-that's simply the way it was. While the Triads were technically not Mafia in the usual sense, they were so deeply intertwined in the Italian Mafia's world it was almost impossible to not see them as Mafia. He truly found no need to make a distinction if he were to be honest, even if the Triads insisted on being viewed as the superior organized criminal organization.

Regardless, both had the same core rule; no one unrelated to the mafia and all of its contacts were to be told of it- no exceptions. So imagine his surprise when his newest task was to not exactly explain flame affinity, but to extract information to an apparently different organization that knew of flames. It was extremely startling and for the first time since being involved in organized crime he recontacted the Triads for more clarification.

Apparently the Triads had gotten intel on some individuals poking around materials and looking for information on flames. While this had happened before, the issue was usually dealt with swiftly and that was the end of it. However, the individuals searching for information were not civilians but appeared to not be Mafia either. The higher ups wanted information and even more so their pride was sore, especially if this information proved to be accurate. Another secret organization? Hidden as well? How interesting.

Details were limited, but there seemed to be another entire group of some kind that also operated under a similar Omertà and were sworn to secrecy. They had interrogated someone who they had found easily when they began digging around in a poorly hidden fashion. They were able to extract that he was from a society that was secret and that were searching for information on flames due to found materials. The only reason why they paid attention to him at all had nothing to do with what was said during the interrogation but what happened once the man had spoken. As soon as words left his lips his body had burst into convulsions, and they watched in interest as his screams cut off as he died.

They seemed to have methods that were able to enforce this oath of silence remotely. During the autopsy of the remains not one implanted device was found- the body simply appeared to have seizure like symptoms from no where. It was as if these people had ways to silence those that spoke, and it needed nothing but simple words.

He sighed, placing the china down softly as he closed his eyes. The situation was complicated and if there was truly an entire society of hidden people then the Triad wanted to know- now. It would cause absolute chaos in the Mafia world and far too many questions. It would also put the Triads much higher among the world powers if they were able to not only secure information but an Alliance as well if they proved to be useful. Their methods were unknown, as was how they operated and so they sent him to be the official liaison between the two. He was to give vague information- nothing specific and nothing actually completely accurate, just so they would be satisfied. He was to gauge how dangerous they were and see if they were even worth an alliance, or if they would need to be eliminated. This was certainly not his usual mode of work, but he supposed with his disposition It would help.

Regardless, he was extremely uneasy over this development. Picking up the cup once again, sharp eyes watched his surroundings slowly as possible theories were created within his mind. A single individual was one thing, a small Familia another- but the higher ups tended to believe this was an entire community. This could change everything and while it wasn't said, he knew without a doubt that this could either be nothing or something far larger than he was almost willing to conceive. The Triads tended to think they were large but mostly harmless, as their investigation into the flames were amateur and not at all skilled. The only reason they found the need to investigate was due to the unusual death- otherwise they believed this group, while perhaps secret, were nothing to be worried over.

In other words, he thought idly, fingers tightening slightly on the delicate cup, it could be something that changed absolutely everything or nothing. It was an almost unbelievable thought, and the fact that the Triads didn't just simply order an execution put him further on edge. It meant far more than what he was being told and while he was one of the strongest in the world, he was also unwilling to underestimate any task that he received.

There was also how much was being told to him as well…

Exhaling slowly to control his facial muscles at the thought, he idly ran a finger over the rim of the cup. While he certainly asked for more clarification on the mission, he didn't expect the amount of particulars he had received. Their strongest he may be but he wasn't naive enough to not see that the Triads kept him on a short leash rather purposely, and the amount of information they were willing to give on this subject had been startling. It was completely unlike them to give him this much, and the notion made his eyes narrow slightly. There must be more to this: there always was he thought grimly, placing the cup on its plate and leaning back in his chair.

Blinking, he cleared his thoughts as he felt a presence make itself known from down the street. While his body looked relaxed, he was anything but. The presence had not been gradually noticed at all, it had just…appeared. Breathing slowly, he pivoted on his foot and moved his chair a few inches to the side so that he could view the street more clearly. The smooth motion produced no noise and required no jerky shifting of his muscles, and those around him held no awareness of this let alone his presence. He was far too skilled for that.

A figure emerged from the busy crowd of the street, and he could immediately see dozens of openings in the distinctly uncomfortable looking man that was shifting his gaze from side to side. Looking for someone, he thought immediately, eyes narrowing further on the figure in the distance. Surely this couldn't be who was to meet him, he pondered in disbelief. Surely someone with their guard down this much wouldn't be having the very first meeting with an unknown.

The unknown man looked even more uncertain now, glancing around as he made his way steadily closer before stopping on the road right before the cafe he was seated. He pulled something from his pocket (a coin?), closing his eyes for but a moment then returned it once more. He found this strange and tensed minutely as the man suddenly looked directly in his direction, relief crossing his features before he seemed to walk with more intention directly toward him. A peaceful smile graced his lips as the unknown made his way to his table, and he allowed himself to show none of his readiness to eliminate the man if it was needed. Instead his face showed utter calmness at the new individual, and it seemed the man was pleased when he looked at him.

"Sorry mate, couldn't lock onto you there for a second." The man said sheepishly, hand going behind his head to scratch at his head. His blonde hair was loose and slightly mused, while his blue eyes showed apology.

"Of course." He replied smoothly, his mind working to analyze what he meant exactly by 'locked on'.

"Well," The blond cheerfully stated, hand lifting to shift his red button up, "Lets go then, shall we?"

Narrowing his eyes but for a second, he smiled as he took in all the information given.

