Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A soft pop echoed through the Elves’ Quarters, as Tibsy appeared in the doorway, just a few metres away from the small wooden desk that Tynx was seated at, logging the resources spent for the day in his report journal.

“Tibsy, how's Master's guests?” Tynx greeted without turning around as the young elf made her way through the room's lower floor, dwarfed by the two large trays of empty cutlery in her arms.

Her small shoes tapped softly against the brown brick floor of the lower half of the room, shuffling past the ladder that led up to the upper portion where their small beds were placed, with curtains that they could draw around the beds for a semblance of privacy. She carefully weaved her way through the space between two small, comfortable beige armchairs and a quaint wooden tea-table, past two cabinets placed against the wall, also made from wood, as well as Tynx's desk, and into the elves’ small sized kitchen.

She then bypassed the short cast iron wood stove, that was placed against the wall and used for cooking as well as warming, along with a long stone counter in the middle of the room that was used both for preparing ingredients as well as serving as their dining table. Before passing another three wood cabinets, one containing kitchen tools, another for storing seasonings, herbs, and spices, and the third for raw ingredients, as well as several wooden barrels of grains and such.

Finally, she stopped by the sink and set down the two trays in the sink with a sigh.

“Tibsy is seeing Brown-hair still coughing blood.” Tibsy replied after a moment, snapping her fingers, and making the soapy sponge begin scrubbing the dirty dishes. “But he is eating the foods Tibsy is bringing him.”

“That's good, Sir Ominis did say he'd continue coughing for a while because he isn't healing the boy regularly.” Tynx nodded absently, rifling through his desk drawer, and withdrawing a sheet of parchment.

He'd been recording the boy's recovery progress over the last month, for the Master's partner, and he quickly jotted down Tibsy's report as she shuffled over to his desk.

“What is it, Tibsy?” Tynx asked after a moment, seeing her shift nervously as she stood silently beside him. “Did one of them try to hurt you again?”

“...no, Tibsy is-” She wrung her hands anxiously. “Tibsy is... being not sure how to feel.”

Tynx set down his quill and turned to sit sideways in his chair, facing her. “About what?”

“Master's guests... lady guest was hurt a lot, and Tibsy knows Black-hair's fingers was being cut for trying to hurt Tibsy... but..." Tibsy trailed off, pausing for a few moments, before continuing. “Is it really okay for Master to be hurting peoples?”

Tynx sighed, now that he thought about it, he supposed it should have been expected. Tibsy's old master was a kindly old lady, she wasn't used to seeing injured humans.

“Tibsy.” Tynx began, raising his hands. “My old master cut off three of my fingers with his carving knife. One for leaving a crease in his shirt, another because his tea was too hot and the third for giving his daughter food while he was punishing her.”

Tynx lowered his hands to his lap solemnly. “Our master is not a nice person, but they are nice to us, they take care of us, and they defend us. They don't hurt us, and they don't make us hurt others. Anything else Master does is not for us to judge.”

Tibsy stared at the gaps between his remaining fingers with wide eyes for a few moments, before nodding silently.

“If it helps, I think these people are Master's guests because they all hurt Master before.” Tynx added and Tibsy's eyes widened. “I don't know if it will always be like that, but we should just be glad it's not us in there.”

“Our master gave us an actual space in their home to live in, rather than something temporary, like an expansion charmed barrel. They gave us the money and freedom to design and decorate our living space to our size and comfort, even before building their own.” Tynx smiled wryly and Tibsy's eyes skimmed over their warm and comfortable home.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Our life here is good, better than with most masters, try to focus on that.”

“...okay.” Tibsy nodded firmly.

Tynx smiled, relieved that she understood, it would hurt if their Master killed her for doing something stupid like trying to free a guest. Their Master was a good master, but not a nice or kind person and he knew from their eyes that they wouldn't hesitate to execute their servants for disloyalty or betrayal.

“Good.” Tynx glanced at the clock on his desk. “Now, you should probably go feed Master's snakes, we'll need to welcome them back from school in a few hours.”

“Oh, yes! Tibsy will go catch small fishys for snakeys!” Tibsy's expression brightened and Tynx nodded approvingly as she bounced to the side, grabbed a bucket from under the sink and popped away.

The young elf did seem to like the job of caring for their Master's pets. Perhaps he'd take over duties directly involving the Master's guests to make things easier for her. Tynx thought to himself as he returned to writing his report, he would need to finish logging everything before their master returned to Feldcroft in the evening.

At least he could report that the foundations were ready to be built upon as they'd hoped. Anything that kept their Master happy and satisfied with them was good.

“Gotcha!” Tibsy exclaimed, snapping her fingers, and levitating a small flopping fish from the clear lake water.

With a swish of her fingers, the fish floated through the air, and was dropped into her water filled bucket. Or, at least that was supposed to happen, but as the fish flailed and thrashed violently, its tail hit the rim of the bucket and the fish propelled itself to the side, landing on the floor outside the bucket instead.

“Oh no, fishy! You're supposed to go into the bucket!” Tibsy shuffled over quickly, trying to scoop the fish from the floor with her hands.

The fish, however, was having none of that, and struggled relentlessly to flop to freedom. Tibsy pursued the slippery thing for a few minutes, grabbing for it repeatedly, until finally she managed to catch the small fish securely in her hands.

“There!” Tibsy gave an exasperated sigh, eyeing the fish critically. “Why'd fishy have to struggle so much?”

As she heard her own words, Tibsy paused. Of course, because the fishy didn't want to die. She stared at the thrashing fish. After all, she was about to feed it to Master's pets. The weight of her own actions, the weekly chore that she hadn't put much thought into before, was suddenly feeling uncomfortable in her hands.

“But... if fishy doesn’t die, Master's snakeys will die.” Tibsy bit her lip, thinking of the cute two-headed snake that she had been taking care of for the last few months.

The funny way they wiggled around and the greeting hisses they'd give her when she visited them in her free time. Sir Ominis was very nice and helped her talk with them a few times and she thought the twins were really sweet, she couldn't imagine making them starve for a fish she didn't know.

If Tibsy could speak with this fishy, maybe Tibsy might choose the fishy over the snakeys.

But that wasn't the case now, was it?

It was the snakes that she cared about more. And so, she would sacrifice the fish for the snakes, consigning the fish to a painful death.

Tibsy dropped the fish into the bucket solemnly. Such a simple yet heavy action, now that she was thinking about it.

As Tibsy collected the bucket and apparated back to the castle's greenhouses, she wondered if her master faced similar decisions.

She wondered if their guests were fishes.

“Welcome home, Master.”

Tibsy followed Tynx's bow, as the Keeper and their partners entered the Feldcroft cottage.

“Tynx, Tibsy.” The Master's voice was even as always, their expression stoic as ever, and Tibsy found herself scrutinising their face as she and Tynx straightened from their bow. “Your report?”

Tibsy stood silently behind Tynx as he began to give his usual report, watching the Keeper curiously, while their partners began to unpack their luggage. The Keeper's expression didn't change as Tynx spoke, summarising the elves’ progress with the castle and the condition of their guests, before handing the Keeper several pages from his journal, which they tucked away in their pocket.

“The two of you can begin preparations for building the castle. Sebastian and I will join you tomorrow to begin work on it if the weather is favourable.” The Keeper instructed, before surprising Tibsy with a small smile. “Well done, both of you.”

“Thank you, Master.” Tynx replied smoothly, bowing once again and Tibsy hastened to follow.

“T- thank yous, Master!” She squeaked, dropping into a bow as well, the Master's words making her feel warm inside.

She was a little surprised that the Keeper had praised her as well, considering that they normally spent more time instructing and discussing with Tynx, since Tynx was more capable, and did all the planning while she just did her best to follow instructions and not break something again. It did mean that she sometimes felt a little lost though.

“Oh, and Tynx, about the bulbs, how much did we get for those?" The Keeper's attention quickly returned to him.

Tynx checked his notes for a moment before replying. “Just enough to cover the cost of the list of tools you specified. The owner of Slug and Jigger's Apothecary paid a total of..."

“Tibsy.” She blinked as the master's blind partner approached her from the side.

“Yes, Sir Ominis?” Tibsy asked, turning to him at attention.

Ominis gave her a kind smile. “I wanted to ask how the girls are doing.”

“Oh, Sir Ominis’ snakeys are doing good! Tibsy fed them a small fishy before coming to greet masters!” She nodded eagerly. “Snakeys have a little bump of food inside now!”

“Thank you, Tibsy.” Ominis smiled, and Tibsy was surprised when he reached a hand forward and petted her softly on the head. “For taking care of them for us.”

His hand was big, warm, and gentle, and Tibsy felt that warmth inside again. Tynx was right, life was good here, with masters that were nice to her and made her feel happy.

All she had to do was follow instructions.

Chapter Text

"How's the stability looking on your side?” The Keeper's voice called out, and Sebastian could hear them making their way around the construction site towards him.

He hummed, as they came to a stop beside him, where Sebastian was still crouched. Inspecting the rows of bricks that he'd been carefully aligning and stacking with levitation charms, meticulously shaping them into walls for the last five hours or so.

Standing, he breathed a sigh. “I feel like we should stop here so it can dry, before setting the next layer of bricks. I'm guessing it's the same on your end.”

The Keeper made a distant sound of approval, also surveying the site. “Yes, I think we've done as much as we can today.”

“Not bad for our first day, guess I'll go find Ominis then.” Sebastian flashed them a tired but satisfied grin, guessing that, before leaving, they'd want to speak with-

“Indeed, we're off to a good start. You go ahead, I'll speak with Tynx and then join the two of you at the landing strip in a bit.” The Keeper nodded, patting him on the shoulder before striding towards the other end of the site, where Tynx was also stacking bricks.

Sebastian grinned fondly, his lover was predictable, if nothing else, and he tucked his wand away, before setting off as well. His boots tapped against the cobblestone path that meandered through the grassy courtyard and paved the way to the greenhouses. One of the first things the elves had constructed, seeing as melting snow was awful to walk through.

The late afternoon sun was becoming warmer than comfortable with the arrival of summer, and he tugged absently at the open collar of his light blue button-down. The days were getting longer too, and the Keeper had already made an attempt to continue working till the sun went down, but Ominis was adamant that their lover would be getting more sleep this holiday than their last summer break.

As he neared the southern wall, where the greenhouses stood, Sebastian's eyes idly roved over the land as it were, blanketed by the sun's rays. The castle's courtyard was still covered with tools and materials, barrels of metal ore from the caves that they'd used to craft the cell doors and such. Large boxes tucked under the more beautiful trees that they'd left standing to decorate the grassy lawn that Tibsy had been trimming and neatening.

Sebastian didn't think himself much of an artist, but even he could see that the young elf had a good eye and skill in pruning shrubbery. They were lucky enough to have several bushes of Myrica Gale, a raisin scented shrub that repelled insects and could even be made into tea or essential oils that soothe skin irritation and acne.

They also had small patches of Purple Saxifrage oppositifolia growing like an elegant carpet of small, rounded flowers over the grass. Ominis had been happy when Sebastian found that these spring and summer flowers were even known to relieve indigestion. As well as some scattering of Calluna Vulgaris, which were good for treating inflammation, though the Keeper had originally mistaken it for lavender, until Ominis’ nose had protested their visual conclusion.

It had been a lot of fun, the three of them working to identify the various plants within their territory, over the course of the past year, before Sebastian would comb the Hogwarts Library for information on them. The greatest gem they'd found, however, had been on the plains, near the foot of the hill on which Dìon stood.

The Scilla Luciliae, a plant that produced Squill bulbs. A much sought after ingredient of the Felix Felicis potion that, like the Bloodroot, was likely a relic of the previous owner of this land, since it wasn't native to this region. They'd transferred all instances of this plant to the greenhouses the moment they were ready and had the elves harvest the bulbs to sell, whilst they were buried in exams in June.

While the plant itself was not rare, they only flowered for harvesting in spring and didn’t grow in the United Kingdom, so these were fairly valuable. According to Tynx's report yesterday, those bulbs of Squill alone had carried most of their expenses on the construction tools that they couldn't transfigure for the castle building.

Still, despite all the construction, the courtyard was actually beginning to look like owned property. This morning, the Keeper had suggested placing a fountain in the middle of the courtyard, in front of the house, like the one in Hogwarts, and Sebastian could already imagine how polished the castle would feel with small touches like that.

Though, sadly, Ominis had shot down his suggestion of placing gargoyles with menacing sharp teeth about the parapets as well, a pity since Sebastian thought it'd look brilliant.

Poking his head through the greenhouse's door, he couldn’t help the smile that formed when he spotted Ominis busying about the greenhouse in an apron and gloves. The sun's light caught on the tips of his hair and fair skin, setting him aglow, as the soft sound of hisses drifted through the air as his lover chatted with the snakes. Even after a year, Sebastian could still barely believe that the beautiful boy he'd admired for so many years was his.

“While you decide if you're coming in or not, at least close the door. You're disturbing the atmosphere's humidity.” Ominis huffed, rolling his eyes as he harvested a dittany's leaves.

Sebastian grinned and stepped in, letting the door close behind him. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Of the greenhouse?” Ominis asked with some confusion as he dropped the leaves into a basket.

“Of you.” Sebastian quipped cheerfully, and with a few quick strides, he was wrapping his arms around Ominis waist, happily tucking his face against the slender exposed neck that was peeking through a loose thin white blouse.

“Ugh, Merlin's beard, Sebastian, it's already far too warm in here.” Ominis protested, peeling his cheek from his clingy boyfriend's forehead.

The twin snakes behind them hissed and Ominis let out a quiet laugh that made Sebastian hum curiously, still busy nuzzling against the pleasantly soft skin of his lover's neck, sticky or no. Perfectly content with the likelihood of being the butt of the joke, if it made the blond laugh like that.

“So, did you have a purpose, or did you just come here to make me feel more unbearably hot?” Ominis sighed, resigned to having an octopus attached to him and not getting any more work done.

“More hot? I don't think that's possible, you're already incredibly hot.” Sebastian grinned, unable to resist lapping at the tempting beads of moisture on Ominis’ skin.

“Ugh, stop it, Sebastian!” Ominis protested, redness climbing up along his neck, and to his ears, as he renewed his attempts to wiggle free.

Sebastian chuckled and released his grip, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, we're done with building the castle for the day. If you too have naught else to do, we can return to Feldcroft.”

Ominis removed his gloves and rubbed a hand over his neck with a huff. “Well, I suppose I can leave the remaining plants for tomorrow.”

“Nice, looks like we've got a lot of potion ingredients this harvest.” Sebastian nodded, peering into the basket.

“Hopefully the potions we make from them sell well. I was listening to Tynx's report yesterday and I honestly thought we'd have more left over from the Squill bulbs.” Ominis sighed as he tidied up, removed his apron, and put the basket away under the potting tables, giving the snakes a farewell kiss on the snout each.

Sebastian placed an arm around his shoulders when he was done, the sound of hisses fading as Sebastian pushed the door open. “It'll be fine, we're getting on well enough, with the elves foraging a fair portion of our food and building materials from our land itself.”

“That it may be... it certainly helps that we need only worry about food during the holidays, when we can help with hunting and fishing.” Ominis nodded, letting Sebastian guide him through the door. “However, while it's fine to live off the land for now, since it's only during the holidays and gives the environment time to replenish while we're at school, it's not sustainable and we're definitely going to need to start work quickly after graduation.”

“Yeah, we could probably use another elf too, Tynx and Tibsy are probably running themselves ragged, though I know they’d never complain, but that would cost even more money.” Sebastian grimaced, all things he never had to think about much before. “Maybe I should take on a part time job too... Guess that's what it's like becoming adults.”

“Stressful. Though... they've been worrying about this kind of thing for a lot longer than us." Ominis flashed a strained smile, thinking of the Keeper for a moment, before shrugging off Sebastian's arm to take his hand instead. While it was cooler outside the greenhouse, it was still far too hot to be that close.

“They grew up faster than us... I mean, I'm grateful to have had their support, but it's sad that they had to.” Sebastian murmured, absently rubbing circles on the back of Ominis’ hand.

The three of them had long since pooled their funds together, which consisted of the small allowances Ominis’ family still sent him, Sebastian's half of his parents’ modest inheritance and the Keeper's... earnings. Specifically, money earned from fulfilling requests, plundered from the Ashwinders and goblins, obtained from selling relics that they'd unearthed from ruins, materials from beasts and spiders, and more recently, the more valuable materials that the elves had gathered off the land.

In truth, the Keeper's contribution made up a vast majority of said funds pool and they had basically been paying for pretty much everything up to this point. They'd never even asked Sebastian or Ominis to help with managing the finances and he hadn't thought of offering either, content to leave such complicated calculations and decisions to them.

“We can't change that, but we can do our best to share that burden.” Ominis smiled wryly and Sebastian nodded.

He really should start being more aware of this stuff, rather than always relying on the Keeper to run the numbers and worry about their finances, after all, he'd be entering the working world in a year. As they cut across the grass to reach the landing strip, Ominis paused halfway and bent down to scratch irritably at his ankle.

“Ugh, bloody grass.” Ominis muttered when Sebastian made a curious sound.

“Something wrong with your ankle?”

Sebastian looked up at the Keeper’s voice, their expression concerned as they approached with Sepulchria in tow.

“Nothing, it's just the grass, it's scratchy and tall, and it keeps getting under my pants. Of course, the one time I decided to wear short socks.” Ominis grumbled with a grimace.

“Hm.” The Keeper crouched to examine their grass. “Admittedly this grass has been a bit of a bother, Tynx says that it takes Tibsy a long time to trim them every week. Perhaps we should replace the grass in our courtyard.”

“Yes please, a white clover lawn would be lovely. My hom-” Ominis caught himself with a wince, clearing his throat. “My parents’ home has a lawn of white clovers and it's really comfortable, soft like a carpet. I could run about barefooted, and I'm told it looks beautiful too.”

“That sounds nice, I'll tell Tynx to purchase some seeds.” The Keeper smiled, deciding to let that moment slide as Ominis seemed to wish, giving him a kiss on the cheek with a small smirk. “Come on, let's get back to the house and you can run about barefooted so I can see if it’s beautiful.”

Ominis frowned at their tone. “I have no idea what double entendre that was supposed to be.”

The Keeper chuckled. “You'll be surprised how many people find bare feet to be sexually appealing.”

Ominis’ eyes widened. “Feet!?”

“I mean, you do have pretty feet.” Sebastian commented thoughtfully.

“I what!?”

“Close your eyes.”

The Keeper's eyes slid shut without hesitation.

“I want you to picture a place. Somewhere safe, somewhere secure.” Ominis murmured, the three of them sitting cross-legged on the bed in the Feldcroft cottage, clean and full, the scent of their dinner still hanging in the air. “Let me know when you have one.”

The Keeper thought for a moment. Safe... quickly the Undercroft came to mind, the place that they trusted enough to hide the Repository. Yet, it was a part of Hogwarts, and was not truly theirs. The Trial grounds they'd found in Gringotts? That was secure they supposed, only accessible by one with Ancient Magic. Dìon? It wasn't completely secure yet, but it would be.

“Done.” Sebastian didn't seem to have quite as much hesitation, and they imagined that his was easily the Undercroft.

“The appearance of the location can be changed later, it's just symbolic, as long as you feel that it's a safe place to hide your memories.” Ominis smiled, guessing what was taking the Keeper awhile.

The Keeper chuckled, very well, Dìon then. For now, the most secure place in there was the Dungeons, so they pictured the third basement floor. “Done.”

“Next, imagine doors, many doors. Behind each door is a part of you. You may define them any way you wish. Age, location, people, or even aspects of your personality, whatever is comfortable.” Ominis continued.

Easy enough, the Dungeons were already filled with doors. The Keeper considered how they'd sort it, eventually settling on time and age to start with. They visualised the space, walking through the corridor, and allocating the time-period of a year to seventeen cells. They then created eight cells for the older orphans that they wanted to find, three for their caretakers at the orphanage, one for Solomon, one for Rookwood and Harlow, and one for Ranrok.

They hesitated for a moment, before envisioning another three secret rooms, hidden in the wall on the opposite end of the stairs descending into their mindscape. A room for memories involving Sebastian, a room for Ominis, and a room for Professor Fig and the Elder Keepers.

They thought for a moment more, before going back to the cells to assign one to Anne and another four for the friends they'd made in Hogwarts.

“Done.” The Keeper murmured and they waited with Ominis for a few more minutes before Sebastian echoed their statement.

“Now, imagine protection for these doors.” Ominis nodded. “Lace them with memories of pain. You want to shock any intruders that try to access them and force them to withdraw from your mind.”

The Keeper felt their eyebrows raise, well, that was easy too. They dug into the depths of their memories for pain, the pain of broken bones, of rent flesh, of air just out of reach, the nauseating burn of humiliation, of shattered dignity and broken pride. They poured their pain into the bars of the cells, melting it into metal. Anyone wanting to access their memories would need to touch that agony.

“Done.” Sebastian's voice was tight, and theirs wasn't much better when they gave their own affirmation.

They felt Ominis’ hand slip into their own and the residual discomfort from recalling painful memories eased some.

“Next, remember something safe for others to view, something boring.” Ominis’ instructions continued. “Something benign. Fill the open space with it.”

The Keeper thought back to their classes, pulling forth a memory of listening to Professor Sharp's lecture and letting it fill the room. “Done.”

“Done.” Sebastian followed.

“Alright, you can open your eyes now, but try to keep the place you envisioned in your mind.” Ominis’ smile was the first thing that their open eyes gravitated to as he spoke, before they glanced at Sebastian, noting his adorably focused expression and they quickly felt the image of the Dungeons begin to slip away.

The Keeper frowned and gripped tighter onto the visualised space, trying to remember the memory they'd filled the room with, rather than fresh thoughts of how handsome their boys were. This was turning out to be more challenging than they'd expected.

“Now, you remember the incantation, yes?” Ominis continued. “You can take turns practising the Legilimency Spell on each other, while trying to hold onto that representation of your mind. Though I will forewarn you, while I am admittedly unsure of how it'll feel, my siblings never seemed particularly excited for their lessons.”

“Duly noted. Would you like to go first, Sebastian?” The Keeper asked with a teasing smile.

“And let you learn from my failure? No thanks, I'll let you go first, for the small chance that you might.” Sebastian grinned back.

“You think I'll muck up a spell on my first go?” The Keeper drew their wand with a snort.

“First time for everything, love.” Sebastian winked.

“Fair, ready?” The Keeper smirked, waiting for his expression to focus again with a nod, before staring into Sebastian's eyes and swishing their wand, the way that Ominis had shown them before. “Legilimens.”

It was a strange feeling, one moment they were staring into Sebastian's warm brown eyes, and the next, they were standing in the Undercroft. There were doors fitted into the walls and they could feel, as though in the back of their mind, a memory of Professor Hecat demonstrating a spell, a mild sensation of curiosity and a tinge of anxiety drifting through the air.

Somehow, the whole place felt distinctly Sebastian. If that made any sense, and curiously, unlike their own greyscale mindscape, Sebastian's actually had colour. His own fascination fluttered about them as they examined the space, tinged with some exasperation because of course you got it on your first try, as usual. The Keeper smothered their own amusement, enjoying the comforting warmth of his affection swirling about them. Such a wonderful feeling, wrapped around every stray thought that whispered through their senses.

Stepping further into his mind, they moved towards one of the closed doors, feeling his apprehension ripple through the air. As they reached a hand forward, the Keeper could already feel a creeping numbness begin to crawl up their fingers. Bracing themselves, they gripped the door handle.

Immediately, it felt as though the very air had been pulled from their lungs, their body became laden with weight, their muscles seized up uncontrollably, and their stomach filled with ice, while their heart was firmly encased in the tight grip of despair. Of sorrow and loss, of hurt and betrayal, loneliness and abandonment, and a grief that was overwhelming in its agony.

They recoiled, as though burned, and the space around them warped, all of Sebastian's present thoughts and feelings overridden by these turbulent emotions and sensations. Losing their grip on the spell, the Keeper was ejected from his mind.

As they returned to themselves, the Keeper found their breaths laboured and the sound of Sebastian's own heavy breathing filled their ears.

How could anyone live with that? How could he continue to love, after having loved so deeply, and lost so horribly?

It was so different, Sebastian's suffering, yet no more or less than their own. Different but equally agonising and more than unbearable. Perhaps it was because they hadn't gotten used to that specific pain, they hadn't grown and learned to live with it as a part of themselves. A grief over a loss they’d never experienced, so foreign and sudden, jarring and nauseating.

“A- are you alright?” Ominis asked with a worried frown.

“Yes.” The Keeper forced out as they caught their breath, trying to focus on Sebastian through the moisture gathering in their eyes.

Within them swirled an instinctive desperation, welling within them in response to his emotions, yet the feeling itself was slowly receding from their mind. Much like how one would be unable to hold on to physical sensations after it had passed, the fact of its occurrence could be recalled, but not re-experienced without the root of said feelings buried in one's self.

They took a steadying breath. “It's starting to fade... and you, Sebastian?”

“...yeah..." He grimaced, shaking his head. “Well, that was unpleasant.”

“Sorry about that.” The Keeper pressed a hand to his cheek, feeling some relief at being able to touch him, to tell themselves that he wasn't about to crumble like an illusion. The foreign, yet raw sensation of loss gradually bleeding from their aching and throbbing heart.

“It's alright, we're testing our defences. If anything, it is I who should be apologising.” Sebastian smiled wryly.

“Not at all, it's a good thing that your defences are painful enough to throw me out like that. In a manner of speaking.” The Keeper shook their head and Sebastian gave a strained chuckle in response.

“I imagine entering someone's mind is a very intimate and fraught experience.” Ominis murmured, rubbing his thumbs soothingly over both the hands that were still within his grasp.

“It certainly is, but I'm glad to have done so. I have a new respect for you, Sebastian.” The Keeper smiled sadly, the moisture in their eyes finally swelling enough to roll down their cheek. “Living and enduring despite such pain, even though it must be terrifying. I'm proud of you, proud to have your trust.”

Sebastian's eyes were wide with wonder as he reached across to touch the wetness on their cheek. He hadn't thought his pain enough to draw tears from his stoic and seemingly fearless lover.

It’d been Anne who'd been hurt, Anne who was cursed, what did it matter that he had been alone, fighting to save her, that he had been hurt just as badly when she'd been ripped from his side. No one had paid any mind to him when he was lost, blind and adrift in a storm without a sail, rowing desperately in search of the shore, a vine without support.

After all, it was Anne who'd been hurt.

The moisture against his fingertips was indescribably precious, a tiny, shattered bead of light, healing his very soul.

Sebastian's cheeks were warm, and his trembling smile was soft, vulnerable, unlike his usual cocky grins. “That's... thank you, it's... quite something, to have someone genuinely understand my pain. To know they literally do.”

“I can imagine...” The Keeper shook their head with a sad smile, thinking of the pain they’d felt in him, the betrayal and hurt, a raw wound still festering even now. Goddamn Solomon, their hatred for that man would never die.

The fucker never cared, or perhaps never understood, what he was doing to his own blood, to the nephew he was supposed to love and guide. The kin he should have been comforting, rather than hurting. Solomon was supposed to be Sebastian's rock, his support and shield to weather any storm, someone he could rely on, but instead Solomon had bared his sharp edges at Sebastian.

The man merely berated him for trying to reclaim his happiness, for needing an outlet and course of action after being hurt. Ominis, who wasn't even family, had tried to be there for Sebastian far more than his uncle ever did, or Anne for that matter. Though, they would give that Anne wasn't in much condition to support him, that was supposed to be the job of adults like Solomon.

“We'll always be here for you, to share both your pains and joys.” The Keeper caught his hand in theirs as he withdrew it, squeezing his fingers, seeking to communicate the firmness of their conviction with their grip. To lighten the weight of his ever-looming despair and give him the reassurance they now knew he needed. “I will never abandon you or give up on you.”

“Forever and always.” Ominis nodded in agreement, lifting Sebastian's hand in his grasp, and pressing a kiss to it. “I may not be able to feel your pain through Legilimency, but I will always try to help you bear it.”

Sebastian swallowed thickly, finding it difficult to speak, but forcing the words out anyway. “I- thank you... both of you.”

The Keeper released his hand with a smile, allowing him space to collect himself for a moment and taking the time to do the same, scrubbing their sleeve over their eyes.

“Should we stop here?” Ominis asked, his voice laced with concern.

“No, it’s- it’s fine, I can keep going.” Sebastian closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the tension loosening from his body, before he looked up, his expression resolute. “Alright, your turn then.”

At his words, the Keeper took a deep breath, pushing aside the residual emotions and focusing on their mindscape as Sebastian drew his wand.

“Ready?” He asked and they nodded. “Legilimens.”

A moment of anticipatory silence later, Sebastian sighed with a grumble. “How in Merlin's name are you always able to get a spell right on your first attempt?”

The Keeper chuckled, while Ominis smiled and gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “Don't be discouraged, it's an incredibly difficult spell. At least you can learn it at all, training for it begins with eye contact, so I can't even attempt to practice the basics.”

“Is it possible to use this spell without eye contact?” The Keeper asked curiously.

“Theoretically, I suppose. However, I've never known anyone to achieve such an advanced level of skill. Then again, the art is considered illegal and anyone who had such capability would likely never admit it.” Ominis shrugged, and Sebastian gave an intrigued hum, before shaking his head.

“Alright, let's try again.” Sebastian nodded and the Keeper focused again on their mental visualisation as he met their eyes, raising his wand. “Legilimens.”

It was bizarre, feeling him inside them, like a warm little light floating through the cool air of their dungeon mindscape. The urge to cuddle him, to wrap their entire being around him, was unbearable with him so close, within their very mind like this. He drifted about for a while, and they wondered if he could feel their love for him, like they'd felt his.

The Keeper felt a moment of concern as he approached one of the cells. They knew that they had to, but they were still worried about him touching their defences. He was already so hurt, they didn't much desire to burden him with theirs too.

His fingers touched the bars, and the explosion of pain hit like a bludgeon to the head. That familiar disgust that crawled under the skin, that made them want to tear at it, and rip it all off just to get it out. Then, Sebastian was gone, and they were left disoriented, trembling upon the mattress once more.

Several minutes passed, the sharp sensation slowly ebbing as they struggled to steady their breathing, swallowing hard to keep the nausea down, and rubbing their thumb over their wrists to soothe the prickling skin.

The Keeper gave a strained laugh. “...congratulations, second try.”

“Yay.” Sebastian groaned, his hand covering his mouth like he was about to be sick.

“You alright there?” The Keeper asked with a concerned frown, a little perturbed with themselves that the words came out slightly shaky, as if their own feelings were anything new.

“Let's just say that I was expecting the physical pain, but the emotional... Well, it was a lot more horrific than I could possibly imagine.” Sebastian shuddered, releasing Ominis’ hand, and reaching out to draw the Keeper into a tight embrace.

“As were yours..." The Keeper murmured, their voice muffled as he pressed their face into his shoulder, rubbing his hands over their back and arms, as though seeking to scrape off the disgust and disgrace still clinging to and crawling all over their skin.

They hadn't thought it'd hit so hard, even after Sebastian had said it literally a few minutes ago, but it was insane, realising that he now understood on an intuitive level, exactly how their pain felt. That someone now knew the exact way that their skin burned and itched when...

That someone knew exactly what to give them. What they needed.

It was such a foreign feeling, in fact, that they were suddenly feeling uncomfortable with said fact. This was probably the most vulnerable they'd ever been. Sebastian had only touched their pain, hadn't even delved any deeper into them, and already he had a level of power that no one had ever had over them. The ability to give them precisely what they needed.

The Keeper swallowed, fear creeping up their spine, but they pushed it back down. They'd already decided to trust him and Ominis, all those months ago, when they were struggling with withdrawal from their addiction. Or perhaps the fear came from those feelings of loss they’d tasted in Sebastian, a fear that that pain might someday find its home in their own heart.

Taking a deep breath, they allowed Sebastian's touch to drive away the lingering nausea, before straightening, his grip loosening to allow them to withdraw. “I'm alright, Sebastian... thank you.”

“You don't always have to be.” Sebastian replied, his expression uncomfortably knowing, and the Keeper nodded silently, trying to collect themselves.

“I think we can stop here for today.” Ominis wore a strained smile as he reached out to pull both of them close, and placed a kiss on their foreheads, one after the other.

“How'd we do Professor Gaunt?” The Keeper asked, struggling to inject some levity into their voice, tucking their head under his chin comfortably.

“Very well, honestly. My siblings took several days to even breach each other's minds. Though, perhaps your willingness and trust in each other made it easier. I assure you that it is a testament to the strength that both of you have over your minds, that your defences even deployed correctly with so little preparation and practice.” Ominis was quiet for a few moments before continuing. “In truth, I'm not sure if there are other means of protecting memories, I'm only teaching what I learned and I don't know how any of that actually feels...”

The Keeper frowned at the carefully concealed bitterness in his voice, one they might have missed if they hadn't felt his fingers twitch on their shoulder.

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “I'd wager your family uses this method of achieving Occlumency because it works regardless of the individual's pain tolerance. After all, everyone's pain is different, and one cannot have built a tolerance for someone else's pain because they have not learnt to cope or live with it.”

“So, it hits with the impact of a sudden traumatic experience, enough to disrupt the focus of the intruder.” The Keeper nodded absently, lifting their head from Ominis’ shoulder to examine his expression.

“Exactly.” Sebastian nodded, seeming entirely lost in his churning thoughts and analysis. “I think it even helps that the person, whose mind is being invaded, can't think of anything else when the defences are triggered, thus concealing their own present thoughts. Bit of an extreme way to protect one's memories, putting yourself through a traumatic breakdown, but I have to admit, it works nonetheless.”

As Sebastian spoke, the Keeper observed Ominis’ expression. There was something almost wistful around the corners of his eyes, and perhaps some frustration in the tightness of his lips, and they recalled his words prior. I may not be able to feel your pain through Legilimency.

“Ominis... are you-” The Keeper spoke, almost without noticing it themselves, catching themselves and Sebastian's attention, before taking Ominis’ hand in their own. “Could you share with us how you're feeling?”

Ominis sighed, he should have known that he wouldn't be able to hide, sometimes he wondered if his lover was an actual mind reader. It probably would have upset him, if they hadn't proven their surprising loyalty to Sebastian and himself so quickly. If anything, it ended up being something of a relief, to not need to draw attention purposefully, to not feel guilty for being overly needy when upset.

“I- it's... incredibly inappropriate.” He shifted uncomfortably, drawing confidence from the soothing circles that the Keeper was rubbing against the back of his hand. “But, at the risk of coming off crudely, I suppose, I am... envious. Not of the pain, but well, the ability to share it in such an intimate manner.”

“I just, I try not to think about it. I can function just fine on my own, I don't- I don't need it but- but there's just... there's so many things I just can't understand, colours, and light and-” Ominis smoothed a hand over his hair, finding it difficult to put his feelings into words, his fist tightening when it returned to his lap. “And now, there's yet another thing I can't share, that I can't experience, and it's with the two of you and it's just- it's so- frustrating.”

“All because of some preposterous concept of purity that drove my ancestors to bed their blasted siblings to the point where I was born- born broken!” Ominis covered his mouth as the last word came out, a shaky breath choking past his lips.

“Love...” The Keeper murmured, placing their hand gently on his arm. “You're not broken...”

“I know!” Ominis burst out, shaking their hand off, his breathing agitated and his voice rising with anguish. “But I want- I want to share my pain with the two of you! I want to have that understanding! I know it's selfish, it's childish, but I just- it's not fair!”

His voice broke on the last words, shattering Sebastian's restraint along with them.

“But you have!” Sebastian exclaimed, reaching past the Keeper to grab Ominis by the shoulders and shake him. “Ominis! You're doing it right now!”

Ominis’ eyes were wide, and Sebastian's voice cracked, tight with emotion. “Don't call yourself selfish or childish for wanting to connect with us! Because you're right. It's not fair. And you don't have to be okay with it!”

Ominis’ breathing began to slow as Sebastian's hands clenched tightly around his shoulders, his eyes quickly filled with tears, and they rolled down his fair skin in thin streams.

“Ominis. Sebastian and I may have touched each other's pain, but without the empathy and love for each other, it would have done nothing to connect us.” The Keeper gently dabbed at the wetness on his cheeks with their sleeve. “We merely attained a quick shortcut in exchange for a jarring reminder. What you've done just now is the same, and you've felt our pain before, remember?”

Ominis’ breath caught, recalling this very cottage, holding Sebastian in his arms as the boy was overcome with fear and regret, sobbing on the floor hard enough to pass out. The Keeper sitting on a step as they panicked over their addiction and loss of magical control, the trap they'd run headfirst into with reckless abandon.

Ominis closed his eyes with a weak smile. They were right, he'd already felt them, held them, both of them, when they were at their lowest, when they needed him. It wasn't like his family, where he was left alone, left out, where no one bothered to explain things to him, things he had no way of understanding. Where he was treated like an afterthought.

Perhaps, the Keeper was right here too, even if he had been able to use Legilimency, he might still not have been able to understand his parents or his siblings. He might still not have been able to understand how they could cast the Cruciatus curse on him, when he'd loved them so much. Perhaps, even with Legilimency, they might not have understood how he'd felt, might not have cared enough to understand.

He sniffed, hiccupping lightly as he felt the Keeper's arm around his shoulder and then Sebastian's, then the warmth of their breaths against his cheeks and the press of their foreheads against his.

“T- thank you...” Ominis could barely get the words out, but his heart was light and for once...

...he wasn't the odd one out.

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine, toff.”

A jet of cold water hit his face and Macnair shot upright on his cot with a gasp, shaking the water from his head frantically. His eyes darted about, searching for the source of his jarring awakening, and quickly spotting the Keeper standing next to him in his cell.

He recoiled in fear, pressing his back against the wall while wiping the water from his face with a hand, the one that still had fingers that is.

“Had a nice sleep?” The Keeper asked pleasantly, their good-natured tone only serving to heighten his terror.

“Wha- what do you... want?” His stammer only made their smile widen into a sharp grin.

“Wouldn't you like to know.” They chuckled, reaching forward to grab him by his grubby collar and drag him bodily in the direction of the wall.

Naturally, he immediately panicked and began struggling, grabbing their arm, and digging his heels into the cot's mattress, his breath wheezing sharply through his teeth.

“I take it you'd like to lose more fingers?” The Keeper asked flatly, levelling him with a cold gaze.

Macnair flinched and dutifully ceased his futile resistance, though he still dragged his feet reluctantly and, with some impatience, the Keeper pushed him up against the wall, where the manacles automatically clamped around his wrists and ankles the moment that they were within range.

“Pl- please-” The shaky words fell from his trembling lips repeatedly, almost like a mantra, as though his fear had robbed him of the ability to control his mouth.

The Keeper snorted, they hadn't even done that much to him. Wimp. They took a few steps to the side and set a box down on the cot, opening it to reveal an array of needles of varying sizes arranged neatly in little pockets. As they considered their options, the sound of footsteps approaching caught their attention, and they looked up as Sebastian entered the cell.

“Oh, good. I'm not too late.” Sebastian quipped, closing the door behind him.

“Just in time actually.” The Keeper chuckled as they continued to consider which needle size would be best to start with.

“Thank goodness, I hate missing violence.” Sebastian grinned, throwing Macnair a sly glance as he rolled up his sleeves.

Ignoring the renewed panicked wheezing that Macnair released at the sight of Sebastian, the Keeper snorted absently, before asking. “Don't we all. So, how'd the trap check go?”

“Pretty well, the traps caught enough Red Deer and Ibex to last us another week. Might be good to get some fishing in too if we can, since we ended up using more than expected last week.” Sebastian stood beside Macnair, patting him on the cheek tauntingly. “You should be grateful that we're feeding you, you bloody wanker.”

“Oh, but he's not bloody. Yet.” The Keeper grinned as they collected a few needles from the box and turned to face the boys, hearing Macnair let out a whimper as they spoke. “But that's good to hear, the less we have to buy, the better.”

Sebastian nodded, before asking in turn. “How'd the brewing go?”

“Smoothly, we have plenty of wiggenweld and other potions to sell now. And after today's instruction, Tibsy should have no trouble providing Ominis with visual aid during potion brewing for the foreseeable future.” The Keeper's expression was quite satisfied as they came to stand before Macnair, raising the needles with a playful grin. “Now, shall we?”

“After you.” Sebastian waved a hand towards Macnair with a wave and a slight bow of the head.

Without any further preamble, or warning, the Keeper adjusted their grip on a single long needle and stabbed it into Macnair’s side, wedging it between his ribs and drawing a startled squeal of pain from the boy.

Sebastian snickered. “Well I'll be, Macnair, you sound exactly like the pig you are.”

“W- why-” Macnair whimpered, looking down at the piece of metal lodged in his torso, every breath pulling on the sensitive skin around the needle and tugging against his flesh.

The Keeper drew their wand nonchalantly and, ignoring his flinch, held their wand over the boy while tapping into their Ancient magic. They weren't really sure how to do this, without Isidora’s guidance, but they knew that Ancient magic was involved. So, they pulled that magic to the tip of their wand and closed their eyes, recalling the feeling of the pain energy they'd become so familiar with over the last year and trying to hold that sensation in their mind.

For a few frustrating moments, there was nothing. Then the Keeper felt something, a slight hum along their wand, as though something were pushing against the thin and misty funnel of Ancient magic that was fanning out from its tip. They shifted the wand, feeling the pressure lessen when they withdrew and increase as they pressed close. What was this? It didn't feel like pain energy.

They opened their eyes, frowning as Macnair blubbered and sobbed.

“Shut up, you're distracting them.” Sebastian scolded, flicking the needle as punishment and getting another high-pitched whimper in response.

As he did so, the Keeper felt something zing through their wand and dance along the tips of their fingers, and then it was gone.

With a hum, they flicked the needle themselves this time, but nothing happened. Well, besides a strangled gasp from Macnair, but that wasn't important.

With a nod to themselves, the Keeper offered the remaining needles to Sebastian. “Here, you can do the rest.”

“Really?” Sebastian asked with some surprise.

“Yes, I want to see if I can find that feeling again.” The Keeper explained as they readied their wand, focusing again.

“Alright then.” Sebastian grinned, rolling the needles in his fingers, and looking over Macnair speculatively.

Closing their eyes again, the Keeper moved their wand over the curious pressure radiating from Macnair’s body, when a shriek of pain rang out. At the same time, they felt the pressure almost... ripple, like the surface of water when a pebble was thrown into it. It was that feeling again, rippling over the pressure against their wand and zinging up along it, and they realised.

This pressure was Macnair’s magical, or possibly life, energy. An ephemeral aura radiating from his body.

“Flick it.” The Keeper instructed Sebastian, their eyes remaining closed as they did so.

A moment later, there was another whimper and the ripple happened again. The synchronisation of the ripples and pain inflicted was too consistent to be a coincidence, this had to be the energy that they were looking for. The Keeper grinned with excitement, shifting their wand towards the source of the ripple, pushing out more of their own Ancient magic to get a clearer feel for the shape of Macnair’s aura. Their wand almost acted like a candle, illuminating a small area of his aura as they moved.

“Again.” The Keeper murmured, focusing harder, and the ripple occurred once more, but with much less intensity than before.

Did the physical pain lessen, even though he was clearly still hurt? Did he become numb? Or was it the impact, that it made on his psyche, that was lessened, due to already being injured for a while, like some sort of coping mechanism?

“Again.” They instructed, frowning as they continued to move their wand, struggling to pick up the slightest change.

“Again.” The signal was stronger now, strange.

“Again.” Weaker this time, like before.

While it was difficult to detect the ripples, it helped that the length of their wand and its fulcrum effect, were amplifying the weak pressure against the tip of their wand into a stronger movement against their fingers.

“Again.” Blast, they weren't sure which direction that had been from.

The ripples almost felt like they were bouncing off a wall, distorting the direction from which it was emanating. Were the ripples hitting the edges of his body?

“Again.” Oh, it was this side...

“Again.” Getting closer...

“Almost..."

There.

The Keeper's breath caught as the faint, barely perceptible ripples began vibrating in a ring around the tip of their wand, indicating that they had found its source, and they opened their eyes, already knowing what they'd see.

A victorious grin stretched across their face. Bullseye. Their wand trembled as it hovered over the needle embedded in Macnair’s right underarm, buried in the soft and sensitive pit under his outstretched arm. Well, that explained the ripples lasting longer, that looked painful.

“Love, are you alright?” Sebastian's worried voice shook them from their reverie.

“Huh?” The Keeper blinked at him unintelligently, wondering what he was on about, when he reached over to brush his hand over their forehead, surprising them when it came away shiny with moisture.

“You're sweating all over, maybe we should take a break.” Sebastian frowned, taking a handkerchief from his pocket, and dabbing at their face.

That was about the time when the Keeper noticed that their breathing was laboured and their grip on their wand was shaky. Perhaps from the constant stream of Ancient magic that they had been using, or perhaps from being so focused for... how long have we been doing this-

“I- ...yeah. I guess that took more out of me than I expected.” The Keeper nodded absently, straightening, and taking a step back, wavering in place unsteadily enough for Sebastian to wrap an arm around their shoulders in alarm. “How long...“

“Oh, you don't say.” Sebastian rolled his eyes as he ushered them over to a wall to lean against. “You've been at this for a little over two hours now.”

“Huh. Didn't feel that long.” The Keeper murmured, giving Macnair an unimpressed stare as Sebastian went back to the boy. Only two needles and already he was hyperventilating.

Granted they were pretty long needles, so breathing was probably awful for him right about now. Perhaps their theory that a duration of recovery time between each instance of pain, made pain worse, or hit harder at least, was correct.

“We really should get a gag.” The Keeper rolled their eyes when Macnair thrashed in pain, the fingers of his hand spasming erratically as Sebastian pulled the needle from his side. Making a point of removing it slowly and at an angle so the tip scraped along his insides, before adding the used needle to the unused needles in Sebastian's right hand.

“I'll tell Tynx to add it to his grocery list. Oh, hold still you fuckin-” Sebastian growled as he shook the boy's fingers off his right hand while trying to get a grip on the needle lodged in Macnair’s armpit.

“Were you only flicking the needle?” The Keeper asked curiously, noting that the skin around the remaining needle's entry point was inflamed, stretched and extremely bloody, compared to the first needle.

...wait. Was that two needles under Macnair’s arm?

“Did it make a difference?” Sebastian's eyes lit up and he spun around to face them with an excited expression, holding up the two bloody needles in his left hand. “I shook it up after the first flick. Went to rotating it, and then wiggling it, and then I noticed him drifting off, so I stabbed another in and stirred and..."

The Keeper smiled fondly as he enthusiastically described the different means with which he'd increased the impact of that one injury, Sebastian could be so cute sometimes. Well, it seemed like varying the type of stimulus also increased the impact of pain, interesting.

“Very clever, and yes, it certainly helped, made it much easier for me to trace his pain to its source.” The Keeper nodded approvingly.

Sebastian's initiative was always such a boon to them. He wasn't simply standing around getting bored when they were taking the helm, he was using his brain and actively trying to help, and that made him a wonderful partner in any endeavour.

That or he was just having fun.

“Well, I'm glad to have been of service.” Sebastian bowed with a flourish.

“Perhaps with more practice, I'll be able to do so faster and with less effort... then I can try to extract it.” The Keeper nodded to themselves absently. “We're making progress.”

“Think you're still up for tonight's Occlumency lesson?” Sebastian asked with some concern.

“Of course, I'm sure I'll feel better after a proper bath and some food.” The Keeper waved a hand dismissively.

“If you say so.” Sebastian flashed them a wry smile, turning back to Macnair and dropping him from the shackles. “Don't expect me to come to your rescue if Ominis decides that you're pushing yourself and didn’t tell him.”

The Keeper chuckled as Sebastian dropped the needles back into the box, before picking it up and carrying it over to them. All while Macnair lay in a fetal position on the floor against the wall. They considered dragging his arse to the bed, but decided that they couldn't be bothered, they'd just send Tynx to feed him a wiggenweld later, like last time and have the elf sanitise the needles as well.

Taking the box and pushing off the wall, the Keeper was relieved to find that their strength had returned somewhat. “Come on, let's get going then.”

“Bye piggy.” Sebastian beamed down at Macnair, stepping on the boy's curled up back on his way out and following after the Keeper at a relaxed gait.

As the door sealed shut behind the two, Macnair ground his teeth. Such disgrace, he'd never had any illusion that he was smarter or stronger than his older siblings or even his peers, but the sheer level of disregard his captors were giving him was almost more offensive than the torturous pain that they were putting him through.

Merlin, the pain. His parents had never been afraid of belting him, but that didn’t even come close to the agony that he was experiencing in this disgusting cell. He still wanted the mudblood dead, sure, but if he'd known how sadistic and cruel they and their fucking mutt Sallow were, he probably wouldn't have picked a fight with them.

He groaned in pain as he moved stiffly, going to push himself up with his right hand, only to remember for the nth time that his fingers were gone. That damn mudblood, he shifted his weight carefully, his right shoulder burning with agony after Sallow played around in it, he didn't even want to know how the wound looked.

It had hurt his pride terribly to blubber like a coward, especially because of how easy it had been to do so, but it'd had to be done. Those two would come to regret underestimating him. This he swore as he tightened his left hand around a long, thin...

...needle.

“Thank you for your help, Tibsy.” Ominis smiled as he flicked his wand, vanishing the remains of the last potion inside the cauldron, while the elf busied herself with cleaning the potions station.

“Tibsy is happy to be being of helps to Sir Ominis!” The small elf beamed brightly as she tidied up, snapping her fingers to send the remaining ingredients floating back into the cabinet. “Sir Ominis can leave cleaning to Tibsy!”

“Alright, I'll leave this in your capable hands.” Ominis nodded as he folded his apron and set it down on the table. It really was nice to have such a cheerful and pleasant servant. He liked Tynx well enough, but the older elf reminded him too much of the jaded and cold elves in his ho- his parent's home.

He was feeling quite cheerful as he left the barely furnished Potions Lab on the second basement level. The floor was still barely developed, bare bricks lining the ground and walls, but the room he, the Keeper and Tibsy had been working in, was at least furnished with two cabinets and a potions station. They'd given it priority since potion making was a rather substantial necessity.

Taking a right turn and heading up the steps to the first basement level, Ominis idly considered that it might be good to get in some strength training this holiday. While most wizards and witches didn't bother with physical strength, and Hogwarts’ Grand Staircase was considered as sufficient exercise by most students, he'd started to feel a little inferior in that aspect, next to his lovers.

As he made his way past the staircase leading to the Dungeons, Ominis shivered in discomfort. The Keeper had left several minutes ago, and he could only imagine what they were doing with Macnair or Selwyn right now.

Nope, he didn't need to imagine it, nor did he want to, Ominis shook his head and continued, quickly climbing the stairs to leave the basement altogether. He'd made a few visits into the Dungeons to heal Selwyn, but he'd avoided spending too much time down there if he could help it.

Emerging from under the tent flap, he made his way across the sanded floor that made up the foundation of what would become their home. Ducking under some crossbeams and stepping around a few crates, he carefully descended the short flight of stairs down to the courtyard's cobblestone path.

Ominis sighed, following the cobblestone path towards the greenhouses absently. It was nice that the Keeper had had time to spend brewing potions with him this morning, they and Sebastian had spent most of their first holiday week running themselves ragged with Tynx and Tibsy on the castle. Preparing the bricks and layering them into the various measured rooms in advance, before letting them sit for the next two weeks or so, to cure and dry.

It had been quite a novel idea to Ominis when he'd heard it, creating the rooms in advance, so that when all of them were dry, they could simply levitate the ready-made rooms into place, quite like that of a dollhouse. This allowed them to work on the various rooms without endangering their lives by working at an elevated height. It did touch him that they'd gone to such lengths to satisfy him when he'd expressed concern, Sebastian's mind was truly a brilliant thing when he put it to good use.

Now that the two were done with the walls and were leaving them to dry, perhaps his lovers would have more time to spend with him.

Ominis felt his cheeks warm at the thought, it- it wasn't like he was some dainty lady wanting attention from his working partners. He'd been working too, tending the greenhouses, and helping Tibsy with thinning out the courtyard's dominant grass species and seeding the clover to grow in its place. He'd offered to help with the construction, and it’d been the other two who'd insisted that he would hate working in the summer heat and that the two of them were enough.

He wondered if they didn't think him strong enough for more physically strenuous work...

Shaking his head, Ominis slipped into the greenhouse, his partners weren't like that. There were a great many people who'd looked down on him, who'd thought him incapable just because he couldn't see, but there was a difference between consideration and condescension. His lovers simply didn't want Ominis to exert himself or put himself through physical discomfort… right?

“Speaker!”

“Speaker's here!”

Ominis smiled softly, he was really getting used to this, each day the girls were always excited to see him, and it warmed his heart every single time without fail. He hadn't imagined that he would come to love them so deeply, the twins weren't extremely intelligent, but they were the sweetest creatures he'd ever known.

“Hello, little ones.” Ominis greeted, his feet effortlessly carrying him over to their basin.

To his surprise however, as he neared the nest, Mira let out an alarmed hiss. “Eww- Speaker smells bad!”

“Why does Speaker smell like that?” Kira echoed, shaking her head as though to dispel the stench from her snout.

Ominis blinked for a moment, before laughing sheepishly. “Ah, I apologise, my dears. I was brewing potions. I suppose the fumes must be irritating to your sensitive little noses.”

“Not little!” Mira protested, while Kira hissed curiously. “Potionssss?”

“You needn't concern yourselves, it'll dissipate in time.” Ominis shook his head, staying a few steps away to spare the girls their sensitive olfactory.

“Speaaakeeeeer.” Mira whined. “Can we go outside?”

“Yes, we're bored!” Kira agreed, bobbing her head excitedly. “We want to go out!”

Ominis frowned. “It's dangerous outside, there are many creatures that could harm the two of you.”

The girls thumped their tail on the rock that they were lounging upon, and Mira hissed irritably. “Speaker brought us out to the loud falling water, why can't we go out again?”

Ominis paused, that's right, they'd brought the girls with them to the picnic at the waterfall, but that had been when the twins were still small, clumsy, and easy to hold in a hand. Not to mention, the girls had also been wary of the fact that they were a tiny snake in a big world. Now, however, the last few months of care had given the twin snakes a great increase in length, they were almost as long as his arm and half as thick as his wrist. What if they decided that they no longer needed his protection and swam or slithered away?

He frowned at the thought, was that what he was afraid of? That the girls would leave him? Yet... right now, despite having grown larger, the girls could still barely coordinate themselves enough to move in a straight line. That was probably more concerning than his fears, if the girls were ever separated from him, with or against their will, if they couldn't fend for themselves even in the slightest... couldn't even flee an attacker...

“Alright. We can go down to the lake today.” Ominis nodded, their ability to survive came first and he forcefully tucked away his fear of being abandoned, of being left behind.

“Yes!” The twins hissed in unison.

“Tynx.” Ominis called out, and after a moment, the elf popped into being just a few steps away from him.

“Yes, Sir Ominis?” The house elf bowed his head respectfully, even though he knew Ominis couldn't see him.

“Please help me inform my lovers when they are finished in the Dungeons, that they can find us down at the lake on the bank closest to Dìon.” Ominis instructed as he began to undo the top button of his cream toned button-down.

Tynx nodded, before asking politely. “Yes sir, is there anything else you need?”

“Nothing else, thank you. You may go.” Ominis shook his head and the elf popped away promptly.

Certainly not one for pleasantries, that elf. Then again, he supposed that wasn't very different from the Keeper themselves, Ominis mused as he shrugged off his shirt. It wasn't like there was anyone to see him in the entire territory, and he didn't want to distress the girls with the offensive smells clinging to his clothing.

“Come then, little ones.” Ominis smiled, offering his hand to the girls, and feeling them eagerly coil upwards along his arm before draping themselves over his shoulders comfortably.

“Speaker still smells bad...” Mira whined, and Kira hissed quietly in reprimand at her. “Quiet, Speaker might change his mind.”

Ominis chuckled, making his way towards the exit, and holding back a sigh as he pushed the door open. It was going to be quite a long walk. At least he could take a dip in the lake to wash off the smells and sweat some when they got there.

By the time Ominis arrived at the lakeside, the sun was already starting to dip towards the east and a quick tempus informed him that it was just past four in the afternoon. At least the walk had been a mostly comfortable downhill descent, in the presence of pleasant company, and he wasn't feeling very tired as a result.

Dodging the Keeper and Sebastian's traps had also been fairly effortless, since Ominis’ wand sight could easily reveal them and he'd long since been briefed on what types of traps littered their territory. Making it a simple matter of avoiding the bear traps, pitfalls, and spikes. He tried not to think too hard about how it'd feel to actually fall into one of them.

The gentle sound of flowing water rippling against the lakeshore was soothing to his ears and he found himself instinctively relaxing at the serene atmosphere as he neared the lake, the inane chatter of the twin snakes in his ears. Scanning the pebble lined bank with his magic, he quickly found a portion of the shallow water that was suitable for his purposes.

Pausing to tug his shoes and socks off, Ominis tucked the small cloth neatly into his shoes, before removing his pants and draping it over the branch of a nearby tree. Left in his undergarments, he made his way over to the shoreline, enjoying the cool water lapping at his bare feet, as well as the soft and fine sand between his toes.

Standing beside the spot he'd chosen, Ominis made a sweeping motion with his wand, easily targeting several small rocks scattered about the sand before sending his magic out to all of them with a flick. “Wingardium leviosa!”

All as one, the rocks were lifted from their resting places and swirled through the air in a long trail, following the swish of his wand, before coming to rest in a wide circle at his feet. The rocks lined up neatly, forming a wall that cordoned off a shallow pool of water a few metres wide and he carefully scrutinised it for any gaps in the barrier, adjusting some of the rocks’ positions until he was satisfied.

Next, he turned his focus to the lake, scanning it with his wand sight, until he found several small fishes swimming by in a school.

Once more, he targeted these little bodies of fish with his magic easily, undeterred by the speed of their movements as he plucked them from the water like an expert archer, one after the other. “Accio! ...accio. Accio!”

One, two, three, in no time, the small pond he'd isolated had now three little fish swimming frantically within its borders. Pleased with his results, Ominis ran his fingers gently along the twins’ scales and knelt beside the pool, lowering an arm down into the water. “Now, little ones, I will teach you how to swim and hunt together.”

“Food!” Mira exclaimed excitedly, immediately extending her neck towards the pool, and coiling down towards it along his arm.

Unfortunately however, Kira didn't seem to have gotten the memo and was dragged along, only for her hesitation to disrupt their coiling body and send the twins flailing into the pool. Ominis smiled wryly, sighing as he listened to them thrash for a moment before righting themselves in the pool and immediately begin hissing at each other angrily.

“Girls...” Ominis shook his head when they ignored him, sighing again before reaching out a hand to flick them on the tail.

“Ow, Speakeeeeer!” Mira whined, while Kira pulled their tail closer defensively. “Speaker, Mira's being stupid!”

“I'm not stupid! You're stupid!” Mira snapped back at her twin.

“Girls. Food.” Ominis reminded, and as expected, the girls abruptly forgot their argument.

“Food? Food!” The two hissed in unison and shot towards the closest fish.

“Hang on.” Ominis shook his head, grabbing them by the tail before they got very far. “First, the two of you need to learn coordination.”

“Coor-?” Mira echoed, while Kira hissed insistently. “But the food will get away!”

“No, they won't. The food are trapped in here with the two of you, but if you want to catch them, you'll need to work together.” Ominis explained patiently. “I know neither of you chose to be together, but you have to learn to live with it.”

“...fine.” Mira hissed and Kira grumbled for a moment before conceding. “Fine, even if she is stupid.”

“Good.” Ominis continued quickly before the spat could resume, standing and planting his feet in a commanding stance. “Now, the two of you struggle with moving because each of you controls a section of your body. So, you'll need to take turns moving the part of your body that you control, in order to move in a straight line.”

“When I say your name, I want the one I name to constrict and the other to relax, alright?” Ominis folded his arms, waiting for the girls to hiss their confirmations. “Then, let's begin.”

“Mira!” Ominis hissed, and she tightened her segments while Kira relaxed, causing them to wiggle to the left.

“Kira!” Ominis hissed, and she tightened her segments while Mira relaxed, causing them to wiggle to the right.

Their first lap across the pool was closer to a bolt of lopsided lightning than a straight line. With Mira or Kira struggling to regulate the force, with which each constricted, parallel to the other's, to avoid swerving too much in one direction. Naturally, that came with a slew of arguments on the nature of the other's intelligence.

This continued for a little under an hour, the twin snakes taking turns to tighten and loosen, until finally...

“Speeeeeed!” Mira squealed excitedly as the twins shot forward through the water.

“Turn coming up, Kira! And Kira again!” Ominis called out, watching with his wand as the girls cut through the shallow pool with their powerful muscles, taking a sharp right turn before the rock wall. His heart swelled with pride, the girls were growing up. “Mira!”

“Yessss!” Mira hissed excitedly and Ominis smiled in amusement, she was so chatty when swimming, Kira in contrast was silent in sharp focus. He could already tell that Mira would want to shot call when they began to practice moving on their own, without his direction.

After a few moments, the girls came to a stop in front of Ominis, raising their necks proudly as he stooped to kneel before them again.

“Did you see Speaker!?” Mira asked eagerly while Kira nuzzled against Ominis’ outstretched fingers.

“Yes, I saw.” Ominis replied with a soft smile.

“Really? You're not just saying it?” Mira asked and he chuckled, the girls always seemed rather sceptical that he could ‘see’ despite being blind.

“I'm not lying, I told you two to turn at the wall, didn't I?” Ominis answered gently. “Now, we can move on to the next step.”

“Food!” Kira hissed excitedly.

“Yes, next you'll practice attacking. As the two of you move, only one of you will be facing forward at a time. So, whomever is within range can bite, let go, and then the other can bite as well.” Ominis instructed, this way, the girls would be able to deal consecutive attacks in rapid succession. “Ready?”

“Ready!” The girls hissed in unison as they turned to face the closest fish.

“Kira! Mira! Kira! Mira!”

With a flash of sharp teeth came a bloom of red spreading through the water.

“Oh, there he is!” Sebastian removed a hand from around the Keeper's waist and pointed towards the ground.

Following his gesture with their eyes, the Keeper nodded and adjusted the grip of their ankles against Sepulchria's sides, urging the thestral flying over the plains to descend in the direction of the lakeside. With a gruff neigh, the powerful mount's wings spread wide, catching the blanket of air, and slowing its descent as her hooves clopped upon the sand.

Trotting for a few metres, the thestral came to a slow stop a few steps away from Ominis as the sound of hisses drifted through the air. The Keeper couldn’t help but shiver as those hisses reached their ears, making Sebastian snicker, and they huffed, rolling their eyes as he dropped down from Sepulchria's back.

As he did so, the hisses faded, and Ominis turned to grace the Keeper and Sebastian with a soft smile. The late afternoon sun reflected off the water's surface, providing a glimmering backdrop to Ominis’ slender figure as he stood in the shallow water in his undergarments. At the ethereal sight, Sebastian was struck with the familiar urge to embrace his lover once more.

“Why, hello there, fancy meeting the two of you here.” Ominis greeted coyly with a playful smile.

“Ominis!” Sebastian beamed, splashing through the shallow water, opening his arms wide and throwing himself towards the blond, who promptly sidestepped without the slightest change in expression.

“Wah!” Sebastian yelped as he fell forwards and face first into the lake. Flailing for a moment, Sebastian eventually got his hands under himself and pushed his head back up, over the surface of the water. He spluttered and coughed a few times, before turning around to sit in the knee-high water with a whine. “Omiiii, what'd you do that for?”

“You stink of blood, Sebastian.” Ominis tipped his chin up, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“Pffffbbt.” Sebastian blew a breath through his lips sulkily.

“You can have a hug after you've cleaned off a tad.” Ominis waved a hand dismissively.

“Does that apply to me as well, love?” The Keeper chuckled as they strolled over, having tossed their clothing over a nearby tree branch while Sebastian was fussing.

“Of course.” Ominis raised an eyebrow warily as the Keeper approached, though he relaxed when they made no move to embrace him, instead merely leaning forward to place a kiss on his cheek as they held their hands behind their back.

“Give me a moment then.” The Keeper grinned, taking a few steps to the side, and stooping beside Sebastian to splash the water on their arms, washing even the smallest traces of blood from their skin and hair.

With a sigh, Sebastian dunked his head back into the water, to actually wash himself this time. Grumbling to himself, he shook his shirt out in the water too before standing to remove the garment, hopping on one leg as he struggled to peel the wet fabric of his pants from his skin. Laughing, the Keeper reached out to steady Sebastian, gripping his shoulders firmly so he could focus on dragging the heavy cloth off without losing his balance.

“Thanks.” Sebastian flashed them a sheepish grin before splashing towards the bank, finding the tree that his lovers had hung their clothing upon and choosing a separate branch to lay his clothing out to dry.

As he did so, the Keeper took the opportunity to slip their arms around Ominis’ waist, enjoying the sound of his hisses as he spoke with the twin snakes, their eyes fogging over with lust at the sensual language. It took everything in their power to resist snacking on the tempting fair skin of his nape, resting their cheek against it instead. They didn't want him to smack them for distracting him... or maybe they did?

As the Keeper pondered this, Sebastian came over and peered into the cordoned off pool curiously, spotting a single small fish swimming on the other side of the pool, before asking absently. “How'd you get that fish in there?”

“Easily.” Ominis smiled wryly and leisurely flicked his wand off to the side without turning his head. “Accio.”

As Ominis did so, a large fish was plucked from the waters, seemingly without much effort on his part and brought to hover before him over his wand.

Sebastian's eyes were wide. “You never told me you were good at fishing.”

“You never asked.” Ominis shrugged, tossing the fish at Sebastian, who scrambled to catch the slippery thing and, naturally, failed. The fish dropped into the pool with the snakes with a plop.

“It's pretty impressive, we should spend some time at our beach, we can probably get a fairly sizable haul with your skill.” The Keeper purred, letting their lips brush against the shell of Ominis’ ear, and delighting in the goosebumps that raised on his skin.

Sebastian eyed the Keeper for a moment, before folding his arms and cocking an eyebrow. “Hey, quit hogging him, I'm still waiting for my hug.”

Flashing Sebastian a smirk, the Keeper swiped their tongue along Ominis’ nape and the blond promptly slapped them on the back of the arm that was wrapped around his waist, his ears red as he wiggled free.

“The two of you are unbelievable.” Ominis grumbled, the redness spreading down his neck when Sebastian took the opportunity to latch onto him.

“You promised I'd get a hug too.” Sebastian grinned broadly while the Keeper laughed merrily, as they took a seat beside the pool, reaching over the rocks to pet the twin snakes and smiling when the girls hissed contentedly.

Ominis sighed, slumping in defeat as Sebastian pressed his face against the blond's collar. “I swear, the two of you are so clingy.”

Sebastian pouted. “Come on Ominis, I haven't seen you all day.”

“You would have if you'd woken up earlier.” Ominis rolled his eyes, though that reminded him of his earlier thoughts. He paused for a moment before asking hesitantly. “I don't suppose there's anything I could help with around the castle?”

The Keeper blinked, that came out of nowhere. “Hm, right now we're waiting for the bricks to dry while we're running our tests...”

Ominis grimaced at the reminder of their experiments and Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, before perking up. “Oh hey, we haven't started preparing the Vivariums.”

“That's true, it should be simple enough to craft the small building and four entryways, then we can cast a few expansion charms and start preparing them for the beasts.” The Keeper nodded and now it was Ominis’ turn to look thoughtful.

“Well, I do know how to cast expansion charms, I can probably handle it with Tibsy's help, but I'm not entirely sure what the beasts might need.” Ominis frowned, absently stroking his fingers through Sebastian's hair, seemingly without noticing his own actions.

“I can't say I know much beyond the basics since Deek has done most of the caring for my beasts up to this point. Perhaps you can consult Poppy? She is extremely reliable when it comes to care of magical beasts.” The Keeper suggested.

Ominis’ fingers came to a stop upon Sebastian's head, a pinch of nervousness tightening in his chest, his voice was small as he spoke. “I- do you really think she'd welcome such a request from... me?”

The Keeper frowned at the self-deprecating doubt in his voice, standing and placing a hand on his cheek. “Ominis, you are no less than anyone else, love. In fact, you're quite wonderful and you can trust my judge of character. She will not hurt you.”

And if she did, not even Poppy would be exempt from my wrath. The Keeper's eyes narrowed.

Ominis smiled, covering their hand with his own and closing his eyes as they pressed a soft kiss against his lips, feeling safe within Sebastian's warm embrace and the Keeper's gentle reassurance.

He'd think of what to write tomorrow, for now he'd enjoy the moment and try not to think about the possibility of being rejected again when extending a hand to someone else when he was in need...

Chapter Text

“Now, shall we find out if the two of you have been doing your meditation practices since our lesson last week?” Ominis flashed a teasing smile as the three settled comfortably on their cottage bed.

“Well, I have. And you, Sebastian?” The Keeper smirked as they turned to him.

Raising an eyebrow, Sebastian eyed them suspiciously. “I've done my homework, though I'm not sure I'm ready for whatever you've got planned.”

“I haven't the foggiest idea what you speak of.” The Keeper shook their head with an innocent smile, placing their elbow on their knee and resting their chin on their knuckles casually.

“Yeah, sure you don't.” Sebastian rolled his eyes before turning to Ominis. “So, what's the next step?”

“After meditating daily on the segregation of those memories, your subconscious mind should already be well into the process of placing memories in their allocated locations.” Ominis explained. “The next step is to keep your memories behind their defences without the visualisation of your mindscape.”

“Will they stay together?” The Keeper asked thoughtfully.

“Yes, the visualisation is just to train your subconscious to separate and categorise the memories.” Ominis nodded reassuringly. “After that, any visualisation only serves to aid intruders in finding the rooms.”

“So, we discard the visuals, so that the intruder doesn't find memories in the place they expect to, and then if they happen to venture into the correct location, they'll get ejected by pain.” Sebastian dropped his fist into his open palm with a gentle tap, his eyes wide with understanding. “Brilliant.”

“Exactly.” Ominis’ smile had a touch of pride to its upturn. “You'll need to fill the space, in the front of your mind, with memories and thoughts that distract the intruder, like before. The difficult part will be staying focused on that memory rather than letting the intruder realise that you've caught on that they're in your mind.”

“To give a false impression that there aren't Occlumency shields in place?” The Keeper chuckled, how very Ominis to teach them a method of making enemies underestimate them.

“Precisely. Which means that you'll need to practice shrouding your thoughts with a memory the very instant that you feel someone penetrate your mind.” Ominis nodded, his smile turning wry. “Sadly, I won't be able to help much with that, you and Sebastian will simply have to practice with each other.”

“That's alright, it's thanks to your guidance that we've even gotten this far.” The Keeper shook their head, it was a boon to have such a heavily regulated skill in their arsenal in the first place.

Ominis shook his head with a fond smile. “The two of you are easy to teach, it certainly helps.”

“Well, we can't be letting you down then, can we?” Sebastian grinned and turned to the Keeper. “Shall we?”

“Certainly, would you like me to cast first again?” The Keeper asked, a sly curl to their lips.

“And give you more time to prepare? I think not, I shall go first this time.” Sebastian proclaimed and drew his wand, rising to the challenge in their voice without hesitation.

Ominis sighed, how was Sebastian simultaneously the most intelligent and most stupid person he'd ever met?

“Ready?” Sebastian waited for their answering nod, before flicking his wand and diving into the Keeper's mind. “Legilimens.”

Unlike before, for a brief moment, he found himself in something more akin to a nebulous void, vague impressions of his lover's feelings wrapped around him, anticipation, excitement and curiosity. Before the space around him warped into the familiar path that led into the Undercroft.

He hummed, trying to extract himself from the memory, but it only sharpened with more persistence, hitting him with feelings of exhaustion, exasperation and a lingering disbelief that bled into him as he was dragged through the memory.

It was a rather bizarre feeling, when the Undercroft gates rose and he found himself staring at... himself, though he was flattered by the surge of affection that rippled through him in this moment, along with God, he's so hot, mine mine mine min-.

Which made him at once both amused and curious, so he scrutinised himself a little harder. Did his hair really look that soft? Were his shoulders really that broad and his stance that powerful? Somehow Sebastian felt like the person the Keeper was looking at wasn't quite the same person he saw in the mirror, or at least, that they were focusing on the more attractive aspects of himself and seemingly blind to the parts of his appearance that he didn't think were attractive.

He distantly noted the smell of smoke hanging in the air and he heard the Keeper's voice echo strangely in his body, before the memory of himself looked up.

Oh.

Sebastian was struck by a wave of apprehension, this time entirely his own, when he recognised the moment that this memory took place.

As he watched himself storm over, a strong sense of shock and confusion pulsed around him when the memory of Sebastian grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him against the wall, feeling fingers tighten around his throat. Oh Merlin, of all memories to show him, was his lover trying to get back at him for his shameful behaviour? Surely, they knew how much he regrets it already...

Though, he certainly didn't have time to speculate, as the sheer discomfort and just- weirdness of kissing himself promptly occupied his thoughts thoroughly. Well, at least he wasn't a bad kisser. Apparently. That was something, at least.

Well, never can deny my boys anything. Especially when he clearly needs it.

Sebastian found himself both bemused and flattered as the thought drifted through him. Now that he thought about it, they had indeed never refused a request, from him or Ominis at least. He would have been worried that they didn't know how to say no, if they weren't already flipping other people off on a regular basis.

Then he felt teeth sink into his lip, the sensation of his own body pressed against him, his airways closing and...

Pleasure.

It hit him like a lungful of smoke, so unbelievably strong. The Keeper's desire and ecstasy, a fire burning deliciously on his lips, his heart pounding in his ears. It was overwhelming, the elation and mind-numbing euphoria rippling through them, almost searing him with its intensity.

So powerfully, in fact, that Sebastian quickly found himself losing focus and tumbling from their mind. His breathing was heavy as he struggled to reorient himself. Fuck- When they'd insisted that they had actually enjoyed the experience, he could barely believe it, could hardly wrap his mind around the idea, but now... Merlin's beard, they actually had.

The vestiges of arousal that weren't his own, were quickly becoming so at the thought. And he'd thought he was horny. Lifting his head, Sebastian saw that heated arousal reflected in his lover's eyes, now understanding why they'd shown him this memory, not to shame him, but to reassure him.

To assure him that they'd truly, genuinely liked it, loved it in fact, that they wanted it to not be a one-time experienc- fuuuuck.

Sebastian couldn’t stop himself- didn't need to stop himself, an almost hysteric laugh bubbled in his chest- from diving across the large bed to push the Keeper onto their back, burying his face in their collar.

Burning, he was burning with desire.

“S- Sebastian!?” Ominis exclaimed in surprise at the sudden movement.

Sebastian groaned, nipping with his teeth against the Keeper's exposed neck, barely able to think enough to speak, his voice muffled around their skin. “Fuck, Omi, you won't believe how much they liked it-”

“Liked what!?” Ominis was starting to feel rather alarmed, especially at the sounds he was hearing. What in Merlin's name had they shown Sebastian!?

“...pain...” Sebastian breathed reverently, lifting himself just enough to see the Keeper's lust filled eyes, pressing his hardness against their thigh.

“Oh, for the love of-”

Sebastian abruptly found himself yanked backwards by his collar, tumbling off the bed onto the floor with a pained yelp. “Gah! What the hell-”

“Sebastian Sallow! You will not be inflicting any pain on our beloved until we have discussed it and set up boundaries! What if you go too far and cause permanent damage!? Or actually hurt them!?” Ominis scolded, towering over the two on his knees.

“What about hurting me-” Sebastian grumbled as he rubbed his bum where he'd landed.

“Alright there Sebastian?” The Keeper asked, sounding incredibly amused as they sat up to peer at him.

“And you!” Ominis spun around to face said beloved. “You shouldn't be riling him up like that before we've established rules!”

“In my defence, I didn't think he'd get that excited, and neither of you were bringing it up, so I saw an opportunity to make myself clear rather than try endlessly with mere words.” The Keeper shrugged. “Besides, I've survived far worse than anything either of you could do to me.”

Ominis brow twitched in irritation and his eyes narrowed, his hand shooting forward, with surprising speed and accuracy, to grip the Keeper's chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I wouldn't be so sure of that.”

He paused, before adding. “And wipe that smile off your face.”

The Keeper struggled to suppress their wide grin as instructed, shivering at his dangerous tone.

“It's important that we know exactly what you want and like. Even if you can't imagine it, accidents can happen if we're not careful.” Ominis insisted, loosening his grip, and cupping their jaw gently, his brows creasing imploringly. “Imagine how we'd feel if we accidentally hurt you.”

The Keeper grimaced, hard to argue with that.

“Fine, I still think you're worrying too much, but very well.” They sat up properly, crossing their legs again with a sigh. “How's that going to go anyway? It's not like I know exactly what I like and can just give you a write-up.”

“By talking until we figure it out.” Ominis sat down as well, folding his arms stubbornly.

Sebastian carefully crawled back onto the bed, eyeing Ominis warily as he did. “Somehow, I wouldn’t wager that'd go very far, not like we're all that experienced with this. Maybe we could test different stuff slowly, one at a time?”

“Great idea.” The Keeper beamed at the suggestion. They'd been looking forward to the summer break, for a chance to explore further intimacy, for far too long to just sit around talking.

“Not right now. If Sebastian's this aroused, he might not be able to control himself.” Ominis shook his head disapprovingly, tilting his head towards Sebastian. “We should wait for you to settle down first.”

“Er, I hate to inform you, Ominis, but there's no way I could be anything but horny in this type of situation.” Sebastian snorted as he sat back down.

“Really.” Ominis deadpanned.

“I could take a look, if you're sceptical.” The Keeper chuckled as they drew their wand, not waiting for Ominis to reply before casting the spell on Sebastian. “Legilimens.”

Inside his mind was a storm of arousal, adoration, need, excitement, and eagerness to please, to perform well, tempered by a wave of grudging agreement with Ominis, and frustration. The sexual kind. The Keeper left his mind quickly after ascertaining the intensity and the nature of his desire for them, to a very reassuring extent.

There was perhaps a small, secret fear that they'd held, that Sebastian, or even Ominis, might see them as simply a powerful object of desire, as convenient. It wouldn't have changed their love for the boys, but they would have been... sad. And disappointed.

It was... comforting to know that that wasn't the case, for Sebastian at least, that they'd truly moved past a relationship of mutual exploitation and convenience. He seemed to genuinely want to please them, to make them feel good, purely for the sake of it.

The Keeper cleared their throat, as they returned to themselves, before quipping. “Yeap, that's not going away any time soon.”

Ominis sighed. “Fine, I suppose I can understand that, but we'll have to be very careful, and I expect you to try to control yourself, Sebastian.”

“Come on, Ominis, you could stand to have a little more faith in me.” Sebastian smiled wryly.

“Oh, don't worry, I have about as much faith in you as I do them.” Ominis made his statement with such a flat tone that no one could possibly mistake that for a compliment.

“Really?” Sebastian beamed, sounding so pleased that the Keeper almost snorted.

Ominis closed his eyes with another sigh. “I do think, however, that we'll need a fair amount of faith for this. Faith that you'll tell us if anything is too uncomfortable.”

He levelled an imperious gaze in the Keeper's general direction, and they smiled, it really was sweet how stubborn he was about this. “Of course.”

“Bit hard to do that, isn't it?” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should use some consistent means of evaluating each action?”

“We could use Legili-” The Keeper cut themselves off with a grimace. “No, that's stupid, please forget I spoke.”

“No, that's probably the safest option, at least with Sebastian.” Ominis smiled tightly. “I'm not so fragile as to require us to discard the best option when it's at least available to one of us.”

“We could use a number system then.” Sebastian suggested. “For Ominis.”

“Hm, not a bad idea, perhaps I might be able to gauge the intensity from your reactions as well, if you were to...” Ominis took the Keeper's hand and tugged them over to straddle his legs as he lowered himself to lie on his back. His cheeks were warm as he guided their hands to rest on his shoulders while pulling their head down to press their chin against his chest, so that their behind was raised in the air. “...hold me, like so.”

Sebastian swallowed as the Keeper's knees spread on either side of Ominis’ hips, forcing down the part of his brain that was sizzling as the Keeper's position presented him with a tantalising view of their pert bum.

“And we can start with something less dangerous.” Ominis continued, and the unexpectedly husky timbre of his voice by the Keeper's ear made them shiver, they wondered how hard he was. If he was, and they really wanted to check. “I imagine a spanking would be fairly safe.”

“Hm, no arguments here, and I think this feels pretty comfortable, though perhaps I should...” The Keeper lifted their head to press their lips against Ominis’ jaw, smirking when he shivered at the teasing touch, and murmured. “Remove some... obstructions.”

“I can help with that.” Sebastian blurted out before wincing at the eagerness of his own tone, rolling his eyes when his partners laughed quietly, smothering his embarrassment as he helped the Keeper remove their garments.

Setting the clothes aside, while they returned to their previous position, Sebastian tentatively ran his hand over the Keeper’s lower back, feeling the heat radiating from their body.

“I guess, I'll start light and you can tell me how painful it is?” Sebastian suggested. “One to ten is probably wide enough a range, right?”

The Keeper shrugged. “Sure, that works. We can go over the memory later, so you have an idea of where my pain scales compared with your own.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sebastian nodded. “I think I'll count down, so that it isn't too shocking.”

“Yeah, we can go with that, for now.” The Keeper purred, resting their forehead against Ominis’ collar, and gripping his shoulders loosely while he held their waist, perhaps to feel their muscles’ reactions.

Sebastian flashed a bemused smile at their response as he kneeled beside his lovers. “Ready?”

“Yes.” The Keeper answered, feeling a mix of anticipation and some embarrassment, perhaps at how excited they were.

“Five.”

Honestly, it felt so strange, even to themselves, knowing that pain was coming but not avoiding it.

“Four.”

Not fearing it.

“Three.”

Not fighting it.

“Two.”

Not wanting to fight it.

“One.”

The slap was...

Underwhelming.

The Keeper snorted lightly at the- honestly, the word ‘tap’ would be a more appropriate descriptor.

“That's definitely a zero.” The Keeper turned around to raise an eyebrow at Sebastian.

“Hey, I'm just starting low alright?” He shrugged, waving a hand flippantly. “Safety and all that.”

“And that's good.” Ominis lifted a hand to press against the back of the Keeper's neck, pulling their head back down to rest against his chest again.

The Keeper rolled their eyes but didn't struggle against the firm grip around the base of their skull, it was pretty... nice. Oddly reassuring?

Filling their lungs with the pleasantly minty scent of Ominis’ bathing oils, the Keeper sighed and muttered exasperatedly. “Carry on then.”

Sebastian gave an amused huff at their demanding tone and began counting once more.

The next hit made a bit louder of a sound and had the accompanying impact of applause, but still didn't result in much pain.

“Two.”

The one after had a little bit more bite to it, but the Keeper was starting to get a tad impatient at the slight increment, shooting Sebastian a challenging glare. “Two and a half maybe. Come on, Sebastian, I barely felt anything. Surely you can do better.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything in reply, Ominis’ hand left the Keeper's waist and came down on their thigh with a sharp smack.

At the unexpected jolt of pain and loud sound, a startled squeak caught in their throat. Their hands clenched around Ominis’ shoulders as he glared sharply in reprimand. “No riling Sebastian up.”

The Keeper shuddered, a heated breath slipping through their parted lips at his firm tone and the lingering sting on their thigh.

“And that was?” Sebastian asked as he leaned to the side, peering at the Keeper’s flushed face with an amused grin.

“Fi- four.” The Keeper murmured, trying to savour the little shot of adrenaline they’d just gotten from the quickly fading sensation. Though they weren't quite sure if they were more aroused by the pain or the shock or Ominis’ tone or words. Or perhaps it was all of them in combination? A question to ponder upon, they supposed.

“Damn, Omi. I'm impressed.” Sebastian snickered. “And someone said I have no self-control."

Ominis promptly smacked him on the thigh too.

“Hey! Wrong target!” Sebastian complained, pressing a hand against his stinging thigh sourly.

Ominis rubbed his forehead tiredly, a breath hissing through his clenched teeth.

“Not fair, I want another one too.” The Keeper purred, parting their lips to drag their tongue up along the tempting pale skin of his neck, feeling his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“Maybe later... if you behave.” Ominis replied, his voice deep and with a dry rasp, as well as a slightly hesitant tremble to it that belied his attempt to sound confident and authoritative.

A sharp grin spread across the Keeper's face, he was getting there. They lowered their forehead back down to Ominis’ collarbone, peering up at Sebastian from the corner of their eye teasingly. “Well, think you can match that, Seb?”

Sebastian snorted and without warning, he brought his palm down on their bum once more.

That got another small, startled sound, but not quite as strong of an adrenaline jolt, the Keeper noticed curiously, despite the pain being about the same intensity. Would it happen again if the pain increased further?

“Was that the same?” Sebastian asked, rubbing his palm against the warming skin.

“Yeah, four as well.” The Keeper nodded, their anticipation returning with a vengeance. “Keep going, I can take more.”

“I'll take it that no counting is better?” Sebastian checked.

“Yeah, I think so.” The Keeper closed their eye and nuzzled their nose against the soft fabric of Ominis’ sleeping wear.

“Alright.” Sebastian grinned, quite eager to see if he could one-up Ominis’ results.

Taking a breath, Sebastian drew his hand back further for another slap. This one landed with more sound than impact and he hummed curiously. “How much was that one?”

“Still four.” The Keeper replied.

So, distance increased the sound but not the impact. Sebastian nodded to himself. “Alright, I'll try this instead then.”

This time, Sebastian positioned himself at a slight angle, raising his hand to the same height but using more strength. When his slap connected, the Keeper felt themselves pushed forward slightly by the impact, a soft but high sound squeezing from their throat at the biting sensation.

“How was that?” Sebastian asked, admiring the palm shaped flush blooming on the round curve of their bottom.

“Fi...ve, probably.” The Keeper breathed, shifting their knees, feeling the itch to rub themselves against Ominis but settling for pressing their face against his throat again. Yeap, the adrenaline was back.

“Still want it higher?” Sebastian adjusted his position again, deciding to give the other cheek some attention.

“Of course.” The Keeper scoffed, trembling slightly from the anticipation, the sting was lingering longer this time, and it was exhilarating somehow. Knowing that an even sharper pain was coming and not knowing when it would be, when they should be braced for-

The slap on the yet untouched side of their arse caught the Keeper off guard and a surprised moan left their lips. “Fuc-”

The burn was spreading up their back and down their legs like a splash of hot water, stinging as it did, and making their muscles spasm. For a split second, they were back in that dark, dirty, disgusting room, trembling in fear on the cold, rancid floor, their skin caked with a mixture of ash and drying blood, their lungs filled with tobacco smoke, their ears ringing with scathing voices and the sound of crying. Waiting, waiting for Matron's next blow, when a gentle voice cut through their disorientation.

“Love, was that too much?” Ominis’ warm hand was cupping their cheek and brushing away a tear with his thumb.

Ah. The Keeper felt a strange feeling overtake them, the contrast between the painful memories and the softness and love in his tone, the feeling of Sebastian's hand soothing the inflamed and stinging skin he'd struck. New associations mingling with old ones in a slurry that was scrambling their insides. It was heady, not unlike the satisfaction they'd get when grinding a shrunken spider under their heel. When slamming an Ashwinder into the ground and hearing the crunch of their bones breaking.

That rush of power, the assurance that they were no longer that weak vulnerable child, that they now had the upper hand, had the strength to overpower others. And now... the knowledge that this was for them, the pain they were feeling was theirs, theirs to control. That they had power over Sebastian and Ominis right now, that if they said they were done, the boys would stop.

Again. They wanted more, the disorienting high was already beginning to fade, and they wanted more of it.

“Maybe we should sto-” Ominis began worriedly.

“No, more.” The Keeper shook their head drunkenly, tilting their face to the side to take Ominis’ fingers into their mouth without much thought. Curling their tongue around his index and middle fingers, pulling them into their mouth and suckling on them.

Ominis choked on his next breath, the wet sound of their saliva and that moist heat around his sensitive digits made his brain grind to a halt and immediately begin melting. Struggling to think through the sheer arousal throbbing through his body as he felt the soft muscle slide into the space between his fingers to lap at the sensitive webbing of his palm.

“Num- number.” Shivering at the sensation, Ominis cleared his dry throat. “What number was that?”

The Keeper groaned around the slender, elegant fingers that they were worshipping, revelling in the tremble in his voice, they'd put that there. Lost in their victory, it took them a moment before they could process the question and they slurped the excess saliva before relinquishing those long fingers momentarily to answer.

“S- six. Maybe, or... or seven.” The Keeper murmured in a daze, before following that up with the more important message they needed to convey. “More, Seb.”

Sebastian, who had frozen up completely for fear that he'd gone too far, the word ‘no’ terrifying him for a split second, before he'd quickly sagged in relief when he realised it was a plea for more. He chuckled wryly. They really were a lot hornier than he'd given them credit for.

Not that he was complaining. Though, while he was tempted to just give them what they were asking for, the shock of fear that’d hit him seemed to have cleared his mind somewhat, and there was a small voice in his head, that sounded suspiciously like Ominis, telling him that they should probably figure out some better way of doing this to prevent himself, or Ominis, from going overboard with the Keeper. Some sort of quick and clear signal or something like that.

He looked at Ominis, whose fingers were back in the Keeper's mouth and being enthusiastically felatioed once more. Quickly, he determined from the blond's flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, that his brain had likely taken a hike too. Which meant that Sebastian was currently the most responsible person in the room.

That was probably not a good sign.

“Um, I think we probably shouldn't-” Sebastian began, flinching slightly at the glare the Keeper shot him from the corner of their eye. He took a breath, no no no, this was too important, he wasn't going to fuck up again, he had to stand his ground here. “I think we should probably... talk before going any further.”

His words seemed to snap Ominis out of it some, and the blond shook his head. “Yes, he- Sebastian's correct. We shouldn't-”

The Keeper growled, letting the fingers slip from their mouth again. “It's fine, I can take it. Just-”

“No. None of us are in the condition to continue nor discuss-” Ominis shook his head stubbornly, trying to sit up and the Keeper groaned in frustration. They just wanted- bloody worrywarts, arrrrrgh, fine.

“Fine.” The Keeper grumbled, shoving Ominis back down onto the bed and shimmying down to straddle his calves.

Before either boy could do more than make confused sounds, the Keeper's left hand had shot out to grab the loose hem of Sebastian's pyjama pants and pulled it down, along with his undergarments. Proceeding then to swiftly do the same to Ominis’, and in less than a minute, the Keeper was taking Ominis’ length into their mouth while wrapping their fingers around Sebastian's as well.

“Wai-” Ominis gasped, clenching his fists in the blanket, as his neglected hardness was abruptly engulfed in the delicious warmth that his still tingling fingers had been in a moment ago. A choked moan left his lips, bloody hell this little- “You-”

“If we need clear heads, let's get there so we can get back to the spanking.” The Keeper lifted their head to explain, before taking Ominis into their mouth again, dragging their tongue along his glans to ensure that he lost his words once more and couldn’t protest.

Sebastian’s laugh was cut off by a deep groan when they thumbed at his tip, yeah, that did make sense. Merlin's balls, he'd forgotten how good their lover was at sex. How in Salazar's name were they even able to pay attention to the two boys at the same time so wel- Sebastian caught the thought before it finished, the answer wasn't exactly a mystery, and he didn't want to think about that right now. That was a sure-fire way to go soft real quick.

Fortunately, the light scratch of their nail along the sensitive flesh of his crown was doing an excellent job of catching his attention, though Sebastian wasn't entirely sure what to do with his hands now. At least for a split second, until Ominis let out a shaky moan when the Keeper tongued his slit, and Sebastian looked over at him.

Ah. Sebastian shivered at the sight of Ominis lying on the blanket, his blond hair splayed over the cloth like a halo, his nightshirt rumpled, with his midriff peeking out under the fabric, a fist clenched in the bedding and the other arm draped over his eyes, as though to hide his expression. Oh no you don't.

Placing a hand on the Keeper's, so they wouldn't accidentally pull on his dick painfully at the movement, Sebastian shuffled over to kneel beside Ominis, bracing a hand on the bed and pulling the blond's arm aside.

“Seb-” Ominis murmured, taking a trembling breath through his parted lips and Sebastian needed no further invitation.

Dipping his head, Sebastian captured those plush lips, feeling Ominis’ clever tongue curl around his own as the Keeper adjusted their grip on Sebastian and continued their ministrations, each stroke making his breath catch as pleasure danced along his spine.

Compelled by the need to touch, Sebastian slipped his hand under Ominis’ shirt, his heart pounding at the silky and soft skin against his calloused fingers. While the blond's elegant fingers threaded into his brown locks and tightened in his hair, dragging a deep groan from Sebastian's throat as the ache on his scalp slithered down his spine.

A small huff of amusement escaped Sebastian when he felt Ominis’ other hand slide up under his shirt as well, leaving a trail of fire along his abdomen, naturally, the sneaky twerp immediately went for his weak spot. Rubbing the warm pad of his thumb against Sebastian’s nipple and sending pulses of heat throbbing through his chest and down past his heart to tighten the coil of lust between his hips.

Slipping a groan between Ominis’ lips, Sebastian slid his palm down the blond's chest, retaliating by squeezing the soft flesh lightly on his way, before dipping his middle finger into the indentation of Ominis’ navel, delighted when Ominis’ fingers faltered in their assault. Circling the dip with his finger curiously, Sebastian scratched lightly at the sensitive epicentre where Ominis’ skin folded inwards into his body.

To his surprise, Ominis made a muffled moan against his mouth, clutching at Sebastian's arms, inhaling sharply, and tensing up, before sagging against the bed and parting his lips from Sebastian's to pant and gasp for air.

Ah, he's so beautiful. Sebastian felt himself throb with desire at the dishevelled state of his blind lover, he'd never tire of the sight of those half-lidded glassy eyes and that fair skin of his flushed red with ecstasy as he basked in the afterglow.

“Your turn.” The Keeper's voice drew his attention and Sebastian felt his throat go dry when he met their heated gaze, watching as they dragged their tongue along the softening flesh slipping from their lips, making Ominis’ breath catch from overstimulation.

Sebastian grinned when the Keeper straightened, before wrapping their freed hand in his shirt and pulling him towards them, while he tilted his head to the side willingly and parted his lips in invitation. Their lips met and Sebastian groaned into their mouth when the Keeper's tongue slipped into his, tasting Ominis’ seed as they danced with him while his hand cupped their jaw and the other wandered over their thigh.

The feverish heat of their skin, the firm muscles flexing under his palm and the sensation of their fingers slipping under his shirt to torment his reddened nipples again. He couldn’t begin to tell where his love began, and lust ended.

He distantly heard Ominis sitting up, and gasped when the Keeper's grip on his erection tightened. Opening his eyes slightly to see what had garnered that reaction, Sebastian felt his arousal spike at the sight of Ominis lapping at the Keeper’s nipple, while his fingers stroked the arousal between their spread knees, before closing his lips around the soft bud and suckling.

The Keeper released an absolutely delicious sound, as their head fell back, separating their lips, and Sebastian felt his hunger intensify. Unable to resist the opening, he leaned forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to their bared throat, sucking the flesh into his mouth and lightly gnawing on soft skin.

Under assault from both sides, the Keeper's movements along his length faltered, and Sebastian moved his hand from their thigh to cover their hand with his own. Holding their hand in place, he began thrusting with his hips into their grip instead, allowing them to freely enjoy the attention they were receiving from the two boys.

A groan of relief escaped his lips as Sebastian rutted eagerly into the soft heat around him, his ears throbbing with the wet sounds of Ominis’ suckling, the feeling of the Keeper's body trembling, desperate gasps squeezing past their throat, fluttering against his lips, their heartbeat against his tongue. The slick fluid oozing from his tip smeared along the Keeper's palm, creating a tantalising and sticky warmth for him to thrust into.

With how aroused Sebastian had been this whole time, he wasn't surprised when his climax began to peak aggressively. His breath caught as a muffled moan escaped around the bite of flesh that his teeth were clamped over as he came in their grip, spurting his spend against the Keeper's thigh. Pumping his hips a few more times to savour that sweet release, he finally released his mouthful to take a large gulp of air as he softened in their hand.

Almost on instinct, he lifted the Keeper’s hand to his lips and began to lap at the seed that had soiled it, cleaning their fingers with his tongue. He felt them shudder as he took their fingers into his mouth, before the Keeper pressed two of their fingers down on his tongue, pushing them past and deeper, wandering into his throat. Brain too fogged over to question it, Sebastian simply relaxed his jaw and tried not to gag, allowing them to do whatever they wished.

He had no idea how that looked or felt to the Keeper, but whatever it was, it was apparently good. Good enough for them to cum against Ominis’ hand with a moan and Sebastian sucked on their fingers as they withdrew from his mouth.

Releasing the Keeper's swollen nipple from his lips with a wet pop, Ominis gave a sigh, wrapping his arms around their waist and resting his cheek against their chest. “You'll be the death of me.”

“You're the one insisting on having a clear head.” The Keeper chuckled breathlessly, and Sebastian distantly noticed a series of bite marks on their chest as he dropped backwards to lie on his back with a contented sigh. Merlin, how'd he miss Ominis leaving those?

“Right, like you weren't equally as eager.” Ominis gave an exasperated huff. “I'm starting to think you just like having my... well, in your mouth.”

“And if I do?” The Keeper purred teasingly, trailing a damp finger along Ominis’ jaw.

“Then we can talk about that another time.” Ominis shook his head exasperatedly, otherwise they might end up in a round two instead of talking. Picking his wand up from where he'd dropped it on the bed, he gave it a swish to vanish any fluids away before they dirtied the bed. Salazar save him, his partners were so horny.

Rolling their eyes, the Keeper stretched lightly before easing themselves onto the bed to lie down beside Sebastian, on their front, curiously aware of the skin of their bum stretching as they did so. They were admittedly feeling a little tired, perhaps their exertion with Macnair this afternoon was catching up to them.

The Keeper hummed contentedly as Ominis followed them, lying on his side and pressing a kiss to their shoulder, tentatively rubbing at their tender bottom, his warm hand soothing against their skin as they asked. “So, what did we need to talk about?”

“Er.” Sebastian began, his brain still sluggishly trying to start up again while still swimming in the afterglow of orgasm. “Right.”

Propping themselves up on their elbows, the Keeper gazed at his dazed expression with affection. Cute.

Skin prickling under their attention and palpable bemusement, Sebastian mentally backtracked for a moment. “Ah, that's right. You said, ‘no more’.”

The Keeper frowned. “I what!? When?”

“When I suggested that we should stop.” Ominis answered instead, eyes narrowing in concern.

“Oh, come on, I meant ‘no, I want more’.” The Keeper groaned, planting their face into the blanket.

“Yeah, no, I did get that, it just took a moment.” Sebastian shook his head, rushing to clarify. “So, I kind of felt like it might be good to have- well, some sort of signal? I don't know, a quick and easy way to check each other's, okay...ness.”

“That's... actually quite brilliant.” Ominis smiled, admiration plain in his voice, and Sebastian felt his chest swell with pride.

“A signal... code words in essence, I suppose.” The Keeper’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “One for ‘stop’, and one for ‘continue’?”

Sebastian nodded while Ominis added. “And one more for ‘slow down’ would probably be good too. In case one of us needs a moment or has something to say.”

The Keeper nodded in agreement. “Yeah, that'd be good. So, we have three signals that we need words for.”

“It should probably be something easy to remember, but unlikely for us to randomly need to use...” Ominis murmured distantly.

A few moments of silence passed, before Sebastian suggested. “How about colours?”

“That could work. We're not likely to speak of colours, I should think.” Ominis smiled wryly. “Unless either of you are describing this one's arse.”

The Keeper squeaked in surprise when he pinched the skin of their bum, their face going red when Sebastian burst into laughter, barely getting the words out between his gasps for air. “Great, red for ‘stop’ then.”

“Ugh, then I vote green for ‘continue’, since all we'd need is a wiggenweld to get rid of any red.” The Keeper grumbled, grabbing Ominis by the nape and wiping the smirk from his lips with their own.

“Guess that just leaves ‘slow down’.” Sebastian grinned as the Keeper conquered the blond's mouth, drawing sounds from Ominis that made Sebastian's softened length perk up again in interest.

Ominis’ breath was heated as the Keeper withdrew their assault ever so slightly to speak, while he gasped for oxygen. “What does red and green make when mixed?”

“Yellow?” Sebastian frowned.

“It's brown.” Ominis huffed against the Keeper's lips, swallowing thickly before continuing in a dry tone. “Why is my colour theory the best here? I'm blind.”

“I think I prefer yellow.” The Keeper purred, bumping noses affectionately with Ominis. “Yellow... like a fading bruise. You'll leave some on my skin, won't you love?”

Shivering at their words, Ominis’ brain flooded with heat at the thought of leaving bruises on the Keeper, the idea of them desiring it, desiring him, getting off on placing themselves at his mercy, on trusting their body to him, utterly. “You unbelievable minx...”

Sebastian lay on his side, his head propped up on a hand, leisurely watching as Ominis grabbed the Keeper by the wrists, pinning them on the bed and leaning down to nip at their jaw as he loomed over them, his hair completely dishevelled and not seeming to care much on this occasion.

Scoffing at the Keeper’s gloating giggles, Sebastian shook his head. “And you guys say I'm the horny one.”

Chapter Text

“Hm.” The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, and Macnair whimpered at the sound. They'd gotten pretty good at detecting and tracking pain over the last two weeks, perhaps they could finally give it a try. “Sebastian.”

“Yeah?” He asked, perking up at the prospect that he'd get to do something a little more interesting.

“Get one of the jars from my pack, I'm going to try an extraction.” The Keeper replied as they opened their eyes, amused when Macnair’s face contorted in renewed fear and uncertainty.

“Sure.” Sebastian grinned in anticipation, taking a few steps to the side, before returning with a jar in his left hand. “Shall I add another needle too?”

The Keeper nodded, flashing a sharp smirk. “Make it hurt a lot.”

“Easy.” Sebastian's grin widened, rolling his last needle in the fingers of his right hand, before deftly stabbing it into Macnair’s knee, sliding it through the gap between his femur and tibia.

The moment that the needle pierced the sensitive nerves and tendons under his bone, a shriek of pain was ripped from Macnair’s throat. His calf muscles spasmed and he kicked uncontrollably, the chains around his ankle rattling loudly as he thrashed.

With a self-assured smile, Sebastian waved a hand at his handiwork. “There you go.”

The Keeper chuckled, his creativity never failed to impress. Guiding their wand's tip to hover over the convulsing joint, they closed their eyes and focused.

Taking the ancient magic that they had been funnelling outwards to detect and scan the field that they'd come to call Macnair’s aura, the Keeper redirected their magic, digging it into that body of energy instead. Burrowing those threads into his aura, they sought out the familiar flavour of pain and latched onto it, melding, and entwining the threads of ancient magic with the throbbing pulses of agony.

Once they were certain that their magic was firmly attached to his pain, the Keeper began to draw their magic back towards their wand, watching with fascination as the red-hot energy followed. The pain energy that had been bleeding out from the epicentre, dispersing into Macnair’s aura like a drop of red in water, was drawn backwards, more akin to a web-like network of crimson ink being gathered towards their wand.

Here came the hard part. The Keeper took a deep breath, digging their ancient magic into the pain with the persistence of barbed wire, before lifting their wand away from his knee. Tugging lightly on the sliver of pain, they tried to pull it out as gently as possible, holding their breath and tightening their grip on their wand, not allowing it to even tremble.

Beside them, Sebastian's eyes widened as a familiar strand of glowing red energy emerged from Macnair’s skin. Stretching and pulsing in a stream of angry smoke.

When suddenly the thread snapped.

“Blast.” The Keeper cursed, startling their boyfriend with the sudden expletive.

“What's wrong?” Sebastian frowned.

“It tore!” The Keeper growled, running a hand through their hair. “Fuck, I was so careful and yet it still tore!?”

The Keeper ground their teeth in frustration. No wonder Isidora hadn't noticed, the tear in Macnair’s energy had barely been noticeable. In fact, if they hadn't been carefully monitoring his aura's pressure in expectation of a potential injury, they'd never have noticed either, thanks to the constant fluctuations.

It felt akin to the flapping of a towel or flag with a hole in it. It still flapped and flowed, with only the barest indication of the tear as it bent sharply about the hole in the wind. Would his aura recover? Such a small tear would, surely. Isidora had partially extracted a small amount from Professor Niamh in the memory that the Keeper had watched, and she didn't seem to suffer leaks afterwards.

“Hey, it looks different.” Sebastian's voice drew their attention back to the physical realm.

“What does?” The Keeper asked, looking up at him.

“The pain.” Sebastian pointed at their wand and the Keeper followed his gaze.

Unlike the smoky cloud of swirling bubbly pain energy that they'd been consuming up to this point, after being separated from Macnair’s aura, this smoky stream no longer looked like a stream or smoke. Instead, it had taken on an almost heavy and bulbous texture, goopy and bouncy, dangling like a drop of honey unconstrained by gravity, hanging precariously from the tip of their wand.

“Huh.” The Keeper murmured curiously, running a finger along the bottom of the soft swollen bulb, feeling a strange sting across their skin as they did so. “That's weird, I wonder why it's different.”

Withdrawing the digit, they waved a hand at Sebastian, and he quickly opened the jar, holding it out for the Keeper to guide the bulb of pain into.

“What'll you do with it?” Sebastian asked as he closed the lid and raised the jar to examine it, the small ball of red energy sinking to the bottom of the jar like a heavy viscous liquid, rather than floating around the inside. Quite unlike the pain energy that the two of them were accustomed to, with little goopy bubbles disconnecting and floating about before rejoining the whole in an endless cycle.

“Test it.” The Keeper flashed a feral grin and Sebastian snorted at their hungry gaze.

“Obviously.” He sighed, shaking his head with a wry smile at the expected response, before pausing and eyeing them with a serious frown. “With us around. Just in case...”

Sebastian trailed off, letting his concern hang in the air between them and the Keeper met his gaze, giving him a firm nod. “Of course, though I doubt anything will happen.”

Returning their attention to Macnair, the Keeper ran their wand over his knee again. “We can stop here for now. Give his aura some time to recover. Or not. We'll see if it does.”

Macnair flinched at the taunting grin on their face, closing his eyes and turning away. Clicking their tongue in irritation, the Keeper flicked him on his damp forehead, startling him into opening his eyes and facing them again.

“Legilimens.” The Keeper swished their wand, meeting the boy's fear filled eyes and forcing their way into his mind.

It was... messy. Very messy. Kinda gross and uncomfortable too. It felt like there was an atmosphere of anxiety just hanging over everything. Even now, despite all the pain he was in, Macnair somehow still had the capacity to worry about how embarrassing he must look, strung up in such an unseemly manner.

Someone sure was image conscious, the Keeper mentally rolled their eyes, what an insecure twat. Shifting their focus, they investigated the state of his knee, finding that the quantity of pain he was feeling had indeed decreased by a small amount, before the inside of his mind became abruptly and conspicuously empty.

The Keeper was confused for a few seconds, before realisation hit them, and they withdrew from his mind with a sharp grin. “I see someone knows Occlumency.”

Macnair flinched, while Sebastian gave him an appalled stare, sounding well and truly offended as he exclaimed incredulously. “Seriously!? This dimwit can shield that tiny peanut of a brain!?”

Somehow the idiot still had the balls to glare at Sebastian for that, tickling a derisive snort from the Keeper, before drawing Macnair’s attention back to them with an imperious stare and a thinly veiled threat in their voice. “And what, might be so critical to hide, that you could focus through all the... distractions?”

The Keeper kicked lightly at the chained boy's knee, wrenching a whimper from his tightly clamped lips as the movement pulled at the tendons under his knee, his bones grinding against the needle clamped between them.

“Hmph.” The Keeper huffed in irritation. If he was still able to shield his mind despite the pain he was already in, they'd probably need something more to break his focus. “We'll call it a day here then, let's go find Ominis. Maybe he'll know of an effective way to take down Occlumency shields.”

“Alright.” Sebastian shrugged, handing the jar of pain energy to the Keeper, and setting himself to the task of plucking the needles from Macnair’s body one by one.

The Keeper idly examined the energy inside the jar, heaving a sigh as they turned the glass in their fingers, slightly disappointed about calling it a day so early. They did actually hope that the dolt would recover, they didn't want to lose their lab rat so quickly, not like they'd be able to get a replacement for quite some time after all.

“Got ‘em.” Dropping the needles into their box, Sebastian inclined his head towards the cell door. “Shall we?”

“Sure.” The Keeper nodded, walking around him to grab the pack, depositing the jar into it and holding it open for Sebastian to add the box, before slinging it over their shoulder and leaving the cell with Sebastian in tow.

Closing the door behind him, Sebastian flicked his wand at the cuffs around Macnair’s limbs, dropping the boy onto the floor and following after the Keeper without a second glance.

“Hm, do we have anything else to do today?” Sebastian asked thoughtfully as they climbed the stairs.

“Not particularly. The ceiling brick layer, of the castle ground floor, is still curing after we levitated it to stack on top of the walls.” The Keeper shrugged. “I suppose we could go hunting later, or just spend a day relaxing. How’s your homework coming along?”

“Why don't we drop by the beach? We've been catching river fish for a while, wouldn't want to overuse that resource.” Sebastian suggested and the Keeper chuckled when he plainly ignored their question.

“Sure, I've never actually had the opportunity to try cuisine from the ocean.” The Keeper shrugged easily.

“Really?” Sebastian's eyes widened with surprise, before flashing a broad grin. “Then we definitely should go. I think Ominis would probably enjoy a relaxing afternoon at the beach, he's been working hard on those vivariums.”

“A fine idea. Perhaps I'll ask how his correspondence with Poppy has been going.” The Keeper shook their head. “I didn't press earlier in the week since he quickly lost his worried furrow, so it's probably going well, but I'd still rather hear it from him.”

“Worried furrow?” Sebastian frowned in confusion. “Isn't that how he always looks?”

“Are you seriously telling me you hadn't noticed?” The Keeper stopped in their tracks and stared at Sebastian incredulously. “Are you always just too busy admiring his pretty face to notice his expression?”

“Well, he always has that expression around me, I thought it was just a default.” Sebastian flushed with some embarrassment.

A few moments of silence passed, before the Keeper started laughing in disbelief. “Love, Ominis might be physically blind, but even with a working pair of eyeballs, I think you're actually more blind.”

“Hey!”

“Ominis?” The Keeper called out, poking their head through the first vivarium's wooden door, glancing about the spacious room for their lover.

Huh, it actually looked quite nice. It seemed that the grass they'd uprooted from the courtyard had ended up being useful here, and both the walls, as well as ceiling, had been enchanted with the appearance of the evening sky, giving one the illusion that they were outdoors. It wasn't quite as unimaginably scenic as the Room of Requirement's vivariums, despite being roughly about the same size, but it was still beautiful in its simplicity.

Especially because... the Keeper's eyes softened at the sight of Ominis standing a distance away, waving his wand over the dirt and transferring a small seedling from a pot to the soil, before burying it. It really was nice seeing their lovers also putting in effort to build this home together, it really hammered in the reality that they were now living in. That the Keeper was no longer yet another lone orphan struggling to survive, that they were a part of something strong and beautiful, that their future had never been brighter.

Hope was something they never bothered to bear nor cultivate, but there it was, soft and warm within their breast. The Keeper huffed lightly to themselves, how unlike them, to entertain such sappy thoughts.

Shaking off their moment of sentiment, the Keeper leaned back out of the doorway to call out. “Sebastian, in here!”

Pushing the door open the rest of the way, the Keeper entered the vivarium and strode over to their blond lover’s side. “Ominis, how's the vivarium coming along?”

Lifting his head with an absent expression, Ominis smiled. “Fairly well, I should say. Though, it is perhaps, a little cumbersome trying to keep track of the number of shrubs and seedlings placed in each vivarium, since we don't have that many to go around just yet.”

“Will you be finished here soon?” The Keeper asked, deciding to wait until his work was completed, seeing as he was holding numbers in his head. They wouldn't want to disrupt his focus too much with what could possibly be a triggering question, since it concerned their test subjects. “I was hoping to enlist your assistance with something.”

“Hm.” Ominis hummed thoughtfully for a moment before shaking his head. “Not quite, sorry. If it's all the same to you, I'd like to finish up here before I move to something else, it should only take an hour or less.”

“Certainly.” The Keeper nodded before hesitantly asking. “Would you like some help?”

His eyes softened but Ominis shook his head again. “Thank you for the offer, but it's easier to keep track of my seedling count alone.”

Well, understandable, the Keeper nodded. “Fair enough, alright then, Seb and I can kill some time while yo-”

“Omiiii!”

“Gah!” Ominis yelped as Sebastian practically flew through the doors to latch onto his back, nearly bowling the blond over with his enthusiasm. “Merlin, Sebastian, are you trying to kill me!?”

“If you don't want me to react this way to seeing you, you should look less huggable.” Sebastian beamed, rubbing his cheek against Ominis’ contentedly.

“And exactly how do I do that? Please, tell me so that I may do so.” Ominis grumbled with a tired expression, his words coming out with a mild lisp thanks to his cheek being pressed against.

“Now why would I tell you? Besides, I don't think it's physically possible, so you might as well accept your fate.” Sebastian grinned, his voice lowering and eyes darkening. “You're never getting rid of me.”

The Keeper snorted in amusement when Ominis flushed, it was so cute that he clearly liked this side of Sebastian too, even if he'd never admit it.

“Oh, that's right.” Sebastian smiled, peeling his cheek from Ominis’ to peer at the Keeper. “We had something to ask you.”

“You do?” Ominis blinked curiously.

“It's quite alright, we can wait till you're finished here.” The Keeper shook their head, not wanting to disrupt Ominis’ plans.

“Come now, love, if it's just an answer you need, I can spare a moment.” Ominis smiled wryly.

“Are you-” The Keeper began, only for him to interrupt them with a wave of his hand.

“Yes, I am. Now please, ask away.” Ominis rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his lips said that he appreciated their attempts to be considerate, nonetheless.

“Would you happen to know of an effective means of disrupting an Occlumency shield?” The Keeper asked carefully.

Ominis frowned. “You're not...”

He seemed hesitant to continue, and the Keeper tipped their head to the side in confusion. A few seconds passed before Sebastian visibly blanched, shaking Ominis lightly. “Not for each other, Omi. Macnair’s got Occlumency shielding.”

“Oh, I see.” Ominis sighed in abject relief.

“Did you really think we'd try to force our way into each other's minds?” The Keeper shook their head.

“Well, not really...” Ominis cleared his throat uncomfortably, patting Sebastian on the head apologetically. “What type of shield does he have?”

“His mind went blank and empty.” The Keeper replied, while Sebastian happily enjoyed his head pats.

“Ah, that type... it's a more common method of shielding, pain usually works well on those forms of shields, that's why my family uses pain itself as a shield instead. As far as I know, there's only one surefire means of breaking that form of Occlumency shield...” Ominis trailed off, his lips pressed tight.

The Keeper raised an eyebrow at his continued hesitation. “Is it difficult?”

“Ye- well, maybe not for either of you...” Ominis grimaced, a long moment passed, and his hand stilled on Sebastian's head.

“Oh, for the love of- just spit it out, darling.” The Keeper gave an exasperated sigh.

“...the Cruciatus curse.” Ominis turned his face away, lowering his hand and fiddling with the ties on the wrists of his blouse instead.

Ah, the Keeper winced, well, that explained his reluctance. Though they were slightly put off that he'd even considered it a possibility.

“Oh, yeah that won't be hard for- ack!” Sebastian flinched when the Keeper bopped him on the head to shut him up.

“Thank you, Ominis. Don't worry, we wouldn't cast that curse on each other again.” The Keeper murmured, cupping Ominis’ jaw gently, before trailing their fingers down his throat. “There’s more... enjoyable ways for us to play with pain.”

Ominis swallowed at their suggestive tone, and the Keeper was pleased to see his cheeks redden again. His voice was slightly raspy and his eyes narrow, as he chastised them. “Don't think I don't see what you're doing.”

“Do you?” The Keeper purred. “I suppose it's obvious that I'm ensuring that you've lost track of your seedling count.”

“My-” Ominis blinked, and they chuckled at his alarmed expression when he recalled the task he'd been embroiled in. “Wait- Blast, was I at twenty-three? Or twenty-four...”

“Good luck with the seedlings, love. We'll come find you in an hour. Come on, Sebastian.” The Keeper placed a kiss on his cheek, before plucking Sebastian by the collar of his tunic and dragging him off the blond, towards the door.

“Already? But we just got here...” Sebastian whined.

After a few steps however, the Keeper paused beside a medium sized empty pot. “Hey, Ominis, can I borrow this pot?”

“S- sure!” Ominis replied distractedly, looking a touch flustered as he adjusted his hair and clothing.

“I'll be sure to return it.” The Keeper smirked, grabbing the pot in their free hand, and continuing to drag Sebastian to the door. “See you later!”

“So, what's up with the pot?” Sebastian asked with an amused grin, straightening his collar as he followed the Keeper down the stairs to the Dungeon cells.

“Just a funny idea I wanted to test out since we have some time to kill.” The Keeper chuckled, their left arm loosely wrapped around the pot. “Even though it's better to stick with something consistent, I've been getting bored of playing with needles over the last two weeks. Since we're just paying him a second visit to peek into his brain, rather than experimenting, I figured why not.”

“Aw, not going to let me show off my needlework anymore? And I'd been putting in so much effort.” Sebastian sighed, shaking his head with feigned disappointment.

“Don't be silly, love. I think your needlework is very impressive.” The Keeper reached out with their free hand to caress his arm reassuringly. “Though, I’m fairly certain that you’ve also been getting bor-”

Their words were cut off by a ripple in the wards and the Keeper's eyes widened and, along with a curse from Sebastian, the two broke off into a sprint. Their heavy footfalls resounded through the stairwell as they made haste down the steps, leaving the stairway on the Dungeon floor in a few moments. Trespassers here!? How-

The hairs on the back of the Keeper's neck stood on end and they reflexively raised their left arm, loosening their hold on the pot, just in time for Macnair to appear from around the corner, his arm raised with something shiny clutched in his fist. Their teeth clenched tightly as a sharp heat bore into their forearm.

Ignoring the sting, the Keeper caught the falling pot by the rim with their right hand, swinging it up and smashing it into the side of their attacker's head.

“Gah!” Macnair shouted, shoving the Keeper away and losing his grip on the needle, with which he'd stabbed their forearm, as they fell to the floor.

As this was happening, Sebastian, who had made a grab for Macnair, had been abruptly punched into the opposite wall by Selwyn, who'd appeared from behind Macnair, winding him and preventing Sebastian from going to the Keeper's aid. Hearing Macnair’s shout, Selwyn caught his friend by the arm to keep Macnair from losing his balance, before kicking at the fallen Keeper as well.

Rolling out of range to dodge the swing, the Keeper held the remaining rim of the shattered pot in their non-dominant hand and drew their wand with the other. Pointing it at the ring of pottery, the Keeper flicked their wand with a sharp grin. “Reparo.”

Immediately, the shattered fragments of ceramic that lay on the floor behind Macnair and Selwyn flew into the air, shooting towards the piece of pottery in the Keeper's hand, all sharp edges, and jagged corners. Screams of pain rang out through the corridor as the ceramic shards embedded themselves in the backs of Macnair and Selwyn, surging forward in an attempt to gravitate towards the Keeper's piece.

The two boys fell forwards and the shards promptly ripped themselves from the escapees’ flesh, hurtling towards the Keeper's shard to reform themselves into a pot.

A very bloody pot.

Breathing heavily, the Keeper tossed the pot to the floor carelessly, gritting their teeth as they gripped the needle sticking out of their forearm firmly and pulled it free with a grunt. “Fucking bastards.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Sebastian approached the Keeper while rubbing the back of his head where it’d slammed into the brick wall. “You alright?”

“Yeah. At least my idea worked.” The Keeper huffed, turning the bloody needle in their fingers for a moment before dropping it into the pot on the floor.

“That was the idea? Reparo as torture?” Sebastian flashed a wry smile. “Creative.”

“Thanks. Would have preferred to test it in better conditions however.” The Keeper gave a strained chuckle as they pulled a wiggenweld from their satchel, giving Sebastian a look over for injuries. “And you?”

“Please, weak swing like that, wouldn't have done anything if it hadn't caught me by surprise.” He scoffed, sounding slightly miffed that he'd been downed so quickly.

“Of course.” The Keeper smirked in amusement and Sebastian rolled his eyes at them, drawing his wand and levelling it at the two boys threateningly within their view.

“The two of you better stay down if you know what's good for you.” He huffed imperiously, smirking as Macnair’s eyes welled up with tears.

“Tynx.” The Keeper called out, lifting the bottle of wiggenweld to their lips.

A moment later there was a quiet pop, and Tynx appeared beside the two. Taking in the scene, the two guests on the floor groaning in pain, the copious amounts of blood splattered about and staining the Keeper’s torn sleeve, the elf called out anxiously. “Master! Are you alright?”

“Calm yourself Tynx, the excitement is already over.” The Keeper sighed as they lowered the half-filled bottle, passing the remainder to Sebastian to finish.

“Go get Ominis and tell him that our guests need some specialised healing, and then return to clean this mess up.” The Keeper instructed and the elf quickly nodded, popping away without another word.

Returning their attention to the two bullies, the Keeper hummed thoughtfully. “Now, how did the two of you escape?”

There was a long moment of expected silence and the Keeper huffed while Sebastian stepped on Selwyn's hand with a crunch. “Hey, either one of you going to speak up?”

A muffled whimper wheezed through Selwyn's gritted teeth and the Keeper gave a sigh, flicking their wand at Macnair’s left leg. “Incarcerous.”

Thick ropes coiled themselves tightly around that calf, before the Keeper flicked their wand at Selwyn's leg as well, binding his left calf similarly.

“Well, if neither of you will say how you escaped, even though I'm sure I'll find out easily, let's just make sure this situation won't happen a second time.” The Keeper smiled pleasantly as they lightly slashed their wand. “Diffindo.”

A blood curdling shriek of pain rang through the corridor as the spell flew through the air in a sharp arc and the tendons at the back of Macnair’s left ankle were severed cleanly. The only reason that it wasn't accompanied by an egregious spray of blood were the ropes wrapped tightly around that left calve, restricting the boy's blood flow.

The horror on Selwyn's face was amusing, especially when Sebastian quipped brightly. “Oh, good idea, that way they can't run, even if they escape again. I'll get the other one.”

“Be my guest.” The Keeper waved a hand as Selwyn began to shake his head in a panic.

“Waitwaitwaitwai-”

“Diffindo.” Sebastian slashed his wand, splitting the sensitive meat and muscle, robbing Selwyn of the ability to walk normally on that foot ever again. He flashed a grin as the boy screamed, rolling his wand in his fingers with a dry chuckle. “Guess you dimwits will finally be forced to put your best foot forward from now on.”

The Keeper shook their head, how on Earth did Sebastian always come up with these bad jokes?

“Alright Dan Leno, let's drag them back before Ominis gets here. Wingardium leviosa.” The Keeper flicked their wand at Macnair and began walking back towards the cell, uncaring of the blood trail he was leaving behind as they levitated his pain paralysed body through the air.

“Dan who?” Sebastian asked curiously as he followed their lead with Selwyn.

“Muggle comedian, do you not know him?” The Keeper asked in return.

“Not really, we're pretty disconnected from muggle media.” Sebastian shrugged, idly letting Selwyn's head bash against the wall as they looped around it.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me.” The Keeper's voice from ahead was extremely flat.

“What-” Sebastian began as he poked his head from around the bend, before stopping at the sight of the two bullies’ cell doors...

Swung open from the wrong side. The hinge side. Along with two pins lying on the floor in each cell.

A laugh forced its way out of Sebastian's throat while the Keeper rubbed their fingers against their forehead. To think that the blood ward lock had worked perfectly and remained locked, even after Macnair and Selwyn removed the hinge pins that held the cell doors to the frames. No wonder the cell breach alarm hadn't gone off.

“How did they even-” The Keeper caught themselves. “Right. Needle.”

“Well, gotta give you credit Macnair, can't believe you even knew that removing the pin would do that.” Sebastian snickered. “No points for timing though.”

“They probably didn't expect us to come back.” The Keeper sighed, shooting a glare at Macnair, who only groaned when they flung him back into the cell. “Guess that's what you were hiding.”

“Not like they'd have made it very far even if they'd picked a better time.” Sebastian shrugged and dumped Selwyn back in his own cell as well. Before picking up the long metal rods that had a bulb at the top, that prevented the rods from falling through, and sliding them back into the hollow metal hinges, which the Keeper followed in the other cell.

Until the, expected, sound of frantic footfalls reached their ears.

“Are the two of you alright!?” Ominis’ voice preceded his appearance around the corner.

“Of course, nothing to worry about.” The Keeper reassured as he rushed over.

“Tynx said our guests escaped and that you were injured.” Ominis anxiously cast the diagnosis charm on the Keeper.

“That elf...” The Keeper grumbled as the spell washed over them. “It wasn't anything serious, I already took some wiggenweld.”

“...I'll overlook your signs of overwork for now, I'm just glad you're alright.” Ominis sighed, shaking his head while the Keeper smiled sheepishly, before he turned to Sebastian, casting the charm on him as well. “And you Sebastian?”

“Perfectly fine, of course.” Sebastian flashed a cocky grin.

“You wouldn't happen to be able to heal these two's injuries without healing the cut tendons on their ankles, would you?” The Keeper asked, drawing Ominis’ attention back to them.

Ominis flinched in sympathy and frowned. “You cut their ankles?”

“Didn't want them to lose their capability to go use the loo just because I don't want them running if they ever manage to break out again, I prefer keeping the Dungeons clean.” The Keeper shrugged. “Probably should change the cell doors too.”

“Hm, perhaps we could use something track based rather than a swinging door.” Sebastian murmured to himself thoughtfully.

“Isolated healing? I should be able to do that.” Ominis nodded stiffly and the Keeper took his free hand in their own.

“Love, if not for you, they wouldn't even be getting healing. You're doing something good here, it even takes more effort than just dropping a wiggenweld on them.” The Keeper insisted, placing a kiss against his knuckles. “If I wasn't confident in your skills, I would have severed the entire leg. Cell cleanliness be damned.”

Ominis huffed lightly, shaking his head with a small smile. “Alright, I get it.”

“When you're done, let's spend the rest of the day at the beach. I think we've earned some relaxation.” The Keeper grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek.

“That...” Ominis sighed and nodded. “That sounds lovely. I'll just... get this over with.”

He took a breath and made his way into Macnair’s cell, trying his best to ignore the stench of blood hanging in the air. Just need to get it over with and then we can leave.

“Woah, here's a rare find, sea cucumber!” Sebastian straightened from where he'd been scavenging in the shallow beach waters, holding up a long, grey, and very slimy looking... thing.

The Keeper stared at the disgusting looking creature for a moment, before frowning at Sebastian. “I don't see how you could possibly mistake that for a cucumber.”

“Huh?” Sebastian blinked in confusion for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “No no, not ‘see’, it's ‘sea’, as in, the ocean.”

“Oh.” It was now the Keeper's turn to blink. “Well, I suppose I can sort of see why it might be called a cucumber, what with the weird lines on its body.”

“Right?” Sebastian grinned. “They're actually pretty good.”

“To eat!?” The Keeper's eyes were wide with alarm.

“Yeah! After cooking of course.” Sebastian chuckled at the disgust on their face, holding the slimy sea cucumber up by one end, so that its opening was pointing downwards. “See, all we need to do is scare it a little...”

The Keeper's eyes widened further in horror when, after getting flicked a few times by Sebastian, white... stuff began to pour out of the sea cucumber's... mouth? Butt? The opening at the end.

Sebastian continued. “So, those are the little guy's organs, which it pukes up to distract-”

“Its what!?” The Keeper's jaw went slack when the white strings were followed by brown lumpy sludge.

“Yeah, bit weird, but the idea is that the predators would start eating the organs and then the sea cucumber would swim away and grow them back late-” Sebastian was explaining, when suddenly a long tentacle slid out as well, thrashing about violently. “Oh, oh! A pearlfish!”

Sebastian quickly caught the tentacl- fish by its tail and pulled it free, dropping it into the bucket that the Keeper was holding, revealing it to indeed, be a long smooth silver fish that looked almost like a tadpole.

“The girls will probably enjoy eating that, pearlfish don't have scales since they live inside sea cucumbers.” Sebastian grinned, continuing to hold the sea cucumber up as it finished ejecting its innards and water into the ocean, elongating as it did so. “Isn't that nice? The critter does our work for us, gutting itself, now all we need to do is cut it open, give it a rinse and cook it.”

“It's admittedly a bit of an acquired taste. Or perhaps acquired ‘texture’ would be more accurate.” Ominis called down to them from the short cliff overlooking the point where the water's depth dropped off sharply, giggling lightly as he did so.

“Ominis, my love, you're only say that because you can't see what I'm seeing.” The Keeper shook their head. “I'm not sure I want to know why either of you know what it tastes like.”

“It's pretty popular in Asian countries apparently, read about it in a book once and asked one of our classmates from China about it in fourth year. She made some for us to try and then taught me how to make it when I asked. It's easy to cook and actually tastes quite nice, if you don’t mind the chewiness.” Sebastian shrugged casually.

"If you say so." The Keeper shook their head with a wry smile, holding out their bucket for him to drop the creature in, before returning to their own hunt. Wading through the cool waist high water, they easily scanned the seabed for critters through the crystalline aqua, the fine grains of white sand soft between their toes.

“Well, can't be worse than some of the things I've put in my mouth to survive.” The Keeper mumbled to themselves with a sigh.

“Oh, look! A geoduck!” Sebastian exclaimed, holding up a long, slimy, phallic shaped shellfish.

“Yup...” The Keeper chuckled. “Things like that.”

“Like what?” Sebastian asked in confusion.

“Nothing.” The Keeper grinned wryly, holding out the bucket for him to deposit his catch, when a large fish flew past their head and landed in the bucket beside Ominis. “Nice catch, Ominis!”

“Why, thank you, my dear.” He wore an easy smile, propping his chin up on an elbow as he lay on his front, comfortably resting on a picnic cloth laid out on the smooth flat rock.

“That reminds me.” The Keeper stooped down and swiftly snatched a palm sized crab from the clear ocean water by its shell as it tried to flee, dropping it into the bucket, before humming thoughtfully and calling out. “Ominis, how do you catch fish anyway? I thought Accio didn't work on living things?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a good question.” Sebastian blinked, pausing his hunt to peer up at Ominis curiously.

“Hm? That's simple, my wand allows me to clearly identify fish, regardless of refraction or obstruction, and then I target the fishes’ scales, the way one might use clothes to move a person.” Ominis waved a hand dismissively.

“Wouldn't the scale you're targeting just, rip right off?” Sebastian blinked.

“Does a single thread pull out of cloth when it's Accioed? Or a single page of a book?” Ominis asked with a chuckle. “If you intend to summon enough of the scales, you'll move the entire fish.”

“Fair enough, aren't scales a part of the fish though?” The Keeper grinned wryly. “Don't they count as part of a living creature?”

“About as much as cotton is a part of a plant, or wool a part of a sheep.” Ominis shrugged.

“Huh, if that's the case...” Sebastian looked at the Keeper speculatively and they narrowed their eyes at him.

“No. You may not attempt to summon hair from my head.” The Keeper stated preemptively.

“Ugh, oh ye of little faith.” Sebastian grumbled, before huffing in mock offence and placing a hand on his hip. “Alright, then in exchange, answer this. What did the fish say when it bumped into a brick wall?”

The Keeper huffed, shaking their head but conceding. “Ouch?”

“Nope.” He shook his head with an anticipatory grin.

“What then? Give us the answer.” They sighed, knowing that he'd be glad to just drop the punchline.

“Dam.” Sebastian declared proudly, getting a bark of laughter from the Keeper while Ominis let out a groan that was audible even from a distance.

“Alright, not bad.” The Keeper shook their head again with a helpless smile, before examining the contents of their partially filled bucket and decided that they'd caught enough for the time being. “You know what? Let's take a quick break.”

“Now? Sure.” Sebastian grinned, taking a moment to stretch, his thighs were starting to feel a little sore after all the squats he'd been doing whilst hunting shellfish, so he followed them up to the cliff without complaint.

The Keeper sighed, setting the bucket down beside Ominis’ and lowering themselves to sit on the picnic mat with him. Settling under the parasol that Ominis had set up to shelter the mat, they took a deep breath of the cool refreshing sea breeze, relieved to be out of the summer sun.

Pressing a kiss to Ominis’ bare shoulder, the Keeper reclined on their back beside him, propping themselves up slightly on their elbows. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mhm.” Ominis hummed lightly, before releasing a puff of air as Sebastian, predictably, decided to drape himself over Ominis’ back. “Oof- Seb- you're... heavy!”

“Ugh, it's your fault for wearing so little and looking so inviting.” Sebastian released a muffled sigh of satisfaction against the speckles of beauty marks lining Ominis’ shoulder.

“Well, you do look inviting.” The Keeper agreed with a smirk, pausing to rake their eyes down along Sebastian's bare back as well. “Though, so do you, Seb.”

“Do I?” Sebastian raised his head with a roguish grin.

“Please don't take his invitation. I don't think I can survive both of your weights combined.” Ominis grumbled from where his forehead was squashed against his arm.

“Oh, don't worry, I'm quite content simply enjoying the view.” The Keeper chuckled.

“What a relief, at least one of us is.” Ominis huffed dryly.

“Want me to get off?” Sebastian asked, nuzzling against Ominis’ shoulder blade. “I will, if you really don't like it.”

A moment passed, before Ominis sighed. “I suppose I am, admittedly, enjoying myself as well.”

Sebastian beamed in response, settling more comfortably on Ominis’ back and pressing his nose into the crook of the blond’s neck, not unlike a puppy, and the Keeper chuckled at the mental image of a resigned cat being nigh crushed by an overly affectionate pup.

“Have you been enjoying your correspondence with Poppy too?” The Keeper asked, taking the opportunity to ask the question that had been on their mind for the past week.

Ominis hummed, taking a few moments to ponder the question and how much he was willing to share. It wasn't that he wanted to keep secrets or anything, but it just. Somehow, it felt like something special. Here was a friend he'd made on his own power. It'd always felt like Sebastian had seen something in him, magically, all those years ago, that propelled the bumbling boy to force himself into Ominis’ life with all the elegance of a niffler before a jewellery store.

Not that he minded, he'd been wary and afraid at the start, but when he'd realised how genuine Sebastian was, how honest and open the boy was, it'd felt like being faced with a bright and warm flame. One that a moth like himself, grey and ugly, couldn't help but brush up against, couldn't help but draw close to, even when he'd known it would only, could only end in hurt. It was worth it.

But with Poppy. He'd owled her first, asked to speak, asked for aid, and unlike his family, unlike Professor Black, she'd replied with kindness, without judgement, and actually tried to help. Rather than telling him that he should figure it out on his own. Somehow.

Oh, absolutely! I'd love to give you guidance for the crafting of magical beast vivariums, it's no bother at all! Do you have any idea what beasts you'll be keeping?

She'd been so forthcoming and understanding when he'd been unable to describe things the way others might. People with... sight.

That's fascinating, I never realised that grass had tiny thorns on the edges of their leaves! That explains why Thestrals prefer sand or dirt, the grass must itch their bare featherless hides terribly. Oh, that reminds me, you'll want to keep any Thestrals and Unicorns separate, I know my friend has both. The two species don't get along you see, possibly because of their natures. Unicorns are close to eternity while Thestrals are close to death. It makes them fight over territory awfully fierce. Oh, sorry, please let me know if I'm babbling overly much about beasts!

Her passion for magical creatures was similar to the way Sebastian was with magical knowledge, which made it surprisingly easy to write with her and they'd exchanged more correspondence than he'd expected to, eventually drifting away from only speaking about beasts.

Why, that's very kind of you to say, thank you! You know, I was surprised that the three of you are already planning your home together, but then I realised I was more surprised that you were telling me, rather than the fact that your relationship has progressed far enough to be considering such permanence, isn't that interesting? Either way, I'm so very happy for the three of you!

It was reassuring that she was so supportive of their relationship, considering her previous feelings for the Keeper, and he couldn’t help but speak honestly in query, hoping that her pleasant openness would endure.

Oh, don't worry, I’ve done some thinking, and I think I was a little more attracted to who they were in my life, than who they were themselves. They'd helped me when my own recklessness put my gran in danger, and I fell in love with the idea of a fairytale romance I suppose. Running away from my parents on my own... I don't know what I'd have done if I hadn't had my gran to go to, and they’d ensured that I didn’t lose that.

He'd been so surprised when she'd told him about her past, her difficult childhood. Especially by how similar their circumstances had been. Being forced to perform cruelty upon the innocent and the damage it'd done to them. How they'd fled the moment they got the chance.

His respect for her grew as well, the bravery it must have taken her to tell him first of such pain, and he decided to be brave and repay her honesty in kind. The Keeper had told him of how she hadn't judged them for their use of unforgivables, and while he felt that his usage of one, deserved far more judgement than theirs, he did hope she wouldn't twist the knife.

I see... you too. I'm sorry, to have this in common with someone else, it's not something I'd wish for, yet I cannot deny that I feel comfort, being understood. I've only ever told them about my parents, perhaps it is not so strange that we fell for that same person.

And she hadn't, she'd been so accepting. So, he was...

“Happy.” Ominis smiled softly, clearing his throat and elaborating. “I'm happy that you encouraged me to speak with her, I... I hadn't realised we had so much in common.”

“I see.” The Keeper smiled as well, easily guessing what he was speaking of, since they'd felt it then too, when they'd learned of Poppy and Ominis’ similar backgrounds, that the two would make good friends. “I'm glad to hear that.”

Yes, they were very glad indeed. The Keeper knew that they loved Ominis deeply and jealously, and they hadn't been sure if they would react well to him forming another close relationship with someone besides Sebastian and themselves. Even though they'd known he needed it, that Ominis wouldn't be able to fully shed his insecurity if he thought that only people who wanted to fuck him could accept him, because it wasn't true, and they'd known that he feared it, because they'd feared it too.

Without knowing it, without noticing it, a fear that the Keeper had only recognised when it was gone, when they'd made true friends over the last year. When Poppy had let go of her desire for their body and heart, yet remained their loyal friend.

So, they were glad, very very glad. That the peace on Ominis’ face wasn't causing any negative feelings within them, no bitterness, no regret, or envy. There was nothing to be jealous of. He was still theirs, the only difference... was that he was happier now.

And that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

“I still don't think you should do this.” Ominis insisted with a frown, wringing his hands anxiously. “There isn't even any real reason to risk it!”

“It'll be alright, Ominis. We're here, aren't we?” Sebastian affectionately bumped his head against Ominis’ while rubbing a hand over his arm. “The pain energy Isidora extracted looks different, but that doesn't make this one dangerous.”

“That doesn't mean it's safe either.” Ominis countered sharply.

The Keeper sighed, setting the jar down on the picnic mat beside them and taking Ominis’ hand, threading their fingers together. “Ominis, I understand your concerns, but if I'm to understand how to relieve Anne's pain, I need to know for sure what I'm even extracting.”

“Then why do you have to test it? Why can't you just keep extracting until you get the same thing that Isidora got?” Ominis shook his head.

“Because I've been doing extractions for the last two weeks, and all we've gotten are three jars of this same new heavy liquid-like pain energy, rather than the smoky bubbly ones Isidora got.” The Keeper sighed. “We're at a bit of a roadblock here. I need to know what we even have, otherwise I can't be sure what else to try.”

“I just-” Ominis clenched his fingers tightly around theirs and took a shaky breath.

“I know.” The Keeper murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It'll only be a small amount, less than a hit's worth. Even if it's different in a bad way, such a small amount surely wouldn't do much. Isidora’s extracted pain took many hits to have a lasting effect on me.”

“Plus, we have you, Ominis.” Sebastian smiled reassuringly, only for his words to have the opposite reaction, causing Ominis’ expression to cloud even further with fear.

“Whose healer capabilities we will not need.” The Keeper glared at Sebastian, who winced, realising he'd accidentally made it sound like it'd be Ominis’ fault if something went wrong, and he wasn't able to heal them. “But on the off chance that I do need to go to Saint Mungo's, you'll easily keep me alive. I have no doubts, so you shouldn't either. You being here in and of itself is a safety net.”

“That's right. Ominis, you were studying under Nurse Blainey for months and she's had nothing but praise for your progress.” Sebastian quickly followed. “Even if you don't trust yourself, you can trust us, and you should trust your teacher's judgments. Or are you saying that the woman who saved our beloved isn't a reliable healer?”

Ominis blinked at his unexpectedly shrewd approach and the Keeper smiled, there was that quick brain of Sebastian’s at work, he was clumsy, but he certainly could learn. Look at him, working around Ominis’ accountability anxiety with reason.

A soft huff left Ominis’ nose and he nodded with a smile. “I suppose I can't argue with that.”

“Good, because if you did, you'd be dimmer than me and that's a low bar.” Sebastian nodded firmly and the Keeper laughed at his confidence.

“Not sure you're quite that bad.” Ominis chuckled.

“Oh, I am fully aware of my status as the biggest idiot on the planet, but thanks anyway.” Sebastian grinned and placed a kiss on his cheek. “And even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

“I suppose idiots die hard too, so that's kind of a good thing.” Ominis shook his head with a sardonic smile.

“Well then, in that case, we have nothing to fear.” The Keeper grinned as he gave a surprised laugh, deciding that Ominis seemed sufficiently appeased thanks to Sebastian's quick damage control. They released the blond's hand and collected the jar once more, before standing to put some distance between themselves and the boys, just in case.

Taking a few steps away from the picnic mat that they'd just had tea on, in the courtyard under a tree, the Keeper trod carefully across the soft young clovers that were growing and slowly overtaking the grounds. With a quick twist, the jar's cover came off and they lowered the tip of their wand into it, extracting a small bulb from the viscous pain energy gathered at its base.

Anticipation coiled in their chest. The Keeper hadn't been lying about the necessity of identifying the stuff they'd been extracting, but they had, admittedly, been very excited to try it. Holding the small bulb, they paused for a moment. Wait, how do I consume this...

The previous pain energy had been smoky, so inhalation was obvious. This one on the other hand... Well, it was more like a liquid. Swallowing? Tipping their head back and opening their mouth, the Keeper lowered the bulb onto their tongue.

There was nothing like a taste to it nor did it actually feel like anything physical was in their mouth, instead it felt like the morning mist, half there, half not, and it stung slightly as it passed, like alcohol. Streaming down their throat and fizzing in their chest.

The moment the sting evaporated, and the sensation ceased, the Keeper felt a familiar pulse of sweet burning energy flowing and throbbing through their body. Well, at least that was a similar sensation. Though, their heart sure was beating faster, was it excitement?

They pointed their wand at a nearby rock, a little larger than a head. “Accio.”

The rock obediently followed their call, however... the Keeper frowned as it landed on the floor a step away, continuing to roll sluggishly towards them, before coming to a stop at their feet.

“Is everything alright?” Sebastian called out, likely having seen their frown.

“Yes, I feel perfectly fine, just... it's strange, my magic hasn't been enhanced.” The Keeper hastened to reply, wouldn't want Ominis to have a panic attack after all.

“Perhaps it enhanced something else?” Sebastian suggested, standing, and walking towards them with Ominis in tow, since there hadn't been an explosion or anything like that.

The Keeper frowned, somehow, they felt restless. Unlike Isidora’s pain energy that sharpened their focus and senses, this one made them feel something almost akin to a burning itch in their muscles. The urge to pace or kick, their heartbeat pounding in their ears. Something else, eh?

Looking down at the rock at their feet, the Keeper drew their foot back and gave it a light kick.

The rock immediately flew across the field, slamming into a nearby wall of curing bricks and sending the bricks flying.

The Keeper stared at the would-be wall for a second, then at their foot, before groaning, rubbing a hand over their face. “Goddammit, we just stacked that yesterday.”

“Well, at least we know what it enhances now.” Sebastian grinned as he and Ominis came to a stop beside them, adding after a moment. “Also, your eyes are still red.”

“They are?” The Keeper blinked and Sebastian nodded mutely, swallowing the thickness forming in his throat when they turned their burning crimson glow on him. “I wonder why...”

“How are you feeling?” Ominis asked tentatively, reaching a hand out towards them.

“I'm alright.” The Keeper reassured, taking his hand, and resting it upon their chest. “My heart rate seems to have gone up but that's about it.”

Yeah, I think mine has too. Sebastian thought dryly to himself, releasing a heavy breath now that those ruby orbs had slid off him. There was something about their eyes, when they were like that, that made him feel like how he imagined prey would, when sighted by a predator. Though, he wasn't sure fear was what he was feeling.

Moving the Keeper’s hand to his shoulder, Ominis pressed his ear against their chest instead. “Hm. I suppose it's still a reasonable rate, like you've been for a jog.”

“See? I'm alright, love.” The Keeper squeezed his shoulder lightly as he straightened, before they held up the jar. “And, I think I've figured out what this is.”

“Oh? Care to share?” Sebastian asked, struggling to focus on the subject at hand when their crimson gaze returned to him, resting his eyes on their flushed cheeks instead.

“Since it was my physical strength that has been enhanced, I think that this is physical pain, whereas what Isidora extracted was emotional pain.” The Keeper explained, taking Ominis’ hand, and pulling him back towards the picnic mat.

“Emotional pain...” Sebastian hummed as he followed. “Her father?”

“Correct.” The Keeper nodded, taking a seat upon the mat as the red bled from their eyes, fading back into their usual colour. “Isidora was obsessed with relieving her father’s grief, the pain of loss, emotional pain. So, I think we can assume that all of the energy she extracted was emotional pain, which seems to enhance magic.”

“It is true that emotional distress can increase the strength of one's cast, perhaps that's why emotional pain enhances magic.” Ominis hummed thoughtfully, settling down beside them. “I wonder if physical pain energy boosts regeneration as well, since heightened strength and adrenaline aren't the only effects of physical pain. Pain signals the body to increase recovery efforts in the damaged region as well.”

“I have noticed that Macnair’s injuries healed slower after pain was removed, so there is a decent chance of that as well.” The Keeper agreed with a satisfied smirk.

It was quite promising that such a small amount of energy, barely a quarter of a jar, could boost their physical strength so much. Though unfortunately, its duration seemed quite similar to emotional pain as well, since they could already feel it draining from their veins.

Their gaze drifted to Sebastian as he took a seat across from them, his expression rather sombre.

“So, because we put Macnair through physical pain, that's what we got out of him.” Sebastian nodded absently. A few moments of silence passed before he met the Keeper's gaze with narrowed eyes. “Which do you think Anne suffers?”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully. “That's hard to say, I mean, her pain is caused by a curse, it could be physical since she doubles over like her body hurts, but it could be both because its origin is a magical curse...”

“In other words, we won't know till we try.” Sebastian's eyes were dark as they lowered to his clenched fists, and not in the way the Keeper liked.

“I still need further practice and trial before I can do an extraction without damaging the subject's aura.” They murmured, taking Sebastian's hands in their own, coaxing them to relax and open, rubbing their thumbs against the deep crescents his nails had left in those palms. Those calloused hands, large, and warm like his heart, were the perfect vessel with which to hold the Keeper’s entire world.

Raising his hand and pressing their lips to his wrist, the Keeper met his eyes with a steady gaze. “But I will master it and save her.”

For you.

How long have we been down here?

The flickering light of the cell lamp was almost hypnotic, and Selwyn imagined that he could see patterns forming in indistinct shapes on the floor. Dank and devoid of colour, even the school's mattress of peasantry cloth was more comfortable than the cot he was curled up upon, trying desperately to ignore the screams of his friend tearing away at his sanity.

He didn't know why their captors had only been torturing Macnair, but to his shame, a part of Selwyn was relieved that the Keeper had only ever chained him up and waved their wand over him, seemingly without doing anything, even after their escape attempt.

Speaking of which, Merlin, it was awful not being able to stand on his left leg. Not that there was anywhere in particular to go, but he kept forgetting and putting weight on the foot, only for his ankle to give way and send him careening to the floor.

The Keeper's behaviour had been impossible to understand, and he distantly considered the possibility that the mudblood might simply be insane. Though, it was hard to imagine the ice prince of Slytherin and that cocky bookworm just following along with the whims of a no-name nutjob.

Still, regardless of their three captors' dynamics, the more pressing question... was why Sallow had stopped by his cell to drop off a can attached to a string that led out through the bars.

Put this to your ear, we've got something funny for you to hear.

What the fuck was that supposed to mean? A part of Selwyn wanted to ignore the instruction, but another was curious. It had been far too long since he'd had anything to sate his boredom. He and Macnair would talk through the bars to each other, keeping each other sane, but it wasn't the same as going out or playing.

So, he cautiously picked up the can, placed it against his ear and listened with bated breath.

The silence made the sound of his heart, beating in his ears, feel all the more agitating, each passing second heightening his anxiety and anticipation.

Until finally...

“Does it hurt?”

“Y- yes...”

“Would you like it to stop?”

“P- please... please...”

“But you see, I need someone to experiment on. If it's not you... then I guess it'd have to be your best mate next door.”

The blood in Selwyn's veins felt like ice, his vision swam, and his head throbbed.

“I-”

“Would you like that? For us to torture Selwyn instead?”

His heart pounded in his chest and his grip on the can tightened, beginning to leave indents in the thin metal. He wouldn't, his best friend wouldn't do that, Macnair was all he had in this hell hole-

“...yes...”

“Yes what?”

“P- please... don't hurt me a- anymore...”

“Say it properly, what do you want us to do? Who do you want us to hurt?”

“...please... hur- hurt Oberon... not- not me...”

It hurt...

Those words cutting deep into his chest, were hurting him already.

Words that shouldn't exist. He wanted to unhear them, to erase the memory of his best friend, speaking his name while throwing him under the carriage.

Selwyn clenched his teeth, angry tears welling in his eyes and pouring down his cheeks as he lobbed the can at the wall. He curled up on the bed, his heart aching, chest tight with betrayal, his breath catching in his throat, shaking with sobs as the last comfort he'd had... stabbed him in the neck.

The sound of metal clattering loudly against brick walls, in the neighbouring cell, brought a shark-like grin to the Keeper's face. Macnair had done exactly what they’d wanted, though admittedly, they were a little disappointed in him for it.

“Told you he'd do it.” Sebastian snickered.

“I suppose I was overestimating him.” The Keeper shrugged, even their fellow street rats had some level of ‘honour amongst thieves’ and a semblance of loyalty, what a wanker. “Alright, let's head over while it's fresh.”

At their words, Macnair sagged in visible relief, causing the Keeper's irritation at him to spike, and they gave him a few condescending pats on the cheek with a derisive sneer. “Oh, don't worry, best mate of the year, your torture resumes tomorrow.”

His face paled and Sebastian barked a laugh at his surprised expression. “What, did you think we meant forever? Wow, you're even more disgusting than I’d thought.”

“Sure glad you're not my best friend.” The Keeper shot one last scathing glance at the chained boy before striding towards the door. “Come on, Sebastian.”

“See ya tomorrow.” Sebastian grinned as he followed them out before dropping the boy from his shackles.

“How's the new gate design coming along by the way?” The Keeper asked idly as Sebastian closed the door.

“I've done the calculations, and it should be pretty easy to swap out the swinging doors for sliding ones. Maintenance won't be too much of a problem either, since we can just vanish any dirt.” Sebastian frowned, turning to face them. “The only downside is that it'd take more effort to open and close those doors, since we'd still want them heavy for security...”

“Hm, maybe we can find a way to enchant them to move on their own when unlocked...” The Keeper nodded. “Perhaps we can tie them to the ley lines later.”

“Sure, we can just stick with the swinging doors for now.” Sebastian shrugged.

“Let's get started then.” The Keeper grinned, unlocking, and opening the door to Selwyn's cell. “Oh Selwyn, you poor thing...”

“That's got to hurt, being betrayed like that. You were always following that oaf around, even since first year.” Sebastian smirked. “Were the two of you childhood friends?”

Unsurprisingly, the lump of a boy remained silent, and Sebastian snickered, taking a few quick steps forward to grab him by the arm, only for Selwyn to swing a fist at him.

“Woah there.” Sebastian chuckled, leaning back to dodge the weak swing, and laughing when Selwyn’s momentum carried him off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. “I know you're upset, but you really should know better.”

The snivelling boy glared at him from the floor through tear filled eyes.

“You're lucky we don't want you in physical pain...” Sebastian grabbed him by the collar instead, dragging Selwyn, choking, to his feet. “Yet.”

The Keeper watched with interest as Sebastian chained Selwyn to the wall. What would they find this time?

Taking a step back, Sebastian waved a hand at Selwyn in offering and the Keeper gave him a grateful pat on the head as they approached, drawing their wand. With a deep breath, they began.

Selwyn's aura was saturated.

Absolutely saturated in pain.

The Keeper shifted their wand with excitement, examining the density of pain pulsing through his body’s aura. Unlike physical pain, which radiated outwards from the point of injury, emotional pain seemed to pulse from the heart, spreading its debilitating poison everywhere.

Curiously enough, there was absolutely no difference between physical pain and emotional pain, in the way it presented and affected the body. If anything, the energy in his brain was far more disrupted and erratic than it would be with physical pain, explaining his reckless aggression towards Sebastian.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

A saying that'd been making the rounds recently. Anyone who'd lived on the streets knew the ridiculousness of such a phrase, when words could easily mean the difference between life and death. When deals could be both made and broken, lives destroyed at the word of those with power, when identity and morals alike could be forged and lost with mere words.

Only the pretentious aristocrats spouted such nonsense, and it seemed, that the undeniable truth, was that words could cut deeper than a blade, especially when one had little else. Perhaps it wasn't so strange that it was the street rats who knew this well.

Having finished examining the state of his aura, the Keeper proceeded to extract his pain, twisting their wand as they withdrew, a method they'd found streamlined the energy to minimise tearing. They'd reached the point where they could draw about a fifth of a jar without damaging the subject's aura, but they still needed more practice.

They could probably use more subjects.

Opening their eyes, the Keeper examined the smoky and bubbly glob attached to their wand. Yup, that was the pain energy they'd been taking to boost their magic, the type that Isidora had obsessed over.

“So, it's confirmed then.” Sebastian murmured, offering them an empty jar to store it in.

“Yes...” The Keeper gazed at the energy curiously. “I wonder if there are other things I can extract, besides pain.”

“Now there's a thought. I do wonder what the effects of other emotions and sensations would be when taken.” Sebastian gave a thoughtful hum.

“Only one way to find out.” The Keeper grinned. “But we'll probably need a plan to create those.”

“Good point.” Sebastian nodded. “Though, I doubt it'll be easy to get positive feelings from these guys. What about-”

“No. I'm not doing an extraction on you.” The Keeper cut him off firmly. “I'm nowhere near confident enough that I can do so without causing any damage, and I will not risk either you or Ominis.”

Sebastian grumbled to himself for a moment. “I trust you.”

“And that's lovely, but still no.” The Keeper smiled wryly, ruffling his hair gently. “There can be as many test subjects as we need, but there is only one of you.”

Sebastian's freckles were stark against his flushed cheeks, and he flashed a sheepish grin. “Do you make a habit of picking up boys in dungeons?”

“Not really, but I'd make an exception for you.” The Keeper smirked, before turning their attention back to Selwyn, grabbing a fistful of his hair and lifting his head. “Legilimens.”

The inside of his mind was curiously quiet, compared to Macnair’s after an extraction. They supposed it made sense, emotions were more strongly tied to identity and perhaps extracting his hurt had- no, this numbness and lack of feeling was too vast to be a result of their extraction.

Perhaps, like physical pain, overexposure to emotional pain would cause the body to naturally numb the senses to reduce the damage dealt to one's psyche. It was a good thing they hadn't delayed their extraction then.

That did make them wonder about Isidora’s father, was his pain not also numbed after overexposure? Or was the pain of his loss impossible to numb? Had Isidora’s father simply been a walking corpse, reduced to nothing but pain, kept alive only by her persistence, forcing him to remain in the world of the living?

Then again, the mere idea of losing either Sebastian or Ominis was enough to cause pain within the Keeper, perhaps there were also differences in response to pain, from person to person. They barely knew anything about Selwyn, perhaps this was just how he dealt with pain, by going numb.

Perhaps they couldn't apply the same standards for emotional pain to everybody in the way they'd assumed with physical pain. Perhaps, not even physical pain was the same across all humans either?

It is not your pain to take.

Professor Rackham's words to Isidora abruptly came to mind. Was it possible that Isidora, in her determination to restore his original unbroken self, had begged her father to move on and let go of his grief. That her pleas for him to do something that was not possible, were constantly inflicting new wounds upon his heart?

The Keeper considered what Sebastian had said to them after the whole debacle with Anne, when they'd asked if he'd rather things return to the way they were.

Anne and I have become very different people. We've grown apart over the years, we couldn't go back even if we tried. And... I wouldn't want to have never become friends with you.

The remedy for pain lay in finding new things to live for, not in removing the source of pain forcefully.

The Keeper had experienced their own brush with managing pain and fear, when their addiction to emotional pain energy had become an unhealthy overreliance. They'd only managed to overcome it and gain control over it because of their desire to be free of that crutch. To stand on their own, and thanks to their partners’ support, they'd succeeded.

Isidora never came to this realisation, and with her escapism and denial, she'd harmed her father far more than anything with which fate had dealt him. The Keeper couldn’t imagine doing that to Sebastian or Ominis, to be so fixated and obsessed with a ‘past version’ of a person that they preferred, to the point of rejecting the actual person hurting before them in the present.

To only see the person they had been, rather than the person they are.

Sebastian, in spite of all of his flaws and shortcomings, had been able to grow, to learn to love again, to live again, even after losing Anne in the way that mattered most.

To approach his desire to cure her, not as a desire to return to the past, to undo what has been done, but instead to uphold his promise to her and move forward into the unknown future. To no longer seek a cure as a means of distracting himself from his loneliness and sorrow, his pain and despair, but instead with objectivity and resolve, as a task he'd set himself to.

They hadn’t been exaggerating when they'd said that there was only one of him, and more than ever, the Keeper was determined to help Sebastian, to save Anne so he could move on.

The healthy way, not the way Isidora had tried.

Goddamnit, they really needed more test subjects.

“Here's an idea.” The Keeper hummed, rolling their wand between their fingers as they paced before Macnair’s strung up and quivering form. “The Cruciatus curse is considered to be traumatic enough to cause mental harm as well as physical.”

“Must take a lot more than that to mentally harm you.” Sebastian grinned from where he was leaning against the wall, sounding rather proud of that.

“Come now, love. We both know you weren't putting your all into that one.” The Keeper chuckled.

“Did you want me to?” Sebastian's grin widened.

“Focus, darling.” The Keeper shook their head, before giving him a small smirk. “Maybe.”

His eyes went dark with heat at the confirmation and the Keeper rolled their eyes. Horny boy.

“But the point is.” The Keeper continued. “I wonder what would come from the Cruciatus curse.”

“Hm, well that's what he's for innit? Let's try it out.” Sebastian drew his wand. “Shall I?”

“Hang on. Accio gag.” The Keeper caught the woven rod with straps attached, that flew over to them from the bag on the floor nearby. Forcing Macnair’s jaw open despite his frenzied protests and fastening it to his face before waving a hand at him. “Alright, curse away.”

“Crucio!” Sebastian cast the spell, watching with a sharp grin as Macnair’s body instantly seized up, his eyes bulging and muffled screams squeezing past the gag while the Keeper began examining the boy's aura.

And it was fascinating. The moment the spell hit, his aura exploded with pain, it was everywhere and in such high quantities that they could barely believe their senses. Taking a deep breath, the Keeper began their extraction, only for the stream of smoke that they were pulling out, to become a raging river, and they cursed as an enormous gash ripped open across Macnair’s aura.

“Blast it!” The Keeper's eyes snapped open, what the fuck had happened? They had only caught a wisp of energy, why did his aura-

They stared at the mass hanging off their wand.

“Hey, are you alright?”

The Keeper barely heard Sebastian, too busy staring at the strange glob of energy they'd extracted.

It was... beautiful in a way, like red and black lava rolling endlessly from top to bottom, little bubbles floating and swirling around it, similar to the way Ancient magic would swirl about them when they stood upon the focus point of a Trace.

“Are you alright?” The Keeper jumped when Sebastian placed his hand on their shoulder, startling them out of their reverie.

“Yeah. I'm fine.” The Keeper shook their head, gesturing at Macnair. “Unfortunately, however, he isn't.”

“Did I hold the Cruciatus too long?” Sebastian frowned, scrutinising the boy's panting and limp form as he handed the Keeper an empty jar.

“No, you can't tell, but his aura is torn.” The Keeper grimaced as they shoved the energy they'd extracted into a jar, before returning their wand to scanning his aura. “He looks fine, but his ability to feel is pouring out of him like a faucet. In days or weeks, he'll be an empty husk.”

“Is there a way to repair it?” Sebastian frowned.

“Not that I know of. So far, I've been relying on natural recovery for minor tears, but this one is even bigger than the one Isidora left in her father, and she didn't even seem to notice that she'd torn it in the first place.” The Keeper paused, before scoffing. “Or she was simply insane enough to think that losing one's ability to even feel pain altogether, was a good thing.”

The Keeper eyed Macnair critically, watching the gushing energy pouring from his body like a disturbing misty spray of blood. Perhaps they'd might as well extract everything they could from him before he emptied entirely?

“I'll try to salvage what I can.” The Keeper closed their eyes and attempted to collect the energy bleeding from his body.

Unfortunately, the exact moment that the energy escaped his aura, and hit the air, it instantly evaporated into the atmosphere, rendering it impossible to collect.

Fine.

The Keeper tried instead to collect the energy as it bottlenecked at the gaping wound, but they were thwarted yet again, the flow of the energy being far too aggressive for them to grasp. It was like trying to row a boat upstream, against the current, with their Ancient magic simply getting dragged along by the cascade, out of his body to dissolve with his energy.

Each repeated attempt at fusing their ancient magic with any of the pain flowing out, simply drained their magic, and then said magic was promptly wasted. Aggravating, extremely aggravating. The Keeper was about to adjust their position to try catching anything they could from further up, when they felt a pair of hands take them by the shoulders.

“Okay, I'm going to do an Ominis and say that's enough. You're going to collapse.” Sebastian's arm wrapped around their waist, holding them against his chest to stabilise them, and only then did the Keeper realise that they were teetering like before.

“No, he's draining too quickly.” The Keeper shook their head. “If I miss this chance, I might not get another.”

“Ominis will kill me if I let you continue, and I feel like I'd be killing you by letting you continue.” Sebastian glared at them.

“Ugh, okay, how about you cast Crucio again? It might make the pain easier to draw.” The Keeper sighed.

“...are you just saying that so I'll let you continue?” Sebastian's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“I'm not. If it doesn't make it easier, I'll stop. Alright?” The Keeper smiled wryly. They were so used to Ominis’ fussing, that it was kind of sweet for Sebastian to be the one doing it for a change.

For several moments, his eyes searched theirs for any sign of deception, before Sebastian's jaw tightened, and his gaze sharpened.

“Deal.” Sebastian turned his glare on Macnair, looking quite pissed, as though it were somehow the boy's fault that the Keeper needed to exert themselves, continuing to support them with one arm around their waist, while he levelled his wand at Macnair with the other. “Crucio!”

The Keeper took a breath and dived back into Macnair’s aura, disregarding the high-pitched shrieks wheezing around his gag, as they attempted to weld their magic to as much of the pain as they could, before it escaped. Seeping into every crevice they could, before sucking all of it back towards themselves, pulling everything they could from his aura without any care for further damage.

“It's... it's working, it's easier to extract now.” The Keeper grimaced at the shakiness of their own voice and could feel Sebastian's arm tense against their body. “Just... a bit more and I’ll stop.”

Their vision was hazy when their eyes opened, depositing what they'd collected into the jar still hanging from their left hand, closing it, and simply letting it drop on the floor before casting Accio to call an empty jar to them from their bag, feeling the slight drain on their magic darken their vision further.

But they couldn't stop now, even with Sebastian's plainly concerned eyes upon them, the Keeper pressed on, they wouldn't get a second chance. Macnair was used up, so they had to make the most of him. They continued to extract, until they had two filled jars of that lava-like energy and Macnair’s throat was so raw from screaming that it no longer produced sound.

With each drain, the amount of pain being created by the Cruciatus curse seemed to become more... diluted, even in spite of the unforgivable. They did want to try and extract more, since this new energy type currently cost an entire test subject, but Isidora’s notes said she passed out during her first extraction, and they felt like they were pretty close to doing the same.

The Keeper sighed as they screwed the cover shut on the second jar. “I think that's... about as much as we'll get. It probably wouldn't... be very... effective to... to con...ti...”

The moment the Keeper's body went limp, Sebastian dropped his wand to catch them with both hands, releasing a soft grunt of effort.

And there they go. He sighed, gazing down at them as their head lolled back against his shoulder, brushing the sweat damp hair from their forehead with a mix of fondness and exasperation. Exactly as he'd expected, they really were pushing themselves to the limit for this. He glared at Macnair, sparing a moment to deliver a firm kick to his leg. Stupid weak purist with a fragile aura-

Naturally, at the impulsive movement, he found his balance to be at risk and grudgingly decided it was more important to keep his Keeper off the floor. Draping their arm over his shoulders and crouching, he hooked his arm under their knees and cradled them to his chest, before snatching his wand from where it'd fallen, and casting a feather-light charm on the Keeper's clothes.

It was tricky to grab the two jars off the floor, but he managed, setting them down in the Keeper's lap temporarily until he could carry them over to the bag and deposit the jars in it. Then came the cumbersome part, crouching again, he balanced his unconscious partner on his knee to sling the bag over his shoulder.

Honestly, as he stepped out of the cell and closed the door behind him, Sebastian was quite proud of himself for getting to that point, and it took him half the walk up the stairs before he realised that he'd forgotten to release Macnair from his restraints.

“Tynx.” Sebastian called out when he reached the second basement landing and the elf promptly appeared beside him.

“Master!” Sebastian had never seen the stoic elf quite so horrified, big eyes wide with fear, and he almost thought Tynx was in legitimate danger of passing out as well.

“They're alright, just unconscious from magic exhaustion.” Sebastian quickly rushed to reassure the elf. “I need you to clean up Macnair's cell and let him out of his chains.”

Tynx frowned at him for a moment, and Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, wondering if the elf was actually being suspicious of him or even considering the possibility that Sebastian had harmed his own lover, before Tynx gave a slow nod. “Yes... sir.”

The elf popped away and Sebastian sighed, well, he supposed it was a good thing that they had an elf that loyal, he probably shouldn't be too irritated about that.

No, the thing he should be irritated about, was his workaholic lover irresponsibly passing out and leaving the gargantuan, monumental, and terrifying job of explaining what happened...

To Ominis.

“Love, I'm fi-”

“You don't get to say that after Sebastian hauled your magically drained arse out of the Dungeons.” Ominis snapped, reaching out to shove the Keeper back down onto the bed, preventing them from sitting up.

“Up three flights of stairs.” Sebastian added, helpfully draping himself across the Keeper's stomach and propping his chin up on his elbows to avoid putting too much weight on them.

The Keeper rolled their eyes. “If you weren't intelligent enough to use a feather-light charm, I shall denounce you as my lover.”

“Of course I did.” Sebastian gasped in mock offence.

“Then what's the difference between carrying me up the stairs and going up on your own?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow.

“Being able to see the steps.” Sebastian replied easily.

There was a pause, before Ominis sighed. “Well, he's got a point, that's dangerous for you people relying on sight.”

The Keeper chuckled. “I'd love if your wand could teach ours how to see the way you do.”

“Why does that sound sexual to me?” Sebastian muttered, sounding genuinely bewildered.

“Get your head out of the gutter.” Ominis rolled up the parchment in his hand and bopped Sebastian on the head with it. “And go back to your homework.”

“Come on, there's still two weeks of holiday left!” Sebastian groaned, dropping his head and his full weight onto the Keeper's stomach.

“Oof- Seb, I love you, but you are not feather-light.” The Keeper shoved playfully at him, only getting a cheeky grin in response.

“The last time I let you procrastinate, you ended up embarrassing yourself, doing your homework in the great hall.” Ominis shook his head.

“Still got good grades though.” Sebastian countered and Ominis’ glare intensified. “Ugh, fine.”

He sighed, dragging himself off the Keeper, and the bed, with some grumbling, before seating himself at the table with his partially finished homework.

With Sebastian out of the way, the Keeper tried to sit up again, only for Ominis to push them down once more, and they groaned, holding his hand to their chest, and dragging him down along with them. “Come on, Ominis, I've been lying in bed for a day now. Any longer and I will surely begin to atrophy.”

Ominis braced himself on the bed, leaning over them with an expression that plainly said, ‘I'm a healer in training and you are spouting hippogriff shite’. “Right, muscle atrophy after lying down for a day.”

“Well, I probably wouldn't atrophy, if we were to do other things whilst lying on the bed.” The Keeper grinned when Ominis ears turned red, and Sebastian burst into laughter from the table.

“Smooth.” Sebastian grinned, before coughing when Ominis shot a glare in his general direction. “That is, don't mind me, I'll just be, er, doing my homework over- over here.”

“Come on darling, I'm feeling much better already.” The Keeper cooed, caressing Ominis’ cheek gently.

His eyes narrowed. “No. You are staying right here, lying down and resting.”

Dropping their head back on the bed, the Keeper gave a long-suffering sigh, releasing his hand and patting him on the arm. “Alright, alright. I give, you win.”

“Good.” Ominis straightened, brushing his hair back primly and the Keeper couldn’t help but smile as he returned to perching elegantly on the edge of the bed with his parchment.

He is so posh, holy shite. How were they fucking such a prim and posh guy? And loving it too. Crazy. If someone had told them three years ago, that they'd be shacking up with a prissy little lord that they willingly bent the knee to, the Keeper would've socked that person in the face, kneed them in the groin and thrown them out a window for such egregious and unfathomable insult.

But God they loved this guy, and his... wand, they hadn't been joking when they said they enjoyed blowing Ominis. It was just as pretty as he was. Then again, Seb's was great too. Hard to compare really, both were great in their own way. It wasn't like the Keeper ever paid much attention to any others’, they had been trying not to, in fact. Perhaps they were just biased because of who these particular magic wands were attached to.

Did I really just think of dicks as ‘magic wands’? The Keeper shook their head. See, this is what happens when I’m too tired to plan and have nothing to do. Certainly quite magical though, undeniably-

Wiggling to the side slightly and resting their head against Ominis’ lap, they asked curiously. “What've you got there darling?”

Smiling helplessly, as though he could tell that his lover was bored and was trying to make it his problem too, Ominis replied simply. “A letter from Poppy, now hush love, I'm reading.”

The Keeper glared at Sebastian when he snickered from across the room, it was probably his fault that Ominis was so apt at shutting bored people down with such finesse in the first place. Sighing, they began entertaining themselves by counting the beauty marks sprinkled along Ominis’ neck while he ran his fingers across the parchment, until he gave a concerned hum.

“What is it?” The Keeper asked, definitely not jumping on the chance to reinitiate conversation.

“Hm, Poppy has asked if she could visit to see the vivariums...” Ominis’ expression was plainly uncertain, and the Keeper frowned.

“We've only finished the ground floor and first floor of the castle. If she visits any time soon, it'll be fairly obvious that we're building all this from scratch.” They shook their head. “We’ll have to deny her request.”

“And exactly how should I go about that?” Ominis frowned, looking rather put out as he set down the letter. “I'd rather not give her the impression I'm rejecting her and cause offence, it was your idea to ask for her help.”

The Keeper sighed, and there came the panicked responsibility pushing, right on cue. Smiling wryly, they sat up, took Ominis’ hands where they were anxiously wringing, and reassured him gently. “You needn't fret so, Poppy is reasonable and if we ask her to respect our wishes, she won't hold it against us, and I would never simply drop such a task like this entirely on your shoulders. We can think of a response together.”

Ominis took a deep breath and returned the comforting squeeze of their hands around his, releasing the breath slowly. “You're right, I- I'm sorry.”

“It's quite alright, I understand that you've been enjoying your penpal friendship with Poppy and are afraid of losing it.” The Keeper smiled, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“Hey, at least you never have to worry about offending either of us. With all the violence you've dealt to us, we'd have left ages ago if such a thing were possible.” Sebastian casually contributed with a distracted shrug, staring at his parchment with a slightly confused frown.

The Keeper blinked at him for a moment. Well, was that blunt? Yes. Was that direct? Yes. Was that missing the point? Also, yes. But was he wrong? Actually... no.

“What Sebastian's trying to say is that you can always rely on us to have your back, no matter what you say or do.” The Keeper rephrased for him.

Across the room, Sebastian raised his head, and now it was his turn to blink. “Wow, that sounded much better than what I said.”

Ominis frowned, hesitating for a few moments before quietly asking. “...do you think I would?”

“Wouldn’t complain if you did, but we don’t expect you to.” The Keeper smiled.

“Yeah, you mother us enough already.” Sebastian's tone was dry, yet his affection was still plain despite that.

Ominis chuckled, blinking rapidly for a breath, and swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Alright... then, do either of you have an idea for how to turn her down gently? I’m quite at a loss.”

“Well, we don't have to turn her down fully, she just can't come over right now.” Sebastian's expression became thoughtful. “We'll most likely be done with the castle long before the end of the coming school year. So, we can just say that she’s welcome to visit then, at least it's a timeframe.”

“We can probably get away with saying that I don't want the half-finished project to be seen.” The Keeper nodded, before giving a casual shrug. “I don't exactly have a reputation for letting people see me practising or stuff like that. And I study with you two.”

“That's true...” Ominis hummed softly, his expression slightly guilty. “Are you sure you want to take responsibility for rejecting her? I mean, I did say earlier- but I don't want you to feel forced...”

“It's fine, Ominis. I don’t mind, she's probably used to it at this point.” The Keeper chuckled.

“You're not even lying per se, it's true that the vivariums will be done by the end of the school year, and they don’t even let people copy their homework.” Sebastian grinned. “See? We told no lies.”

Ominis’ distant stare became sharp with silent judgement, and Sebastian cleared his throat, sitting upright in his chair defensively. “What? Look, it's not like that time, alright? Not like Poppy's going to track us back to Dìon to see if we're lying and insert herself into-”

“And I think that you should start penning your letter in response before you begin to forget what we discussed!” The Keeper quipped brightly, patting Ominis on the shoulder while shooting Sebastian a glare that very clearly told him to shut up before he triggered Ominis further, which he wisely obeyed.

Begrudgingly, Ominis stood and went to find his self-writing quill while Sebastian returned to his homework to distract himself from that guilt inducing memory lane, his shoulders hunched with shame, and the Keeper flopped back onto the bed with a tired sigh. Well, at least they were more tired now, probably be a good idea to follow healer's orders and get more rest...

The sound of Ominis unexpectedly walking back into the room caught their attention and the Keeper raised their head to watch as Ominis set down a steaming teacup beside Sebastian.

“Here, some hot tea will help you relax and focus.” Ominis sighed, and the brunet's face practically lit up, his eyes suspiciously shiny.

“Thanks, Ominis.” He partially stood, just high enough to place a kiss on Ominis’ cheek, getting a gentle pat on the head in return as Sebastian sat back down to concentrate on his homework with a lighter atmosphere about him. While the blond wandered off to the other side of the room and drew the curtain for some privacy as he used his quill.

A soft and relieved smile spread across the Keeper's face. It was nice being reminded that they didn't always have to intervene, like a soldier on guard duty, that the two boys had their own form of communication that predated their inclusion.

That despite the differences between Ominis and Sebastian, their difficulties communicating with each other and their rocky past, they still insisted on being together. Their love, and determination to make each other happy, to lessen each other's hurt, was quite sweet. Like a cat and a dog trying to live together and groom each other in their own way. Their differences only made the miracle of their relationship all the more beautiful.

As the Keeper closed their eyes, they were filled with warmth and happiness at being a part of this beautiful thing. It made every effort worth it.

They made every effort worth it.

Chapter Text

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Remember that time, Oberon? When we snuck into my dad's office and stole his firewhiskey and replaced it with tea? That was-

Drip.

-one hell of a heist wasn't it?

Drip.

Drip.

Remember the time you accidentally kissed my girlfriend? Forgave you for that, didn't I, Oberon?

Drip.

Stood up for you against your dad when he thought you broke that pot on his shelf. He was all like “Oberon Selwyn, how dare you break my grandfather's urn!”.

Drip.

Yet, you think you have the right to feel betrayed?

Drip.

Drip.

You never volunteered to take my place.

Drip.

You were just so relieved it wasn't you.

Drip.

Drip.

Oberon...

Drip.

I was so scared... I was in so much pain...

Drip.

Drip.

Obe-

Drip.

-ron...

Tap.

Drip.

Tap.

Drip.

Creeaaaak.

“A very good morning to you, Selwyn.”

Drip.

“How was your sleep last night?”

Drip.

Oh, look who's here...

Drip.

I think, it's your turn to feel-

Drip.

- fear.

Drip.

“Feeling well rested?”

Drip.

Drip.

“No greeting for us? Not even a thank you? And here we were so-”

Drip.

“-nice, letting you have some quality-”

Drip.

“-time with your ex-best mate.”

Drip.

Drip.

The only response the Keeper received from the dazed boy, bound as he was to a chair, was frantic breathing, as though he couldn’t even hear them. His half-lidded eyes glassy behind his brown matted hair, his face ashen and grey. They crouched before him, obstructing Selwyn's view of Macnair, who was strapped loosely to another chair just across from him, the black-haired boy's eyes empty and soulless.

Observing him, they noted that his hands spasmed every time the agricultural tool, that they'd borrowed from Ominis, and which Sebastian had then modified, released a single droplet of cold water to land on the centre of Selwyn's forehead. His eyes would jump erratically upon contact, and his whole body would flinch, almost as though that impact of a single bead of water could be likened to a blow to the head.

In contrast, the pauses between each droplet made his pupils dilate, his body near trembling, as though the next drop was the most terrifying thing in existence. Breathless anticipation for it driving him mad.

Which was the point, of course.

“What do you think?” The Keeper asked.

“Well, I'd say he looks about right.” Sebastian shrugged. “Nothing for it but to take a look I'd imagine.”

“True. I'll take a quick peek to confirm first then.” They nodded absently as they drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Entering Selwyn's mind felt like stepping into a thick sludge of creeping, crawling fear, and the Keeper recoiled as they were deluged with a suffocating blanket of anxiety. Well, at least his torture seemed to have stripped him of any mental defences he might have, much like emotional pain did.

As the Keeper struggled to get a hold of themselves, a droplet of water hit his forehead with all the force of a bludgeon to the head.

Aaand nope. Without another thought, they promptly did an about face and exited his mind.

“Hoo boy, now that is disgusting, ugh. Absolutely awful.” The Keeper shuddered, trying to shake off the feeling. “Well, I'd say that was incredibly effective, how did you even come up with this one?”

Sebastian gave an awkward laugh, flashing a sheepish grin as he scratched the back of his head. “I'd love to take credit, but I actually got the idea from a short story in an American magazine.”

“You read magazines?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, my brain would be mush if I only read tomes, I do some recreational reading from time to time.” Sebastian straightened defensively.

“Would it kill you to pick up a newspaper instead?” The Keeper sighed.

“Bleh, you get more out of magazines than the papers if you want anything new and interesting. Pure gossip rag, the Daily Prophet.” Sebastian shook his head. “Anyway, The Compromiser, it was called, the short story that is. Never thought its description of Chinese Water Torture was something that'd end up useful, but here we are.”

“Remind me never to cross the Chinese.” The Keeper chuckled dryly.

“Doubt it's actually Chinese, the story's in English and didn't seem like it was translated, imagine the author might've just named it like that to make it seem more interesting.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“That so? Well, either way, it looks like it worked.” The Keeper grinned. “Now let's see if I can extract anything from this.”

The Keeper closed their eyes and began scanning Selwyn's aura. As they did so, they quickly realised that every time the water hit him, pain would radiate across his aura, making it difficult to detect anything else. It was curious that such a small thing could cause pain, but then again, the steady drip of water upon stone could eventually erode even rock, perhaps it wasn't quite so strange.

“Seb, could you put a pause on it?” The Keeper leaned over to whisper into their partner's ear.

“Sure.” With a quick swish of his wand, the contraption ceased its uneven release of water and the Keeper returned to their examination.

As time stretched out and the expected droplet never made its descent upon Selwyn's skin, his fear and anticipation only mounted, and as it did so, the Keeper focused. Raising their wand and attempting to detect the strand of emotion, one they did not know the texture of, yet must certainly be present for his mind was so deeply steeped in it.

Somehow, however, they weren't finding shit. The Keeper fought the urge to punch the sobbing and trembling boy, because it wouldn't help if they added pain into the mix again.

The Keeper took a deep breath, maybe they were coming at this from the wrong angle. Pain signals to the body that something needs resources and attention to heal, fear on the other hand... it wasn't fun, but they thought back to what they'd felt in his mind. Tightness in the chest, difficulty breathing, numbness in the fingers...

Fear... perhaps it was less a signal and more a... state of being? How would they get that out then? Where would they get it out from? The Keeper frowned and began scrutinising his aura, perhaps rather than something moving... they focused their ancient magic on the body of the aura itself.

Maybe instead of scraping pain as it rippled off the surface of the aura, they'd need to literally dig deep. After all, fear comes from within.

So, they did. The Keeper forcefully burrowed their ancient magic into his aura, piercing the surface tension, slowly and painstakingly reaching the tendrils of their magic deeper into his soul. It took a few moments, before they noticed that the tips of their fingers, wrapped around their wand, were getting... cold.

There was a barely noticeable chill creeping up along the wood ever so slowly, its frost setting in so gradually, that it'd escaped their attention.

“What the-” The Keeper hissed, flinching when their magic touched something distinctly slimy, and cold as ice.

The tendrils of their ancient magic recoiled naturally from the uncomfortable sensation, only for whatever they'd touched to follow them, its chill clinging to their magic as the Keeper frantically withdrew from Selwyn's aura. Their eyes opened as they extracted their magic, watching with disgust as their wand came away with a long black string of thick, slimy, and sticky looking... goop, clinging to it.

“Ugh, is that his fear?” Sebastian's voice sounded equally disgusted as he held out a jar under the strand, where the pooling gunk was hanging low.

“I think so.” The Keeper grimaced, trying to shake the goop from their wand and into the jar. “At least it didn't cost much, didn't need to meld my magic to it or anything, it just- clung to me on my way out.”

“Well, fear is contagious and rather hard to shake off.” Sebastian mused, raising the jar to look at the sticky mess clinging to its glass walls.

“I suppose so... gave me chills when I touched it.” The Keeper grimaced. “I think this is the first time I've not wanted to taste a new type of magic.”

Sebastian gave a sympathetic laugh. “Yeah, no kidding, this stuff looks pretty nasty. Reminds me of ink cap mushrooms.”

“Still, it behoves us to test it regardless, it could prove too useful for mere discomfort to dissuade its use.” The Keeper sighed, folding their arms. “After all, we've seen in testing how much more powerful and efficient even a fraction of the energy created by the Cruciatus curse is. Boosting both magic and physical strength to the same level as a full hit with only half a dose. Even if it costs too much to harvest it...”

They trailed off, their expression becoming distant for a few moments, before their eyes widened.

“Hang on, if it enhances both... I just had an idea.” Lowering their arms, the Keeper immediately made for the cell door. “Let's go to the lab.”

Sebastian blinked in some confusion, as they rushed out of the cell.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” The Keeper paused mid-step to call back to him. “You can start up the drip again.”

Sebastian chuckled, flicking his wand at the dropper tool, amused when its first drop actually got a scream from Selwyn. Exiting the cell and closing the door behind him, he dutifully followed his partner at a jog, quickly catching up to the Keeper, who was already halfway up the stairs.

“So, you know how I tested the Cruciatus pain energy a few days ago.” The Keeper began speaking the moment he caught up to them.

“Uhuh, after spending an hour convincing Ominis to agree to the test.” Sebastian flashed a wry grin. “I hope you've got something good planned for the Fear, because I think he's just about ready to explode again.”

They grimaced, shaking their head at the reminder. “Well, I'm sure I'll think of something, but I can worry about that later.”

He shot them an incredulous look, they'd really gone ahead with the experiment even before preparing an argument for Ominis? Exactly how improvised were those arguments?

“If you recall, at the time, I theorised that it was because of the intense mix of emotional and physical pain, caused by the Cruciatus curse, that raised its pressure high enough to rip a hole in Macnair’s aura and likely why it provided such a powerful boost when consumed.” The Keeper explained, sounding more like they were thinking aloud rather than speaking for his benefit.

Pushing open the door to the potions lab, the Keeper strode across the room to the second potions station they'd added for themselves and waved their wand to begin setting up the cauldron. They then plucked two jars from the table's shelf as well, one labelled E-Pain, for emotional pain, and the other P-Pain for physical. He could see where this was going.

“I think, if we mix emotional and physical pain energies, we might be able to create more of that.” The Keeper gazed at the jar of red and black lava still remaining on the shelf, labelled C-Pain, their eyes gleaming with greed. “Cruciatus Pain energy.”

“Without the cost of a test subject.” Sebastian nodded, it made sense.

“I'll just use this cauldron...” The Keeper murmured to themselves, opening the jar of P-Pain energy, and dumping its thick and bubbly liquid-like contents into the pot. They then opened the jar of E-Pain energy, catching a wisp of bubbly smoke with their wand and lowering it into the cauldron as well.

They hadn't even heard him, Sebastian shook his head with a fond smile, they sure are excited. It was kind of strange, seeing his partner so animated for a change. He wasn't sure what he looked like when he got excited, but if it was this cute, he could see why they were always staring at him with that smile around their eyes.

Seeing the Keeper frown and heave a disappointed sigh, he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, peering into the cauldron, and quickly understanding the source of their frustration. The bubbling smoke wasn't mixing with the heavy liquid. Instead, the gassy cloud of bubbles seemed to be creating a layer, sitting over the top of the liquid.

“Maybe give it a stir?” He offered them a ladle and they raised a sceptical eyebrow at him, but took it anyway, lowering it into the pot and giving it a swirl.

Unfortunately, the ladle went right through the stuff, not causing the energy to move at all.

The Keeper sighed again. “Bloody incorporeal energy.”

“Let's not give up yet, why don't you add more emotional pain?” Sebastian suggested. “Maybe it's like potion making and won't react until it's the correct amount?”

“You're right.” The Keeper nodded, giving him a grateful smile, and pulling out more of the energy to add to the mix, murmuring quietly under their breath. “Come on...”

As the smoky layer thickened and the jar gradually emptied, Sebastian noticed that the table under his palm had begun to vibrate ever so slightly, and a feeling of unease washed over him.

“Look out!” He yelped, grabbing the Keeper by the shoulders, pulling them a step back when the cauldron began to hum.

There was a blinding flash of red light, and then the pot went still.

Sebastian's shoulders sagged in relief. “Merlin, thought the thing was going to explode or something.”

Giving Sebastian's hand a gentle pat, the Keeper smiled. “Well, it didn't, but I appreciate your caution.”

Returning to the tableside, the two of them peered into the cauldron and a wide victorious grin spread across the Keeper's face. “Well, looks like I was right about the combination.”

Inside the pot, was now a familiar molten liquid, rolling and swirling restlessly in defiance of gravity.

“And I was right about the ratio.” Sebastian grinned proudly and they nodded with a satisfied smirk.

“Now all we need to do is get more physical pain and we'll be able to convert the entire repository into this... complete pain energy.” The Keeper chuckled and began pulling the freshly created C-Pain energy into the empty jars.

As his partner busied themselves, Sebastian's eyes drifted over the shelfs, checking that all was in order, before his roving gaze came to a stop, resting on the jar of black inky Fear energy. Hang on...

He squinted at the jar.

Was it moving!? Sebastian quickly took the jar down and stared at it intently for a few moments.

“Hey.” Sebastian lifted his head, his brows furrowed. “The fear's... evaporating.”

“It what!?” The Keeper exclaimed, eyes widening in alarm as they set down the jar they'd been holding and snatched the jar of Fear from his hands.

Inside the glass was the unmistakable sight of black smoke rising from the inky sticky mess, and they could easily tell from the residue on the jar's sides that its contents were steadily diminishing.

“Blast. I have to test it before it dissipates then.” The Keeper frowned.

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. “Before convincing Ominis?”

“We don't know how fast this will disappear, we can't afford to wait.” The Keeper grimaced. “We'll just have to deal with that later.”

“Good luck with that.” Sebastian's tone was dry, and he caught their hand before they opened the jar. “Hold on a minute. Considering what happened with the wall, perhaps we should do this in the hallway.”

“Ah, yes, good idea.” The Keeper nodded, glancing at the jars on the shelf, before quickly leaving the room with Sebastian in tow.

Outside, the Keeper was once again faced with the question of how to consume a new type of energy. They'd gone with putting the lava-like C-Pain energy in their mouth, like they had with P-Pain, but they really weren't keen on doing that with the icky Fear, even though they knew it wasn't likely to have any taste either.

Drawing a small glob of Fear out of the jar with their wand, the Keeper hesitantly raised it towards their mouth, when said glob decided to elongate, creeping inconspicuously towards the floor, unbeknownst to them.

“Ah, dripping!” Sebastian exclaimed, drawing their attention to it.

The Keeper quickly moved to catch it with the jar and jumped when the string of goop draped across their thumb, its chill sharp and biting against their skin. To their surprise however, the black substance quickly seeped into their pores, their veins pulsing an inky dark, visible just under the surface.

Well, there was their solution then.

“Here, hold this for me.” The Keeper handed off the jar to Sebastian and lowered the rest of the glob, still attached to their wand, into their palm.

In a few moments their body completely absorbed it, the black substance vanishing entirely from sight. Almost instantly, the Keeper felt their heart rate pick up, a lot more than with physical or complete pain energy, they could hear it pounding in their ears and feel it thumping in their chest.

“Oh, okay, that's creepy.” Sebastian commented, his expression rather discomforted and his words oddly muffled in the Keeper's ears.

“What is?” They asked, the question coming out a little breathless.

“Your eyes are black.” Sebastian shuddered. “Completely. Even the whites.”

“Interesting...” The Keeper murmured. “Perhaps all the varying emotions and senses will have different effects on-”

Fuckin’ round with ‘nother bloke ey, slag?

The Keeper stiffened at the barely audible whisper, spinning to face the dark hallway stretching out behind them, their shoulders tense and their eyes darting about in search of its source.

It was empty, not a soul in sight besides Sebastian and themselves, yet that mocking voice had been unmistakable...

“What's wrong?”

Disgusting whelp.

“Lumos.” The Keeper raised their wand to illuminate the dimly lit hallways to their left and right. Where was it coming from? There was a creeping sensation prickling up along the back of their neck, a familiar feeling, the gut tightening sensation of being prey in the eyes of a predator.

Give us a good show then...

“Love?”

On your knees.

They felt it, a shift in the air, the intent of another to grasp their shoulder and force them into submission, the instinct to flee or fight.

Time slowed, every fibre of their being painfully aware of its approach as their heart pounded in their ears.

Without thinking, the Keeper's hand shot out to catch the wrist of their attacker, pulling him forward and slamming him against the wall, their other hand planted firmly between his shoulder blades.

“Ow ow ow! Merlin, I know you like it rough darling, but you gotta give me some warning.” Sebastian groaned from where he was pressed against the bricks and the Keeper immediately released him as though burned, recoiling in confusion.

“S- Sebastian?” They gasped, taking a few shaky steps backwards, their fingers trembling and their knees weak from shock.

“Oh good, you can hear me again.” Sebastian pushed himself off the wall, rubbing his wrist with a dry chuckle, skin red where they'd grabbed. “I was beginning to worry that you might not be able to see me either. Merlin knows I've enough experience with that.”

“What-” The Keeper shook their head, pressing a hand to their warm forehead, the two of them were the only ones in the hallway. Why had it felt like they were in imminent dange-

Sebastian took their hands with a soft smile, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of their fingers soothingly as the black gradually faded from their eyes. “It's alright, it's probably just the Fear you took, likely as not.”

“I- yes... yes that must be it.” The Keeper took a deep breath and shook their head, trying to dispel the lingering disorientation. “Bloody hell, it felt so real... I feel like a right moron. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?”

They retrieved a hand to brush their thumb gently against his cheek, the soft and freckled skin slightly pink from where it'd impacted the wall.

“It'd take a lot more to injure me, I'm sure you know.” He shook his head with a cheeky grin, before it took on a wry tinge. “Those were some fast reflexes, I'll give you that. But for once, I think it might be better to abstain.”

The Keeper nodded slowly. “I think I'll agree with that sentiment... its boost to reflexes aren't worth that level of anxiety. Over such a small dose no less.”

Not to mention auditory hallucinations. Even if they became more agile, it would be useless if it made them jump at things that weren't there.

“Seems like we won't be able to store it outside a host for very long besides, not exactly a viable substance for use either ways.” Sebastian shrugged.

“...true...” The Keeper sighed. “At least we've confirmed that other emotions can also be extracted.”

“...are you going to tell Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked after a moment.

“Of course. It'd be worse if he found out later. We've done that before, Sebastian.” The Keeper raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I know, I just... I never know how to help when he's upset.” Sebastian grimaced, taking a breath. “I- it's just, it bothers me. What does it say about me that I can't comfort him after all this time? I love him so much, but I just keep saying the wrong things, sometimes I don't understand why he even likes me.”

“Because you try, because you keep trying. And you have helped. You don't succeed all the time, but he knows you're trying.” The Keeper cupped his jaw gently, placing a soft chaste kiss on his lips. “And I know, so I'm alright with helping you comfort him.”

He placed a hand over theirs, shaking his head ruefully.

“But I freeze up, I panic and open my mouth and then I blurt out the most rubbish things and make him feel worse. Aren't you tired of having to fix my mistakes too?” Sebastian murmured, peering up at them from under his lashes, looking uncharacteristically uncertain.

There was that soft, vulnerable, and very much afraid boy, hidden under all that bravado. Courage was being afraid but pushing through it and trying anyway. The admiration the Keeper had for Sebastian was indescribable and it hurt to see him so insecure.

The Keeper shook their head, the need to reassure him and comfort him was strong enough, that it felt like it was crushing their heart. “Neither of us are, nor need you fear, for I never will be. Everyone's bad at some things and good at others. We're partners. That means we help each other and make up for each other's shortcomings.”

“Ominis knows better than anyone, that being unable to do one thing doesn't make you any less than another. And I know that you hate people who look down on him, for being unable to see, just as much as I do.” The Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “So, don't do it to yourself either.”

A shaky smile fought to raise the corners of Sebastian's lips and the Keeper could see that he was flustered and struggling to find a way to respond, his eyes lowering shyly.

Taking his hand, they tugged him back towards the lab. “Come on, I need to finish packing away the completed pain energy. I'd also like to try making as much of it as we can with the physical pain we've harvested so far, and I need you to help me take notes as we go.”

“Ye-” Sebastian cleared his throat, swallowing before straightening and trying again. “Yeah, sure. Maybe we can figure out the exact ratio of energy, then we'll know how much physical pain we'd need to convert the entire Repository into pain's final form.”

“Sounds like a plan, I'll be counting on you.” The Keeper flashed him a grin and was pleased to see it returned.

“Yeah. Won't let you down.” He squeezed their hand tightly and followed them into the room.

Oh, it's quite alright, they're always being all stoic, and mysterious. They never tell anyone what they're working on and now they’re not letting me see the vivariums till they’re done, such a tease. Then again, I don’t have to tell you, that’s probably something you have to deal with often enough, I don’t know how you do it. You must tell me, one of these days, how you even get them to speak more than five words at a time!

Ominis chuckled, it was indeed a little frustrating that the Keeper rarely kept him in the loop as much as he'd like, quite like Sebastian, but he supposed that could be their own pride at work as well. Both of them. Still, Poppy's words did remind him that the Keeper and Sebastian were naturally very secretive people, and that they were incomparably more honest and forthcoming with him than anyone else.

And that was a good thing.

Even if he wanted them to be more so, especially considering the effort he'd been putting into being more open to discussion and compromise.

“Ominis, we're home.”