Amateur, too unsure of himself and his surroundings, certainly not a fighter nor someone who could harm him. Not someone of authority if he was sent to retrieve him, and certainly not experienced if his shifting was to go by. Oddly looks to be uncomfortable in his own clothing, as If he has never worn it before. Perhaps not usually in a more professional job? A strange coin, apparently able to lock onto his presence in someway, which was most perplexing. How was he able to know it was him specifically? His existence was indistinguishable and he was self assured in this fact. They had no contiguity before this moment, so how was he able to track him?

"Where to?" He asked politely, swiftly placing a bill on the table and tucking his phone into his pocket as he stood, hands clasping easily behind his back.

He had been cognizant of the fact they were moving to a different location, but the idea still made him ill at ease. The Triads informed him he would be meeting their leader, and while he was suspicious as to why he was being asked to do such things he knew the Triads would not put him in a position that would completely eliminate him. Well, sort of.

They had gone through far too much trouble to chain him to them, after-all.

"Somewhere away from the Mug- erm, the civilians." He said, stumbling slightly at the end. The action showed his definitive unimportance within the bigger picture, but the assassin understood that even those with little weight could provide information.

"I see." He said, curved lips in place. He knew he was the picture of innocence and serenity, and it seemed the unknown felt slightly more comfortable as he took in his apparent relaxation.

"Well, let's be off! The Minister is waiting." He intoned lightly, waving him to come as he took down the street.

Walking smoothly, he followed two paces behind as sharp eyes scanned the man for any unusual movements. Minister? How large was this group that dictated they needed something like a Minister? And not only that, but to use the term at all certainly didn't make him think of anything close to a Familia, so perhaps the assumption they weren't actually involved within the Mafia was correct?

"Ah!" The blonde exclaimed, and he tensed for a second at the loud noise before the unknown continued.

"How rude! Sorry about that mate, been so used to being around people who know me I forgot to introduce myself! The names Colin! Colin Wood! Just call me Colin though." He said, scratching at his head once again. A habit, it seemed. Certainly not a professional of Fon's kind he noticed immediately. Habits of those kinds were likely to get you spotted and killed, and fast.

" I am Fon." He said, serene smile becoming just a hair larger. "Nice to meet you, Colin."

-x-

"Interesting."

Very interesting he thought, eyes watching the sitting figure before him with an acid gaze. He could tell he was making him the slightest bit uncomfortable with his intense stare, but he cared little for the mans comfort. While they had a tentative friendship, he didn't delude himself into thinking he should be relaxed. He hated politics, yes, but he had enough practice with its twisted nature. While the tall figure seated was a 'friend', he was also the Minister.

So no, he wasn't unaware of what kind of picture the man was trying to paint.

Humming in thought as he sat further back in his seat, his eyes remained unblinking as they analyzed the older man. There certainly was more to this than the letter had disclosed, and he knew immediately after the conversation that took place there was even more being held from him. The Minister had explained that due to Dumbledore's status, his personal areas were being cleared out and sorted, as the man had lived a fairly long life and had countless important documents. They had stumbled onto information regarding Elementals, and while if it had been found during the war it would have been pushed aside, the information now seemed to be of more interest.

However, that left the question of why it was interest. Certainly not for a scholarly interest, as now was hardly the time with how absolutely destroyed their defenses were. In fact it was absolutely idiotic, and if there was one thing he would give to the Minister it was that he was no fool. It was clear Harry was not being properly informed of the whole picture, and it made his magic hum beneath his skin as the thought went through his mind.

His magic agreed.

If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was withholding information. It was as good as lying, and there was nothing he despised in this world more than lying. Acid eyes narrowed as his hand brushed a strand of onyx hair, the loose curl being swept from his cheek. His fingers lightly drummed onto the desk before him, the sound echoing almost too loudly within the silent room.

"While this is fascinating," he started, his voice a frosted monotone, "It answers nothing of how you ended up in this specific situation, Minister." He didn't voice his other questions just yet, instead focusing on the others body movements. His eyebrow rose as the man tensed, looking at him with slightly wary eyes and felt satisfaction zip through his body at the sight.

It was a reaction he had never dreamed of being the cause of considering his once small malnourished body, but his presence did in fact bring respect and even fear after the war. As strong as the Minister was, with his large stature and swift body, he still became uneasy when faced with an irate Harry Potter.

Good.

He breathed through his nose slowly, easing his irritation as he felt his magic bubble along his skin. He had long since calmed his magic and temper, especially when faced with the consequences of emotional decisions. The face of Sirius flashed along his mind, but nothing showed on his face at the thought of one of his biggest lessons.

He would always be a rather emotional person (though he hated to admit it), but his ability to mask his reaction and magical surges had been a skill he had to learn quickly when faced with the war. His episodes of destructive anger rarely happened now, especially after the war though he knew many were still weary to face his wrath. His magic hummed at the thought, and he clicked his tongue as emerald eyes remained fixated on the larger man.

Shacklebolt had explained the materials and where they were found, and while that warrants a search it didn't explain why he was willing to let an outsider into the still recovering Wizarding England. In fact, he thought grimly, it was absolutely reckless and the exact opposite of what he knew the man would normally do. So there must be something to gain, or perhaps insurance on the promise of no harm. He withheld a snort at at the thought: he knew more than many that harm didn't always mean physical, and he was worried about far more than an attack. Information was powerful, after-all. There was too many unknown factors, and he hated having no viable information of what he was to meet soon.

The synopsis was that it had to do with Elementals, and the decreasing amount of them within their society in the past five hundred years. He had heard of them far before this, of course, but he hadn't truly put much thought on why there were less around. He certainly had never come across one, and no-one he knew had either. It appeared they were looked on with both awe and fear, as their abilities made for devastating consequences when angered despite the fact they were unable to use spell magic. During the Dark Creatures Act hundreds of years ago it seemed that the fear reached a boiling point and they were actually added to the list along with vampires, werewolves, and many others. The results were devastating and they had been rounded up, collared, and forced to work with the Aurors or forfeit their lives.

Apparently many were taken away, though not many had been lucky enough to escape. It was the reason for bad blood between a few countries and England as they had granted them amnesty all those years ago. England hadn't taken too kindly to the interference, and he knew how hard this ridiculous community could hold onto a grudge. Harry knew how bad that law had been due to his talks with Moony as well as his other creature contacts, but he had been unaware that Elementals were included within it. Those that lived and 'worked' for the government were beaten into submission, tagged and registered, and forced to do the dirty work of the Auror's. He grit his teeth slightly at the thought, though his face remained blank. It had been awful.

Shacklebolt told him that he had a team search to see if they could retain information of any kind, and found something worth while in the form of an organization. They set up a meeting to speak, and he was being asked to attend as a guard for the older man. However that was precisely the problem: If there was one thing he understood it was power and where there was power, there were people unwilling to share. In other words, why exactly would these people be interested in seemingly sharing their knowledge of this power? Or even discussing it at all? That seemed unlikely and they had no way of making sure the information was legitimate anyway. There was also the question of what exactly did he mean when he referred to them as an 'organization'? A community of wizards? Elementals?

No, there was something he was missing: of this he was certain.

Eyes sharpened as the man before him sighed slightly, leaning further into his chair and placing his folded hands atop the impressive desk. Dark brown met green, and neither blinked for a moment before Shacklebolt closed his eyes.

"You're right, of course." He said slowly, voice a deep tenor. A crease formed in between his dark brows before he spoke once again.

"This wasn't what I had intended, certainly, when I authorized a small group to investigate the materials found in Dumbledore's office." He began, lifting a hand and absently rubbing it on his hairless head.

"I had originally found it unnecessary to investigate them to start with, before other materials were found within his office and were brought to my attention. First let me say Harry, I'm not talking about a few texts- I'm talking about a hidden library within the confines of Dumbledore's office."

Harry's eye widened for a moment before focusing again on the clearly weary man.

"Hidden library? How was it found, and how were you able to get the texts? You had no knowledge of this, nor anyone else?" He pushed, eyes piercing as the angled face before him seemed to grow even more tired at the questions.

"No one knew of this: not I or anyone within the Ministry or Hogwarts either. No record either, and any spells used for maps were unable to detect the area. The only indication was a faint magical signature, and while that would normally not be unusual, Dumbledore had been dead for far too long for there to be residual magic. It would have been impossible for it to last that long, unless of course it wasn't residual." He said, leaning back and staring at him seriously.

"I'm uncomfortable to admit that we would have overlooked this it if it weren't for the fact that we had a strong sensor among them. If nothing else, the old man was certainly clever. Imagine our shock when we uncovered that it wasn't just a slight trace, but a handle if you will to a secret door under his desk that lead to an entire room below the confines of his office."

Harry knew his eyes were quite large at this point, but truly this was incredible information. Not that it was completely surprising, he thought with annoyance, as that old man loved nothing more than keeping secrets and information.

"And within here you found information on Elementals? Surely that isn't all- He wasn't one to be interested in a single topic. It would have been far more like him to horde information on countless ones." Harry pointed out, watching as Shacklebolt hummed lowly before nodding.

"An accurate observation. Yes, we found countless texts and old rare tomes within the room. But while we were able to enter, actually opening these texts were another mater entirely."

The green eyed savior considered this for a moment. "I'm assuming there was some heavy magic sealing everything. It wouldn't surprise me: keeping secrets was what he loved most."

"Yes. You know an awful lot on how he operates it seems."

Harry tensed slightly at his statement, before waving it away. "Regardless, so you simply were able to open the ones on Elementals first? Have they all been unsealed? I would be shocked if you made significant progress considering who you are dealing with."

The minister paused for a moment before agreeing. "Yes, not all have been unsealed. I wouldn't have normally put this much man power into the investigation, but you know as much as I do that whatever could be found in that room could answer countless questions the old man left with his passing. And of course, it could aid us in rebuilding."

And perhaps calm the people, Harrys mind whispered as he considered the man before him with sharp eyes.

He understood without it being said. The war had destroyed wizarding England, and Harry of all people knew what state the government was in. They needed to feel safe- the people needed to feel safe. And truly the only way to do that is to gain more power, a symbol of their certainly in regaining normalcy. They were fine for the time being, seeing as Harry was in fact that symbol of power that made the witches and wizards of England feel safer at night. But it seemed Shacklebolt already knew of his unwillingness to fix anything else. And while it seemed he was reluctant to explain why Elementals specifically were a solution to this, Harry was unsure why the large man was not pushing his presence more. If anything, it seemed far too easy honestly, and that thought made his eyes harden even as more questions flooded his thoughts.

"You are looking for something." Harry said in a blank voice, watching as the other twitched. The slight movement immediately told Harry he was correct, irritation spiking while his curiosity skyrocketed even further. The war had developed many instincts, and they were telling him he was correct. An entire team to search the old man's room? Unlikely, even with his status. No: they were searching for something specific, something the Minister felt was not only a priority but apparently worth the risk.