He lifted his head, a smile forming on his lips naturally at Sebastian's voice. He might complain about his boyfriend's clinginess, and they may butt heads often, but Ominis couldn’t deny that having Sebastian close always put him at ease in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Welcome home.” Ominis set down the letter he'd been reading.

“Have you had dinner?”

The accompanying sound of the Keeper's footsteps and subsequent sensation of fingers sliding lightly along his arm, on the other hand, made his heart skip a beat. How did this person constantly manage to just do things that made him feel so off-balance? Whether it be anger or arousal, even in the second year of their relationship, he was still getting embarrassingly affected by them.

“Not yet, I was waiting for the two of you to return.” Ominis answered, feeling oddly shy about the admission, perhaps it was a result of Poppy calling out the Keeper's favouritism towards him and Sebastian.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting then.” The Keeper replied, sounding chagrined as they took a seat at the table beside him.

“Not at all, I had just finished reading Poppy's return letter myself.” Ominis shook his head.

“Then let's speak while we eat, we've got some... um, updates for you too.” Sebastian suggested, dropping into a seat as well. “Tibsy.”

As Sebastian spoke with the summoned elf and she set the table with their dinner, Ominis frowned in concern. From his words and the trepidation audible in his voice, Ominis had a feeling that those updates weren't going to be about the castle's construction progress.

“Thank you, Tibsy. You may retire for the night.” The Keeper's dismissal was followed by a soft pop as the elf left.

“So, what is it you have to tell me?” Ominis asked, finding his utensils, and using them to examine the contents of his plate. Spearing a small strip of stewed sea cucumber with his fork, he popped it into his mouth, enjoying the springy texture and flavour of the gravy it had been soaking in, before beginning to cut up the venison steak beside it.

“We've been conducting research into the extraction of elements other than pain from our remaining guest.” The Keeper began, and already Ominis was irritated. “Today I successfully extracted Fear from him.”

“Why? Such a thing is unrelated to curing Anne.” Ominis demanded, his eyes narrow, they hadn't even taken the time to consult him before doing this... “It's inviting unnecessary danger, meddling in things we needn't and wandering into unknown territory.”

“Ominis, this power I have is completely unknown. The only person researching it was a madwoman from four hundred years ago.” The Keeper sighed. “Everything is unknown and will forever be so, if I do nothing with it.”

“Omi, I know you're worried about us, but if we don't find out, no one will. Are you really okay with letting this power just disappear, allowing knowledge to remain out of reach?” Sebastian entreated, and Ominis’ jaw tightened in response.

“I am.” Ominis replied firmly. “I'd rather ‘waste’ this opportunity than lose either of you.”

“Unfortunately, we wouldn't.” The Keeper's voice was hard. “We can't. Ominis, I understand your fear, but I can't just do nothing. This power is a part of me, and I want to understand it. To understand myself. And I need you to accept this.”

Ominis’ lips tightened, and a moment of silence passed, as he bit back the itch to snap that he was constantly the one pressured to be accepting of their decisions. Even he understood that it wasn’t like they’d chosen to have this Ancient magic ability that’s more unknown than your average witch or wizard’s skillset.

“You're the only person, I think, who can find their wand just by feeling its magic. The only one whose wand helps them see, and yet you still use it.” Sebastian pointed out. “Nobody taught you, nobody could. You had to figure it out on your own.”

Ominis sighed, he couldn’t quite argue with the two of them when they put it that way. Would he stop using his wand sight simply because it was unknown and could be dangerous? ...the answer was obvious. He too had tested the capabilities of his wand's vision, straining it to its limit to try and understand his own abilities.

“I suppose I can see where you're both coming from. It's just-” Ominis’ breath caught at the fear that gnawed at the edges of his heart. “I can't lose either of you.”

“You won't, we'll be careful.” Sebastian insisted. “In fact, we were so careful that- ah.”

The Keeper sighed and Ominis frowned.

“You were...” Ominis repeated, going silent for a moment, before the knife, clenched tightly in his hand, came down abruptly, its tip stabbing into the meat of his steak with a squelch. “You already tested it!?”

“Unng- sorry.” Sebastian murmured, likely to their partner.

“It's fine... I was about to go there anyway.” The Keeper sounded very tired. Well, too fucking bad, Ominis was pretty tired too, of being treated like his opinions on the experiments didn't matter.

“Ominis.” The Keeper's warm fingers brushed against his fist as he clutched the knife, and Ominis hated how the contact immediately soothed some of his anger. “Ominis, love, please hear me out first.”

He ground his teeth but remained silent.

“The Fear energy we’d collected appeared to be evaporating. I couldn't be sure that we would be able to successfully harvest more, and we didn't know how long it would take before it disappeared entirely." The Keeper paused for a moment, before continuing in a cautious tone. “Ominis, had I believed it wouldn't take an hour to persuade you, I might have waited for you to be present. However, I'd only have reason to believe that, if you were able to trust my judgement.”

“You didn't even give me the chance!” Ominis snapped back indignantly, offended that they were making their own secrecy out to be his fault.

“Why would I, when every other time has required no less than an hour to convince you?” The Keeper replied, their voice quiet and pleading. “Love, I'm not blaming you, I'm just telling you my reasoning for my decision. I didn't think you'd give me permission in time, if at all, because I had no reason to.”

“That's-” Ominis released his fork from his left hand and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “I-”

“...Ominis, I understand your fears, but I will not always have the time to seek counsel from you. I care about what you feel.” The Keeper's fingers were rubbing against his gently and it was starting to become difficult to hold on to his anger. “But if I am to do anything without making you feel like I'm intentionally hurting you by doing so, I'd need you to trust that I do care and would do my upmost to act with consideration for you.”

“I- I do! I just-” Ominis bit his lip and shook his head, he did want to. He really did. He wanted to trust them. He just couldn't get the feeling to go away, the fear of being betrayed. He didn't know how to. It was there, everywhere he looked, and he couldn’t turn away from it.

“They could have kept it from you.” Sebastian's voice shook, and Ominis wondered what was making him sound so afraid. “We could have kept it from you. Entirely. Think about it Ominis, you didn't even know we were experimenting with Fear. We could easily have kept it a secret completely. But we didn't.”

Sebastian took a deep breath before speaking in a rush, as though he were forcing the words out. “I asked them, if they were going to tell you, and they didn't even hesitate. I did. I was afraid that you'd be angry, that you'd push us away. Push me away, again. But they didn't want to betray your trust more than they feared your wrath, and neither did I.”

Ominis blanched. Fear? He'd made Sebastian afraid? Of telling him the truth?

“If you give us reason to fear being honest with you, eventually that which you fear… might become a reality.” The Keeper's voice was enviably calm, despite the gravity of their words, and Ominis was starting to feel like he was the one who'd been behaving like a hysterical woman.

“Ominis, while I understand it, it does still hurt to know that I don't have your trust.” The Keeper murmured, their voice sad. “You're not the only one who hurts when we do this.”

He flinched, that's right, he'd feel pain too if they expressed doubt of him and his love for them. He'd said the same himself when convincing the Keeper to be honest about their addiction. He'd allowed himself, in his pain, to forget that if they were being honest, his reaction in and of itself would then be causing pain as well.

“I... I'm sorry.” Ominis sighed, releasing his knife along with his anger, and taking the Keeper's hand in his own instead. “Sebastian, I- ...that helped. I couldn't change my perspective, not on my own. Thank you. Both of you.”

Ominis paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “I'm... I can't say I'll always be able to take it calmly, but I do trust the both of you, or at least, I want to. And… and I’ll try to remember this the next time you tell me about something you did before getting my input.”

“Darling, it's okay if we have to do this again, because with this, you've given us reason to believe that you will trust our judgement, that under your initial panicked response, you trust that we would do what pleases you if we could.” The Keeper placed his palm against their lips, so he could feel their smile. “That all we need do is remind you.”

Ominis smiled in return, perhaps this is what he should have done when Sebastian sought to cure Anne, perhaps this was the same problem Solomon had had. He and Solomon had made Sebastian afraid to be honest with them, and all it'd done was push Sebastian to pursue a cure in secret, almost costing him Sebastian altogether.

Yet, both he and Solomon had believed full-heartedly that the dark arts would also take Sebastian away, turn him into a monster. How was he to reconcile such a dilemma? Or could he do both? Not give his lovers the impression that he would reject them outright, while still maintaining his position.

“See Seb, I told you, you do manage to say the right thing sometimes.” The Keeper chuckled, loosening their grip on Ominis’ hand.

“Ugh, I think I burned half my brain cells doing that.” Sebastian groaned, and the sound of his chair's legs creaking quietly suggested that he'd leaned against its backrest.

“Save your relief for after you tell me what happened during the test.” Ominis folded his arms. “I get the point about my needing to be careful not to scare the two of you into dishonesty. Especially when you can’t get to hear my opinion, but I'm still going to evaluate your actions and decide if I'm alright with you even continuing this experimentation to begin with.”

There was a moment of silence, before the Keeper snorted. “Fair enough.”

Leaning forward, the Keeper steepled their fingers together thoughtfully. Honestly, they were very relieved at how smoothly that had gone, they'd been concerned that it was too early to try pushing that idea to Ominis, but it seemed like it'd been the right time to do so.

Now, the question was how to present the events of the day. Since Sebastian's factual and straightforward approach had been well received...

“Well, for starters, Fear energy seems to behave like, well, fear. It didn't need much in way of extraction, all I had to do was touch it and it latched on to me, following my magic out of Selwyn.” The Keeper began, taking a bite of their now cold steak. “An hour or so after extraction, Sebastian noticed it evaporating in its jar.”

“Yeah, it was practically smoking away.” Sebastian nodded, following their lead, and returning to his food. “I suggested we perform testing outside the lab, where there was more space. Turned out to be a good choice.”

“Upon testing, it appears to induce increased heart rate and anxiety, breathing difficulties, and auditory hallucinations from... unpleasant memories. Not an experience I’d recommend.” The Keeper drawled with a grimace. “As for benefits, it seems to boost reflexes, but we've decided that such a meagre benefit is not worth consumption and I've discarded it as a source of energy.”

Ominis blinked in apparent surprise and Sebastian flashed him a wry smile. “I told you, we're being careful.”

The shadow of scepticism crossed over Ominis’ face for a brief moment, before he shook his head and smiled instead. “I'm glad to hear that the two of you at least have the sense not to take something that sounds like outright poison.”

At his words, a sharp grin spread across the Keeper's face and their eyes gleamed with dark delight. “Funny you should say that, darling, because a few hours later, we made a discovery that makes this energy extremely viable as a poison.”

Ominis seemed to shiver at their words- Sebastian too actually, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow at their reactions. What? Was it something they said?

“What-” Ominis cleared his throat, cheeks slightly pink. “What did you discover?”

Brushing the moment off, the Keeper continued. “We found this.”

The Keeper withdrew a small pouch from their pocket and turned it upside down over the table. A single black orb fell onto the wooden surface with a solid thunk, about the size of a Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Bean, its surface pitch black, perfectly smooth, and glossy.

“The Fear wasn't simply evaporating, it was condensing.” The Keeper tapped lightly on the table where they'd dropped the orb. “I'm calling it a Fear-Pill, at the moment. Take a look, I'm curious if you'll be able to see it with your wand.”

Setting down his utensils, Ominis drew his wand, and its tip began pulsing with red light. “Hm, I can tell there's something there, yes. My wand's sight is a bit difficult to describe, but it feels like magic, like spells do when cast, just swirling about on the spot.”

“Interesting.” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully.

“We haven't tested this yet-” The Keeper quickly continued when Ominis expression became alarmed. “On Selwyn! Not on either of us.”

“Yeaaah, I know you don't think highly of our self-preservation instincts, but we're not that stupid.” Sebastian huffed. “If barely a handful can drive our fearless leader here batty, this little bugger's got to pack a hell of a punch.”

“That'll be fun to watch.” The Keeper exchanged a snide grin with Sebastian.

Ominis sighed. “Hopefully it doesn't kill him.”

“Yeah, there's bound to be a decent danger of that.” Sebastian nodded absently. “Would probably be good for you to be on standby on the First Basement floor.”

“We should probably get more Fear out of him before testing the pill, in case it kills him. Next week should do.” The Keeper turned the pouch inside out and picked up the Fear-Pill with it, before placing a hand on Ominis’ shoulder. “We'll call you if we need you.”

Ominis smiled softly. “You'd better.”

“Well, that's boring.” Sebastian commented dryly.

“Maybe it's not having any effect because the fear came from him?” The Keeper frowned down at Selwyn, who was slumped over in his chair, jaw still hanging agape after they'd forced the Fear-Pill down his gullet.

“Oi, Selwyn.” The Keeper kicked lightly at his leg, expecting him to react, to attempt to fight or flee despite being chained to the chair. They'd become fast enough to catch Sebastian's hand in mid-air after consuming the Fear-Pill, but Selwyn's body showed no sign of any change, his eyes weren't even black.

Then again, his eyes weren't just not-black, they also weren't moving. At all.

On closer inspection, his wide eyes were completely vacant and didn't even react to their words or actions. Which was definitely not natural, creepily so. Perhaps...

The Keeper drew their wand. “Legilimens.”

Huh, no defences again- the thought had barely crossed their mind, when the Keeper was forcefully pulled into a memory, flinching when they were hit with a wave of pain and the sound of muffled screaming.

They had been expecting it to a certain extent, but they’d pegged the boy as an entitled and pampered rich kid, one with perhaps some bad memories of being denied candy. They certainly hadn't expected to see violence, much less someone fucking Selwyn's ass raw into an expensive looking carpet.

“P- please, brother- stop- it hurts... I'm sorry-”

Yeap, that was a mental image the Keeper could have done without. They exited his mind immediately.

“How'd it look?” Sebastian asked as the Keeper came back to themselves.

“Horrible, he's in a waking nightmare.” They grimaced in disgust. “Seems like he's been sexually violated by his brother before, and the pill is making him relive his traumatic memories.”

Sebastian's eyebrows climbed into his fringe. “Huh. That's darker than I expected, I'd feel bad for him if he hadn't attempted to murder you a million times.”

“Does make sense I suppose. Monsters are made by other monsters...” The Keeper murmured, thinking of Isidora, of Ranrok, of themselves, of Ominis and Sebastian.

A heartless witch created by negligent mentors, a vindictive monster created by racism, a cannibal created by a corrupt system, a rabid cornered animal created by an abusive family and a sadist created by a callous uncle. They were all monsters by society's standards, in one way or another, but they hadn't appeared out of nowhere, they were a product of a world of monsters.

But the Keeper was fine with being a monster, they would simply chain two to their side and devour the rest. Perhaps then the world would have less monsters in general.

“Macnair probably had something too.” The Keeper mused as they holstered their wand, frowning thoughtfully. Well, Tynx was out on a grocery run so... “Tibsy.”

The elf popped into the cell and gave them a nervous bow. “Yes, Master?”

“Monitor him and record the time that he exits his stupor.” They gestured at Selwyn. “Don't worry, he can't hurt you while chained to the chair.”

“Yes, Master.” Tibsy squeaked, bowing again and the Keeper turned to leave the cell, before she quickly called after them. “Oh, Master, Tibsy was being helpings to Sir Ominis with brewings...”

“Oh, is that so? Thank you for letting me know.” The Keeper blinked. “Come on, Sebastian. We were planning to update Ominis anyway.”

“Do you really have to?” Ominis heaved a sigh.

“Well, mixing emotional and physical pain created an enhanced version of pain. So surely adding fear would only enhance it further, or at least give us something new.” Sebastian reasoned, and Ominis’ lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sorry for summoning Tibsy in the middle of helping you brew.” The Keeper smiled sheepishly.

“It's fine.” Ominis shook his head with another long-suffering sigh. “Just- just be careful, alright?”

“Of course, Sebastian can help you with brewing while I play around with the energies.” The Keeper gave him a kiss on the cheek before striding to their potions station leaning against the wall to the right of Ominis’.

Setting up the station like before, the Keeper dumped half a jar of completed and combined C-Pain into the cauldron, before opening a jar of liquid fear, labelled L-Fear, which they'd extracted before they'd given Selwyn the Fear-Pill. A majority of it had already solidified but there was still about half a jar worth of liquid remaining.

They'd found that the necessary ratio for C-Pain was equal amounts of E-Pain and P-Pain. As such, they'd attempt to reach the same ratio for L-Fear and C-Pain today. Drawing out the Fear with their wand, the Keeper grimaced as the sticky black slime began its slow descent into the cauldron.

The instant that the Fear's black tendrils touched the bubbling red and black lava however, the substance reacted violently, hissing, and bubbling angrily.

A beat passed, before a shock wave blasted out from the cauldron, knocking the Keeper's wand and the jar of liquid Fear from their hands, sending both flying in two directions.

It almost felt like time slowed, the Keeper watching in horror as the jar of Fear flew in the direction of Sebastian and Ominis at the station to their left.

No. The Keeper's chest tightened, this was their fault. Neither Sebastian nor Ominis should ever be touched by Fear, they wouldn't allow it. They wouldn't allow either of their lovers to be forced into anything approaching the nightmare that Selwyn was trapped within.

Reaching a hand towards the boys in desperation, the Keeper shouted. “Protego!”

At the same time, turning to look at the sounds, Sebastian spotted the incoming jar, and immediately realised that there wasn't enough time for him to cast anything or pull Ominis out of the way. Instead, he placed his back in the path of the black liquid spilling out of the jar, covering the other boy in his arms as he braced for impact.

Only for the sound of shattering glass to follow.

Opening his eyes tentatively, Sebastian raised his head, his breath heavy as he looked behind him, surprised to see the black ink sliding down a protego shield and the Keeper behind it, their open palm raised towards him and Ominis. The shield flickered for a moment, before disappearing, allowing the glass and Fear to slide to the floor.

“Are- are you two alright?” The Keeper gasped, their chest heaving.

“Y- yeah...” Sebastian nodded, his eyes wide. “Did you just- did you just cast wandless magic?”

“I... I suppose I did.” The Keeper blinked, lowering their hand to stare at their own palm.

“What happened?” Ominis demanded, his tone contrasting with the way he clutched at Sebastian's arm, looking somewhat like a spooked deer.

“The energy... reacted explosively.” The Keeper explained, taking a few steps around the mess on the floor to embrace the two boys. “I'm sorry. I should have been more careful.”

They'd need to put up a shield around the cauldron next time. The Keeper breathed a sigh of relief, cradling Ominis’ head against their left shoulder and Sebastian's against their right. That had been close, too close. Both of the boys had more than enough traumatic memories, a Fear stupor would be absolutely awful for either.

It was one thing for them to hurt themselves for their goals, and another to hurt their treasured ones. Not even the greatest power was worth that.

“What are the chances you'll finally stop this insanity?” Ominis mumbled, his words muffled against the Keeper's tunic.

“...next to none, I'm afraid.” The Keeper grimaced, stroking a hand over his hair. “I will take more precautions however, you have my word.”

With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “And if someone gets hurt the next time something unexpected goes wrong?”

“...we'll just have to be three steps ahead. I won't waste this lesson.” The Keeper replied firmly, turning to press their lips to the side of Ominis’ head. They could still feel the tension in his body, but he sighed again and seemed to relent.

“Sebastian said... did you cast a wandless protego?” Ominis asked instead, changing the topic, and trying to lift his head from their shoulder, only for the Keeper to force it back down. They weren't ready to let him go just yet. He gave a soft amused huff against their collar and remained still.

“Yeah. I- I think my wand's somewhere on the other side of the room.” The Keeper murmured.

“You're absolutely crazy.” Sebastian chuckled. “Ancient magic, wandless magic, it'd make more sense if you were the reincarnation of Merlin himself.”

Ominis made a thoughtful sound. “...children usually start learning magic with wands at eleven, while their cores are still too weak to wield proper magic…”

Sebastian hummed. “Oh, that's right, maybe it’s because you’ve only just started using a wand. So, not only is your core already fully grown, your body hasn’t become reliant on wands yet.”

The Keeper took a last breath of their mingling scents before releasing the boys. “Sounds reasonable to me...”

Casting their eyes about, the Keeper spotted their wand lying by the wall across the room and stretched their hand out towards it. “Accio.”

To their delight, their wand did in fact, move towards them. To their disappointment however, it did so in a slow and sluggish roll across the floor, like a ball in Summoner's Court, before stopping an entire meter away from their feet.

“Well, guess there has to be something you're not a natural at.” Sebastian grinned wryly, sounding oddly pleased about that.

“Isn't Onai- I mean, Natty, from Uagadou? I heard they don't use wands there. Perhaps she would be willing to teach you.” Ominis suggested.

“That's a good idea, I've seen her use wandless magic before too, I'll ask her about it.” They nodded.

Wandless magic, huh. The Keeper grinned, excellent. Another weapon in their arsenal.

Chapter Text

“And our provisions?” The Keeper asked, striding through the bare and empty halls of Dìon castle.

“We have enough to last two months at the moment.” Tynx replied, referencing his notes as he trailed after his owner through the building that they'd spent the last two months, well... building.

The Keeper paused to gaze into the large space that would become their bedroom, before strolling across the room at a leisurely pace to stand at the balcony, placing their hands upon the stone railings. No, it wasn't a building anymore, it was built. A satisfied smile spread across their lips as they surveyed their beautiful territory.

Their home. It was finally within reach.

They placed a hand against the frame beside them. With its bricks laid and its foundations firm, the castle's thick sturdy walls and floor would continue to cure and set as time passed, and the structure would only become stronger. Like themselves, the Keeper mused, as they turned to face the inside of the castle once more.

Closer to the size of a mansion than a typical castle, the various floors’ spaces were already segmented into individual rooms, with openings where doors and windows would eventually be. Those rooms remained yet entirely empty, devoid of furniture or trimmings, but the walls and floor were in place, and now, they could finally start turning it into a proper home.

As for the castle layout, there was the ground floor that housed the kitchens and workshop in the side building extension. The dining room in the centre of the main building, the armoury in one of the towers, and two wash closets, one on either corner of the main building.

The first floor, just above it, would be allocated to a modest ballroom that led out to the open-air patio above the kitchen, a large enough area to house a small party of about twenty or so people. They would likely place a shelter over it to protect guests from the elements and perhaps they might even use it as an unofficial landing platform when flying with their broom.

On the same floor, there was also a room that would become Ominis’ study, along with another for a medium sized library, where they would place their more... socially accepted reading material. As well as another two wash closets in the same corners as the floors below and above it.

The Keeper chuckled, Ominis had insisted on having wash closets on every floor and, neither they nor Sebastian had seen any reason to protest, nor had he given a reason for his insistence.

They imagined that he wanted the convenience with which to wash his hands whenever he got the itch, and they'd refrained from commenting on the frequency that their partner would do so, despite being able to use scourgify. It wasn't their business how Ominis managed his trauma, and it wasn't like their own methods were much better.

The Keeper then turned to leave the bedroom, passing the opening in the wall that led to the adjoining room, which would become their master bathroom. While not particularly large, said bathroom would have a pool, smaller than the prefect's but, hopefully, equally luxurious. The floor they were on would also house another three guest rooms and a guest bathroom on the other end.

Walking across the corridor, to the spiral staircase, the Keeper paused on the landing and glanced up along the long winding flight. The third and highest floor had a single large attic room that they still had no specific use for. Since they were using basement one as a storage space, there wasn't much they needed to place up there. Perhaps they'd put a telescope in the room, for Amit, if he ever visited or something.

Descending the stairs, with their elf following silently behind them, the Keeper sighed. “Well, work with whatever the animals produce and anything else you can hunt for now, I'll provide more funds if necessary.”

“Yes, Master.” At the Keeper’s subsequent gesture, the elf returned to his duties, disapperating with a barely audible pop. Tynx was so reliable. They honestly felt quite fortunate to have chosen such an intelligent and dependable elf by mere happenstance.

For his sake, they had to find a more stable and lucrative means of acquiring money. The list of tasks for their elves to manage on a daily basis was only growing and their loyal servants didn't deserve to become overworked just because the Keeper couldn't afford to hire- purchase more.

Their current earnings were enough for self-sustainment, but improvements would require more than they could reasonably acquire in the foreseeable future, and furnishing the house alone would be a challenge. At least their school materials were paid for by Hogwarts and the boys could settle theirs without issue.

Spotting Sebastian on the lower landing, the Keeper called out as they descended the stairs. “How's the first floor looking?”

“Stable.” Sebastian answered with a broad grin, and the boyish excitement in his eyes brought a smile to the Keeper's own face. It never ceased to amaze, how much the knowledge, that their partners were equally as happy and excited about their home as they were, could make their progress feel so much more fulfilling.

“Dare I ask how you tested that?” They asked with a bemused chuckle.

“Just a few spells and kicks, probably would've been more fun if we'd tested it together.” Sebastian's grin became suggestive as he leaned an elbow against the guardrail. “Though perhaps the bare brick wouldn’t be too comfortable for your back.”

“Or yours.” The Keeper returned with a smirk, and an adorable flush spread across his cheekbones.

“Touché.” Sebastian coughed.

“Oh, there you two are.” Ominis’ voice from the bottom of the stairs caught their attention.

“There you are.” The Keeper smiled, shivering lightly as those pale unseeing eyes swept across them, catching the sun's evening rays and glowing faintly as he strode up the stairs, the twin snakes draped comfortably across his shoulders.

Somehow, with his dark blue tunic and black pants as a backdrop for his fair skin and hair, paired with the shimmering, sleek brown and black striped scales of Mira and Kira, the entire ensemble lent Ominis an unexpectedly mature and elegant atmosphere.

Theirs, this beautiful creature was theirs, they could already see hints of the powerful man he was growing into, and good god they couldn't wait to see it. A heated breath left Sebastian's lips beside them, and the Keeper didn't need to look to know he was admiring the view, just as they were.

“Help me convince these two idiots that they don't want to follow us to Hogwarts.” Unaware of the enraptured gazes on him, Ominis’ voice was plainly exasperated as he stopped beside them on the landing, gesturing at the twin snakes around his neck.

The Keeper blinked at the unexpected request, while Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Er, pretty sure you're the parselmouth here.”

“They want to follow us to Hogwarts?” The Keeper asked, flicking Sebastian in the side of the head.

“Hey!”

“Yes... they were rather upset that I'd be going away for a long time again.” Ominis sighed. “Snakes don't typically have very good long-term memory, but these two seem to. And they're quite insistent on staying with me.”

“Hmm, well, they are an anomaly, even amongst their own kind.” Sebastian chuckled. “Maybe two heads means they have twice the memory space.”

The Keeper snorted. “Is there some reason they can't come with us? I thought Hogwarts allowed students to attend with familiars of any sort. As long as they aren't poisonous, dangerous, or above a reasonable size, leastways.”

“Well-” Ominis paused. “Yes, you- you would be correct...”

Seeing him trail off tepidly, Sebastian followed up with a helpful. “Plus, you're a parselmouth. Even the teachers know that any snakes of yours would be perfectly under control. Far safer than any other student's pet could possibly be.”

A grimace twisted Ominis’ lips and the Keeper immediately understood. “You don't wish to remind them, or the rest of the student body.”

Ominis sighed again. “I know it's ridiculous.”

“It's not.” The Keeper took a step forward and stroked a hand over his upper arm comfortingly, feeling his warmth through the fabric of his sleeve. “It's something that bothers you, so it isn't ridiculous.”

Placing a hand over theirs, Ominis sighed once more. “I just don't want others to think I'm... flaunting my heritage.”

“Anyone who would think that is a bloody idiot, and should they dare say it, I shall throw the bugger into the Black Lake.” Sebastian spat, frustration palpable in his demeanour, and the Keeper worried for a moment that Ominis might mistake that as frustration towards him, when they were fairly certain it was directed at the fools whose meaningless and empty opinions bothered his lover so.

“Think you'd have to throw half of Hogwarts into the lake then, my dear.” Ominis scoffed bitterly and Sebastian visibly paused, uncertain of how to respond. A wise reticence, since both agreeing and disagreeing with that statement would doubtless come with its own problems.

Well, at least Ominis didn't seem to have misunderstood. The Keeper pressed their lips together, carefully considering their approach to this issue.

“While that may be true, Ominis, my love.” They began cautiously. “I think you already know that you can't change what other people think of you, if they don't bother to actually think about what your actions say about you.”

Ominis’ brows creased, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, a deep pain painted across his face, his voice coming out choked and shaky. “I know. Believe me, I know all too well.”

The twin snakes, coiled around his neck, hissed softly and nuzzled at his jaw, bumping the flat tops of their heads against his chin, likely in response to his distress.

“And that's not your fault.” The Keeper gripped his upper arm firmly. “There will ever be people who refuse to see you for the way you present yourself, for the way you are. There are those who call Sirona a man. Those who call me a mudblood orphan, as though that were my entire identity, and all they ever need know about me.”

“We can't change these people's minds.” Their eyes hardened, along with their voice. “But we can decide that their opinions don't matter, and forbid them from restraining us. Those people are fools and arseholes. All we can do is present ourselves the way we are. Knowing both that it is truth, and that those we love know it too.”

“That's right, or do you mean to say that you value the opinion of some random unknown third year pureblood from Ravenclaw more than your own lovers?” Sebastian prodded their boyfriend in the other arm. “Anyone with half a brain in their skull can see that you're nothing like your family, we were right bastards to Natty and Poppy for a whole year and they still came around.”

Sebastian gave an offended huff, folding his arms petulantly. “You even like Poppy more than me now!”

A wry smile worked its way across Ominis’ lips, softening his features. “I do not like Poppy more than you.”

“Says the one who got his knickers in a bunch over saying ‘no’ to her. You say ‘no’ to me all the time.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

“I- you- No, Sebastian, I do not.” Ominis spluttered, the corners of his eyes crinkling with mirth.

“You just did!” Sebastian exclaimed with exaggerated disbelief.

Ominis opened his mouth, conceivably to retort, when Mira hissed something at him, lifting her head to boop her snout against his cheek, and he paused to gently push her head down with a sigh, hissing something back in return.

The sound of which was somewhere between really hot and really cute, and extremely distracting, and the Keeper had to forcefully pull their brain back to the present, when he switched back to English. To their relief and disappointment.

“Look, I hear what you're saying and you’re both right, I just... it still hurts anyway.” Ominis admitted, his expression almost ashamed and very much frustrated.

“Of course it does. None of those facts, or personal decision, would make it hurt any less to be rejected and invalidated. To be treated like a liar.” The Keeper shook their head. “So, it's perfectly reasonable to be hurt, it is hurtful. I just think that while we can cry about it, we shouldn't let it stop us from doing what we want to.”

Ominis blinked, seeming to be caught off guard by that response.

“If you don't wish to bring the twins to Hogwarts because of concerns for their safety, or because you find it bothersome, I'd consider those worthy reasons to leave them behind.” The Keeper elaborated, gripping his arm tighter to emphasise their point. “But if you do want to bring the girls, and the only reason you're stopping yourself, is because you don't want others to judge you. Then I don't think there's any reason to leave them here.”

A deep sigh left Ominis’ lips. “I suppose I can see how it would be unhealthy for me to act based on others’ opinions, but I really would rather not draw attention for actions that stand out. Is it not also beneficial to reduce the discomfort I must endure on a daily basis?”

Ominis turned his face away as he spoke and the Keeper touched their fingers to his cheek, turning it back towards them with a soft smile.

“Well, if the premise is not ‘I can't do what I want because others will judge me’, but instead, ‘how can I do what I want without others judging me’, that's a different story altogether, Isn't it?” The Keeper chuckled.

“One that we can help with!” Sebastian grinned broadly.

With yet another resigned sigh, Ominis finally cracked a proper smile. “I guess it wouldn't be so bad if I just hide them.”

“It's not that hard either, I think it wouldn't be difficult to carry them around in your satchel, they can lounge atop your books.” Sebastian shrugged, pausing for a moment, before adding. “Might have to put a cushion in it, so they can be comfortable and avoid getting injured, if things get knocked about.”

“We can cast a warming charm on the bag, so they don't get cold too.” The Keeper nodded.

“They were hoping to see the outside world, so I suppose we could sew a pocket along the side for them to rest in...” Ominis hummed thoughtfully, seeming to have come around, and was giving the concept some serious consideration.

“And a little peephole for them to look out through.” Sebastian snickered. “Or two.”

“Are you sure they wouldn't be spotted?” Ominis asked doubtfully, and the Keeper wondered if he feared that Sebastian was overstating the ease with which the twins would remain hidden.

“Even if their eyes caught the light, people might assume there was something reflective inside your bag.” The Keeper patted Ominis’ shoulder reassuringly.

Sebastian perked up at their words. “Oh, we could place a glass dome over the peepholes, to give the illusion of, perhaps, an enchanted eye decoration on the bag.”

“That could work.” Ominis’ eyes lit up with a glimmer of mischief. “I could say that they're enchanted to vanish from the sight of those keeping secrets from me, should someone remark that the eyes aren't there.”

“Ha! Clever.” Sebastian laughed.

“It'll be autumn soon too, weather'll be cool enough for you to wear the scarf I bought, you can also hide the girls underneath it if you feel so inclined.” The Keeper added, and was pleased to see Ominis smile at the reminder. It was also good to see that he didn't appear to be subjecting himself to vilification over the memory of that time period.

“That's true.” Ominis nodded, giving Kira's head a gentle pat when she nuzzled against his jaw, shamelessly asking for attention. “And we'll probably need to set up an aquarium for the girls in the Slytherin dorm.”

The Keeper nodded. “I can ask Deek to help with arranging that.”

“Convenient that you have a school elf in your pocket too.” Sebastian chuckled. “How'd that even happen?”

“Can’t take credit for that one, Professor Weasley introduced us, and to be fair, his loyalty is first and foremost to her, but he's been more than willing to extend additional aid to me, since I did a favour or two for him.” The Keeper shrugged. “I wouldn't ask him for anything unlawful since I'm sure he tattles to Weasley, but requests like these are fine.”

“I suppose then, all that remains is to prepare the aquarium before we return to school.” Ominis murmured thoughtfully.

“Four days is more than enough time, I'd say.” Sebastian leaned back against the stair railings. “Somehow, it almost feels surreal, knowing that we're starting our last year of Hogwarts so soon.”

“Indeed... I feel like we’ve accomplished quite a lot over these holidays.” Ominis smiled, stroking his fingers lightly along Kira's snout while Mira flicked her tongue against his wrist. “Didn't think I'd manage to prepare two of the four vivariums before school even started.”

“You did really well with them, housing animals in the first vivarium has alleviated our financial burden significantly and done much for our sustainability.” The Keeper took him by the hand and tugged him along with them as they walked down the stairs, Sebastian following behind them.

The first vivarium now housed a small coop with three pairs of Western Capercaillie that produced eggs for them, four cattle cows for milk, and three pairs of mountain hares that they hoped would breed and provide a source of meat.

Ideally, the farm animals would buy them time to find something more sustainable during the school year. Though the Keeper certainly wasn't looking forward to how busy they were about to become, studying for their NEWTs while working to secure more funds, they couldn't afford to take up too many time-consuming tasks.

“That reminds me.” The Keeper began as they reached the ground floor and made their way across the dining room, towards the empty frame of the front door. “I received a letter from the headmaster.”

“Oh? Whatever would Professor Black mail you for?” Ominis asked with a bewildered expression.

The Keeper chuckled wryly. “Apparently I was nominated to be one of the Head Prefects and he wanted to give me the opportunity to decline the position if I so wished.”

“Well.” Ominis hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose it isn't quite so surprising. Seeing as, despite not having been made prefect in Fifth year as it was your first year in Hogwarts, you have performed noticeably well, and the professors might have noticed that the student body tends to approach you for assistance.”

“Perhaps the teachers aren't aware of the exact nature of those requests.” Sebastian snickered.

“Indeed.” Ominis grimaced. “I'm surprised that he would even entertain the possibility, however, considering...”

“That I'm a mudblood?” The Keeper finished his sentence for him with a sardonic grin. “You're quite right, he made it fairly clear that he would rather not have someone like me in the position of Head Boy or Head Girl.”

“Rude.” Sebastian frowned, following them out of the building and into the courtyard.

“Well, he didn't say it explicitly, but he made gestures towards my ‘lack of experience within the magical world’ and expressed concerns that an orphan wouldn't be able to perform the duty of role model, or adviser, for students with family.” The Keeper recounted dryly as they set on the path to the greenhouses.

The three of them made their way slowly across the field, blanketed as it was, by a carpet of soft green clovers, and littered with little red buds on the cusp of blooming into tiny yellow flowers.

Ominis heaved an almost disappointed sigh. “I apologise on his behalf. Professor Black is of the more direct and honest breed of pureblood supremacist. It might seem like a bad thing, when he behaves this way, but it's better, I feel, than those who feign courtesy.”

“I'll take your word for it.” The Keeper shrugged, giving his hand a light squeeze. “And it's quite alright. I plan to acquiesce to his pleas and reject the position anyways.”

Ominis frowned. “Hang on, I thought we weren’t going to let other people’s opinions define us?”

The Keeper laughed, shaking their head, and raising a hand. “Oh, no. I’m definitely not agreeing with him, I simply don't care to assist other students for free, and I've already got far too much on my plate to take on Prefect duties. The sheer amount of time and effort needed for them practically amount to charity.”

“Just as well, I suppose.” Sebastian's voice was slightly morose. “We still haven't found Anne either, and widening the scope of our search will take an exponential amount of time too.”

“At least it'll be easier when we've gotten our apparition licences in January.” The Keeper smiled, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair affectionately.

“Well, it is a practical class.” Sebastian gave a strained chuckle, taking their hand from his head and lacing their fingers together instead, seeming to be perfectly content leaving his hair sticking up in all directions. “If our homework was any indication of the written assignments we'll have this year, I'll be glad to take a break from theory and learn a new skill.”

“I’m just glad you actually finished said homework this time.” Ominis made that passing jab with a playful tone, releasing the Keeper’s hand to open the door to the greenhouse, and began making his way towards the twins’ nest.

“Oh, come on, that was years ago.” Sebastian grumbled, following the blond inside with the Keeper.

With a dry chuckle, the Keeper smirked. “If anything, I'd say it’s more surprising that Selwyn survived the summer break.”

“No kidding.” Sebastian quickly jumped on the opportunity to change the subject, hopping onto one of the stools and resting an elbow on the counter. “Pity we couldn't find a way to meld liquid Fear with complete Pain energy.”

“Well, Isidora did say that goblin silver is the best receptacle to house these energies, I imagine we’ll need to use a cauldron made of that material instead.” The Keeper sighed, leaning against the counter beside him.

They'd tried everything they could think of. Shielding the lip of the cauldron had only caused the resulting shockwave to shatter said cauldron, sending the energies flying in opposite directions as they clashed violently, and leaving a room full of shards in its wake.

Wrapping the entire cauldron in a tight spherical shield had garnered similar results, though with slightly less cleanup required afterwards, as the cauldron itself was dissolved into powder, pooling in the base of the shield. Thus, rendering it impossible to mend with Reparo, and they'd ended up needing to purchase a replacement.

“Merlin knows we can't afford that right now, so we'll have to hold off on that pursuit.” Sebastian echoed their sigh, gazing at Ominis, who was deep in conversation with the twin snakes, likely explaining their plan to the curious girls.

“Starting to feel like an adult yet?” The Keeper chuckled, bumping shoulders with Sebastian.

“Yes, and I'd like to unfeel it, thanks.” Sebastian snorted, a few seconds passing before his gaze returned to them, continuing with a small smile. “Though, I'm glad to be feeling it with you. I think... it’d probably be a lot scarier without you and Ominis.”

The Keeper returned his smile with one of their own, leaning forward to place a sweet kiss against the corner of his mouth. Feeling that now familiar warmth bloom in their chest as he pressed back against them softly, shifting his lips to capture theirs more firmly, his hands tugging them closer, and wrapping around their waist.

“Salazar save me, I step away for three minutes and you two horny buggers are at it again.” Ominis’ exasperated voice came accompanied by the sound of his footsteps approaching.

Parting their lips from Sebastian's, the Keeper reached a hand out to fist in Ominis’ shirt and pulled him closer with a smirk. “Darling, if you wanted to join us, you needn’t wait for an invitation.”

Ominis’ fair cheeks flushed a rosy pink as they stole his next breath, the sound of Sebastian's deep chuckles by their ear as they leaned back against him, basking in his embrace and the comfortable warmth of their lovers’ closeness.

...they were definitely going to miss this.

“You’re here!” The sound of Poppy's voice preceded a slim pair of arms wrapping around them from the side, and the Keeper fought to restrain the instinct to rip those arms from their shoulders and throw her to the floor by reflex.

“Hello, Poppy.” They greeted instead, forcing themselves not to stiffen too obviously in her embrace, lest they make things uncomfortable.

“It's wonderful to see you again!” Poppy beamed as she withdrew. “How has your holiday been?”

“Enjoyable.” The Keeper replied and she gave a wry smile at the typical curt response.

“It's lovely to see you again, Poppy.” Ominis greeted with a warm smile as he stepped in from behind them and, to the Keeper's surprise, she immediately embraced him as well.

“Ominis!” Poppy exclaimed as she hung from his shoulders, almost louder than before, her enthusiasm nearly knocking him to the floor from shock.

“Y- yes?” Ominis blinked in confusion, looking adorably dazed and the Keeper chuckled in amusement. Clearly, he wasn't accustomed to anyone besides Sebastian doing that. Well, he'd better get used to it, once Poppy got past her shyness, she could be aggressively affectionate.

They'd seen it with beasts often enough and they had to admit, despite being unaccustomed to receiving such aggressive affection, it was nice to know that Poppy was more relaxed around them now. A humming anxiety absent from her, that they hadn't even realised was there untill it was gone.

Somehow, she now felt more... real? Or perhaps open.

“How have you been? You must tell me how the vivariums are coming along!” Poppy gushed, looking excited as a child might.

“Of course.” Ominis smiled, looking so very happy that the Keeper just couldn’t quite bring themselves to glare at her, till she finally released their lover.

Next entered Sebastian, and having witnessed Poppy's greetings, he braced himself for a hug as well, only for her to smile and wave. “Hello, Sebastian!”

“Wha- no hug for me?” Sebastian blurted out in surprise.

She immediately flushed. “Um, sorry, I guess I don't feel close enough to you yet?”

“Damn, guess I'd have to write over the holidays too.” Sebastian muttered, scratching at his head. “Can't say I want to do more writing though, homework was tedious enough.”

“Hey guys!” Garreth's voice was quickly followed by him joining them at a light jog. “How've you lot been then?”

“Garreth!” Poppy beamed and gave him a small wave as well.

Immediately, Sebastian jabbed a finger at the newcomer with a victorious grin. “Ha! She didn't hug you either!”

Garreth blinked at his finger for a moment before frowning, and then grinning as well. “Oh yeah? Well, that means you didn't get one.”

Sebastian blanched, giving him a sulky glare, while Garreth laughed, and the Keeper shook their head with a smile.

“Sometimes I feel like the two of you should exchange houses.” Ominis sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“Absolutely not!” Sebastian protested, while Garreth grinned and answered at the same time with an easy-going. “Sure.”

“Hey!” Sebastian snapped. “You're not supposed to agree!”

“Do you snore Garreth?” Ominis asked with a critical expression on his face, and Sebastian's instantly warped into one of abject betrayal.

“Nope!” Garreth's grin widened, causing Sebastian to visibly wilt.

“Hmm.” Ominis hummed, seemingly in consideration, before smiling and shaking his head. “Well, too bad, I’ve long since gotten used to Sebastian's snoring. I imagine I'd feel weird in its absence.”

Sebastian's eyes became suspiciously shiny as he stared at Ominis, clearly fighting against the urge to jump on the blond.

“Isn't that nice.” The Keeper smiled, patting Sebastian's shoulder helpfully, and he gave a curt but unmistakably happy nod.

“Well, of course.” Ominis lifted his chin and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, his cheeks slightly pink and Poppy giggled at the sight.

“Ugh, get a room.” Garreth stuck his tongue out in a juvenile gesture.

“Already in one.” Sebastian replied, his tone snapping back to the cocky manner with which he would often affect in public, within a split second, raising an eyebrow at the redhead and folding his arms imperiously.

“One without me in it.” Garreth wrinkled his nose.

“Then get out.” Sebastian countered.

“Well, I want dinner!” Garreth shot back.

“And I don't see how that's my problem!” Sebastian lifted his chin.

“But, dinner is here!”

“Then, go eat in the kitchens!”

“Poppy!” To everyone's surprise, this time it was Poppy who was being hugged, and by Natty no less, who'd apparently slipped into the great hall at some point, with Amit trailing in after her.

“Natty!” Poppy's face lit up, a surprised laugh bubbling from her chest and her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. “I thought you said you wouldn't be able to join us for dinner?”

“Oh, the meeting with Professor Sharp didn't take as long as I’d expected. He ended up just giving me some old cases to look at in my free time over the week.” Natty chuckled, leaning back slightly as she spoke and loosening her embrace.

“I take it he agreed to mentor you in Auror training?” The Keeper asked with a small smile.

“Indeed, he did.” Natty gave them a firm nod, her eyes gleaming with pride.

“Congratulations, I wish you well in your mentorship.” Ominis gave her a polite tip of the head, and the Keeper had to stifle their amusement at how posh he sounded right there.

“Good on you, mate!” Garreth crowed as he clapped Natty on the back with a wide grin, seemingly ignorant of the eyebrow she raised in his direction. “I'm sure the Gryff with the stones to go up against Harlow will get in, no sweat.”

“Yes, I too believe that she will, however, I wouldn’t count on her helping you get away with any mischief you get up to in the future.” Amit commented dryly, levelling the redhead with a flat stare.

“Wha- are you implying that I would abuse my close, personal, and deep friendship with our lovely Natty over here to escape the law?” Garreth gasped, holding a hand over his heart dramatically.

“Of course I'm not implying that.” Amit folded his arms. “I'm stating it.”

There was a long pause, before Garreth flashed a bright grin and clasped his hands together. “So, who's hungry?”

Natty snorted and Amit rolled his eyes, while the others chuckled quietly in the background.

“Well, the sorting ceremony will begin soon, so we might as well get seated.” Poppy suggested, glancing at Natty with a small smile. “Pity we can't sit together.”

“It's just for the feast, we can spend time together tomorrow.” Natty gave her a light pat on the shoulder.

“Then, we'll see you guys in class.” The Keeper quickly turned towards the Slytherin table.

The last thing they wanted was to be invited to a group breakfast tomorrow. They liked having their meals with their boyfriends in some semblance of privacy, thank you very much. Already they missed sharing a bed with their boys and they hadn't even had their first solitary night in Hogwarts yet.

“Till tomorrow.” Ominis gave the others a polite nod before following, as did Sebastian, with a casual backhanded wave.

“What are the chances that they'll want to hang out this weekend?” Sebastian asked as the three made their way to the other end of the Slytherin table, which was unanimously designated as the seventh-year's section.

“Moderate.” The Keeper replied distractedly, their expression and stride not changing in the slightest as a younger Slytherin girl, sitting along the bench just ahead, subtly raised a small envelope bearing the letters HS behind her back.

Easily plucking the envelope from her fingers as they walked past, the Keeper slipped it under the baggy sleeve of their school robes to read later. Probably another errand, and likely something a little less on the school appropriate side, if she was being covert instead of approaching them personally in the common room or sending an owl.

Well, money was money and their home needed it. They did find it mildly amusing that the nickname ‘Hogwarts Salamander’ had stuck hard enough for people to start addressing letters to them with it.

“I think I wouldn't mind that, to be honest.” Ominis hummed, absently taking Sebastian's offered hand for stability as he lifted his leg over the bench. Which appeared so akin to a knight offering a hand to his Lord or Lady, that the Keeper couldn't help but smile, as they took a seat on the other side of Ominis.

“I suppose we could, school has just started. It'd be a good opportunity to ask Natty for guidance in wandless magic too.” The Keeper nodded, beginning to pour a cup of tea for Ominis and idly wondering if that made them his servant, when the doors to the great hall opened to admit a long train of short children.

The sorting ceremony proceeded as it had last year and the Keeper began to mentally slip into planning mode to pass the time, listening to the staggered recitation of names from Professor Weasley and Houses from the sorting hat.

“...bus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

“That's one hell of a long name.” Sebastian commented dryly, before blinking in surprise when there followed a palpable ripple amongst the student body.

The Keeper raised their head at the murmurs and, following the gazes of the students towards the podium, asked in confusion. “Hm? Did I miss something?”

Ominis frowned from across the table. “Albus Dumbledore's being sorted.”

“Dumbledore?” The Keeper's eyebrows rose. “Isn’t that also the surname of that muggle killer? Guess that makes this kid the man's son.”

“Muggle killer?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“Percival Dumbledore, arrested for murdering three muggle boys after torturing them with the Cruciatus curse. He was in the Daily Prophet a few months ago, seems he passed away in Azkaban.” The Keeper explained, giving him a wry smile. “You really should read the papers, lo-”

The Keeper cut themselves off with a cough and Sebastian grinned at them in amusement.

“Yet another muggle hating supremacist, I imagine.” Ominis sighed, his lips twisted in a disgusted grimace. “Even my family didn’t target children for their amusement.”

The Keeper reached out to give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, but froze when the sorting hat, sitting atop the auburn hair of the young Albus Dumbledore, declared in a gravelly shout. “Gryffindor!”

The hall was silent and still for several seconds, before the Gryffindor table began its applause, though it was noticeably muted compared to its usual rigour. The young boy's expression was rather steely and resolved compared to the other eleven-year-olds, though they could easily imagine why.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Ominis murmured, his expression intrigued.

The Keeper allowed their hand to complete its course, placing it on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “Perhaps another apple that fell far from its tree.”

A smile curled his lips and Ominis gave a slight nod. “That would be nice, even if being a Gryffindor doesn’t necessarily make him different from his father.”

The Keeper tipped their head in concession. “Well, odds are good at the very least, don’t think I know of any muggle haters from that house.”

“Could always do with fewer arseholes.” Sebastian shrugged. “Though his housemates didn't seem too pleased bout his sorting.”

“Hopefully it won't be too difficult for him to settle in.” Ominis hummed. “Perhaps I shall keep an ear out for him.”

“Not much we can do even if he does get bullied by them. We can’t exactly force his peers to like him.” The Keeper cautioned.

“While that may be true, I think it helps some, to have people express sympathy and offer support.” Ominis smiled, his eyes soft and warm. “Even if they can't change the grim reality.”

“I'm glad you think so.” The Keeper gave a pleased nod, gratified that his outlook was becoming more mature, more at peace with himself, catching yet another glimpse of that powerful man he was growing into.

Ugh, this school term was going to be awful, unable to use pet names, unable to grab Ominis by the lapels and kiss him silly whenever the urge struck them. The Keeper resisted the itch to slam their face into the table in frustration, rubbing it with a hand instead as the remaining first-years were sorted.

As the last stubby kid scampered off to the Ravenclaw table, Professor Black stepped up to the podium to make his usual announcements.

“Now, I'm sure this won't immediately result in an onslaught of injuries.” The headmaster's voice was thick with sarcasm. “But, at the relentless behest of many Professors and students, after a two-year hiatus, Quidditch will be reinstated this year.”

Almost immediately, the noise levels in the hall shot up by a mile, filling the large space with whoops and cheers.

Black's lips thinned in response, and he snapped irritably at the students. “Now, now, settle down! I'm sure you're all very eager to return to that deadly sport, but I caution all of you to abide by the new rules and safety regulations implemented to prevent injuries like those of before. The infirmary can only hold so many suicidal children.”

The Keeper held in a snort when, as expected, Imelda and the other members of Slytherin's Quidditch team, as well as fans of the sport, merely continued their excited discussions.

“Remember that your priority as students still remains your academic futures!” The headmaster tried, raising his voice to be heard over the din, but when the commotion continued with no signs of abating, he sighed, electing to simply return to the professors’ table with an air of resignation.

“Hey.” The Keeper was mildly surprised when Imelda called their name from across the table. “We've got a few positions open if you're interested, you should come to the try-outs. We could do with a flyer like you.”

“I don't doubt you'd love to give me orders, Captain.” The Keeper smirked. “Sadly, I take orders from no one.”

Imelda shot them a glare, kissing her teeth irritably. “And you, Sallow?”

“No thanks, not interested in a game with shit rules.” Sebastian shook his head as he busied himself filling his plate. “Whoever came up with the position of Seeker needs a Quaffle to the head, it completely breaks the game.”

“Ugh, why are my year mates all bloody nerds?” Imelda grumbled, casting a disdainful glance at Grace Pinch-Smedley before returning her attention to her teammates.

“Did you really have to turn her down so abrasively?” Ominis sighed, tilting his head towards the Keeper as he reached across them for the soup ladle. “You know she respects you a great deal, especially after you beat all her records in Fifth year.”

“Course she does.” Sebastian quipped with a smug grin. “Don't need to play Quidditch to know they're a Keeper.”

The Keeper snorted in amusement, taking the ladle before Ominis could, and dishing out a portion of the soup into a bowl as they spoke. “Like I told Imelda after our first race, I don't want her respect. She lost mine when she picked a fight with me without provocation. While it was enjoyable to trounce her on her own turf, I have no patience for her kind outside of competition.”

“Ah, so you don't respect her, but you do like racing her.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them and took a bite of his turkey.

The Keeper offered the bowl of soup to Ominis before beginning to fill one for themselves. “Correct. Her competitive posturing, and loose tongue, come from the entitled belief that she won't get a stab in the neck in retaliation for her behaviour. Wouldn't last a day on the streets.”

“Not everyone is as ironclad as you, she just comes off strongly because she's passionate.” Ominis’ tone was reproachful, pausing for a second before adding. “Like Natty.”

The Keeper shook their head and took a sip of their own soup before replying. “That comparison isn't sound. Natty acts on her morals where Imelda simply wishes to win. Natty desires not recognition, but penance. Two vastly different motivations.”

“Yet even you yourself can come across as offensively indifferent, surely Imelda shouldn't be snubbed just because her pride is as large as Sebastian's and more easily threatened.” Ominis retorted dryly as he took a sip of his soup.

“Really?” Sebastian gave him a flat stare. One that quickly became distracted as a drop of creamy soup escaped the corner of Ominis’ lip, before the blond dabbed it clean with a serviette.

“I'm not snubbing her, I'm just not impressed.” The Keeper chuckled. “She's not significant enough to be anything more than mildly amusing, in her pursuit of clout, and I can't be bothered to expend mental energy on her.”

Ominis grimaced and the Keeper's smile became knowing as they continued. “Surely you're not suggesting that there is benefit in propping up her childish need for acclaim? You're letting your pity overcome your better judgement, Ominis. We both know that nothing I give her will satisfy her, that's something that needs to come from herself.”

Heaving a deep sigh, Ominis pushed the carrots around on his plate. “I just think she might be a little less defensive if she got some affirmation from someone she respects.”

“That's not something affirmation alone can provide. Her skill in flying is not the issue here. She seems to believe that she can drive a team forward with brute force and any affirmation I give her will reinforce that.” The Keeper shook their head. “She needs to learn that skill alone will not earn her respect. There will always be someone better than her and she needs to figure out how to handle that.”

The Keeper's eyes lowered, thinking back to their youth, one of the lessons they'd been forced to learn quickly.

“Working with people you despise, people you feel threatened by, is a skill of its own and she will have to learn it if she wants to join a professional Quidditch team.” The Keeper sighed. “She must either learn how to work with people she doesn't respect, or give up on her goal of joining the Holly Harpies.”

“Emotional self-control, in other words.” Sebastian flashed a wry smile. “Not exactly an easy skill to master.”

“You would know.” Ominis chuckled, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes.

“As would you.” Sebastian countered.

“I suppose I can't deny that.” Ominis granted.

“Not exactly winning first place here with my addiction either.” The Keeper quipped, taking the chance to actually eat their food, since they'd been speaking over much.

“I still feel that having one's confidence bolstered will ultimately improve their control.” Ominis began. “But, I will concede that you are perhaps not the person to do so for her. It'd have to be someone who actually likes her, rather than one who merely acknowledges her skill.”

“Bit of a circular conundrum, isn't it? She needs confidence to control her defensive impulses, but she needs that control to acquire people to bolster her confidence.” Sebastian hummed ironically.

“Always has to start somewhere. Experience and success are good building blocks, but she herself must want to change. At least she has the benefit of actually being good at flying, so I don't doubt she'll manage, in time.” The Keeper shrugged. “Achievement and security lend a person the leeway to be gracious, instead of defensive. A confident person can afford to after all.”

“Does that mean you aren't confident then?” Ominis teased.

“Not quite.” The Keeper flashed a sharp grin. “I just like getting under people’s skin.”

They raised their cup to take a drink from it, and Ominis sighed, leaning his elbow against the table. “Yes, that does sound like you.”

“Really? Thought it was our clothes you liked getting under.” Sebastian smirked, jabbing a thumb towards Ominis and himself.

The Keeper promptly choked on their tea, wheezing and hacking through their laughter, while Ominis flushed and hit the brunet on the shoulder.

“Sebastian!”

Chapter Text

“Can't believe the Repository used to be just down the hall from the Alchemy classroom.” Sebastian shook his head as he followed the Keeper down the long spiral stairs and into a dimly lit rotunda. Its pillars were covered in moss and water pooled in the grooves between the stone tiles lining the floor.

“Hogwarts probably has many such secrets hidden out in the open.” The Keeper mused as they came to a stop upon the round dais in the centre of the rotunda. “The Scriptorium led out right in front of our dorms after all.”

“Yes... and this certainly feels Ancient, rather beautiful too.” Sebastian murmured, gazing up at the blue and green stained glass on the ceiling, soft ethereal light streaming into the room.

With a fond smile, the Keeper took his hand and pulled him a few steps to the left, before, in response to his questioning look, releasing a pulse of Ancient Magic into the dais.

A moment later, the floor he'd just been standing on, slid aside to reveal yet another spiral staircase leading further down.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose. “Well, that could have ended poorly.”

“Not on my watch.” The Keeper chuckled, leading the way down the stairs as before.

“Whatever would I do without my guardian.” He sighed dramatically and began trailing after them with a small smirk.

Ducking under the occasional hanging curtain of moss, the Keeper descended the stone stairs as they spoke. “The portraits will be lined up on the wall.”

“From the left, Professor Niamh Fitzgerald, a former headmistress of Hogwarts, Professor Charles Rookwood, Professor Percival Rackham, and lastly, Professor San Bakar.” Their voice echoed up and down the walls, and they soon left the stairwell with Sebastian in tow, entering the corridor that led to the Map Chamber.

“Now that is one hell of a door.” Sebastian commented in a bemused tone, marvelling at the large blue door and its intricate golden moulding.

“Wait till you see the inside.” The Keeper gave a weak chuckle, placing a hand against the symbol for Ancient Magic in the centre of the door, feeling its warmth and seeing it glow in response to their own magic, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Sebastian placed a hand on their shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Hey, it'll work out. You'll win them over, I know it.”

The Keeper sighed, Sebastian had always been oddly optimistic about the Elder Keepers. Perhaps caught up in the idea that people who possessed rare and hidden knowledge or abilities couldn't possibly be unreasonably afraid of said knowledge and power, in the way that people who didn't, feared the unknown.

Unfortunately, they were rather certain that being a minority didn't necessarily make a person open-minded or accepting of things commonly regarded as unnatural.

“I hope so.” The Keeper placed their hand over his, giving him a tight smile, before turning back to face the doors, pushing them open and striding through.

“Ah, our young friend returns.” Professor Rackham greeted as they stepped into the chamber, their shoes clattering along the polished tile.

Sweeping their gaze across the four portraits, the Keeper passed the podium where the book on Ancient Magic still lay and began down the stairs. The Elder Keepers were all present, good.

Behind them, they could hear Sebastian's awe filled breath as he took in the majestic chamber and the pool of stars that once again covered the floor in the middle of the room, hiding the entrance to the secret caverns below Hogwarts.

“After two years.” Professor Bakar added dryly, his narrow eyes observing them with thinly veiled suspicion.

“Indeed, we have spent much of that time wondering why you did not return.” Rackham frowned as the two came to a stop before his portrait. “It is only thanks to Professor Fitzgerald that we are aware of the aftermath of Ranrok's attack.”

“It was a relief to hear that you succeeded in preventing Ranrok from acquiring the Repository.” The former headmistress’ eyes then softened with sympathy. “And I heard what happened to Professor Fig. I'm sorry, his loss must have been difficult for you.”

The Keeper bowed their head. “Thank you, Professor, and I am sorry that it took me some time to return.”

“And who is your friend?” Professor Rookwood asked, giving Sebastian a curious look.

“This is Sebastian Sallow, my partner.” The Keeper waved a hand towards the brunet. “He was of great aid to me during those difficult events, as well as after. And I have kept no secrets from him.”

“It's an honour to meet the Keepers I've heard so much about, at long last.” Sebastian politely greeted.

“And you are certain he can be trusted?” Bakar asked pointedly.

The Keeper bristled internally but kept their expression and tone even as they replied. “With all due respect, Professor Bakar. I doubt Professor Rackham would have been able to protect the Repository all on his lonesome. So, I don't see why I should be expected to do so. I trust Sebastian with my life.”

“Quite right indeed, you must forgive our wariness, one can never be too careful when guarding such dangerous magic.” Rackham chuckled, holding his hands up in a placating fashion.

“It's quite alright, Professor. An understandable caution.” Sebastian tipped his head graciously.

“Now, tell us, my young friend, what has become of the Repository?” Rackham smiled, returning his attention to the Keeper. “We were relieved that Headmaster Black made no mention of it, indicating that you had succeeded in keeping it hidden, but I must confess that we were concerned nonetheless, at your extended absence.”

“I have moved it to another hidden room in Hogwarts for the time being, while I construct a fortress to defend it, with the aid of Sebastian and our other partner, Ominis Gaunt.” The Keeper answered.

“Gaunt?” Fitzgerald blinked in surprise. “A descendant of Slytherin?”

“You needn't fear on that score, Professors.” Sebastian raised his hands reassuringly when the portraits took on varying expressions of concern. “Ominis is markedly lacking in ambition or interest in Dark Arts, despite being a Slytherin.”

Unlike us. The Keeper commented internally, mildly amused that, once again, it was Ominis who drew an automatic wariness from others. It could almost be likened to camouflage at this point, having Ominis around just naturally diverted suspicion from Sebastian and themselves by sheer contrast.

“Is he blind by any chance? I believe I've seen the young man in Professor Black's office for tea, once or twice.” Fitzgerald asked curiously.

“Yes, he is.” It was now the Keeper’s turn to blink in surprise. Then again, Ominis did say that his father was friends with the headmaster. Perhaps that ran a little deeper than they'd expected.

“I suppose we shall simply have to trust your judgement and hope that it runs true.” Rackham tipped his head concedingly. “So, a fortress, you say? From scratch?”

“Correct, I purchased a sizable plot of land by the ocean and the site I chose is quite secluded by the terrain itself.” The Keeper nodded, pride leaking into their tone despite themselves. “The fortress’ structure is almost complete.”

“Within two years? Surely there is more to it than that.” Professor Bakar gave them a tight smile. “I doubt that three students could hope to build a fortress more secure than Hogwarts itself. Or are there other reasons for your confidence?”

Here it was. The moment of truth.

The Keeper took a deep breath. “I've been using Isidora’s Pain energy, from the Repository, to supplement my magic.”

“No.” Rackham breathed, taking a step back in his portrait, while Fitzgerald gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

“Please tell me you jest.” Rookwood's eyes were wide with shock.

“I knew it.” Bakar glared at them. “I saw it in your eyes when you expressed fascination with her abilities.”

“Why would you do this?” Rackham shook his head, his expression absolutely distraught and his tone almost pleading. “After everything we’ve shown you, after everything you've seen!”

“Because it's useful.” The Keeper retorted. “It is nought but a waste to leave it in its cage, nor does it make any progress towards fixing the problem Isidora created.”

“Fixing!?” Rookwood exclaimed.

“Pain energy cannot be destroyed, it can only be spent.” The Keeper elaborated. “Like pain, it cannot be eliminated, it needs to return to a host, to be processed and healed, to receive closure. If we keep that energy caged up, it'll remain forever, waiting to be unleashed. If I consume and expend it slowly however, it'll gradually deplete until it is all gone.”

“We do not know what the long-term effects of taking it could be! You are meddling in something no human should ever touch.” Rookwood jabbed a finger at them.

“And we'll never know if no one has the courage to try!” Sebastian shot back irritably. “If we used that logic for everything, we'd never find solutions for problems that could be sitting right in the open!”

“Nothing good can come of robbing people of emotions!” Bakar scoffed.

“Oh really? Even if they're scumbags who wouldn't hesitate to hurt and kill innocents for their own pleasure?” Sebastian spat. “We use dementors in Azkaban, losing one's emotions is merciful by comparison.”

There was a brief pause as the portraits seemed to be thrown by Sebastian's statement and the Keeper took the opportunity to interject. Knowing that their boyfriend was getting worked up, likely as not, over how similar the Elder Keepers’ arguments sounded, to his uncle’s chiding and scorn.

“Sebastian.” The Keeper placed a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, let me handle this.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, giving them a nod, before taking a step back and allowing the Keeper to return their attention to the portraits.

“Look, it might be difficult to imagine, but with my partners’ assistance over the past two years, I've managed to find a regular dosage that doesn't seem to have negative side effects.” The Keeper explained. “And I think it's better to try to do something, than to wait for this power to fall into the hands of someone stupid enough to use it without caution. You’ve taught me that much at least.”

“The thought alone, that you could control such power, in and of itself, is a display of hubris.” Rackham frowned.

“Well, if I thought I could control it alone, then indeed as you say, it would be hubris.” The Keeper glanced at Sebastian. “But I'm not alone. Isidora was, and so was Ranrok. That's why they were consumed by it, and you would be fools to take the results of two near identical attempts to utilise Pain energy as universal law.”

“Even if we suppose that you are consuming it with the ultimate goal of disposal. When the Repository is depleted, do you truly believe that you could resist creating more of that energy to sate your need for it?” Bakar demanded. “Your partner here implied that you would see no problems extracting more Pain energy from those you deem unworthy of emotion.”

“Must all uses of pain extraction be selfish in nature as Isidora’s were?” The Keeper returned his question with another, gesturing towards Sebastian. “His twin sister, Anne, is dying from a pain curse, inflicted upon her by Victor Rookwood.”

“Every day of her life since the age of fourteen has been filled with pain, unable to sleep or even stand, let alone go to school or work. The healers doubt she will even make it to twenty.” A quick glance confirmed that Professor Rookwood had flinched at their account of what his descendant had done. Good.

“Just because darkness can be eliminated doesn't mean that it should, but what of something that both can and should?” The Keeper asked, turning their attention to Professor Fitzgerald, satisfied by the sight of her brows furrowed in thought. “Even if the original ideals and intent behind its inception were wrong, that doesn't discount the procedure by default.”

“Isidora may have invented this.” The Keeper narrowed their eyes, meeting Professor Rackham's gaze with steely resolve. “But I won't let that stop me from using it to right wrongs. Just as emotional pain must be healed by love, so too must magically inflicted pain be healed by magic.”

Their fellow Ancient Mage's eyes lowered, and the Keeper turned their gaze onto their last obstruction.

“Not everyone is what they seem, so too must you consider that your impression of my intent is flawed. Poisoned by your own experiences and biases.” The Keeper glared at Professor Bakar, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “The right to keep others in check, demands that you check yourself as well. Lest you become inconsistent and fall prey to the same mistakes once more.”

“The fact that I stand before you today should tell you that I am different from Isidora. I've been trying to perform an extraction without a loss of personality, with some success.” The Keeper fought to keep their voice firm and steadfast as they swept their gaze across the portraits. “And while I cannot know the consequences that will come of what I am manipulating, I am ready to pay for it regardless.”

“I give you my word, that if you choose to support me, I will hear all advice out to the end, before choosing to act on it or not. Withholding support will only result in your wisdom, experience, and perspective being wasted. You who know and understand the danger. The risk of failure rises when it falls to those who don't.” The Keeper finally ended their spiel. “Will you risk my failure?”

There was a long moment of silence.

Before Professor Rackham sighed, glancing to his left and right, surveying the contemplative expressions of the other Elder Keepers. “I think you've given us much to consider. We will need to confer amongst ourselves before we can come to a decision.”

“Of course.” The Keeper nodded, they'd expected as much, even though it was frustrating to have to wait, they could only hope that they'd been persuasive enough. “We will return tomorrow night, and I hope to hear your answers by then.”

Without waiting for affirmation, the Keeper turned to leave, and Sebastian followed them without prompt. The time limit was no suggestion, as the danger of the portraits taking actions against them was non-trivial, even if they were mere facsimiles.

The only reason they were giving the pieces of artwork a night to decide, was because the only portrait in a position to speak to someone, was Professor Fitzgerald, and they knew that she wouldn't risk the Repository falling into Professor Black's hands.

The former headmistress had also been the most sympathetic towards Isidora and had experienced a pain extraction that was insubstantial enough to escape a torn Aura. So, if any of the portraits were to consider the possibility of supporting the Keeper, it would likely be Professor Fitzgerald.

As they passed the podium holding the Ancient Magic tome, the Keeper's gaze lingered on it for a brief moment.

They really hoped the portraits, or at least Professor Rackham, would agree to support them. They hadn’t returned for the book before this point, as much of the information within its pages were too complex for them to understand without his guidance, and they’d known that they would require the results of their research to convince the portraits to ally themselves with the Keeper.

They had learnt as much as they could in the meantime, enough to do things like create rudimentary golems from clay, but if they wanted to create actual Guardians, like the ones they'd fought in the Trials, or bring Dìon castle to life, to the extent Hogwarts was, they'd need a teacher.

With a low rumble, the doors slipped shut behind them, and, as they walked down the corridor, towards the stairs, Sebastian cautiously asked. “Do you think they'll agree to join us?”

“They're coming with us, whether they agree to help us or not.” The Keeper replied as they climbed the stairs, shrugging offhandedly. “It's just a question of whether they'll be jailed individually in a room, or allowed some measure of freedom, perhaps mounted on the walls of the basement floors.”

They'd need to collect the portraits’ secondary frames as well tomorrow, after their Sunday noon lunch with Natty and the others. Hopefully it wouldn't drag on too long, even though it was their first weekend since term started.

If they recalled correctly, Rackham's second portrait was in San Bakar's Tower, Rookwood's was in the Rookwood Estate, Bakar's was in the cavern of the final Trial grounds and Fitzgerald's was in the headmaster's office. They probably wouldn't relocate Professor Fitzgerald's second portrait, if possible. After all, it would be useful to have a spy in the headmaster's office...

As the stairs sealed behind them, Sebastian sighed. “Sorry, about my outburst earlier.”

The Keeper paused and turned around to face him, placing a hand on the top of his head with a soft chuckle. “You have nothing to apologise for. I understand your frustration, and you were quite right besides.”

Sebastian gave a light huff, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against theirs with a smile. “I could get used to hearing that.”

“Should probably ration it. Can't go giving you a big head, now can I.” The Keeper purred, and he pouted adorably in response.

“Oh, my poor confidence, to have such stingy lovers.” Sebastian heaved a sigh of long-suffering woe.

“Come on, Sebastian. We both know you like the challenge of earning your praise.” The Keeper teased lightly.

Sebastian made a grumbly sound in the back of his throat. “Then you better praise me more when I surpass expectations.”

With that, he stifled the Keeper's quiet laughter with his lips.

“Hey guys! Sorry I'm late!” The sound of pattering feet rattled up the wooden floorboards of the Three Broomsticks and Poppy's head soon appeared above the stairs.

“It's alright, I ordered your usual chicken and ham platter for you.” Natty smiled, offering a butterbeer to her as the girl dropped into the open seat beside the Gryffindor, before casting a quick warming charm on the plate in front of her.

“Thanks!” Poppy beamed, accepting the offered mug, and taking a generous gulp from it.

“How was your first shift at Brood and Peck's?” The Keeper asked from across the table with a bemused smile, popping a roll of ham into their mouth.

“Surprisingly, it wasn't too different from what we do in Care, the beasts are pretty comfortable with humans, so harvesting was fairly easy.” Poppy gave a sheepish laugh as she started to cut up the chicken on her plate. “It was a bit tiring cleaning out the nests, but the brushing was quite fun.”

“At least you're enjoying your employment journey.” Natty chuckled wryly, idly pushing the last of her beans around on her plate. “The cases Sharp gave me are so frustrating to read. Even when the perpetrator is obvious, the process of getting the required evidence for a conviction is absolutely ridiculous.”

“Don't you just need to find evidence that the guy did it?” Garreth mumbled around his mouthful of carrots and Sebastian shot him a disgusted grimace from across the table.

“Apparently you also need a smart lawyer to pick the right charge. One guy got away with murdering his relative because a stupid lawyer tried to charge him with premeditated murder, but the Aurors couldn't get evidence of forethought .” Natty made quotes with her fingers on the last word. “Only that he'd committed the murder.”

“You can't be serious.” Amit stared at her aghast, lowering his spoonful of mashed potatoes back onto his plate.

“Sadly I am. They had to wait for the conclusion of the first attempted charge, before filing a new one, and the process ended up taking so much time that the bastard fled the country and escaped.” Natty shook her head. “Imagine being the Aurors who worked on that case, having all their effort wasted.”

“Imagine being the victim's loved ones.” The Keeper murmured, spotting Ominis stiffen out of the corner of their eye, and they squeezed his hand under the table, knowing that he was imagining how it'd feel if Solomon had killed Sebastian, or themselves, down in the catacombs.

“Can't believe something like that could go unpunished.” Poppy shook her head and Natty placed a hand on her shoulder.

“When I'm an Auror, I won't let such injustice occur.” Natty assured her confidently.

“Even if it breaks the laws to do so?” Sebastian asked and Natty seemed taken aback by the directness of his question.

“What do you mean?” She returned the question with a frown.

“Justice and law don't necessarily go together.” The Keeper shrugged, glancing at Sebastian, and wondering if, unlike them, he was instead seeing himself as the murderer in question. “He's asking which you prioritise.”

“I... I'm not sure.” Natty murmured. “The law exists to prevent chaos. Do not more people suffer without law and order?”

To the Keeper's surprise, it was Amit who spoke next, his expression unusually solemn. “The goblins don't really benefit from the law as it currently stands. I feel like the people in power have denied them much of their culture and even the most basic of protections.”

The Keeper nodded in agreement. “Indeed, disregarding their concept of trade is something I find quite despicable. Even though wizarding culture considers an item ‘owned’ after purchase, if the rules of the exchange, as set by the goblins, is for the item to be returned upon death, I feel it should be respected.”

Sebastian's expression was thoughtful for a moment. “Can't really blame them for calling it thievery when you put it that way. I thought their notions of ownership ridiculous, but even I'll admit that it’s kind of rude to just ignore their end of the deal and simply keep something they consider ‘rented out’.”

“Especially since our laws don't protect the goblins when humans break the contract and keep goblin crafted wares past death.” Amit nodded with a grimace. “Not much peace or order for them under the law.”

“Nor House Elves.” The Keeper muttered under their breath.

“I imagine the only reason laws like that exist are to serve the interests of the people who benefit from them, rather than the collective good.” Ominis sighed, looking quite despondent at the thought.

“In this regard, who's to say that all the spells designated as Dark Arts are in fact harmful, when the people in power are blatantly serving their own interests?” Sebastian suggested and immediately got a glare from Natty.

“I think that's a stretch.” Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Ominis who retorted instead. “A measure of critical thinking please. Just because some aspects of the law were not created for the greater good, doesn't discount the overall stability it provides.”

“Yeah, even if some of it is stupid, doesn't mean we drown the baby with the wash.” Garreth scoffed and rolled his eyes.

The group collectively paused for a moment, at his words, before Amit hesitantly spoke. “Um, Garreth, I think the phrase is ‘throw out the baby with the wash’.”

“Isn't it the same in the end?” Garreth shrugged whilst Amit levelled him with an appalled stare.

“I too agree with Ominis.” Natty shook her head, evidently having decided to ignore Garreth, giving Ominis an impressed glance, before returning her gaze to Sebastian. “Even if some of the laws aren't good, that doesn't mean we should break them all willy-nilly.”

“So, you do consider it acceptable to break certain laws, within reason.” The Keeper prodded carefully.

“...I suppose I would, but it'd have to be something that is a clear breach of ethics and actively goes against justice.” Natty folded her arms.

“I think that's reasonable.” Ominis nodded firmly.

“But to what extent does it have to be before you'd consider it injustice?” Sebastian pressed, seeming to be quite invested in getting an answer from Natty specifically.

The Keeper wondered if he still struggled with justifying his own actions to himself. If he yet remained hung up on what his uncle might have been thinking when Solomon attacked him. If he was valuing Natty's response over the others’ since she was going to be an Auror, like his uncle had been. Perhaps he feared allowing someone to get close to him when they could possibly become like Solomon.

After remaining in thought for several long moments, Natty eventually replied. “When people are being hurt and robbed.”

Sebastian frowned at the vague statement, seeming rather disappointed at not receiving whatever response he might have been hoping for.

“So, you're fine with denying goblins wands? Well, I suppose the indignation of being denied a wand isn't exactly something you'd empathise with, since you can use wandless magic.” Sebastian shrugged and Natty visibly bristled at his tone.

“That reminds me.” The Keeper interjected, before the two stubborn blockheads could get into a full-blown bigger altruism-dick competition that would go nowhere. “I was hoping, Natty, that you'd be amenable to giving me some instruction in wandless magic.”

Both aforementioned blockheads stared at the Keeper, caught off guard by the abrupt segue.

Visibly blinking away her anger and mentally switching to the new topic, Natty gave them a wry smile. “Of course, though… I'm not sure if you'd be able to.”

“I managed a wandless cast accidentally over the holidays and have been trying to do so again, with some success. Though it’s not remotely as effective as I'd like, and I was hoping you could help with that.” The Keeper chuckled sheepishly, watching as Sebastian slumped against the backrest of his chair, pleased that the two of them were willing to accept the change in topic.

“I see, in that case, I'd be delighted to.” Natty nodded. “Though, I kind of thought you would ask for Animagus training instead, since we're legal now.”

“Wait, you're an Animagus?” Sebastian sat up again, his eyes wide with barely contained excitement and his prior altercation with her clearly forgotten.

Natty blinked in surprise. “You didn't know?”

When her questioning eyes turned to the Keeper, they gave a nonchalant shrug, stating simply. “It wasn't my secret to tell.”

“I see...” Natty's eyes were warm with respect, and the Keeper felt oddly uncomfortable under her gaze, like they did every time she attributed their actions, or lack thereof, to some noble honour or moral code. It wasn't like they'd been thinking of protecting her or anything, they just hadn't seen the relevance or need to bring it up with their lovers.

“I'm more surprised that you're speaking of it at all.” The Keeper glanced towards Amit and Garreth, the latter of whom was looking equally as excited as Sebastian.

“Oh, I registered my Animagus form at the Ministry just after my seventeenth birthday.” Natty explained with a small smile. “Officer Singer kept my ability a secret, on the condition that I register as soon as I was able to do so without backlash.”

“I see.” The Keeper nodded, that certainly made sense. “Well, I don't really see the value of making myself unable to wield magic, so I'm not particularly interested in becoming an Animagus.”

“I am.” Both Sebastian and Garreth spoke at the same time, and they paused to blink at each other, before grimacing.

Sebastian cleared his throat, folding his arms and lifting his chin. “What could you possibly want to be an Animagus for? More petty pranks?”

“Least it's easy to tell what I'd use it for, who knows what you’d get up to.” Garreth side-eyed the Slytherin.

“I'm sure I don't know what you're implying.” Sebastian flapped a hand dismissively. “My interest in the ability is purely academic.”

“I'm sure it is.” Garreth retorted dryly. “Surely you and your love birds here can get it on just fine without being feathered or furry.”

Immediately, Ominis’ face turned bright red, and the Keeper burst into laughter, while Sebastian spluttered in indignation. “That- that's extremely uncouth and uncalled for!”

“No less than your insults towards the noble art of pranking.” Garreth jabbed a finger at the flustered brunet.

“I actually would love to learn how to become an Animagus, I've long dreamt of running or flying alongside my animal friends.” Poppy gave Natty a dreamy smile, seemingly immune to the chaos taking place behind her.

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.” Natty chuckled and nodded easily. “Sure, I'm quite willing to provide guidance in learning self-transfiguration.”

On the other side of the table, Sebastian and Garreth paused their argument at her words, and Ominis coughed twice before speaking. “If you don't mind, Natty, I'd like to learn as well, just to keep this one from running about on his own.”

She laughed lightly as Ominis smacked Sebastian on the side of the head absently, to some quiet and distinctly sulky complaints from the brunet Slytherin.

“Tough one to keep on a leash.” Natty chuckled.

“Tell me about it.” Ominis sighed.

“I suppose I wouldn't mind giving it a try either.” Amit piped up.

“Guess I have a class to teach this year, on top of everything else.” Natty smiled, looking quite happy about this despite her words.

“I hope it’s not too much troubl-” Ominis began nervously.

“Oh, no trouble at all, it shouldn't be very difficult to guide in, I should think.” Natty quickly reassured him with a lopsided smile. “Most of the effort will have to come from yourselves.”

“Well, not me.” The Keeper smiled wryly. “I'm still only interested in learning wandless magic.”

Natty blinked in surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, if it's all the same to you.” The Keeper nodded. “I have a little too much on my hands to worry about holding a leaf in my mouth for a month.”

“Wait, we have to hold- an entire month? Without swallowing it!?” Garreth exclaimed.

“Why, that too hard for you because you're always flapping your gums uselessly?” Sebastian taunted with a smirk.

“I'm sure that'd make it hard for you to suck your boyfriend off too.” Garreth shot back and Ominis covered his face with a hand, looking like he was considering sliding under the table to hide.

“Well, I suppose I can give you wandless tips while guiding the others in Animagus training then, it'll take up less time that way.” Natty offered considerately, while Garreth and Sebastian argued in the background.

“Thank you, I very much appreciate it.” The Keeper tipped their head to her in gratitude.

“We should probably be careful after becoming Animagi.” Poppy put forth with a frown, raising her voice to catch the attention of the table. “My gran says that poacher activity has been increasing in the region again.”

“Is that so?” The Keeper hummed. “I guess it was about time.”

Amit blinked at them in confusion. “What do you mean?”

The Keeper shrugged. “It's been two years since Rookwood and Harlow died. I imagine the infighting, amongst the remaining Ashwinders and Poacher Pack, has finally resolved and someone new has taken the helm.”

Garreth frowned. “You mean they didn't simply scatter or get arrested after they lost their leaders?”

The Keeper stared at him incredulously.

“Of course not. An organisation that big doesn't fall apart when it loses its leader. They probably took so long to recover only because they lost both the guys in first and second place at one shot, breaking the chain of command.” The Keeper explained, feeling kind of weird about having to state something so obvious. “All that does is create a power gap that will be fought over until someone else fills the space.”

“Or the organisation gets absorbed by another.” Natty added, clearing her throat when Poppy gave her a surprised look. “One of the cases Sharp gave me involved organised crime.”

“Yeah, that can happen too.” The Keeper nodded absently. “Honestly, the bobbies never succeed at catching everyone in an organisation as large as the Rookwood Gang. Maybe the panicking rookies and distraught loyalists might get nabbed, but the majority have contingency plans.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about criminal organisations.” Garreth raised an eyebrow in their direction.

The Keeper paused, feeling their skin prickle under the eyes of their friends. Well, the least risky lies were half-truths, they'd just need to deflect.

Shrugging, they attempted to play it off. “Grew up in a rough neighbourhood. Besides, it's only logical. As long as it's lucrative, there's incentive to continue criminal activity. Even if it wasn't the Poacher Pack, poacher activity would return eventually.”

Poppy heaved a heavy sigh. “They're right. The Ministry doesn't exactly pull out all the stops to make business difficult for poachers. There's always a market for creature trade and parts.”

“If they really wanted to stop poaching, they'd do more than just fine poachers when they're caught by local authorities.” Sebastian grumbled. “It's ridiculous that Azkaban is the only prison we have and that it's almost exclusively for practitioners of dark magic. As though it's the only thing that can cause harm.”

“Indeed, unlike the poor, these organisations can certainly afford to pay fines to free their members.” The Keeper grimaced. “To the wealthy, putting a fine on a crime, simply means it's legal for a price.”

“Dark magic exists exclusively to harm, so it's a simple matter to charge anyone who uses it.” Natty protested. “Other means of harm are debatable.”

“Just because a tool was made to harm, doesn't always mean it can only do what it was created to do. I think it's rather lazy to simply place a blanket conclusion without investigating the nuances on a case by case basis.” The Keeper shook their head.

“Well, I am not contesting that...” Natty grimaced. “I suppose I will agree that it is still good to make sure everybody gets the sentence they deserve, rather than just giving everyone the same punishment.”

“Exactly. The current system disproportionately doles out justice. In ways that harm the weak and barely tickle the strong.” The Keeper nodded, giving their friend a small smile. “Perhaps people like you, who can see this, can help make things better.”

Natty's deep frown smoothened out at their words, and she returned their smile. “One hopes.”

“And while you're making the world a better place, I'll be making the world a sweeter place.” Garreth grinned, finishing the last mouth of his butterbeer and standing. “My shift at Honeydukes is starting soon.”

“Oh my gosh, it's already two!?” Poppy exclaimed, staring at the tempus she'd cast and rushing to her feet.

“Guess we'll see each other in class tomorrow.” The Keeper nodded, and the three of their friends exchanged their farewells, leaving the establishment one after the other.

“I think that was a lovely idea.” Ominis smiled. “That we can make the world a better place when we've graduated.”

“It's more than just an idea, darling.” The Keeper brushed the backs of their fingers against his cheek. “It's the plan.”

“Good evening, Professors.” The Keeper greeted as they strode into the Map Chamber with Sebastian in tow.

“Good evening.” Professor Rackham returned the greeting, his tone markedly disheartened compared to his greeting the day before. Understandably.

“I hope the four of you have your answers ready for me.” The Keeper smiled.

“You needn't pretend that you ever intended on giving us a choice.” Bakar huffed. “You cannot possibly believe us unaware that you've already acquired all of our secondary portrait frames. Aside from Professor Fitzgerald's.”

“I'm afraid you're mistaken, Professor Bakar. I do intend on giving all of you the choice to come with me willingly. To support me, to provide guidance and to advise me on my path.” The Keeper's smile became tighter. “But yes, you will be coming with me regardless.”

Professor Rackham sighed, casting a grave, and sweeping gaze across the portraits beside him. “The four of us were created to pass down the wisdom of the people we were painted after.”

He then rested his appraising eyes on the Keeper. “Our young friend here is the only one to whom we can fulfil our duty.”

The Keeper had to fight to suppress their victorious grin. One down, three to go.

“My friends, I ask not that you follow me blindly. Percival Rackham shared much with me as he neared the final moments of his life.” The portrait of Rackham's eyes were sad as he looked to the other Elder Keepers. “He told me of his regrets, that he yet mourned the young girl he'd taught, and wished that he had never let her leave, nor left so much to chance. I believe he would have wanted me to try, and he would have wanted the rest of you to choose in the interests of your own subjects.”

There was a moment of silence as Rackham finished his speech, before Professor Fitzgerald spoke next.

“Niamh Fitzgerald was a woman who believed in the goodness and potential of every Hogwarts student. She sought desperately to save Isidora from her path, even when the headmistress knew that it was too late. That the girl was already a woman and could not be swayed.” Fitzgerald sighed, before smiling gently at the Keeper. “My dear, you are still yet in school, Niamh would never have given up on a student.”

“Thank you, Professor Fitzgerald.” The Keeper bowed their head respectfully towards her, compelled by the instinct to respond with gratitude.

They weren't sure exactly why, but they got the feeling that, while Rackham was choosing to help them out of duty, she was doing so out of love. Was this too what it felt like to have parents? Fig, Niamh, their birth parents. Why was every parental figure they had dead or absent or quite possibly both?

As they straightened, Professor Rookwood spoke, his voice hesitant and uncertain. “I feel... like I do not know you well enough to say.”

The portrait shook his head. “Charles Rookwood was a cautious and wary man. Every step felt like too much, every unknown too perilous. It was in his friends that he trusted, he was a man who believed that trustworthy people could be discerned by those they keep close.”

Rookwood's eyes drifted to Sebastian, who had been standing silently and supportively by the Keeper's side the entire time.

“You were right, Isidora stood alone, not even her goblin friend knew all of her secrets. That you have people you trust and who trust you in return, gives me hope.” Rookwood nodded slowly. “If you are truly trying to right wrongs and are willing to heed advice, rather than being ensnared by arrogance. Then I shall do my best to help my friends keep you on the path.”

And that was three. Now for the last...

“I'm afraid I cannot comply.” Bakar shook his head. “San Bakar was a man who carried regret to his grave as well, but his regret was for not taking action, despite his initial misgivings about Isidora’s experiments. Children were irrevocably harmed, and his dear friend Niamh gravely injured because of his inaction. His hesitation.”

“If he hadn't cast the killing curse during that altercation, dishonourable as it was to strike her from behind, Isidora would have won the day, and slain all four of us Keepers.” His expression became strange. Firm, yet almost apologetic. “I cannot support you. Especially because my colleagues have decided to. There needs be someone to regard you with suspicion and be ready to stop you. Whatever it takes.”

Well, that was in line with expectations, the Keeper nodded. “I understand, Professor Bakar. However, you do understand then, that I cannot allow you the same freedoms afforded to your friends.”

Bakar sighed. “Surely if you wished to prove yourself to me you would seek to show me evidence that would alleviate my suspicion.”

“Unfortunately, I do not believe that anything I show you would suffice. After all, your purported duty is explicitly to view anything I do through the lens of suspicion.” The Keeper chuckled wryly. “If you could be convinced through any performative action, then you would be quite bad at your job.”

The portrait blinked at them in some surprise, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly.

“Hang on.” Unexpectedly, it was Rookwood who spoke next, and the Keeper gave him their attention with some curiosity. “Exactly how do you intend to restrict his freedoms and indeed, what are your plans for those of us who have agreed to support you?”

“Reasonable questions, Professor Rookwood.” The Keeper tipped their head. “Currently, the plan is to place a portrait of Professors Rackham and Fitzgerald in a room, along with your good self. While your secondary portrait and Professor Rackham's will be elsewhere in the castle, allowing both of you to witness and monitor some of my activities.”

“Professor Fitzgerald's secondary portrait will remain in the Headmaster's office as it would be suspicious if it went missing and I trust her not to deliver the Repository to Headmaster Black.” The Keeper gave her what they hoped was a suitably trusting smile, before turning to Bakar. “In contrast, both of Professor Bakar's portraits will be placed in a solitary room and covered with a heavy cloth.”

Bakar, expectedly, didn't look too pleased with their plans for him.

“I would like to make a request, if I may.” Rookwood spoke up again, drawing the Keeper's attention back to him. “Please place at least one portrait of Professor Bakar in the room with the rest of us, so that we may speak with him. Surely you understand how cruel it would be to leave him alone.”

“That is a result of Professor Bakar's decision.” The Keeper narrowed their eyes at him. “Not mine.”

“My young friend.” Professor Rackham interjected. "I would like to begin our relationship of mentor and student and impart to you some advice.”

“Of course, Professor.” The Keeper lowered their head deferentially. “Though, if you wish for me to act against my interests, you will need to be convincing in your rhetoric. I gave you my word that I would hear you out to the end but that is the extent of my guarantee.”

“Thank you.” Professor Rackham smiled, though his brows were furrowed deeply in thought, and he only began after a moment. “Whilst Professor Bakar may not allow himself to be convinced by you, perhaps if you convince us, we may in turn be able to convince him. Rather than burning the bridge with him entirely and losing his wealth of knowledge and wisdom.”

The Keeper hummed, folding their arms. Well, he did have a point, though conversely, putting Bakar with the other Elder Keepers would also run the risk of him poisoning the professors against them instead.

Still, this was a relatively reasonable request, it wasn't a demand that Bakar be given the same freedoms, not to mention, this was Professor Rackham's first ‘piece of advice’. Rejecting it outright would sour the start of their mentorship and they needed to remain in the man's favour, at least until they'd learnt all they could from him.

“I'm not a particularly optimistic person, but very well. I will place his portraits in the room with the rest of you, uncovered.” The Keeper nodded their head once and placed their hands together. “Are there any more questions or requests?”

Professor Fitzgerald's voice was gentle and curious. “Perhaps you could tell us a bit more about your plans.”

“Certainly. Though there aren't many at the moment.” The Keeper shrugged. “My main focus at present, is graduating and finding a sustainable source of income while building our home.”

“As for research with Ancient Magic, I am working on finding a way to extract Pain without damaging what I call the subject's Aura. I've found that the drainage of personality and emotion occurs when Pain, or some other feeling, is removed in overly large amounts, creating a wound through which emotions leak from.”

Fitzgerald nodded slowly as they spoke. “That explains why I did not lose my emotions when I interrupted Isidora’s extraction from my body.”

“And that also seems to be in line with what I saw.” Rackham agreed as well.

“Exactly.” The Keeper nodded. “I hope to master the skill of extracting Pain without causing injury, with the aim of curing Anne of her curse. After that, however, I have nought much specific in mind, perhaps your guidance will help shape my long-term goals.”

The Keeper flashed the portraits a wry smile. The more the Elder Keepers believed that they could influence the Keeper's path, the more lenient they would be.

“And how have you been attempting to master that ability?” Rackham asked. “It sounds as though you have been engaging in the… practical aspects of this research already.”

And here lay the inevitable hurdle. They had a feeling this was going to be harder than it'd been with Ominis.

“Two older boys spent all of last year actively attempting to murder me. I considered their actions as an open invitation for retaliation.” The Keeper explained.

“One of those boys wouldn't happen to be Oberon Selwyn, would it?” Fitzgerald asked.

“As a matter of fact, he is.” The Keeper nodded with some surprise.

The former headmistress sighed. “I suppose I can't entirely blame you. I witnessed the headmaster speaking with the boy's parents over the broomstick incident in Hogsmeade. Professor Black's handling of the situation was frankly unacceptable, the boy should have been expelled immediately.”

“Indeed, we were quite concerned when we heard of your grievous injuries.” Rackham frowned. “But I am equally concerned about your willingness to enact vigilante justice on your own.”

“The law was unable to protect me or mete justice on my behalf, should I simply lie down and allow them to kill me?” The Keeper asked pointedly. “You created guardian statues designed to kill anyone who even accidentally stumbled upon your Trial grounds. Poor Richard Jackdaw's young life was cut short by your golems without ever even knowing what killed him.”

“That is in defence of a dangerous power that would cause incredible harm if discovered.” Rookwood protested.

“Is it? Is that something Professor Rackham saw?” Sebastian scoffed, speaking up for the first time since they'd arrived. “Who died and made you God?”

“Perhaps we should let the ministry decide the fate of the Repository. I mean, surely, it is hubris to believe that you know better than the entire Wizengamot.” The Keeper smiled sardonically. “Or perhaps you'll agree that when the authorities are corrupt and self-serving, it is wiser to make your own decisions. After all, should I die, there would be none left to defend the Repository now that your defences are stripped bare.”

Rackham sighed, looking appropriately abashed. “Fair enough, I concede that at times the greater good necessitates questionable actions, but I caution you nonetheless, against overconfidence in your own moral righteousness.”

“Duly noted, Professor.” The Keeper nodded respectfully. “Now then, if there is nothing else, I would like to retire, I have classes tomorrow.”

Rackham glanced at his fellow portraits, before nodding. “I suppose that is all for now.”

“Excellent, we may speak again next weekend.” The Keeper tipped their head in farewell.

With that, Sebastian drew his wand, levitating the portraits off the wall, for the Keeper to store them in their nab-sack, one at a time, before tucking the nab-sack away in their pouch.

“Well, that was tedious.” Sebastian sighed. “I salute your patience and tolerance for stupidity. Merlin's beard, it was so hard holding my tongue.”

“Would it have been easier if I'd been doing it?” The Keeper chuckled, reaching forward playfully, and making a pinching gesture with their fingers across his lips.

“Probably wouldn't have stopped me from laughing.” Sebastian caught their hand with a grin and pressed a kiss against their knuckles.

“Come on, love. We've had a long day flying about, let's go find Ominis and get some sleep.” Shaking their head, the Keeper adjusted their fingers to grasp his hand loosely and tugged him towards the staircase leading to the exit, feeling him follow without resistance.

As they passed the pedestal, the Keeper plucked the thick Ancient Magic tome from its surface and shoved it into their pouch as well. Causing the floor of stars in the middle of the room to swirl and ripple like a whirlpool of fireflies, before fading back into a still and dark pool.

“Shame to lose such a gorgeous map.” Sebastian sighed wistfully.

“I’m sure I can create something similar on the atrium floor of our Repository Chamber after Professor Rackham teaches me.” The Keeper smiled, laughing when Sebastian's face lit up at the idea.

“Well then, what are we waiting for?” Sebastian grinned and took off through the doors, leaving them to chase after him with another laugh.

“Slow down, Sebastian, we don’t have time for that right now!”

Chapter Text

“Ominis?” The Keeper called out, cautiously pushing open the door to the secondary greenhouse, where they kept their more dangerous plants. One could never be too careful, some of the things they’d moved in here were more dangerous than a box of chomping cabbages, and those little green leaf-balls could be more chaotic than even Sebastian.

As they did so, an unexpected chime rang out and the Keeper startled, darting their gaze about for the source of the soft and melodic sound, which turned out to be a cluster of hollow metal pipes hanging from some string that was then attached to the door.

“Yes?” Ominis' voice, far more pleasant than the chime, came from the other side of a large Venomous Tentacula.

Leaving the door to close behind them, the Keeper examined the chime's mechanics for a moment, before striding over to where Ominis was tending to a Fire Seed Bush which, strangely enough, wasn't on fire.

“Did you hang that chime to the door?” The Keeper asked curiously.

“I did, aunt Noctua made me one for my bedroom door when I was five. It...” Ominis paused for a moment, before continuing. “Made it easier to sleep at night, not having to keep an ear out for someone opening my door, and I asked her to teach me how to craft one too.”

The Keeper wondered what their lover might have feared creeping into his room as a child. Monsters? His older siblings? Parents? The possibilities were potentially concerning.

“I see, I think it's rather clever.” The Keeper hummed thoughtfully. “We could probably do something similar in the main house, perhaps a touch more unobtrusive.”

As they spoke, the chime rang out once again, catching their attention. Leaning back to peek at the door, the Keeper spotted Sebastian entering the greenhouse, walking in backwards and holding the door open as he levitated a large crate inside.