"Perhaps." The deep voice of his companion conceded, but didn't elaborate further. "Regardless, we found this information, investigated, and we were caught." He said bluntly, making Harry tense.

"Retrieval?" He said darkly, and the other quickly shook his head in the negative.

"No, I'm sorry to say its impossible. He's dead." He sighed, leaning his head on his hand but eyes still serious.

"This isn't good." Harry said mildly, leaning forward in his seat with hands clenched. "What information was extracted? How long ago was he taken for?" He pushed, and the other hummed in thought.

"The charm says the capture was for 1 day 5 hours and 33 minutes." The bald man informed, watching as Harry's lips curled slightly to show his teeth at the information.

"Too long in unknown territory. What kind of charm was on his person?" He watched through narrowed eyes as Shacklebolt grabbed the folder that had remained untouched until then. Thumbing through the pages, Harry watched as smokey eyes scanned the words and the harsh darknesss underneath them seemed to deepened as the eyes scanned the page.

"Shutdown."

The green eyed man sighed. "Then why did it take so long? That charm is meant to instantly kill the person with it if they are giving information that is vital." he pointed out, and watched as the other nodded.

"Yes, but it wasn't activated until a full days time. It seems the information extracted until that point was deemed 'not vital'". The response wasn't one Harry found himself happy with, and a dangerous thought emerged while pondering over what he had been told. Mind racing, he froze for a moment before his mind quickly began analyzing something he hadn't considered until just then.

"All information is vital when faced with an unknown. We aren't talking about vital information to the Dark now-we are talking about Unknowns. Muggles even, perhaps. That kind of information that could be taken could cause an entirely new problem." Harry ground out. Acid eyes watched as the older man frowned, eyebrows knitting further as the weight of this fact settled over the both of them. It seemed it had just occurred to the Minister as well, and it felt heavy as they looked at each other.

"… You're right. Unfortunately the charms were specifically designed for the war, so honestly the information that was taken could have been significant if they are unaware of our world, and that brings us to the reason why this mission needs your expertise."

Fuck, Harry thought, eyes closing as dread swirled within his stomach.

There was in fact far more to this after-all. All the possible options to this were awful. If it was a group of Elementals it was better but also concerning, because it was possible they had no knowledge of the entire magical world other than their own abilities. Unlikely perhaps but possible considering that Elementals seemed to disappear hundreds of years ago, plenty of time to create a community. Or it could be a group of Elementals but those aware of the wizarding world, which would be for the best but still bad. Worst case was if this group were fully muggle and therefore ignorant to all magic, then it was insanely dangerous. While it wasn't rare for wizards to be deployed to erase memories and do damage control, they had no way of telling what information was taken and how many currently had it. Forget the destruction of Wizarding England: It could lead to the end of the hidden world of wizards for the entire world at that point. A sudden thought caused acid eyes to blink.

"You said he was from a 'dangerous world'." he pointed out, easily noticing when the man stopped rubbing his chin, "What does that mean? Is this a group of Elementals? Or even Muggles?"

The savior's eyes narrowed when the large man let out a breathe, running a hand along his temple as he gathered his thoughts before answering him.

"I have no idea." He must have seen his emerald eyes rapidly darkening in response because he immediately explained further. "I know of this… groups reputation, should I say. But I do not know specifics nor do I know if they are magical or not. Information is limited."

The silence felt heavy as sharp eyes scanned the man before him, thoughts swirling as he watched the older. Young he may be, but stupid he assuredly is not. Something wasn't right.

"I hope you aren't looking for me to pursue this." He said, mentally shaking his head of the intricacies of the matter. He knew what would happen if he allowed himself to get sucked into this, and he truly didn't wish to be involved in another war.

He wasn't naive enough to not see where this could head, and by the tense form of the minister it seemed he did too. It could be nothing, yes. It could be specialized wizards in a separate community, and that would be the best case scenario. Or it could be muggles with the start of dangerous knowledge, and they are fishing for more. The repercussions of this were massive, and it truly felt like more trouble than this information must have possibly been worth.

Unless, he thought as he pursed his lips, Shacklebolt felt as if he had no choice but to look for answers even if it was reckless.

It… almost felt like the man was backed into a corner, and it made his magic spiked at the thought of the Minister of Wizarding England being in such a position.

"I'm aware." The minister intoned seriously, his eyes dark. "I'm also not naive enough to even try to rely on you, or believe that you will fix more of this worlds problems. I'm not simply withholding information, Harry." He informed, sighing heavily. "I'm not telling you everything because its honestly not your issue, and I refuse to be like all of my predecessors and hand the problem away."

Harry felt shock zip through him at that statement, watching the other now with more suspicion.

"That isn't wise." He said bluntly, his tone grave. "I must confess i'm confused as to why you would care at all."

Well, he was never known for being subtle really.

"Harry," he said seriously, smokey eyes piercing. "There is far more to this than you want to know. It is far greater than anything we could have possibly comprehended or guessed, and I'm not sure how this will turn out." He admitted. "And quite honestly, even if I did rope you into it and give you all of the information that at least I knew, which isn't the whole pictured mind you, I know you are leaving- with, or without my help."

Green eyes remained steady on him for a moment before his lips pulled at the corner in a chilling smirk.

"Yes." He coincided, "I would. It makes my life easier obviously, but I don't need your help."

"You don't." The minister agreed, before looking at him with a cunning look in his eyes. "But this is far easier for you all things considering, and I would be able to keep the majority of the people at bay."