“What have you got there, Sebastian?” The Keeper asked curiously as he followed the box inside.

“Dirt.” Sebastian proclaimed with a flourish, setting the crate down on the floor beside Ominis with a thud.

“That... sounds like a lot more than I asked for.” Ominis blinked.

“Well, I wasn't sure exactly how moist ‘a slice of bread left out on a foggy morning’ would be, in dirt terms.” Sebastian explained with a shrug, swishing his wand and opening the box to reveal six large pots. “So I just dug up a few different spots.”

The Keeper snorted in amusement, taking note of the dampness of his thin and summer-appropriate linen shirt as it clung to his frame. “Manually? Or by magic?”

Combing his fingers through his sweat damp bangs, Sebastian lifted his chin and flashed them a proud grin. “Manually, of course. We haven’t been in battle for ages and if I just rely on our practice spars to stay in shape, I won’t be able to keep up with you.”

“See? It’s not so hard to work out when you work it into your everyday routine. You wizardborn rely too much on magic and neglect your bodies to your own detriment.” With an approving nod and a fond chuckle, the Keeper swept an appreciative gaze up and down his body, pleased when he flushed happily under their attention. “Besides, there are other benefits to being fit, aside from dodging killing curses.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re working on your... health.” Ominis sighed and shook his head. “But I do hope you didn't leave a trail of holes all over our courtyard.”

“Of course not, I smoothed them out again after getting your variety pack.” Sebastian let out a huff at the blond's expression, seeming rather indignant that his partner thought him so inconsiderate. “So, what’d you need a ton of dirt for?”

“Oh, this little one here seems to be suffering from low nitrate levels. I think the soil we used from the previous grass lawn wasn't very nutritious.” Ominis explained as he stooped to run his fingers through the soil in each pot, inspecting the moisture levels of their contents no doubt. “I'm hoping the carpet of clover would have made the soil more suitable for growth.”

“I see.” Sebastian nodded, though his expression didn't quite match his words. Well, he wasn’t taking NEWT Herbology for a reason, their partner only cared about plants insofar as they were useful in potions or other practical use, and higher education Herbology was more focused on the detailed care of plants rather than identification or application.

“The plants are lucky to have such an attentive healer looking after them.” The Keeper smiled fondly at the blond, only for him to narrow his eyes and straighten.

“Hm, well, that's very kind of you to say. Though I notice that you have been complimenting me all morning.” Ominis’ dry tones were dripping with suspicion. “Which reminds me, shouldn’t you be going for your weekly lessons with Professor Rackham soon? Exactly what did you need from me?”

“Can I not simply wish to see the beautiful face of my lover?” The Keeper tried, with their best imitation of Sebastian's most charming smile, receiving a bark of laughter from the brunet beside them for their efforts and, unfortunately, an increase in the intensity of Ominis’ suspicion.

Clearing their throat, the Keeper conceded. “I – well – was wondering if we’ve got any Mandrakes in here.”

Folding his arms, Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Third aisle, beside the Mimbulus Mimbletonia.”

“Thanks, love.” The Keeper quipped, giving him a light peck on the cheek as they shuffled past him quickly.

Weaving through the rows of plants, they dodged a bite from a Fanged Geranium as they rounded the corner, easily spotting the aforementioned Mandrakes they were looking for, next to a large and putrid cactus.

“There we go.” The Keeper murmured, plucking the most pristine and unmarred leaf from the small Mandrake bush’s stem.

“And what do you plan on doing with that?” Ominis’ voice made their shoulders sag in resignation. While, granted, it was obvious what they were up to, perhaps it had been too much to hope that the boys would simply leave it be.

Sighing quietly, the Keeper turned to face him, seeing their partners standing between them and the door, both with folded arms, though markedly different expressions.

“Would you believe me if I said I was wondering how it tasted?” The corner of the Keeper’s mouth lifted in a lopsided smile.

The sheer incredulity on Ominis’ face was almost worth the amount of nagging that was sure to follow.

“Didn't you say you didn't want to become an Animagus?” Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, though his bemused grin never faltered.

“I... did, yes.” The Keeper sighed. “Look, if I do it openly, Natty will be on my case about registering for the rest of her life.”

“So you just planned to sit in on Natty's Saturday evening lessons under the guise of wandless coaching, and then follow along on your own a day late.” Ominis’ lips pressed into a disapproving line.

“If I'm lucky, I'll be something small enough to sneak about unnoticed.” The Keeper reasoned. “I'm not normally one for recon, but it could come in useful and I'm not about to make such an advantage publicly accessible information. Surely, you'd approve of my taking a more cautious approach?”

“They've got a point.” Sebastian grinned, bumping shoulders with Ominis and receiving a glare for his trouble.

“There are reasons people have to register with the Ministry.” Ominis shook his head.

“The only reason the Ministry makes Animagi register is so they can charge whichever bird Animagus they want when a pigeon happens to fly by before a big incident.” The Keeper rolled their eyes. “I'm not going to give them such an easy way to implicate me in crimes I didn't commit.”

“Fair, you'd rather it be for crimes you did commit, I'm sure.” Sebastian chuckled. “But that's only a concern if you can be caught.”

“Sebastian!” Ominis glared in his general direction.

The Keeper laughed lightly, how very Sebastian, to be inexplicably confident that he'd escape consequences. Hard to blame Ominis for being so high strung when he'd grown up with this one for a best friend and love interest. “Says the one who needed our help to get out of your last pickle.”

His expression immediately became chagrined. “Yikes, you just had to remind me.”

“Good. Because you need to be.” Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired shake of his head. “Ugh, can't believe I'll need a second collar and leash.”

A mischievous grin spread across Sebastian's face, as he sidled up against Ominis’ side with a suggestive purr. “Why, Ominis, I didn’t realise your appetites were that deviant.”

Wow, he really was fearless, the Keeper smiled fondly as Ominis bristled in pink cheeked indignation.

“Sebastian!”

Swirls of silver and white, bathed in a soft blue hue, spiralled through the air and danced across the Keeper's wand. The air within the Repository chamber of Dìon's second basement floor vibrated quietly with energy, sharp cracks, and pops echoed across the large hall, and throughout it all, they struggled to focus.

Wood, smooth and firm, planes of porous yet sturdy fibre. Straight sides and a kind of... rounded top? And holes for hinges on the sides and a doorknob. Twisty... patterns? Sort of elegant er-

The swirling stream of Ancient Magic, that had been in the process of transfiguring the large pile of logs at the Keeper's feet, rippled for a moment, before crackling loudly and snapping. The Keeper's eyes opened at the sound and were treated to the sight of half flattened logs collapsing, one of which, tumbled down the pile and rolled to a stop at their feet.

“Argh!” The Keeper released a muffled shout of frustration. It took every scrap of willpower in their bones to stop themselves from kicking or stomping on the warped log right in front of their ancient and conservative teacher.

“How strange, this method seemed to work well when I was instructing Isidora in Ancient Transfiguration.” The portrait of Professor Rackham hummed thoughtfully, and the Keeper fought the itch to throw a Confringo at the artwork.

Seeming to notice their restrained frustration, the portrait quickly followed in a placating tone. “Don't be discouraged, my young student, I can see your efforts. Perhaps, seeing as you have not made any improvement since our lesson last Sunday, we should try a different approach.”

“I'm all ears, Professor.” The Keeper smiled tightly.

Sure, it stung that they weren't getting it even after spending the little free time they had all week drawing bloody doors, touching the damn classroom doors in Hogwarts while getting weird looks from their classmates, and trying desperately to mentally visualise this shit, but hey, they would do whatever it took to learn how to use their powers.

This whole Ancient Transfiguration thing was insanely useful. While it required the materials necessary to craft the object manually and cost a truly exhausting amount of magic, being able to craft and ascribe customisable directives into objects, like the Ancient Guardians that were tasked with guarding the Trials? Worth it.

Especially since they could use Pain to boost their production output well above what Professor Rackham had achieved alone. Once they’d mastered the crafting skill, of course.

Not to mention, if they could even learn to manipulate the weather like Rackham had with Feldcroft, any defence of Dìon could be bolstered even further with nature’s elements. They could already call down lightning to strike a foe in combat, if they could conjure a hurricane or a tornado to annihilate their enemies, Dìon would truly be impervious to aerial attacks.

A dry voice, that sounded remarkably like Ominis, prodded them in the back of their head. Well, of course, such a skill could also be of agricultural use, but, look, priorities.

“How have you tapped into your Ancient Magic up to this point?” Rackham asked after a few minutes of thought.

“What do you mean?” The Keeper frowned in confusion. “It just... happens. When I need it.”

“Purely on instinct then, I was much the same when I first began to experiment with my abilities.” Rackham nodded with a small smile. “Perhaps the way we access and channel our Ancient Magic may differ. Tell me, how did your Ancient Magic first manifest without prompt, and under what circumstances?”

The Keeper hesitated, but ultimately decided to be honest. They'd have to broach the subject eventually. “In combat. My Ancient Magic consistently surfaces to help me... expedite my victory.”

Rackham, to his credit, didn't show much surprise at their answer. “I assume those... results were permanent.”

“Quite, they are extremely effective and I haven't seen anyone successfully counter or dodge my Ancient Magic spells. Though in all fairness, the latter could just be because I hardly ever see anyone actually dodge, far be it from wizards to do anything more strenuous than side-step.” The Keeper rolled their eyes, while Rackham flashed a bemused smile at their apparent pet peeve, adding after a moment’s thought. “Not that those spells had any actual incantations, I simply... did them.”

“Do you recall your thoughts or feelings, or perhaps, more specifically, desires, during those moments?” Rackham asked, clearly struggling to smother his distaste under a professional demeanour.

“...I suppose I was thinking of how to win, I wanted to kill my enemies.” The Keeper murmured, recalling the rage that would grip them whenever a goblin or Ashwinder managed to injure Sebastian or themselves.

Ancient Magic practically leaping from their fingertips to shred the insolent cretin to dust, turning their desire to shatter bones into reality. Their wand, nay, their magic becoming a powerful arm with which to beat their foes into submission.

I see.

“I think I understand.” The Keeper raised their wand and pointed it at the pile of partially transmuted wood, closing their eyes and focusing, not on the visual aspects of the door they wished to create, but the function of said door.

Their mind returned to their conversation with Ominis, and the reason Noctua had made him a wind chime. The desire to protect him, to keep him from ever feeling that fear again, the same fear they knew all too well, the overwhelming terror of being cornered.

A wall to guard against fire and water, against any and all threats. An impenetrable barrier to ward off all but speakers of parseltongue. A portal to safety and solitude for its lord, and its lord alone. A surface smooth and pleasant to the touch, free of splinters or edges- so tuck those pointy slivers of wood away, or so help me, I will shatter you on the fucking spot if you so much as draw a drop of blood from my Omi-

“Well done, well done! A fine piece of work!”

The sound of applause drew the Keeper from their focus and their eyes opened, to the sight of a simple and, honestly, rather plain and flat oak door standing before them. Well, at least the large cracks their previous attempts had borne were nowhere to be found.

They shot Rackham a sceptical glance, did he really think their ego so fragile that he must coddle them with praise?

Setting the thought aside, the Keeper's eyes scanned the door rather critically. It wasn't nearly pretty enough to be worthy of being the door to Ominis’ study, nor could they determine if they'd successfully imbued it with the functions they'd intended. Though, looking at the diminished pile of logs they'd set aside for the door, it seemed like the piece of furniture had consumed a fair bit more than a door this size would use.

Taking a step towards the flat slab hovering upright in the air, about half a meter off the ground, the Keeper placed their hand against the wood, pleased to discover that it was indeed smooth as silk to the touch. Next, they rapped their knuckles against its surface, and were satisfied to hear a solid thunk in response. Perhaps the density of the door was higher than normal, exactly as they'd intended, hopefully.

Raising their wand and moving a safe distance away, the Keeper figured the best way to test it out... was to test it out.

“Bombarda maxima!” Without hesitation, they jabbed their wand towards the door.

There was an explosion of light and smoke. Accompanied by a wave of heat that made the Keeper cough lightly as the dust from the blast dissipated, leaving a darkened patch on the door's surface but, to their delight, upon examination, the exploding charm didn't seem to have done much more. Huh, durable indeed.

“Perhaps a word of warning before you set things on fire, hm?” Rackham's voice was relatively pleasant, despite the uneasy smile on his face.

“Why?” The Keeper flashed him a lazy smirk. “Worried I'll destroy you, the way you did Isidora’s portrait?”

The professor stiffened at their words. “You've been to her home.”

“Yes, Sebastian lives in Feldcroft and we found the remains of her portrait.” The Keeper shrugged nonchalantly. “There is no reason for Ranrok or Victor Rookwood to destroy her portrait so deliberately, which only left you Keepers as the likely culprits.”

“We couldn't risk her sharing her knowledge with the inheritors of Ancient Magic.” Rackham sighed. “Though, our efforts were clearly for naught.”

“Indeed.” The Keeper gave a dark chuckle, leaning leisurely against their door as they rolled their wand between their fingers. “Her diary pages were enough to give me some idea of how extraction worked. Though they also made clear how she'd descended into madness. It's rather telling of her mental state, that she thought her writings wouldn't discourage others from following in her footsteps.”

Rackham's eyes widened in surprise.

“You didn't know?” The Keeper asked with a wry smile. “She was on the front lines of the Black Death. The sorrow she witnessed eroded her sanity until she gave in to the desire to shortcut emotional healing.”

The Keeper huffed in mild amusement. “She accidentally consumed the Pain from her first extraction and passed out. Not understanding what had even happened to her, believing that the smoky energy she’d extracted had ‘dissipated’ when it had more likely entered her body in search of a new host. After all, we now know that Pain energy cannot be destroyed.”

“It probably began there, with the misconception that the addictive Pain induced euphoria was moral righteousness.” The Keeper mused thoughtfully. “Addiction adding desire to her desperation.”

“Accidentally...” Rackham's eyes were now filled with a deep grief. “Then she never stood a chance. If I'd been there, I wonder if it would have made a difference.”

“Probably.” The Keeper shrugged. “Having Sebastian and Ominis by my side certainly helped me snap out of it when my addiction began to consume me. They gave me a reason to stop. To fight to control myself.”

“May I ask how you manage to resist it?” Rackham spoke tentatively as though he thought they might refuse to answer such a reasonable question. “I must confess that I am quite curious.”

“With difficulty.” The Keeper snorted sardonically, placing a hand on the satchel resting against their side and closing their eyes. “And by any means necessary. I won't pretend it is easy, or that I don't struggle with it even in this very moment. Even with a featherlight charm on this bag, the weight I bear has never been heavier.”

A moment passed before they opened their eyes and met Rackham's gaze with a determined countenance. “But my partners trusted me. Chose to trust me, and I refuse to let them down. To meet that trust with disregard.”

The look on Rackham's face was conflicted, seeming to have found some assurance in their declaration, yet tempered by an almost abashed slant to his shoulders as he placed his hands behind his back.

Disregarding his inner conflict, the Keeper returned their gaze to the door. “I desire the future I will share with them more than the momentary bliss that Pain provides, I will neither drown myself, nor my ambitions in its depths, no matter how alluring they may be.”

They shot Rackham a wry smirk. “I'm a greedy Slytherin after all. I will have everything, and I will give up nothing.”

The elderly man snorted lightly in amusement, his expression pensive for a few seconds, before returning his gaze to theirs with a small smile. “I see that you value your loved ones greatly, and that is a good thing. I only hope that doesn't become something that ultimately clouds your judgement.”

The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at him. Was he suggesting that their boyfriends could be a vulnerability? That their love made them weak? That seemed out of character for the kind and cautious man.

Seeing their confusion, Rackham quickly elaborated. “Isidora sought so desperately to cure her father of his pain, to ease his suffering and reclaim happiness, that eventually she lost sight of what happiness even meant. She forgot that happiness was not the absence of pain, but something that exists in defiance of pain.”

Well, that made much more sense, the Keeper nodded absently, thinking back to their experiments with Pain energy. As they did so, a realisation struck them, and they lifted a hand to their chin in contemplation.

“What is it, my young pupil?” Rackham asked curiously.

“My tests have shown that once pain is removed from a subject, it leaves a numbness behind, a lack of sensation.” The Keeper began pacing across the floor, thinking aloud as they did. “However, if the source of the pain is not addressed and healed, it continues to produce pain that will eventually fill the space once more.”

Rackham grimaced, but nodded slowly. “That certainly does make sense.”

“Which makes Isidora’s father less so.” The Keeper continued.

“What do you mean?” Rackham frowned.

“Well, her father's grief over losing his son is supposedly the reason he remained mute for decades.” The Keeper explained. “But that's a one-time injury, certainly a devastating one, but should it not have begun healing over time?”

“I have neither had, nor lost a child, so I wouldn't presume to say.” Rackham's tone was chiding, and the Keeper rolled their eyes at his thinly veiled admonishment.

“Yes yes, I don't have such experience either, but I'm thinking of how Isidora’s inexperience might have affected his recovery.” The Keeper shook their head, thinking of Anne and the way Solomon had ‘cared’ for her by destroying her hope for salvation. “Isidora was his only caregiver, perhaps her impatience for her father to recover may have worsened his condition. After all, what hurts more than someone you love telling you to get over it? It might even explain his reluctance to speak, for expressing his grief would only be met with frustration from her.”

“Or perhaps her presence alone, as his only surviving child, may have exacerbated the emotional wound, reminding him of what he had lost. Regardless of what she did.” Rackham countered, shaking his head in clear disapproval. “Regardless, I do not see it meaningful to lay blame on Isidora for consequences she did not intend.”

The Keeper huffed irritably. “It's not blame I wish to lay, it is understanding. There's a difference. Whether she intended to or otherwise, if we are to learn from it, we must understand it. That reluctance to discuss difficult topics is the reason we're in this mess to begin with.”

Rackham sighed. “I wonder which of us is supposed to be the teacher here.”

“If you actually started teaching instead of dodging, it'd probably be clearer.” The Keeper grumbled.

“If you were more respectful perhaps it'd be easier to teach you.” The elderly man's lips were pressed thin.

“Take it up with my parents.” The Keeper shot back. “I tried the whole respect and politeness thing with you Keepers for an entire year. It got me nowhere and cost me-”

The words caught in their throat and the Keeper turned away to take a breath, surprised to find it shaky.

If they had taken Sebastian's advice and pressed the elder Keepers instead of being afraid of failing to meet their expectations. Of escaping the muggle world only to die at Ranrok's hand if the handful of portraits abandoned them, would Fig have survived? It was a question they would never know the answer to. A question that would forever haunt them, the way his uncle haunted Sebastian even now.

Rackham's furrowed brow smoothened out as his student visibly swallowed around the lump in their throat.

He paused, reminded that despite all their pomp and pretension, they were still just a child struggling to make sense of the world in the only way they knew how. Perhaps it wasn't so strange that Isidora had sought a magical solution to a human problem, when that was all Hogwarts had taught her.

And indeed... all that he himself had taught her too.

“And what have you learnt from speculating about Isidora?” Rackham asked.

“You're the teacher, you tell me.” The Keeper rolled their eyes. “And if you don't know either, I'll keep speculating and gathering information till I have a takeaway that makes sense. That's the point of all this discussion.”

The portrait huffed in amusement, well, they say it's hard to fill a cup that is already full, but at least it looked like his student's cup had both room and desire to grow.

“In that case, I'd say the takeaway, for now, is that magic cannot solve everything. Caring for your loved ones is something you need patience and restraint for.” Rackham raised a finger. “Magic can protect the body, but the heart is another matter altogether.”

“Mm, I can agree with that.” The Keeper nodded absently. “Speaking of protection, I've been hoping you could help me understand chapter fourteen of your Ancient Magic tome.”

Rackham blinked at the sudden change of topic, but decided to allow it and spent a moment thinking before giving his reply. “Hm, Ley Lines, if I recall correctly.”

“Yes, I couldn't make heads or tails of it when going through the tome with Fig. So Sebastian and I studied some books from the library last year to get an understanding of the basics.” The Keeper nodded, folding their arms. “I got the importance of Ley Lines for magical fortresses, anchoring the warding spells into the innate magic of the land to make them stronger and last longer, but the tome gave me the impression that Ancient Magic enhances this somehow?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.” Rackham nodded. “Regular Ley Line bindings allow spells to draw power from the Earth's ambient magic. Ancient Magic, however, ties the building itself to the Earth’s soul, bringing it to life, and turning it into a part of the planet itself, like a mountain or lake.”

“A good example of a fortress bound to the Earth with Ancient Magic is Hogwarts itself.” Rackham smiled. “I'm not sure if you're familiar with the Room of Requirement?”

The Keeper's eyes widened. “I am, actually. I've been using it to get in extra schoolwork and as a bit of a workshop.”

“Excellent, then you know how it reads the mind of its occupant to fulfil their needs.” Rackham nodded. “Hogwarts is, to a degree, sentient. In some likeness to myself. Due to its size, its duty is most likely simply to protect inhabitants as much as possible. A simple task to be sure, but as you will learn, the simpler the assignment, the better they are followed.”

“Wait, if Hogwarts was bound with Ancient Magic, that means...” The Keeper breathed, their eyes gleaming with eager anticipation.

“Indeed, the founders of Hogwarts were bearers of Ancient Magic as well.” An entirely relatable pride was reflected in Rackham's eyes. “Much like how I drew on the magic of my friends to end the drought in Feldcroft, it is likely that the four founders of Hogwarts pooled their vast stores of Ancient Magic together to bring such a magnificent structure to life.”

“That's incredible. To think, we share the same power as such renowned legends.” The Keeper murmured, raising their wand and gazing into the strong bluish glow at its tip. “That's why Hogwarts, San Bakar's Tower, your home and the Trial grounds contained enchantments powerful enough to last centuries.”

“Correct, and the traces of Ancient Magic that you've been collecting endured as well because they were also tied to the Earth, and part of its stream of life.” Rackham added. “In collecting them, you have already experienced the sensation of tapping into the natural magic of our world.”

The Keeper frowned for a moment before gasping. “The storm of magic that would erupt when I followed and unlocked Ancient Magic traces?”

“Quite right you are.” Rackham smiled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Though, what you describe as a ‘storm’, was but the trickling spring of a wizardmade tree tap, one that I sculpted myself. The true torrents of Earth's natural magic are a raging whirlpool far more turbulent and chaotic than what you have glimpsed.”

The Keeper's jaw went slack. “You can't be serious, those ‘trickling springs’ were enough to bring me to my knees on my first attempt to connect with it.”

“Yet, as time passed and the more Traces you collected, the stronger your Ancient Magic and the firmer your stance became.” Rackham reassured. “Though, you will need much training and experience to be capable of resisting being caught in the whirlpool of nature's forces, lest you lose your sense of self in the cacophony of life itself.”

The Keeper frowned. “How long did it take you to become capable of sculpting in the Earth with Ancient Magic?”

“It is necessary to be well versed in many branches of wizarding magic in order to master Ancient Magic.” Rackham hummed thoughtfully. “I was close to a hundred years of age when I was forced to stand against Isidora. The rest of my life was spent making preparations for you and your journey.”

“By the time I was specifically training to craft the Trial Grounds, I was already quite proficient in my mastery of Ancient Magic, and it still took me several years.” Rackham gave the Keeper a sympathetic smile. “I'm afraid it'll take you quite a long time to develop the capability.”

“Even with your guidance?” The Keeper asked, uncertain if they were trying to convince him or themselves. “You had to figure this out alone. With you, surely I will have an easier time.”

Rackham shook his head. “It is not merely knowledge or skill that plays a part in this endeavour. Your Ancient Magic core is naturally larger and more responsive than most wizards, having spent a longer time developing before it emerges when you reach fifteen. But even then, it too takes time and age to grow and further increase in capacity. Without enough magic in your body, you will simply be overwhelmed by the Earth.”

The Keeper's eyes sharpened, along with their grin. “If that's the only concern, then you have nothing to worry about. That was pretty much the only part of the chapter that I grasped and when I consumed Pain energy to re-seal the Repository, I experienced a surge in magic capacity.”

At the Professor's surprised expression, they shrugged. “It's one of the main reasons I'm still using the Repository, even after I realised how addictive it was. I can't afford to wait years, Anne's life is on a clock, and my activities will necessitate that our home be safe.”

Rackham sighed. “That's quite the predicament indeed. I suppose in that respect, your circumstances differ greatly from Isidora's.”

“Took you long enough to trust me when I say that.” The Keeper grumbled, folding their arms. “But yes, I am driven by necessity and restricted by the constraints of reality, not by delusions of grandeur or some souped up Jesus complex.”

The Professor's confused frown made them pause and struggle to find a way to explain their analogy. “Er, you know, muggle religious deity figure, literally takes all the sin from mankind to save their souls. Isidora was kind of trying to do that, but with pai- nevermind.”

The Keeper cleared their throat. “Point is, I'm hoping to be able to perform the Ley Line Bindings as soon as possible. So, as great as it's been to learn how to make doors, if you think it'll take effort, I'd like to start sooner rather than later.”

“I understand your urgency, however there are some things that simply cannot be rushed. And one of them, is learning.” Rackham raised a finger. “While the Pain energy might allow you to perform the initial binding ritual earlier than otherwise, you will still need to learn how to control your Ancient Magic before you can even do that. For performing the ritual requires that you bind yourself to the Earth as well.”

“Not to mention, you will need to master nearly all other elements of regular and Ancient Magic before you can actually mould and manipulate the Earth's soul, not just connect with it.” The professor added with a wry smile. “Which means, mastering the art of Ancient Magic Transfiguration.”

The Keeper sighed as he gestured back at the door they'd crafted. Following his hints, they raised their wand towards the door once more. Well, slow and steady.

Taking a deep breath, they closed their eyes.

They would master this.

No matter what.

“That sounds like quite the adventure.” Ominis shook his head as he strolled leisurely alongside the Keeper, wand pulsing a soft red as the throuple made their way to the Slytherin common room after dinner. “I swear, you have the most bizarre experiences, you could fill a book or two with tales of a year alone.”

The Keeper shrugged, sure beat their life before. “Well, I won't deny that. Though, I'm just happy to have yet another means of making money and a third house elf, Penny is quite the sweetheart.”

“You should have been there, Ominis.” Sebastian chuckled from the other side of the Keeper. “Damn poltergeist actually taunted us with the dumbest thing, asking if it worried us that he could see us, but we couldn't see him!”

“Hilarious. Though, had I been there, I doubt he would have used that line.” Ominis flashed a sardonic smile. “I'm just glad you were there to go in with them, it sounds like that dungeon would have been quite scary to traverse alone.”

“I will admit, some of his games certainly gave me a start. Almost hit Sebastian with an Incendio when the mannequins appeared around us, after we dispelled our Lumos.” The Keeper patted Sebastian on the shoulder apologetically.

“It's quite alright, I had my share of jumps as well, but at least the puzzles were an enjoyable challenge. I actually wouldn’t mind playing with Fastidio again if he ever gets too whiny.” Sebastian admitted with an unconvincingly lackadaisical tone.

The Keeper shot him an amused glance, well, at least they could rest easy knowing that the two could tortur- entertain each other if they ever got too restless.

“Though I must say that Mason was a fool to outright attack Officer Singer when we confronted her. No surer way of confirming her guilt.” Sebastian gave a disparaging shake of his head. “It's a good thing Singer trusts you too.”

“I'd like to think I've proven myself to the officer over the last two years.” The Keeper smirked dryly. “I'm just glad that Mason is getting punished for swindling dozens of people in this manner. Not to mention, for the emotional abuse a kind soul like Penny suffered under that callous woman's thumb, being forced into the role of accomplice and set as bait alongside the shop.”

“Aspiration.” With a small laugh, the Keeper stepped through the door to the Slytherin common room. “In all honesty, it was the elf that I’d wanted, more so than the shop. A thousand and five hundred galleons for an elf and a small building next to Hogwarts? That was too good to pass up, regardless of how suspicious it’d been.”

“Indeed, Penny will have a better life in our care.” Ominis smiled softly. “I suppose we will introduce her to Tynx and Tibsy over the weekend.”

“Yes, she can familiarise herself with our wares before the official opening next week.” The Keeper nodded.

“Have you decided on a name?” Sebastian asked from behind them as the three made their way down the stairs in a row.

“Well, we'll be selling potions we make from our greenhouse and the clothing I've found or received as payment for errands.” The Keeper shook their head, it had bewildered them at the start, that the surplus of unsightly heirloom garments, given to them by people who couldn’t afford to pay in cash, traded for galleons well and consistently. A luxury of those wealthy enough to have developed unusual tastes or collectors of old and storied cloth, they imagined.

“So, something along those lines.” Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “Stitches and Draughts?”

“We could go with something like Gladrag's.” Ominis suggested. “Perhaps Cladwell and Brewster?”

“I was thinking of something with a bit of alliteration, something like Vesters and Venum?” The Keeper mused, turning to face the boys as they reached the foot of the stairs and sidestepping to avoid smashing those damn pots again.

“Surely we’re not specialising in selling poisons, especially not when the shop is right outside Hogwarts.” Ominis raised an eyebrow, leading the way towards one of the open couches littered about the common room.

“But we could.” Sebastian grinned.

“Well, we shouldn't.” Ominis’ lips pressed into a familiar thin line and Sebastian heaved a forlorn sigh as he flopped down, draping himself across a long couch.

“Now, Ominis, if we market ourselves as selling standard potions, there won't be any reason for customers to patronise our establishment over the long-standing Pippins. Same goes for clothing and Gladrag’s.” The Keeper reasoned, taking a seat across from Sebastian and patting the spot beside them. “Not to mention, I doubt either of those shops will be too pleased at us encroaching on their businesses.”

“Again, is it not a bit dangerous to sell poisons right on Hogwarts’ doorstep?” Ominis reiterated, stopping beside the couch, but remained standing and folded his arms.

“No less so than Dogweed and Deathcap selling Venomous Tentaculas.” The Keeper shrugged. “If the authorities have no issues with such a store near Hogwarts, I don't see any reason they'd protest ours. And we can claim our poisons as effective defence against pests and dangerous creatures if need be.”

The Keeper flashed a cynical smile. “I assure you, if students wanted to poison someone, Hogwarts itself has more than enough means to procure or craft some. I’m sure you recall the Draught of Living Death incident last year.”

Hearing the Keeper pat the space next to them more insistently, Ominis relented, taking the offered seat with a sigh. “Fair enough, I suppose you do have a point. How then will we distinguish our clothing from Gladrag's?”

Across from them, Sebastian's face lit up at his agreement and the Keeper struggled to stifle their amusement at the brunet's expression, clearing their throat as they gathered their words.

“I've been performing additional enhancements to my clothing using beast materials for some time. We can market our apparel as protective wear, rather than fashion oriented as Gladrag does.” The Keeper answered easily. “While there's likely to be less demand, particularly amongst the student population, if our reputation rises high enough, people will come from elsewhere to make purchases.”

“Sounds like you've got a plan already.” Sebastian chuckled. “I wonder why I'm surprised.”

The Keeper shrugged. “I learnt early on that there's a market for everything. Trading was a matter of success or starvation. I had to discern what others might desire from me to sustain myself, and there is nothing more foolhardy in trade, than selling something commonly acquirable.”

“Were that you weren't considered a commodity yourself.” Ominis murmured bitterly.

Bumping shoulders with him, the Keeper chuckled softly. “Hey, kept me alive long enough to meet you two, I'm content with my lot.”

“High praise indeed, to be worth all that.” Sebastian huffed with a wry smile.

The Keeper was about to reply, when they felt the tell-tale sensation of eyes upon them. Casting their gaze about surreptitiously, they quickly spotted a girl approaching them. She looked a tad familiar, but not enough to recognise, which meant she was likely one of the younger Slytherin students.

“Um, Ominis?” The girl stopped a step away from the couch, twirling a strand of her long auburn hair in her fingers as she spoke.

“Yes, Jolene?” Ominis lifted his head curiously.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if you'd mind taking a look at my Mimbulus Mimble- er... Mimbleto... to-” The girl, apparently named Jolene, stumbled on the name for a moment, before Ominis took pity on her.

“Mimbletonia.” He supplied helpfully with a small smile.

“Yes, that.” Jolene's emerald green eyes slid away with some embarrassment for a moment, before clearing her throat and continuing. “I think it's not doing very well and I'm not sure what to do.”

Ominis hesitated for a moment, and she quickly added. “And Professor Garlick is doing an assessment on Monday. Please, I really need your help!”

With a quiet exhale, Ominis tilted his head towards the Keeper, and they placed a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “Go ahead, Ominis, you needn’t worry about us.”

A smile formed on Ominis’ lips as he stood, giving them a nod before turning his attention back to the girl. “Very well, I'll see what I can do.”

“Oh, thank you!” Jolene beamed, clapping her hands together in an exuberant display of gratitude. Giving the Keeper a good look at her long and colourfully polished fingernails, along with the three bejewelled rings adorning said fingers, before leading him in the direction of the staircase.

Well, with hands like that, of course the damn plant is dying. The Keeper rolled their eyes as the two disappeared up the stairs, girl looked like she wouldn't touch dirt without two layers of gloves and a spade.

“Well, that was unexpected.” Sebastian commented, seeming rather thrown by the sudden disappearance of their partner. “I guess we have some time to kill before he gets back.”

“Indeed...” The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, before perking up. “Oh, that reminds me. I was wondering if you would teach me chess?”

“Oh, that's right. I can't believe you don't know how to play.” Sebastian shook his head as he stood, leading the way over to a nearby chess table. “It's a good job I was there in Fastidio’s dungeon, elsewise you might have fallen through the floor to certain doom.”

“Look, we didn't have chess boards or pieces in the orphanage, or on the streets.” The Keeper shrugged as they sat across from him. “The best we had were cups and dice or poker cards.”

“Poker?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow quizzically while the chess pieces arranged themselves.

“A gambling card game where the most powerful card in your deck is an unreadable visage.” The Keeper smirked. “Also known as a ‘poker face’ for that reason.”

“I bet you were good at that game.” Sebastian's voice was so dry, you could probably use it for sandpaper.

The Keeper chuckled. “I'll teach it to you in exchange for chess.”

“Deal.” Sebastian grinned and gestured towards the board. “So, this row here is filled with pawns, and these pieces can move forward, but can only attack diagonally...”

“For Merlin's sake, you're running for your bloody life! Why is the most vital piece in the entire roster so useless? You spend the entire game babysitting that turtle.” The Keeper sighed, glaring at the small pile of rubble that was their King. “And who decided to make Knights move in such a bizarre manner? Horses jump in a straight line ya moron.”

Sebastian laughed as the board pieces magically restored and rearranged themselves for a fresh game. “You'll get used to it, it's not so bad once you’ve memorised what the pieces do. And in all honesty, that was a pretty impressive first round. You lasted long enough for more than half the common room to retire. I'm rather jealous of your learning curve.”

The Keeper lifted their head from where it'd fallen back against the backrest, humming thoughtfully and tracing a finger over the rim of their Castle piece. “I have been thinking about that actually. I know Rackham was renowned in his time for being extraordinarily gifted, as were the Hogwarts Founders and Isidora. And I wonder perhaps, if we Ancient Magic bearers simply have a higher propensity for learning.”

“It's possible, Rackham said something about a more responsive magical core, right? And it would explain the sheer ridiculousness of your existence. You might literally be a different species.” Sebastian smirked, before pausing in thought for a moment. “Huh, would that make Ominis and I creature-lovers?”

“Aw, you'd love me even if I were a magical creature?” The Keeper simpered playfully, relaxing their guard a tad since there wasn't anyone within earshot.

“Course, fuck the Ministry and their bullshit laws.” Sebastian grinned.

“How sweet.” The Keeper chuckled, meaning it quite sincerely. They'd spent most of their life feeling different from everyone around them, and despite their expectations to the contrary, that hadn't changed when they'd entered the wizarding world. So, it was indeed quite wonderful to know that Sebastian would love them even if they weren't human.

“Besides, humans are all different anyway, not even our skin colour is consistent. It'd be weirder to define being human as a specific set of abilities or rate of learning, I think it's enough that we're built similarly.” Sebastian shrugged.

“Fair enough.” The Keeper nodded, perhaps it wasn't too surprising that Sebastian wouldn't think being born with an additional unique magical ability or accelerated learning would make them inhuman. After all, he'd grown up with Ominis, who was both a parselmouth and blind.

“Oh, there he is.” Sebastian perked up and the Keeper turned around to see said blond walking towards them, wand outstretched as always.

“Sorry that took a while.” Ominis smiled sheepishly as he stopped beside their table and Sebastian flicked his wand, calling over an armchair for Ominis to sit in.

“No worries, love.” The Keeper shook their head. “Sebastian just spent the last hour trouncing me at chess.”

“Did he?” Ominis’ eyebrows lifted with some surprise.

“Once.” Sebastian snorted. “So, was Smith's Mimbulus Mimbletonia dead?”

Ominis flashed a wry smile. “Not quite, it was rather close, however. It seems as though the pungent cactus was dehydrated, and then she proceeded to drown it.”

“I'm surprised that you're friends with a younger student.” The Keeper snorted in amusement, before asking. “What year is she in?”

“She’s not that much younger, just in fifth-year, though I'm not sure I'd call her a friend.” Ominis’ expression was thoughtful. “She asks me for help with schoolwork every now and again, but that's the extent of our interactions. She seems rather shy, and I think she's a tad intimidated by my family name.”

“How did that even start?” The Keeper prodded curiously. While Ominis was certainly the type who'd help others if asked, it was rare that someone who didn't repulse him would even approach him to begin with. Not to mention, shy and intimidated weren't quite the impression she'd given them.

“I stumbled across her in third-year, having a cry in front of the entrance to the Undercroft.” Ominis explained. “I couldn't exactly go in with her there, and if Sebastian or Anne came out at the wrong moment, it would have revealed the secret passageway. So, I asked what was bothering her.”

His expression softened with sympathy at the memory. “She'd had a fight with her parents, they wanted her to be more like her six older sisters and were disappointed at her lack of ambition. Her family is rather wealthy, with her father being an official in the ministry and her mother working in Saint Mungo's, and her sisters are all equally successful.”

Ominis flashed a wistful smile. “I felt her something of a kindred spirit. So, I shared a little of my own struggles with my family's disapproval and it seemed to give her some comfort, to not be alone. I thought perhaps we might become friends after that, but I think the difference in our stations made her nervous. After she realised that I was a Gaunt, she remained somewhat distant.”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow. “Even though she's also wealthy?”

“Unfortunately, the pureblood aristocracy requires more than wealth to be a part of or even engage with. First, they must be pureblood, which means there cannot be any muggles, muggleborn or squibs within two generations. Her grandmother was apparently a muggle-born, thus making Jolene and her sisters halfbloods rather than pure. Second, they have to have blood from one of the old noble family lines.” Ominis explained.

A bitter grimace then crossed his face. “I have considered it possible that her parents forbade her from interacting with me overmuch, for fear of her misstepping and drawing the ire of my parents, thus inviting political retribution.”

“Well, that sounds incredibly complicated and stupid.” The Keeper commented bluntly.

Ominis chuckled. “Honestly, you and yours are refreshingly uncommon, to be so forward and cavalier with a member of the pureblood aristocracy. I imagine it’s because Natty only recently moved here, so she is unfamiliar with the nuances of our customs. Where Poppy is already quite the odd one out, and Amit champions Goblin rights, which is already a precarious political position, but he doesn't mind because he's only interested in Astronomy. And the Weasleys may have a long-standing rivalry with the Malfoy house, but are known for disregarding pureblood culture as a whole.”

Ominis’ smile was soft with gratitude. “It's quite impressive that you managed to draw in all the people who wouldn't mind engaging with me, and I'm glad you encouraged me to befriend them.”

The Keeper shrugged. “I did nothing, it's not your fault half the wizarding world seems to be lacking any sense.”

“And what am I? Burnt toast?” Sebastian cocked an eyebrow, his petulant tone drawing a laugh from the other two.

“Yes yes, Sebastian, I am endlessly grateful to you too.” Ominis gave a small, amused huff, and paused for a moment, his cheeks turning a light pink. “For being by my side since first-year.”

“Good.” Sebastian gave a firm nod. “And that isn't going to change, come what may. Unlike a kid who can under-water a cactus, I don't give a rat's arse what your parents might do.”

The Keeper snorted. “That ‘kid’ is only two years our younger, love.”

“Speaking of kids, remember Dumbledore?” Ominis interjected, and the Keeper got the feeling that he was trying not to think of the potential friend he might have had earlier, when he was lonely, if his family hadn't scared her off. He might be happy now, but it probably still hurt.

Sebastian blinked at the sudden change in topic, but went along without resistance, perhaps realising his mistake. “Redhead kid? Yeah, I remember him.”

“Apparently, he's being lauded as the newest prodigy to hit Hogwarts, and one to rival the Salamander themselves, no less.” Ominis’ voice had become light and his expression carefree, and the Keeper was bemused at how much their blond boyfriend liked gossip.

Perhaps it was easier for him to forget about his own problems and live a normal Hogwarts student life vicariously through his schoolmates. Which they were perfectly content to encourage, especially when the gossip he always somehow managed to hear, provided them with information that they wouldn't have otherwise. Not to mention, the extent to which he seemingly enjoyed having someone to spill tea to.

“Really? It's barely been a month since term started.” Sebastian's eyebrows rose, and he shot the Keeper a proud grin. “Took this one less than a week to gain attention for their magical talent.”

“I think there's a tad more excitement around Dumbledore’s genius because the boy is only in his first year.” Ominis suggested with a thoughtful hum.

“Yeah, but fifth-year was their first year too.” Sebastian pointed out almost defensively, and the Keeper wondered if he was experiencing second-hand competitiveness.

“But they were fifteen and Dumbledore's eleven.” Ominis reasoned, clearly equally amused that Sebastian was taking this personally.

“I think it's good.” The Keeper interrupted before Sebastian could further argue the point. It wasn't like Ominis was the one who had this opinion, he was merely the messenger. “Anything that takes attention off of me is-”

The words caught in the Keeper's throat as a chill slithered down their spine. Though foreign and new, the sensation was one whose meaning they understood within seconds, and a brief flash of fear crawled across their skin, before quickly burning into rage.

The quizzical expressions on both boys' faces quickly warped into ones of equal alarm when the Keeper took a breath and explained.

“The territory wards have detected intruders on our land.”

Their eyes hardened.

“And a lot of them.”

Chapter Text

The Keeper scanned the bare and rocky mountainside, searching for the unknown trespassers that their wards had alerted them to. So far, all they’d seen were several wild goats sleeping amongst the boulders or prancing away across the loose stone gravel at the sight of the Keeper and their partners.

Unfortunately, they hadn't been able to return to Dìon till the weekend, and every day had been wrought with anxiety, bracing to bolt from Hogwarts, regardless of when and where they were, if the wards indicated any move from the intruders to approach Dìon castle.

Fortunately, however, the intruding party had kept their movements mostly restricted to the sea-facing side of the mountain west of Dìon. What on earth were they doing up here?

"Hang on, I hear something." Ominis called out, drawing Sebastian and the Keeper's attention, he gestured off towards the side of the path. "It came from over there."

The Keeper and Sebastian approached the spot Ominis had pointed at, finding that it was a blind corner and that there was a path hidden behind some boulders.

As they set upon the path, a deep and thundering roar shook the mountain side.

The Keeper froze, that sounded oddly familiar.

"Hey, wait!" Sebastian called out as the Keeper shot forward, sprinting towards the source of the roar.

As the Keeper rounded a bend along the mountain trail, another roar split the air and a man garbed in familiar clothing flew past, flailing and screaming as his body was thrown off the cliff.

"Poachers!?" Sebastian exclaimed as he caught up, Ominis close on his heels.

Forgoing an answer, the Keeper flung themselves into battle, throwing a Confringo at the unguarded back of the nearest poacher. Their eyes flickered across the stone shelf, sizing up the situation, spotting no less than ten poachers and a large dragon backed up against the steep mountainside.

A large and familiar dragon.

The great and noble beast was severely injured, blood streaming from its side and one of its wings hanging from its body at an awkward angle, as it blew fire at the attacking poachers. Fury ripped through the Keeper, and they threw a cruciatus curse at the exposed back of the Poacher Executioner leading the Poacher pack.

Not only did these scum dare to trespass on their territory, they also dared harm a Hebridean Black. The self-same dragon that the Keeper had freed with Poppy, in fact!

Without missing a beat, Sebastian followed the Keeper’s lead and joined in, throwing an imperious curse at another Poacher. Forcing her to attack and dispatch two of her allies, before they knew what hit them, and then promptly commit suicide with a well-placed diffindo at her own throat.

Meanwhile the Keeper turned their wand on the next opponent, throwing a bombarda at their target and blowing the side of his head wide open, splattering the comrade to his left with grey matter.

Ominis wasn't very pleased to hear the use of Unforgivables in his presence, but at the moment, he was more concerned with the fact that there was a bloody dragon right in front of them. Literally. He cast a depulso on one of the poachers, throwing the woman backwards and off the side of the cliff with a scream. They had to get rid of the poachers quickly before they could figure out what to do about that.

He would chew his lovers out later, when they were safe.

The remaining Poachers spun about to face the newcomers in alarm, realising that they were now pincered between an angry dragon and the Keeper's party. The trespassers retaliated, shooting reductos and expulsos at the Keeper and their partners.

Sebastian easily sidestepped a diffindo, before he and the Keeper began raining a barrage of curses back at the poachers as the intruders spread out across the rocky high mountain outcrop. Though, amusingly enough, it seemed that one of the poachers had managed to forget about the dragon behind them, stepping backwards into its range and was summarily flattened under a large and clawed paw.

Flinging a confringo through the air, the Keeper dodged, and rolled towards Ominis, throwing up a protego to block a bombarda rushing towards him, before countering with a stupefy that threw the poacher backwards onto his ass. With a shrill shriek, the man's head was quickly crushed in the maw of the dragon.

On the other side, Sebastian jumped back, narrowly dodging a killing curse, a vicious grin splitting his face as he fired right back with his own, the bright green spell hitting his target and dropping the poacher dead on his feet. Oh, how he'd missed the thrill of battle.

To his right, yet another poacher attempted to cast the levitation charm at the Keeper while they were casting their counter but barely got the Levi out, before she was stopped by a depulso from Ominis. The purple hued charm throwing the poacher right into the line of the dragon's fire.

As he did so, the Keeper cast an accio, pulling a poacher over by their robes, while Sebastian cast a depulso on another, slamming the two together. Before Ominis cast a levitation charm at the two dazed Poachers, holding them suspended in the air for the dragon to roast.

With that last burst of fire, the dragon collapsed to the floor, evidently drained of its ability to fight.

The last two poachers attempted to flee past the dragon, now that it was down, but the Keeper used their Ancient Magic to throw a boulder at one, hearing a satisfying crack as the large rock shattered her spine. While Sebastian cast a well-aimed diffindo at the other, slicing his head clean off. Well, at least if that guy became a ghost, he'd be able to join the Headless Hunt.

With the last of the poachers dead, the Keeper sprinted over to the dragon, ignoring Sebastian and Ominis' alarmed warnings.

The Keeper slowed as they neared the large creature, crouched and reached a hand out towards the dragon's snout carefully. "Hey, remember me?"

The dragon growled lowly but didn't move away or attack, simply continuing to lie there, her large chest rising and falling with laboured breaths, quietly allowing the Keeper to rest their hand on the side of its head.

Her sleek black scales were far too cool, the last time they met, the Keeper could feel the heat radiating off the dragon's hide even from a distance. They examined the dragon's blood covered side, the gash was rough and jagged, more like something a pointed object would do, rather than a spell or a blade. Thick and dark blood pooled in the dips on the floor, its rusty stench permeating the air, and every rattling breath from the dragon came accompanied by a fine reddish mist.

The Keeper glanced around, spotting a bloodstained and pointed rock jutting out from the side of the mountain, as well as the broken remains of chains and shackles scattered about. Perhaps while trying to fight off the restraints, she had injured herself upon the stone, or perhaps it had been intentional.

A pang of sympathy washed over the Keeper, aye, they too would probably rather fight till the death than to be captured and used by humans for entertainment.

"A- are you alright?" Ominis' worried voice caught their attention, and the dragon growled aggressively as he and Sebastian approached tentatively.

"It's okay, they're friends..." The Keeper murmured, stroking the side of the dragon soothingly and feeling it relax slightly in response. "Yes, I'm alright, I rescued this dragon from the Poacher Pack with Poppy in fifth-year."

"With Poppy!?" Sebastian's eyes widened with shock, before smiling wryly at the Keeper. "I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised, crazy things often happen around you."

Ominis shook his head helplessly, how did he end up saddled with two reckless idiots who flocked to danger like a Niffler in a jewellery shop?

"Omi, do you think we can do anything for her?" The Keeper asked, turning their gaze towards her injury.

Ominis took a few cautious steps forward. "I can try, but I don't know much about beasts..."

The dragon gave a deep growl when Ominis raised his wand towards it, and he flinched, lowering it slightly while the Keeper soothed the dragon, before trying again, this time without protest from her.

He waved his wand over the dragon, casting a quick Diagnosa. Ominis felt his heart sink at the readings the spell was returning. If this were a human, they'd have no chance of recovery. He couldn’t be sure about a dragon, but the low percentage of blood left in its body was not encouraging.

"I- I'm sorry, I don't think we can help her, she's lost too much blood, and I don't think we can get enough replenishing potion in her in time. If such a potion would even work on a dragon." Ominis shook his head, his voice thick with regret and remorse.

The Keeper lowered their head, feeling their teeth grind together in frustration and anguish. Once again, they were being forced to watch someone they'd come to care for slip away. Fig, Lodgok, and now the dragon who'd managed to see what little good they could still carry in their cynical and selfish heart. Yet another, who’d chosen to trust them.

A burning anxiety flickered within the Keeper's chest, stealing the air from their lungs. If they lost Sebastian or Ominis, it would surely hurt far worse. No, they would not let that happen. No effort or craven deed was too much to ensure that they would never have to experience that.

This, the Keeper vowed to themselves.

The three jumped as the dragon abruptly began to shift, stepping back as she rolled onto her side and, to their horror, began to dig her own claws into the large open wound. Blood gushed from her side and the dragon roared in pain.

"What in Merlin's nam-" Ominis gasped, covering his nose and mouth at the new spray of iron filling the air. Even Sebastian's face paled and contorted in disbelief.

The Keeper's mind raced, trying to understand the dragon's actions. Surely, she understood that they were not going to harm her? What was she doing!?

As the dragon ripped and tore at the gash in her side, the Keeper noticed something shifting under her scales.

With a roar, the dragon tugged a final time and a round glob of viscera fell out from her side, landing on the floor with a wet splat. The dragon slumped to the floor limply, her chest heaving with heavy and tired pants.

The Keeper stared at the round object resting in the pool of blood. Could it be!?

The dragon lifted her head, using her tongue to lap gently at the object, cleaning the sticky red fluid from it and revealing a familiar scaly purple egg.

She'd used her body to hide her egg from the poachers, to keep it safe and warm. The Keeper felt a surge of respect for the dragon. Such love, such self-sacrifice.

"Is that an egg?" Sebastian breathed, his voice filled with shock and wonder.

A moment later, the Keeper felt their jaw slacken when the dragon slowly nudged the egg, rolling it across the floor towards them with a soft warble.

Irony was bitter on their tongue and sickening to the stomach, to think that the egg they'd rescued for the dragon would return to them in the worst way possible.

The Keeper had wanted to keep it then.

Now they wished they didn't have to.

They shook themselves out of it quickly. Regardless of how disgusting it felt, this was a great responsibility being entrusted to them and one deserving of a worthy response.

The Keeper bowed, going down on one knee and meeting the dragon's brilliant purple eyes. "I swear to you, I will ensure that your young will be safe and well taken care of."

The dragon regarded the Keeper for a moment and, despite not speaking the same language, they somehow felt like their sentiments had been conveyed. Heaving a satisfied breath, the exhausted dragon laid her head on the floor and relaxed her large, scaled body.

Forcing their trembling hands to still, the Keeper gently scooped the scaled egg into their arms, feeling the warm pulsing heat radiating from its surface as they sat down cross legged beside the dragon. Uncaring of the blood that seeped into their clothing, they cradled the bloody egg in their lap and stroked the dragon's snout as her breathing gradually slowed.

Sebastian and Ominis stood solemnly behind them, offering the Keeper their silent support as the seconds ticked by slowly, the heat in the dragon's breath cooling and the spark of life fading from those slitted orbs.

A moment after the dragon took her last breath, Sebastian hesitantly commented. "Um, hey, I know I don’t know much about dragons, but I’m fairly certain that that’s not how they lay eggs."

Ominis promptly smacked him on the head and stooped to place a comforting hand on the Keeper's shoulder. "I'm sorry for the loss of your friend..."

They took a deep breath, stroking their hand across the dragon’s snout with a sad smile. “She laid her egg long ago, Poppy and I rescued it from the Poachers and returned it to her after helping her escape captivity.”

“I see… that’s why she trusted you.” Sebastian nodded in understanding, before asking. "...should we bury her?"

The Keeper stood slowly, cradling the egg carefully in their arms, and considering their new responsibility. Gazing down at the dragon, they thought of her determination to protect her child and shook their head.

"No, we will harvest whatever materials we can from her..." The two boys wore incredulous expressions at the Keeper's declaration. "...and use the money we get from her to care for her child. I believe she would have wanted this."

Ominis still looked rather disturbed by the idea, but Sebastian nodded his head in agreement. "You're right. She already gave her life protecting her egg, there's no value greater than that."

The Keeper carried the egg over to Ominis, took his hand and placed it on the warm surface, allowing him to feel the thumping heartbeat under the scaled shell.

He sighed. "I see your point... we'll need to get what it needs quickly and that will cost us."

Sebastian's eyes widened in surprise. “You're agreeing? That easily?”

Ominis rolled his eyes. “Our lover just swore to personally see to the care of their friend's child. I'm not so callous as to disregard the weight of such a promise.”

Pleased to have his agreement and uncertain how to thank him for understanding, the Keeper placed a grateful kiss against his cheek, before taking a step back and speaking clearly. "Tynx, Tibsy."

The two elves popped into being beside them, and Tibsy squeaked in horror as her tiny shoes splashed in the blood on the floor, Tynx barely flinched but his expression appeared equally as disturbed by their surroundings.

“Master... what-” Tynx began uncertainly, cutting himself off and turning his attention to the Keeper, seeking answers from them rather than the environment.

The Keeper smiled in approval, that instinctive trust was exactly what they wanted from their elves. “I apologise for summoning the two of you to do such a ghastly deed, but I will need both your aid to harvest and store parts from this dragon.”

Following the Keeper's gesture, the elves set their wide-eyed gazes upon the large carcass and Tibsy began to sway alarmingly. Fortunately, Ominis seemed to have seen this coming and stooped to catch her before she collapsed into the blood.

“Tibsy!” Tynx exclaimed in alarm and shuffled to her side quickly. That was also good, loyalty to each other would help them work better together. Hopefully, Penny would fit in fine with these two.

Tibsy shook her head, struggling to regain her footing with Ominis’ supporting hand under her elbow. “Tibsy- Tibsy is being sorry Master!”

“It's quite alright, Tibsy. Do you think you will be able to handle helping with such a task?” The Keeper asked gently. “I'd like you to be honest and tell me if you can't.”

“Tib- Tibsy can!” The small elf nodded her head furiously, and the Keeper was quite pleased that she was clearly trying to work through her unsurprising aversion to gore.

“I appreciate the effort, but I don't want you to push yourself. If you feel unwell, you are to take a break.” The Keeper instructed with a small smile.

“Look Tibsy, it's nothing different from what you do, gutting fish in the kitchen and all.” Sebastian leaned down to pat the small elf on the head with what he probably thought was a reassuring grin. “Just that the fish is now bigger. And a lizard. And every part of it is valuable.”

“Sebastian-” Ominis hissed through clenched teeth, when small goosebumps rose on Tibsy's spindly arm.

“What?” Sebastian, naturally, didn't seem to have noticed, and once again, Ominis promptly smacked the buffoon with his free hand.

As this occurred, the Keeper had turned to Tynx, who was gazing worriedly at Tibsy, and added, despite knowing that he would do so even without instruction. “Tynx, keep an eye on her and see that she rests if need be.”

The elder elf gave them a grateful nod and the Keeper saw him pause in easily discerned hesitation.

“What is it?” They asked, it was fairly obvious what he wanted, but they waited for him to take the initiative.

The elf's eyes flickered to the headless body collapsed a few metres away, before finally speaking. “May I ask what happened here?”

“You may.” The Keeper nodded with a faint smile. “This dragon gave her life defending herself and her egg from these poachers. I plan to sell her parts to raise the child she sacrificed herself for.”

Tynx and Tibsy, who had also been listening, stared at the purple scaled egg cradled carefully in the Keeper's arms, their big eyes wide with shock, as the realisation that they would be helping to raise a dragon sank in. The Keeper watched the elves carefully, gauging their response, it would be problematic if their servants had a fear of dragons after all.

“Master should be hurrying home!” Tibsy exclaimed, wringing her hands worriedly. “Mountain is cold and baby eggies must be warm. Master can leave mommy dragon to us!”

Tynx silently removed his suit’s tailed coat and offered it to the Keeper, who blinked at him in surprise for a moment, before accepting it with a smile and wrapping the bloodstained egg in the heavy cloth.

“Thank you, Tynx and Tibsy.” The Keeper nodded approvingly. “The parts can be stored in the Keep for now and the bodies of the poachers cast into the ocean.”

“Yes, Master.” Tynx bowed his head and Tibsy nodded.

“Where will we put the egg though?” Ominis asked with a small frown.

“The Poacher Pack kept it in a cage, over a fire, when Poppy and I rescued it from them.” The Keeper recalled.

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “We can probably place it on the wood stove then.”

“Good thing you finished installing that last weekend.” The Keeper smiled fondly, setting that up had had Sebastian running all over the building, routing pipes through the floor that would spread heat from the wood stoves all throughout the castle.

Sebastian shrugged. “It's not winter yet, but heating takes priority and it'd be rubbish if we had to spend our Christmas holidays patching up any problems with the system in the cold. Magic’s great, but if we keep using warming charms, we’ll be exhausted in no time.”

“Indeed.” The Keeper nodded with a dry chuckle, placing the wrapped egg carefully into their satchel and removing their nab-sack to summon Sepulchria. “Let us be off then.”

After the two boys were seated securely behind them, the Thestral took to the air, leaving the battle torn outcrop behind.

"So, now what?” Sebastian turned to his partners and folded his arms. The three of them stood before a stove bearing a contraption he’d thrown together from sticks and wires, and in which the cleaned egg now rested, suspended over an open flame. “I don't know much about dragons, let alone how to take care of one.”

“Might there be books in the library on dragon care?” The Keeper suggested in an uncharacteristically tepid manner.

“Wait, you don’t have a plan?” Ominis blinked in surprise.

“Not really, but I’m not going back on my word, so we’ll just have to wing it.” The Keeper shrugged.

“Heh, wing it.” Sebastian laughed and Ominis gave a tired sigh.

“So, books?” The Keeper prodded Sebastian again.

“Ah, yes, right. Hmm, in the restricted section perhaps, since raising dragons is illegal.” Sebastian answered after a moment’s thought. “We might be able to get the recipe for a milk substitute and some basics, but I doubt there'll be a comprehensive guide to dragon raising in there. Such a thing is usually a family trade.”

“We don't even know what breed of dragon this is.” Ominis shook his head with a concerned frown.

“Oh, it's a Hebridean Black.” The Keeper provided, before their eyes widened in realisation. “Poppy recognised the dragon mother’s breed immediately upon sight, perhaps she might know more on dragon care.”

“That's right, Poppy did mention that her parents are poachers, she might have some experience or knowledge of how to care for illegal magical beasts.” Ominis’ voice was cautiously hopeful.

“Poppy's parents are poachers!?” Sebastian exclaimed in shock. “Really?”

“Yes, well, it's not something she'd proudly proclaim now is it. For obvious reasons.” Ominis sighed.

“You don't say.” Sebastian shook his head. “Still... she's definitely going to be suspicious if we just up and ask her how to raise a dragon.”

“I think... we can trust her with this.” The Keeper murmured and Sebastian gave them a surprised look.

“Didn't you say you don't want her to know about Dìon till the castle is completed?” Sebastian asked.

“Well, we can't bring the egg to Hogwarts either. That's far too dangerous.” Ominis pointed out.

“We can work around that by bringing Poppy and the egg to Feldcroft.” The Keeper suggested.

“Oh, that’s a good idea, can’t believe I didn’t think of that.” Sebastian shook his head, pausing for a moment before adding. “Are we going to tell Poppy about the mother?”

Surprisingly enough, it was Ominis who shook his head. “I don’t think we should tell her. It wouldn’t change our plans, and she would only feel conflicted, knowing that we’re engaging in poacher-like behaviour.”

“Oh, now you understand where I was coming from.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Ominis folded his arms and frowned in Sebastian's general direction. “Oh, don't misunderstand me, I still think what you did was wrong. In fact, what I'm suggesting is also wrong. Lying by omission is no different than lying outright, and that's hurtful.”

Sebastian blinked at him for a moment, seeming quite thrown by that response, when Ominis eyes softened. “But yes, I do understand that you were just doing your best to avoid hurting me, just as I'm suggesting we do for Poppy.”

With a wry smile, Ominis shook his head. “If I hadn't understood that, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive you for it.”

Sebastian's eyes went wide, before sliding off to the side, while a small, happy, yet almost embarrassed smile formed on his lips.

“Well, I agree, we can’t be certain how she’ll react. And frankly, I'm more concerned about how we're going to sell the dragon parts in the first place.” The Keeper shook their head.

“Oh, that's right, while they're worth a lot of money, Dragon parts and eggs are classified as Non-Tradeable Materials so it's not like we can just sell ‘em on the regular market.” Sebastian grimaced.

“We'd have better luck fencing them to actual Poachers since they would already have established contacts with people who would buy such items.” The Keeper too, grimaced in distaste. The idea of having dealings with that crowd after all their history was unpleasant, but they couldn't afford to be picky on this.

“I suppose beggars can't be choosers.” Ominis murmured, clearly having come to the same conclusion.

“Well, we can discuss this further after searching the library and consulting Poppy.” The Keeper shook their head. “We need more information. We can invite her to visit Feldcroft tomorrow, during the Animagus class with Natty tonight.”

“I'll drop by the Restricted Section tonight, after the lesson, to see if I can find the recipe for a milk substitute.” Sebastian nodded.

“Good idea, I'll go with you to help with the search.” The Keeper agreed.

“Tomorrow's already Sunday… I'll help Penny with preparing the store for the Monday opening this evening, since we’ll need to move our wares into it after speaking with Poppy at Feldcroft. So, you two can focus on your search tonight.” Ominis chimed in.

“Much appreciated, thank you.” The Keeper gave him a grateful nod. “Alright, it's a plan.”

The two boys nodded and the Keeper bit back a sigh. They were already so busy furnishing and setting up the castle, training as Animagi and in wandless magic, learning Ancient Magic and studying for their NEWTs. They really hoped it wouldn't be too difficult, adding care for the baby dragon on top of all that, at least they had now a third elf to help out around the castle.

“Norwegian Ridgebacks drink chicken's blood and brandy? That is both gross and disturbing.” The Keeper grimaced as Sebastian read aloud from the book they'd found, Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit.

The three lovers were sitting, as always, in the otherwise empty common room, Sebastian in a single armchair beside a couch that Ominis and the Keeper were seated upon together.

“At least that's not too hard to acquire, hopefully it'll be the same for Hebridean Blacks...” Ominis flashed a wry smile.

“No such luck there, I'm afraid.” Sebastian sighed, tracing his finger across the page. “Says here that our dragon chick will need a spoonful of Re'em blood in a quart of mead.”

“Excuse me, but did you just say Re'em?” Ominis’ tone was absolutely appalled.

“Yeaap.” Sebastian drew out the end of the word, ending it with a disheartened pop.

“Let me guess.” The Keeper commented dryly. “Rare and expensive.”

“And a regulated material at that, since Re'em are an endangered magical beast species under protection.” Sebastian added.

“Right. Of course.” The Keeper sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over their face. Great, another problem that needed solving.

“Well, at least Poppy accepted our invitation to visit Feldcroft tomorrow.'' Despite the attempt at optimism, Sebastian's tone was flat and drained of enthusiasm. “That's something.”

“Yeah...” The Keeper sighed again, leaning to their left and resting against Ominis, feeling him brush his fingers comfortingly through their hair. “We don't have much time. It's been two years, and the book says that an egg that has gone for over three years, without hatching, may never do so.”

With a frustrated groan, the Keeper buried their face in the crook of Ominis’ neck, murmuring in a strained voice against his collar. “…unfortunately, we don't know how old the egg was when Poppy and I rescued her, so we can’t afford to wait till we graduate.”

“At least we know how to hatch a dragon egg now. We can begin the process tomorrow, after Poppy's visit, and teach Tibsy how to keep the temperature fluctuating like a dragon's breath.” Ominis pressed a kiss to the Keeper's forehead and held them close, rubbing a hand over their back.

“Yeah, according to the book, if we start tomorrow, the egg should hatch after about two weeks.” Sebastian nodded as he closed the book in his lap. “The dragon must have known that the more time passes after a year, the lower the egg's chances of hatching. Yet she left it in its shell this whole time.”

“Probably because she couldn't find somewhere safe enough.” Ominis murmured, brows furrowed in sympathy.

The Keeper nodded, inadvertently nuzzling their cheek against his clothing. “I don't think it's a coincidence that she only showed up alongside the poachers trespassing on our land. There wasn't any indication of a dragon living on that mountain before. She must have been chased here. Those poachers were probably tracking her the whole time after Poppy and I got her out.”

“Can't imagine being on the run with a baby for two years...” Sebastian shook his head, his jaw tight. “Damn those blasted poachers.”

“Goes to show how unbearable her own experience must have been. Better to never hatch, than to be born into captivity.” The Keeper released their third sigh.

They'd be lucky if Poppy even knew anything that would help with raising a dragon. No, they'd likely need to find a means of feeding the dragon chick themselves. Maybe they could kidnap a poacher and interrogate them...

“Re'em blood?” Poppy blinked. “Oh, I know a guy who trades the stuff.”

The Keeper, Sebastian and Ominis all felt their jaws go slack at her casual declaration.

“I'm sorry, but could you run that by us again?” Sebastian asked in a voice thin with disbelief.

Poppy shifted uncomfortably and her eyes averted, focusing instead on the egg resting on a grate in the fireplace, and her expression was fairly abashed as she elaborated. “I'm not sure if they told you, but my parents are poachers and they raised me under the assumption that I'd be... joining the family business.”

She grimaced. “My uncle, twice removed, peddles the wares of the trade in a private room at a pub-cum-inn in Knockturn Alley on Saturday, during the night. The Phantom's Flask, is what the pub's called, third floor, room thirteen.”

“Are you sure about this?” The Keeper asked cautiously.

“Yes, you made a promise to this little one's mother, that you would take care of it, and I know well how that feels.” Poppy's smile was gentle and nostalgic, perhaps recalling how she’d rescued Highwing, and the decisions that precipitated her rebellion against her parents. “May she rest in peace... Would you take me to visit her grave sometime?”

“Of course.” The Keeper nodded.

“Thank you, Poppy, for helping us with this.” Ominis placed a hand over his heart with a grateful smile. “It means a lot to us.”

The girl beamed bright at his words. “And I'm happy to have been trusted with this secret. I'll do whatever I can to help, and I'm glad, if anything, that my shameful background can be of some use.”

The Keeper grimaced. “In contrast, I feel like mine is going to be a bit of a problem.”

At the confused expressions, the Keeper elaborated. “Thanks to Rookwood and Harlow, my face is likely well known in Poaching circles. Your uncle might be wary of having dealings with me.”

“That's true...” Poppy frowned, pausing for a moment. “…I'd offer to go, but...”

The four of them grimaced in varying degrees of distaste at the very thought, before Sebastian cleared his throat.

“I ca-” Sebastian began.

“No.” Both Ominis and the Keeper interjected in unison, before he could even finish his sentence.

“Oh, come on.” Sebastian grumbled, while Poppy giggled at his sulky expression.

After several minutes had passed in silence, Ominis sighed. “I'll go. I'm familiar enough with the manner in which such underworld deals are made, thanks to my own... stellar upbringing.”

The Keeper grimaced, it was basically their only option, but the thought of sending Ominis into the lion's den lay bitter on their tongue. “I'll tail you from a distance and remain downstairs in the pub, in case you need assistance.”

Ominis nodded, his expression stony, and Sebastian frowned, opening his mouth once more. “Then I'll-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No, Sebastian.”

“Nnnng!”

“Oh, I almost forgot, music! You should play music for the egg. And make sure it gets lots of fresh air and keep the mood light around it.” Poppy added, to the absurdly long list of requirements for a healthy baby dragon, as the Keeper walked her back to the Feldcroft floo, where she could return to Hogwarts after their discussion.

“Mood?” The Keeper cocked a quizzical eyebrow.

“Yes, no arguments or raised voices about it, treat it like a human baby.” Poppy explained and the Keeper gave her a flat stare in return. Did she really think they, of all people, would know how a human baby was supposed to be treated?

“I... see.” The Keeper nodded after a moment, well, at least they could probably do something about the music, perhaps it'd be worth investing in a phonograph.

Oh, they'd been thinking about making a more subtle intruder alert chime of sorts for the castle doors, perhaps they could repurpose the phonograph for a door chime when the egg was hatched.

“Thank you, Poppy. I don't know what we would have done without your help.” The Keeper smiled, they'd never have had this problem without Poppy, but they'd also never have had this solution either, and despite the immense responsibility the egg presented, they didn't really regret the path they'd taken to get here. “Would you... like to be there when the egg hatches?”

“You are most welcome.” Poppy gave them a wistful smile. “Oh, I do wish I could, but it would probably be better for me not to be present. I wouldn't want to mess up the imprinting process. Dragons are clever creatures and if they see you as family, it'll be easier to take care of it.”

“I see, thank you for your consideration.” The Keeper nodded as they came to a stop beside the floo. “I’ll see you tomorrow in class then.”

With a cheery wave, Poppy stepped into the floo and disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

The Keeper heaved a sigh and began returning to the cottage, it was barely noon and they still had much to do. They were going to introduce Penny to Tibsy and Tynx when they got back to Dìon, and then they would be preparing Vesters and Venum for its opening tomorrow.

They wouldn't be paying the poacher fence a visit till next weekend, so they'd just have to endure the anxiety until then. This was a dangerously tight schedule to be running on, if they didn't succeed in getting Re'em blood next Saturday they wouldn't have food for the newly hatched dragon the weekend after.

Reaching the cottage, the Keeper pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“-and we both know you wouldn't be able to restrain yourself if the man insults me.” Ominis’ lecturing tone easily clued the Keeper in on the topic of their discussion.

“How is that a bad thing!?” Sebastian exclaimed incredulously.

“It's not, and I appreciate it, but it doesn't change the facts, my dear. You're not cut out for this type of bargaining and subterfuge.” Ominis shook his head with a wry smile, and placed a gentle kiss against the brunet's cheek, eliciting a relenting sigh from Sebastian.

“Come darlings, let's not have raised voices by the egg, apparently that's bad for the little one.” The Keeper chuckled, placing a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and the other on Ominis’. “Poppy's orders, the baby is to have music, fresh air and good, er, moods about it.”

“Why do I feel like we just adopted a kid?” Sebastian cocked an eyebrow.

“Probably because we did.” Ominis drawled.

“Just had to pick a kid that can't be tamed or trained, didn't we.” Sebastian sighed dramatically.

“Well, I distantly recall someone saying that children are a gift, guess that means no one really gets to pick.” The Keeper snickered. “Then again, same guy was looking to pick a kid from the orphanage, so I'd take that with a grain of salt.”

“Psssah.” Sebastian scoffed. “Nothing less than a month with a kid is enough to know what you're getting yourself into, picking a kid at an orphanage after a short chat might as well be the same as rolling a dice.”

The Keeper snorted. “Fair. Come on then, let's get this kid back to the castle and into its toasty bed.”

Scooping the egg into their arms and wrapping it in a towel, the Keeper tucked the precious burden into their satchel and headed back out of the cottage with the boys.

“What colour is Penny liking?” Tibsy bounced about excitedly.

Next to her, Penny's eyes roved over the many bolts of coloured fabric, rolled up upon the shelves of the textiles shop in Diagon Alley, with some uncertainty.

“You don't need to hold back, Penny.” Tynx reassured her with a small smile. “Our Master is quite generous with their allowance and sincere about wanting you to have a wardrobe that you're comfortable with. As long as it's not neon coloured or dizzyingly patterned, that is.”

“Yes yes, Master is being very kind and good to Tibsy and Tynx!” Tibsy nodded furiously. “Master lets us do what we want when the work is done and lets us use leftover coins for anything we are wanting!”

To the bewilderment of the two elves, Penny's expression only fell further.

“What's wrong?” Tynx decided to ask plainly, since the store was mostly empty, the human cashier dozing off in a chair behind the counter on the other end of the shop.

Their master had given them the evening off to help Penny settle in, after they'd finished transferring their goods to the shop in Hogsmeade, and they'd decided to start off with getting Penny something classy to wear around the castle. Her current clothing was fine for tending a shop, but unacceptable for attending their owner, Tynx couldn't abide by something chequered flashing about the castle.

It was dinnertime for the humans, which left the three elves the space and freedom to move about the textile store without getting caught underfoot and receiving irritated glares for being in the way. Humans were so ignorant to the struggles of those that much smaller than them.

“Penny is...” The white-haired elf shifted uncomfortably, wringing her hands together. “Penny feels unworthy of such kindness. Penny thought the Master would simply have Penny tend the store. Penny didn't think the Master would buy clothing for Penny.”

Tynx nodded in understanding. “Yes, our Master is quite a strange one, but they seem to genuinely care about us.”

“Penny is unsure if that would extend to Penny.” Penny shook her head. “Penny isn't like Tibsy or Tynx.”

She covered her face with her hands. “Penny was a trap, Penny didn't warn Master about the chest in the shop and Master could have died in there. Penny was afraid of punishment, even though Penny hoped for the day that Mistress would no longer own Penny.”

Tynx felt her pain deeply, recalling how wrought with guilt he had been when his previous Master wouldn't allow him to feed his young human daughter. The turmoil he'd felt, torn between fear for his own life and the pain of seeing the little girl, that Tynx had spent more time caring for than her father himself, starving.

“Penny, our Master is not like your old Mistress.” Tynx placed a hand on her shoulder. “Ours understands that you didn't have a choice.”

“But Penny hurt them, by not telling the truth. Penny hurt so many people.” The elf sobbed quietly into her hands. “Penny is a terrible person!”

Tibsy, who'd been standing uncertainly beside Penny, now wrapped her arms around the other elf. “No, Penny is wrong! Penny had a terrible Mistress, Penny is not bad!”

“Nobody here blames you for what you were forced to do, Penny.” Tynx placed a gentle hand on the younger elf's head. “It's not your fault, you were afraid. Bad people make good people do bad things. That's why we need good people who are strong to stop them.”

Tynx smiled as Penny lowered her hands from her face. “Our Master is strong. Our Master stops bad people from doing bad things. You will be safe with us. You don't need to be afraid anymore.”

Penny's brown eyes were wide, and at his words, they began brimming with tears again. “Thank you... Penny- Penny will do her best to be worthy of this second chance!”

Tibsy beamed and took out a small aqua handkerchief from her pocket to offer Penny. “Tibsy is happy to have Penny here! Tibsy can help Penny make nice clothes and then Tibsy can show Penny the nice animals!”

“That's right, our Master's first and only obligation for Tibsy and I, was to wear nice clothes that we like.” Tynx nodded. “So, we can start with what colour Penny likes.”

Wiping away her tears with Tibsy's handkerchief, Penny nodded with a wistful expression. “Penny... Penny likes green.”

She ran her gaze across the racks of fabric, before picking out a soft turquoise bolt of cotton, with small faded green flower patterns scattered across the cloth. “Penny can make a dress with this.”

Tynx nodded in approval, a simple design and a colour that is gentle on the eyes, the Master would be pleased.

He smiled as Tibsy dragged Penny over to the cashier. Tibsy had proven herself stronger than he'd expected, yesterday while they were carving up the dragon, and Penny had shown herself to be hardworking earlier. Now, he knew too that she was kind at heart and a gentle soul.

His responsibilities had grown, another person he had to protect. At least that wasn't difficult while they were the Keeper's. He hoped this would never change, and he would do whatever it took to protect their Master.

For the two younger elves in his charge.

Dark and dank. That was the impression the Keeper got, after a mere ten steps into Knockturn Alley. Most of the shops bore no windows or were shrouded in darkness, the occasional signboard bearing shop names, were barely legible in the dim light of the sparse lanterns scattered along the path.

The Keeper had slipped into a corner to don a heavy brown hooded coat, before taking the turn into Knockturn Alley, with the hood raised of course, the better to conceal their identity in the shady alleyway. A quick scan confirmed that the other visitors of the alley were either attired in similarly concealing apparel or were dressed more like Ominis.

Their blind partner was wearing much more... opulent garments, looking every inch the confident pureblood young lord, with his slicked back blond hair and dark emerald bespoke suit. He’d been quite bitter when he recounted to them how his parents had merely sent him an allowance, and the address of their family tailor, upon realising that he'd ran away from home and into the Sallow residence.

Understandably, he hadn't taken his parents' comment, that he should at least maintain appropriate attire even if he refused to return home, very well. He felt it indicated that they cared more about how he reflected upon them than they cared for him. To their chagrin, neither the Keeper nor Sebastian had been able to argue with that interpretation, merely offering him comfort in lieu of words to the contrary.

Still, if he was to leverage his status as a noble, to lend credence and weight to his words, despite his young age during this negotiation, it was quite fortunate to have a tailor whose work would be charged to the Gaunt family accounts.

The Keeper walked slowly, keeping Ominis within their sight as he strode confidently through the alleyway, and occasionally bristling at the looks that the blond got from other denizens of the dark. Some leering at him, others with envious eyes gleaming from under dark hoods, and they had a feeling that some of these figures weren't even human.

Fortunately, his affected confidence and pristine appearance seemed to keep the lurkers at bay, and even more so that Ominis didn't require light to see. Elsewise he might have stumbled, or had to ask for directions, and the Keeper really didn't want Ominis to interact with these people if it was avoidable. His confidence here was very much an act and they didn't want to chance someone finding that out.

The Keeper's on the other hand, was less so, and it only took a few sharp, threatening glares to dissuade any interest in them as they carefully moved across the uneven stone floor of the alley.

Several minutes of tense walking passed before they spied Ominis slipping through the door of a rather large building, the Phantom's Flask was, in fact, a fair bit larger than the Three Broomsticks. Not too surprising perhaps, since the upper floors doubled as an inn.

Following him through the door a few seconds later, the Keeper scanned the surroundings, quickly spotting Ominis as he spoke with a large, muscled man for a moment, before heading up the staircase to the left. At least that was settled, now then...

The pub itself was surprisingly clean, considering how dilapidated the alleyway had been, they'd expected the inside of the building to feel like an even more unpleasant version of the Hog's Head. Instead, it felt a little more like the Three Broomsticks in layout and sitting, albeit much darker in colouring and far dimmer in lighting.

There were a trio of vampires seated at a nearby table drinking from goblets of, presumably, blood. So, it was possible that the pub's dim lighting was for the sake of guests who found light unpleasant.

Around the pub were also several groups of goblins and a few clusters of humans that were clearly dark wizards and witches, from their attire. A table in the rightmost corner had several heavily scarred people seated around it, engaged in rowdy conversation, and they wore very little clothing, revealing what looked like bite marks on each individual. Perhaps werewolves?

All this the Keeper observed, along with the occasional guest that looked more like a creature than a human, as they slowly drifted towards an empty table near the staircase. Where they could hopefully keep the stairway within sight, in case Ominis fled down it and they needed to rush to his aid.

“Hey.” The large man, who'd spoken with Ominis a few moments ago, approached the Keeper before they got to their destination, and they eyed him warily as he did so. “A word of advice, most guests here will be uncomfortable if you keep your hood up. I'm the doorman of this establishment and if you start any trouble, I'll be escorting you out. So, keep any personal grievances outside the premises.”

“Thanks for the advice, I'll keep that in mind.” The Keeper tipped their head respectfully and the large man returned to his position between the door and staircase.

They considered their options as they took a seat at the empty table as planned, in view of the stairway. While they were reluctant to reveal their identity, the Keeper could see that all the other guests were indeed not concealing their faces, and in a situation like this, any insistence on keeping their hood up would inadvertently draw more attention instead.

Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. So, with a sigh, the Keeper lowered their hood.

Almost immediately, one of the men sitting at a table on the left, leapt from his seat. His face was contorted in anger, his hair matted and unwashed, his face haggard and eyes wide with fury as he lunged for the Keeper, seeming to have forgotten the existence of magic in his rage.

“You! You are the reason the Ashwinders are no more!” The man shouted, his expression crazed, and the Keeper was halfway out of their seat when the attacking man dropped to the floor like a rock, not even partway to their table, and lay there unmoving.

Across the room, the large doorman from before flicked his wand and levitated the petrified man through the air, before tossing the man unceremoniously out the door.

“Apologies for the disturbance.” The doorman nodded politely at the guests, and the Keeper returned to their seat, eyeing said doorman with renewed interest.

A nonverbal cast at this distance and at that speed. Impressive, clearly the doorman was as proficient in magic as he appeared to be physically, and it was apparent that the owners knew how to pick their hires well.

Glancing at the other three men who'd been sharing a table with their attacker, the Keeper returned their glares, but the men didn't seem keen on attacking them as recklessly as their less kempt friend, and returned their attention to their own discussions. Perhaps that guy had been more deeply affected by whatever happened to the Ashwinder organisation after Rookwood's death, or perhaps the others simply didn't wish to incur the wrath of the doorman.

Needless to say, it was clear that the rules of this pub were well respected, and that the security was reliable. They'd have to be careful when they were leaving the premises, but at least they were safe in here, which also bode well for Ominis upstairs.

“Hey, kid.” From their right, approached a tall and slender woman with long white-gold hair that flowed in waves down to her narrow waist, and the skin peeking out from under her uniform and apron almost seemed to glow in the candlelight.

Her beautiful features contrasted heavily with the indifferent scowl painted across her face and her deep blue eyes flicked up and down the Keeper, as though sizing them up. “Can I get you something? Milk perhaps?”

The Keeper cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes. “What's with that look? Oh, I know, strawberry milk, right?”

When the Keeper continued to stare impassively at her, she gave them a sharp toothed grin and set the mug she’d been holding down on the table. “Just kidding, here's some complimentary water. That'll be fifty galleons.”

An amused snort escaped the Keeper, but no further response was given, and the woman heaved a heavy sigh. “Ugh, tough crowd.”

Then, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent down to rest her elbows on the table, a sweet scent drifted through the air, and her position placed her ample cleavage on full display. Her voice lowered into a more sultry tone and her tongue lightly traced her lower lip. “Or can I get you something a little... sweeter?”

In response, the Keeper plucked the mug of water from the table and raised it in her direction with a nod. “This is sweet enough, thanks.”

The woman stared at them, jaw hanging like a marionette that’d lost a string, utter shock painted across her delicate features. “You’re-”

“Fine. Thanks.” The Keeper interjected with a tight smile.

Taking the... hint, the woman gave a dazed nod, before distancing herself from the Keeper's table with an almost lost expression.

Shaking their head, the Keeper regarded the mug of water warily. They gave it a sniff, nothing. Still, there were many odourless and colourless poisons, and potions they wouldn’t want to ingest, such as Veritaserum. No, it wasn't worth the risk.

Setting their mug back down on the table, the Keeper sighed. They'd been here for a mere handful of minutes, and they hadn't had even a quiet moment to themselves.

Perhaps a boring wait was too much to hope for, they thought dryly to themselves as a goblin left one of the other tables and approached theirs. The Keeper eyed him with a carefully neutral gaze as the heavyset goblin stopped beside their table.

“I'd like to discuss something with you, may I sit?” The goblin waved a hand towards the seat across from them.

His tone was polite and his voice deep and rough, his clothing looked like those of a blacksmith and his build was powerful, even for a goblin. He looked like a single swing of the large hammer strapped to his back could fling a human clean across a stream.

The Keeper gave him a slow and cautious nod.

With a small smile, the goblin seated himself and placed his elbows on the table. “I'd wondered what Ranrok's slayer would look like, a child who could take down a monster like that. I thought you'd look more terrifying and disturbing.”

The Keeper's eyes narrowed. “And who's asking?”

“Apologies, where are my manners?” The goblin chuckled. “The name's Borgok.”

“I'm Ranrok's uncle.”

Chapter Text

“I'm Ranrok's uncle.”

The Keeper tensed immediately and Borgok gave a deep laugh, raising his hands and revealing palms decorated with callouses, as he bared his teeth in a sharp grin. “Peace child, I have no quarrel with you.”

“In fact, I am... grateful for what you did.” He lowered his hands to rest on the table once more with a sigh, his expression pensive and sober. “Killing Lodgok showed us all that Ranrok had lost his purpose. His lofty goal of elevating our people giving way to pure lust for war and death.”

At his words, the Keeper relaxed. While they didn't necessarily believe him, yet, it would be better to give him the impression that they did. “You don't share the same desires that he had? For goblin supremacy.”

“I did... for some time, even served as one of Ranrok's Loyalists. But now… Now, I'd just like to be regarded by humans as equals, and for them to respect our customs. That would be enough for me.” A wistful smile formed on his wrinkled face. “Lodgok shared similar sentiments with me, before his passing... he trained under me and to lose the lad, to our own family, not even to a human...”

Borgok heaved a pained sigh.

“I see.” The Keeper nodded slowly, an unsurprising sentiment, but that still didn't explain what the goblin wanted from them. “You have my condolences. Lodgok was a dear friend to me, but your grief must surely be deeper, for he was family.”

“Thank you.” Borgok returned that slow nod with an equally solemn lowering of his head. “Losing the boy, after all the years I spent training him in the art of crafting... I suppose you could say it taught me the weariness of war.”

A wry smile formed on Borgok's lips. “Lodgok spoke well of you, before he was murdered. A human who was both strong and noble, one who looked at him as an equal rather than a lesser. A person he trusted.”

The Keeper felt a deep pang of guilt in their chest as he spoke, recalling the mournful manner in which their goblin friend had spoken his last words.

I was bringing it to you.

The regret they'd felt was beyond description, when they were forced to leave Lodgok's body behind and escape the collapsing mine, blasts of red and black slamming into the crumbling floor and walls as they fled. The knowledge that he’d died trying to get information for them haunting their steps.

“Which brings me to the topic I wished to discuss with you.” Borgok's eyes met the Keeper's as he spoke. “I am no warrior. I'm a metalsmith, and when I served in Ranrok's army, I lent him my hammer, crafted weapons and tools for him. In the wake of Ranrok's failures, I no longer wished to craft the tools of death and so I have lent my skill to another.”

To another, the Keeper's eyes narrowed.

“For many centuries, we've attempted to fight for equality. Hundreds of rebellions and decades of war, yet we have made no progress, only served to deepen wizardkind's hatred for us.” Borgok shook his head, his expression changing to one of resolve and determination. “As such, the wiser of our kind have set their sights on economic victory instead. We shall make ourselves indispensable to wizardkind, that they may come to need us, to rely upon us. Perhaps then, we will have equality.”

The Keeper's eyebrows rose.

“It is the harder path, the slower and less satisfying one. So, naturally, there are those who are impatient and angry, like Ranrok was, my foolish nephew.” Borgok shook his head once more. “I would ask that you help me quell one such rising rebellion leader. Lest he successfully start a war with the wizarding world and throw us back into the cycle of blood and death, setting us back in our economic progress.”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, well, that was quite an ask. “I see where you're coming from and you have my sympathy, but this is no small request. What makes you think I can even do anything about him?”

Borgok chuckled knowingly. “Your reputation precedes you, child. I know full well how powerful you are, the armour I craft are not cheap tin. Yet the rare few that made it back from an encounter with you bore such grievous injury, as though they’d worn mere parchment into battle.”

The Keeper couldn't quite suppress their grin at his words. “Fair enough, still, I would be taking on extreme risk by aiding you. Ranrok was after both my life and property, so I had no choice but to engage him. I bear no such obligation here, if you want my assistance, you will need to make it worth the danger.”

The goblin nodded. “That is reasonable, what might you desire as compensation then?”

The Keeper folded their arms, that was a good question.

Seeing their indecision, Borgok smiled. “Tell you what, as a token of goodwill, I'll gift you something to sweeten the deal. Opportunity.”

The Keeper cocked an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“This pub is more than a mere gathering place.” Borgok elaborated, gesturing towards the bar where a tall elder gentleman was wiping a glass with some cloth. “That there, is the owner of this establishment. Order a glass of Strawberry Milk with a Shot of Brandy and a Cinnamon Stick. And then ask him for Borgok's bounty request and tell him I'm open for green.”

The Keeper glanced at the bar. Bounty request. That meant that this bar was a place one could put out bounties, a prickle of excitement crept up their spine, and take them. A source of freelance work. They were already taking requests in and around Hogwarts, but the kind of work for bounty hunters would surely be more lucrative than what children and villagers had to offer.

Albeit likely more dangerous too, but still.

“Alright.” The Keeper gave him a nod and stood.

Borgok waved a hand leisurely as they left the table. “Take your time.”

Striding over to the bar, the Keeper slid onto a barstool and the bartender moved over to attend them, setting down the glass he'd been cleaning.

The aged man had neatly combed back white hair, and curious black eyes that examined them from behind a tiny pair of round spectacles as he approached. He wore a simple but elegant suit that didn't quite disguise the powerful build beneath it, with an apron around his waist and a pair of white gloves.

His voice was deep and gravelly, as he greeted them with a polite smile. “Good evening, what can I get you?”

“Strawberry Milk with a Shot of Brandy and a Cinnamon Stick.” The Keeper replied curtly, restraining their excitement with some difficulty.

“Welcome to the Phantom Mercenaries, it's been a while since we've had a new face seeking to join our guild.” The bartender hummed, his expression unreadable as he began mixing, assumably, the requested drink. By hand, to their surprise, asking casually. “I couldn’t help but notice that you weren't affected by my waitress’ Veela charm. You don’t look quite that young. I take it you're only attracted to specific people or men exclusively?”

“I fail to see how that's any of your business.” The Keeper replied evenly. So, that woman was a creature. That explained the shock when her advances failed to garner a response from them.

The bartender chuckled. “Strictly-business sort, I see. Very well then. Any preferences for bounty types?”

“Not particularly, but for starters, I'm interested in taking Borgok's bounty request. He's open for green.” The Keeper answered smoothly, and the man's hands stilled.

Frowning at them, the bartender set down his shaker. “Is that so... look, kid. Eight Hunters have already attempted that job. Two of them abandoned the bounty after sustaining severe injury and the rest simply never returned for their check-ins. It's not a job I'd recommend for a fresh-faced greenie's first run.”

The Keeper bristled. “I'll be the judge of that, thanks.”

The man shrugged, picking his shaker up and continuing his mixing. “Sure, don't take it personally kid, it's just my duty to warn you.”

The Keeper frowned in confusion at his sudden change of tone.

“Glacius.” He muttered, flashing them a grin as he placed a tall sling glass of pale pink liquid before them, wisps of cold steam wafting from its rim. “A kid who survived having a bounty on their head for a year doesn't need my protection.”

“I had a bounty on me?” The Keeper frowned down at the drink suspiciously and the elder man chuckled.

“Rookwood placed one on you. It was lifted when you killed him, of course. But the number of Hunters that died in the attempts dissuaded others rather quickly.” The bartender explained, before nodding at the drink. “Don't worry, kid. It's not what you ordered, just a strawberry milk mocktail. Wouldn’t want you doing business with a foggy head, might find yourself bartering away your soul.”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow at the man, and he chuckled again. “I guess that paranoia is how you survived.”

With that, the man took a spoon, stirred the drink, scooped some, poured it into his mouth and swallowed. “There, it's not poisoned. I look forward to working with you.”

Tipping their head in gratitude, the Keeper lifted the glass and took a sip, drinking carefully to avoid accidentally swallowing the Mandrake leaf under their tongue.

In truth, they'd never had strawberry milk before, let alone in a mocktail with other fruits, but it was surprisingly pleasant, perhaps a little sweet for their taste, the cinnamon stick was an interesting touch too. More importantly, it was nice that the man didn't seem to take offence at their suspicion, they had a feeling they would fit in well here.

“A lot of the Hunters that took the bounty for you worked with Rookwood to track you down.” The bartender continued, stooping to rummage through the shelves under the counter. “We've got a decent network, but most wouldn't turn down the far reach of the Rookwood Gang's arm.”

That reminded the Keeper of the occasions that they would come across what they'd thought were Ashwinders or Poachers travelling in pairs or alone. Perhaps those were actually bounty hunting Mercenaries all along.

“Aha, here we go.” The bartender straightened with a scroll in his hands, which he presented to the Keeper. “Here's the contract for Borgok's bounty, you're welcome to give it a read.”

Taking the scroll from him, the Keeper unrolled it and examined its contents. Upon the parchment was the image of a goblin, along with his name, Gnarlak, apparently. With the promise of a reward that was open to negotiation scribbled beneath the portrait.

The Keeper frowned, well that wasn't much to go on.

“That's why it's not recommended for greenies.” The bartender chuckled wryly. “Borgok knows very little of that goblin's whereabouts. So, you'll have to do much of the investigation yourself, on top of infiltration and assassination.”

“And you?” The Keeper asked, rolling up the parchment once more and returning it, before picking up their glass again. “Anything you can share about Gnarlak or Borgok?”

The bartender gave a thoughtful hum, idly taking up another glass and beginning to clean it with a cloth. “Borgok's one of the finest metalsmiths amongst the goblins, I heard that Gnarlak tried to recruit him, but Borgok refused, took up work for Gringotts’ instead, it seems.”

The Keeper nodded, Borgok had spoken of economic warfare, so that tracked. Hang on, if Borgok had done metalsmithing for Ranrok, that meant...

“Gnarlak’s an odd one, he was one of Ranrok's commanders and, word on the street is that he was holding a candle for the late rebellion leader. It's only been two years but he's a bit of a rising star, picked up both the remains of Ranrok's Loyalists, and the goblins who were disappointed with Ranrok.” The man paused thoughtfully for a moment.

“Honestly, it's not surprising that Borgok wants him dead, the kill and death rates for Gnarlak’s Loyalists are absurdly high. And the goblin has fast gained a reputation for being a callous commander. It's a wonder why his men seem so loyal and willing to follow him.” The bartender shrugged. “That's about all I've got. The rest you'll need to scrounge up on your own.”

Great, relying on gossip as always.

“I see, thanks.” The Keeper sighed internally and looked down, finding their glass to be almost empty. When did that happen?

“Still keen on taking the job?” The bartender asked. “Over here, most requesters aren't willing to take a greenie with no jobs under their belt. Each failed attempt costs time and makes the target more aware that they're being targeted, lowering the rate of success.”

The elder man began cleaning the shaker, again by hand. Maybe he was bored or something. “So, if you clear this one, you won't have to wait for another requester who's open for greens. But considering the difficulty of this one and your lack of experience, it might be wiser to wait.”

A smirk lifted the corner of the bartender's mouth. “After all, fighting off attackers isn't quite the same as tracking prey.”

The Keeper snorted, finished off the last of their glass, and stood. “I'm a quick learner.”

“Come back with Borgok when you've completed negotiations then.” The bartender chuckled, collecting their empty glass and began cleaning it as the Keeper returned to the table where Borgok still sat, drinking from their untouched mug of water.

“That's fifty galleons, my friend.” The Keeper quipped as they retook their seat.

“They can put it on my tab.” Borgok gave them a deep chuckle in response. “So, what do you say?”

“I'm keen.” The Keeper smirked.

“Excellent.” Borgok grinned. “The look in your eyes tells me you have found something you want from me.”

“Indeed, I have.” The Keeper nodded. “You did metalsmithing for Ranrok, and if I'm not wrong, that means you made collars and armlets of goblin silver for him.”

Borgok's bushy eyebrows rose high on his forehead. “That I did. However, I do not know how Ranrok infused them with power. He never shared that much with me.”

“That's quite alright.” The Keeper shook their head. “I'd simply like you to make those for me.”

“Exactly what use might you have for a dragon collar?” The goblin tilted his head in confusion. “Surely you don't have a dragon.”

“I don't want collars for dragons.” The Keeper grimaced, recalling the dragon that had been forced to attack their carriage on the way to Hogwarts. They would never place such a thing on the Hebridean Black’s child. “I want collars of the same design. But sized for human necks.”

Borgok's eyes widened, and he frowned deeply. “I'm not sure I want to know what you want with such a thing.”

“You don't.” The Keeper supplied. “I'll even pay you for the cost of crafting them and arrange for them to be returned to you upon my death.”

Borgok's eyebrows went right back up. “On top of fulfilling my bounty request?”

“Yes.” The Keeper nodded.

The goblin folded his arms and leaned back in his seat in thought. This was an incredibly good deal for him, he couldn’t possibly turn it down, this the Keeper was certain of. Well, from a profit standpoint at least.

“They're made from goblin silver, you do realise how costly they will be to craft?” Borgok finally asked.

“I am aware.” The Keeper nodded.

However, if they managed to sell the dragon parts, they'd be doing well financially for a while. Not to mention, Penny's work in Hogsmeade and any bounties they cleared would help lighten the load too. Assuming they managed to clear Borgok's of course.

“...how many do you think you'll want?” Borgok asked somewhat grudgingly.

“Two... for now. Along with a single armlet.” The Keeper replied thoughtfully. “And, if you're amenable, I would also come to you for other constructs I need made from goblin silver, I have need of a cauldron as well.”

Borgok's expression was pinched for several minutes, and they decided to remind him how much he needed them. Hey, he was the one talking about making the goblins indispensable to wizardkind for leverage, they were just doing the same.

“I wouldn't mind helping you to suppress aggressive goblin rebellion leaders in the future as well, of course. I care as much as you do about ensuring that Lodgok's sacrifice, in the name of peaceful protest, goes well.” They offered, and honestly, they meant it too.