Well, that was certainly true. Harry had realized that of course, but that didn't make it any less annoying. He could leave yes, but he would rather tie up some loose ends. Having the Minster hunt him down would make his life more complicated than he truly wanted it to be.

"Then this man is coming today I assume? And my presence is only needed for this one meeting?" He asked simply, accepting that while it was a mess it wasn't one he would be bearing. He would help Shacklebolt, if only to get a smooth exit from the country. While it could easily effect him in the future, for now it was none of his concern. Sure his curiosity was peaked, but he had sworn he would no longer fix anything for these people.

He refused.

"Yes, only todays meeting. He should arrive within minutes." The minister confirmed, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"And how are you so sure that this will be a peaceful meeting? Especially as there has already been one fatality." Harry pointed out, slightly incredulous. Shacklebolt inclined his head in agreement.

"Yes, that is an issue. They have 'assured' us this is simply a informational meeting to see if the intel we have is anything in relation to their organization. And quite honestly while the information pertaining to this is important, now we must learn how much they were able to get out of our wizard. We must insure this issue doesn't become a much larger one. The agreement was for it to be in our land and with only one individual, which clearly favors us unless there is something we are unaware of. But even if they did cause trouble, how much can one man cause?" The statement made Harry raise an eyebrow.

"A lot." He deadpanned, slight annoyance leaking into his voice. "Never underestimate an unknown. And besides, I'm one man and I've caused enough trouble myself."

The statement made the Minister snort, something like amusement surfacing in his eyes and showing in the crinkles of his eyes.

"Now that is very very true." He said, a small smile on his face.

Harry refrained from saying anything more.

While some things were cleared up, there were still too many unknowns and it was suspicious. Why were they so willing to meet up? Why was Shacklbolt so willing, especially with a severely depleted force? Their numbers were so severely affected and that was not just due to the overwhelming casualties. After the war not many were willing to start on the force considering they were the first line of defense, and they had just witnessed what that could entail.

Green met darkened grey and it was as if the Minister was trying to impart that he understood Harry didn't buy the entirety of what was being explained. His eyes urged him to let it go, and he battled with himself for a moment before relaxing in his seat. He could see the relief flash across the older man's face and it confirmed his thoughts once more. He would let it go for now, but he wasn't twelve anymore. Information like this, even if he planned to leave, could still affect him and he would find out whether Shacklebolt thought he would or not. He wouldn't help, but he would understand what was happening regardless.

He would never be willingly ignorant again.

"Is it wise for this meeting to occur here?" He asked lightly, relaxing further in his seat.

"Normally I would agree that it wouldn't be," The bald man said, nodding his head. "However I've had a ward put into place that allows no one to exit once within, and they are aperating directly within the landing point inside the meeting room."

Harry made a affirmative noise, eyes staring at the wall for a moment before his eyes drifted shut. His magic swirled lazily and a slow breathe released through his nose at the feeling of a foreign energy appearing down the hall. Concentrating, he spread his senses so he could feel the foreign energy and found it to be… intriguing. While it assuredly was strong, the energy felt slightly different than the magic he was use to, more earthy almost.

Calm but raging, his magic whispered. A crease formed between his brows as he felt his magic buzz at the feeling, seemingly pleased with its presence and not at all feeling threatened. Urging him to go this is man, to feel this energy more closely. His magic was pulling itself toward the foreign energy.

How odd.

" He's arrived." He said simply, eyes opening as he informed the Minister. The other man nodded though his eyes remained distracted, and Harry immediately understood why.

While he had always been fairly good at magic, the training he had endured during the war was immense and his skill as well as connection to his magic had increased with every near death experience. With this, he found that he became connected with his magic in a way many had said was impossible, and that people still declared unlikely for anyone but himself. This stronger connection brought a level of effortless casting that many found uncomfortable to watch, especially as whenever he did his eyes apparently seemed to almost glow. He had never felt the need to confirmed this, but he supposed it was true as anyone who watched him harness his magic never seemed to look away, apprehension flickering in their eyes. The attention had once made him uneasy, but he no longer shied away. The fickle love of the wizards were no longer something he worked for. He would never again be ashamed of his magic.

Shacklebolt stood only a moment after he did, nodding his head. Harry watched as a firm but emotionless mask slipped over the other man's face and withheld a smirk. While he had little love for Kingsley's position, he had always held respect for the other man. He was one of the few who wasn't a mindless sheep, and that counted for quite a bit.

"Very well."

-x-

He had been lead past the congested street, his companion a few paces before him as he awkwardly dodged people scrambling by in various states of hurriedness. The unknown stumbled, almost tripping as he tried to weave in and out in a distinctly graceless fashion. Fon found himself absolutely incredulous if he were honest, sharp eyes continuing to track the blonde before him.

37. He had found 37 ways to kill him. Well, so far.

And to make matters even more boggling, he had only been in the man's presence for an average of six minutes. He had no awareness, no aura of power other than a slight hum that he would have mistaken for Chi if he wasn't a true consummate of harnessing that particular energy. Chi was power from the earth, and while this felt similar it had a clear sharpness to it that Chi lacked. Similar, but distinguishably different. Natural, yet not connected to the earth in the way Chi was. It was perhaps the most puzzling thing he had come across so far- this sharp emanation. And while Chi always felt wrapped around its conduit, this energy felt as if the unknown knew he possessed this, utilized it, yet was disconnected from it at the same time. Truly puzzling.