Lodgok was the first person to give their life for the Keeper. They had never wanted to undo something quite as much as they had in that moment. They'd never screamed no in denial with as much desperation, as they had when his body broke against the rocks, not even when they were first forced to their knees on cold stone.

The Keeper had been utterly unprepared for how loss would feel. They, who had had next to nothing for so long. A disgusting sensation that they had been forced to feel again and again since then. One they knew would attempt to force itself into their life relentlessly for the rest of their days, but one they would rail against with equal persistence for as long as they were able.

Borgok took a deep breath in response to their words. “...very well. I will supply you with any goblin silver metalsmithing you require. On the condition that you offer your continued aid in quelling goblin rebellion leaders that may lead our peoples to war and that you will return my work upon your passing.”

“Deal. Shall we?” The Keeper gestured towards the bar counter as they stood, and Borgok nodded, following them to the bar.

“Come to an agreement then?” The bartender asked pleasantly and the two nodded as they took their seats upon the barstools.

“Now, first off.” The bartender turned to the Keeper with a small smile. “There is the matter of your name. You may use your real name or an alias for business and contracts. You can change it later, but I'd recommend that you avoid doing so since it'll make it difficult to recognise you.”

The Keeper sighed. Names, they really couldn't bother to come up with something, but they probably shouldn’t use their real one... ugh, fine. “Salamander.”

“You're in luck, that isn't currently in use by any of our mercenaries. And the last Salamander died about sixty years back without much to his name.” With a flourish, the bartender unrolled the scroll of parchment he'd presented to them before and offered Borgok a dark red quill. “Please write the details of your agreement upon the back of this contract.”

The goblin grimaced and accepted a small shot glass from the bartender as well, knocking back its contents before he began writing the terms they'd agreed upon before.

A moment later, Borgok passed the parchment and quill to the Keeper and the bartender offered them a shot glass as well, all while keeping his eyes averted from the contract.

“A simple painkiller mixed with wiggenweld potion.” The elder man explained with a faint smirk. “You'll need to write the exact words Borgok wrote, just beneath it, and then sign off at the bottom right corner. And make certain that you concur entirely with the terms, you will not be able to change them later without agreement from Borgok.”

The Keeper frowned at the glass of light green liquid for a moment, getting a feeling that they knew where this was going, considering that neither they nor Borgok had been given any ink. So, they accepted the shot and knocked it back. Giving the contract one last look over to double check, they began writing.

Immediately, they felt their back begin to itch and burn, the red ink that flowed from the quill lining up perfectly with the dull and uncomfortable sensation spreading across their skin. Yup, this quill was using their blood and carving up their back while at it.

At least the text was short, and they quickly felt the wiggenweld stitching their wounds closed as they finished writing, wondering idly how much more painful this would have been without the shot.

The moment their signature was done, their text glowed bright red and drifted up along the parchment to fuse with Borgok's, leaving their signatures separate, one on the left and the other on the right.

As the red glow slowly faded from the parchment, the bartender, who was still keeping his eyes averted from the contract, spoke. “Now then, little greenie, please roll up the parchment.”

The Keeper side-eyed him with some irritation at the nickname, but did as instructed. The elder man then tapped the scroll with his wand and seemingly lifted a second copy of the contract out of itself. Next, he pulled out two ribbons, a stick of wax, and a seal stamp, tied up both the scrolls individually, heated the wax over a candle, before sealing the two ribbons with said wax, his movements practiced and fluid.

Each time his stamp pressed down, the wax shone a bright blue before hardening, and when he lifted the stamp, a tiny burst of blue flame flickered into being over the wax seal, before disappearing in a flash of light. Its ephemeral glow reminding the Keeper of the way phantoms were depicted, as tiny blue flames floating around them called Hitodama, in a Japanese fairytale that Ominis had been reading last week.

Perhaps that was the origin of this pub's name, perhaps not.

The bartender then passed the first scroll to Borgok, and the second to the Keeper with a smile. “Congratulations, Salamander, you've just accepted your first bounty request as a Phantom's Mercenary. You are now an honorary member of my guild.”

“Honorary?” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow as they accepted the scroll, examining the blue wax seal with a flame symbol emblazoned upon it.

The bartender flashed them a sharp grin. “Of course, you'll have to actually complete at least one contract in order to be a bona-fide Mercenary.”

“Of course.” The Keeper huffed in amusement as they tucked the contract away in their satchel. “In that case, do look forward to my official membership.”

“I’m sure I will.” The bartender chuckled as he dripped more wax onto a small dish. “You, and only you, will be able to remove the seal any time you wish to view the contents of the contract, should you simply tie it back up, the wax will seal itself again.”

The bartender then stamped the seal onto the wax, producing yet another blue flame as he continued. “Upon completion, I will place a different stamp upon the wax, that will seal the terms agreed upon. If the request is abandoned or one of you is deceased, I will dissolve this wax seal and the contract will be broken along with it.”

He raised the, now hardened, blue wax token, about the size of a chocolate frog, and rotated it for them to see. On one side was an imprint of Borgok's face and on the other, the Keeper's. “You, however, will not be able to dissolve the contract, even should you shred the parchment to dust or burn it.”

The bartender stooped to deposit the wax token somewhere behind the counter. “You'll also need to check-in with me at least once a month, elsewise I shall assume that you have abandoned the request or have perished. And it's considered good practice to provide me with updates weekly that I can pass on to the requester or that you update them yourself.”

The Keeper nodded. “I'll try, but I'm still in Hogwarts, so I'll only be able to visit on Saturday nights at best.”

The bartender shot them an amused look and they rolled their eyes in response.

“Opening hours are six in the evening till six in the morning, an owl addressed to Alasdair, Phantom's Flask, will find me easily enough.” At his words, the Keeper belatedly realised that they hadn't gotten the bartender's name till now.

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded again, catching movement out of the corner of their eye, near the staircase landing, and soon spotted Ominis striding leisurely down the stairs, pausing to speak with the doorman. “How much for the drink?

“It's your first drink, so it's on the house.” Alasdair waved a hand lazily. “Ask for the house special in the future, if you're here for Merc business.”

“Got it, and how much for the information?” The corner of the Keeper’s mouth lifted and so too did the elder man's.

“Also on the house, for my Mercenaries at least.” Alasdair chuckled. “It benefits me too if my guildmembers have a reputation for success. So, I only charge Mercs from other guilds.”

A smirk spread across the bartender's face, the lens of his spectacles catching the light as he spoke. “Besides, you've killed a lot of my Hunters. I have high hopes that your membership will cover my losses.”

The Keeper chuckled wryly, keeping an ear out for the sound of Ominis leaving the pub. “In that case, I'd appreciate it if you could help me get in touch with the two that returned from attempting to clear Borgok's bounty request.”

Alasdair hummed thoughtfully. “One of them should be dropping by next Saturday night to give me an update on their current bounty. If you come again, I can introduce you, but anything you want from them, will be up to you to wrangle.”

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded, distantly hearing the doors of the pub open for Ominis to leave. “I'll be back next week then.”

“Happy hunting.” The bartender waved his cloth at them casually.

“I look forward to your results.” Borgok flashed them a faint smile.

The Keeper gave the goblin a parting nod as well, before lifting their hood and leaving the pub behind Ominis.

“You should have waited, and conferred with us, before joining some mercenary guild and signing a blood contract!” Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose.

The Keeper sighed. “I didn't see any reason to wait, it's an incredible opportunity and this is exactly the type of work I enjoy. I would have insisted on taking the job anyway even if I'd waited to tell you two about it.”

Ominis didn't look too pleased with that statement and the Keeper knew that he was probably more hurt than anything else.

“Ominis, darling, I love you deeply, but this is what I want to do. You wouldn't like it if I told you what to do with your life, would you?” The Keeper reasoned, reaching across the Feldcroft table, that they and their partners were seated around, to touch Ominis’ hand.

“But it's dangerous!” Ominis protested, withdrawing his hand from their reach. “And these are dangerous people you're choosing to work with.”

“Well, so are some of the requests I'm already taking.” The Keeper chuckled. “If anything, I think it's better to have a network and people I can look to for assistance. To work in a place that has rules and security.”

“That bartender does sound like a nice chap.” Sebastian agreed. “Offering to help you and all.”

“My entire life has been fraught with danger, I'd probably feel uncomfortable if that changed.” The Keeper flashed a wry smile. “I grew up in these types of places, with these types of people. If anything, it feels more natural and comfortable than Hogwarts.”

Ominis sighed and folded his arms. “I suppose I just can't imagine why you would want to work in that sort of environment. To put yourself in danger when you know I'll worry.”

“We've talked about this before, haven't we? With Sebastian wanting to be a Curse Breaker.” Reaching out to take Ominis’ hands and move them from their folded position, the Keeper placed a kiss against his knuckles. “We are partners, that means we work together and support each other as equals. Not control each other, or force each other to do what we want. I'm sure you don't want to be part of such a family again.”

Ominis grimaced, thinking clearly of his parents’ ‘traditions’.

“I'll take your feelings and advice into consideration when I act, and bend as much as I can, but if we let ourselves think we can forcefully change each other, well...” The Keeper gave him a faint smile. “You'll just have to remember that I wouldn't needlessly hurt you and try to respect my decisions, even if you don't understand them. As I would for you.”

“...I remember.” With a sigh, Ominis shook his head. “Alright, let's hear your reasons then, what do you even need goblin silver for?”

The Keeper smiled, he would get there, eventually. “As the only material that can contain energy extracted with my Ancient Magic, we will need someone who is willing to craft tools for us from goblin silver.”

“Like a cauldron.” Sebastian volunteered.

“And storage for the energies.” The Keeper continued, giving him a nod. “I also noticed that Ranrok's Loyalists seemed to be able to use Emotional Pain energy through the armlets they wore. It'd be extremely useful if I can store energy in those rather than always using cumbersome jars to take a hit.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “I wonder if we could make other objects that can release stored energies.”

“Probably.” The Keeper nodded. “I was thinking of investigating the design of the tools he sells us, I doubt I could come close to crafting something with as much skill as he, but I had an idea for a storage system that would require a lot of goblin silver.”

“Yeah yeah, sounds great.” Sebastian waved a dismissive hand, before grinning. “But imagine this...”

He paused, spreading his hands dramatically. “A dagger laced with Fear.”

Ominis sighed and the Keeper gave a fond chuckle.

“Oh, come on, you can't pretend that doesn't sound absolutely wild.” Sebastian implored, gesturing animatedly. “A nightmare inducing blade, a poisoned dagger that isn't fatal! But also, can't be undone with a simple finite by another enemy. Unlike petrificus totalus.”

Ominis blinked for a bit, before humming thoughtfully. “...I suppose I don't mind the idea of giving them a more certain means to disarm without killing.”

“See?” Sebastian beamed at Ominis, shooting the Keeper a quick wink.

Ominis cocked an eyebrow in response and there was a moment of bewildered silence, before realisation struck him and Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You know what I meant.”

A small, amused smile lifted the corner of Ominis lips, and he sighed. “Yes well, I guess I can understand the appeal.”

The Keeper was still debating whether to mention the collars or not, when Ominis folded his arms. “Anything else you'd like to mention?”

They blinked at him in surprise and Ominis huffed with some impatience. “You haven't moved or made a whit of sound for a while. You're only so still before you tell me something potentially upsetting. Out with it then.”

The Keeper hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. “Dragons are untameable. Yet Ranrok managed to set a dragon upon Fig and I in fifth-year. I believe that it was the collar, laced with Pain, and placed around its neck that allowed him to control it.”

Both boys frowned and Sebastian hesitantly asked. “You're not-”

“Of course not.” The Keeper quickly interrupted. “I would never collar our dragon chick or do anything so barbaric, its mother gave it to us that it may be free, and that is my intention as well.”

Their partners visibly sagged in relief and the Keeper was mildly offended that the two would even think them capable of such a thing.

“I want to investigate how the collar functions and if it can control a dragon, surely it would work easily on humans.” The Keeper explained and Ominis’ eyes widened.

Sebastian, as always, caught on immediately. “For our guests, right? That makes sense, if we can control them using the collars, it'd be another means of preventing escape.”

“And we could even utilise the collars in our experiments to inject small amounts of energies over time, if I can figure out how to operate them.” The Keeper agreed.

“That's an if.” Ominis countered.

“Yes, I might not figure it out, but knowledge is power, and I'd like to understand my abilities and perhaps, if it's possible to restore an aura after it's been torn.” The Keeper explained. “All part of ensuring that this process is as well understood as possible, before I potentially damage Anne.”

Ominis almost looked surprised at the reminder, and the Keeper wondered how long it'd been since he'd thought of her, as a shade of guilt flickered across his face.

“I suppose that makes sense. I still don't like it, but I'm sorry for getting worked up so quickly, I just...” Ominis trailed off with a sigh.

“It's quite alright. If anything, that panicked state is more painful for you than us.” The Keeper wore a sympathetic smile as they lightly caressed his cheek.

“That's right, you don’t need to worry about us. You get upset because you care. And we know that. And appreciate it.” Sebastian added.

Ominis hesitated for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out, before he shook his head and gave the two a soft smile. “Thank you. For understanding.”

“Of course, we love you.” The Keeper chuckled. “Now, let's not let this distract from your success in acquiring the needed Re'em blood earlier tonight.”

“Oh, yes, you have to tell us all about it!” Sebastian nodded eagerly.

“There's really not much to tell, I'm afraid.” Ominis chuckled. “The queue was longer than I expected, but considering that the poacher vendor would host one customer at a time, and the vendor is only in business once a week, I shouldn't have been surprised.”

“I imagine privacy is an issue for patrons of such a store.” Sebastian snickered.

“Indeed, I managed to trade the two gallons of dragon's blood that I brought with me for four pints of Re'em blood.” Ominis explained. “The vendor said that he would trade a gallon of Re'em blood for a pair of dragon kidneys next week, he's got a buyer looking to buy as many of them as possible.”

“Creepy.” The Keeper commented.

“No less than us asking for the same with Re'em blood.” Ominis chuckled with a wry smile.

“Heh, can't argue with that one.” Sebastian laughed along sheepishly.

“Regardless, he probably knows we've got a dragon chick and are selling its parent's parts.” The Keeper murmured. “It can't be helped, for someone well versed in Poaching, but at least we needn’t fear the vendor tattling on us or anything.”

“Yes well, he did seem mildly amused, perhaps he imagined me to be a pampered noble who'd demanded a dragon for a birthday gift.” Ominis rolled his eyes.

“Hey, at least the getup worked.” Sebastian dragged his chair across the carpet, making a ghastly sound, just to bump shoulders with Ominis and murmur into his ear. “Though, while I think you looked quite dashing in it, I much prefer you out of it.”

Immediately, Ominis’ cheeks reddened, and he covered his face with one hand, while planting the other into Sebastian's, shoving the brunet an arm's length away. “Don't just-”

The Keeper laughed lightly as Sebastian's muffled complaints and Ominis’ flustered bluster filled the air. Perfect, everything was going according to plan. Now, all they needed was to buy some mead, mix the milk substitute, and then wait for the egg to actually hatch next weekend.

If it hatched at all.

Fuck.

The wait was going to be absolutely unbearable.

“Oh, I think I need to use the loo for a bit.” Ominis grimaced, his words causing the Keeper and Sebastian to halt in their tracks, pausing in the otherwise empty hallway outside the Slytherin common room, on their way to breakfast in the great hall.

“Again?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow.

Ominis huffed in annoyance and some embarrassment. “Yes well, my stomach seems to be a tad upset at the moment.”

“We can wait for you.” The Keeper offered, shoving Sebastian lightly in the arm. Perhaps Ominis’ stomach-ache was because he was anxious about the egg’s hatching too.

“No, it's fine, you two go on ahead. I'll catch up.” Ominis shook his head and waved them on as he pushed open the door to the boys’ wash closets.

“Take your time!” Sebastian called after him and the Keeper gave him a pointed look. “What? I'm allowed to ask questions, aren't I? It’s barely been fifteen minutes since he last went.”

The Keeper shook their head with a helpless smile, continuing on towards the great hall. “Heaven knows why he even likes a crass buffoon like you.”

Sebastian grinned roguishly as he followed with a swagger. “It's the boorish charm I bet, posh princelings like a little ruffian between the sheets.”

“Ah yes, that must be it.” The Keeper snorted, shaking their head in amusement. “Wonder what my pull is.”

“Your Slytherin charm, no doubt.” Sebastian snickered. “Rationalising things for him so he can do what he wants guilt-free.”

“Heh, sounds about right.” The Keeper chuckled, and in the calm silence that followed, their mind returned to the state of just pure stress it'd been stuck in before the interruption.

Today was the day they'd estimated, when the dragon egg would hatch, and they were anxious to head to Dìon to wait on standby. Tynx was on orders to owl immediately if the egg showed signs of hatching early, and so far, there hadn't been a letter saying that ‘the chick is arriving’.

Hopefully it would hatch before they had to leave for Natty's Saturday evening lesson and then to visit the Phantom's Flask tonight. Or perhaps tomorrow, during the day, before they had to return to Hogwarts. They wanted to be there when the eg-

“Woah!” Sebastian exclaimed as the Keeper's right foot landed on something that was decidedly not Floor and slid forward.

Quickly, he grabbed their arm to steady them before whatever they'd stepped on made them do an unseemly split in the middle of the empty hallway. Clinging to his supporting arm, the Keeper glared down at the offending object, finding it to be a small journal or notebook.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked with a faint smile.

“Yes. No thanks to this.” The Keeper replied dryly, removing their foot from the small book and bending down to collect it. “Now, who could have dropped this?”

“Looks like a diary perhaps, maybe there's a name in it?” Sebastian suggested, peering curiously at the journal over their shoulder.

“Let's see...” As they opened the book to see if he was correct, its well flattened spine naturally flipped to what seemed to be the latest entry, and the Keeper distantly heard hurried footsteps coming from just ahead of them.

Dear diary,

Wonderful news! Father finally agreed to try speaking with the head of the Gaun-

The volume of the footsteps intensified, but before the Keeper could even lift their head, the small book was abruptly yanked from their grasp.

“That's mine!” They were met with the mildly familiar voice and equally familiar face of a younger Slytherin girl, now clutching the book protectively to her chest and glaring angrily at them. “What do you think you're doing with my diary!?”

The Keeper raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the girl. “Well, your diary almost gave me a nasty fall, might want to take better care of your belongings.”

The girl jabbed an accusatory finger in their face. “You were caught thumbing through my personal property, and you dare claim that you didn't steal it!?”

The Keeper glared at the bright magenta tipped finger in their face. Ah, right, Jolene. The cowardly girl who'd disappointed Ominis. “Tread carefully, that is a bold accusation.”

The thinly veiled threat in their voice seemed to get through to her, and Jolene shrunk back, biting her lip and retracting her hand to clutch at her diary.

“You'll see, you're not the only ones who can get close to Ominis anymore, just because you're both orphans!” With that, the redhead fled in the direction of the great hall.

Sebastian stared at her retreating figure with an incredulous expression on his face. “Excuse me? Did she just imply that we're only able to be close to Ominis because we don't have parents? What in Merlin's name...”

The Keeper shook their head exasperatedly. “Hell if I know, girl sounds right barmy.”

A moment of irritated silence passed.

“Should we...?” Sebastian asked, not needing to say much for them to know what he was asking.

“I don't see much reason to, he doesn't need further disappointment.” The Keeper shook their head and Sebastian nodded. “He thinks well of her, let him dream.”

“Good point, I wouldn’t even know how to start explaining the ridiculousness that just occurred.” He sighed. “Not sure what to make of her statement either.”

“I imagine she's jealous? Maybe Ominis’ impression that she'd been intimidated into silence by her parents held water after all.” The Keeper shrugged. “Don't know why she assumes we wouldn't still be close to Ominis even if we had disapproving parents like hers.”

“Not our problem she doesn't have a spine.” Sebastian snorted.

“And I don't think it needs be his problem either.” The Keeper pointed out.

“Agreed.” Sebastian nodded firmly.

“Besides, he's clearly worried enough about the chick.” The Keeper sighed, like themselves. “We don't need to stress him further.”

Sebastian's eyes widened. “Ohhhh, that's why he had to use the loo!”

The Keeper stared at him for a moment, he hadn't realised? “Yes?”

Sebastian stared blankly at them for another moment, before dropping his fist into his other palm. “And that's why you didn't notice the book on the floor, you're stressed about it too!”

The Keeper paused, huh, that was unexpected. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

They sighed, and Sebastian's eyes softened.

Glancing around, he ascertained that the hall was empty once more, before stepping closer and placing a warm hand atop the Keeper's head. “Hey, it'll be alright, the chick's going to hatch just fine, and then we'll be busy as hell for the next two years.”

The Keeper's eyes slipped shut, allowing him to comfort them for a moment, before smiling and opening their eyes again. “Of course we are, but I'm still going to worry about it, and you can't stop me.”

“I guess it wouldn't be you if you weren't overplanning everything.” Sebastian shook his head with a helpless grin as he retrieved his hand.

“Well, I’d be less worried if Ominis could see into the egg.” The Keeper sighed, of course the bloody thing would have magic that interfered with his wand sight.

“I thought I said the two of you didn't need to wait for me.” Ominis voice came from behind them and the two turned to see him approaching at a leisurely pace.

“Feeling better?” Sebastian asked, placing a hand on their blind partner's back and giving it a gentle rub.

“Mostly.” Ominis sighed. “Not sure I've got much of an appetite for breakfast to be honest.”

The Keeper grimaced. “Yeah, me neither.”

Sebastian was about to add his two cents, when a very harried looking owl shot through the air and dropped a letter onto his head. “Ack!”

“Wait, is that-” The Keeper stooped to pick the letter off the floor while Sebastian glared at the dumb bird.

Inside the envelope was a single phrase. ‘The chick is arriving.’

“Guys, we've got to get to Dìon. It's hatching!” The Keeper immediately took off in the direction of the nearest floo, they'd need to fly to Dìon after flooing, so they didn't have much time.

“Now!?” Ominis exclaimed. “Oh, Merlin.”

“Come on!” Sebastian grabbed Ominis hand with a broad grin and dragged him along.

The moment the Keeper's feet touched the floor, they were already running towards the kitchens’ side entrance, quickly followed by the two boys, while Sepulchria found a nice spot to lie down for a rest after the breakneck pace they’d put her through.

Darting through the empty frame, they really needed to get the doors done, the Keeper was met with the heart-stopping sight of the purple egg, resting on a large stack of towels in the middle of the kitchen island counter.

With a long crack along its surface.

“Master! Eggy is hatching!” Tibsy squealed excitedly from her spot beside the counter, the other two elves standing beside her as well.

They barely heard her, taking a few steps forward to stand before it, while Tynx pulled Tibsy away so that the two boys could stand around the counter with the Keeper.

“Is it?” Ominis murmured, voice hushed with nerves.

“There's- there's a crack.” The Keeper's voice was strained, their breath shallow and anxious.

Good God if the baby wasn't actually alive in there, they were going to- Well, they weren't sure, but it wouldn't be pretty.

The egg shook and another crack formed on its surface.

“Oh!” Ominis jolted and his partners gave him a quizzical glance. “Sorry, I heard-”

Another hairline crack and a soft squeak came from the egg.

The egg shook and began to tip onto its side, and the Keeper immediately reached out to stabilise it, but Sebastian caught their hand, stopping them with a gentle reminder. “It's okay, let it figure its way out, the cloth'll keep it from getting injured.”

The Keeper took a deep breath, right. The book had said that the dragon needed to get out on its own or it wouldn't grow properly.

The egg landed on its side, nestled safely on the fluffy towels, and there was a thump from the inside, before another squeak.

“What if it's stuck?” Ominis asked worriedly.

“Oh, no no, I think it's got it.” Sebastian pointed at the egg. “On this side.”

The Keeper took a step around to peer at the egg from beside Sebastian, spotting a piece of the egg that had dislodged from the rest of the shell. There was another thump and the piece of shell dropped from the egg, revealing a scrawny black scaled leg, coated in a thin film of slime.

The leg then disappeared from sight, and they could hear the sound of the baby shifting inside, before a little snout emerged, tiny eyes blinking drowsily as its small jaws opened to release a high-pitched squeak.

Relief hit the Keeper like a boulder and a breathless laugh escaped them, it was alive.

Little innocent purple eyes examined them curiously from under the shell's shade and the Keeper reached a hand towards it slowly.

“Hey there...” The Keeper murmured softly, filled with wonder when the small creature didn't recoil in fear, but poked its snout out further, taking a curious sniff of their fingertips. “Want to come out?”

As they withdrew their hand in encouragement, the little dragon stretched its neck out to follow their fingers, only to be impeded by the remaining shell. The small creature seemed to remember what it'd been doing part way and began to push at the remaining shell once again, cracking more pieces off in its bid for freedom.

“It's so small.” Ominis’ voice was the gentlest they'd ever heard it, which was saying something.

“Yeah...” The Keeper agreed with a breathless chuckle, brushing aside some of the shell so that the dragon could have an easier time wiggling free.

The small creature squeaked as it tumbled from the shell's confines, flapping its tiny wings in an effort to right itself, struggling to hold its disproportionately larger head up on long spindly thin legs.

“There you go.” The Keeper beamed proudly, feeling oddly pleased at its meagre achievement.

Once it had its feet under it, the baby dragon lifted its head, staring with wide eyes at the world now revealed to it from beyond the confines of its shell. Its bright purple gaze ran over the kitchen walls, the three humans, and the three elves. Eventually settling on Sebastian, who had been oddly quiet since the dragon hatched, and to everyone's surprise, the little thing began to wobble across the counter.

Towards him.

“Um.” Sebastian stood stiff, eyeing it warily as it approached him. “Guys-”

The dragon didn't seem quite as uncertain as Sebastian was and continued its determined march towards him.

“Hey-” Sebastian tugged on the Keeper's sleeve. “Why's it coming at me-”

They eyed him with amusement, the boy looked like he was about to panic, especially since the dragon didn't seem to realise that it was reaching the edge of the counter.

Right as it did so, Sebastian quickly scooped the little dragon into his arms before it could fall, as the Keeper had known he would.

He stared down at the tiny dragon in his arms with wide eyes and the baby released a few surprised squeaks. Shifting itself into a more comfortable position, the dragon settled down in his arms contentedly, looking snug and cozy as it nuzzled against his chest.

“I think it likes you.” Ominis giggled.

“Not funny, what do I do-” Sebastian hissed and to his alarm, the baby dragon opened its mouth and began squealing loudly, revealing a maw devoid of teeth.

The Keeper glanced towards Tynx. “Do you have the milk substitute ready?”

“Yes, Master.” Tynx nodded, shuffling forward to offer them a bottle that Poppy had helped them fit with a rubber teat for the dragon beforehand, its glass insides filled with a thick golden-brown liquid.

Taking the bottle, they approached Sebastian. “Hold still and I'll feed it.”

Sebastian gave a shaky nod, and the Keeper held the bottle out to the dragon, tilting it so that a few drops dripped into the dragon's open mouth, before lowering it so that the dragon could follow the scent of food to the bottle.

“Smart little one.” The Keeper chuckled when the baby dragon latched onto the rubber teat and began to drink.

“Of course it is, it's ours.” Ominis waved a flippant hand, before turning his attention to the slab of stone they'd prepared in advance for the dragon as a bed, inspecting its temperature.

The Keeper shot him an amused look, before glancing towards the elves. “Tynx, collect the eggshell pieces and place them with the dragon parts. Tibsy, get some of the towels we prepared for its nest. Penny, bring us a towel damp with warm water.”

The three elves quickly went about following their instructions while the Keeper fed the dragon. When she returned, Ominis helped Tibsy to set up the nest they'd prepared for the dragon, before collecting the wet towel from Penny as the little creature finished its bottle.

The baby crooned softly as the Keeper withdrew the empty bottle and Ominis took their place to towel the dragon clean of the egg's fluids.

“No no, little one, no biting...” Ominis chuckled as the small dragon attempted to gnaw on his fingers with its soft gums, removing and running them along its jaw instead, to keep it distracted while he cleaned it.

“We'll have to feed it again in an hour, let's see if it wants to sleep till then.” The Keeper smiled fondly at the endearing sight.

They'd blocked off all the floor heating pipes except the one closest to the wall, resulting in the wood stove's smoke only travelling under one strip of the first floor, heating it before exiting through the chimney. The upper floors’ heating pipes were also blocked off to concentrate all the heat into that one strip, which they'd placed a large and flat heat-retentive slate stone over.

With a nod, Sebastian carefully set the drowsy dragon down on the towels that covered the slate, creating a warm and cosy nest for its occupant. The small creature pawed at the fluffy towels for a bit, wobbling about to investigate the warm spot, before deciding it was good enough and lay down to sleep.

As it did so, Sebastian examined his slime covered hands and clothing. “Ugh, gross.”

“Don't fuss, we can clean it.” Ominis flapped a hand at him dismissively.

“We need a name for the little one too.” The Keeper murmured thoughtfully.

Before they could say anything more however, the dragon abruptly sneezed in a burst of sparks that danced across the towels, and then sat frozen in place, seemingly startled by its own sneeze.

“Good thing I enhanced that cloth to be fire resistant.” The Keeper chuckled.

Almost as if in reaction to the Keeper's laughter, the dragon squeaked twice, attempted to cover its head with its overly small wings, before giving up and clawing the towels over its head instead, burrowing under the topmost layer of cloth.

“Aww, it's shy.” Ominis cooed in delight, clearly quite charmed by the little creature's mannerisms.

“Not shy enough to clean up after itself.” Sebastian grumbled.

Ominis shook his head. “It's a baby, Sebastian.”

The Keeper hummed lightly. “How about we call it Shy then?”

“Really?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them incredulously.

“Well.” Ominis gave a bemused cough. “It is shy.”

“Salazar save me- Look, we must have some standards, let's at least give it some deeper meaning.” Sebastian folded his arms in thought for a long silent moment, before his face lit up and he raised a hand. “How about Shai, that's Hebrew for Gift.”

The Keeper and Ominis blinked in surprise. When did he learn Hebrew of all things?

“I think that's quite lovely, it speaks to the responsibility we were bestowed and sounds like the little one's personality.” Ominis’ approving smile then took on a more coquettish tinge, tone light with exaggerated surprise. “My, Sebastian, how thoughtful of you.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Yes, I do think. Sometimes.”

“Sometimes.” The Keeper grinned fondly and was startled when a soft, low rumbling sound came from the little lump under the towels.

Ominis giggled again. “How precious, it seems to have fallen asleep.”

“I suppose we should leave Shai to rest...” The Keeper grimaced, finding themselves quite loath to leave the little one's side, when a familiar gurgle came from Sebastian's stomach and his cheeks coloured.

“Begging your pardons, but have Master and partners eaten breakfast yet?” Tynx asked tentatively.

“Not yet, we received your owl before that.” The Keeper answered, giving Sebastian a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“Then maybe Masters would like some food for eatings?” Tibsy asked eagerly.

The Keeper glanced back towards the dragon sleeping under the towels.

Seeing that, Penny spoke up. “Penny and others could bring food to Masters, then Masters can eat near little Shai.”

Ominis smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful idea, we can stand about the island counter for breakfast.”

With a nod, the Keeper returned their gaze to the elves. “Good thinking. Thank you, Penny, we'd appreciate something easy to eat while standing.”

The three house elves bowed and popped away in a heartbeat, while the three lovers seated themselves on the floor beside the sleeping dragon.

“That reminds me, how come you know Hebrew?” The Keeper asked Sebastian curiously, keeping their voice hushed and low.

Sebastian's face lit up, seeming quite happy to share. “Remember all the research I did into creating our clay Gōlems? Well, the ritual is Jewish and naturally, the book from the Restricted Section included several others within its pages, most were in Hebrew, and Shai was one of the words I picked up.”

The Keeper nodded, it'd been a simple ritual. They'd inscribed the word Emét, which meant Life, onto the surface of a clay statue and placed a paper with a shem spell written on it into its mouth, before chanting ‘Shem Hamephorash’, till the Gōlem was animated. The means of deactivating the Gōlem was quite elegant as well, as it merely required that the letter E in Emét be damaged or removed in some way, turning the word into Mét, which meant Death.

They wondered if the ease of the ritual was the reason it was even in the Restricted Section, or perhaps if another spell or ritual within the tome was to blame for its categorisation.

Though, the Jewish Gōlems hadn't been designed for battle and even after augmenting them with Ancient Magic, their combat capabilities hadn't been anywhere near as impressive as the Elder Keepers’ Ancient Magic Guardians. They really looked forward to learning how to make their own.

“It's honestly quite amazing how much you manage to keep up there.” The Keeper tapped the side of Sebastian's temple with a teasing smile. “No wonder you suck at everything else.”

“Why than- Hang on.” Sebastian paused, his proud grin quickly morphing into offended indignation.

Ominis struggled to contain his laughter, covering his mouth and leaning against the Keeper's side, shaking with muffled mirth while they grinned unapologetically at the brunet.

“Ugh.” Sebastian huffed, folding his arms and turning his head away. “All that effort and this is the thanks I get.”

The Keeper chuckled softly, reaching across to wrap their fist in his sticky robes. “No darling, this is the thanks you get.”

They pulled him close and pressed their lips against his, feeling him startle, before leaning closer, pushing them back against Ominis, who smiled, lacing his fingers with Sebastian's where they were braced against the floor for balance.

Meanwhile...

“Oh- that's!” Penny flushed and spun around to take her eyes off the three teenage humans entangled together on the floor.

Tibsy giggled beside her as she peered around the corner of the empty door frame and into the kitchens. “Penny should get used to seeing Masters being touchys! The Masters be doing it a lot and Tibsy is thinking them cute!”

 “I- I see!” Penny took a deep breath to calm her embarrassment. “But what should we do? Do we interrupt Masters?”

Tynx sighed, teenagers, the young mistress had been much alike when she got older, before she sold him to Gringotts at his urging. She’d needed the money after her father's... untimely death, and Tynx was the most valuable thing she'd inherited. While he did miss her dearly, he was ever so grateful that she'd given him the chance to be bought by the Keeper.

“Let's just leave the plates on the island counter, the Masters will notice when they smell the food.” Tynx suggested, snapping his fingers and levitating the tray he was carrying, sending it soaring through the air towards the counter along with another bottle of dragon milk substitute.

Following his example, Tibsy and Penny did the same with their trays.

“Tibsy is looking forwards to caring for little baby Shai, Tibsy is hoping that shy Shai likes Tibsy.” The elf squealed excitedly.

Penny nodded. “Master was saying they'll teach us to feed the baby dragon, Penny is hoping Shai doesn't bite.”

“Probably not till it grows some teeth...” Tynx sighed, pressing his fingers to his forehead, he certainly wasn't looking forward to the increased workload. With the Masters in school, the elves would have to take care of the dragon during the weekdays. On top of their existing duties.

He knew well how difficult raising babies was, and Master's lady friend had said that Hebridean Black dragons were one of the most clever of dragon breeds. Which meant it would probably be more difficult to raise.

Heaving another sigh, Tynx looked at the two eager elves.

Well, at least they were having fun.

Chapter Text

“Everyone have their phials?” Natty asked as her six Animagi students filed into the courtyard behind her. Correction, five Animagi students and one who was definitely not also secretly learning the art.

The aforementioned five each held up a small crystal phial and she nodded approvingly. “Now, hold up the phial so that it catches the moonlight.”

The group of teens, excluding the Keeper and Natty herself, did as instructed and Sebastian quietly nudged Ominis’ arm slightly to the right, so that his shadow wouldn't obstruct the moon's soft and cool glow. A palpable air of excitement hung over Poppy, Amit and Garreth, as the crystal phials began resonating a similar silver hued luminescence.

“Wonderful, we're lucky that we have a cloudless night, elsewise we'd have to start all over from scratch.” Natty chuckled lightly.

“And that would've been terrible for you, ey Garreth?” Sebastian smirked at the redhead, who shot him a glare.

“Big talk for someone who also swallowed his leaf.” Garreth retorted.

“Yeah, I did.” Sebastian shrugged casually. “But only once. I didn't eat three Mandrake leaves in under a week.”

“Not all of us are used to holding something in their mouth without biting down.” Garreth huffed, and Ominis placed a hand over his face while the Keeper coughed to cover their laugh. “It just took some getting used to.”

“Next, you'll need to spit your Mandrake leaf into the phial.” Natty interrupted, before Sebastian could speak, clearly trying to ignore the exchange.

“Bet he spits, right Ominis?” Garreth snickered, lightly nudging the blind boy beside him with his elbow.

“Hey!” Sebastian protested.

At that, Ominis appeared to have reached his breaking point, and burst out in an embarrassed fluster. “Oh, for Merlin's sake, Sebastian has not sucked me off!”

“Yet.” Sebastian quipped with a grin, seemingly quite unable to help himself.

“Sebastian!” Ominis exclaimed, his expression almost betrayed.

Garreth rolled his eyes and was about to speak, when the Keeper casually volunteered, with a fairly proud smirk. “I have.”

There was a long moment of silence, following a gasp from Poppy, before Garreth flicked a hand out and declared. “Ew, did not need to know that.”

“Can we please get back to the potion? My ears are just about to start bleeding.” Amit pleaded faintly.

“Yes, please, let’s...” Ominis muttered from under the hand covering his face once more.

“Right.” Natty cleared her throat. “So, spit your leaf into the phial and then drop a strand of your hair in it.”

The group obediently, and perhaps gratefully, followed her instructions while Natty turned to the Keeper. “Next we add the dew with a silver teaspoon.”

With a nod, the Keeper produced a small bottle of clear liquid and a teaspoon that glimmered in the light, offering them to Natty.

She took the items from them and handed them to Poppy, who poured some dew into the teaspoon, before adding its contents to her phial, and then passed them on to Amit. This went on until everyone's crystal phials had gotten a spoon of dew, and the remaining bottle and teaspoon were returned to the Keeper's satchel.

“And lastly, we need to add the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth.” Natty instructed, giving the Keeper a grateful smile as they withdrew a small bag of unborn moth pupae. “Thanks for helping us to acquire the ingredients.”

“Least I could do, since you're teaching me wandless magic.” The Keeper shrugged, plus it made it easy for them to collect extras for themselves to make the potion too-

The small bag was passed around and as Amit dropped one of the critters into his crystal phial, watching it fizzle when it touched the saliva fattened leaf, he grimaced. “Can't say I'm looking forward to drinking this.”

“Come on, we throw all sorts of disgusting things into our potions on a regular basis.” Garreth pointed out.

“Yes, but they're boiled in a cauldron.” Amit shook his head. “The idea is less unpleasant when it's at least cooked.”

Garreth blinked at him for a moment before scrunching his face up at his phial as well. “You know what? You have a point.”

“If it is any consolation, it doesn't taste as bad as it sounds.” Natty chuckled as she dug five small wooden boxes out of her bag. “Now, put your phial into a box and mark them so you know which is yours. We'll bury them until a lightning storm.”

“We've still got a month of autumn, so we shouldn't have to wait too long.” Poppy's smile was light with excitement as she and the others each placed their phial into a box, before carving their initials into its surface with their wands.

“Hopefully so.” Natty nodded. “Until then, every sunrise and sundown you'll need to chant ‘Amato Animo Animato Animagus’ with the tip of your wand placed over your heart.”

“You might feel a second heartbeat as time passes, but don't let it interrupt the chant, it could be very dangerous if you don't follow through properly.” Seeing her friends give eager nods, Natty waved a hand and began leading the way out of the courtyard. “Come on, I've already picked out the perfect spot.”

As the group followed after her, the Keeper fell in stride with Poppy and whispered softly to her. “The egg hatched, hang behind afterwards and I'll fill you in.”

The girl's face lit up and she gave them an enthusiastic nod as they followed Natty across the cobblestone.

“So, how'd it go?” Poppy asked excitedly, having promised Natty that she would seek the Gryffindor out later, who had then left with Amit and Garreth.

“It went well, the egg hatched without any complications.” The Keeper was quite pleased to inform her, and she clasped her hands together with a smile.

“Oh, that is a relief to hear! Have you got a name for the little one?” Poppy asked, her gaze flickering between the three Slytherins, the empty expanse of treeless grass allowing the moon's light to illuminate the small clearing in which they stood.

“Indeed, we have.” The Keeper nodded. “Shai, which means gift in Hebrew.”

“That sounds like a lovely and fitting name.” Poppy beamed happily.

“Thanks.” Sebastian flashed a proud grin, getting a fond chuckle from Ominis and a shake of the head with it.

“Thank you again, Poppy.” Ominis placed a hand over his heart. “If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been able to acquire food, nor a bottle with which to feed Shai.”

“Please, it was my pleasure.” Poppy shook her head with a shy smile, pausing for a moment, before adding. “Though, I've been worrying about something since we last spoke.”

Poppy bit her lip, casting a quick glance at Ominis, before speaking. “Shai will need the milk substitute for at least a year. I know you've got a shop in Hogsmeade, but will you be able to earn enough to pay for that much Re'em blood?”

“Ah, yes...” The Keeper grimaced, they hadn't considered that Poppy, being raised in a poacher pack, would be aware of the high price of Re'em blood. Perhaps this was their decision to hide the truth about the dragon mother coming back to bite them in the arse.

Then again, they could... would she protest like Ominis had? Still, out of all their friends, she had been the most receptive to their forays into dark magic, perhaps she wouldn't be overly bothered? It could potentially be helpful for her to know, Poppy's loyalty to them was the most tested, aside from their partners and she was well versed in those circles.

Well, nothing for it but to see if they’d come to regret trusting her with this half-truth.

“It's alright.” The Keeper gave her a faint smile. “I got a job at the pub that should be lucrative enough to cover expenses.”

“The pu-” Poppy gasped. “You took on a bounty!? How!?”

As expected, she knew what the pub was for. The Keeper gave her a reassuring smile, raising their hands placatingly. “I met someone who vouched for me, and I was initiated into the Phantoms.”

“Oh, I see.” Strangely enough, Poppy said this with a smile. “I thought you might have to-”

She cut herself off, glancing once again at Ominis, relief plain in her eyes and the Keeper understood. She had been worried that they would need to resort to asking Ominis’ family for money, which would no doubt have been an excruciating ordeal for the abused blond.

The Keeper smiled softly, good, it was fortuitous that Ominis had found a friend in Poppy, and that she gave of her kindness and compassion to him too. They had yet more to be grateful to the faithful Hufflepuff for, it seemed.

“Please, Poppy, perhaps you can reason with this dunderhead and convince them that it is madness to pursue such a dangerous career.” Ominis entreated with an exasperated wave of a hand, before brushing his already perfectly combed hair back with a tired sigh.

Poppy shot the Keeper a sympathetic smile, and they felt like she appreciated how difficult it was to do nice things for Ominis without pissing him off. At least someone did.

“Well, if they're a member of the Phantoms, at the very least they're protected by the guildmaster.” Poppy tried tentatively.

“Oh, Salazar save me, not you too!” Ominis groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“My family has worked out of the inn for ages, the owner is a good man.” Poppy insisted. “He allowed me to stay with him behind the counter when my parents were off doing business. Never let anyone lay a hand on me.”

The Keeper grimaced at the unspoken neglect that her parents had committed, leaving a young girl unattended in a pub full of dangerous men, women and creatures of all kinds. It was nice however, to hear that their evaluation of the reliability of Alasdair's strict tavern rules, and honour, had been on point. So far.

“That's three against one on this, Ominis.” Sebastian quipped. “Aren't three heads wiser than one?”

“Again, it's two heads are better than one. And that's two things you got wrong this time, why are you deproving!?” Ominis shook his head with a sigh and folded his arms. “Alright, fine. I suppose it does make me feel a tad better, knowing your boss isn't a monster.”

The Keeper wrinkled their nose in distaste. “Alasdair's by no means my boss. He's a billboard that doubles as an assistant.”

Poppy burst into laughter at the descriptor, while Sebastian snorted and Ominis shook his head again.

“Well, it does suit you. Answering to no one on how you get the job done.” Poppy giggled. “After all the odds and ends you've picked up around Hogwarts. Let me guess, you're using Salamander for a name?”

The Keeper blinked in surprise, before scratching the back of their head lightly, when had they become predictable?

“You've never put much stock in anything besides getting the job done.” Sebastian bumped his shoulder into theirs with a proud grin. “Would be surprised if you spent more than two seconds thinking about it.”

“Don't know how you care so little about what other people think of you. Or the name they label you with.” Ominis gave a wry chuckle, his tone was light, but the Keeper knew how much pain lay beneath it and found themselves reaching out towards him instinctively, before remembering that Poppy was still around.

It took the Keeper a moment longer, to also remember that she was someone they could be affectionate in front of, but that was enough time for her to notice them freeze mid motion and she clasped her hands together with a smile.

“I think I'll go find Natty then, we were making plans to spend tomorrow together in Hogsmeade.” Poppy seemed quite happy about this as she asked. “We were thinking of stopping by Vesters and Venom to look at the clothing you’re selling, will you be there tomorrow evening?”

“Probably not, but I'll tell Penny to offer you a friend discount when you do.” The Keeper gave her a knowing smile.

“Ehe. I learnt early on, that connections are everything.” Poppy grinned mischievously, giving them a wink and a wave, as she turned and headed down the trail back towards Hogwarts. “See you guys tomorrow!”

“Till then.” Sebastian replied for the Keeper as they turned their attention to Ominis, taking his hand gently.

“Come now, darling. It's no contest worth winning.” The Keeper placed a kiss on his cheek. “If anything, it takes far more courage to care about others’ feelings, to let it matter to you, but it opens the door to a happiness one can't experience alone. You taught me that, you both taught me that.”

Ominis sighed. “I just wish I could flick my wand and make it stop when I want it to.”

“I don't think you could do that without losing yourself, but maybe we could turn it off temporarily, for a brief respite. If I master my abilities.” The Keeper murmured thoughtfully, before shaking their head. “But even then, it'd be a short-term painkiller, not a long-term solution.”

Ominis smile was pained at the realistic but perhaps cynical statement and the Keeper struggled to find the words to comfort him, when they themselves still struggled with turning the ‘care’ on when they knew it should be.

“Don't let it bog you down, Omi. If we work together, I'm sure we'll find a way to help you feel better.” Sebastian insisted, hugging Ominis from behind, loosely wrapping his arms around the blond's waist, and smiling against his shoulder. “I can't say for certain that there's a way, but we just won't quit till we find one.”

A small smile formed on Ominis lips, and the affection was plain in his distant eyes as he pressed the side of his face against Sebastian’s hair. “Thank you. It- that helps. A little.”

“Well, that's now one thing we've learnt that helps.” The Keeper smiled.

“Ain't that grand? Already making progress.” Sebastian grinned and began nuzzling Ominis’ shoulder with his cheek, which invariably ended up dragging his messy hair across Ominis’ face and tickling his nose.

“Tschu!” Ominis sneezed, quite adorably, in the Keeper's opinion, and groaned, wiggling free from Sebastian's grasp and giving him an annoyed look. “Sebastian!”

“What?” Sebastian's confused expression and sneeze-tossed hair were equally as adorable, as Ominis sighed and withdrew a handkerchief from... seemingly out of thin air. “Hey, where'd you pull that from?”

“A gentleman is never unprepared.” Ominis shrugged and he patted his nose daintily while the Keeper smothered the urge to laugh. “Come, Sebastian. Let us return to Hogwarts, the cold isn't helping any.”

“You could've brought your scarf.” Sebastian patted his hair back down with a pout.

“I know, but the girls looked so comfortable, I simply couldn't bear to take their bed.” Ominis murmured, pausing for a moment before speaking again. “I suppose we'll see you tomorrow at lunch then.”

The Keeper gave an affirmative hum. “Yes, don't worry, I shan't delay longer than necessary.”

The blond sighed and nodded. “Be careful, alright?”

“Of course. Sleep well.” The Keeper smiled, giving him another kiss on a slightly pink cheek and waved the two boys off.

“Don't do anything I wouldn’t.” Sebastian flashed them a broad grin and a wave as he followed Ominis down the path towards Hogwarts.

“Well, that doesn't narrow it down much, now does it.”

“Oh, come on, Omi...”

The two boys’ voices faded in the distance and the Keeper withdrew a small crystal phial from their satchel, holding it up to the moonlight and allowing its rays to fill the smooth surface with its glow. They then spat their Mandrake leaf into the phial, dropped a hair, a silver spoonful of dew, and a moth chrysalis into the phial, boxed it and quickly buried it a distance away from their friends’.

“Tempus.” The Keeper flicked their wand, eight o'clock, good.

It was quite fortuitous that it was fast beginning to transition into winter, and sunset was coming earlier and earlier in the evenings. That meant they would have more time to conduct their business in the pub tonight.

With a faint sense of anticipation and a dash of excitement, the Keeper began making their way to Knockturn Alley.

“Welcome back, little greenie.” Alasdair grinned mildly as the Keeper took a seat at his bar. “Is that a burn on your-”

“Nope, not talking about that.” The Keeper flashed him a tight smile, unsurprised that his sharp eyes had caught what their friends had missed.

“Of course.” The bartender chuckled, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. “What can I get you this fine evening?”

“The house special.” The Keeper answered.

“Would you like a drink with that?” Alasdair asked with a wry smile.

“Sure, why not.” The Keeper shrugged. “Surprise me, just no alcohol, at least tonight.”

“Certainly.” The bartender lifted his shaker and began his mixing. Perhaps he mixed by hand, rather than by magic, because the elder man just really enjoyed the process of mixing drinks, the Keeper idly mused to themselves.

As he poured a brown liquid into the shaker, Alasdair nodded towards a nearby table. “The lass seated over there goes by Faun, she's the fourth person to attempt Borgok's bounty and the first to return alive.”

“Innocuous name for an assassin.” The Keeper commented, curiously eyeing the petite lady seated alone, three tables away, quietly drinking from a large mug. “How long did it take her to give up?”

“Two months.” The bartender replied, pouring the contents of his shaker into a fountain glass. “She's one of our finest Hunters, been doing wet work for almost ten years. Our youngest greenie till you showed up, she was in her early twenties, if I remember correctly.”

“Is that so...” The Keeper mused, that'd put her in her thirties. She sure didn't look thirty, she was even smaller and more dainty in appearance than Poppy.

“Glacius.” Alasdair muttered, tapping a finger against the side of the newly filled glass with his left hand, and it frosted over.

The Keeper blinked down at the brown, lumpy, and rather unappealing looking drink, that he placed before them, with a hollow stick of rolled up paper stabbed in it. That's right, he'd done that the last time too. Casually using the same wandless magic that they were still struggling with under Natty's patient guidance. Show off.

“A blend of chocolate milk and ice, with a shot of espresso for kick. A recent concoction of mine, I’m still thinking of a name for it.” The bartender chuckled when the Keeper picked up the hollow paper with some confusion. “You drink through that. It's called a straw.”

Alasdair's expression was bemused as they took a cautious sip through the paper straw, finding the lumpy bits to be... ice? Tiny flakes of crunchy ice that melted on their tongue into a light bittersweet flavour. There was a moment of silence, before the Keeper realised that he was staring rather expectantly at them.

“It's good.” The Keeper gave him a nod, relaxing when he beamed, and taking a more generous drag. Well, that lent credence to the idea that Alasdair just enjoyed mixology.

“Not too fast, your head will hurt.” He added after a moment, about the same time that the Keeper winced.

Well, he could've mentioned that before they started drinking. They shot the amused bartender an annoyed glare as the back of their head throbbed uncomfortably. Still, to freeze a drink into thin sheets of ice, so finely and evenly dispersed... That was a scary amount of precision to even imagine and with barely any movement beyond the light tap of a finger.

“How... long ago was this?” The Keeper bit out, after the sting in the back of their head had dulled to a more bearable level.

“About five months ago.” Alasdair answered with a chuckle. Bastard. He definitely hadn’t given them an earlier warning of the drink's dangers on purpose.

They glared down at the chocolate drink. They'd have to warn Sebastian if ever they brought him here, he'd surely fall prey to the drink's enticing taste and sensation, lured into consuming it too quickly. Could it cause severe injury? It had been surprisingly painful after all.

Truly, an insidious concoction that could only be invented by a sadist.

“Anything else you think I should know?” The Keeper asked, taking another tentative sip of their drink. Drinking slowly is hard...

“Hm, she can come off a bit... abrasive, but she's direct, much like yourself. So, you shouldn't have too much trouble negotiating for information with her.” Alasdair shrugged. “Just don't ask about anything personal, she's a bit of a hair trigger on personal questions.”

He smirked wryly. “Again, like yourself.”

The Keeper snorted, standing and picking up their glass. “Sounds like we'll get along then.”

“Have fun.” Alasdair waved them off as they left the counter.

Approaching the diminutive lady's table, the Keeper wondered momentarily, if that dark blond puff of thick and curly chin-length hair, got in the way of her work. It was unruly enough to rival Sebastian's permanently windswept locks and at twice the length no less.

“What do you want.” The assassin's voice was surprisingly soft and ladylike, though that certainly didn't detract from the steel in it.

“Information, may I sit?” The Keeper lifted their glass in the direction of the seat across from Faun.

She eyed them suspiciously from under her messy bangs for a solid minute, before returning to her task of draining her pint of clear liquid with a simple. “Suit yourself.”

With a grateful nod, the Keeper took the seat, placing their own glass on the table before them. Hang on, where did that empty mug come from-

Faun lowered her mug to the table with a satisfied exhale, before flashing them a wry smirk. “Guess I shouldn't be that surprised that you ended up here.”

The Keeper tilted their head in confusion, and she flashed them a small smirk. “Not many manage to kill the man who put out a bounty on them, much less a kid with no priors.”

“I take it you didn't give that one a shot.” The Keeper chuckled in understanding.

“Course not, do I look like a fuckin’ moron?” The assassin scoffed, and the Keeper couldn't quite rein in their suggestive smile. Narrowing her eyes at them, Faun raised her mug to her lips again. “Mind your cheek, kid. Could get you killed ‘round these parts.”

“What made you turn that down when you took Borgok's?” The Keeper asked instead.

Faun seemed to think for a moment, finishing her mug and setting it down on the table, before finally replying. “Guess it's regarding you, so I'll give you a greenie freebie and some tips.”

“A man like Rookwood shouldn't need to put a bounty on a fifteen-year-old mud- muggleborn.” The lady caught herself relatively quickly, enough that it felt more like something habitual, rather than anything malicious, interesting. “He ran the largest gang in the Scottish Highlands. If you were an easy mark, he wouldn't need to come to us.”

“Instead, he comes here with a high offer of galleons to kill a child.” Faun snorted, shooting a glare at her empty mug as she spoke. “If that didn't tell me there was more than meets the eye with you, the picture he had of you made it easy enough to recognise the eyes of a killer.”

The Keeper blinked, as an odd sound and air accompanied their next drag from their drink's straw, signalling that their glass was empty and wondering when the heck that creepy pedophile had gotten a photo of them. That was an unsettling thought. They really wished they'd had more time to torture the sick bastard.

“I see.” The Keeper nodded. “Thanks for the freebie.”

“No problem.” Faun replied absently, her eyes tracking the veela waitress as she bustled about the pub. “So, what the fuck did you want?”

“I want to know how your attempt to kill Gnarlak went and any information you got on him.” The Keeper answered.

“You took that contract?” Faun laughed, waving a hand to call the waitress over when she paused to survey the pub. “You've got some bollocks taking on that one. This your first go?”

“Yes. And that is what I've gathered.” The Keeper commented dryly. “I'm willing to pay for the information of course, name your price.”

Faun hummed thoughtfully as the veela waitress stopped by the table. “Nother round, Faun? Yer tab's lookin’ a tad weighty there, me dear.”

The Keeper was mildly surprised to hear the veela speaking in a street drawl this time. Perhaps she didn't bother to put on airs with the Mercs?

The petite assassin grimaced for a moment, before her face lit up and she flashed the Keeper a gregarious smile. “Tell you what, kid. I've had a rough day and I really wanna get hammered. You pay for my drinks tonight and I'll give you everything I know about Gnarlak.”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow, that sounded suspiciously easy.

The veela waitress placed her hands on her hips disapprovingly. “Faun.”

“Stay out of this, Svet. You and Al only facilitate deals.” The assassin glared at the veela.

“They're a kid.” The veela, apparently named Svet, sighed.

“I'm willing to pay for any further drinks you order till the pub’s closing.” The Keeper waved a hand agreeably. “Though, I expect you to pace yourself, at least until you've answered all my questions. If you become too inebriated to answer, I will consider our deal void and forfeit payment.”

Faun's eyes gleamed at them from under the shadow of her bangs. “Oh, trust me, you don't need to worry about that. In fact, let's make it a standing arrangement. If you have more questions about Gnarlak, even after tonight, just leave a letter for me with Alasdair, he has ways of getting owls to his Mercs without being tracked.”

The Keeper chuckled, wow, she really wanted to get sloshed. “Deal.”

“Fantastic.” Faun beamed and turned back to the waitress. “Svet, get me a pint of Sazerac.”

The waitress looked incredibly offended. “A pint-”

“Did I stutter?” Faun smiled brightly at the veela.

“Alasdair's gonna cry.” Svet sighed and turned to leave the table, pausing to give the Keeper a sympathetic look. “Hope ye can afford the tab this'll leave ya, kid.”

Despite feeling slightly offended at being treated like a child, the Keeper could appreciate the well-meant concern, and they were reasonably confident that their bank would hold thankyouverymuch.

Satisfied that her drink was on the way, Faun returned her attention to the Keeper. “What's your name kid?”

“You can call me Salamander.” The Keeper answered, still feeling a bit weird using the moniker.

“Sure thing, Sal. So, what do you wanna know?” Faun gave them an uncaring one shouldered shrug.

“I suppose, for starters, I'd like to know how your attempt went and about the efforts you made.” The Keeper steepled their fingers together.

“Well, for the first three weeks, I made enquiries and watched his Loyalists’ movements to identify the location of his main base.” Faun folded her arms. “It was surprisingly difficult to pin down considering how active they are, but I managed.”

“Where was that?” The Keeper asked, withdrawing a map from their satchel that they'd prepared in advance and laying it on the table.

Faun peered at the map for a few minutes before tapping her finger on its location. “Over here. It's an underground base.”

The Keeper annotated the map with a nod. “What's it like?”

“Fucked up.” Faun replied immediately with a grimace, as the Keeper rolled up the parchment and tucked it away, when the waitress returned with a large Irish imperial pint glass. Immediately the assassin's face lit up like a child's.

Snatching the mug with both hands from Svet's, before she could set it down on the table, Faun took a deep and noisy glug for... long enough that the Keeper was wondering if the girl had gills or some other way of intaking oxygen, before finally stopping to breathe. “Haaa! Hell yeah, that's the shit.”

“Let me guess. Another?” The waitress asked dryly.

“Of course, nothin’ hits the spot like Al's Sazerac.” Faun sighed happily as she set down the nearly empty glass. Surprisingly, she didn't seem very affected. “Hope you told him about my deal.”

“Course I did, Alasdair's already working on the next one.” Svet answered with a shake of her head.

“How strong is that?” The Keeper asked curiously.

“Strongest drink in the house.” Svet answered with an exasperated shrug as she headed back towards the bar with a parting wave.

“And the best tasting drink at that. I usually drink vodka straight, tastes like piss water but it's cheaper.” Faun chuckled and the Keeper gave a snort, well, that explained Svet's concern, hopefully the information they got would be worth the hole in their coin pouch.

“So, what makes Gnarlak’s base so fucked up?” The Keeper asked.

“Ugh, where do I even begin.” She grimaced, lifting her pint to drain the remaining liquid before continuing. “Well for starters, it's tiny. Ceiling's built to goblin height. Even I have to crouch to move about in there.”

The Keeper frowned, huh. Then again, Gnarlak was high in Ranrok's ranks, he might have known about them breaking into one of the Loyalist mines with Amit and designed his bases with that in mind.

“It's also booby trapped to hell and back.” Faun added, pausing to accept a new pint from Svet as the woman stopped by to drop the glass off, not even bothering to ask if another was needed. “Almost lost an arm to the walls, steer clear of those. The goblins have no need to hug them, unlike an assassin might.”

An intelligent opponent, the Keeper frowned thoughtfully as Faun drained her new glass, that explained all the failed attempts.

“Vents are fucked too, there's spring weighted spikes lining the sides, and it took me a week to figure out how to disable them without tripping the alarm.” She sighed with a disgusted expression. “Merlin, that one time was a pain in the arse. Thought I'd found a passageway I could use but the damn corridor was filled with oil. Barely got away with my life, ruined my clothes and shoes though.”

The Keeper gave her a bemused smile as she returned to her drink, rather impressed that she still didn't seem to be affected by the amount of alcohol that she'd already put away. How was such a small sized woman drinking that much?

“Took me a month to secure a path in and out of Gnarlak’s office.” Faun continued as she added the newly emptied glass to the growing collection. “Watched the goblins, studied their patterns and chose a time to attack while Gnarlak was occupied in his office.”

“I suppose I don't need to ask how that went.” The Keeper flashed a sardonic smile as Svet dropped by with another glass.

“No shit, thought I'd gotten a clean kill and then I realised that goblin wasn't missing his left middle finger. It was pure luck that I spotted a blade coming for my neck in the reflection of the dead goblin's armour.” Faun grimaced. “The bastard let me kill a double and I barely got out with my life, two months of work wasted. Realised that goblin was way out of my league and dropped the mission.”

The assassin started working on her new glass as the Keeper frowned thoughtfully. So, their foe was intelligent, sly, and willing to sacrifice his own for a kill. Sounded like a right scumbag that shouldn't be underestimated.

There was a moment of subdued silence, before Faun met their gaze with a disturbed frown. “There's something wrong with his goblins. They don't move right, their eyes are empty and they don't talk amongst themselves.”

The Keeper frowned as well. That was certainly unusual, Ranrok's Loyalists had constantly been ranting about their hatred of wizardkind or what they wanted out of attaining victory over the wizarding world. Whatever that meant. They never really seemed to have much plans beyond that vague goal.

“There's something eerie about their behaviour. And they use a strange and powerful magic that I've never seen before. They're not like Ranrok's Loyalists, they don't plunder towns for resources, they're just there to kill.” Faun shook her head as though trying to shake off the memories of whatever she'd seen, and as she did so, the Keeper caught a glimpse of a pointed ear under that messy puff of hair.

Huh, perhaps the diminutive woman was part creature, it would explain her absurd tolerance.

“I don't know what their objective is, but even the ministry can't discount this, I spotted some Aurors scoping out the base's region too. It won't be long before this contract becomes unclearable, so you better get it done quickly.” The assassin finished and continued draining her glass.

Folding their arms, the Keeper nodded. This complicated things. If Aurors were investigating the base, it would make it harder for themselves to assassinate Gnarlak without being detected, and this information was already five months out of date. They were on a timer, even more so than they'd expected.

Borgok must truly have been desperate indeed, when he asked them to take the job. If the Ministry, despite how slow and ineffective they were, were already beginning to take this goblin more seriously than Ranrok, war was likely closer than he’d like.

“Did Gnarlak ever leave the base?” The Keeper asked as Faun finished her glass.

“Not often from what I could tell, though he would occasionally vanish off my radar, so I'd say he probably does.” Faun shrugged, happily accepting yet another glass from the waitress as she passed by. “I couldn't find out where he was going, but if you can, it'd probably be better to get him then, he doesn't seem to bring anyone with him.”

The Keeper nodded. “If you remember anything else that might be of use, leave a letter for me with Alasdair.”

“Sure thing, Sal.” Faun lowered her glass just enough to speak before continuing to drink, cheeks finally beginning to turn a light pink under her messy bangs.

“Enjoy the rest of your night then.” With a shake of their head, the Keeper stood, the petite assassin waving her hand at them absently in lieu of a farewell, as they made their way back to the bar.

“I take it that went well?” Alasdair smiled wryly at the Keeper as they took their seat again.

“Indeed, sorry about that. How are you doing? Keeping up with her.” The Keeper nodded at the pint glass he was filling.

“Oh, don't worry about that, I have enough patrons like her, we're well prepared.” The bartender chuckled, waving a hand towards the row of empty glasses to his right and several bottles on the left. “Guild aside, this is still my main job.”

“I see.” The Keeper snorted in amusement. “Speaking of your job, Faun tells me you had a picture of me on my bounty.”

“I did, but when contracts are voided, all existing copies burn away.” Alasdair flashed them an innocent smile.

“Uhuh.” The Keeper eyed him sceptically. “I'm sure you're not keeping a copy.”

His smile widened. “Don't flatter yourself, kid. You're not that pretty.”

“Prettier than you, old man.” They snorted.

“Pretty enough for my age.” Alasdair adjusted his tiny spectacles, and the Keeper eyed him speculatively.

He flashed them a dark grin. “You don't want to know, kid.”

“Fair enough.” The Keeper shrugged, it wasn't any of their business anyway. As long as he didn't do anything untoward with any photographs of them, they supposed they could leave it be. “Make me another one of that chocolate drink when you're free.”

“Sure thing.” Alasdair's expression immediately brightened.

As he busied himself about the drinks, the Keeper folded their arms on the counter and pondered their conundrum. Honestly, they'd love to track the goblin themselves, they enjoyed a good hunt as much as Sebastian did, but with their Hogwarts classes and NEWTs to keep up with...

Fuck, if only they had more time. They highly doubted they could afford to wait till the Christmas holidays. It couldn't be helped. They would have to outsource for this one.

“Here you go, kid.” Alasdair smiled merrily as he placed a glass of lumpy brown sludge on the counter. “I went a little lighter on the expresso this time, wouldn't want it to keep you up after you leave.”

“Thanks.” The Keeper nodded as they accepted the drink and took a glance at the clock hanging on the wall nearby. It was almost eleven, well, at least they'd kept their Sunday morning free so they could sleep in.

“Say, old man, you wouldn't happen to know someone who's real good at covert subterfuge, would you?” The Keeper asked casually, taking a sip from their glass. It was a little less bitter and aromatic but was still delicious enough to not be worth complaints.

“Looking for a partner to work with on this Hunt?” Alasdair returned the question, looking quite unsurprised at the notion.

The Keeper nodded. “I don't have the time to stalk my prey while I'm in school. Maybe during the Christmas holidays, but not while Hogwarts is in session.”

“Understandable.” The bartender nodded, continuing to mix Faun's drinks with a thoughtful expression. “Normally, I wouldn’t consider it an option, but... he might be a good fit, if you can get him to work with you. One of our older members. He's got the best track record for, well, tracking, information gathering, and spying. Name's Owl Post.”

Alasdair chuckled at the Keeper's incredulous expression. “Yes, I had a similar response when he chose the moniker. He seemed to think it appropriate, since owls are remarkably capable of finding the person you've addressed your letter to, even if you're using an alias or don't want to be found.”

The Keeper snorted in amusement. Fair point, the enchantments on post owls in the wizarding world were quite absurd.

“Though, ironically the man himself is renowned for being uncontactable via owl post and more poignantly, for refusing to aid wet work. Not fond of killing, that one. Even though, with his skill, he'd probably be the deadliest assassin in Britain if he did.” The bartender gave them an appraising smile. “But you might have an advantage with him.”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Got a soft spot for orphan kids, he does. Your age might give you an edge in negotiations.” Alasdair chuckled, and the Keeper rolled their eyes at the pun. They only entertained bad jokes from Sebastian.

“Well, I won't complain.” The Keeper shrugged. “Appreciate if you can get me a meeting with him too.”

“Heard from a friend that he's back in town, after his last job. Stick around tonight and if you're lucky, he might show up.” The bartender shrugged. “That one's like the wind, comes and goes as he pleases.”

The Keeper nodded, well, they couldn't be waiting all night, but they'd give it till their drink was finished at least. As they took another sip from their glass, they felt someone approaching the counter behind them, finding it to be a tall individual of indiscernible gender.

“Alasdair.” The stranger nodded at the bartender without acknowledging the Keeper and they easily took the hint.

“See you later, old man.” The Keeper gave Alasdair a parting nod, collected their glass and left the bar counter to find an empty table at the back corner of the pub, where they took a seat in view of the door and the bar. While the guildmaster conducted business with what was most likely another Merc.

The next hour or so were spent idly observing the other patrons of the establishment, watching the various groups of people and creatures from all walks of life interact. It was so different compared to eateries in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, where patrons were almost exclusively human or demihuman with just enough human characteristics to blend in.

Here, nought mattered save merit and coin. That's not to say that there wasn't racism, still lingering over the tables shared by creatures and wizardkind, but it was noticeably secondary to business.

The Keeper imagined that this was probably as good as it could get. People, regardless of race or species, would never stop judging each other, but at least they could keep it to themselves and work together, putting aside differences and striving to reach their goals.

It was near midnight, the flakes of ice in their glass had melted away and the pub’s business seemed to be slowing, when the Keeper noticed the veela waitress approaching their table.

“Lemme guess. Exclusively Hunter, right?” Svet rested a hand on their table, leaning her hip against it with an air of nonchalance.

The Keeper raised a questioning eyebrow in response.

“Bloody hell, if I hadn't heard ya speak with Alasdair 'n Faun, I'd think ye were mute.” The woman grumbled.

Curious and mildly amused, the Keeper hummed. “What do you mean by ‘exclusively Hunter’?”

“Ya know, killing people, animals, creatures n’ stuff, assassinations, wet work, doin’ that sorta thing's Hunter territory. Mercenary's just kinda general, covers all the jobs, even stuff like fetching things, escort missions, tracking n’ all kinds ‘o work.” She shrugged and they nodded in understanding.

“I see, thank you for explaining.” The Keeper gave her a faint smile. “Then, no, I'm a Mercenary, open to any type of work if the price is right. Except prostitution.”

The veela chuckled, seeming to take their willingness to speak for invitation and dropped into the seat across from them with a snicker. “Right shame, that. Many people'd love ta bed someone with a gob like yers, even with the scars.”

The Keeper couldn't quite keep the grimace from their face and a look of understanding crossed hers. The veela flashed them a more sympathetic and bitter smile.

“So that's what it is... sorry kid. Ya don't gotta worry ‘bout that. Alasdair's the good sort, doesn't let those kinda folk in here, got me off the market 'n gave me good work, away from that.” She shook the distaste from her face and grinned. “In 'ere, I can pull out my charm just fer kicks 'n tips. Yer safe 'ere, ‘n once ya get ye mask, in all ‘o Phantom territory. Alasdair's Mercs are under 'is protection in Knockturn.”

Unaccustomed to being seen through that quickly, the Keeper gave her a curt nod and averted their eyes.

Perhaps it wasn't too surprising for a veela, a creature who exuded sexual allure, to have been sex trafficked, and likely to a worse extent than themselves, no doubt. At least the boys at the orphanage had to avoid being caught by the caretakers. Nor was it a surprise that Alasdair was a defender of more than little poacher girls.

The Keeper paused, hang on. “Mask?”

“Alasdair hadn't toldya ‘bout that?” The veela blinked in surprise, before rolling her eyes. “Senile ol’ fart.”

“Phantom Mercs get a personalised mask fer goin’ about business outside the pub, when ya don't wanna be recognised fer nothin’ but ya Merc identity n’ what guild you belong ta.” She explained. “Makes it easier ta get info sometimes, when ol’ Alasdair's reputation will get ya credibility. Gotta be careful course, some places, that'll put a mark on ye back instead.”

Made sense, the Keeper nodded. That'd be useful, but first they'd have to clear Borgok's bounty.

“What made you think I was exclusively a Hunter?” The Keeper asked curiously.

“Yer eyes, kid. Know a killer when I see one.” The woman chuckled. “Seen ‘nough of ‘em in my line ‘o work. More surprised that a kid rich ‘nough ta pay off Faun's tab ain't from a well-off background like 'er.”

“Speaking of which, don't you have to bring her drinks?” The Keeper asked, glancing over at the petite assassin's table, only to find it empty. Huh, they hadn't even noticed her leaving.

“Ha, Faun went back up ta her room ta drink ‘erself silly, the elves handle delivering to the inn.” Svet shrugged, glancing about absently. “Was gettin’ bored so I figured I'd come over ta chat with ya.”

The Keeper snorted, perhaps Ominis’ polite and unassuming vibe was rubbing off on them. It was surprising how easily they'd gotten accustomed to Hogwarts and its people living in the light.

“Oh, bollocks.” The veela suddenly turned away from the door just off to her right and the Keeper tensed up in caution. “Hey, how's my hair looking?”

The Keeper stared at her in bewilderment for a moment, before realising that her cheeks were flushed bright pink and she was taking surreptitious glances towards the door, where a rather lanky middle-aged man was waltzing into the pub.

“Heeeey, Jouster!” The lanky man loudly greeted as he removed his hat, revealing a messy mop of light brown hair, and clasped the broad shoulder of a large man seated at one of the tables. “How's business going? Oh, that reminds me, I got somethin’ for yer kid!”

The lanky guy grinned widely and dug through the large and heavy looking rucksack hefted over his shoulder.

“Owl? Thought you were dead, mate!” The man, apparently named Jouster laughed, slapping the skinnier man in the back and almost knocking him to the floor.

“What, me? Come on, I can't afford to die, I've got mouths to feed!” The lanky man laughed, pulling out a soft toy from his bag with a flourish and presenting it to the larger man. “Look, I found a vermillion phoenix plush while I was sneaking through France. Your daughter likes phoenixes, right?”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow, so that was the best tracker and information gatherer in the guild... Owl Post. How on earth was such a loud and affable man, with a name that ridiculous, the most covert person in Alasdair's guild?

They watched with avid interest, as Owl spent the next thirty minutes bouncing from table to table, greeting the patrons as though he were friends with everyone in the pub. It was somewhere between impressive and unsettling, how easily he slipped into conversations and then slipped right back out without much disruption or notice.

He stopped by Alasdair's bar for a moment, before continuing to flit about the pub's tables, until finally he seemed to have finished his rounds and arrived at their table in the back.

Sparing the Keeper a curious glance, he wore a brilliant smile as he greeted the veela waitress, who was now sitting in an oddly prim manner. “My dearest Svetlana, a very good evening to you! You look lovely as always, the pub would be ever so frigid without your warm and glowing presence.”

The waitress smiled as he bowed with a flourish, and before she could speak, withdrew from his pack, a large and beautiful red crystal rose. “I came across this along my travels and it immediately brought your fairness to mind!”

“Oh, you.” Svetlana blushed as she accepted the ornament. “And what poor peddler did you steal this from?”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow at her, she was back to speaking without a cockney accent.

“You wound me my dear. I assure you, I merely liberated it from the confines of a dastardly scoundrel's ill-gotten gains.” Owl placed a hand over his heart, somehow coming across impossibly more dramatic than Sebastian and Garreth combined.

“Well, in that case, I shall keep this token with fondness.” Svetlana magically tucked the ornament somewhere under her apron and as she did so, she spotted a patron waving his hand for her attention. “I should probably get back to work. It was good to see you again, Owl. You really must come by more often.”

“Oh, how could I deny the request of a lovely lady like yourself.” Owl gave her another bow. “In fact, if you like, I would be free to keep you company tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps around three?”

“Why not? That sounds wonderful.” Svetlana gave him a smile as she leaned across the table to collect the Keeper’s empty glass. Coincidentally, no doubt, flashing Owl what was likely a lovely view and gave the Keeper a wink. “See you sometime, kid.”

The Keeper gave her a nod and the lanky man waved her off with a bright smile. “Till tomorrow!”

Seemingly done flirting with the waitress, the beaming man dropped into the seat she'd just vacated.

“And it's very nice to meet you, Salamander. Alasdair tells me you wanted to speak with me.” Owl greeted, digging through his pack for a moment, before presenting the Keeper with a large rainbow coloured lollipop. “Do you like sweets?”

They gave him a silent, incredulous glare and he shrugged, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth.

“Sho, ‘ow can I ‘elp ‘ou?” Owl asked, his question barely legible around the lollipop in his grinning mouth.

“...I'm currently in a contract with Borgok to assassinate the goblin rebellion leader, Gnarlak.” The Keeper explained after a moment, deciding to ignore his bizarre behaviour. “I'd like your assistance with tracking his movements, so I can finish the job when he's alone outside his base.”

“I shee I shee.” The man's smile didn't waver as he pulled the lollipop from his mouth. “Could you excuse me for a moment, kid?”

The Keeper raised an eyebrow when Owl stood and, with nary a change in expression, flung his lollipop at Alasdair behind the counter, who easily caught the piece of candy by the stick before it could hit him in the face. Then, in a burst of surprising speed, the skinny tracker sprinted across the pub to grab the bartender by the lapels.

“Alasdair! How could you let a kid do wet work in here!?” Owl shouted, shaking the man aggressively, or at least trying to, for it seemed as though he would have had more luck getting a pillar to budge than the larger bartender.

The Keeper looked to the doorman, surprised that he wasn't doing something about this and that the rest of the pub wasn't even acknowledging the commotion that Owl was causing, beyond an amused glance here and there.

The bartender and the lanky man exchanged several words that the Keeper couldn't quite catch at this distance, so they stood and made their way to the bar counter.

Taking a seat on one of the barstools and folding their arms on the countertop, the Keeper gave Owl an annoyed glare. “Look, if you don't want to work with a teenager, it's fine.”

Owl stared at the Keeper with a slack jaw for a solid minute, before Alasdair shoved the lollipop, that he was still holding, back into the tracker's open mouth, which seemed to bring the man back to himself.

Pulling the candy from his mouth, Owl shook his head emphatically as Alasdair quietly returned to his drink mixing. “It's not that, kid! You shouldn't be doing that kind of thing here! I would have a word with your parents!”

The Keeper shrugged. “Yeah, sure, if you can find them. I would too if I knew who or where they were.”

At that, Owl flinched, and, to their irritation, his expression became sad. They didn't normally care about others knowing their status as an orphan, but it was annoying when it came with disrespect or pity, especially considering that they were looking to hire the man.

“Do you need money, kid? Is that why you're doing this?” The lanky tracker asked. “If it's money, I can-”

“It's not.” The Keeper interrupted flatly. “Not entirely. And I'm not interested in charity, if you're offering payment in exchange for something, that's another story. But at the moment, all I want to know is if you're willing to assist me with my job and the cost of your services.”

“Trust me kid, it's not worth it. Al says six people have already died trying to do this job.” Owl insisted.

“And?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow at the man.

“And there's other ways of making money!” Owl answered. “If you need something specific, I'm sure I can get it for you.”

“No, you can't. And I survived having a bounty on my head for a year, I'll manage thanks.” The Keeper gave him a glare, quickly running out of patience. “Look, it's a simple yes or no. If you refuse, I'll just ask for someone else's help or handle it myself.”

“Wait wait wait-” Owl groaned, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes for several moments, before sighing, lowering his hands in defeat, and dropping heavily into the stool beside them. “Fine. Alright. I'll help you.”

The Keeper was mildly surprised that he'd conceded, but after all that, they weren't about to turn him down if he was willing to work. “Now we're talking. Name your price.”

“I can't believe I'm agreeing to this.” Owl muttered as he scrubbed a hand over his face. “...did you really survive having a bounty on your head for a year?”

With a roll of their eyes, the Keeper jerked their chin towards Alasdair. “Ask him.”

At Owl's look, Alasdair chuckled. “The kid's right, old Rookwood placed a bounty on them two years ago, and they took both him and a good number of our Hunters out within a year.”

“Two years ago!?” Owl's eyes were round, and he gave the Keeper an unsettled glance, before shaking his head in disbelief. “Merlin's beard, Alasdair. What cult did you rescue this one from?”

The bartender flashed him a wry smile as he filled another pint glass of now familiar-looking Sazerac, Jesus, was Faun still drinking? The Keeper felt a pang of grief for their wallet.

“If someone saved them, it wasn't me.” Alasdair shrugged. “Kid's still in Hogwarts.”

“They're that young!? Helga help me. Have the standards dropped more than my grades since I was there?” Owl's expression was quite appalled when the Keeper glanced at him, feeling slightly offended perhaps. Helga, as in Helga Hufflepuff? Somehow, they weren't that surprised that the affable man had been a puff.

“I think this one’s just built different.” The bartender smirked.

“I'm right here, you know.” The Keeper commented dryly, and, noticing that their throat was feeling equally so, after the sweet drinks, added. “And some water would be nice, old man.”

“Certainly.” Alasdair flicked a finger, and a mug began to fill itself with water from a barrel's tap, evidently a task not worth doing manually.

“And you.” The Keeper turned to Owl. “Your price, name it.”

The man wore a thoughtful expression for a few seconds, before meeting their eyes with a firm gaze. “If I help you, this will be your last Hunt. No more wet work.”

The Keeper immediately stood. “Thanks for your time, I'll do it myself.”

“Wait wait wait, alright, okay, I won't ask for that!” Owl waved his hands desperately to block them and they glared at him as they retook their seat.

With a reluctant sigh, the man shook his head. “Galleons will suffice, if you can spare the coin, and I'm willing to accept other means of payment if necessary. The price will vary depending on how much effort and time it takes to get your information and how dangerous the process is, so I'll only be able to tell you afterwards.”

The Keeper eyed Owl suspiciously and he gave them a wry smile. “I promise you that I won't charge an inordinate amount and I'm a man of my word.”

Alasdair placed the mug of water on the counter in front of the Keeper with a sound of agreement. “Owl here's got a reputation for being unreasonably cheap.”

Well, that's reassuring, the Keeper mentally rolled their eyes, that certainly didn't mean they were going to just take either man at their word, but for now, they had little else to go on or any real sense of scale. They'd just have to see.

“Very well then.” The Keeper nodded at Owl, before pausing uncertainly and asking Alasdair. “I’m assuming a deal like this warrants a contract?”

“It does.” The bartender nodded and offered them a small blank scroll. “The process is identical to that of your contract with Borgok. Except that you'll write first since you're the one offering the job.”

The Keeper nodded, taking the scroll and the blood quill from the bartender, and the next few minutes were spent repeating the steps they'd undergone last weekend.

When the contract was settled and their copy put away, the Keeper pulled the map from their satchel and unrolled it for Owl to examine. “Here's the location of Gnarlak's base.”

Raising their mug of water to take a drink and wash down the taste of the painkiller and wiggenweld, the Keeper waited for Owl to copy the marked location of the base onto his own map. Before relaying to him the information that Faun had given them and showing him their copy of the contract with Borgok, so that he now knew Gnarlak’s face.

“Alright, I'll drop by next Saturday evening to give you an update. What time's good for you?” He asked.

“Nine works.” The Keeper answered, that'd give them ample time to get here after Natty's wandless lesson.

“Got it. I don't have any other jobs at the moment, so it shouldn't take very long. I understand that you're pressed for time, so I'll endeavour to work fast.” Owl nodded.

“Much appreciated.” The Keeper gave him a nod in return, glancing at the clock to find it a little after two in the morning. “Then I'll leave you here. Thanks Alasdair, let me know next weekend how much I owe you.”

The bartender also nodded with a faint smile. “Hope you can actually afford Faun's bill, it's looking out just shy of thirty galleons at the moment.”

The Keeper grimaced, bloody hell, that was absurd indeed. That woman’s drink was going to cost them more than Ominis’ scarf had, they'd probably need to have him sell the poacher some of the dragon's bones next weekend to afford it. “I'll manage.”

“Faun!?” Owl exclaimed aghast. “How does a kid have enough money to pay that alcoholic's tab?”

“Maybe God wanted to make up for my shitty childhood.” The Keeper shrugged, missing the shrewd look that Owl gave them for the comment as they finished their water. In the end, the dragon mother had ended up being such a tremendous gift... in more ways than one. They lowered the empty cup with a sigh, feeling oddly tired now that everything was said and done. “Alright, I should get going if I want to wake up before noon tomorrow, so I'll bid you both farewell.”

“Maybe I should walk yo-” Owl began.

“Good day.” The Keeper interrupted and stood, their footsteps followed by Alasdair's deep laughter, as they left a pouting Owl in their wake.

Well, at least delegating their most time-consuming task to another had gone smoothly, now they could leave the information gathering to Owl, and just focus on every other one of the million things they still needed to juggle.

Greaaaaaaat.

Chapter Text

“Natty and Poppy are late again?” Garreth asked, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the unused classroom, in which the group of seven normally gathered in for Natty’s Animagus lessons.

“Yeaaap, and so are you.” Sebastian muttered from where he lay, draped across the floor with his head in Ominis’ lap, the blond idly braiding a handful of his thick brown curls.

With a roll of his eyes, Garreth dropped onto the floor between Amit and the Keeper, who both had their noses buried in a book respectively.

“You planning to take up carpentry?” Garreth raised an eyebrow at the Keeper, after reading the title of their book.

“What? No?” The Keeper gave him a confused look.

“Then why are you reading a book on door designs?” He asked.

“Because, unlike Sebastian, I don't have an eidetic memory.” The Keeper answered, which evidently just confounded Garreth further and he looked to Amit for help.

As he did so, he caught a glimpse of Amit's book, along with its title, Rocket Travel Through Space, and did a double take. “Hold on, is that a muggle book?”

“Mhm.” Amit hummed absently. “Muggle understanding and observation of the cosmos is far behind us, but we don't have a way of actually going up there. Professor Shah says the Muggles want to, and I must say that I'm fairly impressed by their drive to solve the mysteries of the universe.”

“Isn't space empty and devoid of air?” Garreth asked. “Seems rather silly to think we'd be able to survive up there.”

Amit shot him an indignant look and was about to speak, when Sebastian snorted. “Can’t be as empty as your skull, devoid of critical thought. Nothing's impossible when enough people put their heads together to do it.”

Brightening at Sebastian's words, Amit nodded emphatically. “Exactly! We may not see it in our lifetime, but I believe that one day, our descendants may touch the celestial bodies in our twilight sky.”

“That's right.” The Keeper offered their agreement. “Nothing is over until you give up.”

“Or you die.” Ominis huffed as he finished his braiding and tied a small rubber band around the ends of Sebastian's hair.

“Everyone dies eventually.” Sebastian shook his head, the short braid sticking out of his hair bouncing with every movement. “I think it's better to live life doing your best and maybe go out with something to leave behind, don't you?”

“...I suppose I can't really argue when you put it that way.” Ominis grudgingly relented with a sigh. “Just as long as it's not too early.”

Looking quite put off that Sebastian had won the popular vote in the room and drawn all the attention, Garreth decided to change the subject. “Speaking of not being early, is it just me or have Poppy and Natty been arriving late for pretty much everything?”

The Keeper blinked. “I suppose so, now that you mention it.”

“What's the rush? It's not like we have anything to do while waiting for a lightning storm.” Amit shrugged, jabbing a thumb at the Keeper. “We're just here cheering this one on.”

“I feel much cheer.” The Keeper stated accordingly, managing to tickle a chuckle out of Ominis with the flatness of their tone.

“Yeah yeah, but do you guys think they're dating?” Garreth grinned, looking more excited than the Keeper felt was warranted. “I saw Poppy and Natty holding hands in Hogsmeade last Sunday.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Amit shrugged again. “They've been awfully close since last year.”

“It would be nice if they were.” The Keeper murmured, they weren't exactly guilty about it, but they'd be happy if Poppy were pursuing someone who could, and would, actually reciprocate her feelings.

Before anyone else could further speculate, the door opened to admit Poppy and Natty, the latter of whom wore an apologetic smile as she spoke. “My apologies for the wait.”

The girls were breathing heavily, and at that, Garreth's grin became suggestive. “What were you guys doing?”

Amit immediately lobbed his book at Garreth, while Ominis gave them a smile. “It's quite alright, it's not even been half an hour.”

Giving the blind boy a grateful smile, Poppy then noticed that Ominis was wearing his scarf, which he only wore indoors when-

“Oh! Are the twins with you?” Poppy shuffled over quickly and kneeled beside Ominis.

With a chuckle, he hissed softly, and the sound was followed by more hisses, before two little heads wiggled out from under his scarf to peer at Poppy.

“Hello little ones!” Poppy greeted enthusiastically, reaching out to scratch under the snakes’ jaws.

The Keeper watched fondly, it was nice that their friends had been receptive when told that Ominis was a parselmouth and had been quite welcoming towards the twin snakes. Poppy had been delighted as expected, and Natty had regarded the girls like any other familiar of a Hogwarts student, which Ominis seemed to appreciate.

While Amit had been slightly uneasy around the snakes, he'd warmed up to them after a few weeks, and Garreth had been near green with envy that Ominis had a rare two headed pet. Not that the Gryffindor wanted snakes for a familiar, mind you, but the idea of having something so rare was apparently its own reward.

“Do you mind if we begin?” The Keeper asked Natty, as they put away their book and stood. “I have somewhere to be, after our lesson.”

“Of course.” Natty nodded with a wry smile. “It's my fault we're starting late after all.”

Drawing their wand, the Keeper flipped the stick and offered it to Ominis by the handle, entrusting their most faithful companion to him for safekeeping.

Natty had explained, during their first lesson, that the bond between wizardkind and the wand that chose them, could allow the wand to aid them as long as it was near them. So, every time they started their wandless lesson, they would pass it to one of their partners.

As much as they loved their wand, the Keeper was more eager to no longer be reliant upon it.

Leaving the group huddled on the floor, chatting on one end of the classroom, the Keeper joined Natty on the other.

“Have you been meditating?” Natty asked as they came to stand by her side.

“Yes.” The Keeper nodded, it had been easy to work that in, in place of their occlumency meditation.

“Shall we see if you've made any progress?” Natty asked with a smile, laying out a miniature Summoner's Court across the floor. “Remember, let it flow like the ocean's waves cresting against the shore.”

Taking a deep breath, the Keeper raised their hand towards a ball and closed their eyes. Trying to visualise the beach to the west of Dìon, the ebbing rhythm of water splitting around rocks and crashing against the cliffside.

“Accio.” The Keeper opened their eyes and made a grabbing motion. Only for the ball to roll to them with about the same energy as it would if someone had walked past and accidentally caught it on the corner of their shoe.

“Hm.” Natty folded her arms thoughtfully. “The fact that you're able to move it at all, means you have the capacity to cast wandless magic. But it almost feels like you're fighting your instinct.”

“Instinct.” The Keeper echoed flatly, wondering what exactly she meant, the word was so broad that it could mean anything from inborn physical reflexes to conditioned responses.

“That's right, you're cutting off your magic output halfway, rather than regulating it. Controlling something to keep its flow regulated and at a constant pace, is not the same as controlling something by suppressing it entirely.” Natty explained.

“I’m not sure I understand the difference.” The Keeper frowned. “How does it feel to do the former?”

“Well, you need to relax and go with the flow. Be one with it and accept those feelings in the same manner as you would your place as a part of the world.” Natty waved her hands to illustrate. “Let the harmony and peace of nature flow through you.”

The Keeper stared at her, absolutely none of that made sense. What was harmonic about nature? Where was the peace in territorial disputes, or the predatory nature of the animal kingdom? Animal hierarchy was constantly thrown into chaos from within, in power struggles, just like human organisations.

Speaking of humans, every human being was consuming someone else's resources just by existing. Animals, insects, and plants displaced by agricultural and animal farms, spreading like a virus, pouring lead and smoke into the world. Growing up in the smog choked slums of London and then being introduced to the Scottish Highlands was still something their mind struggled with.

Only the rich could pretend that the glorious Soot London wasn't a cesspit. Beside the Black Lake or Dìon's rivers, the disgusting River Thames bore no comparison. It felt more akin to two separate worlds that the Keeper couldn't reconcile, villages that looked right out of a storybook had no place beside the starless city they'd grown up in.

For that was the nature they knew.

After a few long moments, the Keeper sighed and decided to speak plainly. “Sorry, I have more experience with human nature than nature.”

Their grimace made it clear their opinion of said human nature, and Natty gave them a sympathetic smile. “Ah, I suppose you haven't seen much that's peaceful among people.”

The Keeper smiled with some relief, it was nice to have friends here who understood their perspective, having also suffered the cruelty of men like Harlow. The more fortunate kids in the school wouldn't understand, and the Keeper would be lying if they said it wasn't a bit of a drain, being an outsider purely due to having different lived experiences.

“In nature, in natural life, there's a flow. One that you could perhaps compare to a circle, a cycle without beginning or end.” Natty explained.

The Keeper frowned and folded their arms. “What circle? I thought life was more like a line. You're born, you live, and then you die.”

“Well, from death comes new life. The bodies of the dead go on to nourish the earth, and then the earth nourishes plants. The plants nourish animals, the animals nourish the earth with their bodies, and so the cycle continues.” Natty elaborated patiently.

The Keeper, on the other hand, wasn't quite as patient and they frowned. “Then what of the coal we burn and the poisons we throw into the Thames. Does humanity then not simply break the circle?”

Natty folded her arms. “Well, I suppose many do, but I refer then, to nature without humanity’s interference. One where all instinctively know and have a place.”

“I suppose that is where I struggle with understanding your idea of nature. In my experience, following your instinct is more likely to get you killed and one's place depends more on money and power, rather than being something naturally occurring.” The Keeper sighed.

Following their instincts and fighting back rather than submitting, would have led to their death a thousand times over after all, and reacting instinctively when someone came up behind them would quickly become a problem in Hogwarts. After all these years of supressing their first reactions, releasing the tight restraints on their emotions and reactions was almost unimaginable.

Yet, ever since Fig showed up before them, the word ‘unimaginable’ ceased to have meaning.

Nothing was impossible. If a street rat like them could become as powerful as they already were, anything and everything else was within reach.

The Keeper gave Natty a determined nod. “But, very well. I shall try.”

Natty patted them on the shoulder encouragingly and the Keeper raised their hand towards the ball again, struggling to allow their thoughts to go where they will, led by their feelings. They thought of moving the ball, of the amount of effort they'd been putting into this whole wandless exercise, alongside everything else they'd been struggling to keep up with.

Of how little time they'd had to rest between classes, homework and lessons from Rackham. How anxious they were, over whether they could trust Owl and Alasdair or not. Whether Shai would be a danger to them as the dragon grew older and more uncontrollable, if they would find a way to coexist with a territorial dragon on their land.

After everything they'd overcome, by Merlin, they would have this goddamn inanimate little ball submit to them too.

“Accio.” The Keeper’s eyes narrowed, and cast.

Immediately the ball flew... off to the side, slammed into the wall, bounced off it, and sailed across the room.

The Keeper felt their skin prickle, as five pairs of eyes followed the rolling ball for a few moments, before drifting up to them. The urge to storm across the room, grab, and flatten the ball, was quickly smothered and the Keeper sighed.

“Perhaps we should take a break.” Natty placed a comforting hand on their shoulder.

The Keeper wanted to protest, wanted to insist on continuing until they'd mastered this bloody ball, but they knew how it would make them look to her, and to the others.

So, they nodded and began crossing the room back towards their friends. “Sure.”

“It's natural to be frustrated.” Natty reassured as she fell in stride with them.

Her words were doubtless meant to assuage, but only served to fan their frustration. Perhaps there was a tad too much anger ever boiling under their skin, for them to allow it to run free like the other teenagers did. To have an ability that their own nature prevented them from mastering, was probably the most bitter irony that the Keeper had yet tasted.

“Most children, just starting to learn magic in Uagadou, struggle to control their output while they’re still young, especially when they're upset, since it relies on emotional regulation.” Natty murmured thoughtfully and the Keeper fought to keep the scowl from their face.

In other words, they had about as much skill in emotional regulation as a child. Great.

“But they don't usually have problems exerting magic once they understand the spells, unless they've gotten accustomed to using a wand as a crutch, like the British do." Natty continued as she sat back down on the floor.

“That makes sense. Wands help us to channel our magic, drawing it out of our bodies and using our movements to regulate the amount of magic released, while the spell incantation focuses the cast. Wands, thereby reduce the effort taken to cast magic.” Amit tapped a finger on his jaw thoughtfully.

"Exactly. Since witches and wizards here don't practice exercising that part of their magical core while it's growing in childhood, they lose the ability to regulate their magic and can't cast wandless magic as adults." Natty explained. "Unless they become skilled enough in later life, where they might be able to learn the ability with more effort."

“But if our friend can’t regulate magic on their own, wouldn’t that put them in the same boat as we who grew up with wands?” Amit frowned, folding his arms. "Yet they seem to have limited success with wandless magic."

“Well, maybe their core is still flexible enough to learn it because they only discovered and began to learn magic three years ago, at fifteen rather than eleven.” Natty gave a helpless smile. "Perhaps their unique situation is throwing off all the norms."

“I love being weird enough that nobody has an easy solution for me.” The Keeper muttered dryly, leaning against a nearby desk with their arms folded, and Sebastian left his spot beside Ominis to sit on said desk, in a silent show of support.

“How'd you even realise you could still do wandless anyway?” Garreth wondered aloud. “Last time I even remember casting accidental magic was-”

He paused for a few long moments, before scratching the back of his head. “On second thought, I think I'll keep that to myself.”

“For shame.” Sebastian sighed in disappointment, leaning his shoulder against the Keeper's. “But I think most of us haven't cast accidental magic since we got our wands and it's always uncontrollable too, unlike yours.”

Sebastian’s eyes were clear and confident. “We may not be able to explain it, but you’re able to do it and that means there’s a way to control it. We just need to figure it out.”

The Keeper gave him a grateful smile, somehow, they felt a little better, knowing that he wasn’t discouraged by their slow progress. Turning back to face Garreth, the Keeper decided to answer his question while keeping it as vague as possible. “My first cast was over the summer, I didn't have my wand at hand, and both Sebastian and Ominis were in danger, so I cast a Protego charm to cover them.”

“It was a perfect cast too.” Ominis smiled with pride from his spot on the floor beside Poppy.

“Oh, that's so sweet.” Poppy giggled and the Keeper felt their eyes automatically avert, their cheeks warming slightly.

“Wow, don't think I've ever seen you blush.” Sebastian whispered into their ear with an audible grin, and the Keeper pressed a hand to his face to push him away. Now they knew why Ominis was always doing that.

“Protecting, huh.” Garreth mused thoughtfully, before fishing something silver and reflective from his pocket, casually calling out. “Hey, Ominis, catch this knife.”

With that, Garreth tossed the silver object at Ominis, like one would a dart, to alarmed exclamations around the room.

Immediately, the Keeper raised a hand and shouted. “Protego!”

A shield formed around Ominis, and the silver object hit the magical barrier, glancing off it and clattering to the floor.

“Well, that confirms it. You just need the right motivation.” Garreth commented blithely, before flinching when his eyes met the Keeper’s murderous glare.

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted off the chair by his lapels and a furious Sebastian in his face. “What the fuck do you think you're doing, Weasley!?”

“Gah!” Garreth grabbed Sebastian's wrists for balance as he got his feet under him, and cried. “Spoon! A spoon! It was a bloody spoon!”

Sebastian paused and the others began to search the floor for the silver object.

A moment later, Poppy was raising a silver spoon in the air. “Found it! Looks like it is actually a spoon.”

“Course it is!” Garreth exclaimed, glaring at Sebastian. “Now, unhand me, you barbarian.”

Dutifully, Sebastian released Garreth, and the redhead smoothed his robes out in an indignant huff. “Merlin's beard, I can't believe you lot thought I'd throw a knife at Ominis.”

“Well, we wouldn't put it past you.” Amit commented dryly.

“Bah, here I am getting us actual progress, and this is the thanks I get.” Garreth scoffed.

“Well, you didn't need to do such a thing! You could have just declared your theory.” Natty exclaimed, looking almost as angry as Sebastian had been, and the Keeper belatedly realised that she was standing halfway to Poppy's side.

Had she been worried about Poppy? The Hufflepuff was sitting right beside Ominis, so they supposed it was a reasonable concern.

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had the element of surprise to test it.” Garreth shrugged and the Keeper shot him another glare.

Before they could say anything however, Ominis plucked the spoon from Poppy's hand and lobbed it at Garreth.

“Hey!” The redhead protested when the spoon clocked him square in his fluffy mane of hair, looking rather bewildered by the accuracy of Ominis’ aim.

“There. We're even.” Ominis stated simply and the Keeper couldn't help but smile fondly as the tension in the room tangibly lowered. Well, if Ominis wanted them to drop the issue...

Turning to the Keeper, Poppy suggested. “Perhaps you focus better when you've got a clear goal and something you care about a lot.”

Natty nodded in agreement. “It could be that you’re able to connect with your magic more smoothly and naturally, when all of you is in agreement on what you are trying to do. In other words, without hesitation.”

“Possibly. The shield charm makes sense then.” The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, that reminded them of the conclusion they'd come to with Rackham, regarding how they best wielded Ancient Magic. Objectives and passion. Intent and intensity. Perhaps in this area, their tendency to consider repercussions and plan with caution was the thing hindering them.

“Toss me the ball, Natty?” The Keeper asked while Sebastian went to sit beside Ominis.

With a curious glance, she nodded and stretched her hand towards the ball still chilling on the floor in the corner. “Accio.”

The ball shot into her hand and she tossed it to the Keeper lightly.

As it sailed through the air, the Keeper imagined that it was a boulder being hurled at them by one of Ranrok's trolls.

I refuse to die here!

They raised their hand towards it. “Protego!”

The familiar shield shimmered into being around their palm and the light ball easily bounced off it, rolling once more off into a corner.

The Keeper lowered their hand as the shield flickered and vanished, huh. Weaker, but it’d still worked.

“Well, at least that's something I can work with.” They nodded firmly.

“You're welcome. Don't sweat it, all in a day's work for the Garreth Weasley.” Garreth brushed a hand through his ginger locks with a smug grin.

Natty gave him a glare that easily matched Sebastian's intensity, folding her arms grudgingly. “I will admit, I suppose, that that's more progress than I've made with them for a month.”

“Well, I appreciate the effort anyway.” The Keeper smiled wryly. “I've given up after less.”

“Liar.” Sebastian snorted, getting an elbow between the ribs from Ominis, and a round of laughter that rippled through the group.

“And I appreciate the well-meant lie.” Natty chuckled, patting the Keeper on the shoulder, as she called the ball back into her hand and chucked it at Garreth.

“Hey! What am I, the new Townsquare dartboard?” Garreth complained as he ducked.

“You started it, so you don’t get to complain.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Shaking their head, the Keeper strode over to Ominis’ side to collect their wand and playfully give Sebastian's braid a flick. “Alright, have fun playing darts guys. I've got to get going. I'm already running late.”

“See you tomorrow.” Ominis gave them a resigned smile.

“See you!” Poppy waved as Natty went to sit by her side and the Keeper left the room quickly.

“Ah, there you are, Salamander.” Alasdair's voice drew the Keeper's attention as they scanned the pub for Owl, who was noticeably absent, despite it almost being ten.

Raising their eyebrow in question, the Keeper approached the bar counter. This was the first time the guildmaster had specifically called them over, rather than them going to him.

“There's someone who wants to speak with you.” Alasdair explained, gesturing towards a man sitting at a table near the door. “His name is Vesper. He was the last Hunter to attempt Borgok's bounty and the only survivor aside from Faun.”

The Keeper blinked in surprise. They'd been hoping to speak with the second survivor, but what reason would he have to speak with them? Well, Owl still wasn't here, so they supposed they could speak with this Hunter first.

“Alright- and send a glass of that chocolate drink over for me when you can, thanks.” The Keeper nodded.

“Sure.” Alasdair smiled and began mixing as they made their way over to Vesper’s table.

The man was rather unassuming in appearance, middle-aged, but where Owl looked like he was in his late thirties, this hunter looked closer to fifty. He bore a scraggy beard and a faint scar that stretched from brow to jaw. Blue eyes followed them warily from under the rim of a derby hat as they approached, his brown hair hanging low in a loose ponytail.

“Alasdair says you wanted to speak with me.” The Keeper said by way of greeting.

“You're-” The man's eyes widened with surprise, and he scanned the Keeper from head to toe, before grimacing and folding his arms, muttering to himself quietly. “I suppose I don't have anything to lose.”

The Keeper cocked an eyebrow as he gestured to the seat across from him in invitation. “Take a seat, I don't have much time tonight.”

“I'll cut to the chase.” Vesper stated simply when they were seated. “I'd like to offer you vital information on Gnarlak, in exchange for a favour.”

Well, that was convenient, the Keeper folded their arms. “What do you want for it?”

“Gnarlak took my wand, and my hand with it.” The man grimaced, left hand releasing his mug to roll up his right sleeve, flashing them a silver prosthetic that extended under his glove. “I want my wand back if you manage to kill him.”

“If the wand is still intact and in his possession, I will.” The Keeper nodded, ignoring the scepticism in his last few words. They needn't do anything about it, their success alone would correct everyone who underestimated them for their age. “So, tell me what vital information you have.”

“Gnarlak is sharp, I tried to kill him when he was outside his base and didn't realise he’d caught on that he was being shadowed. Bastard led me right into a trap.” Vesper paused momentarily when Svet stopped by to drop off the Keeper’s drink. “I don't know how or when the goblin realised he was being followed, but he was certainly prepared for that scenario.”

The Keeper frowned, eyes lingering on Svet as she left the table none the wiser. Owl was late, and in light of this information, perhaps that was more cause for concern than it had been a minute ago.

“Where was the trap you fell into and what type of trap was it?” The Keeper shifted their drink to the side and placed their map on the table.

“It was just under this ridge.” The man pointed at a spot on the map and the Keeper noted it down. “I followed him into an underground tunnel, only to have the way I came barred by goblin metal.”

Vesper grimaced. “There was something in the tunnel, a large beast of some sort, from the sound of it. Gnarlak, the sick bastard taunted me from outside, telling me that the switch to open the exit was within a hole in the wall, before leaving me to die. The switch was too deep inside the opening to reach, and my magic wouldn't work on it, so I was forced to stick my hand and wand into the crevice to press it.”

“And it closed on your wrist.” The Keeper filled in dryly.

“That it did.” The man rubbed at his right wrist, as though the limb replaced by the prosthetic still hurt. “Like a bear trap, jaws tight and firm clamped around my wrist. The gate opened and freedom lay beside me. I heard the creature roar, and I knew death awaited me if I hesitated, so I cut my hand off and fled.”

“I don't expect that he simply let you go.” The Keeper murmured dryly.

“He certainly tried to stop me, but unlike his Loyalists, he doesn't seem to be much of a combat soldier himself.” Vesper shook his head. “Even bleeding and bereft of my wand, I managed to evade his axe swings and arrows.”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, perhaps that was why Gnarlak allowed a double to be killed just so he could have a clean strike at Faun, and even then, he failed to kill her. Still, why would the goblin dangle before the man, a means to escape? Did he think the Hunter wouldn't cut his own limb off? Was it sick pleasure? Or had he always wanted the wand undamaged with no care for the Hunter himself?

“How'd you get away?” The Keeper asked and he raised an incredulous eyebrow in response. They shrugged, well it was worth a shot.

“I got a second wand easily enough, but there's nothing like the wand that first chose you.” The man shook his head with a sigh. “I've decided to retire from Mercenary work and if I can get my wand back, that'll be enough.”

“I see.” The Keeper nodded, well, after an injury like that, it wasn't a bad point to quit. “I'll try to find it.”

“Alright, that's all I've got for you.” Vesper took his mug and finished the last of his drink. “If there's nothing else, I have places to be.”

“Thanks for the information.” The Keeper nodded absently as the man stood.

“Good luck.” Vesper tipped his hat in farewell and left the pub, the heavy-footed man’s cloak billowing behind him as he did.

Glancing at the clock, the Keeper frowned, tapping their fingernails against the side of their fountain glass. It was already halfway to eleven and Owl still hadn't shown up. Perhaps they'd wait for a bit longer and speak with Alasdair if Owl didn’t appear.

If he'd gotten caught in that trap...

Did they care enough to try and rescue the man if he were in danger? They didn't know what creature lay within the tunnel, would Owl even survive long enough to be rescued?

The Keeper barely knew him, the affable man had made it clear that he had kids at least, and Svet seemed to have feelings for him, but beyond that, they were barely acquaintances. He was just a hire. How much guilt should they feel if someone died on their account? That was probably something they should figure out before the need to respond arose.

Minutes passed while the Keeper sipped from their glass, letting the ice melt on their tongue as they pondered this, and the clock turned eleven a few moments before a familiar lanky man tumbled through the pub doors.

Well, that solved that.

“Hey, kid!” Owl beamed as he spotted the Keeper seated just a few steps away, and lumbered over to drop into the seat Vesper had vacated. “Sorry for being late!”

“Nice to see you aren't dead.” The Keeper stated evenly, and quite honestly. Made things less complicated. “Thought Gnarlak might have noticed you.”

“Oh, he did. Several times actually.” Owl chuckled. “Sharp one, that goblin, slippery too. Got held up dragging my arse out of a quagmire a few hours ago, had to drop by my house for a change of clothes.”

“A quagmire.” The Keeper frowned, that wasn't what Vesper had described. Had Gnarlak found it too difficult to lure Owl into a trap to capture him, and went for something that would kill him instead? “That means he has multiple trap locations.”

“Oh?” The man tilted his head curiously and the Keeper spent the next few minutes relaying to him what they'd learnt from the Hunter.

“Hm.” Owl folded his arms. “That complicates things. It took me a week just to succeed in tailing him all the way to a trap, if he has several and knows the area well...”

He closed his eyes thoughtfully. “In that case, rather than finding you a predictable route, during which you can... get him, it might be safer for you to lie in wait for him at his destination.”

The Keeper nodded. “If I clear it out in advance, I can corner him.”

Opening his eyes, Owl gave them a tired smile. “I'll have to use intermittent surveillance then.”

They tilted their head to the side in confusion and he elaborated with a sigh. “Basically, I’ll follow Gnarlak as far as I can, then wait at the last spot I saw him. When he comes that way the next time, I'll keep trailing him, gradually pushing further each time, until I finally discover his destination.”

“Sounds like that will take a while.” The Keeper frowned.

“Yeap.” Owl paused, his eyes lowering almost nervously for a moment, before regarding the Keeper with an uncomfortably earnest and burning intensity. “I hope you don't take this the wrong way, it's kind of what I do, so I couldn't quite help myself. I mean, it was not entirely intentional, some of it was easily accessible public knowledge and I will admit that I wanted to, but I will understand if you take issue with what I've done. I still would like you to know that I don't mean to-”

“What did you do?” The Keeper interjected, since the man seemed to be going off the rails.

He took a deep breath, before speaking in a rush. “I looked you up.”

The Keeper stared at him blankly. “And?”

“I learnt that you only joined Hogwarts in fifth-year. That you defeated Ranrok, Rookwood and Harlow during that year. And that you are an orphan who's currently living with two boys in...” Owl covered the sides of his face and mouthed the name ‘Feldcroft’, before biting his lip. “Look, I'm sorry for invading your privacy, and I know that as a teenager on the cusp of adulthood, that privacy is very important, but-”

“It's fine.” The Keeper raised a hand to halt the tirade of senseless babble falling from his gob. “I expected no less from an information broker.”

“Nooooo!” Owl wailed mournfully, grabbing his head between his hands and the Keeper nearly leapt from their seat in alarm. “I've disappointed you! I'm so sorry!”

“You what?” The Keeper stared at the messy brown fluff on his head warily and in complete confusion. This man made absolutely no sense.

“Please! I swear, I just wanted to understand you better! Give me another chance!” Owl lifted his head and for the first time, the Keeper realised that his watery eyes were a light green with yellow speckles.

How'd it take them this long to notice his eye colour? Maybe he truly was a genius spy, somehow managing to make his features less noticeable and forgettable. Heck, they hadn't noticed that he had freckles either! Not nearly as many as Sebastian's, just a light dusting over his nose.

“...come again?” The Keeper asked flatly after a moment, realising that they hadn't responded for some time and had barely understood what he said.

“I just wanted to understand you, why you are going after Gnarlak.” Owl sighed. “I know you've already defeated one goblin rebellion leader, but why are you going after another? Is it... do you hate goblins because of Ranrok?”

The man seemed quite worried about the last sentence being true, and the Keeper shook their head. “No, I do not hate goblins. That's not why I'm going after Gnarlak.”

“Then why?” Owl asked and the Keeper sighed.

How much were they willing to tell him? Honestly, they had a feeling that it would be good to remain in this man's favour. He'd managed to dance out of a trap made by a target who'd killed several experienced hunters and severely injured a veteran. Even if Owl wasn't a fighter, he was clearly formidable and the fact that he'd even discovered where the Keeper was living was rather unsettling.

It'd probably be best to tread carefully with the man and be honest where they could, if they wanted this working relationship to last. They would try to give him reasons that, someone as sentimental as he seemed to be, would accept.

“I was friends with Lodgok, the younger brother of Ranrok.” The Keeper sighed, picking at this wound again, the blood has barely dried. “He died for me at Ranrok's hand, like my mentor. Both of them desired peace between wizardkind and goblinkind.”

“Your mentor?” Owl asked. “A wizard or witch, I’m assuming.”

“Yes, the Professor who freed me from the workhouses.” The Keeper nodded. “Borgok asked me to help him protect the peace that Lodgok and Fig died for.”

“I see.” Owl gave them a pained smile. “But, surely you don't have to be the hand that does the job? You're too young to risk such danger. You have so much ahead of you.”

The Keeper snorted lightly. “I'm reasonably confident in my combat capabilities. And seventeen isn't too young to die, where I’m from.”

“Well, it should be too young!” Owl shook his head, voice strained with passion, and they didn't doubt that he meant it.

“Maybe.” The Keeper conceded, slightly frustrated that that hadn’t been enough to convince him, and they set their elbows on the table. “But it has to be me. Borgok offered me something I want that I can get from nowhere else.”

“What did he offer?” Owl's eyes narrowed and the Keeper could feel a surprisingly icy anger in his voice.

“I'm afraid that's more than I'm willing to share.” The Keeper shook their head, and a pinched frustration tightened his lips for a split second, so fleeting that they wondered if it had been a mere trick of the light.

“I understand.” Owl's eyes were sad as he nodded in acceptance. “Thank you, for telling me this much.”

It was only as the Keeper watched the lanky man stroll out of the pub with his hands in his pockets, minutes later, that it struck them.

They'd just given Owl far more information on themselves than he needed.

“Together they set off back to the wizard's house, the pot's footstep muffled at last. But from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper, and begin to hop once more.” The soft, steady sound of snores followed the end of his tale and Ominis lifted his finger from the paper, closing the small book in his lap.

“Wouldn't it have been more apt for the wizard's father to have cursed his son instead, to experience the suffering of others whom he didn't aid, rather than simply have the pot nag him?” The Keeper frowned, their voice low and hushed amidst the gentle sound of logs cracking in the wood stove just a few steps from where the throuple were seated on the kitchen floor.

“Does it matter?” Ominis raised an eyebrow, his voice equally quiet. “It got the wizard to be kinder and do his utmost to aid his neighbours.”

“But that's not empathy, that's simply fear. Should something happen to the pot, the wizard wouldn't continue to do his father's bidding.” The Keeper countered. “And it doesn't sound like the wizard, or his father were receiving payment for their services. In fact, I think it's quite reasonable for the son to have not wanted to continue his father's charity work without some sort of return. It's not sustainable.”

“Darling, it's a child's tale.” Ominis’ expression was equal parts exasperated and fond.

“Surely that doesn't give the writer leave to create a scenario that is needlessly inconsistent.” The Keeper insisted with a frustrated expression. “If you were going to invent a type of magic that can reflect the ailments of people on a pot, why would you stop ther-”

A burst of sparks interrupted the Keeper, followed by a long string of curses and expletives from Sebastian as he frantically beat the fire off his sleeve, struggling to do so without displacing the small dragon curled up in his lap.

“Sebastian.” Ominis’ tone was chiding.

The brunet shot him an annoyed glare, hissing back a quiet. “Hey, you're not the one being repeatedly set on fire just because this little-”

“Sebastian.” Ominis' tone was threatening now.

“...this little angel.” Sebastian bit out grudgingly. “Doesn't want to sleep in its bed.”

“Don't be such a baby, it can't be worse than what we gave ourselves while practising Confringo.” Ominis rolled his eyes.

“You haven't even checked!” Sebastian protested indignantly, it wasn't like Ominis could discern his condition with a glance.

Taking out his wand, Ominis bopped Sebastian on the head with it, incanting flatly. “Diagnosa.”

“Hey!” Sebastian recoiled from the wooden stick assaulting him, which unfortunately, jostled the dragon and Shai promptly sank its claws through the cloth and into his legs to stabilise itself. “Gah!”

Another series of vulgarities spewed from Sebastian's mouth and the Keeper couldn't quite stop themselves from laughing, even as they reached forward to help him remove the dragon's claws from his thigh.

“Oh, you poor thing.” The Keeper consoled through their snickers, while Ominis quickly passed him a vial of wiggenweld.

“Me or the dragon!?” Sebastian exclaimed with a sulky expression, before knocking back the green potion.

“You, of course.” The Keeper flashed him a fond smile, carefully removing Shai's claws from his skin, while Ominis patted and soothed the little dragon with soft cooing.

Fortunately, despite the disruption, Shai seemed to have gotten sleepy enough, because its jaws spread wide in a squeaky little yawn, and it readily curled back up again to sleep. Seeing this, Sebastian passed the Keeper the empty potion vial, before scooping up the dragon, towel and all, and gently laid it on the heated slate that was Shai's bed.

“Finally.” Sebastian sighed as he stood, stretching to loosen the tightness that had gathered in his back after sitting stiffly on the floor. “Ugh, maybe we should put some cushions in here.”

“I'm sure Shai appreciates your sacrifice.” Ominis patted Sebastian on the shoulder with a wry smile.

“It better.” Sebastian grumbled, before shaking his head. “Well, at least now that the little monster is asleep, we can get to that.”

He flashed the Keeper an eager grin, which they returned, while Ominis tilted his head to the side in confusion and curiously asked. “That?”

“Just a little something Sebastian and I have been working on for you.” The Keeper chuckled, reaching out to take Ominis’ hand and began leading him out of the kitchen. “Come on.”

“For me?” Ominis echoed with a bemused expression as he and Sebastian followed them through the dining room and up the spiral staircase to the first floor, the evening light streaming in through the windows.

Eventually they came to a stop in front of the room that was to be Ominis’ study, and he was surprised to see, with his wand, that in the entryway now lay what was clearly a door.

“Tadaaaa.” Sebastian beamed and waved a hand at the elegant mahogany door. “We made you a door!”

Ominis blinked twice, looking like he was struggling to find a way to express how unexpectedly underwhelming that revelation was, without hurting their feelings, and the Keeper chuckled.

“I crafted it with Ancient Magic, while Sebastian sculpted the panelling and moulding.” The Keeper explained with a smile. “Try opening it.”

With renewed curiosity, Ominis examined the door more closely and found, to his confusion, that it bore no handle. Reaching forward to touch the door, he felt under his fingers, a firm and smooth polished texture, and intricate patterns that raised the door's surface.

“You made these, Sebastian?” Ominis asked, sounding quite impressed, and Sebastian visibly puffed up with pride.

“I did indeed, piece of cake really.” Sebastian attempted to play it off.

“Don't listen to him, he spent hours working on it, and a good thing too, because I apparently wouldn't be able to craft something pretty to save my life.” The Keeper readily admitted, and Sebastian narrowed his eyes at them with a smirk that said oh yeah?

“This one, spends weeks staring at all the gorgeous doors of Hogwarts, and comes out with no more than a plain, flat slab of wood to show for it.” Sebastian snickered, leaning an arm on the Keeper's shoulder. “I simply couldn't abandon them.”

The Keeper huffed and pressed the brunet's hair down over his eyes in return, to laughing protests.

Ominis gave a soft chuckle and a shake of the head, continuing to examine the door for a minute more, before giving up and raising his hands. “Alright, tell me how it works.”

“It's yours, so I designed it such that it would only give way to you, to your word. In the tongue only you can speak.” The Keeper smiled and Ominis’ eyes widened as their meaning dawned on him.

“But that means...” Ominis murmured.

“This is your home. And Home should always be somewhere that you feel safe.” The Keeper took Ominis’ hands in theirs. “Like the father in the Hopping Pot's tale, we give this to you, a place where you can be safe from any and everyone.”

“Including us.” Sebastian added.

The Keeper nodded, smiling softly as they caressed Ominis’ cheek and continued. “In the fond hope, my love, that you will never need it.”

Moisture began to gather in Ominis’ eyes and the Keeper could only wonder as to what was happening behind those pale orbs, more beautiful and treasured than the pearls decorating the Queen's crown.

It was undeniably scary, the idea of what Ominis might hide behind the door that they'd created for him, from them, but that fear paled in comparison to the desire to give him this. Safety and privacy. Something the Keeper understood the significance of. Something they too had been denied.

Though the knowledge that some day they may come to regret this, if and when Ominis closed himself inside and their own kindness barred their way through to him, would no doubt haunt their every night. The Keeper could not find it in themselves to regret this decision.

Perhaps it was counterintuitive, but every part of them felt like this was the right thing to do. They loved him after all, and they wanted his happiness more than anything. There were so many things they couldn't do for him. They couldn't take away the stigma his family name had given him in the public eye, they couldn't make his family love him the way they did, and they couldn't take away his fear.

So, they would give him what they could and hope that it would be enough.

“I- are you sure?” Ominis asked, his voice hoarse and choked, barely audible as it cracked with emotion.

Instead of the Keeper, it was Sebastian who answered, his expression thoughtful. “I don't think either of us would pretend to understand all your fears and worries, but if we can give you some peace of mind, that would be enough.”

The tears welling up in Ominis’ eyes spilled down his cheeks as a shaky smile formed on his face and the Keeper found that smile reflected on theirs, at the knowledge that Sebastian's feelings were so aligned with their own.

“Tha- thank you.” Ominis finally choked out after a few failed attempts, swallowing thickly to clear his throat and brushing the cuff of his sleeve over his eyes.

“Hey, I thought a gentleman was always prepared.” Sebastian grinned playfully and Ominis swatted at him with a watery laugh.

“Well, I left my handkerchief in my coat's sleeve downstairs.” The blond sniffed.

“So, that's where you were keeping it.” Sebastian snickered.

Ominis shook his head helplessly, and turned to face the door once again, placing a hand on its smooth surface, he hissed softly. “Open.”

A second later, a slight vibration ran through the wood at his fingertips and the resistance under his palm gave way, allowing him to push the door open smoothly and soundlessly.

“If you tell it to, it will also cloak itself in an illusion that makes it look like part of the wall.” The Keeper added. “It's a light-based illusion, so it'll only be visible to your wand sight.”

Ominis gave them a fond smile. “Exactly how secretive do you think I'll need my study to be?”

“Well, better to have too many options than too few, right?” The Keeper shrugged.

“The Chamber of Secrets holds a monster supposedly.” A small smile, equal parts amused and bitter lay on Ominis’ lips. “If someone manages to open this, centuries in the future, I'm sure they'll be rather disappointed by how boring it'll be inside.”

The Keeper smiled softly, how like Ominis, to declare that he would hide nothing of note from them, in such a roundabout manner.

“I'm sure we can get you a monster to hide in here, if you want.” Sebastian quipped, wrapping his arms loosely around Ominis’ waist from behind and resting his head against the blond's.

“Yeah, like this one.” The Keeper jabbed a thumb in Sebastian's direction.

“Why not, I'm sure I can be your monster in bed.” Sebastian purred into Ominis’ ear while giving the Keeper a wink.

“Sebastian!”

“Hang on. You're not bringing me to the fight against Gnarlak?”

“Correct.”

“Why!? What happened to partners?”

“Sebastian, think about it. If I go alone, I may die. If we both go, we may both die. You would risk leaving Ominis all alone?”

“I- ...is that something he's said?”

“You know that if we ask him to choose, he will carry the guilt for that decision for the rest of his life. I won't ask him to do more than let me go.”

“And what about me? What about the regret I would feel if you die?”

“...Sebastian... I'm not going to risk your life. If I die it'll be up to you to save Anne.”

“...”

“I'd rather you live. With regret and with Ominis.”

“You can't keep doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“Just- I dunno, be selfish for once.”

“Trust me, I am being selfish.”

“You- How is that- Stop putting us first, damn it!”

“Sebastian? What are you shouting about up here?”

“Ominis, I-”

“Sebastian doesn't want to feed Shai again. He's getting tired of being chewed on.”

“Sebastian, I know the little one is teething, but Shai is always so happy when you're doing the feeding.”

“Stop sulking, love. Come on.”

“Fine, fine... I'll do it.”

“Your target has started moving. I'd say you have till six to prepare for his arrival.”

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded, closing the small pocket mirror that Owl had given them two weeks ago, when he'd successfully pinned down the location that Gnarlak was always going to.

Apparently, the simple cosmetic glass had a two-way charm on it, that bound it with Owl's own and allowed its bearers to communicate across it. A useful trinket that the tracker had picked up along his travels and one that he used to coordinate manoeuvres like theirs.

A quick tempus informed them that it was a few minutes away from one in the early afternoon. That gave them about an hour to get to the goblin's secret base, and then four hours to scope out the location, remove anything that might prevent them from assassinating Gnarlak, and lie in wait for the goblin's arrival.

Fortunately, there was a floo point relatively close to the location, so they should be able to fly there on their broom without too much delay, thanks to Weekes’ upgrades.

“Tibsy.” The Keeper absently called for the elf as they pocketed the two-way mirror. “Tell Ominis and Sebastian that I'm leaving for work in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Master.” Tibsy nodded and popped away, while the Keeper made their way down to Dìon’s first Basement floor, to change into the enhanced gear that they'd prepared for their assassination attempt.

They'd asked Owl to contact them if Gnarlak made to go to his secret base on a Saturday or Sunday, since the goblin would do so on relatively randomised days, and it seemed that the last Saturday of November, was also going to be the last day of Gnarlak’s life.

After donning more appropriate combat gear, they switched out their satchel for a less cluttered one, which they dumped several wiggenweld potions, their broom, and two jars of C-Pain energy into. Which should be enough for seven hours worth of maximum boosted physical and magical capability, if they took it incrementally.

They hesitated for a moment, before also grabbing a Fear pill to add to it. Better to bring it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.

Finished with their preparations, they returned to the castle's ground floor and found Ominis pacing in the main entryway anxiously.

“Ominis.” The Keeper smiled wryly. “I'll be fine.”

“You can't know that.” Ominis shot back without hesitation and the Keeper sighed. “How can you even be sure that he's going there?”

“Because Owl says that Gnarlak has a few things he always does before going to his secret base.” The Keeper explained patiently, apparently the goblin would procure an absurd amount of meat, probably for the beast that almost killed Vesper.

“What if he shows up early?” Ominis didn't even slow in his pacing.

“Owl will delay him if necessary.”

“How can you be sure that he will?”

“I’ve only given him half his pay, for pinning down Gnarlak’s base. He'll only get the rest after I kill the goblin.”

“How do you know he hasn't given you false information or laid a trap?” Ominis finally stopped pacing.

“I can't.” The Keeper answered honestly. “I cannot be sure of anything. Nobody can. But I am as sure as I can be.”

Ominis sighed. “Can't you just-”

“Nope.” The Keeper smiled wryly again, taking a few steps forward to pull his reluctant posh arse into a hug, guiding his blond head to rest on their shoulder and rubbing his back soothingly. “I'll be fine.”

They felt Ominis take a shuddering breath, his grip tight around their waist, near trembling as he held them close, and despite feeling guilty for making him so afraid, the Keeper was struck by how wonderful it felt, to be so loved so desperately. How fortunate they were, to have his love, selfish and needy as it was, yet tempered by his goodness and respect for their agency.

“Of course they’ll be fine, because they'll have this with them.” Sebastian's voice and footsteps came from behind them and as the Keeper turned to look, he yelped. “Damn it, Shai!”

The Keeper blinked as Sebastian, apparently, just barely managed to avoid tripping on the small dragon that was scuttling about his feet energetically.

“I swear, this stu- this dragon! Why do you keep following me everywhere!?” Sebastian exclaimed, stopping to glare at the small dragon. Unfortunately, it seemed that little Shai had taken that as an invitation and began to climb his leg.

With its claws.

Which was clearly quite painful, judging from the brunet's yowl, though, to his credit, he was exhibiting admirable restraint, holding still rather than kicking the little monster off. Instead, cradling the item he was holding in one arm, while helping himself by carrying some of Shai's weight with his other, until the dragon was happily perched on his shoulder.

“I swear it gets fatter every week. Bloody dragon's going to deplete our wiggenweld stock by the end of the year, mark my words.” Sebastian grumbled as he made his way over to them and, momentarily ignoring his many small puncture wounds, presented the item he'd been holding to the Keeper, and Ominis released them so that they could look.

In Sebastian's hands, was what looked like a dagger, about the length of his forearm, the centre of its iron blade was partially made of glass, allowing them to see a thick red liquid held within. Its hilt was about a third of its length and seemed to be made of their leftover mahogany wood, with ridges for a more stable grip, and a sheathe made of leather hung from Sebastian’s free shoulder.

“Is this the little project you've been working on?” The Keeper marvelled at the weapon, it was simple in appearance, but the unique design was complex enough to render such a point moot, if they even cared about appearances to begin with.

“Yup, you said Gnarlak might have a large creature under his control, so I thought I'd make you something that'll help with that. Managed to finish it a week ago, fortunately. All that research on woodcraft and metalwork for our castle doors, and the new sliding metal bar doors for guest cells, helped a lot.” Sebastian beamed proudly.

“Your steep learning curve, and creativity never ceases to amaze.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.

“Now if only you could apply that capacity for learning and problem solving, to things that aren’t dangerous or deadly.” Ominis sighed, and the brunet rolled his eyes.

“Anyway.” Sebastian pointed at the glass. “I designed this part so that when you stab something with it, its internal body pressure should cause the glass to shatter, releasing the poison inside it.”

“A purposefully fragile single-use weapon.” The Keeper nodded in understanding. “I'll keep that in mind.”

“What type of poison is it?” Ominis asked with a frown. “Body mass affects the effectiveness of poisons.”

“Remember the bloodroot we found in the old Dìon ruins?” Sebastian asked and they nodded. “Well, I made our first harvest into Bloodroot poison. It's the fastest and most potent NEWT-level potion, a teaspoon's worth can kill a human within fifteen minutes. Unless that beast is larger than a dragon, this should be enough to put it down.”

“That must have been difficult to brew.” The Keeper murmured, accepting the blade with reverence and feeling its weight. Balance was quite awful, but they weren't a blademaster, nor was Sebastian a blacksmith, if it performed the intended function, that would be sufficient.

“Yeah, well, if the poison works, we can add it to our catalogue in Vesters and Venom.” Sebastian gave a shrug with his dragonless shoulder, as he helped strap the holster for the dagger sheath to the Keeper's side.

“If we sell such a dangerous potion, I must insist that the customers register their information with us so that we can help any Auror investigations that might follow.” Ominis sighed.

“We can discuss that later, I have to leave now if I want to get there before two.” The Keeper shook their head as they sheathed the dagger, getting a feel for its weight on their body.

“I still think you shouldn't go at all.” Ominis grumbled. “But if I can't convince you to stay, then at least come back safe.”

“And I still think you should let me go with you, but good luck anyway.” Sebastian gave them a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I'll be back in a few hours.” The Keeper nodded firmly. “Help me owl Natty and the others that we're skipping tonight's lesson?”

“Sure.” Sebastian nodded, swatting at Shai when the dragon started gnawing on his earlobe, before pulling Ominis into a comforting hug.

With that, the Keeper hurried out of the castle, and mounted their broom, oh how they'd missed this feeling. The same adrenaline, exhilaration and freedom that they'd felt, when going to clear one of the Elder Keepers’ Trial dungeons.

The hunt was on.

Chapter Text

With a clang, the arrow shooting towards the Keeper, hit their shield charm and clattered to the floor.

Retreating a step back behind the wall, they peaked cautiously around the corner and scrutinised the direction it'd come from. It took a minute, but they quickly spotted the crossbow and threw a standard cast at it, shattering it, before using reparo to fix it after they'd gotten past, and then paused to collect the arrow to hide evidence of the triggered trap.

They sighed, the last hour had been remarkably tedious. While, fortunately, thanks to Borgok's refusal, Gnarlak didn't have a lock on his secret base at the calibre of Gringotts' bank vaults, the three locks on the front door had been magic resistant and it was only thanks to the Keeper's skill in lockpicking that they were able to enter.

Though their fingers nearly froze trying to lockpick without gloves in the early fucking winter.

Said entrance, carved into the side of a mountain, led into a literal maze and the Keeper had already spent almost an hour navigating it. Fortunately, the enclosed nature of this underground maze actually made it easier to find the correct path, unlike the Eunon Blackwood hedge mazes.

Whenever they reached a fork in the maze, they'd pick up a rock, reduce it to dust, and scatter the dust upwards, to see which path the air flowed through more freely. It was a slow method, but all they needed to do was make one mistake, step into one trap that their shield wouldn't stop, and they'd be dead.

At least the unknown large creature Gnarlak owned couldn't possibly fit in such a small maze.

Oh yes, the ceiling was lower than Garreth's grades. The Keeper wouldn't be bending over for a week after this, not even for Sebastian or Ominis.

Well, maybe.

If Sebastian asked nicely.

...or if Ominis demanded it.

Wow, their brain really only had one place to go when they were bored.

To their relief, the maze soon came to an end and the cramped, claustrophobic corridors gave way to a dizzyingly large open cavern. It was a pity that there hadn't been any fun puzzles in the maze, unlike the Elder Keepers’ trials, but considering that Gnarlak was trying to kill intruders, not test them... Kind of understandable.

Poking their head out of the tunnels, the Keeper cast a lumos maxima, sending the bright orb up into the air to hover just under the ceiling, illuminating the area. The cavern was large enough that they couldn’t quite imagine how whatever Gnarlak had used to carve this place out, had been brought in to begin with. Then again, perhaps he'd constructed the drill in here instead, and left the machine somewhere further in.

There were several large pillars of natural stone left untouched, holding the ceiling up, and what looked like a pair of tunnels leading off to the left and right. Impressively enough, the ceiling of the cavern was even higher up than the spire of Dìon castle.

Deeming it safe to proceed, they cautiously inched out of the tunnel, shield at the ready as they straightened. When nothing happened, the Keeper relaxed, biting back a groan as they took a moment to stretch. Good lord, those tunnels were awful. How the hell did Faun manage to sneak around a base made to that height for over a month?

Taking a few steps forward, the Keeper grimaced when their footsteps echoed across the stone, well, their boots were made for combat, not stealth. Besides, they wanted to draw out anything that would stop them from getting the kill.

A deafening roar split the air, bouncing off the cavern walls and splitting the Keeper's ears as well. Bloody hell, clearly the monster wanted to deafen them first.

Covering their ears, the Keeper's eyes darted about, just barely catching a glimpse of something large shooting out from the tunnel to the left, before it landed on the floor before them with a violent crash that shook the earth.

Large wings spread overhead, casting a shadow over stone and the Keeper sighed. Of course, a dragon. What else would it be.

Actually... the Keeper's eyes narrowed as they spied a familiar collar around the dragon's neck, quickly recognising it as the same beast that attacked their carriage during fifth-year, on their way to Hogwarts for the first time. Had the dragon been here in captivity this whole time? If that was the case, maybe this cavern had been in use since Ranrok.

“Hello again, a tad overdue for our rematch, aren't we?” The Keeper bared their teeth as the dragon roared, jaws spreading wide open and from deep within its throat, rose a bright hot glow.

Without a second to waste, the Keeper dived to the side, augmenting their roll with ancient magic to dash further out of the range of the plume of fire that spewed towards them like the flames of hell. Well, too bad, the Keeper knew they would burn, but it wasn't the time yet.

Hiding behind a pillar, the Keeper popped the cap off a jar from their satchel, and took a sliver of C-Pain in their mouth, shoving the jar back in as their eyes burned red. Ugh, they'd be glad when they had an energy armlet that they could use to consume energy on the go, rather than juggle all these cumbersome jars.

There was no time to complain, however, and they dashed once again as the dragon appeared from around the pillar. The glow of their Ancient Magic was now red, and their dash took them far further than before, the power of Pain rushing through their body.

“Bombarda!” The Keeper shouted, twisting and flicking their wand to throw the spell at the dragon, only for it to shake its head lightly, brushing off the blast like it was nothing.

Right, magically resistant creatures that required half a dozen stunners cast simultaneously to momentarily stun. That was inconvenient, but let's see how it does against something stronger.

The Keeper collected a vast amount of Ancient Magic in their wand instead, and sent a red blast of pure magic at the dragon. This time, the great creature was knocked off to the side in the middle of its lunge towards them and it roared as it slammed into a nearby pillar.

Okay, still not very effective, they grumbled to themselves, dashing again as the dragon got up inside the cloud of dust and blew fire at them. It did seem to do some damage, but knocking the dragon off its feet wasn't worth that much magic. They had brought a lot of C-Pain energy, but the more they used, the harder it would be to return to their regular dosage later.

As they dodged, a large rock fell from the ceiling, dislodged when the dragon slammed into the pillar, and it landed right on the creature's back. The dragon roared in pain and the Keeper took the opportunity to examine the cavern again. There were eight large pillars. An idea bloomed in their mind, and they grinned. If they couldn't use magic, then they would use the environment.

Ducking behind a pillar, the Keeper took another sliver of C-Pain and then dashed again when the dragon chased them around the obstruction. The creature was clearly being careful not to damage the pillars, the Keeper noted as they rolled out of the way of its fire, just barely avoiding being turned to charcoal. Clever.

They weaved through the pillars for several minutes, gradually widening the gap between the dragon and themselves with their boosted physical strength, before looping around a pillar and coming to a stop.

Brandishing their wand at the pillar, now perfectly placed between the Keeper and the dragon, they shouted. “Bombarda Maxima!”

The red hued spell slammed into the pillar and the impact shattered it, sending large boulders flying towards the dragon on the other side. The explosive momentum of their spell essentially turning the boulders into canons and firing them into the dragon's face.

The dragon roared as it was barraged with heavy boulders, pelting its scales and slamming into its wings. Now enraged, the great beast lunged for the Keeper and a smirk formed on their face when the dragon leapt through the space that was previously occupied by the pillar.

“Reparo!” The Keeper waved their wand with a flourish.

The boulders shot off the floor and swirled around the dragon like a hurricane, smashing into its jaw and wings, before coming back together as tightly as it could, the pillar returning to its original form, but with one difference. The dragon was now trapped inside the rock, its head, tail and one of its wings jutting out of the pillar at odd angles.

With a victorious grin, the Keeper withdrew the jar containing the Fear-Pill from their satchel and extracted it with their wand. They weren't sure it would work on the dragon, but it would be easier if they could render the creature unconscious and remove its collar, rather than kill it. They cautiously approached the dragon's head, and when it opened its mouth to roar, they lobbed the pill into its mouth.

Unfortunately, the dragon seemed to realise what they were doing and even as the pill flew into its mouth, it conjured fire from within its belly and blasted the pill back out. The Keeper cursed, diving out of the fire’s path as the pill flew off somewhere in the distance and the dragon began to thrash wildly in its confining rock.

With a roar, the pillar shattered once more, freeing the dragon and forcing the Keeper to dodge the flying boulders. Blast. They rolled when the dragon swiped at them with its claws, taking off once more across the cavern. Round two then.

The Keeper widened the gap once more and blasted a pillar at the dragon like before, but this time it didn't leap over the spot where the pillar had once stood, going around it instead. Well, dragons were certainly clever. Hopefully Shai wouldn't give them this much trouble when it grew up.

So, the Keeper continued to blast pillars at the dragon, casting reparo to fix them shortly after, for the fewer pillars there were, the less there was to hide behind and the more room for the dragon to attack them freely. Not to mention, they really didn't want to bring the ceiling down.

While they were certainly not dealing any blows of deadly force, the Keeper was slowly but surely wearing the dragon down. Honestly, this fight would have been hilariously short if they didn't have C-Pain to keep their stamina and strength up, and for a moment, the dragon seemed to realise that it was losing this battle of attrition.

Breathing heavily, after a little over an hour of fighting, the dragon turned to flee down the tunnel to the west, before letting out a shriek of pain. The Keeper watched with a frown, as the collar around the dragon's neck flared bright red and it collapsed to the floor, seeming to go into a seizure.

The dragon dragged itself to its feet and tiredly lunged at the keeper again, and they resumed their dodging. It seemed like the dragon was most certainly being forced to kill any intruders and did not have the option to flee, on pain of... well, pain.

As they finished their first C-Pain jar, the Keeper wondered if there was a difference between the way they consumed Pain energy as a drug, and one that caused pain with the same energy. Perhaps the collar was a method Ranrok had discovered, one that allowed him to inject Pain forcefully, in a way that caused the collared person to experience it, rather than become empowered by it, while the armlet allowed for consumption in a way that did so.

Still, they were burning through their C-Pain energy concerningly fast and had only a little over an hour to finish this before Gnarlak arrived.

The Keeper cursed as the dragon slammed its weight into a pillar that they were about to blast at it, turning the tables and using their own method against them, in what might have been an act of desperation. Casting a Protego and leaping backwards, their shield caught a large chunk of pillar and shattered under its weight.

While the shield took the brunt of that boulder, shards of flying rocks flew at them like bullets, and several caught them in the legs, ripping through their clothing and skin, and slowing their retreat.

With a roar, the dragon swiped at them with its tail, which caught the Keeper in the side and threw them across the cavern, into the wall, where they slid down into a heap on the floor.

Coughing through the dust, the Keeper struggled to stand, can't afford to be dazed, but found their legs to be covered in blood and in enough pain that they practically felt numb.

Shaky fingers fumbled for their wiggenweld potions, downing three in rapid succession before tossing aside the vials, and they rolled across the floor to avoid the dragon's claws, that slammed down where they'd been a moment ago.

Pointing their wand at a large rock a distance away, the Keeper shouted. “Accio!”

With the rock being far heavier than themselves, the Keeper was instead dragged across the floor rather painfully towards it, putting some distance between the dragon and themselves.

Balling up their Ancient Magic once more in their wand, the Keeper threw the red tinged magic at the dragon while it lunged at them, knocking it to the side, and it fell backwards into the collapsed remains of the pillar it'd just destroyed.

“Reparo!” The Keeper shouted, hoping that this time, the dragon would be too tired to break free of the pillar.

The dragon roared until it was silenced, encased in stone, and this time, its chest was exposed while its head was covered. The Keeper took another sliver of C-Pain while their calves itched and burned as the wiggenweld healed their flesh wounds, before holstering their wand and drawing the dagger that Sebastian had given them.

Having recovered enough to move, they leapt forward, landing on the dragon's exposed belly, and grabbed one of the great dragon's scales tightly between their fingers. Chest heaving with exertion and with a grunt of effort, the Keeper ripped the scale out, exposing the dragon's soft underbelly.

Shoving the bloody scale into their pocket, they held the dagger in both hands and brought it down on the dragon's hide. The blade's tip pierced the thick skin, but its body was so tough that they struggled to get it in further.

The Keeper's eyes glowed red and they leaned back, before throwing their weight forward again, putting all their strength into it, red bleeding from their body as they strained their muscles to their limit.

Until finally, with a shout, the blade sank fully into the dragon's body.

The pillar shook as the dragon's exposed tail thrashed, and the Keeper released the hilt of the dagger. Leaving it buried in the dragon's body, they jumped back and out of the way, before the pillar shattered once more.

The dragon thrashed violently in the shower of rock and stone, and the Keeper struggled to dodge the hail as they distanced themselves from it.

This continued till the debris settled and the Keeper watched warily as the dragon got to its feet unsteadily.

Had the poison not begun to work yet? Or was the poison not enough? The Keeper worried, but it seemed that they had been needlessly concerned, as the dragon barely managed to stumble a step forward, before collapsing to the floor.

They approached, watching silently as the dragon struggled to regain its footing, growling and wheezing.

A feeling of pity overtook the Keeper as they watched it struggle, threatening growls soon giving way to high pitched fearful whines and whimpers.

This creature hadn't fought them because it wanted to. It hadn't killed Osric because it wanted to. It had been forced. With their Pain energy, the power that Ranrok had stolen from them.

How hollow a victory this was.

As the dragon's struggles abated and its bright orange eyes began to lose their glow, the Keeper cautiously approached, knelt by its jaw and placed their hand gently on the side of its head.

“I'm sorry.” The Keeper murmured. “But you have my word, this will not happen again.”

The dragon's breathing gradually became weaker and soon, it ceased to draw breath altogether.

With a heavy sigh, the Keeper stood. The cavern was now eerily quiet, and they grimaced as they drew their wand. A quick tempus told them that it was almost five, they didn't have time to rest, and they took another sliver of C-Pain energy to recover their stamina, before getting to work.

Placing their wand against the dragon's collar, they tugged the E-Pain energy out of the band and transferred it to the empty jar. Before inspecting the collar, finding a latch on the back that they could unfasten and they removed it with some effort, placing it in their satchel.

Then they went to its belly and grasped the hilt of their dagger, pulling it from the dragon's body slowly and carefully. Wouldn't be funny if they cut themselves on it or got some of the bloodroot poison in them after all.

It took some effort to dislodge, but as the blade came free, it snapped in half, and the Keeper sighed as they held the broken blade. It looked like the shattered glass in the middle had weakened its structural integrity.

Well, at least they could bring back this half for now, the rest of the blade would be recovered when they gutted the dragon for parts.

“Tynx, Tibsy, Penny.” The Keeper called out as they sheathed the dagger, and with three soft pops, the elves appeared beside them.

Penny was quite startled by the dragon carcass and stumbled back in fright, but Tibsy steadied and comforted her, while Tynx bowed to the Keeper. “Yes, Master?”

“Take this carcass back to Dìon territory and harvest its parts.” The Keeper instructed. “But keep them separate from the parts of Shai's mother. This carcass is contaminated by poison, so its value is likely reduced, but it might still be worth something.”

“Yes, Master.” Tynx nodded and turned towards the other elves. “If we combine our magic, we should be able to get it home.”

“There's a blade and glass shards in its belly, so be careful of that. And the aforementioned poison.” The Keeper added as the elves plodded over to the carcass, Penny still looking rather disturbed.

The Keeper were quite glad that they'd had their elves wear shoes, if they cut their feet and stepped in poisoned blood, that would be quite... bad.

With that, the three elves snapped their fingers in unison and the large dragon's carcass disappeared, along with the elves.

The Keeper flicked their wand to vanish the blood from the floor and restored the pillar with a reparo, before turning to scan the cavern. Now they had to find the Fear-Pill. Great.

“Tempus.” The Keeper cast, fifteen minutes past five. They had to get a move on, but how would they find it? Should they search for it after killing Gnarlak?

Ugh, no time. For now, they would just check the place and perhaps they would come across it.

The Keeper walked across the cavern, limping slightly as their wounds continued to heal with the aid of their wiggenweld potions. Checking for traps or secret tunnels, and as they did so, a curious feeling began to gnaw at them.

It felt almost like a pull.

Like something in their body was gravitating towards something else, something nearby.

The Keeper wondered for a moment if they should be listening to that pull, but decided that if they kept their guard up, it would be alright. So, they closed their eyes and focused on the sensation.

In their mind's eye, the Keeper stood, a single point in space, and they could feel something familiar pulling them in one direction and in another, something almost cold.

The Keeper recalled the misty smoke, given off by the Fear-Pill, and its chill. If it was constantly smoking, perhaps that was what they were sensing?

Well, they had been hoping to find and retrieve the Fear-Pill, so they decided to follow the cold sensation first, moving cautiously and occasionally opening their eyes to avoid tripping.

After a few minutes, they felt as though they were right beside the cold spot. When they opened their eyes and looked around, they quickly spotted the Fear-Pill lodged in a crack in the floor. Using their wand, they extracted it and placed it back in its jar.

Now to investigate the other pull. If the cold sensation was the Fear-Pill, then...

They closed their eyes, focusing once again, and followed the tug.

Every step towards it felt like falling.

Growing stronger as they walked, until they found themselves standing before a wall. How strange. The Keeper examined the wall for a moment before casting a Revelio. As the charm washed over the area, something on the wall lit up in their vision, a rock that seemed unnaturally smooth.

They tapped the rock with their wand and the wall split in two, sliding aside to reveal what was unmistakably a Repository, with familiar E-Pain swirling within its confines. So, this was what Gnarlak was hiding here, a grin that was all teeth spread across their face, this must have been a backup cache Ranrok had sequestered away for distribution to his army.

With a wave of their wand, the Repository opened, and the Keeper examined its contents. It didn't look like there was much left in the silver receptacle, certainly not enough to fuel an army for a war. What strategist would be spoiling for a war when their trump card was so diminished?

That was strange to them, especially after Gnarlak had proven his intelligence and paranoia with his traps, but they supposed it didn't matter to them much. It'd be nice to get an answer to that, but this was first and foremost a job.

The Keeper withdrew an empty jar from their satchel and set to work stealing a majority of the energy, leaving just enough so that it wouldn't be obviously emptied, unless he looked too closely. Even if Gnarlak took the amount of energy they'd left in it, they should still be able to defeat him relatively easily.

Finishing up with that, the Keeper waved their wand and closed the Repository back up, along with the wall. They then took a few more rounds about the cavern to search for anything that would hinder their work and found nothing of note.

Perhaps he felt confident enough in his maze of traps and dragon to leave the cavern relatively clean, or he didn't want to risk the dragon triggering anything. The Keeper thought idly as they cast a disillusionment charm on themselves and hid behind the pillar closest to the Repository, so that they couldn't be seen from the entrance.

Checking the time, the Keeper abruptly remembered to do their evening Animagus chant, and quickly placed their wand against their heart, grimacing at the odd second heartbeat that thrummed in their ears for a moment. They'd be glad when the Animagus process was over and done with, it sure was inconvenient having to do this twice a day.

Fortunately, after all they'd done, the Keeper didn't have to wait very long before they heard footsteps emerging from the maze tunnel. Not too shabby, for everything to have gone perfectly according to schedule.

The Keeper watched as the goblin lumbered across the cavern floor, eyeing his clothes and armour. Surprisingly light on the armour actually, compared to Ranrok and the other Loyalists, he was carrying a smaller axe than usual too, standard crossbow.

Shouldn't be too hard to dispatch. They'd probably be better served going for a clean diffindo at the back while he was busy collecting energy at the Repositor-

“You might as well come out, I can feel your bloodlust.” The goblin called out as he came to a stop before the wall, turning around to face the pillar they'd been hiding behind.

Well, there went all their efforts to stay undetected.

The Keeper leisurely stepped out from behind the pillar, dispelling their disillusionment charm with a flick of their wand.

“You...” Gnarlak’s beady eyes gleamed with hatred the moment they landed on the Keeper. “I'd been wondering what manner of creature the eyes I'd felt belonged to, so careful they were, that even I couldn't discern its owner's intentions. Perhaps it's no surprise that it would be you.”

“Know me, do you?” The Keeper chuckled, leaning casually against the pillar they'd emerged from.

“Of course. Soulless murderer.” The goblin bit out.

“Pot, kettle.” They snorted. “I think at this rate, you'll have killed more of your own kind than I.”

“Perhaps, but unlike you, I haven't touched the red magic.” Gnarlak sneered.

The Keeper frowned, was he seriously considering the usage and consumption of Pain energy on par with killing his own fellow goblins?

“How'd you tell?” The Keeper asked, struggling to keep their tone conversational and indifferent.

“The red in your eyes gives you away, child.” Gnarlak answered with a smirk. “But it is so subdued. None I know would be able to resist gorging themselves on that magic, makes my Loyalists so obedient and easy to control. So, for the red to be that mild, you must be running out. That's why you're here, isn't it?”

The Keeper narrowed their eyes, well, if he thought so, they weren't about to correct him.

“I'm sure you're thirsting for more, would you like some?” He tapped the wall with what was probably Vesper’s wand, and it opened to reveal his nearly empty Repository, a misty red fog spilling into the chamber.

“If you kneel before me and beg for forgiveness, perhaps I'll share some of the power Ranrok discovered.” Gnarlak’s grin was cruel and his tone mocking.

“I think you mean stole.” The Keeper spat, some of their legitimate anger rising to the surface, as they left their spot against the pillar to stand in the centre of the chamber, several metres away from him. “That power is mine by right.”

“Is that a no?” Gnarlak ignored their statements, and the Keeper intentionally looked away, hoping to give him the impression that they were tempted by the offer.

“So that's how you've been controlling your army? By being the only provider of their drug. Why are you giving out that power in such vast quantities?” The Keeper asked instead, wouldn't do to kill a double like Faun did after all. “Do you not fear depleting your trump card long before the war even begins?”

Gnarlak scoffed. “I care little for what comes after the war. My lord and my love died to bring and win the war for our people, and then they turned on him. Denounced him!”

His voice was a furious shout by the end, pain written all over his face. “They abandoned Ranrok. He who laid down his life and his sanity for them. I care not if my kinsmen win or lose the war. I will simply bring it about, as my love intended.”

Well, can't fake that level of madness, plus he was missing a finger like Faun said.

So Gnarlak would begin a war and then leave his fellow goblins at the mercy of wizardkind, all to punish them for denouncing Ranrok, for not heralding him as a martyred messiah. At least Ranrok had wanted the E-Pain energy to win the war, this madman practically wanted his people to lose it.

“Your lord.” The Keeper spat in disgust. “Killed his own brother in cold blood. He was insane.”

“Yes...” Gnarlak’s pupils were pinpricks as he gazed, seemingly through the Keeper, at something far in the distance, visible only to him. “He gave up everything, his family, his life and his sanity. We knew what the red magic was doing to him, and he forbade me from touching it myself, but he needed it, to win the war.”

The Keeper flinched. That sounded too much like their own words to Sebastian and Ominis. They needed it. To cure Anne, to protect what was theirs. The mantra they repeated to themselves every time they stilled their trembling fingers, as they struggled against the urge to consume more than their weekly dose.

How then, were they different from Ranrok?

“All will feel our pain.” Gnarlak murmured and the Keeper bristled at his words.

No, they were different from Ranrok. They just wanted to be free of suffering for the rest of their days, and maybe get the justice that had been denied them.

Ranrok and his Loyalist army wanted to tip the scales and become the oppressors, wanted to grind all of Wizardkind under heel. Innocent and guilty thrown into the same hellfire the goblins had endured. Simply trading places, the suffering unending.

Gnarlak was worse, he abstained from touching the Pain energy, sure, but he had no loyalty to anything or anyone. He'd lost all principles and only sought destruction. He had to die. This wasn't just a job anymore.

It was their job.

“Very well.” The Keeper made a show of putting away their wand in their thigh holster, and strode forward calmly, not reacting when a wide smirk spread across Gnarlak’s face. “If you give me the rest of your ‘red magic’, I will serve.”

Placing a hand over their heart and dropping to one knee at the goblin's feet, the Keeper bowed their head, as one would before a king. Cackles of laughter grated on their ears, but it only lasted for a handful of seconds.

Their eyes glowed red and in a single smooth motion, the Keeper's hand dropped to grasp the hilt of Sebastian's dagger, drawing the broken blade, and with their enhanced speed, swiftly slashed it across Gnarlak’s throat, silencing him before he could so much as blink.

The goblin fell backwards with a choked gurgle, and collapsed to the floor, clutching at his throat as blood bubbled through his lips and squeezed past his palm, flowing down his arm and seeping into his cloth.

The Keeper stood slowly, watching impassively as Gnarlak inched backwards across the floor, trying to distance himself from them. Fear and anger in his eyes, even as his veins darkened with the residual poison still coating the dagger.

“I fight to protect, you fight to throw away what Ranrok left you. His poisonous dream ends with you.” The Keeper gazed down at him, as they drew and raised their wand to finish the job. “Diffindo.”

The goblin's head hit the floor and rolled for a few steps, while his body slumped to the ground.

And just like that, it was done.

The Keeper took a deep breath, before sighing and stooping to collect Vesper’s wand, shoving it into their satchel as they straightened. They had more work and cleaning up to do before they could go home.

Casting a levitation charm on the goblin's boot, the Keeper raised it so that he hung upside down in the air and the blood drained from his corpse through the opening in his neck.

They then collected the remaining E-Pain energy and placed the empty Repository into their satchel as well. They would give it to Borgok that he might recycle the silver to craft their purchases from, should offset the price somewhat.

It took a while before Gnarlak’s head and body were emptied enough to make less of a mess, and the Keeper shoved both into an expanded pouch they'd brought along, to provide evidence of their kill.

Finished with everything they needed to do, the Keeper took out Owl's two-way pocket mirror and opened it. “Owl.”

A moment later, he appeared in the reflection, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, kid! You're still alive!”

“Of course, finished off Gnarlak too.” The Keeper snorted. “And there was a bloody dragon in here.”

“A dragon!?” Owl exclaimed. “What happened with it?”

“Like I said, there was a dragon in here.” The Keeper smirked and Owl's eyes became very round and wide.

“Damn, a dragon too. Guess I underestimated you.” The man murmured.

“Anyway, I'll meet you at the pub to give you your payment around ten.” The Keeper continued. “If you get there before me, help me ask Alasdair to send Borgok a letter to see if he's free to meet tonight?”

Owl nodded. “Can do. Though, you sure, kid? You don't look so goo-”

The Keeper closed the mirror and pocketed it again.

A quick tempus informed them that it was just past seven, well, that gave them enough time to have dinner with Ominis and Sebastian, and grab a change of clothes.

Looking down at their torn and bloodied clothing, the Keeper sighed and turned to leave the cavern. Thank goodness Ominis was blind, they'd never hear the end of it if he were to see them like this.

That was what the Keeper so thought at least, until they collapsed on Dìon castle's doorstep, the panicked shouts of their boyfriends ringing in their ears.

“Absolutely not! You're going to rest for the rest of the night!” Ominis exclaimed, storming after the Keeper as they strode towards the castle entrance.

“I'm fine, Ominis.” The Keeper shook their head. “I've already told Owl I'll be meeting with him at the Phantom’s in thirty minutes and possibly Borgok. I'd rather get this all sorted out tonight if I can.”

“You just collapsed from an impacted liver and a bloody hemothorax!” Ominis grabbed them by the arm, looking like he was barely restraining himself from pinning them to the floor to keep them from leaving.

“Which you've healed up quite nicely, I barely feel a thing!” The Keeper smiled brightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You-” Ominis spluttered in indignation, before spinning around with a glare. “Sebastian! Say something!”

The brunet in question was busying with something in his... bag.

“Sebastian, why are you taking out your broom?” The Keeper asked warily.

“Isn't it obvious?” Sebastian returned dryly, shooting them a glare that almost matched Ominis’ in intensity. “You're not fine, not even close.”

The Keeper blinked as his knuckles turned white around the broom's handle, his voice trembling as he spoke. “If I hadn't made that dagger for you-”

“But you did.” The Keeper interrupted with a soft and grateful smile. “And it saved my life.”

“Well, it shouldn't have!” Sebastian shouted, shaking his broom at them. “It was supposed to be a fail-safe! A last resort! There wasn't supposed to be a bloody dragon in there!”

“If I hadn't-” Sebastian's eyes were dark, in a way they’d only seen when talking about Anne's curse before. “If there were something worse, you might not have come home.”

The Keeper grimaced and folded their arms. Admittedly they hadn't thought they'd end up using the dagger either. The dragon had caught them off guard too and with its magic resistance, they doubted anything else they had would have put it down. They supposed that for all his confidence and bravado, Sebastian hadn't thought the stakes quite as high as they'd ended up being.

“I won't stop you from taking jobs like these.” Sebastian muttered, his voice strained. “But I’m not letting you go alone again until I'm convinced that you'll come home.”

With a sigh, the Keeper gave him a helpless smile. “I suppose I can't argue when you put it that way.”

“You most certainly can't argue if we put it any other way either.” Ominis scoffed.

“And I'm going with you tonight, to make sure you don't pass out in the middle of Knockturn Alley or something.” Sebastian added firmly.

The Keeper sighed, they supposed it wouldn't hurt to have Sebastian with them, Owl was already aware that they were living with him in Feldcroft after all.

“Fine. You can come with, but try not to say too much around Owl.” The Keeper conceded. “The man's sharper than a unicorn's horn.”

Receiving a nod from Sebastian, they then turned to Ominis. “Does that satisfy you, darling?”

Their blind lover didn't seem entirely appeased, but gave them a grudging nod, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “If you start having difficulty breathing, you come right back home, you hear me?”

The Keeper chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Yes sir. I'll come home and you can drain any fluid you want out of me.”

Ominis’ cheeks flushed and he pushed them away with an annoyed huff. “Ugh, just go before I change my mind.”

Grinning, the Keeper gave Sebastian a casual pat on the shoulder. “Come on, then.”

“Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them.” Sebastian murmured to Ominis as he followed.

Shaking his head, Ominis gave a tired sigh and ran a hand over his hair, as the doors closed behind his lovers. At this rate, he was definitely going to lose all said hair by the time they reached their thirties.

Still, they'd come home alive, which was better than he'd feared, considering that the Keeper had gone up against a dragon on their own. He would have thought they'd come home more injured than the Hogsmeade broom incident rather than less. He grimaced, the memory alone was enough to tempt him to go downstairs to pay the depressed Selwyn an unpleasant visit.

Ominis shook the thoughts from his mind, no, he should just focus on being happy that they'd survived. With another sigh, he turned to head up the stairs.

At least their room here in Dìon finally had a proper bed, he was beyond exhausted.

The image of the Keeper’s broken body on Hogsmeade’s cobblestone remained burned into Sebastian's mind, as he followed them silently through Knockturn Alley and towards the pub. Not quite how he'd pictured his first trip into the illicit derelicts, but he was still too upset to really take in the sights.

From the moment the Keeper landed on the grass of Dìon castle's lawn, covered in blood, robes torn and tattered, smiling at him and Ominis as they collapsed, he could not shake the memory that had resurfaced.

His stomach had turned, and it was all Sebastian could do to hold in his panic as he carried them into the castle kitchens and set them down on Shai's bed to warm their cooling body, while Ominis hurriedly cast charm after charm on them. It was just from their flight through the cold winter air, but it felt all too familiar, the stench of rust and smoke, cold blood on his hands and nothing he could do.

Why had he agreed to let them go alone? Talking up a weapon he never thought would be needed. It was almost more terrifying that the Keeper hadn't disagreed, when he suggested that they'd needed the blade to win that battle.

Even with the Keeper's insane Ancient Magic and C-Pain energy, it was a plain old dagger and poison made by a novice that ended up legitimately being their trump card!? That had been a joke! The whole project was something to do to occupy himself. To scratch that frustrating itch by doing something, anything that made him feel like he was contributing to their survival, no matter how small.

It was supposed to have been small.

It hadn't been.

His 'small' contribution had brought them home.

What if he hadn't finished it in time? What if he hadn't made it strong enough? No, he couldn't let them do this again. He now understood why his beloved had lost their temper with him for being reckless on the Marunweem mountain. It was unbearable, imagining what might have happened to them if he hadn't gone with the old adage of, ‘better too much than not enough’, for the poison dosage.

He'd thought Ominis over-worrying as always, as the blond paced a hole into the floor for almost the entire four hours, till the elves came back with the dragon's body. His boyfriend had almost passed out from relief when Tynx said the Keeper was fine, and Sebastian had felt assured in his confidence in them.

Now, he felt like Ominis’ worry had been well founded and it was Sebastian who'd been stupidly overconfident. Again.

But what could he do? He was always just... tagging along. Following and watching, the sidekick of the main character. The Keeper, always solving his problems, providing cryptic mysterious answers while he stood on the sidewalk, and every time he acted on his own, he messed up and hurt someone. His uncle, Ominis, and even the Keeper themselves.

So, he'd been content to follow their lead and trust their judgement, let them guide him and point him in the right direction, but... what if they weren't as all-knowing as they came off? Twice now, they'd almost died while he wasn't watching. What could he do? What was he supposed to do?

Merlin, the Keeper drove him mad, in all the innumerable ways he needed them, relied on them. No, they hadn't been wrong about their direction, they just hadn't been strong enough. That's all.

He couldn’t afford to lose them. He just needed to make sure the Keeper had all the power in the world. As long as they were indestructible, he would have nothing to fear.

Right?

“Sebastian, we're here.” The Keeper whispered quietly to him and touched his arm gently. “Keep your wits about you, love. And just follow my lead.”

Taking a breath, Sebastian nodded. “Always.”

The flash of teeth in the Keeper's grin, under their hood, sent a shiver up his spine. He could almost pretend they hadn't been unconscious from their injuries two hours ago.

Following the Keeper inside, Sebastian glanced about cautiously, so this was the notorious Phantom’s Flask they'd talked about. It certainly looked like any other pub, barring the dour externalities.

“Heeeey, Sal!”

The moment the Keeper lowered their hood, there came a cheerful call from one of the nearby tables and Sebastian lowered his hood as well. Following them to the table, where a skinny fellow with dusty brown hair was seated, looking quite out of place between the intimidating patrons of this pub.

“Owl.” The Keeper nodded in greeting and took a seat, Sebastian doing the same beside them. So, this was the man his partner had hired, somehow, he felt younger than Sebastian had imagined.

“Congratulations on completing your first job, kid.” Owl grinned, raising his mug in toast to them, before adding. “Alasdair says Borgok can make it tonight.”

“Great, my thanks for passing on the message.” The Keeper tipped their head in gratitude.

“It's no bother at all.” Owl shook his head, before giving Sebastian a curious nod. “And who's your friend here?”

“This is Sebastian.” The Keeper answered, to Sebastian's surprise, what happened to aliases?

“Ah, the young man you've been living with!” Owl beamed, snatching Sebastian's hand off the table for an enthusiastic shake. “It's very nice to meet you!”

Sebastian blinked at the man for a few seconds, before cocking an eyebrow at the Keeper. “You told him?”

“Nope.” The Keeper flashed him a wry smile, before turning to speak with a blond lady that stopped by the table.

“Oh, don't sweat it, kid. I'm just too curious for my own good.” Owl gave a hearty laugh and patted Sebastian's hand. “And I peddle information. It's kinda my thing, comes with the trade.”

Right. Tracker and info guy. Must have been real curious to spend extra time sniffing the Keeper's business.

“Is that so...” Sebastian nodded slowly as he retrieved his hand. “Don't suppose you'd like to share how you came about that information?”

Owl chuckled with a pleasantly affable smile. “Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Got to keep some trade secrets or I'll lose me edge.”

Sebastian snorted lightly, sharp like the Keeper said. For once, he felt like it'd be better if he kept his mouth shut for most of this conversation.

“Speaking of trade.” The Keeper fished out a small pouch from their satchel and slid it across the table. “Here's the rest of your payment and your mirror.”

“Thank you kindly.” Owl grinned as he caught the small pouch.

The moment he did so, a blue flame appeared over the back of his hand.

“What was that?” Sebastian asked curiously.

“Just means the contract's conditions have all been fulfilled.” Owl explained, dropping the pouch into his rucksack and pulling out the rolled-up contract to present it to the teenagers. “See how the seal's turned turquoise? Now we need only bring our contracts to the guildmaster to discharge them.”

What fascinating magic, flashy, and elegant in a way he appreciated, and Sebastian couldn’t help but enquire further. “What happens if a Merc fulfils their end of the contract, but the contractor doesn't pay?”

“Oh, the contractor will feel like they're engulfed in blue flames until they make the agreed payment.” Owl answered with a bit too much enthusiasm. “If the payment is something that can't be made any longer, Alasdair will try to negotiate an alternative, but otherwise, it's... let’s just say, inadvisable trying to get out of paying.”

“I see.” Sebastian murmured, eyeing the colour changing wax seal. He'd spent some time examining the Keeper's contract after they'd gotten it, but it had been impossible to identify the type of wax it employed, and it'd driven him nuts for an entire week.

“And now that you've finished this job, what will you do next?” The Keeper asked Owl, their tone casual and conversational as the blond lady from before came by to drop off two tall glasses of lumpy brown sludge. Passing one to Sebastian, they cautioned. “Drink slowly.”

Taking the glass, Sebastian peered at it curiously and took a slow sip through the straw. What the- he leaned back in surprise.

He squinted at the sludge in the dim lighting, ice? That was bloody genius! He took another sip. Crunchy texture, coffee and chocolate? Brilliant! Could he recreate it? Ominis would love this. How the hell did the guildmaster make the ice so evenly shaved? Not a blade surely, crushing? No, each sheet was too thin. A spell no doubt, but he'd never read of a freezing spell this intricate...

“-stumble on someone who needs assistance or Alasdair points someone at me.” Owl's voice cut in on Sebastian's speculation.

Right, the Keeper was still interrogating Owl, Sebastian shook his head and refocused on the conversation.

“Not too different from the way I made my earnings before, I see. What made you join the Phantoms?” The Keeper asked with a cajoling smile and Sebastian had to look away to calm his heart.

Powerful, intelligent, cunning, oh, and bloody hot. Sometimes Sebastian still felt like he needed to pinch himself to check that he wasn't just having a complex dream of the new fifth-year that just happened to be his type.

“It was mostly happenstance. Shortly after Hogwarts, I stumbled into the pub in the middle of a job, not knowing what it was. Alasdair plucked me out and offered me a spot. Said something about dying young if I play without a team for too long.” Owl laughed. “Won't disagree, he's helped me out of tough spots many a time. Mostly when someone wants info I'm not selling.”

“How much does Alasdair help his Mercs?” The Keeper asked.

“Beyond facilitating contracts, he hammers heads if anyone tries to force us to do a job uncontracted, or tries to cheat us. He plays judge if there's a disagreement over payment.” Owl listed with a thoughtful expression. “He only stays out of it if we're in trouble as part of a job. We get to deal with the consequences of accepting a job that’s over our heads, you know?”

“Makes sense, so how do you decide what jobs to take then?” The Keeper prodded.

Owl flashed them a wry smile that was a tad confusing to Sebastian, but he imagined the Keeper understood it. “I take jobs I'm interested in or work that pays well. Though I don't normally take wet work, you're a bit of an exception. Still rather impressed by how deep your pockets are for a Hogwarts student.”

“What can I say, I do good work.” The Keeper chuckled. “So, what are you going to do with my coin? Enjoy an expensive lifestyle?”

“Oh yes, very expensive lifestyle. Wouldn't recommend taking in six orphans unless you're masochistic.” Owl shook his head.

“You've got six kids!?” Sebastian exclaimed incredulously, somehow the idea of this guy being a dad felt absurd.

“Yup.” Owl's grin was absolutely glowing with pride. “Oldest is in fourth-year at Hogwarts.”

“I guess you like kids.” The Keeper commented dryly.

“Well, yes. That's one reason.” Owl nodded slowly, and his eyes narrowed with some frustration. “The lack of magical orphanages is another.”

“I see.” The Keeper's expression was neutral, and Sebastian was quite amazed that they could wear such a detached look, while he had to take another drink from his glass to smother his grimace.

“I grew up on the muggle streets and I wouldn’t wish that on a magical kid, but I can't run an orphanage on my own and the damn Ministry doesn't give a rat's arse.” Owl shook his head with a tight smile. “So, I do what I can for the kids I come across.”

“And I'll thank you for that.” The Keeper flashed a small smile at the man, which seemed to brighten his disposition some. “If you like helping orphan kids, then perhaps you'll be willing to take another job from me.”

“Oh?” Owl raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to fold his hands on the table. “What kind?”

“I'd like you to help us find his sister.” The Keeper tilted their head towards Sebastian, and he promptly choked on his drink.

“His sister?” Owl echoed, eyeing them warily. “You're not-”

“Sebastian's twin sister, Anne Sallow, cut contact with him and we're hoping for reconciliation, but we don't know where she is and she's not answering our owls.” The Keeper gave Owl a hopeful smile. “I'd appreciate it if you could help these orphan twins reunite. I'll pay you handsomely for this of course.”

Coughing to clear his throat, Sebastian wasn't sure if the tears in his eyes were from choking, or from overwhelming gratitude. He couldn’t believe he hadn't thought of this himself and felt a tad stupid now, of course, a professional tracker would be the perfect person to help them find Anne.

Had the Keeper taken up this Mercenary position, thinking too of the connections they'd obtain that could help Sebastian find his twin? The sheer number of things they'd taken on for him was beyond belief, and honestly, inspired no small amount of guilt in him.

“Want to tell me why she cut contact?” Owl asked with a charming smile and the Keeper laughed.

“You don't need to know that to find her.” They answered with an equally knowing smile and Sebastian felt like he was watching a chess match.

Owl gave them a hearty laugh. “I suppose I don't. Very well, I accept the job. Got anything that might help?”

“We've already searched these locations.” The Keeper unrolled a map on the table and began pointing out some of the towns that Ominis had been to, in search of Anne.

Sebastian was also happy to contribute with Anne's preferences and any habits that could help Owl determine where she might have chosen to live. While the Keeper dodged several more attempts at digging additional information and stopped Sebastian every time he came close to oversharing.

When that was finally done, the Keeper and Owl left Sebastian at the table while they went over to the bar to archive their previous contract and create a new one for Anne's search. He watched from the table as the bartender cum guildmaster stamped a seal on the old contracts, turning the wax a deep green.

Honestly, Sebastian was amazed at how deftly the Keeper was handling all this. While he enjoyed political chess as much as the next Slytherin, he had to admit that it was a bit tiring to play against someone like Owl. The man made it extremely easy to forget that he was an information broker, and Sebastian really couldn't believe that he'd been a Hufflepuff.

Then again, the Keeper had played that game well from the moment he met them- bloody hell, had it really been three years already? It'd been difficult playing against someone he found distractingly attractive, but the whole Anne thing and the lack of Ominis had somewhat tempered his libido.

Now, however? Watching the Keeper striding confidently through a pub full of dangerous wizards, witches, goblins and other creatures, bantering with a bartender who looked like he could snap a man in half with a sneeze. Merlin's blue balls, it was hot.

A little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Ominis, reminded Sebastian that he was there to make sure the Keeper didn't push themselves, not gawk at them. Which was difficult to convince himself of, when they looked far more in their element here than he felt.

The Keeper soon returned with Owl in tow, tucking away both the new and old contracts with one hand, while the other held a tray carrying a plate of chips and two new glasses of that brilliant chocolate ice drink.

“Alright, I'll let you know how it goes, but it'll probably take longer than Gnarlak.” Owl was saying as the two reached the table, and he shot Sebastian a small smile. “I doubt your sister's got an army's worth of movements or criminal activity to track, and it doesn't help that she can apparate.”

The Keeper and Sebastian snorted at the same time, the idea of Anne doing anything remotely criminal was laughable.

“It's fine, we'll just be glad to speak with her again.” The Keeper replied evenly as they sat down with the tray, and Sebastian couldn't quite stop himself from glancing at them at their words. After all, they weren't planning to just talk with her.

“Uh huh.” Owl grinned, hefting his rucksack over his shoulder. “See you next week, kid.”

“Till then.” The Keeper nodded, and popped a chip into their mouth, while the tracker gave Sebastian a parting wave as he left the pub.

“That was impressive, you sure got a lot out of him.” Sebastian smiled, curiously stealing a chip from their plate to taste.

Not bad, but he would take no more. Seeing as they'd rushed off after being healed, the Keeper hadn't yet eaten, and he was fairly certain that they planned to hit the hay when they got home, only having eaten this paltry excuse of a snack for dinner. He could already hear Ominis’ complaints.

“Trust me, love. We only got what he deigned to share. That arse knew what I was doing, he was just humouring my prying.” The Keeper grumbled, taking a sip from their glass. “Glad you didn't see my first go, gave him far more when he first tried prodding at me.”

“Hard to imagine, what with the way you handled him this time.” Sebastian chuckled.

“Yeah well, I do learn, you know?” The Keeper flashed him a teasing smile, and Sebastian scolded his heart for going nuts at such a small thing. You'd think they hadn't been dating - and occasionally getting each other off, though not nearly as often as he'd like - for almost two years now.

“That I do.” Sebastian took a gulp of his drink in the hopes of cooling his head down, and winced when a sharp pain bloomed in the back of it.

“I told you to drink slowly.” The Keeper shook their head with a fond smile.

“And now I know why.” Sebastian's laugh was a broken up staccato as he rubbed at the base of his skull.

“Don't worry, it'll pass in a bit.” The Keeper reassured with a fond smile that undid any impact the drink had had on cooling his head, as they popped another chip into their mouth.

A few minutes and most of the plate of chips later, something caught the Keeper's attention, just off to the side, and Sebastian followed their line of sight, spotting a goblin that was lumbering over to their table.

“Borgok.” The Keeper nodded at the goblin, gesturing at the chair across. “Please, take a seat.”

“I assume you have good news.” Borgok's smile was knowing as he sat down.

The Keeper pulled a pouch from their satchel and dropped it on the table. “Here you go, Gnarlak’s head, as agreed.”

The goblin's eyes were wide as he stared at the small bag. “You- is that?”

“Yup, and the rest of him too.” The Keeper nodded and Sebastian wrinkled his nose in disgust, ew.

“Wha- why did you bring his body?” Borgok asked faintly.

“Evidence of the kill?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow in confusion. Ah, Sebastian cringed, right, muggleborn.

Borgok gave an uneasy laugh as he picked up the pouch. “Er, I appreciate the thoroughness, but the contract is evidence enough.”

“Oh.” The Keeper blinked.

“That would be the magic part of the contract.” Sebastian whispered into their ear, and they cleared their throat in some embarrassment.

“Right, good to know.” The Keeper nodded awkwardly, quickly changing the subject. “Anyway, there's also some goblin silver in there that you can use to craft my requested items.”

“Of course, glad to see that I was right about your capabilities.” The goblin nodded slowly as he gingerly placed the pouch in his pocket. “I believe you wanted a cauldron, two collars of human size...”

“And an armlet.” The Keeper continued, handing him a sheet of paper with the measurements for their items. “And make that three collars.”

“Alright.” Borgok nodded, glancing at the list before pocketing the slip. “I should have them ready for you by next week.”

“Oh, what about the Fear-laced blade idea I had?” Sebastian prodded the Keeper in the arm, speaking in a hush. Considering how handy the poisoned dagger had ended up being, he felt like he’d rest easier if they got something stronger to replace it.

“Right, actually, Borgok. Do you think you'd be able to make a dagger that has a similar design to the collars?” The Keeper asked. “Essentially a dagger that would inject in the same way collars do.”

Borgok frowned. “I told you, I don't make weapons anymore.”

“Are you taking the piss?” A surge of anger overtook Sebastian, and he glared at the goblin across the table. “You sent them into a dangerous battle without arming them or giving them anything to go on! They had to kill a bloody dragon to do your damn job and now you're holding out on weapons that'll keep them alive!?”

A crack formed on the glass cup in Sebastian's tight grip and the Keeper placed a hand on his, murmuring quietly. “Calm down, love.”

“A dragon?” Borgok echoed with a startled look.

“Indeed.” The Keeper answered. “Gnarlak had a dragon in his control, and I broke a poisoned dagger in its hide and would like a replacement.”

Borgok's expression was still uncertain, and the Keeper pressed him further.

“Our contract says that you will supply me with any goblin silver metalsmithing. Are you going back on our agreement?” The Keeper's eyes narrowed. “I thought this was to be an ongoing partnership to prevent further uprisings, perhaps you'd like to handle future rebellion leaders on your own, hm?”

The goblin hesitated for a moment more, before sighing and nodding. “Well, I did agree to that, and I suppose there's a difference between crafting weapons to prevent war and crafting them for war. Very well, I'll craft a dagger for you as well, it shouldn't be too difficult to give it a functionality similar to the collars.”

“Thank you.” The Keeper nodded, giving Sebastian a small smile that helped him relax further.

“Did you actually kill the dragon?” Borgok asked after a few moments.

“I did actually, hardest battle since Ranrok himself.” The Keeper chuckled. “Gnarlak was easy by comparison.”

“Incredible, with a poisoned dagger you said?” Borgok asked with some amazement. “We have one living in Gringotts' vault caves that we would unleash upon thieves, so I'm quite familiar with a dragon's ferocity.”

“Yes, it would likely have killed me if not for this dagger Sebastian made.” The Keeper withdrew the broken dagger from their satchel and presented it to the goblin, warning. “Be careful, it's still steeped in poison.”

Borgok drew the dagger from its sheath and inspected the broken blade, the unmistakably sulfuric stench of dragon blood filled the air, along with the sickening sweetness of the poison. “Curious design, and you made this, young man?”

Sebastian nodded. “Had the hollow in the middle covered by glass, with poison inside.”

“To hold enough poison for a dragon... I must say, that's rather brilliant.” The goblin nodded, scrutinising the edge for a moment more, before asking Sebastian. “Interested in blacksmithing?”

“Not exactly, I just wanted them to be safe.” Sebastian murmured, glancing at the Keeper as he answered, though it made him slightly embarrassed when Borgok's eyes softened with understanding. Clearing his throat, Sebastian continued. “Though I was thinking of becoming a Curse Breaker for Gringotts when I graduate.”

“Is that so...” Borgok eyed him speculatively and took another look at the blade in his hands. “Sebastian, was it?”

He raised a questioning eyebrow at the goblin and Borgok steepled his fingers with a small smile. “I'd like to offer you the opportunity to learn from me.”

“Wha-?” Sebastian blinked at him in confusion, what in Merlin's name was this goblin on about?

“My apprentice... my nephew.” Borgok sighed. “Was murdered by Ranrok for seeking peace with wizardkind, and I think he'd be happy if I took on a human as an apprentice. One who understands what it means to create with and for love.”

Sebastian's eyes went wide, there was some poetic irony, that a goblin would seek to bridge relations with humanity through him of all people. He who had spent two years hating and killing goblins, and here he was, being offered apprenticeship by a master blacksmith, who was a goblin.

“And this.” Borgok raised the broken blade. “Unpolished and lacking in technique, but extraordinarily designed and I can feel the effort that went into it. It would be a shame to let a mind for craft and a steady hand go to waste, and I can get you a fast track into the Curse Breaker ranks, if you accept.”

“I-” Sebastian floundered for a moment, before looking to the Keeper for help.

“It's your future, it's up to you.” They patted him on the shoulder, and he frowned thoughtfully.

Well, it would help to have a way into the Curse Breakers immediately after graduation, without any prior experience in the field. The sooner he gained access to their logs, the sooner he might find a cure for Anne's curse, and it would feel good, being able to jump into a well-paying job and contribute to their funds quickly.

Plus, the Keeper's experiments with energies would mean a lot of work with goblin silver. If he knew how to forge and craft with said goblin silver, he'd be useful to them. They'd done so much for him... Sebastian would do anything for them, anything to be useful, to make them stronger.

“I accept.” Sebastian answered and Borgok grinned.

“Excellent, we can speak further of the details next weekend. Shall we say, nine in the evening?” The goblin nodded. “I'm afraid I can't stay much longer.”

“Sure.” Sebastian agreed, still a little dazed by all the surprises that tonight had had to offer.

“I look forward to receiving my pay.” The Keeper gave the goblin a small smile.

“Of course, till then.” Borgok tipped his head in farewell and lumbered off towards the doors.

After he'd been gone for a few moments, the Keeper laughed lightly. “What a turn of events.”

“No kidding.” Sebastian chuckled, slumping against the back of his chair. “Somehow, I feel pretty tired after all that.”

The Keeper laughed lightly and stood, offering him a hand. “Come on, let's go home then.”

Home.

Sebastian smiled, and took their hand without hesitation. “Yeah, let's go home.”

Chapter Text

“Expecto Patronum!” Ominis flicked his wand and then paused. “Anything?”

“Just light mist.” Sebastian shook his head, and the blond boy sighed.

“Expecto Patronum!” The Keeper cast as well, before sighing when they conjured nothing but glowing mist. “If it's any consolation, I'm not having much success either.”

“Seriously, Sebastian. How did you do it?” Ominis folded his arms with an irritated expression.

“I told you, I just think about how lovely both of you look when you're happy.” Sebastian answered with a shrug, while his small glowing otter swam through the air around him.

“Well that's not very helpful for me, now is it.” Ominis grumbled.

The Keeper shook their head with a huff. “All that does is make me horny.”

There was a moment of silence, before Garreth gave them a disgusted look. “For Merlin's sake, can you three go ten minutes without flaunting your relationship in front of us single bastards?”

“Speak for yourself, I think it's quite sweet.” Natty waved off his complaints.

“Aha! So, you aren't single?” Garreth asked with a grin.

“I never said that.” Natty gave Poppy a nervous glance and seemed relieved that the Hufflepuff wasn't paying attention, before shooting him an annoyed glare as she flicked her wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

The funnel of mist that poured from her wand was probably the most corporeal besides Sebastian's, with the almost discernible form of a dog.

“Oh, almost got it!” Poppy clapped for Natty, who had on somewhere between a proud grin and a frustrated grimace.

“Still need more practice, Professor Sharp says that being able to cast a corporeal Patronus counts for a lot when being considered for admission to the Aurors.” Natty sighed, shooting Sebastian a mildly jealous look, which he returned with a cocky smirk.

“Don't worry, Natty, I'm sure you'll succeed. Christmas holidays start next week and there's still half a year before graduation.” The Keeper patted her on the shoulder, when a single freezing drop of water hit them on the arm.

Looking up, the Keeper eyed the dark clouds that had gathered overhead while the group had been practising spells in the courtyard after classes ended for the day. It wasn't cold enough to snow yet, but it was getting cold enough to hurt.

They were about to suggest that everyone head indoors, when the unmistakable sound of thunder rumbled across the moors, followed by a flash of light in the heavens.

Poppy gasped. “Is that!?”

“Lightning!” Sebastian and Garreth exclaimed at the same time, before glaring at each other.

“Come on!” Natty lifted her wand to create a barrier against the falling rain as she began to run towards the forest.

Exchanging excited grins, the rest took off after her, while Amit scrambled to shove his book into his bag. “Wait for me!”

The rain fell heavier and heavier with every moment, until it was pelting against the group's magical umbrellas as they filed into the forest. Each quickly dug up a box containing their crystal phial, before rushing back to the castle. The rain now a deluge that made it difficult to see or hear each other through the darkness, thunder shaking the earth with every rumble.

The group stood in the castle entryway for a few moments, catching their breath and lowering the hood of their school robes.

“The classroom we use on Saturdays should be empty by now, right?” Amit asked.

“Yes, hopefully. We don't know how long the storm will last, so the sooner we start, the better.” Natty nodded. “Let's go.”

The group made to follow her, when Poppy looked about, realising that there were only six of them present. “Hang on, where's-”

The doors opened again for the Keeper to slip in through them and lower their hood.

“Oh, there you are!” Poppy gave a relieved sigh.

“Sorry, tripped on a root.” The Keeper explained as they rejoined the group.

“Great, everyone's here, now can we get a move on already?” Garreth complained, getting several glares in response. “What? We're on the clock, I'm just saying it like it is.”

Natty rolled her eyes but didn't disagree. “Alright, let's go.”

Fortunately, the lightning storm continued to rage outside and didn't seem like it would let up any time soon. The group of teens were soon sitting in the middle of an empty classroom, removing their crystal phials from their dirt crusted boxes and unstopping them.

“Of course it would be red.” Garreth sighed, holding up the phial. “All I can think of is that this used to be a baby moth.”

“Thanks for reminding us.” Amit side eyed him.

“Alright, everyone, you'll need to do the daily chant one more time.” Natty instructed and the rest of the group, sans the Keeper, drew their wands to point at their hearts.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The five chanted and their wands glowed with a soft gold light that also shimmered around the crystal phials a moment later.

“Well done!” Natty clapped. “That glow means everyone has been doing the chant correctly. Now you just need to drink the potion. You'll have a vision of your animal form and then the double heartbeat will become painful, but don't panic. If you do, you might lose yourself to the animal.”

Nodding with varying degrees of nervousness, the five drank their potions, Garreth holding his nose as he did.

“Well, that wasn't so bad.” Ominis smiled as he passed Sebastian his empty phial and the brunet set both down on a nearby table.

“Speak for yourself.” Garreth grumbled as he set aside his phial as well.

“Oh!” Poppy suddenly exclaimed, while Sebastian pressed a hand to his forehead and Garreth shook his head.

A moment later, each of the five doubled over with a groan of pain while the golden glow shone from their skin.

“Alright everyone, take a deep breath. Don't fight whatever your body wants to do, listen to the second heartbeat and focus on the animal form you see.” Natty instructed and the Keeper could see everyone struggling to follow those instructions.

The Keeper desperately wanted to comfort Ominis and Sebastian, but didn't want to distract them either. So, they were forced to watch as the two boys collapsed to the floor with expressions of pain, sweat beading on their brows, and fists tight around their robes.

Several minutes passed this way, until Poppy cried out, her body contorting as a swirl of light shone around her and then, in her place was a brown coated deer with pale spots speckled across her back.

Natty immediately ran to her side, brushing her hand over Poppy's pelt and whispering comforting words to the deer.

A moment later, Sebastian grunted and the same happened, his form changing in a swirl of light, into a large dog with long brown fur and patches of white across his snout and belly. The Keeper finally allowed themselves to go to his side as well, and soft whimpers of pain came from the dog as they cradled him close.

The next to be enveloped in light, was Amit, who seemingly disappeared. Until the Keeper realised that there was a palm sized tortoise shell where he'd lain, its spiky black shell patterned with geometric star-like lines of orange. A few seconds passed, before a tiny orange snout poked out from under the shell.

The Keeper was relieved when Ominis finally finished his transformation too, becoming a rather large and beautiful white feline that was just slightly smaller than Sebastian, and had tufts of fur extending from the tip of his ears.

Dragging himself to his feet, Sebastian plodded over unsteadily to lie down beside Ominis, dwarfing the cat with his form. The Keeper too followed to his side, and with one hand, stroked the large cat's soft cream fur as he panted for breath, while with the other, ran their fingers through Sebastian's thick warm fur to soothe him as well.

Finally, the last to transform was Garreth, and he made a rather amusing squeak, before turning into a raccoon with reddish fur, lying on his back, puffy tail twitching as his chest heaved.

“Webale Katonda...” Natty murmured, smiling with relief. “It looks like everyone managed without complications.”

“Thanks to your guidance.” The Keeper nodded to her in gratitude, chuckling when they felt Ominis purring quietly against their palm. Finding the way Sebastian shoved his snout under Ominis’ chin to be quite adorable, though the big cat seemed to find it annoying and batted at Sebastian with a paw.

“When you feel able, I'd like everyone to try turning back into human form, just to make sure that everything went right.” Natty stroked Poppy's neck soothingly as she spoke.

With a huff, Sebastian pried himself from Ominis’ side to sit up and closed his warm brown eyes in focus. Amit's snout disappeared under his shell once more and Ominis opened his eyes, which seemed to still be unseeing milky pink orbs. A pity, the Keeper had hoped that Ominis might be able to see in his animal form.

A few minutes later, the five kids were kids once more and Garreth groaned, running a hand through his ginger mane. “Bloody hell, everything hurts, even my hair...”

“Quit whining.” Sebastian grumbled, holding his head between his hands while Ominis leaned tiredly against the Keeper.

“I think I need to lie down.” Ominis murmured.

“Best idea I've heard all day.” Amit gave a tired laugh.

“Help me back to the common room?” Ominis asked the Keeper.

“Of course.” They nodded and stood slowly, helping Ominis to his feet, before offering Sebastian a hand as well.

“What's the rush?” Garreth asked, raising an eyebrow at the three from the floor.

“Unlike you, I'd rather pass out in a bed.” Ominis rolled his eyes. “Bit more comfortable at the moment.”

Poppy gave a breathless laugh against Natty's side, and the Gryffindor nodded. “Yes, we should probably get some rest this weekend, we can have our Saturday meetings after school resumes.”

With a nod, the Keeper left with both boys leaning against them, supporting them out into the corridor, which was empty since most of the school was likely at dinner.

“Shall we use the Undercroft to do yours?” Ominis asked quietly, startling the Keeper and he gave them a wry smile. “I know you went to get your phial too.”

“I can help you to the common room first.” The Keeper shook their head, if he was aching enough to want a proper bed, that took priority.

Ominis rolled his eyes. “I only said that so we could leave quickly. If you think we're letting you attempt the transformation unsupervised, you're barmy.”

“Can't wait to see what you end up as.” Sebastian gave a tired chuckle.

“You guys...” The Keeper felt their heart warm with affection, really hoping that they would be something that could cuddle with their partners. “Alright.”

The trip to the Undercroft took a while but the reassuring sound of thunder followed them all the way to the secret entrance. Slipping inside, the Keeper left the boys sitting together on the bench while they set down their satchel, and sat on the floor with their crystal phial.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The Keeper chanted, with their wand placed to their heart, waiting for the phial to glow before taking a deep breath and bringing it to their lips.

The potion's taste was... weird. Not much of a taste actually, it just felt warm, maybe a tad salty. Like piss- which was a nauseating thought to have while drinking it, and the Keeper was happy to set the empty phial aside.

The strength of the second heartbeat caught them off guard and their vision hazed over for a second before clearing to the sight of... snow?

A white snowy sea, speckled with the occasional tree, as far as the eye could see.

The Keeper was puzzled, weren't they supposed to see their Animagus form? A slightest hint of movement caught their attention and there, in what they'd thought was a mound of snow in the shadow of a tree, a pair of golden eyes peered out at them.

The mound rose up on four legs and they realised that the shadows were grey fur, it growled low and threatening. Then the ferocious beast was charging at them, and before the Keeper could react, it dove into their chest, vanishing as though absorbed into their body.

Then the pain began.

It felt like hair-thin needles were being driven into their skin, four loud pulses throbbing between their ears, heat burning through their chest and searing through their body.

Golden light burned behind their eyelids, and they felt restrained, like they were wrapped in a thick blanket, tight around them, constraining every movement such that even breath could not be drawn.

Free.

They needed to be free. A scream built in their throat, and they fought their restraints but as they tore through their bindings and their mouth opened, a howl emerged instead.

Slumping forward, the Keeper collapsed to the floor, chest heaving for breath. They felt something touch their head and tensed, surprised when a growl rumbled in their chest.

“It's okay, you're safe...”

Sebastian. The Keeper tried to speak, but instead a soft whine emerged from their... snout. Right. Animagus form. Fucking hell, Garreth was right, everything hurt.

“A wolf, somehow I'm not particularly surprised.” Sebastian chuckled.

A wolf, a dog and a cat. The Keeper huffed in amusement, enjoying Sebastian's gentle caresses. Well, at least they'd gotten their wish to be an animal that would easily cuddle with their boyfriends.

A flash of light came from beside them and then there was a pretty white cat rubbing up against the Keeper's side. Huh, they'd thought Ominis rather large for a cat, he seemed smaller now.

A moment later, Sebastian joined him in dog form, and the Keeper was amused to realise that this was simply because they were quite a bit larger than both Ominis and Sebastian. Stretching out so that the two boys could lie against their belly, the Keeper gave a tired sigh and lowered their snout to the floor to rest.

Rumbling purrs came from Ominis’ chest as he started licking the fur on the Keeper's head, while Sebastian draped a front leg over Ominis’ back, nuzzled his muzzle against the cat's pale neck and promptly began snoring.

It was a curious feeling, being an animal, the light of the candelabras was somehow brighter, Ominis’ purrs and Sebastian's snores felt louder, the sound of rainfall audible even from the underground chamber. The smell of melting wax and burning wick, mingled with wood and oil, lit up like paths in their vision.

Most wonderful however, were the scents of Ominis and Sebastian. Somehow, the Keeper knew them. Knew what they meant.

Mates.

Family.

Pack.

Despite the ache still throbbing through the Keeper's body, the comfortable warmth that they felt with their partners by their side was pleasant enough that they considered it rather worth all the effort.

Closing their eyes, the Keeper allowed the rhythm of Ominis’ grooming to soothe the pain, and their tired consciousness soon faded into darkness.

“-which made it difficult to pinpoint since caracals have those tufts of fur on their ears that make them look like lynx. And while there weren't any records of albino caracals, all records of albino lynx were spotted, so I'm fairly certain of my conclusion.” Sebastian finished with a confident nod.

“So, Poppy's a Fallow Deer, Amit is an Indian Star Tortoise, Garreth is a common Raccoon.” The Keeper recited. “You're a Border Collie, I'm an Eurasian Wolf and Ominis is an albino Caracal.”

“Yup.” Sebastian beamed, clearly pleased that they'd listened attentively throughout his lecture. “Amit's is actually pretty rare, endangered species apparently. Albino caracals are basically unheard of too.”

“Of course, our Ominis is one of a kind.” The Keeper smirked proudly. “Though he probably shouldn't go about in Animagus form too often, since he stands out.”

“Bit of a bummer, that. He's only ever wanted to be like everyone else.” Sebastian murmured. “For some unfathomable reason.”

“Not so unfathomable I'd say, since the loveliest rose in the bush gets picked first. I mean, the biggest danger to him, particularly in Animagus form, would be poachers who would sell his pretty arse for a pretty penny.” The Keeper pointed out.

“Fair enough.” Sebastian conceded, before he snickered. “Something Garreth doesn't have to worry about, seeing as he's just a common raccoon.”