This disassociation was the equivalent of owning a gun and using it multiple times, yet not being able to hit the target. For someone like him it was truly disappointing, though in this specific instance it was perhaps the best outcome. If the people he was meeting were clumsy in the harnessing of their power, it would be a better outcome than a fully organized organization that would need to be wiped out.

He easily side stepped through the crowd, allowing himself to be led to the unknown location. With assessing eyes he began to organize his analysis of what he was dealing with in this situation. While the individual before him was almost surely no one of true importance, his presence answered his biggest question when considering this task. He did not ever recall coming across the energy he sensed within the blonde, and this fact set all of his thoughts racing. There seemed to be a power to these individuals, assuming this man wasn't singular in possessing this energy- and judging from the mans assumed unimportance that was a logical assessment. If this unimportant man possessed this power, than it was to be assumed others far more powerful than he did as well.

This changed much.

"Er, sorry mate but you have to uh.. take my hand for a second." The man intoned suddenly, a sheepish expression sliding onto his face as he turned down an alley and turned toward him.

Eyes sharpening, he coated Chi over his hand as he slowly handed it to the other, insuring it would protect against any possible attack. While the man seemed harmless, Fon was never one to underestimate an unknown, especially when he had such little information. The man took his hand, hesitating another brief moment before speaking once more.

"You have to close your eyes for er…this to work." He informed slowly, slightly stumbling towards the end.

Fon sensed the half-lie immediately but refrained from showing he had caught it. For someone such as him, seeing was not needed to know what was occurring. Smile ever present, he obliged and promptly understood he should not have. There was a pull, a loud penetrating pop, then the feeling of being squeezed through a finite space and his instincts warned that he was no longer anywhere close to the alleyway he was but a moment ago. In fact, his senses were rather contained- limited to a far smaller space. A small room his mind whispered as his eyes snapped open at once and ripped his hand away from the others clammy grasp.

"Strange sensation I know, give it a moment before you adjust." The blonde said in an apologetic tone, his voice soft and almost echoing. Fon almost didn't hear him, as the unknown's words began fading away to a distant sound as his senses alerted him to something far more powerful within the room.

As if in slow motion, normally raging storm flames froze within his core, stilling in a way they never had before. There was a pause as time slowed, breathing in and eyes dilating as an aura pressed sensually against his senses. His flames purred at the feeling, rumbling lowly within himself as they whispered their pleasure at the sensation and the power of the energy. Bumps began to raise along his arms, and he felt oddly weightless as his usually serene face turned towards the farthest corner of the room. He found the source of the intense energy instantly, and his eyes dilated as he tried to focus, desperately trying to stop the chills trailing down his spine.

Half hidden within the darkness of the corner was a man, intense acid eyes framed by shadows and only small highlights of tanned skin and a strong jaw were able to be seen. Those eyes were piercing as they met his own darkened amber, narrowed and catlike as they watched the uncharacteristically frozen assassin. The acid green glowed as they observed his threat level in a way he recognized, shrewd as only experience could dictate. The shadows were harsh against the golden scarred skin on the man, but what was seen was quickly processed by the Chinese man. Amber eyes trailed the movement of full lips as they parted slightly, a hint of teeth the only change within the mans otherwise emotionless face. He followed the slight movement, trailing along the curve of the man's soft lower lip that was sliced harshly, a silver scar breaking the otherwise full lip. Hair dark as night curled and flowed along his forehead and trailed beyond his nape, flowing past his built shoulder and beyond where he could follow.

Now this, the Triad member thought as his eyes lowered to half mast, was not disappointing.

Trying to breathe slowly seemed to be unattainable as it stuttered within his throat, hair standing on end and fighting a shudder as the green eye'd man's energy ran along his. At this his control began to slip briskly and before he refrained himself he couldn't help but wonder what he would do if the other had touched him physically rather than with just his aura. As he wrestled with his control, he disregarded the other presence within the room in a way that was entirely uncharacteristic for him. While the unknown man was strong and far more of a threat than his blonde guide, he couldn't focus on anything but the shadowed man with the most alluring eyes he had ever seen. His very core strained towards him, his flames erratic in a way he had never felt. They pushed at his control, slamming against his restraints and towards the man; he could feel his mouth slant as he grit his teeth to resist their whispers, despite his own attraction to this man.

The assassin was barely stopping his eyes from shutting at the feeling of him and it was only due to his practiced control that it was avoided, however barely. Exquisite pressure bore down on him and his hooded eyes dilated further, almost tasting the electricity swirling in the air that surrounded the acid eyed man. Fon found himself unable to tear his eyes away as his flames leapt towards the other, shocking him by the ferocity in which they pushed to reach their target. Rushing to rein in their desire, his eyes widened when he felt storm flames push back, seemingly relentless in their pursuit in a way he hadn't ever encountered. The Triad member felt as if his equilibrium were wholly disrupted, struggling to maintain his calm smile and keep eager flames under control simultaneously. This situation demanded the absolute control he normally possessed and he grappled with his body to focus and asses the possible threats before him in a clearly unknown location.

While it felt as if an hour had passed, he knew in reality it had barely been mere seconds. Ripping eyes away from the largest threat (and his greatest interest), he assessed the other man that was seated at the table with only a single chair before the heavy furniture. Ebony skin stretched over a stern chiseled face, dark eyes assessing as they watched him. He realized with a jolt that the guide must have been talking to the dark man during his flame struggle, and cursed his control. He struggled to keep his eyes away from the smaller of the two, watching as the large man's eyes strayed to his left toward his guide.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Wood." The other said, voice a deep tenor.