The Keeper rolled their eyes, they still didn't know where the odd rivalry between the two boys came from, but at least it was entertaining. “I think it's interesting how compatible Poppy and Natty's forms are.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “On the surface maybe, but fallow deer and gazelle come from very different environments, and one's got antlers while the other has horns.”

“I mean that they can prance together through the woods.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.

“I suppose they could, but gazelles are actually quite a bit faster than deer. So, Natty might have to wait for Poppy.” Sebastian shrugged.

“Knowing her, I doubt she'll mind.” The Keeper gave him a wry smile, before jabbing a thumb at the large double door that they'd been leaning against this whole time, patiently waiting for Sebastian to finish his verbal vomit. “It's ready, want to give it a try?”

“Sure.” Sebastian grinned and they moved aside.

He reached out to grasp the door's handle and it glowed for a moment, before there was an audible click, and he easily pushed the door open, before rubbing at his thumb absently.

“Excellent, it works despite the features I added.” The Keeper grinned, rather pleased that they'd managed to create a door for their bedroom that would only unlock in response to their Ancient Magic or Ominis’ parseltongue or Sebastian's blood. “I'm still impressed you managed to figure out how the blood verification ritual works with half the page covered in smudged ink.”

“Why thank you! It certainly wasn't easy.” Sebastian beamed proudly. “Though I do wonder why a locking charm this useful isn't more commonly used.”

“Probably the same reason people don't use dark magic, blood is creepy or something equally absurd.” The Keeper rolled their eyes.

“Yeah, probably. Now all I need to be concerned with is making sure no-one draws my blood and uses it for a key.” Sebastian gave a cocky grin. “Easy.”

“Even if that happens, I added a stipulation to the door so it rejects cold or stale blood.” The Keeper shrugged. “Blood degrades after it's been removed from the body, and the only way to preserve it would be to keep it cold, so that should be enough to counteract that.”

“You're supposed to agree that my duelling skill is unparalleled.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them.

“Well, can't really say that when I've put you on your arse.” The Keeper chuckled, giving him a teasing smile.

“Yeah, but I've spanked yours. So, where does that leave us?” Sebastian grinned.

“Doesn't count, because I liked it.” The Keeper' smile became amused.

Despite his ears going adorably red, Sebastian gave them a smirk, stepping closer and running his thumb over their bottom lip, murmuring softly. “Did you now?”

Flicking their tongue out, the Keeper caught the edge of his thumb with it and took a moment to revel in the heat that sparked in his eyes, before raising their wand and casting a tempus.

“Alright, now that we've confirmed that the door works, we can set up the hidden door to the basement with the same security design when we get back.” The Keeper patted him on the cheek. “We should get going, or we'll be late to meet Borgok.”

With that, they slipped out from between him and the wall to make for the stairs, and Sebastian let his forehead fall forward to rest against the stone with a sigh.

“Come on, Sebastian.” The Keeper called.

“Coming...” He replied with another sigh, grumbling under his breath. “Sure wish I actually were.”

Laughing internally at Sebastian, as he followed the Keeper down the stairs, they poked their head into the kitchen, where Ominis was lying, curled up and cuddled with the little dragon on its bed in his Animagus form.

Smiling at the adorable sight, the Keeper called out. “Ominis, we're heading out.”

The white caracal's ears twitched, and Ominis waved his tail at them in acknowledgement, so the Keeper chuckled and withdrew to join Sebastian in the entryway.

The two brought out their brooms and were soon off to Knockturn Alley.

The pub was lively as always, and since Borgok hadn't arrived yet, the Keeper brought Sebastian with them to the bar counter.

“Evening, Alasdair.” The Keeper greeted as they seated themselves, Sebastian following suit.

“Salamander.” The bartender smiled at them from behind his glasses. “What can I get you this fine evening?”

“Two of my usual and the house special.” The Keeper answered and when his eyes flickered towards Sebastian, they added. “This is Sebastian, he's assisting me with my work.”

“Is that so...” Alasdair eyed the brunet critically. “You sure about that, kid?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the man, and he gave a deep chuckle as he mixed their drinks.

“You've got bollocks lad, but I know a daredevil when I see one.” The bartender flashed him a knowing smile. “You like the heat of danger, but this line of work ain't a game. You would be ill suited to Mercenary work.”

“It's fine.” The Keeper waved off his concerns before Sebastian could retort. “He's not here to join, he's simply accompanying me to ensure that I do not perish in battle.”

The Keeper found Alasdair’s response rather interesting, seeing as they had been accepted by him on sight. Though they supposed that it should have been plain that it was their reputation and the guildmaster's intuition that made their admission so smooth.

“If you say so.” Alasdair shrugged. “Owl asked me to inform you that he cannot make it tonight, but he's made some headway and identified several potential leads.”

“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded as the bartender set two glasses of chocolate coffee ice before them.

They had to admit that they missed the convenience of Owl's pocket mirror, which they'd returned last week, since they no longer needed to coordinate so precisely. They really wanted to get a set for communication with Sebastian and Ominis, such artefacts were incredibly useful, but also apparently quite rare.

At this moment, the doors opened to admit Borgok and he lumbered over to the bar. “Evening Salamander, Sebastian.”

“Borgok.” The Keeper nodded as the goblin took a seat as well. “I assume you have my items?”

The goblin nodded, offering them the expanded pouch they'd given him before. “As agreed.”

When the Keeper took the pouch from him, a blue flame appeared over their hand. Despite this, they took a peek to verify that the pouch did indeed contain their promised artefacts, while Borgok greeted Alasdair and ordered a drink, before placing it in their satchel.

“How much coin would you like for them?” The Keeper asked and to their surprise, Borgok glanced at Alasdair, before shaking his head.

“In light of the unexpected difficulty and the surplus of silver you provided, I will consider this round of wares paid for.” The goblin smiled, accepting his drink from the bartender and raised his mug. “To our continued camaraderie.”

“To our mutual cause.” The Keeper raised their glass in answer as well, before taking out their contract with Borgok, handing it to Alasdair to be discharged with a stamp.

“Sebastian, I would like to discuss your apprenticeship further, if you are willing.” Borgok asked once the contracts were settled.

The still pouting brunet glanced at the Keeper, and they nodded. “I have things to discuss with Alasdair anyway.”

“Alright.” Taking his glass with a sigh, Sebastian followed the goblin to one of the tables, a distance away, to speak.

“Ah yes, I have something for you.” Alasdair smiled and retrieved a wooden box from behind the counter, presenting it to the Keeper. “As you have completed your first bounty, you are now an official member of the Phantoms. Congratulations.”

Having an inkling of its contents, the Keeper opened the wooden box and found a silver venetian half mask within it. It was simple and elegant, with a pattern of a salamander along one side and the flame emblem of the Phantoms along the other, while intricate swirls were etched into the edges of the silver.

“Figured you wouldn't want anything too fanciful.” Alasdair chuckled. “If you should wish to conceal your identity and wear only your status as a Phantom Mercenary, you need only don this mask.”

Giving him a grateful nod, the Keeper closed the box and placed it in their satchel with a simple. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, you are an investment, after all.” The bartender flashed them a small smirk. “Which reminds me, Vesper should be stopping by soon.”

“Excellent, I'll give him his payment then. Speaking of which, are there any new jobs I can take?” They asked after a moment. “The Christmas holidays have started, so my schedule is more flexible.”

“Certainly.” The bartender nodded. “Any preferences?”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, they could use more test subjects, now that they had the collars and cauldron to experiment with. Not to mention, they wanted to reassure Sebastian that they could handle Mercenary work on their own, that Gnarlak’s difficulty was really an exception, so a relatively easy job would be good.

“Any jobs with a human target but no obligation to bag a kill?” The Keeper asked, taking a sip of their drink.

“That's specific.” Alasdair cocked an eyebrow at them, but seemed to consider the request for a few moments, before bending down to rifle through something behind the counter.

“This might match what you're looking for.” The bartender extracted a contract to hand to the Keeper. “The target's wife put out a request to retrieve their coin from him. Apparently, he absconded with the family wealth and left her with debt and two children to raise.”

Accepting it, they examined the contract which outlined a request to steal all of worth from a man named Frederick Taylor, with a promised reward of twenty percent of the stolen valuables. It included a family photograph of the man, what was likely his wife and two children... and a familiar looking house elf.

Recognising the elf, the Keeper's eyes widened, and rage coiled within them. Tobbs. The friend of Deek, whom they'd found deceased in the spider infested caves, trapped within those tunnels with barely any supplies, forced to collect fucking leeches for his abusive master.

“I'll take it.” It took all their willpower to speak evenly as they returned the contract to the bartender.

“Alright, if you're free tomorrow, I can ask the contractor to drop by for the signing.” Alasdair nodded.

“Sure, keep me posted.” The Keeper nodded, taking a drink from their neglected glass to cool their anger. At least they didn't need to wait, without classes on Monday, they could afford to be out late into the night.

They'd sworn, a little over two years ago, in that dank cave, standing over the small body, that they would make Tobbs’ owner pay for his cruelty if they ever got the opportunity. Well, it seemed like said opportunity had arrived, and what a perfect candidate for a new test subject.

“If that is all, we'll speak again tomorrow.” The Keeper nodded to Alasdair and the bartender waved them off as they made their way over to the table where Sebastian was speaking with Borgok.

“That was fast.” Sebastian commented as they took a seat beside him.

“Mhm, got a new job too, I'll fill you in later.” The Keeper patted him on the shoulder. “How's your chat going?”

“We've agreed to lessons on Sunday afternoons, starting next week.” Sebastian explained simply and the Keeper nodded, about the same time as their lessons with Rackham then. An excellent time to select, on his part.

“Oh.” The Keeper spotted Vesper entering the pub. “I'll be right back.”

Slipping out of their seat once more, the Keeper left their drink in Sebastian's care and approached the man as he seated himself at the bar.

“Vesper.” The Keeper greeted, drawing the wand they'd retrieved from Gnarlak. “Is this yours?”

Vesper's eyes went wide, before a wry grin stretched across his scraggy beard as he reached a hand out for it. “Well, I'll be damned. You actually completed that bounty?”

Nodding, the Keeper handed him the wand. “Thanks to your warning about a large creature, I was better prepared.”

“What'd it end up being?” The man asked curiously as he gazed lovingly down at his wand.

“A dragon.” They answered dryly.

“A dragon, eh.” He chuckled. “That's a pretty big fish. Surprised you got out alive, how'd you get Gnarlak with a dragon to dodge?”

“By killing it first.” The Keeper shrugged.

The old hunter gave an incredulous snort, shaking his head. “Sure you did.”

In response, the Keeper wordlessly removed, from their satchel, the dragon scale they'd ripped out, and flashed it at the man.

His jaw went slack at the large ventral scale that could only have come from a dragon's belly, for it was perfectly intact and still bore the roots that would have been embedded in the dragon's flesh. There were no further words or proof needed, since dislodging the scale through impact would have caused some damage to it or its roots, and a naturally shed scale would be old and dry.

Thus, the only possible way to obtain a dragon's magically resistant scales in such pristine condition, would be to rip it out, and the only way most people might imagine getting close enough to pry it free with tools would require it be dead. Not to mention, its vibrant and rich magical energy marked it impossibly fresh.

“Well, I'll be damned, indeed.” Vesper laughed and guffawed. “A kid like you took down a dragon and that crafty goblin? Merlin, I wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible.”

“A force to be reckoned with indeed.” Alasdair chuckled and the Keeper belatedly remembered that the bartender was also within earshot, though they supposed it was of little consequence.

“Well, I now know who to ask if I need something done. It was a pleasure doing business with you.” Vesper holstered his wand and offered his prosthetic hand for a shake, which they took after a moment, and he tipped his hat at them. “Good luck, kid.”

“Enjoy your retirement.” The Keeper replied politely, accepting the conclusion of their conversation and made to return to Sebastian's side.

As they did, they saw Borgok standing and they exchanged parting nods, before sitting down beside Sebastian, and he related to them the details of his arrangements with the goblin. That he would work with Borgok at Gringotts for a few hours every weekend and that the goblin would see to it that Sebastian got the opportunity to meet the head of the Curse Breakers’ division, and that Borgok would vouch for him.

Their businesses settled, the two finished their drinks and left for home, the Keeper's heart filled with anticipation and an eagerness to test their new toys. There was much work to begin tomorrow and though they would need their energy for those tasks, they had a feeling that sleep would not come easy.

“Ominis, there's a letter for... you.” The Keeper called as they strolled into the master bedroom at Dìon the next day, after their usual Sunday afternoon lesson with Rackham.

Amused to see their partners lounging on the large king-sized bed, Sebastian reading a tome, lying on his front, while Ominis dozed, curled up with his head nestled comfortably in the small of the brunet's back. Cute.

Lifting his head, Ominis yawned before asking. “Who from?”

“I'm not sure.” The Keeper hummed. “But this has to be the most posh envelope I've seen in my life.”

The emerald green paper was thick with embossed letters and silver decorative swirls along the boarders of the silky smooth surface, and was that fucking perfume they were smelling!? Bloody hell, this one letter felt like it was worth a galleon on its own.

“Give it here then.” Ominis sat up and raised his hand as the Keeper climbed onto the bed, before placing it in his hand obediently.

The moment it touched his fingers however, Ominis stiffened, and the letter almost tumbled to the floor.

The Keeper frowned. “Ominis?”

Hearing the concern in their voice, Sebastian lifted his head as well, turning around and sitting up. The moment he saw the letter, he went. “Oh.”

Giving Sebastian a puzzled glance, the Keeper watched warily as Ominis took a deep breath and opened the envelope, withdrawing the letter with a discomforted expression. Raising his wand to charm the paper, he ran his fingers across the parchment and his lips pursed with disappointment.

“What's it say?” Sebastian asked and Ominis wordlessly held up the parchment for him to take.

Looking at the paper over Sebastian's shoulder, the Keeper's narrowed, an invitation to a yule gala in two days’ time from-

“Huh, it's been ages since your parents last tried to get you to attend.” Sebastian commented and Ominis flinched.

“Indeed, one would think they'd given up by now.” The blond's voice was strained with forced indifference and the Keeper smacked Sebastian on the head.

“I take it that you're turning the invitation down?” The Keeper asked hesitantly, wary of causing more hurt.

“I'll do what I've done for the last five years. Nothing.” Ominis huffed, folding his arms and murmuring quietly. “They can't even bother to invite me in person, why should I entertain such paltry and empty gestures?”

“As you should. You owe those awful people nothing and you never liked those parties anyway.” Sebastian agreed and Ominis wore a conflicted smile in response.

“If you like, we can hold our own Yule gala right here.” The Keeper suggested, giving Ominis a kiss on the cheek, whispering softly into his ear and making him shiver. “My prince.”

“I say, that's a fantastic idea.” Sebastian grinned and bounced off the bed, taking Ominis’ hand and pulling him to his feet, a bemused smile forming on the blond's face.

“Do you even know how to dance, Sebastian?” Ominis asked in a dubious tone.

“Nope, not a clue!” Sebastian announced confidently. “But I've seen dancing before, shouldn't be too hard to copy.”

Hearing this, the Keeper scrambled to get off the bed quickly as well, just as Sebastian began to... dance, to soundless music, pulling a mildly alarmed Ominis along with him as he swayed haphazardly across the bedroom floor.

“And I believe here's where we do a spinny thing.” Sebastian attempted to do a spin and dip, which failed spectacularly, and the Keeper quickly caught Ominis as he lost his balance.

“Oh, you absolute buffoon.” Ominis complained as he straightened with the Keeper's help and adjusted his rumpled pyjamas primly, drawing his wand and marching over to Sebastian's side. “This is how you dance.”

Manhandling Sebastian into the proper position and setting his boyfriend's hand on his shoulder, Ominis placed the hand gripping his glowing wand on Sebastian's hip and with the other, took Sebastian's hand in his. The whole process of which seemed to startle Sebastian somewhat, and he blinked as Ominis began leading him in the most recognisable part of a waltz.

“The box step is the easiest, we just slide one foot to the side and then bring your other foot to match it in a three-beat rhythm.” Ominis explained as he tugged Sebastian to the side. “And you want to keep your feet on the floor as we go, so you don’t step on my toes.”

“One two three, one two three...” Ominis slid his foot forward as he counted, nudging Sebastian's backwards and the brunet followed his lead.

The Keeper watched in amusement, as the two boys danced in a square circle in the middle of the bedroom for several minutes, till Sebastian seemed to get the hang of it, and a rather dopey grin appeared on his face as he danced with Ominis. At least until he made the mistake of looking up, catching the Keeper's wide amused smirk, and Sebastian promptly lost his rhythm, his cheeks going red.

Covering it up with a cough, Sebastian released Ominis’ hand and declared. “I think I've got it now, your turn!”

With that, he dragged the Keeper over and shoved them at Ominis, who took the change in partners in stride, and the Keeper happily allowed him to manoeuvre them into the same position. Having seen Ominis lead Sebastian, the Keeper had an idea of what to expect and it wasn't too long before they were following him smoothly.

When the Keeper tossed Sebastian a small cocky grin, he huffed. “Not fair, you had an advantage.”

“Fair enough. Then, in that case.” The Keeper conceded and tapped Ominis on the shoulder to signal a stop. They then guided him back to the bed, where he reclined, while the Keeper went over to Sebastian and gave him a low bow. “May I have this dance?”

Sebastian stared at them in faint disbelief and with a smirk, the Keeper took his hand and pulled him close. Discerning the Keeper's intentions, Ominis smiled and began tapping a beat on his thigh as they led Sebastian to the rhythm.

“Show off.” Sebastian grumbled, his face still slightly pink.

“Pot, kettle, darling.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.

As they swayed slowly, the first dusting of fine snow began to fall on the other side of the glass balcony doors. The cold winter air went unnoticed by the happy throuple, dancing in the warm home they'd made for themselves, as the afternoon turned to evening, and the time came for the Keeper to meet their new contractor at the pub.

The lady from the photograph was visibly nervous from the moment she entered the pub, jumping at every raised voice, as she approached the bar to speak with Alasdair. The Keeper was mildly amused by how conspicuous she seemed in this environment, they wouldn't even need to know her face to identify her as a contracting guest.

Her expression was, as expected, quite surprised when Alasdair directed her towards the Keeper's table, where they sat with their usual chocolate drink, and in a few moments, she was hesitantly approaching them.

“Are you the Salamander?” The lady asked and the Keeper nodded.

“I am, and you're here to discuss the contract, yes? Please, take a seat.” The Keeper gave her a small smile, hoping to put her at ease and it seemed to work. “Tell me a little more about the job you'd like me to do.”

With a grateful nod, the lady sat across from them and gave them a strained smile. “Well, my husband, Frederick Taylor and I used to run a potions shop together. He'd brew and I'd sell the potions. He was never the most even-tempered man, but it got worse when our business started failing.”

“What happened?” The Keeper asked, though they could guess the answer, they wanted confirmation.

“The elf he inherited from his parents went missing and we couldn't afford to buy a new one to harvest supplies for our potions.” She shook her head. “We tried for two years but couldn't keep the shop open and I wanted to sell the family heirlooms to pay off our debts, so we could start afresh, he was furious at the suggestion and then he disappeared with them and what coin we had left.”

Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Then while searching for any remaining coin, I found letters between him and a mistress, going back five years. Last I heard, my friend saw him in Edinburgh with her, a younger woman.”

The last words were understandably bitter, and the Keeper mentally noted down the town, nodding as they spoke. “You said in the contract that payment would be a portion of what I steal from him.”

The lady nodded anxiously. “Yes, I know that you could always keep it all instead of splitting the proceeds, but I can assist you with stealing it, whatever you need and-”

“Madam.” The Keeper interrupted with a smirk. “Before that, I'd like to ask if you would mind him... disappearing for good, after I've retrieved your coin.”

“Disa- oh.” Her eyes widened. “What do you-”

“That's my business. Though I can tell you that he will be in a lot of suffering until the moment he dies. Would you consider that fair, in light of the injustices he's committed against you and your children?” The Keeper asked evenly.

It was tedious, but they had promised Ominis that they wouldn’t harm the innocent, and he'd made it clear that he considered their own metric, for determining innocence versus guilt, to be... not up to his standard. So, who better to judge if the punishment fit the crime than the woman who had been the target's victim and wife?

The one who knew all his flaws and sins, and had been hurt by them.

There was a long moment of silence, a thoughtful frown on her face as she deliberated, before she met their eyes with a resolute gaze. “Do whatever you want with him.”

Well, that was that, the Keeper nodded, before asking after a moment's thought. “How was his relationship with your children?”

“Distant, for the most part, but he never raised a hand against our sons at least.” Her tone made it plain that he'd held no such honour with her.

“Do you think he would go to their aid if he saw one of them in what appears to be danger?” They asked and her expression was wary as she answered.

“Yes, I think he would...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“Then if you don't mind, I'd like several strands of hair from one of your children.” The Keeper requested and the lady's eyes widened with understanding.

“Oh! Yes, I can do that!” She nodded with a relieved smile. “Do you want me to take the polyj-”

“It's quite alright, I have an assistant who can handle that role.” The Keeper waved her off casually, they didn't need a civilian to worry about in the middle of a mission. “The man himself and my share of the proceeds from selling the heirlooms will be acceptable as payment.”

“So, you'll take the job? Thank you!” The lady clasped her hands together with a smile.

“No thanks needed, I have my own interests that I'm serving.” The Keeper shook their head and strangely enough, her blue eyes became sad, and they had a feeling that there was more she wanted to say but was uncertain if it would be welcome, so they asked. “What is it?”

“I just- my oldest looks around your age.” She murmured tentatively.

Okay, weird thing to comment, the Keeper raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged. “Pick the younger kid then. People naturally panic more, the younger a child is when in danger.”

Her expression looked somewhere between alarmed and shocked, for reasons they couldn't be arsed to discern, and they instead asked. “If that is all, shall we sign then?”

“I- I suppose-” She stammered.

With that, the Keeper stood with their drink and, leaving the oddly stunned lady to scramble after them, the Keeper made their way to the bar. Somehow, interacting with her was rather tiring, and it would probably be for her benefit if she left the pub sooner than later anyway.

The signing took a tad longer than usual, since Alasdair gave the lady twice the amount of painkiller, making her writing a little slow and wobbly, but it wasn't too long before the Keeper alone at the bar.

“The target is a civilian, if I'm not mistaken?” The bartender asked casually and at their nod, asked. “Any leads?”

The Keeper hesitated a moment, but for now, while they were learning the ropes, it might be good to seek guidance from the guildmaster, so they answered. “Edinburgh.”

A good thing too, because Alasdair hummed thoughtfully. “That so?”

“That's Rogue territory.” Pausing to pull out a paper from behind the counter, the bartender scribbled something on it, before handing them the sheet with an address and directions on it. “Drop by the guild and give the guildmaster a heads-up about your plans, wouldn't want to give them problems.”

“Noted.” The Keeper nodded, tucking away the paper. “Should I wear my mask?”

Alasdair shrugged. “Up to you, but it would make things a tad easier, I should say. Guildmaster Gilfred worked as my second for a while, moved back up north a couple years ago to take over the family business.”

“Anything else I should know?” The Keeper asked before finishing their drink.

“...well...” The bartender trailed off before shaking his head with a wry smile. “You know what, you'll find out.”

They cocked an eyebrow at Alasdair as they slid the empty glass over to him and stood to leave. Well, they supposed they would. It'd be interesting to see how other guilds looked anyway.

Stepping inside their study on the second basement floor, the Keeper opened their satchel and retrieved the pouch that Borgok had given them. The room was still rather sparse, containing only a desk, a single chair and a cabinet that they'd moved their jars of Pain and Fear into.

Both the cabinets’ doors, and that of their study, required Ancient Magic to unlock, as did the doors to the Repository Chamber.

Though, hopefully such measures wouldn't be necessary to begin with, since the door to the basement facility not only had the same security as their bedroom door but was also hidden in the stone wall behind the portrait of Charles Rookwood. So that the magic of the artwork would mask that of the secret door, should someone cast a Revelio charm.

There were still more doors for cells and unused rooms, not to mention, much furnishing to add, but the Keeper was quite happy that they could already live and work comfortably in the castle.

Opening the pouch, the Keeper took its contents out one at a time, to examine and then lay them on the desk, starting with the collars. The craftsmanship of the three collars was quite something, even though they were smaller than the one that they'd retrieved from the dragon's neck, which sat now in their cabinet.

They found, on the inside of the collars, a thin needle. For injecting energies? The needle seemed like it could be retracted too, from its telescopic design. Well, they'd find out how it worked, and the Keeper set the collars aside, looking forward to testing them when they had time.

The highly anticipated armlet was next, and the Keeper eagerly tried it on. The narrow band sat comfortably around their bicep and was surprisingly light, despite how solid it looked and felt. They would probably wear it under their clothing so that it couldn't be seen, and they were pleased to find that its inside was lined with some soft material, so that it didn't shift or chafe.

Excited to test it out, the Keeper removed the armlet, pulled out their jar of C-Pain, and drew the energy from its container with their wand, before lowering it to the band. Fascinated when the lava-like substance melted into the metal, turning the silver to red and black, the rolling magma crawling along the swirls and patterns that were carved into the armlet.

Fastening it to their upper arm once again, the Keeper felt immediately the difference, the band was now warm and they could feel the energy waiting, resting in it. It felt like standing in fog, moisture licking at one's skin, and the Keeper wondered for a moment how they might intake the energy. If it felt like fog, then perhaps...

Closing their eyes, they focused on the cloud of warmth and thought of how it felt to breathe when standing in fog, the feeling of pulling the air, heavy with moisture, into their lungs. As they did so, they felt the energy flow into their body like warm mist, it was so smooth, so fluid, so powerful, so delicious, so easy to take just a little more-

We'll be holding you to your word.

The Keeper's eyes snapped open, and they hurriedly ripped off the armlet, sending it flying across the room and gasping for breath, the memory of Ominis’ voice breaking their trance, his trust and Sebastian's. They shook their head, gripping the side of their desk for stability, chest heaving with the effort it'd taken to resist.

What were they doing? Hadn't they promised that they wouldn't let Pain control them?

Taking a steadying breath, they squeezed their eyes tightly shut, collecting themselves for a few more moments, before opening their eyes and raising their gaze back to the glowing red band of silver, where it lay innocuously on the floor.

Well, it looked like the armlet, while convenient, brought temptation to a whole new level. How could they possibly walk around with that power right there and not partake of it? When it was within reach. When consuming more was as easy as breathing.

They would have to practise, and they couldn't do it alone.

Leaving the armlet where it lay and setting the matter aside for now, the Keeper next removed the blade from the pouch and then from its sheath, eyes wide as they took in the magnificent weapon.

It was incredibly light and almost wavy in its shape, a relatively narrow dirk blade with a tapered tip, and it was breathtakingly beautiful, polished silver so smooth that they could see their own reflection on its surface. Only broken up along the spine, by the intricate etchings that resembled the swirls carved into the armlet.

Taking a jar from the cabinet, the Keeper extracted the Fear-Pill with their wand and then paused. The pill was a solid, unlike Pain energy in whatever form it took, how would this work?

Shaking their head, the Keeper decided to try anyway, it was magic, who the fuck knew how any of this really worked. So, they lowered the black orb onto the dagger's surface and was awed when it melted into the metal, and the silver surface turned entirely pitch black, as though it'd been dipped in paint.

The Keeper wore a sharp grin as they examined the blade, admiring its new appearance with wonder.

It was incredible, the once silver surface now absorbed every speck of light, so black that it almost looked like a flat drawing, devoid of any reflections or any indication of depth. It was tempting to touch the blade's surface, but the risk that their lack of understanding presented was too high.

They still hadn't figured out how the collars and blade injected energies in a harmful way after all. They'd have to thoroughly test the blade, to see its effects and how long the Fear lasted too. The first small Fear-Pill they'd given Selwyn had kept him in his nightmares for three days and even after it wore off, and he returned to his senses, he'd been... different.

Quiet, jumpy, he barely ate and had lost some weight, a haunted look in his glazed eyes. They supposed that the Chinese water torture and Fear-Pill had been enough to break the boy's mind. Macnair was in even worse condition, since he'd lost his emotions, they'd needed to employ the Imperius curse to force him to eat and eliminate, otherwise he'd simply lie on his bed unmoving, wasting away.

On the upside, at least they didn't need to spend much on feeding the two, but at the same time, that made it difficult to conduct experiments when they didn't react properly. Even the amount of P-Pain they'd been extracting from Selwyn had been diminishing over time. He was becoming desensitised to pain, and so he yielded less energy with each torture session.

They were overdue for a fresh face to add to their number, the Keeper grinned as they sheathed and set aside the blade, especially now that they had what they needed to resume their experiments with the energies. Happily extracting the cauldron made of goblin silver, they set it down on the desk.

A quick examination of the cauldron's lid revealed two latches on the side and the Keeper unhooked them, lifting the silver cover to peer into the smooth empty bowl, excellent. Now they could finally find out what Pain and Fear could create.

As they removed the box containing their Phantom’s mask, a knock on the door caught their attention, and the Keeper lifted their head as Ominis’ voice came from the other side. “Love? Are you in here?”

“Yes, come in.” The Keeper replied, setting the box down and flicking a pulse of Ancient Magic at the door. With a click, it opened to permit the two boys on the other side.

“It's been fifteen minutes since tea, darling.” Ominis entered with a wry smile, followed by Sebastian, who was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, as well as a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm.

“Has it?” The Keeper blinked in surprise, they must have been occupied with the armlet for longer than they'd thought. “My apologies, I must have lost track of time.”

“What've you got there?” Sebastian asked curiously as he set the tray down on the table.

“I was just checking out the stuff I got from Borgok.” The Keeper explained, accepting with a smile when Ominis offered them a steaming cup of tea. “Thanks.”

“Oh oh, can I see the dagger?” Sebastian asked excitedly, and the Keeper could practically see a tail wagging behind him.

With an amused smile, they handed him the sheathed blade. “Careful, I've already added Fear to it.”

As Sebastian eagerly examined the blade, Ominis took a seat on the corner of the table and the Keeper's first thought, was that his elegant perch, long slender legs hanging off the side, was a fantastic height for a blowjob. Their second thought was ‘ouch’, as Ominis bopped them on the head with his glowing wand and crossed his legs.

“My face is up here, love.” Ominis sighed. “I swear you're getting as bad as Sebastian.”

“Don't pretend you don't like it.” The Keeper chuckled as they took a sip from their tea, and Ominis lifted his chin with a huff, but didn't deny that he did like feeling desirable.

“This is incredible...” Sebastian murmured.

The Keeper glanced at him, only to exclaim in alarm. “Don't touch it! I already said I've added Fear to it!”

“It's fine, it doesn't seem like contact with the flat of the blade injects it.” Sebastian waved a hand dismissively and, setting down their teacup, they stormed over to snatch it from him.

“Glad to know, but I'd much rather slap Selwyn with the flat side to find out, than to risk you passing out with nightmares!” The Keeper huffed as they sheathed the blade and stuffed it into their satchel before he could do anything else with it.

Sebastian pouted for a few moments, before spotting the box on the table and curiously picked it up. “What's this?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Sebastian...” Ominis sighed.

“It's just a box.” Sebastian protested.

“I don't care what it is, please put it down.” Ominis snapped.

“Fine.” The brunet grumbled but obediently passed it to the Keeper when they held their hand out for it.

“It's my mask, for work.” They explained, opening and removing the mask from the box. “Apparently it's our uniform and to protect our identities.”

“Have you tried it on yet?” Ominis asked.

“Not yet.” The Keeper shook their head.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sebastian grinned.

“I'm not exactly sure how to wear it.” They admitted with a sheepish smile. “There's no string on the back.”

“Might have a sticking charm, try placing it on your face.” Ominis suggested.

Following his suggestion, the Keeper raised it to their face and was surprised when it did indeed remain in place after they let go. “That's pretty handy.”

“Huh.” Sebastian squinted at them. “Remarkable, even though it's only covering half your face, you somehow look unfamiliar. Your jaw looks different, and even your hair is oddly difficult to focus on.”

“Is that so...” The Keeper murmured, that was handy indeed, and it was rather comfortable too.

Ominis expression was mildly disturbed as he added. “That's not all, you sound off too.”

“Really?” The Keeper blinked, that was quite a thorough disguise, and they quickly removed the mask when Ominis shuddered at their voice. “Well, it's nice to know that this will be enough to conceal my identity when working.”

“May I see?” Ominis asked curiously and the Keeper passed him the mask so that he could feel its surface. “Oh, this is quite beautiful. It suits you.”

“You flatter me, darling.” The Keeper chuckled, accepting the mask from him and tucked it away.

“And this would most certainly flatten me.” Sebastian joked, peering into the large cauldron like the Keeper had minutes ago, before fiddling with the latches. “This has to be the largest cauldron I've ever seen!”

He eyed the enormous pot speculatively for a moment.

“Here, hold this for me.” Passing the Keeper his newspaper, Sebastian braced himself to lift the cauldron, before pausing in surprise. “Huh, lighter than I expected.”

“I wanted something big enough to mix a large batch if necessary.” The Keeper explained, raising the newspaper. “What's up with the paper anyway?”

“Oh, right.” Sebastian set down the cauldron and leaned against its rim. “Page three, looks like the Aurors finally made their move.”

The Keeper flipped to the third page, finding the article, titled ‘Auror Raid Finds Dozens Of Dead Goblins’.

The article described the discovery of almost a hundred goblins dead, in what the Keeper recognised as Gnarlak’s base, and though it was annoyingly vague on the details, it did include a short interview with a junior Auror. Who, when asked if this was infighting within the goblin rebellion, called it unlikely, describing the causes of death to be ‘strange’ before his superior hurriedly shooed the journalist away.

“They probably died from the shock of cold turkey when their bodies burnt through their remaining E-Pain.” The Keeper murmured as they finished reading the article.

Lowering the newspaper, they noticed Ominis’ lips pursed and fingers tight around the edge of the table.

Touching their fingers gently to his knuckles, the Keeper smiled softly. “There's no danger of that happening to me, we have ample stock available, and it isn't in danger of running out.”

The unspoken ‘because I can make more’ hung in the air and Ominis sighed with a pained expression, giving them a curt nod. He was clearly still not comfortable with what the Keeper was doing, and they were uncertain if he ever would be. The reminder that he was merely tolerating their activities was both heartening and saddening in equal measure.

It felt nice, powerful, to know that he was willing to look the other way out of love, but they also knew that that came at a cost. A cost to his self-image, and that had already not been great to begin with, being a snake that wanted to be a meek lamb.

They wished desperately that he could just accept himself the way he was, to just commit himself wholeheartedly to a decision, and not beat himself up for what he wanted. He would be so much happier, but that wasn't exactly something anyone could force him to do. Sebastian had been trying since they were eleven and he still hadn't gotten anywhere.

Though, admittedly, the brunet was terrible at it, being completely unable to even see what Ominis despised about himself at all. Perhaps understandable, since Sebastian loved him so innocently and wholeheartedly, warts and all.

“What's that, off in the corner?” Ominis asked, perhaps looking to change the subject, he pointed off to the side.

Towards the armlet.

The Keeper almost wanted to laugh, but it would be quite inappropriate at the moment, so they swallowed it as Sebastian glanced over too. “Oh, is that the armlet? What's it doing on the floor?”

The Keeper sighed. “Because I almost took more than today's maintenance dose.”

Ominis frowned. “You tried it on without us?”

Wincing, the Keeper took his hand and placed it on their face, allowing him to see their expression. “I'm sorry, I thought I'd be able to control myself. It was just supposed to be a quick test to figure out how to use it.”

“Did you toss it because you lost control?” Sebastian asked and the Keeper paused for a moment.

“Well... yes.” They admitted.

“Then you were fighting it, and won. I think that counts for something.” Sebastian pointed out and the Keeper gave him a grateful smile for his support. “And they have been doing pretty well despite having to drop dosage after their dragon fight.”

Ominis frowned at him for a moment, trapped between still being upset at their testing of the armlet unsupervised, and not wanting to denounce the Keeper's efforts, for obvious reasons, and they were mildly amused at the corner that Sebastian had seemingly accidentally backed Ominis into.

“I suppose you're right.” Ominis eventually sighed, turning back towards the Keeper. “I'm glad you managed to stop this time. I just wish you could... completely stop.”

“I know.” The Keeper murmured and smoothed out the frown on his forehead with a thumb, rather happy to have their efforts recognised, it wasn't easy to take a gradually decreasing dose of Pain energy every day. “But if we keep thinking of what we can't change, we can't do anything about what we can change.”

“Does anything even need to change?” Sebastian asked, folding his arms. “I mean, let's not pretend that my dagger was the only thing that brought them home. Without Pain energy, they wouldn't have gotten far enough to even use it.”

The Keeper eyed him curiously, while Ominis narrowed his eyes and declared. “That may be true, but they still shouldn't be over-reliant on that stuff. The sooner they can stop, the better.”

“Why?” Sebastian challenged. “As far as we've seen, aside from withdrawal, there haven't been any negative side effects.”

“That's-” Ominis bristled, his hand leaving the Keeper's face to gesture wildly, exclaiming in disbelief. “We've already heard of Isidora going mad and Ranrok turning into a monster and almost a hundred goblins dying from it! Are you really so reckless as to risk any of those happening to them!?”

Sebastian's eyes narrowed at the implication that he didn't care about danger to the Keeper’s life.

“Yeah, sure! They've been using it for two years without problems. I'd take an unknown percentage chance of either happening over having a stick of charcoal to bury!” Sebastian retaliated and Ominis recoiled in indignation.

“So you're fine with them taking something so inherently dangerous forever!?” Ominis’ voice was now pitched high in distressed incredulity.

“We don't even know if it is dangerous for them!” Sebastian groaned in frustration. “Isidora was already insane to begin with, who in their right mind would think losing all emotion and sense of self is a cure!? Maybe their Ancient Magic makes them immune to becoming a monster. And the goblins died from cold turkey withdrawal, but we have the means to create more so that's not a concern.”

“Means to make more.” Ominis echoed bitterly. “How lightly you speak of torture.”

Seeing that none of his words were getting through to Ominis, and perhaps hurt by being painted so negatively by someone he loved, Sebastian growled, low and angry. “Why don't you just say it? You think I don't care! You think I'm a heartless monster!”

“What else am I supposed to think!?” Ominis exclaimed, and at that confirmation, redness began darkening the skin around Sebastian's eyes.

Oh boy, the Keeper sighed, they needed to get their partners back on track, both of them were going completely off the rails.

Raising their hands and voice before things could get worse, the Keeper interjected. “Look, boys. Quarrelling over this achieves nothing!”

The two paused and the Keeper barrelled on before the boys could start shooting again. “The facts are these, I need the Pain energy, at least for now, if I want to achieve our goals. And I'm doing my best to be cautious. I'm thinking of wearing the armlet outside of battle to see if I can train up my resistance and self-control.”

“Or, you can just stick to the jars that have worked so far.” Ominis countered.

“Oh, great!” Sebastian barked a disdainful laugh. “Let's never improve our methodology. Let's keep giving enemies more openings to kill our partner. And all to avoid a potentially dangerous outcome that hasn't even been proven to exist!”

“Sebastian.” The Keeper held a hand up to hush him before Ominis could explode, and the brunet obediently folded his arms with a sulky expression.

Taking Ominis’ balled up fists and coaxing them to relax, the Keeper spoke as soothingly as possible. “Love, we haven't even tried yet, we don't have any information to be afraid over. I made a mistake, I should have tried the armlet with you and Sebastian, but even then, I managed to catch and stop myself. Cast diagnosa on me, and you can see for yourself that I'm alright.”

“Their eyes weren't even red when we came in.” Sebastian added with a pointed huff.

Ominis threw a glare in his general direction, casting the diagnostic charm on the Keeper with an irritated flick of his wand. He frowned for a moment, before giving them a grudging sigh. Well, that's encouraging.

The Keeper placed a gentle peck on Ominis’ lips, before continuing with a smile. “Let's just try, slowly. I'll put a tiny sliver into the armlet. Wear it around the house and to bed tonight. Just a small amount that won't go over tomorrow's maintenance dose, even if I accidentally take some. And you can be right by my side and monitor my condition the whole time. Alright?”

His expression was still sour, but Ominis gave them a curt nod and the Keeper bit back their own sigh, knowing from the look in his eyes that this discussion was far from over.

Chapter Text

“Darlng.” Ominis murmured around his toothbrush, as the sound of brushing beside him slowed and gradually ground to a halt.

When he got no response, he reached across to prod the Keeper in the side with his wand and they jumped, telling him that they had indeed gotten distracted in the middle of brushing their teeth.

“Mm? O’ righ.” Came the muffled reply and the sound of their brushing resumed.

Honestly, not encouraging. The Keeper had been wearing the armlet since tea and they'd been markedly absent-minded since then.

Trailing off mid-sentence, drifting off while Ominis was talking and missing his words. Which was rather frustrating, truth be told, he'd gotten used to how attentive they always were with him, but at least they hadn't slipped up and accidentally taken some of the Pain energy.

According to them, at least.

“Hey, have either of you seen the newspaper? I wanted to finish the word search before bed.” Sebastian asked, poking his head into the bathroom.

Almost reflexively, Ominis felt the answer, that he hadn't seen it, surface in his mind. However, instead of saying it, he simply spat in the sink and began to rinse his mouth, because he was not speaking to Sebastian and hadn't since their fight in the afternoon.

Does anything even need to change? His boyfriend's words echoed in his head, and Ominis took a deep breath as he dried his hands and face.

How could Sebastian even say that? This whole Pain energy thing was supposed to be a means to an end, when they did what they needed to, the Keeper would stop taking such a dangerous thing. Going through withdrawal alone had been awful for them, surely that was enough indication of its dangers?

With all the experiments, and the ever-increasing amount of Pain energy the Keeper had to take to stay withdrawal, every day where nothing went wrong was a miracle. They just needed to keep winning the coin toss, survive taking it till Dìon castle had been brought to life and Anne was cured, and until then, they shouldn't rock the boat.

Was that not the plan? Why was Sebastian talking like the Keeper was going to be taking that poison even after they'd achieved those goals? When had he decided that the Keeper taking Pain energy forever was worth the risk? To what? Be powerful enough to kill dragons? How long did those two intend for all this to go on?

Ominis wasn't sure he could handle being under that stress for the rest of their lives together.

Even if Sebastian was right and the Keeper was immune to becoming a monster because of their Ancient Magic, as the only Ancient Mage, they could not possibly prove such a thing until they hit a problem. And that problem could easily be death.

Not to mention, if something unexpected happened and they needed to hide or lie low, and couldn't get more Pain energy, they'd be at risk of dying.

What would they do if that happened!? Ominis’ jaw tightened, no, he knew what they'd do, Sebastian would ask Ominis to cast the bloody Cruciatus curse on him, again, just to give the Keeper his Pain. Nausea churned in his stomach, sick and sour with guilt and shame.

The sound of his partners talking hummed in the background as Ominis followed them to bed, climbing onto the right side and lying down on his back tiredly, their words like senseless noise in his ears. How could they be so cavalier? As though neither were worried about the dangers and terrifying quantity of unknowns in this entire venture.

“Love...” Ominis felt a gentle touch against his face and the Keeper's voice, warm in his ear. “Thinking when tired doesn't get anyone anywhere. Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk more, alright?”

The endless optimism of his partners really was unbearable. Wordlessly, Ominis turned onto his side. He highly doubted that some sleep would magically fix this.

The Keeper sighed as they gazed at his curled up back, before taking a glance over at Sebastian on the other side of them as he laid down, refusing to so much as look in Ominis’ direction. They had no idea how to fix this.

They sort of agreed with Sebastian on the actual issue at hand, there hadn't been evidence so far that taking Pain energy was any worse on the body than coffee, which was also addictive but not harmful unless some idiot overdosed.

Though their confidence was more because the Keeper felt both that the short-term benefits were worth a potential cost and knew that they could weather any ailment in their lovers’ names, rather than the speculative optimism that Sebastian bore.

It was a problem that Sebastian had, being too optimistic, to the point of wishful thinking. What with how convinced he had been that the relic was the answer when there was no discernible link between Inferi and Anne's curse. It's not resolve if you delude yourself into believing that nothing would go wrong and thus never prepare for things to go wrong.

The similarity between him and the Keeper themselves, was that they simply preferred to suffer the consequences of trying their best, over letting fear halt their steps and to go to bed wishing that they had done more. To be resigned and consigned to whatever fate had in store for them, like Ominis often was.

However, they also understood that Ominis simply wasn't as resolved to accept the consequences of his or their actions. That he could not bear the thought of either of his partners coming to any harm, regardless of how worthy the cause, and that came too from a place of love. If a bit short sighted.

That Ominis was, as ever, mired in doubt. A fear that he didn't truly know his partners. A fear that burned Sebastian, the straightforward boy, hurt that someone he loved so deeply would doubt said love, after everything he'd done to prove it. For while Sebastian had few scruples, he carried a naivety that, ironically, the Keeper thought might have come from Ominis.

After all, what greater proof that a good person could use the Unforgivables, than Ominis himself? What greater evidence that exceptions existed, when an heir of Slytherin was the least purist person he knew? A blind boy, yet sensitive enough to see what few others could. If the Keeper had grown up beside a walking miracle, they might have believed in miracles too.

They knew that Sebastian would readily throw his very life away for Ominis and themselves. Though getting Ominis to see that as the selfless love it was in Sebastian's mind, rather than as the selfishness it instead was in Ominis’, was a feat that the Keeper had no clue how to accomplish.

Lying down with a tired sigh, they really hoped that this would be resolved soon, being sandwiched between the two stubborn boys in the middle of a tiff really was the worst place to be. If it were anyone else, the Keeper would have hit them both on the head and left the boys to sort it out themselves a long time ago.

All this really wasn't helping them resist taking a whiff of Pain energy either. The warm fog had been following them around as they finished preparing the third cell in anticipation of their next subject, and they'd taken the opportunity to explain the collars and their theory about the two ways one could consume Pain energy to Ominis, while he did a routine check on Macnair and Selwyn.

Though it had taken a lot of effort to do so when they kept getting distracted, by the enticing warmth of the armlet, especially with how cold the boys were being. Closing their eyes, they let the exhaustion of the day, of resisting their addiction, carry them into sleep. Hopefully they wouldn't accidentally take some while unconscious...

As the Keeper's breathing evened out beside him, Sebastian fought the urge to turn around and snuggle up to them, his eyes burning, ashamed that he couldn’t quite bring himself to apologise for losing his head earlier. He did understand that Ominis was just scared, but he was scared too goddammit.

Did being afraid give Ominis leave to hurt him this way every time he got scared? Did Ominis think it was fine to hurt Sebastian or the Keeper emotionally whenever he got anxious? The possibility was terrifying, and he didn't want to believe it could be true.

Yet, even when Sebastian had done everything he could think of to assuage Ominis’ fears, nothing had worked. If Ominis wasn't willing to meet them in the middle, couldn't even talk about things rationally, how were they supposed to get anywhere?

They didn't have ten years for Ominis to slowly overcome his fear of the Pain energy, the Keeper needed it now, to survive the trials and dangers that lay ahead. If they couldn't hide it from Ominis, and they couldn't tell him about it, what the fuck were they supposed to do!? This was a matter of life and death, why couldn't Ominis just-

Sebastian couldn't help but remember that day in the Scriptorium, when Ominis had literally refused to take an action that would save their lives. It'd been almost THREE YEARS since then, and Ominis still hadn't made a single step of headway in this area. It almost felt like Ominis didn't see anything wrong with this to begin with.

Sebastian was trying to be understanding, but he just couldn't get how Ominis could be so paralysed by fear, that he would choose death.

Just let us protect you! Sebastian wanted to grab Ominis by the shoulders and scream. We all want the same thing, to protect our shared happiness, why are we fighting like this? Why was Ominis treating him like he didn't care about his lovers? Sebastian wouldn't be trying if he didn't care. Hell, it'd be easier if he didn't care!

After all this time, it hurt that Ominis still didn't trust him.

Sniffing and scrubbing at the moisture in his eyes with his hands, Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shove the feelings aside with his Occlumency meditation.

The Occlumency that Ominis had taught him.

Ugh, fuck it. Sebastian gave in and turned around to cling to the Keeper, pressing his face into their shoulder and taking a deep breath of their comforting scent.

Almost immediately, he felt the stress ease and his body relax. The Keeper was right here, warm and safe, and on the other side, bathed in the moon's cool glow, was Ominis, and even if he was still upset, it was assuring to know that he was here and safe too. Yeah, definitely worth it, a relieved smile formed on Sebastian's face and his tears finally ceased.

He always woke up wrapped around one of his partners anyway, he could just pretend it happened in his sleep.

On the other side of the Keeper, this whole time, Ominis’ eyes were wide open, and he lay there frozen with shock, was Sebastian crying?

He listened carefully, yeah, no doubt about it, but... why? For all his emotional tendencies, Sebastian had only ever cried during or after nightmares and that one time he had a breakdown in the Feldcroft cottage.

Was it what Ominis said? It was hard to believe that Sebastian would care enough about his words to cry, when he didn't care enough about Ominis’ feelings to stop his reckless behaviour.

Ominis had spoken truthfully, but pointing out how selfish and reckless Sebastian and the Keeper were being... perhaps he should have done that more carefully. Did Sebastian not even realise what he was doing?

The continued sniffles ate away at Ominis, he'd done that, he'd made Sebastian cry... and the guilt only worsened when he realised that it didn't just feel awful, it also felt good. To hear the effect he had on Sebastian, to feel the power he had over the proud and stubborn boy's heart, to feel some sort of control.

Bile rose in the back of Ominis’ throat, no no no no- he shook the thought away, recoiling from it in horror. That was the darkness speaking, the evil his parents were steeped in, that they'd implanted in him. He couldn’t let the poison in his veins taint the people he loved. Controlling other people with force and hurting them, that was not acceptable.

No matter how selfish they were being, no matter how much he wanted that to change, no matter how stressed Ominis was, he knew that Sebastian and the Keeper were not evil. Neither of them, no matter how frustrated he was with them, deserved to be hurt, the way Ominis had been by his family.

Nobody deserved that, period. Least of all the two people he loved so dearly that he was beset with such fear to begin with.

What am I doing? Ominis asked himself ruefully. I'm not even succeeding in stopping them, I'm just hurting them. But if I don't try to stop them, I might as well sign their death warrants. But what else could I possibly do? Leave? Threaten to break up?

That would probably hurt everybody involved, himself being the only one he would be sure to devastate, but if it got them to stop, at least it wouldn't be only hurt dealt with no progress made. Ominis bit back his own sob as he felt the bed bounce ever so slightly, listening to the now familiar sound of Sebastian turning on the bed, before his sobs and sniffles turned into snores.

I can't, Ominis wailed in his heart, mourning his own cowardice and selfishness, I can't give this up. The very thought of not having the Keeper or Sebastian as his, was nauseating. It was the catacombs all over again, how could he stand by and let this happen again?

A good friend, a good lover, would love Sebastian and the Keeper enough to sacrifice his bond with them, if it would save their lives. What a horrible person he was, Ominis lamented, then and now, he was still too selfish to do the right thing, to be a good person. He'd told the Keeper in the tomb that he might be willing to sacrifice his friendship with Sebastian, but he hadn't been.

What right had he, to be enraged at their selfishness, when Ominis himself was so hopelessly self-serving too?

We're all sinners here. It was so difficult to fight the temptation to throw all conscience to the wind. To give in to the urge to just force the Keeper and Sebastian to do what he wanted, whatever that entailed, and Ominis was tired, so tired of resisting his vile instincts.

He wanted to wake the Keeper, beg them to do it again, help him stop thinking, stop feeling, manipulate his mind into silence once more, but a part of him knew that this was too much for them to suppress. Their words had worked when they first started dating, when he had been more concerned about what they were doing with Pain energy, than what it was doing to them.

When he'd still seen them as impossibly invincible, an unbelievable creature that had powers beyond imagination, had power over both him and Sebastian. When he hadn't yet come close to losing them or seen how human and vulnerable they really were. How they too, could be wrong.

Loving them, accepting them, flaws, failures and all, had cost him the ability to uncritically leave everything up to them, to surrender reality into their hands. The irony that the more he loved them, the more terrifying the thought of losing them and the harder to trust them when they tried to soothe that fear with assurances that they couldn't guarantee. Promises they couldn't keep.

He wanted- no, needed them, the Keeper and Sebastian. Wanted to hold them both close, protected, safe.

Compelled by his need and unable to resist, Ominis turned as well and wrapped himself around the Keeper, stretching his hand across their chest to find Sebastian's and entwine their fingers together. His heart aching in his chest when he felt traces of wetness on his boyfriend's fingertips.

I'm sorry, Seb... I just don't know what to do... Ominis thought mournfully to himself as he closed his eyes.

“I've decided to open the Repository. Its power cannot lie dormant for centuries more.”

Thank you, Fig... I wouldn’t have this without you.

“After everything you've seen? What about Isidora's fate?”

Isidora's fate? A fool chasing a hopeless dream, she and I are not the same.

“Isidora wasted her ability trying to save people from themselves. I will not let others dictate what I do with this- my power.”

I have been robbed of so much. A family, a home, my dignity, my agency, Lodgok, the first friend who understood what it was like to be crushed under heel.

I will not surrender anything to anyone else ever again. Please, understand.

“You cannot possibly mean that. You, of all wizardkind, are wholly aware of the misery and pain that that could cause!”

Fig... I'm sorry, but I can't give this up. Can't you feel it? That power, I need it, I need power. I’ve finally found something worth protecting. Worth my life. Worth every life. I can't lose them. I won't let anyone take what is mine ever again.

Not even you.

“I answer to no one. Avada-"

The Keeper gasped, their eyes flying open, heart pounding a mile a minute, feeling somehow restrained, and for a moment, they tensed in fear. Before noticing the faint snores by their ear and they remembered that they were in Dìon, sleeping in their new bedroom with Sebastian and Ominis... who had been fighting.

They cast their gaze over themselves and smiled, and yet, both boys were not only cuddled up to them, but also holding hands loosely across their chest. The soft rays of dawn lay gentle on the two, their faces peaceful and the Keeper was rather relieved to see that their partners, at least, were getting a restful sleep.

They released a slow breath, it'd been a long time since they'd dreamt of Fig, let alone a nightmare of killing him. The Keeper honestly wasn't sure why they'd had such a dream, was it what Ominis had implied the evening before? That Sebastian, and by extension themselves, were monstrous for wanting to continue using that energy. An energy created by human pain.

But would they have? If Fig had survived, if he'd decided that he needed to stop them, would the Keeper have fought him? Killed him?

They'd like to think they wouldn't have, that they would have found another way, but they weren't sure that was true. Perhaps the reason they weren't as offended by Ominis’ framing, unlike Sebastian, was because they felt it was warranted. They were no saint, they'd stolen, killed, sinned, anything to survive, to win.

Demonspawn. Sinful whore. Devil.

God, if he existed, had only hellfire for the Keeper's kind, and they'd come to terms with that a long time ago. Spat their defiance on Matron's precious cross, they hadn't been able to walk for a week after that, but they'd do it again. Forgiveness? How was it their fault that they had to suck dick to stay alive? Grace? Her God could keep his fucking grace, neither she nor He had protected them a whit.

Finding out that they weren't even human, that they were what those pathetic powerless muggles called heathen pagans, one of the witches and wizards they'd burnt at the stake, none of it had been a surprise. Of course they weren't a mere muggle, of course they hadn't fit in. They were never one of them to begin with.

Coming from a place that called all their kind demonic, made Ominis’ desperate wish to be accepted by society rather pointless in the Keeper's eyes. If in a separate group of humans, their very existence was evil, then what meaning did the term ‘evil’ even have? It was arbitrary and meaningless, a popularity contest that they refused to take part in.

They gazed at Ominis’ beautiful countenance, his cheek pressed sweetly against their arm, all curled up like a cat. Still, they couldn't find it in themselves to force him to face this, it was something he would have to come to terms with on his own, they could only protect him till then.

With a tired sigh, the Keeper considered closing their eyes and going back to sleep, when they realised that something was missing.

Frowning, they cursed under their breath, the armlet peeking out from between Ominis’ arms... wasn't glowing. Fuuuuuuck.

Ominis was going to be pissed. The Keeper sighed, well, that explained the dream at least, and the reason they felt a bit warmer than usual. Trying to get a good look at the armlet, they attempted to slip their arm out of Ominis’ grasp, but unfortunately, he didn't seem very happy about that.

“Mnm, warm...” Ominis grumbled, gripping their arm tighter and rubbing his cheek against their shoulder.

The Keeper smiled softly, cute. Well, at least until he frowned and mumbled. “Why are you so warm?”

Aaand so it begins, the Keeper sighed again, not a moment more peace to enjoy. “Well, love, it seems... that, while I was unconscious, I unintentionally took today's dose-”

Ominis shot upright immediately, though he seemed to have forgotten, or not noticed, that his hand was still attached to Sebastian's and the brunet was promptly awoken, as he was yanked halfway across the Keeper by his arm.

“Wha de-” Sebastian mumbled, blinking blankly at thin air with an adorably confused expression as his hand was dropped.

Patting the messy bush of hair on his head, the Keeper gave him a soft smile too and a kiss on the forehead. “Morning, Seb.”

He blinked at them with doe-eyes for several moments, his brain visibly struggling to catch up, before he yawned and dropped his head onto their chest with a barely audible. “...mor...in...”

Ugh, why is he so cute- the Keeper couldn't resist slipping a finger under his chin to lift it and leaned down to capture his chapped lips in a proper kiss, which he returned with a dazed moan.

“Can the two of you be serious for once?” Ominis sighed irritably as he raised his wand. “I can't cast diagnosa if you're in close contact.”

“Gimmieasec-” The Keeper gave him a mumble, pressing their lips to Sebastian's one last time before withdrawing, leaving him looking as confused as he did when he first woke up, and they nudged him upright with a bemused smile. “There, just sit still and look pretty.”

“Pfft... eashy.” Sebastian gave them a dopey grin, before yawning and stretching. “Whaz goin’ on anyway...”

“Ominis is upset that I accidentally took some Pain energy while asleep.” The Keeper answered, lying back down as Ominis cast Diagnosa on them.

“Oh.” Sebastian blinked, freezing in the middle of scratching his head. “Well, that blows.”

“I'm not upset.” Ominis snapped, and both Sebastian and the Keeper stared at him sceptically. “I'm worried.”

“Well, don't be, they kiss just fine.” Sebastian waved a hand at them with a grin. “Feel free to try for yourself.”

“Sebastian.” Ominis bit out through gritted teeth.

Not wanting to test his patience, the Keeper quickly sat up and slipped their fingers around his hand, clenched tightly around his wand. “And I'm sure you found that I'm quite alright, yes?”

“Well-” Ominis paused, pursing his lips together. “That's- that's the problem, I can't tell!”

The Keeper blinked and frowned as he shook their hand off, standing from the bed and pacing across the carpet in a fit of agitation. “Healers don't just magically know what it looks like when something is going wrong! All I see are elevated adrenaline levels, increased blood flow, heart palpitations, heightened activity in parts of your brain-”

He stopped and ran his hands through his hair, voice strained and eyes almost crazed. “And I don't know what any of it means for you!”

The pain and fear in his voice seemed to have blown the sleepy fog from Sebastian's brain and he tumbled from the bed, stumbling towards Ominis, before hesitating as though uncertain if an embrace would be well received. Which was probably reasonable, especially after Ominis rejected the Keeper's comfort.

“I'm sure we'll figure it out.” Sebastian tried, approaching Ominis like he was a wild animal. “That stuff is so powerful, if it were doing something bad, it'd be obvious even to us, and- and to them, who's experiencing it, right?”

“Merlin's balls, Sebastian.” Ominis groaned, so hard that it came out more like a sob. “They've already told us that it feels good to take! We can't trust their experience of it, do you think cancer patients realise they're dying till they're halfway there!? Do alcoholics know they're destroying their liver? And by the time it's obvious, it'll probably be irreversible!”

“Well, I've been taking it for two years already, surely that's long enough to be certain of its effects.” The Keeper reasoned, joining Sebastian in trying to soothe Ominis, who looked worryingly close to a breakdown. While he seemed to be more coherent after a good night's sleep, he was clearly no less distressed than the night before.

“We don't know how it works!” Ominis exclaimed. “Any negative effects could be something that culminates with consumption, compounding and building over prolonged use! Even if you're fine now, this constant energy use could have long-term effects!”

And there he goes again with the most extreme what-ifs, the Keeper gave him a helpless smile. “Well, that's not right now, and so that's something I'm willing to risk. To protect and preserve us, and to cure Anne. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

“How can you say that!?” Ominis shook his head.

“Because I'll do whatever it takes to protect our happiness.” The Keeper answered honestly.

At their words, Ominis bristled, his fear and stress turning to anger. How did they not understand what they were doing? Saying that they were hurting him for him. How cruel, was he supposed to feel grateful for this fear and pain?

“That's bullshite! My happiness necessitates both of you! You can only say that because you're not the one who'd be left behind!” Ominis burst out, fists tight and hot tears forming in his eyes against his will. Like aunt Noctua, it was so bloody worth it to die down in the Scriptorium, chasing the betterment of our family, at the risk of leaving me all alone in that house.

“The two of you can throw your lives away because you don't have to be the one left here alone!” Selfish, they were both so selfish, Ominis thought bitterly. Sebastian had been fine risking his life to save Anne, if he died, at least he wouldn't have to live through Anne's death, but he would leave me to mourn both of them.

“That's not-” Sebastian's voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “That's not the reason! We do what we have to because we don't want to leave you alone! How can you think that we- that I'd care so little about them, about you!?”

Ah, I'm doing it again. The sound of Sebastian crying, a few hours ago, echoed in Ominis’ mind. I'm hurting him again. Why is this coming out so wrong every time?

“...I'm sorry...” Ominis whispered. “I just don't know if I can keep doing this.”

“This?” The Keeper echoed warily.

“This! Us! All of it! I'm so scared that something will go wrong! Maybe we should just-” Ominis covered his mouth with a sob, his throat closing up around his words.

“A- are you saying you want- want to break-” Sebastian asked faintly, sounding like he couldn’t comprehend how this was even on the table.

“I don't know!” Ominis shouted, brushing tears from his eyes. “I can't help, but I can't not help. I don't want to know what you're doing, but I want to know so I can stop you, but I can't even do that! If I do nothing, I'm complicit in your demise, if I do something, I'm responsible if I fail. There's no winning anywhere in this!”

“I'm powerless.” Ominis murmured, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from within his chest. “Powerless then, powerless now. Nothing I do changes anything, I just want that feeling to stop. It would be better if I'd never been bor-”

His words were knocked right out of his mind, and his ears rang with the sharp bite of a slap. The impact reverberated through his skull, so all-encompassing and shocking that he barely felt the sting spreading across his cheek.

Then there were hands gripping his shoulders tightly and the Keeper's voice, more broken than he'd ever heard before, hissed in his ear in a harsh whisper. “Never go there. Nobody takes something that belongs to me, not even you. Without you, I'd easily make Gnarlak and Ranrok look like saints.”

The Keeper's words were heavy with dark promise and Ominis’ breathing was shallow, mind still rattled and uncomprehending as they cupped his burning cheek, the gentleness of their touch contrasting the force with which they'd slapped him.

“And you're wrong.” The Keeper continued, and he felt a strange sense of relief, of surrender at their words, he wanted to be wrong, yes, please- “You are not powerless in this relationship, you just can't see the power you have over us, because you can't compare it to how we would be without you here.”

There was a smile in their voice as the Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “I've told you before, we need someone sane in this relationship. Do you really think I could have overcome my addiction without your control and guidance? You know how greedy I am when there's something I want.”

A pair of warm arms embraced him from behind, wrapping firmly around Ominis’ waist, shaky breaths in his ear and wetness on his nape, Sebastian's chest firm against his back. “And I wouldn’t have been able to stay sane when Anne got cursed, if you weren't reminding me to eat and forcing me to sleep. If you weren't curled up next to me while I read forbidden tomes in the Undercroft. I'd have lost my mind.”

Their words sank slowly into his mind, as his breathing calmed, and Ominis couldn't help but release a soft huff. “I thought you were doing homework.”

“Well, sometimes.” Sebastian gave him a trembling laugh and without thinking, Ominis followed it with his own.

“If I cared more about my own feelings, I wouldn’t have stayed with you while the Keeper was off with Poppy last year.” Sebastian murmured after a moment's thought. “I'm not good at it, but I do try to think about how my actions affect you.”

“Even though I hurt you?” Ominis whispered, reaching up to touch Sebastian's cheek where it rested on his shoulder, damp with drying tears. “Even though I can't slow either of you down without hurting you every time. Even though I can't just be a good boyfriend and remind you to be careful and wait patiently for you to come home?”

“How dare you call our boyfriend anything less than perfect.” The Keeper prodded him in the chest. “And I don't know what you've been smoking, but what you're describing isn't easy. Not by a long shot. I wouldn’t be able to sit by and do nothing.”

“Sebastian did, he was worried too but he didn't try to stop you from taking more jobs, or try to... hurt you into stopping.” Ominis protested weakly.

“Excuse me.” Sebastian huffed. “Did you miss the second half of that? I didn't stop them, but I went with them, because doing nothing but waiting is agony. That's why I went with them to the pub, that's why I'm going with them on their next job. It's why I made the dagger for them and why I tried so hard to find a cure for Anne.”

“Doing nothing is torture for me.” Sebastian pressed a kiss to Ominis’ neck. “I'm sorry I didn't realise it was becoming torture for you too.”

“It... it didn't use to be.” Ominis admitted, a bitter chuckle emerging as he traced the shape of Sebastian's hands on his waist. “I used to feel better if I gave someone else responsibility. It doesn't work anymore. I don't know why, but I haven't been able to do that for a while, I can't escape this fear. I don't know how to handle it.”

“I'm sorry that we've made you feel alone in worrying, but you don't have to carry that alone.” The Keeper murmured, a sweet kiss of their lips against his. “We can help you find a way to manage it, together.”

Ominis felt his breath catch, tears welling in his eyes. “I- I don't, after every time I hurt you both in my fear, how can you forgive me? I don't deserv-”

“If you think anyone else could be in your position, could do any better in your position, you couldn't be more mistaken.” Sebastian interrupted. “It's enough that you know you've hurt us and don't want to, are trying not to, because we can help with that.”

“Sebastian...” Ominis turned in his arms, tracing his fingers across Sebastian's brow and cheeks to see his expression, chest tightening at the unmistakably gentle crinkle around his eyes.

“We shouldn't dwell on things we can't change, instead we can look to the future and consider ways to prevent bad things from happening again.” Sebastian pressed a kiss to his palm, and Ominis’ eyes widened at his words, the same words he'd spoken to Sebastian himself a little over a year ago, after his breakdown in Feldcroft.

“I've hurt you so many times over the years too, and you've always forgiven me and stayed by my side... and I loved you for that.” Sebastian's voice was a quiet whisper now. “Loved you since third-year.”

A small smile lifted Ominis’ lips. “And I've loved you since the end of our first-year.”

“That long?” Sebastian sounded surprised and Ominis nodded shyly.

“Well, I can't beat either of those.” The Keeper sighed, dropping their chin onto Ominis’ shoulder, now that it was free. “Between the two of you, I'm starting to feel left out.”

The familiar words got a laugh out of Sebastian, and Ominis could hear the wry smile in his voice. “A lot has changed since the first time I said that, hasn't it?”

“Really?” Ominis huffed dryly. “I feel like I'm still getting led around by you two.”

“I disagree.” The Keeper chuckled. “Have you forgotten how you kept me from killing the woman living just outside our territory?”

Ominis blinked, that's right, he'd felt it then, the hope that he had the ability to change the minds of Sebastian and the Keeper. To change their course of direction, that's why he'd tried to do it again, but it hadn't worked.

“Didn't manage to change your minds this time.” Ominis murmured bitterly, moving reluctantly when the Keeper tugged him towards the bed to sit down on its edge.

“Ominis, that's the problem, back then, we agreed on the goal and then discussed ways of getting there that satisfied all of us.” They pointed out. “This time, you jumped straight to changing our minds.”

“What else could I change, besides your minds?” Ominis asked, feeling a tad defensive at the implication that there was any option besides that. If he could think of one, he'd have suggested it by now.

“Well, we can discuss the facts of the situation and try to find something that we can change. You don't have to think of a solution alone.” Sebastian pointed out as he took a seat beside Ominis, while the Keeper remained standing.

“I want to keep taking the energy, but we have possible unknown negative effects to account for that would make it dangerous.” The Keeper hummed. “I feel like all we need to do is make the unknowns known.”

“But it's a fact that I can't know what a warning sign looks like, the point where I can tell that something is wrong would already be too late.” Ominis sighed, before pausing. Wait, too late? Would not then all he need do, be to see the effects accelerated, to see what ‘too late’ looked like?

But... that meant involving himself in the Keeper's human experiments. Worse still, finding his answers would require that they actively try to turn a subject into a monster or kill them by Pain energy overdose. Could he really do such an inhumane thing? Then again...

His mind returned to the scans he'd done on Macnair last evening. The boy's body was wasting away, frail and weak, his amygdala had completely ceased to function, and his endocrine system seemed to be damaged so severely that Ominis felt that he had no hope of recovery. Did Macnair even deserve it? He couldn’t imagine being in that condition, what suffering was the boy experiencing?

At the same time, Pain energy felt good to take, with his will empty, it would be safe to give him that energy without him trying to break out using its power, rather than injecting it painfully with the collar. Would that not be a mercy instead? To let the mindless boy experience one last taste of pleasure, ending his suffering with bliss.

“Macnair is not doing so well, what do you two plan to do with him?” Ominis asked tentatively.

Having been watching him deeply immersed in thought, the Keeper quickly caught on, quite surprised that Ominis would consider experimentation to overcome this obstacle. No, he wouldn't be able to do that, not consciously at least, they knew his mind well enough to know that. What was his angle?

Bringing up Macnair’s health... perhaps he was trying to frame his participation as charity, after all, the subjects were scum that were already in perpetual suffering, maybe he wanted to contextualise being a grim reaper as mercy. They did wonder how he would justify the pain of collar injection, but they could always help him out there.

Well, those were quite some mental gymnastics he was hoping to do, but hey, any effort from him to cooperate was welcome.

“He doesn't provide any energy thanks to his ripped aura, so I was considering attempting to stitch it up. Which would require pumping him with energy, like finding a leak in a cup by filling it.” The Keeper answered. “I don't have much other use for him, but I would keep him alive, just in case I have need of him.”

The Keeper smiled as they laid forth the bait for Ominis to take, and was satisfied when he frowned, saying. “I think it's quite cruel to keep him in a suspended state of suffering...”

The Keeper silently raised a finger to quieten Sebastian when his expression became indignant, mouthing a simple ‘wait’.

“...it would be kinder to end his suffering. I know you want to have more than one subject at a time, but you'll be acquiring a new one, yes?” Ominis asked, as though he were bargaining with the cruel cruel Keeper to entertain his benevolent petition on poor little Macnair’s behalf.

The Keeper gave him a fond smile, he was so cute, still clinging to those paper-thin illusions that only they could provide. “Yes, and I suppose since I'll be getting another shortly, Macnair’s death won't be too much of a loss, but I'd rather make use of him, even on his way out.”

They would give him what he needed.

Ominis smiled. “I was thinking that I could monitor his condition as you feed him energy, preferably C-Pain in the same manner you consume it. That way, I can compare its effects on a regular wizard to its effects on you as an Ancient Mage.”

As Ominis explained his suggestion, understanding began to dawn on Sebastian's face and his expression became slightly conflicted.

“Same manner, hm.” The Keeper frowned. “That runs the risk of making him too powerful for even myself to defeat. I would also need to find out what distinguishes a painful injection of Pain energy from regular consumption.”

“It has to be the same manner you do it. Otherwise, we can't be certain that our findings would apply to you.” Ominis insisted. “Without mind and willpower, surely he wouldn't be as much of a threat as Ranrok was, and you defeated him without the aid of Pain energy.”

He had a point, the Keeper folded their arms thoughtfully, though it was amusing to hear Ominis defending their strength when it was convenient for him, and Sebastian was staring incredulously at him for likely the same reason. Still, to what ends was he pushing so hard for this?

...it would be kinder.

He'd said ‘kinder’, not more merciful, perhaps that was it? Did Ominis think it would absolve him of being Macnair’s executioner if the boy got to die in power rather than in pain? That dying in pain was ‘cruel’? Well, the Keeper didn't see any particular difference, after everything they'd done to him, murder was murder regardless, but if it made Ominis feel better, boy did they not fucking care.

“Fair enough, I'll see if I can figure out what the difference between collar injection and consumption are, and if I can feed him C-Pain energy.” The Keeper nodded and both boys sagged in relief.

“Thank Merlin, we finally have a plan.” Sebastian groaned, flopping backwards on the bed. “I'm bloody exhausted.”

“I- well-” Ominis cleared his throat and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear sheepishly. “I suppose, I'm sorry... for- well, making this more difficult than it maybe had to be.”

“Nah.” Sebastian shook his head, reaching out to take Ominis by the arm and tug him down, while the Keeper reclined on the bed beside them.

Catching himself on his arms, Ominis blinked in surprise, hovering over Sebastian as the brunet grinned and lifted his head just enough to give Ominis a peck on the lips.

“It's good that you got it all out. I mean, I could do without getting hurt.” Sebastian chuckled when Ominis gave him an annoyed look. “But it happened how it needed to happen, we can always do better next time. I could've handled it better too. I just- you drive me crazy.”

“Do I?” Ominis murmured with a small smile, folding his arms on Sebastian's chest and resting his head on them with a peaceful expression.

“Obviously.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and propped his head up on an arm, brushing his fingers through Ominis’ messy blond strands.

There was a soft, and undeniably loving crinkle around the corners of Sebastian's eyes, as he gazed at Ominis, idly caressing his cheek for several minutes, fingers brushing across the little uneven patches of peach fuzz that were growing.

As he did, Ominis basked in the gentle soothing touches, until they stopped, and Sebastian released something between a huff and a sigh. Tipping his head curiously to the side, Ominis asked. “Sebastian?”

“Nnnngg, how long are you just going to stare at us like that!?” Sebastian suddenly burst out, his cheeks quite red, and the Keeper gave him a low chuckle.

“I'm just enjoying the view, don't mind me.” The Keeper assured with a broad and amused grin, continuing to observe the sweet scene as they lay casually on their side, head propped up on an elbow.

“Right. Ominis is the one who's blind, not me. Merlin knows what's going on in there.” Sebastian eyed them suspiciously, and at their silent, unflinching grin, gave an aggravated huff. “Fine, might as well give you something to look at then.”

Sebastian propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his lips against Ominis’, who chuckled softly as Sebastian rolled them over, so he could pin Ominis to the sheets.

“Sebas-” Ominis’ exasperated sigh was quickly smothered by Sebastian, the brunet straddling his thighs, eagerly slipping his tongue between Ominis’ lips to swallow his words.

Coaxing a quiet groan from Ominis as he ran his fingers down the blond's neck, and the Keeper would readily admit that this was indeed a much better show, and one they would most certainly never tire of watching. The brief flashes of heated muscle entwined within the spaces between their lips, the way Sebastian shuddered when Ominis’ hands travelled down to his hips, gripping firmly as he ground their waists together.

Exquisite.

Cheeks aflame, Sebastian's mouth left Ominis’ to gasp as the blond's hardening length rubbed against his, releasing a low moan at the sensation and pressing his lips to Ominis’ throat as he rocked back eagerly. Only for Ominis to make a soft sound of discomfort and crane his face away.

“Merlin's bea- your beard, Sebastian, is getting too much for this!” Ominis complained, shoving Sebastian's head a distance away with a hand. “Are you trying to sandpaper my jawline into shape?”

“Please don't, I think it's perfectly shaped as it is.” The Keeper snickered.

“Oh, come on, Ominis, it's just a bit of fuzz.” Sebastian grumbled, his words muffled around the palm pressed against his cheek.

“You call this a bit of fuzz!?” Ominis exclaimed, running his nails along the bristles on Sebastian's jaw and producing an amusingly loud scratchy sound. “I've no doubt you look like a vagabond right now.”

“The kind of handsome, roguish vagabond that will steal your heart and make off with your virginity?” Sebastian grinned and the Keeper burst into laughter at the unamused glare Ominis levelled at him.

“The kind of vagabond that is homeless and in dire need of a razor.” Ominis retorted.

“Well, I've been busy the last two mornings, and I wasn't exactly in the mood to shave last night, now was I.” Sebastian grumbled, and Ominis’ eyes immediately darkened.

The Keeper quickly interjected, before the atmosphere could sour. “Why don't you go brush and shave then? That way, you'll be able to give Ominis a blowjob if he sees fit to grant you the honour.”

Sebastian immediately brightened and he grabbed Ominis by the shoulders. “Alright, I'll clean up and then I'm finally gonna get to see what they're always raving about.”

“Wha- wait- I didn't agre-” Ominis stammered, his face completely red as Sebastian nearly flew off the bed and into the adjoining bathroom, before turning towards the Keeper with an incredulous expression. “You rave about my- my-”

The Keeper gave him an unrepentant grin. “You do have a lovely pecker, darling. Rather outstanding really, few are quite as fortunate in that regard.”

“Salazar save me.” Ominis muttered, covering his face and climbing out of the bed to follow after Sebastian. “Sebastian, I never agreed to anything!”

“Wai ‘ot?” Sebastian mumbled around his toothbrush.

“It would give him some incentive to take care of himself. Pups need something to strive for when in training.” The Keeper chuckled as they slipped around Ominis and into the bathroom to get their own toothbrush.

“Exac'ly!” Sebastian spat in the sink before pausing. “Hang on train-”

“My dick is not a carrot!” Ominis exclaimed.

“Of course not, it's closer to a lollipop.” The Keeper grinned, very much amused by this line of discussion.

Idly collecting their toothbrush, they began cleaning their teeth at the porcelain sink that stood on the left of the entrance to the large alcove bathtub, while on the right of it, stood Sebastian at the second sink, slathering his face with cream.

Ominis groaned and ran a hand over his face.

“Look, it's annoying!” Sebastian exclaimed as he quickly slid the razor over his jaw. “I have to waste ten minutes every morning or I'll start looking like my uncle. Surely, I deserve a reward when I actually do it.”

“Well, you're not the only one that has to shave. See there, I need a shave too.” Ominis gestured at the patches of fuzz on his chin and upper lip.

“Those tiny things?” Rolling his eyes, Sebastian strode over and took Ominis’ chin, rubbing some of the leftover cream into his skin with a thumb. “Alright, hold still.”

Ominis obediently stilled, and allowed Sebastian to deftly whisk off the few bristles that were present, the brunet complaining the whole way. “Come on, these are so fine and easy to shave... and you can go a whole week without shaving before they show up! See? Done.”

Sebastian wiped the remaining cream off with a towel and beamed proudly at his handiwork, before returning to the mirror and his own shaving. “Why are you so reluctant anyway? Don't you always complain about me talking too much?”

Ominis’ cheeks flushed, the sheer thought of Sebastian's mouth around him making it difficult to think through the swarm of feelings that that idea conjured. “It's just- it's hard to imagine I suppose.”

Finishing up with their morning routine, the Keeper stepped aside for Ominis to use that sink. “Don't you feel bad for Sebastian? He even helps you shave, such a good boy deserves a reward.”

Ominis sighed as he washed his face, and the Keeper handed him his toothbrush. “Fine, I suppose if you nutters want it so much.”

“Yes!” Sebastian hissed with excitement as he washed the cream and hair from his face.

Several minutes later, a rather adorably embarrassed Ominis was seated on the edge of the bed, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. While Sebastian knelt on a pillow, that the Keeper had passed him, between Ominis’ knees, lowering his sleeping pants to reveal his partially erect member.

Despite his earlier bravado, Sebastian seemed equally embarrassed as he ran his fingers lightly along the fine blond hairs that Ominis’ length was nestled in. Eyeing it with an almost resolute gaze for several moments, Sebastian leaned forward and gave his tip a firm lick, making Ominis jolt with surprise and release a soft moan, covering his face shyly a moment later.

The Keeper sighed, what was with this blushing maiden atmosphere? Somehow even after everything they'd done together, the two boys could still get all flustered like virgins. Was it because the Keeper wasn't involving themselves and just watching? Or because they weren't leading?

Now that they thought about it, every time the three of them had been together, it had been mostly propelled by the Keeper. Perhaps their partners had simply been emboldened by their unabashed attitude towards sex. With that in mind, it might be better for them to let the two boys explore at their own pace for once.

As the Keeper pondered this, Sebastian licked his lips nervously, quite encouraged by how quickly Ominis had hardened fully, before placing them tentatively against Ominis’ crown, and allowed it to slip past his lips.

At the warmth and sensation, Ominis released another shaky moan, Salazar save him, he really wasn't going to last very long. Just the idea that Sebastian, his proud Sebastian, was on his knees and taking his cock, was enough to make his head swim. His hands twitched, gripping tightly at the blanket he was sitting on, as he felt himself touch the back of Sebastian's throat.

He still remembered how good it'd felt, to thrust into the Keeper's throat, it had been almost scary, how quickly he'd lost control, but their confidence and skill had made it easy to get swept up in the heat, to forget his inhibitions. Sebastian wasn't nearly as confident or experienced as them and Ominis wasn't sure how far he could go. He didn't want to hurt Sebastian.

With a pinch of frustration, Sebastian lifted his head to take a breath, before trying again, pushing Ominis deeper into his mouth, but was once again unable to swallow enough to reach the base. He pressed on anyway, but quickly found himself gagging on it and had to lift his head again to cough. Goddammit, why was this so much more difficult than when he'd serviced the Keeper with his mouth?

“A- are you alright? Don't overdo it, Sebastian.” Ominis asked, trying desperately to hide how good it had felt when Sebastian's hot and wet throat closed around him uncontrollably, how much he wanted to shove the brunet's head back down to feel it again.

He'd never had the Keeper choke on him before, how could something so bad feel so good? The way Sebastian’s throat had rippled around him, pulsing and tightening, and Merlin- the sound. The sound of Sebastian choking, he could hear the wetness of his saliva clinging to his throat, feel it rolling down his cock to touch the sensitive skin of his balls.

“It's-” Sebastian cleared his throat, tears beading in his eyes. “It's fine, I'm alright.”

Without another word, he took Ominis into his mouth again, trying once more to take him further into his throat. The Keeper had done it, surely he could too. So, he struggled to hold his instinct to gag and pressed his head down harder, when Ominis’ hips bucked, and he promptly choked again.

“Sorry! I'm sorry!” Ominis immediately exclaimed, lifting Sebastian's head himself, and baulking at the tears he could feel against his thumbs.

However, as Ominis’ hands moved automatically to clean the fluids from Sebastian's face, he couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the expression the brunet was wearing. Sebastian looked absolutely wrecked, eyebrows slanted upwards, his mouth hanging open, lips stretched wide from his cock. As guilty as he felt, Ominis knew he'd never forget the image his hands had shown him.

“‘S fine.” Sebastian mumbled, coughing and swallowing, a little dazed by how hot that had felt, his prim and pompous Ominis ramming his cock into his mouth like that.

Sebastian was starting to see why the Keeper liked blowing Ominis. Though, the choking he could probably do without, at least for now, while he still didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

With that, he turned slightly to ask the Keeper, who had been suspiciously silent the entire time. “How do you do it?”

“Do what, love?” The Keeper asked absently in return, a tad occupied committing everything they'd just witnessed to memory, especially Sebastian's fucked out expression. So, Ominis actually liked choking, good to know.

“Well, take Ominis... all the way.” Sebastian replied with an adorable squirm of the hips, likely rubbing himself against the tent in his sleeping pants.

The Keeper chuckled fondly, ever the overachiever of course. They paused to think, well, they did have the bed, it'd certainly be far more comfortable to start with, and it wasn't like Sebastian had to worry about how vulnerable the position was, unlike they had, and it'd give Ominis more control.

“You want to straighten out your throat. Here.” The Keeper stood and helped Sebastian to his feet. “It'll be easier if you lie down on your back, with your head hanging off the edge.”

Sebastian obediently followed their instructions as the Keeper also took Ominis’ hand and guided him to stand, wrapping their arms around his waist and pressing against his back as they whispered into his ear. “And you can stand here and fuck his throat.”

“Isn't this a little dangerous? He can't move away.” Ominis asked worriedly, though his expression and the way his length twitched made it obvious how much he liked the idea.

“It's alright, I can just tap your leg if I need to breathe.” Sebastian patted Ominis’ thigh, his half-lidded eyes heated as he regarded Ominis’ erection, hanging just inches from his lips, and his tongue darted out to lap at it.

Ominis gasped at the sensation and offered no further protest as the Keeper held his length in position and used their own hips to nudge Ominis’ forward, watching in delight as his hardness slid smoothly into Sebastian's throat.

“Oh-” Ominis moaned as he buried himself in, all the way to the base. The Keeper took his twitching hands, and placed them on the bulge in Sebastian's throat, before letting go as he began, of his own accord, to trace the shape of his own erection stretching Sebastian's skin.

“Doing alright down there?” The Keeper asked, and Sebastian flashed them a thumbs up, making an affirmative sound around the obstruction in his throat and getting another moan from Ominis as a result.

Chuckling, the Keeper murmured into Ominis’ ear, lapping teasingly at the shell. “There, you can let go, love. Stop thinking and do what feels good.”

With a keening sound in his throat, Ominis tentatively moved his hips, drawing back slightly, before pushing in again, shuddering as his sensitive tip rubbed against the back of Sebastian's tongue. The hollow squelch of his cock sealing the inside of Sebastian’s throat, creating a vacuum, a space where only he could pass through, the thought of pouring his seed inside Sebastian making his mind melt.

Ominis couldn’t help but rock harder into him, panting from the heat that was building in his body, the Keeper's warm chest against his back, their hands slipping under his shirt to rub and tug at his sensitive nipples. It feels so good-

He felt a few taps against his thigh, as Sebastian's throat closed around him again, and for a moment, it failed to register in Ominis’ mind, but as the Keeper tugged his hips backwards with a firm grip, he recalled its meaning. The air felt cold on his dick, after being inside Sebastian's warmth, but he was grateful that the Keeper had helped him stop.

“T- thank-” Ominis muttered as he turned his head to the side, and the Keeper captured his lips with their own, while Sebastian coughed and gasped for breath.

Releasing Ominis’ lips, the Keeper murmured gently. “Try to keep a consistent rhythm and pull out every four thrusts to let him breathe.”

Swallowing thickly, Ominis nodded, while Sebastian gave a weak laugh, and asked. “You were counting?”

“I was.” The Keeper chuckled, taking Ominis’ length and guiding him back into Sebastian's mouth, purring into Ominis ear. “Aren't you two lucky to have me.”

Moaning softly, Ominis nodded automatically, as they gripped his hips and guided him in at a languid pace, his fingers wrapping around their wrist and spasming as he fucked Sebastian's throat at their coaxing. It was a struggle to keep counting through the haze of pleasure and it helped to have their guidance, especially when it became more difficult to stop every time Sebastian choked.

Though, he was actually rather glad for the need to keep track of his thrusts, it was probably the only reason that he hadn't come yet. The feeling of Sebastian's hot and tight throat around him was amazing, the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything but lie there and take his cock, insane.

This was the same Sebastian who never stepped back from a fight, letting Ominis use his body for his pleasure, groaning around his cock, the taut skin of his throat stretching under his palm with every thrust.

“He's touching himself.” The Keeper's voice murmured into his ear and Ominis released a confused sound, having a hard time processing their words with his lust clouded mind, and they chuckled. “Sebastian, he's touching himself as you fuck his throat, he's so hard just from this.”

The moment he understood, Ominis released a loud moan, reaching his peak immediately, and his erection throbbed in Sebastian's mouth as his seed spurted down his throat. Unable to stop himself from burying his length as deep as he could go and holding himself there for a shuddering moment. Feeling ecstasy flood his body as Sebastian choked on his cum, before remembering that he was stopping Sebastian from breathing and quickly pulled out.

“Sor- sorry, I should- should have warned you-” Ominis gasped, leaning against the Keeper as his knees went weak.

“No, no. I take full responsibility for that.” The Keeper chuckled from behind him, flicking their wand and casting a quick Anapneo charm to clear Sebastian's throat quickly.

After panting for a few seconds, Sebastian gave them a small pout from where his head still hung upside down, his voice rough and thick. “Aw, I wanted to swallow that.”

Ominis released a sound that was somewhere between a squeak of surprise and a moan, while the Keeper laughed and reached down to pat Sebastian on the cheek. “There's always next time.”

He nuzzled at their hand with a hum. “How do you just keep going without needing to stop to breathe?”

“It's possible to breathe while giving a blowjob, it takes some... practice to get the right timing. But not everyone can, so don't feel bad if you don't manage it.” Straightening and placing a kiss on Ominis’ flushed cheek, the Keeper flashed Sebastian a wide smirk. “Now, my turn.”

Seeing it from his spot on the bed, Sebastian swallowed, and his erection twitched in his grip.

“How long will he have us play the villain so he can be the saint?”

“However long he needs it.”

“Does it not hurt?”

“A tad, but I take comfort in knowing that it's an illusion and that he needs it. Are you willing to deny him an illusion so vital to his mental wellness? We all know what it is, even him, somewhere deep down. And now that you understand that he believes it for his own sanity, not because he really sees us as despicable, does it not hurt less?”

“I suppose so...”

“Chin up, my love. I'm sure it won't be forever, he just needs time, and this will keep him with us and happy till that day comes.”

“...you're right, it just- it does still hurt, and it'll take time to get used to remembering that it's an illusion for him. That he doesn't actually think we're cruel. But you're right, it's worth it. He's worth it.”

“Good, I'm glad you agree. Now go get the bottle to feed Shai.”

“Ugh, Ominis is worth getting hurt for, but I'm not sure this one is...”

Chapter Text

“If I'm reading this right, we should take that path a mile further.” Sebastian lowered the map that he'd been scrutinising and gestured towards a rather dark and dirty alley, just off to the side of the road.

Nodding, the Keeper turned their gaze from the rather beautifully designed, snow coated park in the middle of the bustling city and led Sebastian down into the alley. So far, what they'd seen of Edinburgh's Princes Street Gardens had been quite lovely, but from the looks of this alleyway, the Rogue guild was situated within the Old Town, in other words, the slums.

Unsurprising in all honesty, their line of work did best in the shadows and in the wake of suffering.

The Old Town slums themselves were... not so different from what the Keeper was used to, back in London. While the buildings were much older, taller and a bit less disorganised than the haphazardly scattered houses in their hometown, the atmosphere was remarkably nostalgic in the worst possible way.

The black sludge of sticky ash mudded snow clung to their boots and dragged at the hems of their cloak, visible even under the late afternoon light. While it was some mercy that the cloud of smoke in these slums wasn't quite as suffocating as London's, each breath still came with the burning remnants of open fires, and they could hear Sebastian coughing every so often.

Between the accompanying stench of rotting dung, flesh and water, and streets littered with the ill and the poor, the Keeper was quite glad to have placed a sticking charm on their satchel, to keep it attached to their side. They would hate to drop it into the filthy muck or have it stolen or pickpocketed.

As they walked, Sebastian seemed to become increasingly horrified by the conditions, and his steps soon halted, staring at what appeared to be the frozen corpses of four children tucked in an alcove between two buildings.

Noticing this, the Keeper backtracked to stand by him. “Sebastian?”

“Is no one going to...” Sebastian murmured, casting his incredulous gaze about the street, watching as a hazy eyed man stumbled past with a bottle in hand, not even blinking at the sight.

“Love.” The Keeper placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, drawing his gaze as they spoke. “We shouldn't linger. Not in a place like this.”

Sebastian's eyes were dark and almost haunted as he stared at them, and it was easy to guess what was on his mind.

“Don't think about that.” The Keeper shook their head. “I'm alive, I'm here.”

“...you lived like this... for fourteen years.” Sebastian's jaw was tight, and his brow furrowed.

“And I'd rather forget it.” The Keeper chuckled wryly.

“Can you?”

“I can try.” They shrugged. “Come on.”

The Keeper continued down the path but had only taken a few steps when a woman with heavy makeup, and far too little clothing for this weather, sidled up to Sebastian's side, cooing sweetly. “Left on your lonesome, handsome? I know how to take care of a young gent like you.”

Sebastian stood stiffly, as her shoulder brushed up against his, a look of consternation on his face, and the Keeper huffed irritably, vultures the lot of them, though this presented a fine opportunity.

“I-” Sebastian stepped away from her with a guilty expression.

“Am taken.” The Keeper finished for him, approaching the prostitute. “But I have a counteroffer for you. Have you seen this man ‘round these parts?”

The Keeper presented her with the photo of Frederick Taylor that their contractor had provided, having already folded the picture to hide the house elf.

The prostitute squinted at the frozen image for a thoughtful moment. “Think so, looks rather familiar. Might have seen the bloke entering that odd pub down the road a time or two.”

“The Rowdy Rogue?” The Keeper asked as they tucked the picture away.

She nodded. “Aye, tha'd be the one.”

“My thanks, here's a small token of appreciation.” Nodding, the Keeper fished a handful of muggle pennies out of their satchel, that they'd prepared for information gathering, and dropped them in her hand. That should be enough to pay for a few meals and perhaps even a coat.

Taking the money with a delighted smile, she winked. “Should you be wantin’ anythin’ else, don't be a stranger, love.”

With that, the prostitute sashayed past the Keeper, running a hand down their arm meaningfully as she left.

Snorting, they returned their attention to Sebastian, who still looked troubled. “What is it, Sebastian?”

“You-” His voice cracked. “Did you have to do that too?”

“Proposition strangers?” They asked and he gave them a discomforted nod. “Not quite, I was already...”

A bitter smile stretched across their face.

“ ...property when I started that, well, line of work.”

The look of pain on his face caught them off guard, and in the next moment, the Keeper found themselves in his firm embrace. They could feel his hands tremble, gripped tight around their shoulders, his chest warm against theirs and his breath shaky by their ear, warming their cheek and rising in a plume of white.

Was it anger? Sorrow? Fear? They wondered what he was feeling, stroked a hand over his hair soothingly, while he clutched at them as though they too would dissipate like vapour if he let go.

Several minutes passed this way, before his grip finally loosened and they touched his cheek gently. “Feeling better?”

He nodded mutely, before his gaze returned to the bodies of the children. “I know we have work to do, but can we do something for them?”

The Keeper gave him a fond, if bewildered smile, what a strange thing to say. The children were dead, what could the living possibly do for those that were no longer here?

“I don't see why not, but what have you in mind?” They asked, when they failed to think of anything.

Sebastian cast his eyes about with an uncertain frown. “...it's cold out here.”

Cold? They were dea- ah, I see. Understanding, the Keeper nodded. “Of course. I don't think we can bury them in the middle of the city, but I can spare them the indignity.”

When he nodded, they glanced about to make sure no one was watching, before taking a sip of energy from their armlet and, drawing their wand, the Keeper cast a high-powered Evanesco at the bodies of the children, vanishing them in a flash of red.

“Were that we could do more.” Sebastian murmured grimly as they holstered their wand again.

“Some problems can be alleviated by the kindness of the privileged and the common people, but such on this scale can only truly be resolved by kings. Alas, we are neither kings nor kingmakers.” The Keeper shook their head and took Sebastian's hand in theirs. “Come, it does little to carry the burdens of others, when doing so doesn't lighten it for them.”

Nodding again, Sebastian allowed them to pull him from that place, as the snow began to fall, covering the empty spaces with a fresh layer of white.

Their walk continued in subdued silence for several minutes more, before they arrived at a rather respectable looking establishment. No surprise, considering that its clientele were wizardkind, rather than the impoverished muggles that populated this part of the city.

The note Alasdair had given them listed the Rowdy Rogue's opening hours from ten in the night till six in the morning, but the Keeper was, again unsurprised, that it was open anyway, since it likely had a regular business outside guild hours. Much like how the Phantom's Flask was an inn during the day.

They'd originally intended to just scope out the place before coming back in the night, but if the target conveniently frequented the bar, they might as well ask around.

So, they pushed open the rustic door and slipped inside with Sebastian, finding said inside to be just as rustic in decor. Not unappealing, but they much preferred the Phantom's sleek design. Their chosen chair squeaked as they took a seat, and the Keeper wondered why so many of them looked new, while the rest of the furniture appeared as old as the building.

And why were the tables bolted to the floor?

“Hey.” Sebastian tugged on their sleeve. “Well, would you look at that.”

He gestured across the sparsely populated pub, to the waitress, a woman who looked incredibly familiar, frowning intently down at a notepad. None other than the woman who'd survived her stint as a guest of Dìon. The first, and likely, last.

The Keeper chuckled. “Well, I'll be damned. Who would've thought we'd meet her here, of all places.”

“And isn't that the man who found her?” Sebastian nodded at the middle-aged bartender as he poked the woman in the arm, startling her out of her focus and nudging her towards the Keeper's table encouragingly.

“Looks like.” The Keeper agreed, wondering if the bartender was guildmaster Gilfred, as the familiar waitress came to their table.

“...hi, it's um, been a while since we've had someone new here, w- what can I get you? Butterbeers or- or perhaps something to eat?” The waitress asked with a nervous smile, an earnest air about her that made her look younger than they'd ever seen, or perhaps simply more innocent.

“Butterbeers would be sufficient, we're looking for someone actually. Frederick Taylor, I have something to pass to him.” The Keeper answered. “He mentioned coming here when last we spoke, so I was hoping we'd be able to find him if we dropped by.”

“Fred? Yeah, he's a regular, comes by for dinner and drinks sometimes. If you stop by around five tomorrow, he'll probably show up.” The woman nodded absently, before scurrying back to the bar counter without another word.

She spoke with the bartender, who gave her a fond smile and said a few words, before passing her a pair of full mugs.

Returning to Sebastian and the Keeper, with their drinks, she gave them another nervous smile. “You sure I can't tempt you with something to eat? James makes the best fish and chips south of Nor Loch.”

“James?” Sebastian echoed, a wry and bemused smile on his face as he and the Keeper accepted their mugs.

“Yes, the, erm, bartender, he sort of owns this establishment.” The woman gestured vaguely towards the bartender and the Keeper hummed thoughtfully. They supposed that while Alasdair was both owner of the Phantom's Flask and guildmaster of the Phantoms, that wasn't necessarily the case elsewhere.