If he had been anyone else he may have been intimidated by the obviously large and powerful man, but Fon was surrounded by power every day. The assassin's eyes curved slightly as he smiled, his breathing calm and belaying none of his internal struggle despite the slightest grit of teeth. Glancing at the man next to him, he watched as the blonde smiled.

"Of course Minister, was not a trouble at all." He proclaimed easily, before blue eyes slid to the acid eyed man in the corner of the room.

Fon's eyes narrowed further as obvious devotion crossed over his guide's pale face, baby blue eyes glowing as they sought out green. He watched in interest as an almost awe entered them, something almost worshipful lining his eager face. The blonde placed his arm across his chest swiftly once he knew he had the others attention, his clenched hand and straightened back an obvious sign of his respect. But Fon had seen respect before, after all where there was power there was respect (and he was one of the strongest), but this was different. This man's respect was so sure, so insistent Fon almost felt the green eyed man was the Minister due to the difference in respect shown already by his guide between the two men. While he respected the Minister, he clearly almost worshipped the other man. How interesting.

"General." He said softly before bowing to him deeply at the waist.

Fon kept the surprise from showing on his face at the title, thoughts rapid with the knowledge. The darker man was the Minister, which intrigued him due to the obvious difference in strength between the shadowed man and himself. It may not have been obvious to others, but he was one of the worlds strongest- he knew power when he saw it. Of course that didn't mean he couldn't feel a similar energy from the Minister, but it still was far from what he sensed in the other. And the man was a General, clearly respected if the blonde's expression was anything to go by as well as powerful despite not holding the title of Minister. He twitched when his flames pushed again slightly at these thoughts, forcefully settling them as he fought to kept his serene face from breaking.

"You may leave, Mr. Wood. Thank you for showing Fon into the meeting room." The dark man said, clearly dismissive, and Fon noted his eyes had yet to leave Fon's once they met.

The assassin blinked at the pause that followed, glancing again at his guide as he nodded to the Minister before turning to the General. He said nothing as feet clicked together as they met, back straight and head bowed as the blonde's hands clasped behind his back. He swiftly took a knee, hand once again across his chest and head still bowed.

The assassins interest only continued to grow as the other leaned forward slightly, throwing his features into sharp relief as stronger light finally revealed the full features of the man who his flames reacted so strongly to. His breathe stuck within his throat at the sight, his eyes unable to leave his face. Beautiful.

"Dismissed."

The voice was deeper than he had expected and his accented words caressed his ears as it left the General's lips. His expression did not change as he spoke, and Fon scanned the previously partially hidden face with an eagerness that escaped his comprehension.

Tanned skin over angled features glowed under the bright light, highlighting bright green eyes, a straight nose, and a defined jaw. Amber eyes traced the odd scar on his forehead, easily spotting more that littered a strong neck in silver lines as they peaked from under his collar. He wore a simple white button up shirt and black pants from what he could see, but the simplicity did nothing to hinder the strong presence of the other. His eyes traced along his alluring eyes down to his full lips that were split with a silver scar, then further down to his scarred neck and clothed chest. Fon had never felt himself react in this way, and while his smile stayed upon his lips, time seemed to be moving in slow motion as his entire being found itself focusing on the green eyes piercing through his soul, a black curl laying upon his cheek that was suddenly being swept into place by a scarred hand. He felt as if he was staring at a being his very soul told him would alter his entire world.

Amber eyes greedily took in every detail he could while struggling to maintain his usual relaxed and peaceful persona but he found himself falling short. His hair was still on end in the presence of this General, his energy curling around the Chinese man and making it hard to breathe. His flames rumbled with deep purrs as his entire body seemed to strain towards the other man, and he caught himself before his feet moved from their place. His very core strained to be in the mans presence. What in the world was happening?

"Yes m'Lord."

The title shocked Fon as the blonde lifted his head and moved to exit the room, closing the door firmly behind him. A General was one thing, but a Lord? He knew he was in England but what significance did the title hold here, to these people? Regardless of the particulars it was obvious that this man held power other than physical, and he did his best to suppress the interest he felt at the realization. His flames seemed to purr in his presence, as if saying that Fon may be the storm but he was the eye. The center that pulled him in, power swirling and stealing his breathe and making him want to sink into the thick blanket of pure power. It was a feeling he had never experienced, and he fought with himself for a moment. He hated losing control, yet this feeling was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt and he hadn't even spoken to him yet! It seemed he had trouble controlling himself a lot today, and the thought irritated him for a moment before he shoved it aside.

A loss of control was something Fon could not tolerate. He had worked his whole life to control his body, mind, and flames and felt grossly unbalanced when his serene visage slipped. Many seemed to forget what Fon truly was and what he held within him, easily fooling themselves into thinking he was the epitome of calm. It was an assumption he cultivated, feeling satisfaction when others embraced what he presented to them. Storm Flames were raging and powerful, destroying anything in their path that peaked their ire. Those with storm flames were feared simply because they were classically a loose canon; emotions intense and quick to anger. The Triad member had ruthlessly trained himself to control those emotions, and due to this control many forgot what he was: the strongest Storm. These emotions were still present, he had merely contained them in a way many deemed impossible for a Storm. Fools.

Very few were privy to what Fon looked like when he allowed his emotions to dictate, and all those that had witnessed it were no longer amongst the living. There were very little times when emotions got the best of him, and none of those had happened even in what felt like a lifetime. He strived for this, as he knew his greatest weapon was this preconceived idea of his calmness. He cultivated it into a weapon, as this assumption left him with a strong weapon against those that had wanted him dead over the years. It was why Reborn always found his calmness as a particularly funny vision and joked about him being the biggest liar amongst them, considering he knew he truly was anything but what he showed. To feel this slip in his carefully cultivated mask he had worn for years made him as frustrated as it did capture his interest in a way he had never experienced. It was as if the mere presence of this 'Lord' has caressed his mask, before ripping it off in its entirety and seemingly with no effort.

But Fon had carefully crafted this mask for a reason.

Many forgot due to his calm tea drinking ways, but at his core he was pure destruction. His flames were the most destructive, the most volatile in their retaliation of perceived slights, and he had to work far harder than the other 'strongest' to carefully maintain his control. He had trained for endless years to carefully pull them in, and this man's very presence was ripping his restraints to shreds, his flames almost growling in their need to be in his presence. Reborn had always said that if Fon had ever found harmonization within a person, he would be worried not for Fon, but for the one he found his home in and any that threatened that home. Reborn was perhaps the only one besides the Triads to understand the true Fon, and as he felt his fingers twitch with the need to grab the man and pull him closer, eyes lidded as they traced a beautiful scarred face, his lips pulled into more of a grin than his soft smile. It was an expression that hadn't touched his face in years, and perhaps at this point Fon should have known nothing would be the same after this.

Reborn was right to be worried, he thought absently, back relaxing as his flames and mind aligned and eyes never left the man in the corner. Chi swirled in his core, merging with his flames as they strained toward the green eye'd man. The calm in both of the energies told Fon he was correct in his interest, that this man would bring something his core needed. Many never realized that at his core, he was possessive of what he considered his (and it truly was very little, as he had lost so very much already), and his flames insisted from the moment his eyes saw this green-eyed man that he was HIS.

Mine, his flames whispered, eager for Fon to finally understand their urgent nudges.

Soon, he answered, flames finally relaxing at his thought, dangerous curiosity within piercing eyes that never left the smaller man. His very soul told him this man was important, that he can't let this opportunity leave him to learn more, to be in his presence and feel his power against his own. His flames had laid claim on him, a strain in them he had never felt from anyone ever in all his years. Perhaps if it had happened years ago, he would tried to have reeled himself in and pulled away. Finished his mission and be on his way, calm smile in place as always. However, this wasn't years ago- this was now. This was different. He was different. He didn't think he could simply walk away if he tried, and only a few minutes had gone by.

He hadn't changed much throughout the years really, the main change being his strength increasing as well as his presence within the Mafia. But if Fon was being honest, the biggest change was one he had never voiced. While he had accepted he may always be alone, he had always held a small hope that it would change. All of the 'strongest' has similar thoughts on harmonizing, and the thoughts they had shared had not changed much throughout the years. To be honest, even if they had wished for a true harmonization, a true home; it was impossible for them. They had been far too strong and hundreds of skies had tried to pull them in with no success. So even if they had wished for this, it had not been within their reach. Fon truly thought that perhaps it would never happen, had eventually accepted that he would be alone and did his best at accepting of such a fate. But he knew the truth, one he never had spoken aloud. Even if it was out of reach, even if it was impossible and he was far too strong, he wished for it: that strange feeling of being home many had claimed they felt once they had bonded.

He found himself obsessing over it, wondering what it felt like and how strong such a sky must be to even tempt him let alone draw him in. It was a fantasy honestly, one that he shared with no one. Reality; however, seemed to be even better than his curious thoughts. And for a moment it hits Fon, perhaps for the first time the true gravity of this situation. The 'Lord' was a sky. The strongest sky he had even seen, something believed to be impossible. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, on how he was going to take this sky from this place after he gained more information on what exactly these people do. Although it will be hard as it is clear his sky is not only strong, but has power over these people as well. He did his best to ignore the purrs of his flames, distinctly aware that the thought of his sky not only strong enough to bring down threats, but sharp enough to wield political power made liquid fire pool in his stomach as he fought his reaction to not show on his face.

His sky was strong.

His sky was a Lord.

His sky was clearly smart.

His. HiS. HIS.

It's not as if he hadn't noticed his general attraction to both sexes, but he had never been a person it really mattered to and he didn't really pay attention to it. He was far too busy and he trusted no one, so being vulnerable in anyway wasn't an option for him. He wasn't quite like Reborn, as he really didn't care as much about physical looks but it certainly didn't take anything away. The thought of the other hitman made Fon jolt into realization, an uncomfortable feeling skirting down his spine.

They were the strongest, all different elements and the few he considered something like friends. He tried to push the thought away but it went through his mind before he could stop it: They would take him away. He knew it wasn't technically taking him away, but they could harmonize with him. He didn't even have the Sky yet and he was unhappy with the thought of any other harmonizing with him. He had never felt this happiness and he may have to share it and maybe even soon.

The thought brought a surge of hatred so strong he could feel his face contorting for a moment. His control battled within him as he felt his teeth clench so hard he almost heard the creaking of his molars. Irrational he berated himself, but the thought did no use. He breathed slowly through his nose, steadying his flames with the internal promise that he would at the very least be the first. He would connect with him, learn all there was to know about him, and learn what his temperament was like to see if he could spirit him away. If he didn't want to leave, then Fon would stay. Fon would have to do much work to figure it out but there was no longer any choice; he would have his Sky.

One way or another.

-x-

psa: I had gotten a question on the All/Harry and yes both sexes but not explicit so if worried, don't be. The only explicit things i will write are death and blood, i enjoy fighting scenes and that's the main focus, as well as Harry cultivating his family in a sense. Already started the next chapter. Thanks for reading!