It might not be a bad idea to hang around a little longer, even if it was already six. Sebastian could probably use a break from the bleak setting outside the pub, and they'd already acquired a means of finding their target, they might as well ask some questions and see what they could find out.

Besides, they were admittedly a tad curious what the woman was doing with her second life.

“Why not, we can share a plate. How long have you been working here?” The Keeper asked, taking a sip from their mug. They were well aware how long she'd been here, but it felt like a reasonable question for a stranger to ask.

“Not very long.” She answered, her eyes soft and a more natural smile forming on her face, and it felt rather surreal to see such a pleasant expression on the previously sour-faced woman. “I started working for James here about a year ago, he helped me out ‘n took me in when I was at my lowest in... well, I suppose, in memory.”

The Keeper just barely managed to avoid inhaling their butterbeer, but Sebastian was less lucky and spent the next few moments coughing.

“Everything alright here, Eliza?” Came a deep voice from behind the woman, and the bartender, who the Keeper could have sworn was at the bar a moment ago, appeared, giving her a concerned smile.

“I- yes, um.” The woman, who it seemed had taken on the name Eliza, shifted awkwardly on the spot and a blush crept up her neck.

“We were just curious about the pub and my boyfriend swallowed down the wrong pipe.” The Keeper chuckled, and now Sebastian was going red too.

James gave them an amused smile. “Happens to the best of us, if you'd like some water, just let us know. As for the pub, it's been in the family for years. My younger brother, Gilfred, handles the place during the night.”

So, the guildmaster was a younger sibling, interesting. The Keeper had thought it normally the case for the eldest to inherit family trades, though they supposed the brothers could have had different interests, and their parents had respected that. It was always kind of nice to see people who had nice families, assuming that was the case.

“I think some water would be appreciated.” The Keeper nodded. “Eliza was just telling us about your renowned fish and chips, and I think we can share a plate.”

“Wonderful! I assure you that you won't regret it!” James beamed, placing a gentle hand on Eliza's shoulder and whispering in her ear. “Nice work.”

“T- thank you...” She lowered her head till he'd turned away, and watched him with an adoring smile as he returned to the bar counter, before she seemed to remember herself and returned her attention to their table. “Um, I'll go get some water.”

Eliza scurried off again and Sebastian let out a sigh, drawing a curious glance from the Keeper. “Alright there, love?”

“Yes, it just- it feels rather silly. She's got a second chance, and she isn't just going for it.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Life's too short to be dancing around when he seems to like her too.”

“Says the one who pined after Ominis for three whole years.” The Keeper snorted and his face went red again. “Besides, she was a recluse, raised alone in the woods. Even after her memory got wiped, I doubt it'd magically make her good with people.”

“Well, Ominis is different-” Sebastian paused as Eliza returned with a cup of water for him as well as a plate of freshly fried fish and potato strips, before continuing when she'd left. “I mean, I didn't want to push, he was really awkward at first. Like her I guess... and he did say he fell in love earlier than me.”

Sebastian's expression became thoughtful, and he took a drink of water to flush his throat before continuing. “I wonder why he didn't turn out all surly like she did. It's not like his family was good. In contrast Eliza seems to have loved her father a lot, so I doubt he was a shit dad.”

“There's probably more than just nurture and environment that play a role in determining a person's personality as they grow up. Nature has an impact too.” The Keeper murmured as they set to cutting up the fish. “His blindness is a sensory experience that his family doesn't inherently understand, so unless they care enough to try, communicating with him would be more difficult.”

“Making brainwashing him harder.” Sebastian nodded, popping a chip into his mouth. “I guess it would have the same effect if the parents were just too busy to guide the kid, maybe that's what went wrong with Eliza, her dad was her only caregiver after all.”

“Seeing bad things happen to good people can make a person bitter too. As would seeing people continuously get away with evil deeds.” The Keeper gave a wry smile as they speared a piece of fish on their fork and offered it to him.

At his curious tilt of the head, they elaborated. “Eliza might have become disillusioned and ceased to believe that there are reasons to be good or kind. While Ominis, powerless as he was and regretful of his casting of the Cruciatus, longed to believe that there is an inherent universal law that actions always have consequences. That his family would also come to regret what they'd done. That there is a justice that comes about naturally.”

Sebastian accepted the bite as they spoke, enjoying the crunchiness of the fried batter and the rich flavour as he thought back to Ominis’ behaviour yesterday.

“And that's why he believes in things people ‘should’ and ‘shouldn't’, and justice but never actually does anything to bring said justice about. He thinks it'll just happen on its own, like a force of nature that ought to be.” Sebastian paused. “I think there's a word for that, Amit called it ‘karma’.”

“Is that so... Well, yes, and that's also why Ominis doesn't want the people he loves to do bad things.” The Keeper added, taking a bite of the fish as well. “After all, karma will fuck you up if you do ‘bad shit’.”

Sebastian sighed. “So, he'll never really do anything about injustice, because he thinks he can’t make any difference even if he tried, but still be anxious about those he loves doing ‘bad’ things.”

“Indeed, and such anxiety piles up, till he can’t help but lash out towards said loved ones and hurt them. Though I'm not entirely certain where his confidence in karma comes from. Normally one would instead think the opposite, after seeing his family get away with so much use of dark magic.” The Keeper gave him an amused smile when Sebastian opened his mouth in demand for more food. “Perhaps his idea of good and bad might be influenced by his aunt Noctua's beliefs - whatever they were - since she was the one who was kindest to him.”

Happily accepting another bite, Sebastian nodded absently. “Could be, I wonder if that's why he seemed to open up to Anne. She was always rather outspoken for a Slytherin, kind of like Natty.”

“Oh?” The Keeper's head tilted to the side curiously, wondering as they continued to eat and feed him occasionally, if Sebastian knew that she was supposed to have been a Gryffindor.

“Yeah, it was a month after school started, a bunch of our older housemates were bullying a half-blood and goading Ominis to join them. Anne charged over to stop them.” Sebastian explained with a grin, recalling the moment fondly.

Come on, surely the heir of Slytherin knows some good curses!

Show us what you've got, Gaunt!

...I'd really rather not...

Hey! You three, cut that out or I'll tell Professor Sharp!

Ha! A first-year wench wants to fight us?

How cute... heh heh...

Oi! Touch my sister, and I'll put you lot in the infirmary!

“Though, a prefect came along and somehow or other, we all got a detention for fighting. We served it with Ominis, and he became our friend after that.” Sebastian chuckled, recalling how offended the shy and quiet Ominis had looked, at Sebastian’s first thoughtless comment.

I'm surprised you didn't go along with them, didn't think you'd have the balls for that.

...I find that type of thing abhorrent...

Ah- what I mean is, I- well, I thought it was pretty brave. Not letting them push you around.

...brave? Me?

Y- yeah, you're normally so quiet. Not- not that that's bad, it's, well-

It's nice to have someone else in this house who hates bullying! I'm Anne, and this bumbling oaf is my twin brother, Sebastian.

...Ominis...

“He was so pretty and shy, it was all I could do to not trip on my tongue when we first started hanging out.” Sebastian laughed, accepting another bite from the Keeper before continuing. “Anne had to do most of the work getting him to relax around us at the start.”

“How'd he end up staying with you in Feldcroft?” The Keeper asked curiously, having wondered about that for quite a while.

“It was a bit of an accident. We were waiting for Anne to join us, and he just seemed so depressed about going home for the winter holidays, I kind of blurted out an invitation before I could think it through.” Sebastian grinned sheepishly. “Anne chewed me out for doing that before getting permission from Solomon.”

Sebastian! You can't just say that, what if Uncle Solomon says no?

Well, he can suck a-

Sebastian!

...it's fine, Sebastian, I don't want you to get in trouble for me...

You're worth it.

...!

I'll do whatever Uncle Solomon wants if he'll let Ominis stay.

Ugh, I'm not helping you if Uncle gets mad that you went over his head again.

“I got my uncle to agree in the end, after a long lecture about who owns the bloody cottage. Had to agree to do all the yard work for the entire holiday.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Probably helped that Ominis was quiet and obedient, and his parents sent him more money than he needed, so Solomon never had to pay for him, even when Ominis finally decided that he was never going back.”

...Sebastian, could you- could you read the letter for me?

Er, you sure, Ominis? Al- alright...

Well? What did his parents say, Seb?

Um... well, they say that, if he's not coming home... to at least dress as fitting for one of the noble House of Gaunt... so as not to bring shame to the family name...

Are you serious, Sebastian? That's all they said? Ominis refuses to go home and that's all they have to say? What awful parents! How could they!? Terrible people! Aaaarrgh! Don't they care about him!?

...

It's fine, isn't it? You don't need them, Ominis. You have us. Anne and I, we're your family now.

...!

He still remembered how Ominis had felt, tiny fists in his shirt, tears in those beautiful pale eyes, trembling in his arms. Almost seven years ago and again yesterday morning. The more things changed, the more they also stayed the same, it seemed.

I- Sebastian... thank you.

The Keeper gave him a wry smile, inviting Ominis without permission and just barrelling through everything in his way, how very like Sebastian. “I imagine spending time around your uncle probably cemented Ominis’ simplistic ideas of right and wrong.”

Sebastian snorted, his voice slightly bitter. “No kidding, I guess Anne did too.”

“You certainly didn't, any ideas why that might be?” The Keeper asked curiously.

Sebastian wore a thoughtful expression for a few moments. “Maybe it's because I read our parents’ books.”

“Books?”

“Yeah, they were professors, and they published a few research journals on the origins of magic before the accident.” Sebastian beamed proudly, before it became sad. “We were eight when they died... Anne found their books too difficult and painful to read, but I wanted to understand them better.”

“So you studied so that you could appreciate their lives’ work.” The Keeper chuckled, that explained a lot.

“I suppose you could put it that way.” He grinned. “They were convinced that all magic was born from the same source, and it was the will of wizardkind that shaped it.”

“Sounds reasonable, Fig said something similar too. Magic is no different from any power, what matters is the one who wields it.” The Keeper mused as they fed him the last chip. “That's why it matters who is given power, more than the power itself.”

“Exactly.” Sebastian nodded, chasing the strip of potato with the rest of his butterbeer. “Uncle Solomon didn't agree though, he fought with dad a lot over that. Heard them arguing once when I couldn't sleep, something about their research being useful to the Aurors. I don't really remember why, but I think dad didn't want to give it to them.”

“Considering how shit the ministry is, I'm not particularly surprised.” The Keeper snorted as they finished their mug too. “Your parents sound like they were wise and brilliant people.”

They smiled when his face lit up. “Like you.”

Cheeks flushed with happiness, Sebastian grinned. “Never thought anyone would ever call me wise.”

“Wisdom comes with growth, and I think you've done a lot of it in the last few years.” The Keeper chuckled, waving Eliza over to pay for the meal. “Thank you for the recommendation, Eliza, the food was lovely.”

The woman wore a delighted smile as she accepted the coins and waved the two off. “Hope to see you again!”

The windows of the Rowdy Rogue were closed and there was no indication that the establishment was even open, aside from the occasional rugged looking individual entering or leaving. Under their hood, the Keeper glanced about the dimly lit street, the few lamps barely illuminating the dirty floor beneath their feet.

Slipping their Phantoms mask over their face, the Keeper entered the building and was immediately struck by how loud it was. Unlike the Phantom's Flask, the tavern was brightly lit, and in place of low murmurs were shouts, full-belly laughs and the occasional cheers as patrons exchanged bets over a pair, arm wrestling at one of the tables.

Rowdy indeed.

To their confusion, the bartender was an elderly looking lady with the darker olive skin of the Romani population, and long white hair in a loose braid, probably not guildmaster Gilfred then. Lowering their hood, the Keeper made their way to the bar, dodging the blind swings of several arms as the patrons gestured animatedly in their conversations.

When they finally made it to the bar, the Keeper spared a glance at the man sitting at it, his head resting on the counter, before asking the bartender. “Lookin’ for guildmaster Gilfred.”

The bartender gave them a lopsided grin and she promptly smacked the sleeping man on the back of the head. “Git up, son.”

“Wha-” The red-faced man with equally olive skin and rusty brown hair blinked a few times, before blinking blearily at the Keeper. “An’ whadda ya want?”

The Keeper was speechless for a moment, this was the guildmaster? Well, they could see the resemblance to his brother James, though he'd clearly inherited more of his mother's looks and speech.

“Ugh, ‘ang on. I needa drink.” The young man groaned. “Ma, gimmie a pint.”

The elderly woman rolled her eyes, but got him a large mug anyway, which he downed fast enough that even Faun would likely be impressed.

“Ah! Much bet'er.” He slammed the mug on the counter with a satisfied sigh, before turning to the Keeper and slurring. “Now whaddya want kid? Ol’ Al bet’er not've sent ya ta ask a fav'or.”

The Keeper snorted, well, if nobody was even trying to put on airs here, they'd stand out more if they did.

“Nothin’ o’ the sort.” It almost felt weird to slip back into speaking this way after all these years. “Just wanted ta give ya a ‘eads up. I'll be doin’ some business in these ‘ere parts.”

“O’ yea?” Gilfred hiccupped, giving them a lopsided grin that looked just like his mother's. “Whacha doin’? An’ hit piece?”

“A disappearin’.” The Keeper answered with an amused shrug, what a strange guildmaster. “Nothin’ more, like’as not.”

“Ha!” Gilfred barked a laugh. “Wel- hic, who's da poor sod?”

The Keeper was about to answer, when the shouting from behind them became angry and far louder than before. Both they, and the guildmaster, turned to see what looked like a fight breaking out between two tables, a blond man punching another to the floor to loud cheers from the rest of the pub.

To the Keeper’s surprise, the guildmaster made no move to break it up, simply watching with mild interest. At least until the blond man drew his wand, and then Gilfred was suddenly beside the man, plucking said wand from his hand almost too quickly to even see.

The Keeper blinked in surprise, had he apparated? They hadn't heard a sound though.

“Now now, dere'll be no magic if yer fightin’ in ‘ere. Ya know da rulez.” Gilfred slurred with a broad grin, swaying tipsily on the spot, the blond man's wand dangling in a loose pinch between his fingers.

“Oh, sod off, ‘e deserves it!” The blond man shouted, flushed red with anger and probably a little too much alcohol, making a grab for his wand as the other patrons jeered at him.

His grin unfaltering, Gilfred laughed, stepping back clumsily out of his range and overbalancing, the back of the guildmaster's knees hit a chair and he tumbled over it, his foot coming up as he fell over and slamming squarely into the blond man's gut.

Wind knocked out of him, the blond man stumbled back into a table before using it to push himself back towards the guildmaster.

Grabbing the chair that Gilfred had fallen over, the man threw it at the collapsed guildmaster, only for Gilfred to catch the chair's legs with his ankles, pushing on the floor with his hands, and flipping with the chair's momentum till it landed upright on its legs. Perching lazily on it with a smirk as the pub patrons cheered, the occasional glint of brass knuckles gleaming on the raised fists of the crowd.

Enraged, the blond grabbed another chair and swung it at him. With a grin, the guildmaster rolled onto his feet and the two wooden chairs were smashed into pieces against each other.

So, that's why the chairs were all newer than the building, the Keeper remarked to themselves absently.

They supposed there was only so many times one could reparo a piece of furniture before it was too worn, and they watched curiously as the guildmaster drunkenly stumbled to his feet. He certainly seemed drunk, yet somehow not a single blow managed to land on him and his flailing limbs would repeatedly hit the blond attacker as he wobbled through the tavern.

With a sleepy yawn, Gilfred stretched, taking the blond man's wand out of his reach and teetering to the side sluggishly. The man lunged for his wand, only to trip over Gilfred's leg, falling onto the bar counter, just a few paces away from the Keeper.

Without missing a beat, the bartender dropped her hand down on the man's neck and he went limp.

“Whew! Tha’ waz fun.” Gilfred chuckled, stumbling over to shove the blond's wand into the man's pocket, and the Keeper watched incredulously as the guildmaster rummaged through the man's coat for a moment, before pulling out a coin pouch and raising it in the air. “A round o’ drinkz on da bloke!”

The pub erupted into cheers and the Keeper winced at the volume, yeah, they much preferred the Phantom's. Though they imagined Sebastian would find this place more exciting.

“Zo.” The guildmaster tossed the pouch at his mother behind the counter and sat down beside the Keeper again. “Whut wure we talkin’ bout?”

“Frederick Taylor, bloke’ll be missin’ soon.” The Keeper answered, eyeing the mug of pale liquid that the elderly bartender had placed in front of them.

“Tis strawberry milk.” She smiled wryly, flicking her wand and sending several mugs of gold liquid flying off the counter to the tables. “I know Alasdair ‘ands those out fer recruits. That blasted snake, ‘iring kids ta fight.”

“Sayz da one what sent me ta ‘im fer trainin’.” Gilfred snorted, snatching one of the mugs out of the air and taking a generous swig.

“I sent ye ta ‘im to getcha sobered up.” The bartender flicked a bottle cork at him, and it hit him square in the forehead, leaving a red mark and almost knocking him off his stool. “Didn't wantcha drivin’ me guild inta the ground.”

As Gilfred scrambled to save his brew from the floor, the Keeper's eyebrows rose, so she used to be the old guildmaster. Perhaps not so surprising, they mused, taking a drink of milk from their mug, old as she was, Gilfred's mother looked like she could crack a skull with a single footstep.

Glaring at the bartender through hazy eyes, the wasted guildmaster grumbled under his breath that the only reason Alasdair had a doorman was because the posh man thought kicking out rowdy people beneath him. Before rather pointedly guzzling the rest of his drink, and tossing the empty mug into the sink behind the counter, where the dishes were washing themselves.

“Weell, kid, dunno whut yer've been ‘ired ta nab ‘im fer, me bruther's gonna whine bout snipin’ ‘is patrons, but dere ain't no problems ‘ere.” Gilfred slurred and slumped on the table again, looking quite ready to go back to sleep.

“Glad ta ‘ear it.” The Keeper gave an amused huff, even they were having a hard time understanding what the man was saying.

At least there wouldn't be any problems with their job, they continued to drink their milk, it wasn't as good as Alasdair’s but hey, it was free. Be a shame to waste a free drink.

“Kid, gimmie yer ‘and.” The bartender raised her hand, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow in response. Well, she was the previous guildmaster and Alasdair, they hoped, would have warned them if they couldn't trust her.

Extending their hand, and cautiously placing it in hers, the Keeper watched as she simply held it, her eyes closed for several long moments, and they felt a tingling sensation creep slowly up along their arm.

Until, finally, she lifted her eyes to meet theirs, and her amber orbs felt like they were seeing into their soul, leaving them ever so slightly unsettled.

“Well, you're somethin’ unique, aren't ya. So young, yet so ancient.” She murmured and the Keeper stiffened. “Be careful, people like ya ‘ave been disappearin’.”

They frowned as she released their hand. “What's that ‘sposed ta mean?”

“Zactly what I said.” The bartender gave them a tight smile. “Places like these draw them odds ‘n ends, misfits ‘n the like. Had our fair share ‘o strange folk with strange powers, lot of ‘em ‘ave gone missin’ ov'r the years.”

“That so?” The Keeper murmured, flexing their hand absently. “Any ideas what mighta ‘appened to ‘em?”

She shook her head. “Not a clue, but most of ‘em ain't the type that'd up ‘n leave with nary a word.”

Well, that wasn't much to go on, and they were fairly cautious already, so the Keeper asked instead. “What'd you do just there?”

“Just gettin’ a feel fer ya.” The bartender gave them a cryptic smile. “If ol’ Alasdair hadn't snatched ye up, I might’ve ‘ad me boy do it.”

Before the Keeper could even formulate a response, there came a loud thud beside them and, looking down, they found said ‘boy’ sprawled out on the floor snoring loudly.

Heaving a sigh and grumbling under her breath, the bartender wiped her hands and set down her towel. “That boy... ‘ang on.”

“Take yer time.” The Keeper chuckled, tossing the collapsed guildmaster an amused glance as his mother walked around the counter to drag his ass onto a bench.

It was plain to see that, despite her complaints and general atmosphere of disapproval, the woman loved the odd young man quite deeply.

Somehow, it reminded them of the way Ominis was with Sebastian. Even though neither boy had particularly good examples to follow, and were very clumsy about it, Ominis and Sebastian still managed to discover love, and stumble through expressing it to each other.

Some things were just natural, if you love someone, you can't bear to make them feel worse when they're already feeling bad, right? You want them to be happy and safe, warm and wearing a smile. It didn't matter what they'd done or your own ego or what you expected of them. You'd never just toss them aside, disown them like Solomon did Sebastian.

That's how the Keeper felt at least, and they knew both boys did too.

Sebastian had seen, even if he hadn't understood, how much it hurt Ominis to join him in the Scriptorium. That it wasn't that Ominis didn't want to help him, but that helping was hurting him. So, Sebastian had tried to leave Ominis out of saving Anne, without making Ominis feel guilty about not helping.

Sure, it was lying by omission, but the Keeper had understood the love in that act, and it had been quite inspirational to them. In his own way, Ominis had shown it too, trying to stop Sebastian in fear that Sebastian, who had already been dealt a dreadful blow by Anne's curse, would only suffer more as he struggled against fate.

Even if Ominis’ words and actions, in the spirit of love, had ended up hurting Sebastian too, he'd been torn between stopping Sebastian for his own good and knowing that Sebastian needed to do this to be happy. Ominis had been easy to sway because he understood that Sebastian would never be able to forgive himself if he stopped, something he loved and hated about his best friend, and a part of him had hoped that Sebastian would succeed.

Considering Ominis’ own mental state, they could respect that internal struggle and knew that that too came from love. The Keeper was still struggling with it themselves. Trying to do the right thing for Sebastian and Ominis, when they didn't have anyone to teach them.

It had been terrifying yesterday, hearing Ominis speak like he wanted to die. They'd seen it many times, the ones who... decided that their lot wasn't worth suffering through. The ones who'd sat down and waited for death.

...I'm tired... we... we were never meant to be born.

They'd spent years wondering why they were still fighting even though they knew that the best they could hope for was a dignified death. That nothing short of a miracle would improve their situation. Well, they'd gotten their miracle, and Sebastian and Ominis had made all those years of fighting worth it.

The thought that they might have unintentionally pushed their precious Ominis to the point of wishing he'd never been born, even though they needed him so much, had been a punch to the gut.

They still felt bad about slapping him, but they'd needed to snap him out of it, perhaps even more for themselves than for him. He and Sebastian, being a part of what those two boys had, being loved, was the Keeper's prize after a lifetime's worth of suffering, and they wouldn't relinquish that. Ever.

As they watched the elderly lady tuck her son in with a blanket, struggling to pry his arms from where they were wrapped around hers like it were his bolster. A clear mix of fondness and exasperation on her features, and a part of them felt some relief to see their own feelings reflected in her eyes and actions.

That maybe, even if they didn't know what they were doing or how things would turn out in the end, there were some things that everyone could get right.

When there was love.

The wind was biting as it grazed the skin under their hood and the Keeper spared Sebastian a fond smile as he grumbled, turning onto his side to catch the little light peering through the clouds on the pages of his book, only to almost fall off the sloped roof that they were precariously perched upon.

“Gah!” Sebastian yelped, catching the book as the Keeper pulled him back to safety, and he grinned sheepishly up at them from their lap. “Thanks.”

“Careful darling.” They chuckled, before returning their magically enhanced gaze to the street below.

The Eagle's Eye Elixir was probably one of the most useful NEWT-level potions they'd learnt so far and they'd put it to good use, watching the Rowdy Rogue for their target from a safe vantage away. It was certainly far preferable to casting the disillusionment charm on themselves and hiding near the establishment while the spell drained their magic for who knows how long.

“You know.” Sebastian mused, watching them from their lap. “Keeping you company while waiting for hours, following a guy around, drinking polyjuice. Not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help you on your next job.”

“Regretting?” The Keeper asked absently with an amused smile.

“More like impressed that you're not bored out of your mind.” Sebastian commented, following their eyes down to the people hustling back and forth.

“I like people watching.” The Keeper replied, brushing their fingers through his hair idly. “There was little else to do, outside of gang fights, learning to read the Bible, and my... work. You can learn a lot just from watching peopl-”

The Keeper froze when a familiar man entered their view, and thereafter, the pub. Anger throbbed through their veins, that scum, walking about, free of all cares even after what he'd done to Tobbs. He deserved nothing less than a hole in the ground, him and all the others like him.

“There he is.” They hissed.

Sebastian sighed. “Great. Now we have to wait for him to finish his dinner, track him back to his house and then come back again tomorrow to nab him on the way home.”

“Yup.” The Keeper chuckled, patting him on the head. “It's the least we can do...”

A vicious smirk stretched across the Keeper's face.

“...to let him enjoy his last day as a free man.”

The road was dark as Frederick Taylor left Edinburgh, crunching through the snow with a bottle in hand, heading home after a long day’s work at the city's potions’ emporium. His ears still ringing from the scathing rebukes he'd gotten from the surly old owner of the shop.

Damn woman, it wasn't his fault her workshop was so fucking messy, eventually someone was going to mix up the bottle of Rosewoods oil drops and essence of Essenwood. They were the same colour!

It still pissed him off that he was now an employee, when he'd once owned his own potions shop in London. Now, he had to work for someone else, and he cursed the useless elf that'd disappeared from the cave he'd left it in two years ago.

The very reminder was enough for him to take another swig from the bottle he'd taken with him when James kicked him out of the pub. His tongue had gone numb to its flavour since he'd finished his second, but its buzz was probably the only reason he wasn't crying like a baby.

His Vanessa, that beautiful fucking whore. How could she leave him? With nothing but a bloody note! She'd said she loved him, he'd bought her everything she wanted, he'd given her lots of love and sex too, which he was quite good at! His wife had gotten pregnant twice, after all. He'd heard some guys couldn't even do that. Weak plebs.

Vanessa probably would have gotten pregnant after being together so long, if she wanted to, but the bitch took contraceptive potions every time, saying she wanted him to leave his wife first. That cunt had probably been planning to leave the whole time, maybe he should have swapped her potion so she would get pregnant, maybe she would've stayed then.

His wife had. She'd married him after he knocked her up, her prissy parents hadn't wanted her to have a kid out of wedlock and he'd agreed. Why wouldn't he? They were rich. Compared to his adoptive parents, at least.

Frederick slipped on a patch of ice and cursed, pausing to spit at it before continuing on his way.

Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted another kid. He never knew what to do with them, his stupid wife had thrown such a hissy fit when he'd pulled out his belt the first time their baby started screaming. She'd looked so horrified, pretty blue eyes staring at him in shock as she stood between him and the kid.

It'd started then, those beautiful eyes, staring at him like he was some sort of monster. Like she didn't know him. He'd backed off from then on, whenever it came to the kids. What was that look for? That's what you did with noisy brats. Her method took forever for the kid to shut up, but he'd decided to be gracious and let her get her way, maybe then she'd stop looking at him like that.

Those eyes haunted him, the change that had come over them, the way she looked at him, like there was something wrong with him. It drove him mad, even just remembering it.

He raised the bottle to his lips again, and it only got worse over the years. It wasn't his fault. He never wanted to hit her, it just- Every time he got some drinks with his friends, she would look at him with those eyes, like those fucking muggles did, like he was a beggar on the streets.

It wasn't his fault she was always so annoying while he was just trying to enjoy the buzz. Babbling incessantly about how he shouldn't drink, and how she needed the money for her parents’ medical bills, ridiculous considering how rich they were. The wizarding healers weren't like muggle doctors, they could do so much insane stuff, surely those bills couldn't be that much of a problem. Did she think he was stupid? She was probably hiding all that money just so he'd drink less.

Was it too much to ask? To let him have even this one thing to look forward to. If she just minded her own business and stopped trying to control him, everything would be fine.

She was always on his case about spending more time with the brats too, and it wasn't as if he didn't want to, it wasn't his fault that the kids liked her more. They were always so happy with her, even if also annoyingly loud, but with him, they were quiet and stiff. He was trying, alright!? He wanted the kids to like him too, goddammit, but all they wanted was their ma.

The older one had started giving him the same look she did, since he began Hogwarts. Frederick was willing to bet the last of his coin that his petty, childish, and selfish wife was poisoning the boy against him. Turning his own sons against him, what a vindictive bitch.

God, it pissed him off so bad, why had she changed? What happened to the sweet girl he'd met in Hogwarts? He'd thought her so beautiful when he'd first met her, gentle and ladylike, the prettiest Hufflepuff in their year. He'd been the envy of the other Gryffindor boys when she agreed to go out with him in fifth year and he'd been grateful to his adoptive parents. They'd given him the money to impress her and supported his pursuit of her.

Now he wished they hadn't. It was just his luck, to be deceived by his first girl, ensnared by the falsehood that she would always be the loving and gentle person she'd pretended to be, only to change after their marriage.

He supposed he had been somewhat lucky, once. His parents had died two years before he'd gotten his letter, and going to the magical school had gotten him adopted in his first year, by a couple in Hogsmeade, so he hadn't had to go back to the filthy orphanage over the summers.

The couple had mostly used him as a second house elf, but it was so much better than the workhouse, that he'd taken it without complaint. Their elf though, he'd hated it so much. It was small, ugly, stupid, and worst of all, better at magic than Frederick. Even though he was human, he was a wizard! He wasn't a weird little freak like the muggle orphanage hands called him, compared to that wrinkly creature with no pride.

At least he'd been good at potions, and they'd bought a shop with his wife's money, the ungrateful bitch never appreciated that it was Frederick's talent that made the shop successful. That if it weren't for him, her parents’ money would be sitting uselessly in the bank, like the money he knew she was hiding from him now.

All she did was smile and laugh and gossip with the customers about pointless things like how their families were doing. Who fucking cares? They were just here to buy his potions, they probably found his brainless wife annoying too and were too polite to tell her off. He'd told her to cut it out and stop wasting time when she could be working, but she never listened.

Ironic since the bitch was always whining that he never listened to her, never spent time with her. Well, she never wanted to have sex either, she was always “too tired”. As if she had anything difficult to do, their elf handled the chores and heavy lifting, so all she had to do was take care of their brats and manage their potions, keep things organised and other brain work shit. Far less work than a muggle bitch who had to do all of that and actually tiring chores by hand. The cunt was so entitled and lazy.

She just didn't care about his needs, so it wasn't his fault for scratching that itch elsewhere. Why should he be honest? She was keeping secrets too. Keeping the fortune she'd inherited from her rich parents hidden away somewhere, just so she could continue pestering him to quit drinking with the excuse of running out of money.

Vanessa had reminded him of her, of how she'd looked, back during their Hogwarts days. Pretty blue eyes, soft face, not like all the lines that had appeared on his wife's brow over the years, the skin under Vanessa's eyes was light, not like the ugly dark stains that were under his wife's or the red puffiness that came after he’d had some drinks. Even Jesus and fucking Saint Aidan would lose his temper with that woman.

Served his shit wife right anyway, the bitch was always so whiny whenever they did have sex, never just lying down with him and letting him enjoy the afterglow afterwards. Always running off quickly to do something with the children or the shop, she always had to ruin things every time he made an effort to rekindle their romance from back in Hogwarts.

Things only got worse after the damn elf disappeared, she still insisted that she didn't have any money left from her parents. Like he would buy such an obvious lie, everybody lies, he already knew that. After all, he was doing it too, hiding Vanessa from her, but he never thought his wife would hate him so much that she'd continue hiding her money till they lost the shop.

Crying crocodile tears while spitefully forcing him into the humiliating corner of having to work as an employee. His luck was terrible too, all his bosses were shit fucks that fired him after mere weeks, he bet his whore of a wife was fucking her boss, that's why she got a well-paying job so quickly.

Yet she still kept nagging him to get a job, whining all the time that they needed to make more money, that their debt was incurring interest faster than she could keep up with, while paying for everything. As if it was his fault nobody appreciated his talents. As if she couldn't just stop hiding her money and fucking pay it off.

He wasn't stupid, her job's pay was good, but not good enough to keep up. She was just taking her hidden money out slowly instead of using it to fix their problems. Weren't those problems bad enough for her to drop her petty grudge against him and do the right thing, even if Frederick would benefit from that money too? Even he felt bad when their sons had to drop out of Hogwarts.

Maybe if he left, she'd finally be willing to take the money out and at least use it for the kids. He'd been fighting with her one morning, and she'd had the audacity to suggest selling his real muggle birth parents’ gold wedding rings and his mother’s pearl necklace, all he’d had left of them when they died. He'd buried those treasures when they died and only went back for them after he'd graduated, and his wife was talking about selling them!?

Their oldest had slammed his hands on the table, shouting, “Shut up, da! Everything would be better if you just fucked off!”

Frederick had been so shocked, his children had never taken that tone or language with him before. He'd been furious at his wife, what was the woman teaching their children!?

He'd gone for his wand, intending to cast a Silencing Charm on the impudent brat.

Only for her to fucking grab the two kids and run from the house, as though he were a monster chasing them. Embarrassing him, when his shouting and their fleeing made the neighbours, and everyone on the street, look at him like a madman. Cheeks flushed with humiliation, he'd stormed back into the house and began packing his things.

Why the hell not. He'd leave, and he'd take whatever he could find. His bitch wife could keep the children that she'd poisoned against him, he didn't need them, he didn't need any of them. He still had his mother’s necklace and his father’s ring, and a handful of galleons. He would start over with Vanessa, maybe then he'd have children who loved him.

Frederick tilted the bottle further back and groaned in disappointment when he had to accept that it was empty. Furious that it hadn't been enough to get his brain to stop working, he threw the bottle into the treeline, wobbling on the spot as it shattered against a trunk.

He choked out a sob and slumped against a dying tree on the other side of the road. Its barren branches loomed over his head, dry and empty, save the snow gathering along the length of its bough, weighing it down to graze the tips of his hair with bony cold fingers.

He never wanted any of this. He just wanted a beautiful loving wife, and children who would smile at him, look at him like he was the world to them. Instead, he'd gotten an ungrateful bitch, children who loved her more than him, and a lying cunt who left him with no more than a note of farewell.

What had he left now? The pearl necklace around his neck, a gold ring, five galleons and a small, rented room in Musselburgh. No parents, no family, no friends. All alone in the world. Unbidden, his sons’ faces came to mind.

He could still remember his boys when they were still babies. They'd become annoying as they grew older, but he still remembered the moment he'd held his firstborn, little soft thing with big blue eyes. None of the anger that'd begun showing up in those eyes. The younger one still hadn't had that happen... yet.

So, it was good. It was good to have left. Before that happened. His wife had a job, she was good with numbers and words, she could keep things tidy, and she was still kind of pretty. She'd be fine. They'd be fine without him.

...

Fuck, he missed them.

It was so fucking weird, but those boys, his bitch wife. Now that he was crying on the side of an empty dirt road surrounded by dying trees and freezing his balls off, he kinda wished he was back home. How were the kids? His wife? Were they really better off since he'd left six months ago?

Frederick shook his head, of course they were.

Of course they were. He closed his eyes. His kids were cuddled with his bitch wife in front of the fireplace, celebrating Christmas, all warm an-

“...lp!”

Frederick blinked, turning his head towards the faint sound, had he imagined it? Struggling to focus through the haze in his mind, he looked up, the road was bathed in pitch black, and the light of the night sky had been covered by thick clouds.

The sound of a twig snapping just off to his left made him jump and his eyes peered through the treeline, the cold air quickly sobering him as he raised his wand. “Lumos!”

A circle of light bloomed around him, straining to push back against the darkness, but he could see no further than a few steps.

“Is someone there?” Frederick called out, straining his ears to catch the slightest sound.

But nothing came.

The silence of the empty winter road, the graveyard of dead trees devoid of life or motion, suddenly felt too quiet. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and the inside of his skull ringing between his hollow ears.

The darkness of the path lay like a gaping void at his feet, the eerie stillness burning the last of the alcohol's buzz from his mind.

“Help! Help me!”

Frederick stiffened when he recognised that voice. No, it couldn't be. The boy was supposed to be at home, with his wife-

A deep growl and a shriek of terror cut through the air, the clouds parted, and the moon's light pierced the darkness. Through the scattering of trees, Frederick was struck with horror when he spotted a small dark figure running through the trees, pursued by a large wolf.

“Help! Dad!” The boy's panicked voice stabbed the man, sharp painful spikes of dread embedding themselves in his chest.

“Andrew!” Frederick shouted. Clenching his teeth, he took off after the figures, heart pounding as he ran, stumbling over tree roots and bushes.

Not his boy, not the one that still hadn't learned to hate him yet. Andrew was supposed to be at home with his fucking wife, what the fuck was wrong with the useless fucking bitch!? Couldn't even get this right!? Couldn't even keep their kids safe!?

Just ahead of him, the wolf had caught up to his son and was crouched over the fallen boy.

Fear and anger boiling in his veins, Frederick swung his wand at the wolf, shouting. “Diffindo!”

The wolf leapt out of the way and his spell slammed into a tree, cutting deep into its bark, as the wolf turned its golden gaze on him.

Fear chilled him to the bone, as it bared its teeth at Frederick, sharp fangs gleaming in the light of his wand, and in that moment, he saw in its eyes, his own death staring him in the face.

Behind the wolf, was his son, the boy lying on the floor, his boy, his child. The desire to save his son clenched tight within his heart, but the fear seeping through his pores was turning his flesh numb with its chill.

He had to save Andrew...

The wolf's jaw spread wide.

He had to save...

The great beast raised its haunches.

He had to...

It sprang forward at him.

...had to...

Run. Turning on the spot and diving out of the wolf's path, Frederick ran back the way he'd come. His heart screamed at him in pain, but his body was numb with fear.

He could always have another kid, everything would be over if he died. This wasn't his fault. It was hers. Andrew shouldn't even be here, all alone. She'd abandoned him first. It wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve to die for her mistake.

He glanced behind him as he ran, but to his surprise, instead of a wolf, he caught a glimpse of what looked like a person, as a red hued spell slammed into him, throwing him through the air.

As his vision darkened, the last terrifying thing that he saw...

Was a shadowy figure standing over him with blood red eyes.

Sebastian brushed the snow from his pant legs with tiny hands as he stood, cheeks flushed pink and heart still racing. Fuuuuuck, having the Keeper looming over him, pinning him to the floor in their Animagus form, their large heavy paws dipping into the snow, heat radiating from their fur and sharp fangs showing.

He wondered if it was because of his own Animagus form's instinct, Sebastian felt like if he were as a dog, he'd have rolled onto his back and bared his neck. Was it just a result of the adrenaline? It'd been a long time since he'd been a boy around the age of the kid he'd polyjuiced into, and he couldn't quite remember how easy it had been to end up having a... well, tent in the pant.

He watched as the Keeper flicked their wand and conjured ropes to bind the unconscious man lying in the snow, taking his wand and searching him for any portkeys or valuables and probably his keys. What a coward, Sebastian sneered at the bound man.

Hiccupping, Sebastian drew his wand and cast a resizing charm on his clothes, loosening them in advance as he felt the polyjuice begin to wear off. At least the man had cared enough about his kid to be lured off the road, the thought was quickly ejected from his brain however, and Sebastian doubled over, pain rippling across his body as his skin stretched, bones elongating and thickening.

Until he was himself again, kneeling on the ground, his hands braced against the cold snow, heaving for breath as the sound of footsteps approached.

“Alright there, love?” The Keeper asked.

“Ugh, that was worse than I expected.” Sebastian groaned.

“Probably hurt more because of the age difference. Growing pains.” The Keeper grinned and Sebastian chuckled weakly.

A swirl of golden light later, he felt warm fur against his chest as the Keeper slipped under his arms, supporting his weight and allowing him to drape over their large wolf form. Offering themselves as support while he recovered, so that his hands needn't rest on the cold snow, and Sebastian's cheeks warmed yet again when he felt their powerful muscles flexing under the fluffy fur.

Reminded of how it'd felt to have them crouched over him mere moments ago.

When he felt well enough, Sebastian gave the Keeper's head a grateful pat, and slowly peeled himself from their back to stand. As he did so, the Keeper quickly transformed back into human form to support him when he wobbled on the spot, slipping their arms around his waist.

As he leaned against them, he felt their warm breath by his ear, and they murmured. “You smell much better as yourself.”

Going even redder, Sebastian blanched. “You were sniffing me?”

He could hear the broad grin in their voice as they chuckled and purred. “Hard not to when you smell so aroused.”

Sebastian wasn't sure how he felt about them knowing that he'd been turned on by the sheer danger wafting off them a few minutes ago. Embarrassed? More aroused?

Scrambling for a response, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Oh yeah? And how's that smell?”

The Keeper pressed their nose to his nape and murmured. “Delicious.”

Sebastian gave a nervous laugh. “Planning on eating me?”

That probably shouldn't sound as good to him as it did.

“Maybe when we’re home and cleaned up. Job's not done yet.” The Keeper chuckled and released him, waving their wand. “Accio.”

The spell dragged Frederick's unconscious body across the ground and the Keeper plucked a strand of hair from his head. Dropping it into a vial of muddy brown polyjuice potion, it quickly turned into a nauseating lumpy sludge of yellow and green, and the Keeper grimaced at it.

“Bring him back to Dìon for me while I ransack his house.” Despite the wording, the Keeper's tone came out more like a question than an instruction.

“Sure.” Sebastian nodded, taking his broom from his pocket and enlarging it, before tying the man to the end and casting a levitation charm at him. “I'll see you back home.”

Mounting his broom with some discomfort, look it’s hard to have wood between the legs when you have wood between the legs, Sebastian flashed them a grin, calling back as he took off. “Then we can let him cook while you have me for dessert.”

The Keeper's laughter followed him out of the treeline and anticipation tightened Sebastian’s grip on the broom handle. Maybe if they were lucky, Ominis might be in the mood to provide some... accompanying refreshments too.

Notes:

Holy shit, the end notes for this one is too long for the notes box, so, er, yeah. I'm putting it in the actual chapter ha ha ha...

Just a few trivial notes to get out of the way;

AO3's image link for the artwork is now linking to Tumblr which is a compressed version of the artwork, you can view it in HD for free on my Patreon page!
https://www.patreon.com/posts/117545241

I made a small change to Part 2 chapter 19, because I didn't realise Edinburgh was actually a big city back when I first wrote that bit, (look, I ain't from around there and I picked Edinburgh cos the name sounded cool) so I made it a bit more specific, the Obliviated woman was dropped off by a small town “Musselburgh, just east of Edinburgh” and James owns “a bar in the city”.

And, in Harry Potter lore, the more powerful someone is, the more quiet they are when apparating, just sayin' x3

After added research, I've also changed the name of the Keeper's orphanage to Nazareth Houses in Part 1 chapter 6.

Has anyone even recognised the reference to Persona 5 with the guild being called the Phantoms and the Keeper wearing a half-face mask for their work? There's a TMNT Fast Forward reference and a subtle Undertale reference in there too hehe

Also, I love the idea of Sebastian accidentally making 11 year old Ominis fall in love with him by just being honest and not thinking before he speaks. I know people characterise him as flirty but I think in game, that was really just him sucking up to MC and prodding for information because he needed and admired them, I think he's the type that stumbles into his actual flirting without thinking much.

And that's the trivial notes done, please pay attention from this point on!

“When your friends are roasting on the spit, you're the one who feels the fire.” That's a quote from the first How To Train Your Dragons TV series (God, I love Dreamworks Dragons and Race to the Edge so much-)

In my humble opinion, the one commonality between every single type of love, platonic, romantic, familial, friendship and camaraderie and everything in-between, is “I don't want this person to suffer.” Now, the one stumbling block that a lot of people trip over is that the “suffer” should not be your own definition of “suffering”, it should be their definition of “suffering”.

The problems arise when you try to protect someone from what you personally think is the “worst suffering”, and put them through their “worst suffering” in the process. That's what Ominis and, to a more extreme extent, Solomon did with Sebastian, and we all know how that turned out.

So, key takeaway is, find out what your loved ones’ “worst suffering” is, and try to remember to protect them from their “worst suffering” and not your own when you naturally, as a result of love, try to protect them from suffering.

Next, I want to contrast the Keeper’s addiction vs Frederick's here. The key difference between them is that the Keeper had acknowledged the terrifying reality that they were addicted, accepted the fact that they couldn't handle it alone, and took responsibility for their actions as a result of their addiction. The appropriate response here is to support them, assure them that while they do bear that responsibility, their actions were understandable.

Frederick however, neither acknowledges his addiction, nor does he accept assistance with it and flees from responsibility. Blaming everyone around him and pushing them away. Sure, we are a product of our environment, but that doesn't mean you don't need to put in effort to change as well when presented with evidence that your interpretation of the world is wrong.

Unlike Sebastian, who does accept that he had fucked up (even if he had considerable personal justification) at the end of his questline. Takes two hands to clap and all that.

Now, all that being said, we should never shame addiction, even when it's a Frederick case, that's not what I'm trying to do here.

Addiction forms as a coping mechanism and everybody on planet Earth has suffered and to each and every one, your own suffering is the worst suffering on Earth. The hardest to deal with. We are all vulnerable to getting addicted to a specific thing that allows us to cope. Everyone is likely already addicted to something, it's just a question of how harmful it is and how well it's managed.

It's a different weak point for each person, the common ones are drugs, gambling, alcohol, porn, scrolling social media, but there are less obviously bad addictions too. People can be addicted to the dopamine hit they get when they make someone else happy, or the adrenaline rush that comes from hurting other people’s feelings or comparing themselves to others and stroking their own ego with how much “better” they are, whether that be in material ways or moral.

People that are addicted to things with negative effects on both themselves and others, need support to wean off them and adopt healthy coping mechanisms to manage said addictions.

However, that necessitates that the addicted person be aware that an uncontrolled addiction is inherently negative. Even if, “feeling good by making other people happy” seems like a good thing, if uncontrolled, a person might end up neglecting their own needs, chasing that dopamine hit, making them vulnerable to abuse. (The healthy solution for that one is simple, get a good partner and tell them you have a praise kink.)

Moderation is the key to success.

I know, corny, I'm sorry- but it's true, many people delude themselves into thinking that their addictions are not addictions, they're just “things I like doing” but, like someone I spent a week arguing with on YouTube's comments, a girl (according to her, which is odd since she also says she's graduated from University, most would use the word ‘woman’ by that age but okay).

She said and I quote, “Sebastian is a bad manipulative person, because if a person does a bad thing it means they were a bad person from the start and they're beyond saving and no amount of remorse can make up for it”, along with, “I got bullied but I never fought back or took drugs or stuff, so I'm stronger than people like Sebastian who caved under abuse from his uncle”.

That right there, is an addiction to the dopamine hit that comes when comparing yourself to someone else and going “wow, look how much better I am than that person”.

This same person also said that “even if you are poor, there are legal ways of making money, so if you break the law, even to save a family member, you are a bad person”. In other words, poor people are poor because they don't want to work, and by extension, homeless people should just buy a home. She also said that people with family members with cancer should just let them die because fighting cancer looks painful to her. Guess my aunt should have died rather than successfully fight off cancer and live another 20 years and counting. /s

I was genuinely at a loss for words with this person. She said she graduated from the free University, paid for by her government (wow, I wanna live there) where she studied “history” ...just history apparently. All the history, I guess. Of what? Of everything. But, somehow took a week to realise that laws are different in different countries and that having a country with laws that don't protect the people, would affect a person's morality and motivation to obey the law.

...okay, great, you made the first step, now please go to the next logical conclusion. Have you considered how shit the Ministry of Magic is? What makes you compare Sebastian to people in a first world country in 2024? Slavery and racism are LEGAL and rampant in Wizarding Britain, there’s no Childcare Protection Service, no lawyers, and there's a literal war with goblins going on. Even Hogwarts’ Headmaster Black is openly corrupt and engages in open favouritism and house elf abuse, this ain't a Dumbledore-run school at the moment! Such a trust-less society and environment is gonna affect Sebastian's morals too, that doesn’t make him evil!

She even cited Oliver Twist to compare Sebastian against like, “See, Oliver remained a good person despite everything he went through, so Sebastian caving to circumstances and using the unforgivables means he was always evil.” Completely missing the fact that Dickens wrote Oliver Twist to increase understanding of unfortunate people and challenge the idea that impoverished and desperate people are inherently morally evil, but instead teach that they're shaped by their environments. Even Oliver himself never judges his fellow impoverished negatively for being cruel to him.

Which is weird because this person was also defending how “good” of a person Ominis was, when he objectively failed her bar. I mean, he caved to his parents’ abuse and cast the Cruciatus curse on defenceless muggles. How is that different? Even Ominis himself is aware of this! The whole point of that was to show that this is a harmful mentality to have, even for the person having it, look at how much Ominis hates himself for failing that absurd expectation of perfection from humans.

(Plus, Sebastian cast all the unforgivables in defence so, with that plus being a minor, any juvenile court would show him leniency. Oh, did I mention that this person says 15-year-olds are not children? I was deeply concerned.)

I got several strokes arguing with this person that good people can make mistakes and do things they regret. Wow, so shocking, I know. And that “understandable” and “acceptable” are not the same thing. We can understand and empathise with the reasons a person does something, without condoning it.

The Just World Fallacy is a terrible and categorically delusional place to live in. I invite you to look up the term, it's an absurdly common cognitive bias in many people, my abusive father included. Not gonna lie, Fredrick takes a fair amount of inspiration from him.

These are the people that I write to convince, but man, if they can read friggin’ Oliver Twist and come away thinking that the book's message is to shame other unfortunate people for not being as good as Oliver, it makes me really scared to write. And that's why my notes are always so long-

Imagine, writing books where you try to teach people to be more understanding of why people shouldn't be blamed, hated, and punished for being desperate enough to resort to criminality. Only for someone to use your writing to shame other unfortunate people for not being as perfect as Oliver. Hurk- Pain- Dickens must be rolling in his grave.

She even called my "ideas" childish, like, I'm childish when you are literally not understanding basic human rights laws. Really?

Right, anyway, the point of this whole segue, is that people with Just World Fallacy (like that girl I argued with) actively creates people like Frederick. He's an incredibly unreliable narrator, except for one point. Frederick does, in fact, legitimately not know what he did wrong when he tried to belt whip a baby for crying. Encouraged him to open up about his childhood trauma from being an orphan in the 1890s.

If his wife had explained why that was an inappropriate response to him patiently, (yes, he would have resisted, scoffed at it too, but don't just quit gurl, change isn't easy) if she had taken the effort to teach him the correct way to handle a baby rather than level at him empty judgement, if she hadn't judged him as an evil man immediately upon being shocked by his “surprising vile action”, if she'd asked him why he thought that whipping a baby was correct.

Maybe he would've gotten better, maybe he could have learned. The reality is that judging other people as evil and beyond saving, and not trying to correct it, helps nobody. If you think something is wrong with the way he thinks or behaves, try to understand why he is the way he is and work on it with him. If you can't do anything about it or figure it out, or he resists very strongly, get help from others.

(There's also an important balance to strike with teaching or giving advice. See, you want to say, “you should do this”, but if you don't also say “it's okay to fail”, then you are actively discouraging a person from trying.

But if you say, “it's okay to fail”, you better fucking mean it. If the person trying fails after you said it's okay to fail and you immediately scold and shame them for failing, now they are probably never going to try again. Failing already feels bad, you don't need to make it worse.

Now, that's not to say the person shouldn't have to accept the consequences of the failure. They should, that's how you learn, but don't ADD shaming the person for it to the mix. Failure doesn't say anything inherent about a person. It doesn't make them stupid or evil, and it doesn't mean they weren't trying.

You can't read their mind, how do you know they “weren't trying”? Not all effort is visible, and some people have reasons to struggle more at things you think aren't that hard. People always need a reason to continue trying, something to strive for, otherwise they won't try.

This is why not turning Sebastian in is the correct choice, we see that after hitting the bad results of his actions, unlike Frederick, Sebastian was not arrogant and understood that forgiveness and mercy was something he could only beg for. He didn't blame Solomon (even though he'd have some grounds there if he did), he didn't blame Anne, or MC and Ominis for not stopping him. He expressed regret for his actions and his hope for grace.

He was willing to accept that he's made wrong decisions, acknowledging that, “you all believed in me, and I let you all down.” By showing him mercy, he takes responsibility for his actions and resolves to earn the second chance he was granted, saying “I know I can't change what I've done, but I can try every day to make up for it.”

It helps that Sebastian is still a child too, at 15 years of age, boys are still developing mentally and physically, and he has much room to grow. All this is 200% harder with an adult, especially one over 26, when the mind is already mostly made up. But, harder doesn’t mean impossible, my mom managed at 50+!)

Now, not everyone is in the position to help other people, of course. Not everyone has access to guidance and education (like the Keeper, and possibly Fredrick's wife) and your own safety comes first, you can't help others if you’re dead. His wife’s fear of Fredrick was legitimate and well founded, her belief that he was going to hurt her kids when he went for his wand was very reasonable and she was right to take her kids and flee the house, even if he hadn't intended to do harm. God, wands are terrible World Building, a gun, a pen, a knife, and a dishwasher all in one-

Basically, don't burn yourself to keep others warm, safety first. But also, don't write people off because it's easier and makes you feel good, makes you feel better than others. Gotta walk that thin boundary carefully.

I said, in parting to the girl on YouTube, and I will say it here.

I believe in rehabilitation. I believe in redemption and remorse. There is no point too far to turn back, no apology I will not accept. Life is a series of compromises with each other, with reality and with ourselves. The bar and the lines are different for everyone, sometimes we clash, and it’s nobody’s fault.

Is it scarier to live this way? Yes. One can never know if the second chance you give will be for nought and your effort will be wasted, and it's important to give second chances in a way that doesn't endanger yourself, and to use empiricism and pattern recognition to evaluate when to give out your second chances. Don't just dole it out blindly either, that's bad too, for both you and the recipient. Seek advice and guidance from professionals and those wiser when uncertain.

But whenever I can, I will always be willing to give forgiveness and second chances.

Because I know how important forgiveness is when you need it.

Also, Frederick's anger towards Vanessa isn't unfounded, in my opinion. Not because of being with a married man, (though come on, don't make it easy for them to cheat), Frederick is the one who made a vow to his wife, it's mostly on him for cheating. But because she used him for money and then discarded him. Sure, Frederick is awful but that doesn't make it okay to scam him. If you're gonna encourage him to leave his wife for you, you've made your bed, at least lie in it.

In the words of Dan Olson in his incredible video, This Is Financial Advice:

“It can be difficult to have empathy for apes (people like Frederick) because, frankly, a lot of them suck... It's tempting to look at them and think, ‘you know what, they brought this on themselves.’ But no-one deserves to be exploited... No-one deserves to have their ego and security ground down to the point that there’s no escape, no reason to step back and admit defeat, no reason to reflect.”

I think the reason I hate how things go if we turn Sebastian in, is because that's exactly what we do to him by choosing to send him to Azkaban. We give him no reason to step back, no reason to admit defeat and reflect. So he just gets angrier, at both goblins and dark wizards. His anger... no. We would have turned Sebastian into Frederick.

Everyone can be crushed, everyone has a breaking point, even someone as earnest, hardworking, determined, and committed to learning, as Sebastian. And I never want to be responsible for breaking someone else.

And, yes, these notes are extra-long because that argument on YouTube made me paranoid and anxious that people will misinterpret my work. My cope method is clearly over-explaining.

And this lesson continues in the next chapter, so... brace for more long notes, though I don’t think they’ll be quite as long x'D

Chapter Text

There was a faint click as the Keeper snapped a silver collar shut around the neck of one Frederick Taylor. His unconscious form sprawled out on a thin mattress in the third cell of Dìon's dungeons, chained by his wrists and ankles to the cot's metal frame.

Slipping a finger under Borgok's goblin silver collar, the Keeper tugged on it just once, confirming that it was loose enough to breathe while remaining secure, before straightening.

“Here you go.” Sebastian grinned, offering them an open jar of E-Pain energy.

Giving him a fond nod of thanks, the Keeper slipped their wand into the opening of the jar and withdrew the tiniest sliver of energy. Sebastian had always seemed oddly enthusiastic about helping them with their work. Even back when they were exploring together in fifth-year, and - aside from that one time he'd gotten impatient - it'd only become stronger as time passed.

They did wonder from time to time what Sebastian got out of being their faithful assistant, but it was cute enough that they didn't see the need to question it too much. Setting such thoughts aside, the Keeper cautiously lowered the small bubble of energy onto the band of silver and with a hiss the red smoke fizzled, melding into the metal and turning it bright red.

Before they could do anything else however, there was another faint click, and the Keeper leaned backwards in surprise, when the man let out a shriek and jolted awake, his eyes snapping wide open and his body going shock stiff. The Keeper observed with intrigue, the red that glowed in his pupils for a brief moment, before fading as he went limp, trembling on the mattress while sweat beaded on his brow.

“Well, a very good morning to you, Mr. Taylor.” The Keeper gave him a sardonic smirk. “Would you mind telling me what you're feeling?”

They could hear Sebastian snickering behind them, and Frederick's wide eyes darted about, his chest heaving for breath, and the collar around his neck - once again - empty and silver.

“Who- wher-” He gasped out, trying to move and, realising that his limbs were chained down, immediately began struggling against them.

“Your wife placed a bounty on your head, Mr. Taylor.” The Keeper explained, watching impassively as he froze, staring at them in shock. “I accepted the job and as such, you are now at my mercy.”

The man stared silently for several minutes, and they started to wonder if he was too hung over to think. See, that's why the Keeper never let their ol’ gov'nor push them into drinking alcohol. That shit was too unpredictable, and they'd never felt safe enough to try something that could potentially cost them their self-control.

Rather abruptly however, Frederick's face contorted with fury, and he practically launched himself from the cot, or at least attempted to, serving only to jostle the mattress and rattle his chains.

“I knew she still had money from her parents!” Frederick seethed, his face red with anger. “Fucking lying cunt!”

Sebastian and the Keeper both stared at him incredulously as he cursed and swore up a storm. Really? That was what the man was focused on?

Becoming irritated - when it didn't seem like he intended to stop anytime soon - the Keeper slapped him soundly across the face, glaring down at the pathetic man imperiously. “You seem to be under some misconceptions. Mrs. Taylor only offered me a percentage of your assets - as well as your person - in payment.”

To their surprise, the man glared back at them, his eyes crazed. “You really believe she can't afford to pay you? Didn't know mercenaries took charity jobs.”

“I'll sooner believe the woman offering me money than the man who beat his wife and killed his elf.” The Keeper scoffed.

Though, they supposed he did have a point, could they really say they were abiding by Ominis’ wish, for them to avoid targeting innocents, if they didn't verify guilt? A contractor could say anything after all. Perhaps they should do something more next time. This man, on the other hand, was already as good as convicted of the crime of abusing and murdering his elf.

“Elf? I didn't- it's- Tobbs is dead?” Frederick stared at them in disbelief and the Keeper sneered, he wasn't even denying the first allegation.

They ground their teeth together in anger. “You left your elf without supplies in a cave infested with spiders, what the fuck did you think was going to happen!?”

The Keeper's hand twitched with the itch to drive their Fear-coated dagger into his thigh, but they restrained themselves, it wouldn't do to put him into a coma before they'd run a few tests with the collar first.

“How’s it my fault if the elf died in there!?” The man spluttered. “Thought it could handle a few bugs. Them house elves are so damn powerful, and what do you care? The thing was my property, it's my business what I do with my elf and my bitch wife.”

Their vision went red, that indifference, irresponsibility, the fucking apathy.

Not my problem, I just hand out the rations, kid.

Don't bother me, I'm on break. Bein’ a bobby ain't easy, urchin. Now scram.

It's your own fault for fighting. Just give them what they want.

God only punishes the sinful, child. Think about what you might have done to deserve this, then pray for forgiveness and accept your punishment with humility.

Just because it doesn't hurt you. Lazy, callous, haughty ignorance that sealed the fate of those beneath these scum. Did the man think elves could cast magic when they were starving to death? No, he just didn't think, didn't care enough to think further than his own convenience.

Wilful stupidity was truly sickening. Letting one think themselves unburdened by the guilt and accountability of all the evil their very ignorance brought about and allowed to propagate. Turning away from the domino effects of their actions and inaction.

Ignorance is bliss only for the ignorant. It's hell for everyone else.

Pushing the problem to someone else over and over, and who gets left carrying the bag? The ones at the bottom of the rung, those whose only sin was being born there, those who did nothing but their best, and got nothing but hate and disregard. Close your eyes, look away, bury your head in the sand, but the problem remains, the suffering remains, and it just keeps getting passed on, growing larger and larger each time.

There's always someone further down the rung. Always someone to inherit all the pain and anger. All the injustice and cruelty.

High-minded filth, it burned within the Keeper's clenched fists, the near endless rage that only grew every time they had been kicked aside by people who could have helped them. Hollow eyes filled with disgust and mockery, looking at the Keeper like all the street children were beneath them.

Die. Every last one of you.

Sebastian's eyes widened when the Keeper went from standing stiffly by Frederick's cot, to strangling the life out of him within a split second. He was frozen for a moment in surprise, but at the man's choked gurgles, he moved forward to grasp their shoulder.

“Love, you know if you kill him we won't be able to run Ominis’ tests, right?” Sebastian chuckled nervously, freezing when he got a good look at their face under the dim light.

Their pupils had dilated into pinpricks, an almost rabid variant of enraged insanity that he'd never seen before, no joy, no distance, he didn't think they'd even heard him.

He'd seen them grinning wildly as they slaughtered Ashwinders, had seen their greedy and almost child-like delight when experimenting, their panic when they'd lost control of their magic, and their ecstasy when taking Pain energy or when he brought them pleasure. He'd seen their broken and lonely grief when the Hebridean Black died, he'd seen their cold analytical gaze, and even sadistic playfulness.

He'd seen so many sides of them, had so many different reactions to them, from arousal to pain to amusement.

Now, Sebastian felt something new prickling in his chest, fear.

There’d always been a sense about the Keeper, like they were somehow removed from everything that happened around them. Like they were watching the world play out before them with impassive interest, and he’d found that fascinating. Whatever they were experiencing now, however, was something visceral and almost familiar.

He wasn’t sure why, but the memory of casting the killing curse on his uncle flashed through his mind. He felt like what they were feeling was hurting them just as much as they were hurting Frederick right now, and - for the first time - Sebastian felt like that anger was standing between him and the Keeper, like a wall.

“Hey, love, you need to stop.” Sebastian reiterated, pulling at them and trying to pry their fingers from around the man's neck.

Now their attention finally turned to him, and for a brief second, he felt that fear spike when the anger in their eyes was also turned on him. His hands lost their grip on the Keeper’s, before something far more unexpected happened, pain bloomed on his cheek and the sound of impact rang in his ears, his vision abruptly turned to the side.

It took a few seconds of stunned silence for him to realise what had even happened, touching a hand to his cheek in disbelief, they'd just backhanded him.

His eyes flickered to the Keeper’s face and their horrified expression. He took an instinctive step backwards and they immediately flinched, before reaching out to him.

“S- Sebastian, I- I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't-” Their uncharacteristic stammer, the tremor in their voice, and their cold fingers brushing lightly against his hot cheek, snapped him out of his shock.

“It- it's okay.” Sebastian shook his head, taking their hand slowly. “I mean, we're even now.”

He chuckled weakly, thinking of the time he'd attacked them in the Undercroft when he was furious about Poppy and when he'd lashed out at them verbally on the mountain. They might not have blamed him for those incidents of him hurting them, but it didn't change the fact that he had.

He left their cold hand to rest on his cheek, and wrapped his arms around their waist, holding them close, listening to their shaky breaths by his ear. He knew better than most how easy it was to lose control when emotions are running high. To take an action that feels right in the moment, only to wish you could take it back when all was said and done.

The Keeper shook their head, trying to make sense of what just happened, they'd hit him. Sebastian. They'd hit Sebastian. How did that even happen-

They'd just- what was he thinking? Trying to stop them when they were this angry. No, it wasn't his fault. They'd lost control in front of him, of course he'd try to stop them. This was Sebastian, the bravest idiot they'd ever known. They couldn't blame him for their own loss of discipline.

They clutched at him, fingers clenching tight in the cloth on his back, burying their face in his shoulder. “I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you, I just- I was so angry-”

“I know. You were just trying to shake my hand off.” Sebastian's voice was soft and warm, understanding and gentle in their ear, and the Keeper took a deep breath, letting his steady presence calm their nerves.

There was relief mingled in the mess of feelings clogging up their brain, relief that Sebastian wasn’t angry or blaming them, gratitude that he was offering them comfort and support while they came to terms with what had happened. The deafening heartbeat pounding in their ears gradually quietening in his embrace.

To their immense irritation however, the coughing and choking man on the cot chose this moment to splutter. “W- what? Not gonna- not gonna finish the job? Fuckin’ psycho.”

The Keeper wondered to themselves if the man just had no survival instinct or if his brain had stopped working with a combination of alcohol and oxygen deprivation, but his next words gave them pause.

“Do it. Kill me, not like I have anything left. Fucking muggle bastards were right, guttersnipe like me have no future.” His mutterings were bitter and resigned. “If they hadn't died... if I'd been born to richer folk, or rich magical parents, I'd never have married that bitch, I'd have had everything I wanted, I'd have been happy, I wouldn't have ended up here...”

The Keeper stiffened at his words, a distant memory that they'd long buried surfacing in their mind. Spitting into the face of the man who would spend the next five years fucking their throat, using them and whoring them out to his lackies, screaming their defiance at fate.

...there's no difference! No difference between us! If I had what you have-

So, you think you'd do as well as me if you had my wealth, my power? Think you'd never need to beg again?

Better. I'd do better.

Very well, let's play a little game then, pretty bird...

They squeezed their eyes closed, pressing their face harder against Sebastian's shoulder, taking a deep breath of his scent, trying desperately to force the rest of that memory away, the disgust and fear they'd felt then. Icy phantom hands on their body, prying their thighs apart, touching places that made them want to vomit.

“Crucio.” Sebastian's voice was now hard and cold, rumbling from his chest under their ear, and the sound of Frederick screaming was soothing to their agitated heart.

They were safe now, they were powerful now, they had Sebastian and Ominis. The Keeper's skin prickled, they wanted to have Sebastian's warm hands on their body, wanted his nails to scrape away the lingering itch on their knees and thighs. Wanted to taste Ominis on their tongue again, wanted to vomit till their stomach was empty and fill themselves with Ominis and Sebastian instead.

The Keeper shook their head as the screams eventually ceased, struggling to suppress their thoughts. This wasn't the time for that, they'd come down here with a task. There was only a week of the Christmas holidays left, and they needed to focus if they wanted to reassure Ominis before school started again.

They loosened their grip on Sebastian, leaning back while he peered at their face with concerned eyes, and the Keeper sighed, giving him a soft kiss. “I'm alright now, thank you.”

“You sure?” He asked, brushing a hand over their hair gently and they could feel that touch in their heart.

With a strained smile, the Keeper nodded. “I just- he brought back some bad memories.”

“Do you... want to talk about it?” Sebastian asked tentatively, shifting on the spot with an adorable awkwardness.

They chuckled fondly, comforted to see that nothing had changed. “Maybe later. For now… I should probably get back to work.”

The Keeper pulled out a wiggenweld and offered it to Sebastian, who gave them a bemused grin that clearly said, ‘really? Me first? The one who got an accidental smack, not the guy you strangled and I then subsequently crucio-ed’.

Shrugging, the Keeper gave him a smirk, which got them a soft huff and an eye roll, before he took the vial and raised it to his lips while they turned their attention back to Frederick. It was... surprising that the man was perhaps not the well-off fucker that they'd expected.

A part of them was deeply unsettled to find that the pathetic creature lying on that cot was like them, that someone who'd survived coming from the streets could become exactly like the people who'd oppressed them. It challenged their belief that only those who had not suffered like they had, could be so unconscious, so uncaring of the suffering of others.

They'd thought it was their suffering that separated them from the other entitled spoiled children that ran about Hogwarts. That their roots were the source of the rift between them and the people who didn't understand how fortunate they were, but perhaps not.

This man had the same understanding of the world that the Keeper had, that one's birth and circumstances dictated their lives, yet it didn't make him more aware of the suffering of those beneath him. He hadn't learnt the same lessons they had.

What was different? They wondered. Being admitted to Hogwarts at eleven instead of fifteen? Was that enough to change his trajectory so vastly? The Keeper knew they couldn't take full credit for all their achievements, a lot of them were only achievable thanks to their fortune and the power they'd been born with.

They did however, take pride in their efforts to make the most of the opportunities they'd been given, all the hard work and constant struggle to become stronger, smarter, and wiser. Sebastian had shown that same dedication to personal growth, as had Ominis even in spite of his fear of change. Perhaps for reasons unknowable to them, Frederick simply hadn't and thus never came to this realisation.

The Keeper shook their head, whatever the case, these were questions they would never get an answer to. The man had essentially murdered Tobbs, beaten his wife and left his child to be torn apart by a wolf. With that track record, leaving a man like him to his own devices would likely result in yet more harm, but it didn't matter how he'd ended up here. Not to them at least, not anymore.

Regardless of the path he'd been placed upon, Frederick had ended up in their way thanks to his mistakes and, unfortunately for him, those mistakes made him someone they could use, without hurting Ominis. The Keeper needed a test subject to protect their interests and unlike Fredrick, they weren't going to blame anyone else for what they were about to do.

This had nothing to do with justice or righteousness or moral high ground, nor because he deserved this fate, he was simply going to suffer and die for their future.

For the future that they needed, and anyone else in their way would suffer the same fate.

That was all anyone could do.

Taking a deep breath, the Keeper set aside their thoughts and musings, taking the half-empty vial that Sebastian returned to them and carrying it over to Frederick.

“Unfortunately for you, you're no good to me dead. Open your mouth.” The Keeper ordered the wary man lying on the cot and when he made no move to follow their instruction, they narrowed their eyes sharply. “This is either going down your throat or your windpipe. Choose.”

Taking their warning seriously, the man opened his mouth, and they dumped the remaining wiggenweld into it unceremoniously, before setting aside the empty vial and picking the jar of E-Pain energy up again.

The collar had activated and injected the Pain immediately last time, even though they hadn't pressed anything or cast any spell. What had activated it? The Keeper frowned as they extracted another tiny bulb of energy with their wand, before setting the jar down and grabbing Frederick by the hair to hold him in place, while they refilled the collar.

Once again, however, the collar immediately injected all its E-Pain till it was depleted.

They ground their teeth in frustration, what were they doing wrong? They'd even gone with E-Pain rather than any other variants, so that it would be as close to what Ranrok had worked with as possible. There also didn't seem to be any change in the collar once energy was added, how did Ranrok tell the collar not to inject? Or when to inject?

The Keeper continued trying three more times, with varying amounts of energy, but the results remained the same. Each time, the collar immediately injected every drop of energy bound within it, and every time, it caused Frederick visible amounts of pain.

“Argh!” The Keeper kicked one of the cot's legs in frustration. “Why does it keep releasing immediately?”

“How about we take a break for now? We can have tea with Ominis and try again after we're refreshed.”

The Keeper didn't need to look to tell that Sebastian's expression was concerned, and while they itched to snap that they were fine, they knew it wasn't true. They were still on edge after what happened and they would be the biggest hypocrite if they told Ominis to get some sleep to refresh himself three days ago, and didn't follow their own advice.

Taking a breath and forcing down their pride, the Keeper swallowed and turned to give him a stiff nod. “You're right. We can come back after tea.”

Sebastian gave them a hopeful smile and held up their satchel for them to drop the jar into. With a grateful nod, the Keeper took their satchel and led the way out of the cell towards the staircase. They could leave Frederick chained to the cot for now, since they would be coming back in just an hour or so.

Still, it was hard to imagine that a break would help, this was the first time they'd absolutely no leads whatsoever and it was indescribably frustrating.

As they climbed the stairwell, the sound of Sebastian's footsteps came to a halt behind them, and the Keeper stopped as well. “Sebastian? Is something wrong?”

His expression was troubled. “What that man said earlier. Am I doing the same thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“He blamed his wife, his parents, for the mistakes he's made. He blamed his elf for not protesting his own negligence.” Sebastian's expression became pained. “I-”

He sat down on a step and the Keeper slowly lowered themselves to sit beside him, brows furrowed in concern.

“I've been having this thought.” Sebastian whispered, like a confession. “That I wish Anne had told me that she didn't want me to save her at all costs. Am I doing the same thing? Blaming a victim for not telling me that she didn't approve of what I was doing? Should I have pressed harder till she told me the truth, was I the negligent one? Should I have stopped?”

“No.” The Keeper shook their head. “I highly doubt Frederick's wife encouraged him to hit her, in contrast, Anne acted like she wanted to be cured. I was there, I saw how excited and hopeful she was when you brought her a Shrivelfig. I heard her agree to the ritual, even after you told her it required a dark sacrifice. It's not your fault you believed what she was showing and saying.”

Sebastian watched them silently, and they took his hand. “She told me that she knew you meant well, she just didn't believe that it was possible to break the curse, she believed Solomon. That's why Anne felt your actions were not worth the risk, it's not your fault she agreed with Solomon. We'll show her that it's possible and I'm sure it'll change her mind.”

His eyes were starting to regain some of their brightness, and the Keeper placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “You're nothing like that pathetic man. Anne changed her mind and didn't explain herself to you or give you the chance to change course. It's perfectly reasonable for you to wish she had been honest with you.”

They still remembered the look on Anne's face when Sebastian killed the goblin with Imperio to save her life. That was probably the point when her view of him had started to change. That look of fear, like she didn't know him. She'd stopped trusting him, and for what? Saving her life in a societally unacceptable way?

How was what Sebastian did any different from killing the goblin with a blade? Or Solomon, who was also killing the attacking goblins - just with legal spells - or the villagers who used cabbages to do the same? It wasn't like Sebastian had been violent towards her like Frederick had his wife.

Anne never even tried to talk about her misgivings with Sebastian or Ominis or even the Keeper themselves, if she was worried about Sebastian, she could've said something. There were so many things Anne could have done besides simply agreeing to the ritual when Sebastian told her about it. Though, they knew why she hadn't, because deep down, she did want to be cured. Of course, who wouldn't?

Even so, if you say and do one thing, but mean another, you can't blame the other person for failing to read your mind and figure out what you really mean. If you don't state your boundaries and limits clearly, you don't get to be righteously furious when someone steps over them.

It wasn't her fault for being torn, but it was on her for not communicating her feelings and boundaries to Sebastian.

“Thanks, I think I've been needing to hear that for a while.” Sebastian sighed, giving them a grateful smile. “You're right, as usual. And it's not like I didn't try other things. I mean, I am fascinated by Dark Magic, but I did try everything else I could think of. I know the healers know more healing magic than I could ever know, so I was looking at every unconventional method I could find.”

“Yeah, you begged me to use my Ancient Magic when that seemed like a feasible solution.” In a way that had shown how much he believed in them too, the Keeper returned his smile fondly, a pang of sadness in their heart… and how little he thought anyone could care about him.

Please. If not for me, then for Anne.

The Keeper had wanted to laugh in disbelief, silly boy, they had far less reason to risk antagonising the Elder Keepers for Anne, than they did Sebastian himself. He had done so much for them already by then, it was so sad that Sebastian didn't think his earnestness and effort would inspire any sort of reciprocation from them.

That Anne would somehow be favoured by them purely for... what? Being a girl? For looking weak and pitiful? For dying from a curse? There were so many innocent children dying on the streets every day. If the world worked that way, there would be far less suffering than there was.

The Keeper wondered if Sebastian had expected that because his uncle favoured her for reasons he couldn’t understand. They kind of wanted to ask, but...

“Speaking of Ancient Magic, why not try using it on the collar? Or maybe try using Frederick's own pain to fill his collar?” Sebastian asked, his eyes sliding off to the side, and the Keeper understood that he was trying to change the subject.

Well, that was fine, Sebastian was the type to think further on his own over time, the Keeper gave him a small smile but shook their head. “Ranrok didn't have Ancient Magic, nor any means to extract E-Pain, so that's unlikely to be the solution. Though it's certainly a brilliant idea to try using his own E-Pain, I'll do that when I figure out how the collar works. Good thinking.”

Face brightening at the praise, Sebastian got to his feet and offered them a hand. “Let's talk about this with Ominis then, he might have some ideas too.”

The Keeper nodded and took his hand, letting him pull them up, and the two went together to find their pretty boyfriend.

It took a while, but they eventually found Ominis in the first-floor library.

The Keeper poked their head through the wooden doors, spotting the blond standing by the northern wall, through the hollow rows of yet empty bookshelves. Before they could even call out, Sebastian flew past them - and the shelves - tackling Ominis with a big bear hug, while the Keeper followed at a more sedate pace.

“I was starting to wonder if I would be having tea alone today.” Ominis gave an exasperated chuckle as Sebastian peppered his face with happy kisses.

“You can thank Sebastian for dragging my arse up here.” The Keeper gave him a fond grin, before looking up at the portrait that Ominis had been mounting on the wall. “This is a good spot. Good afternoon, Professor Fig.”

“It's very nice to see you again, my young friend.” The elderly man in the painting smiled down at the Keeper with familiar warm eyes, and they felt a twinge of pain in their chest at the sight. “I'm told that you were with me in my last moments, I'm very sorry that you have to carry that.”

“It's been difficult, and I'll admit to having missed you more than I expected.” The Keeper shrugged and was rather happy to see that the portrait - bearing Fig's memories - understood their brand of affectionate humour too.

Fig beamed proudly, and clasped his hands together with that boyish enthusiasm that often had them forgetting that he was almost a century older than them. “I'll never be a replacement, but I'll do my best to give you the support he would have.”

The Keeper gave him a grateful nod. “How far back do your memories go?”

“Just after you went to subdue the Lord of the Shore.” The portrait answered with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “I stopped by my portrait for the last time, before going to meet you in the map chamber.”

“Alright, I'll extract my memories of you - past that point - and stop by later to give them to you.” The Keeper nodded.

“Excellent, I appreciate you giving my secondary frame a wonderful view of the sunrise, and I look forward to hearing how your adventure with the Graphorn unfolded!” Fig bounced in his portrait with palpable excitement and the Keeper could feel the empty place in their heart finally begin to ache a little less.

If only they could have a portrait of Lodgok too, but no witch or wizard would paint a goblin, and once more, they cursed the senseless bigotry against goblinkind.

“You subdued a graphorn!?” Ominis exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes filled with alarm.

The Keeper chuckled, reminded that the boys were still present and observing the interaction with interest. “Yes, I still have the Lord of the Shore in my vivarium back in Hogwarts’ room of requirement.”

“You own a graphorn!?” Sebastian exclaimed in amazement, his eyes wide with excitement.

The Keeper laughed and patted Sebastian on the head. “You'll get to see him when our vivariums are ready for me to move them into. Wait till you see my phoenix.”

“A phoenix... that's incredible. How did you find something so rare?” Ominis murmured and the Keeper was rather relieved that he wasn't kicking up a fuss about the graphorn. Maybe he thought they'd managed to win it over without a fight, and they certainly weren't going to correct him, unless he asked directly.

“There were poachers after it and Deek asked me to rescue it.” The Keeper answered simply with a shrug.

“Ugh, wish we could visit the legendary Room of Requirement to see what it looks like.” Sebastian grumbled, dropping his chin on Ominis’ shoulder.

“Maybe closer to our graduation, when Professor Weasley isn't as much of a concern.” The Keeper grinned wryly, and Sebastian glanced at the portrait with some uncertainty, but to his apparent surprise, Fig didn't seem disapproving of their words, in fact...

“A wise choice!” The portrait of Fig laughed. “And I am certain she won't mind you sharing the secret before you graduate, it'll be your last chance to see the wonders of Hogwarts. And, strict as she may be, Professor Weasley understands what the school means to many of its students.”

“I'll take your word for it, sir.” The Keeper chuckled and before they could speak further, Sebastian's stomach made a soft sound. Giving him an amused smile, they pressed a kiss to his pink cheek. “Shall we head to tea then?”

“It certainly sounds like we should.” Ominis giggled, drawing a pout from Sebastian for their amusement at his expense, before Ominis pressed his palms together, beaming happily. “Oh, and Tibsy said she made cheesecake for tea today, the milk finally finished ageing.”

Wearing an eager grin, Sebastian made no protest as the blond took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. The Keeper was about to follow, when the portrait spoke again.

“I see that you've become very close to Mr Gaunt and Mr Sallow.” Fig smiled softly. “I'm glad that you've found people to love.”

“I-” The Keeper paused, swallowing around the thickness in their throat, thinking of what they'd done only a while ago in Frederick's cell. “I'm- I thought... I thought I knew what that meant. But I'm not sure I do. I'll admit that I’m becoming scared. I have so much power. I'm not sure I'm the right person to wield it. I'm not sure I won't accidentally hurt those I love.”

The professor's eyes were sad and sympathetic. “You can never really know if you'll hurt others in the pursuit of your goals, no matter how well intentioned. My dearest Miriam didn't intend to leave me, but she was only human, and we all make mistakes. I cannot tell you how deeply I wish I'd stopped her.”

They closed their eyes, they'd hurt Ominis this way too. Even Sebastian both had and had been.

Fig smiled. “But I say that only with the knowledge that she would not come home. I know, deep down, that I never would have stopped her. While the result caused me grief, I do not begrudge her for chasing Ancient Magic, thinking only of the good it could do. I don't blame her for doing what she believed in, even if it ended up hurting me. I'm sure they feel the same way, as do you.”

The Keeper gazed into his eyes as the professor spoke. “Don't expect yourself to be perfect, it is not possible to be truly worthy of power, we can only try our best with the power that is given to us.”

Nodding slowly, the Keeper allowed his words to sink in and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for your advice. It’s good to have you back, Professor.”

“You are most welcome, my young friend.” The elderly portrait beamed brightly as the sound of footsteps returned.

“Rove? Yu comin’?” Sebastian called out, his mouth full of cheesecake as he poked his head back into the library, brown eyes peering curiously at them.

“I'll see you later then, Professor.” The Keeper gave Fig a nod of farewell and followed the brunet out of the library.

“...so, Sebastian suggested that we take a break, and we left to find you.” The Keeper took a sip of their tea, still feeling slightly uncomfortable after explaining what had happened in Fredrick’s cell, but at least it was over and done with. Though they'd left out Sebastian’s casting of the Cruciatus curse in their retelling.

“I swear, it barely hurt. I was more startled than anything else.” Sebastian insisted, before shoving the last bite of his cheesecake into his mouth, and the Keeper gave him a grateful smile.

“Well, I'm glad that you returned to your senses without anything worse occurring.” Ominis frowned with some concern. “It must have been a pretty awful memory he brought back.”

“...memories. He reminded me of the people who turned a blind eye to suffering. My suffering.” The Keeper sighed. “But I guess, I now see how easy it could have been, to turn out like him.”

“Well, you didn't. And that's what matters.” Ominis’ voice was firm, and the Keeper considered the likelihood that he often worried about such possibilities too. It was pretty high.

“Yeah, if you had, we probably wouldn't be here.” Sebastian nodded, leaning over to steal a bit of Ominis’ cheesecake with his fork, only for the blond to catch him by the wrist, his eyes narrow, and Sebastian retreated with a pout.

“I'm not sure if that's reassuring or not.” The Keeper chuckled.

“It should be, it means we wouldn't be interested in having anyone else in your spot.” Sebastian shrugged and took a drink of his tea.

“Guess I’ll have to work hard to keep you two invested.” The Keeper leaned back in their seat with a wry smile.

“Don't overdo it though, taking a break isn't the same as quitting.” Ominis had a knowing glint in his eyes as he said this, and Sebastian's face lit up, when Ominis cut the remainder of his cheesecake in half and held it up in his direction.

Watching with a fond smile, as Sebastian happily took the offered bite, the Keeper nodded. “I'll keep that in mind. Though, speaking of working hard, I plan to ask future contractors to provide evidence of guilt, memories perhaps. I didn't need to do so with Frederick, since I already know his crimes, but I won't necessarily for future jobs. I'll need to do my part to keep my promise.”

Ominis’ eyes widened with some surprise, before a pleased smile covered his face.

“I see, well, I very much appreciate the effort. And for my part, I've almost finished putting up the portraits.” The blond paused to pat Sebastian on the head. “Just left the three in the Keep and Anne's primary portrait, to be put up in your study.”

“I can do that later.” Sebastian nodded, his eyes slightly distant, perhaps thinking about his sister again.

“Thank you, for setting them up while Sebastian and I were occupied these last three days.” The Keeper leaned over to give Ominis a kiss on the cheek and the corners of his eyes crinkled happily at the gesture.

The Keeper and Sebastian had taken some time - before they'd gone to find the Rowdy Rogue - to walk the castle walls. Looking for the best places to put up portraits, that would facilitate quick communication and allow the portraits to perform some level of lookout capability. Then they'd left the actual placing to Ominis and gone about their work.

As per their order, the three commissioned artworks had arrived with three linked replicas each, allowing each portraits’ subjects to travel between three separate frames. It'd cost them a small fortune to afford three of each, for a total of nine portraits, but hopefully the surveillance they could provide would be worth the price.

They'd already visited Eleazar Fig's primary portrait in the first-floor Library, and his secondary was placed in the outer wall's Southeastern flanking tower, positioned so that he could survey their territory from a window.

The Keeper watched as Sebastian's gaze drifted to the portrait of his parents that hung just across the room, on the wall a few metres from the wash closet, in view of both the dinner table and the tea corner where the throuple were having their refreshments.

While the dining hall was still in dire need of decorating, they'd already outfitted the room with an elegant mahogany dinner table and eight high backed chairs. As well as a small round tea table with four little mid backed chairs - which they were seated at - flanked by another two armchairs, and a sofa, backed up against the wall that stood between the dining hall and the workshop.

The furniture was mostly mahogany with a blend of Slytherin colours bandied about, in honour of their Hogwarts house and they felt like the portrait gave it a more homely feel. The late Mr and Mrs Sallow shared their primary frame in this hall, while their secondary was placed in the outer wall's Eastern flanking tower, and the Keeper felt a pang of sympathy at the wistful glassiness in Sebastian's eyes as he gazed at them.

Honestly, the Keeper wasn't sure they'd feel anything if they ever found a portrait of the people who'd brought them into this world, but it was nice to imagine that they would. At the very least, they'd be grateful to have had the chance to honour the unknown couple for allowing the Keeper to meet Sebastian and Ominis.

The tertiary portraits of all the artworks they owned, would be placed in the Keep tower to the northwest, in the room where Anne's tertiary portrait would be keeping a lookout, while her primary portrait was in Sebastian's study and her secondary portrait was in Ominis’ study.

This would allow the Keep tower to serve as a communication centre, so that - should any of the portraits spot something suspicious in their direction - they could alert Anne, who could then bring the information to either boy's study, or pass the message to Fig if the Keeper or their partners were in the Library, or the Sallow couple if they were in the dining hall. Not to mention, if the portraits could get the attention of the elves, it would also make it easier to send the message to the Keeper.

While they still hadn't acquired Noctua Gaunt's portrait yet, once they did, her primary portrait would be placed in Ominis’ study, with her secondary portrait placed in the outer wall's Southwestern flanking tower, to cover what was currently a blind spot.

“Will the two of you be free after tea?” Ominis asked casually. “Since your latest job is done, I thought we might take an evening constitutional down to the lake and then perhaps warm up together by the fireplace before dinner.”

The Keeper grimaced, they hated to disappoint him, but. “Sorry, I'm not sure I can afford to, I thought to have a light dinner in the dungeons so I could continue working on the collar. We have but a week left before school reopens, and I think it's more urgent that I figure out how the collar works and what makes it different from the armlet. That we may test the effects of C-Pain overdose on Macnair and put your mind at ease.”

Ominis’ lips pursed into a thin line. “Have you got any leads?”

“Not really.” The Keeper sighed, rubbing the bridge of their nose to ease the headache that was already returning. “I still have no clue what triggers the collar to activate. It just keeps injecting all the E-Pain immediately.”

Ominis heaved his own sigh as well, frustrated that he hadn't gotten to spend as much time with his workaholic partners as he'd hoped to this holiday. They were always busy with something or another, and since they'd been taking Sebastian with them to work, he'd been left alone in the quiet castle with his thoughts and worries, more often than he'd like.

At the same time, he appreciated that they were putting in all this effort with him in mind, so he couldn’t exactly begrudge them for doing what he'd asked them to. He rather resented being put in this position. Honestly, how had he ended up living with two partners, yet almost never got to go on relaxing dates with them?

“Well, I doubt I'll have much more to contribute with regards to the collar. If my lonesome would be enough, I can take that walk with you, Ominis.” Sebastian suggested tentatively, clearly hoping to take some of the pressure off the Keeper.

Ominis’ eyes widened in surprise, he’d have thought Sebastian would rather experiment with the Keeper than take a boring walk with him, and he felt a pinch of shame for feeling bad for himself and merely whinging about the situation in his mind. He’d heard the apologetic tone in the Keeper’s voice, and it wasn’t like he had any reason to feel like they just couldn’t be bothered to spend time with him, they probably weren’t eager to have dinner in a dank dungeon cell either.

Though, he knew that if he said anything, his partners would assure him that it was understandable to feel frustrated about the situation, and then offer him the choice of having them spend the evening with him or continuing their work, and he wasn’t exactly eager to take on the responsibility if his selfishness delayed their tests past the holiday.

So, folding his arms, Ominis decided to think instead, of ways to get their work done faster, so they would be free to spend more time with him. What were they least likely to have tried already? He knew the Keeper was proud, and that both they and Sebastian suffered from the tendency to forget that prior wisdom could still be useful, even if circumstances weren’t always the same.

“Have you tried asking the Elder Keepers for assistance?” Ominis suggested after a moment. “Professor Rackham was Isidora's teacher, wasn't he? Perhaps he might be able to offer some insight.”

The Keeper hummed thoughtfully and Ominis continued. “Sebastian and I can take that walk to the lake together, before warming up by the bedroom fireplace, then perhaps you can join us for dinner at least?”

“Of course.” The Keeper nodded, seeing and appreciating that he was trying to compromise. “If I manage to make some progress with the Professors and get this done quickly, we can at least spend Christmas day together next week.”

To their relief, Ominis’ face brightened at their agreement. In all honesty, the Keeper didn't think Rackham would be of much assistance, it wasn't like he'd ever interacted with Pain energy himself. Though they supposed it was possible that Fitzgerald might have some ideas, since Isidora had been closer to her, but they were also reluctant to make the cautious elders aware of their intentions to use Pain energy as a means of controlling their test subjects.

That being said however, they weren't going to make the mistake of dismissing a suggestion from Ominis out of hand, again. Especially when they could see that they were already treading on thin ice with him.

They'd just have to think of a way to broach the problem with the Elder Keepers, perhaps it wasn't the worst time to start easing the portraits into accepting the direction they were headed...

The Keeper's steps were slow and thoughtful as they made their way through the second Basement floor, before stopping outside the room that they'd placed the Elder Keepers’ portraits in, just to the left of Sebastian's study.

Knocking twice, they opened the door and poked their head in. “Professors?”

The inside of the room was rather long and, on the slightly concave false wall, stood the four portraits, whose eyes tracked the Keeper as they entered the chamber.

“Well, it's a surprise to see you outside our classes at my secondary portrait, what can we do for you?” Professor Rackham greeted with a smile.

The Keeper blinked at the professor, now that he’d mentioned it, this was indeed the first time they'd sought his counsel rather than instruction, perhaps they'd be able to use that to their advantage.

“I have acquired an artefact that was made by Ranrok and I'm struggling to figure out how it works.” The Keeper answered, bowing their head respectfully. “I was hoping to seek your guidance and experience.”

“An artefact of Ranrok's!?” Rookwood exclaimed. “How come you by such a thing?”

“His uncle happens to be Sebastian's blacksmithing mentor.” The Keeper explained, they would keep the details vague for this one, the portraits didn't need to know that they'd committed murder to acquire it.

“A goblin instructing a wizard in smithing? What an unprecedented arrangement.” Fitzgerald murmured thoughtfully.

“And why is your lover cavorting with a relative of the goblin who sought to abuse the fruits of Isidora's crimes?” Bakar, of course, demanded.

“I think it should be obvious enough that Ranrok's uncle isn't like him, given that he's teaching a human goblin-craft.” The Keeper rolled their eyes, and, to his credit, Bakar seemed to concede the point with a tilt of his head. “He knows nothing of Pain energy, so you needn't be overly concerned.”

“But what is this artefact and what do you seek to do with it?” Rackham asked with a small frown, clearly more concerned about their intentions, which was reasonable.

“It is a device designed to forcefully inject Pain energy into a person, causing pain to its wearer. However, I've been unable to figure out how to control it.” The Keeper grimaced. “It keeps injecting all the energy I place in it immediately.”

The reactions were, as expected, varying levels of outrage and shock, and the Keeper simply endured the cacophony of exclamations until the portraits stopped speaking over each other.

“That sounds to me like you're already using it!” Rookwood's voice finally rose in clarity above the rest and the Keeper sighed.

“Look, you’ve already given me ample warning that I do not know the effects of consuming this energy, that I can't control it.” The Keeper shrugged. “And you're right. I don't know, and I can't control it till I do. So, I'm finding out.”

“At the expense of someone else!?” Rookwood exclaimed, aghast.

“Should I just risk my own corruption and death then?” The Keeper snapped and the portraits went rather abruptly silent. “Shall I stroll into the maw of the unknown and leave the Repository unguarded in a room in Hogwarts, just waiting for a child to wander across?”

As they spoke, Bakar's perpetually hostile and suspicious expression seemed to change, and the Keeper thought they saw a glimmer of what looked an awful lot like respect, beginning to form in his eyes. Which was ridiculous, of course, so they pushed the thought aside and continued.

“Your trials are all solved and beaten, and you are all here, buried in a fortress in the middle of nowhere. There is no path laid out for a future Ancient Mage. You've gambled everything on me.” The Keeper spread their arms wide with a sardonic smile. “Shall I die and take it all with me to the grave?”

The room was still and silent for many long moments, as the corner the Elders had been forced into, sank in.

“If it's any consolation, the man I'm testing it on is a murderer and a cheat. A man who regularly beat his wife and starved his elf, a thief and a drunkard.” The Keeper shrugged. “And the one who will experience an overdose in my place, is the bugger who spent a year trying to kill me.”

“Committing crimes doesn't mean they deserve torture and death.” Rookwood narrowed his eyes sternly at them. “You don't have the authority to judge.”

“And who does?” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at him. “A well-paid court judge? The victim? Let's not pretend anyone truly has the right to cast judgement, I am merely choosing to sacrifice the lesser of two evils. Or in this case, the greater of two evils. Better to sacrifice someone further down the ladder to hell, than an innocent, no?”

“Nobody should be sacrificed at all!” Rookwood declared.

“Ah yes, nobodies like Richard Jackdaw and everyone else who might have stumbled into the trial grounds, right?” The Keeper sneered. “At least I pick my victims.”

“That- that wasn't- we were doing what was necessary!” Rookwood shook his head.

“Oh, I see, that makes it alright then.” The Keeper scoffed. “Well, I've decided that this is necessary too.”

“That's why you shouldn't meddle further in this to begin with! What's necessary keeps growing!” Rookwood slammed a fist on the side of his frame. “You need to stop. If this needs sacrifices, then find another way.”

“There isn't always another way. I think that they have a point here.” To everybody's surprise, it was Bakar who spoke next, his eyes regarding Rookwood with a solemn weight. “What has four hundred years of waiting gotten us? Sometimes, one must weigh the scales and choose who should be prioritised.”

The portraits stared at Bakar, the Keeper included, before it clicked in their mind.

Bakar had chosen to cast the killing curse on Isidora, despite knowing how deeply Rackham would grieve for the child he had practically raised. Despite the dishonour of killing her from behind, for a man so proud, that must have been a difficult decision. Yet Bakar had chosen to kill the woman that he too had taught as a child, a woman who was hurt and broken, to save his friends and the innocent children of Hogwarts.

The greater of two evils.

“Thank you, Professor Bakar.” The Keeper smiled.

The man narrowed his eyes at them and folded his arms. “Don't mistake me, I still remain unconvinced that you are not merely another power-hungry craven. I simply agree that it would be in everyone's best interests to keep you alive, to safeguard the Repository. For now.”

The Keeper snorted, well, they'd take it.

“Percival, please say something.” Rookwood turned to Rackham, his voice quite distressed, and in all honesty, the Keeper was surprised that it was the affable rotund man who was so resistant. Then again, Professor Rookwood was also the one who had been swayed by his guilt for his descendant's sin of cursing Anne. Emotions were always so fickle and unpredictable.

Rackham sighed. “I'm afraid I have to agree with San Bakar...”

“...Percival...” Rookwood murmured with a frown.

“We can't pretend we didn't make the same choice.” Rackham wore a bitter smile. “Just because we didn't swing the blade ourselves, doesn't mean we didn't kill young Mr Jackdaw.”

“We must protect the Repository from falling into the hands of someone we have no influence over, or allow it to corrupt innocent children.” Fitzgerald nodded slowly. “We cannot simply wish for reality to not be as it is, we made our choice, and we must do our best with our lot.”

“We can but trust that our friend here will constrain themselves to what is needed and no more.” Rackham eyed the Keeper expectantly. “And they have not yet given us reason to doubt them.”

“Yet.” Bakar added.

Rookwood sighed. “If that is the consensus, I will protest no further, but I don't like your attitude towards sacrifice, child.”

“I'm simply used to sacrifice. Should I cry for you? We both know it wouldn't change reality.” The Keeper huffed and folded their arms. “Are we done? Can we get back to the problem at hand?”

When there came no response, the Keeper fished out a collar from their satchel and dangled it from their fingers for the portraits to see. “As you can see, there aren't any buttons on it, there's just a needle on its inner side.”

“And you say it immediately injects any energy placed in it?” Rackham pinched his chin between a thumb and forefinger.

“Yes. I need to figure out how to control its output.” The Keeper nodded. “I thought you might have some insight into the workings of such magic.”

Rackham hummed. “All Magic is neutral. Like a rock that rolls down a hill, there is no intent, simply action and reaction. You've said that Pain energy seeks out a host.”

“That's what I've observed.” The Keeper nodded again. “It seems like Pain energy is drawn to itself, not unlike gravity's pull.”

“It could be that the energy is simply following its nature in absence of human will.” Fitzgerald murmured thoughtfully.

“Indeed, it is the will of a caster that gives magic purpose. We align magic with our will.” Rackham explained.

“But that's magic that comes from us.” The Keeper frowned in some confusion. “This is Pain, an emotion, a sensation, can it even have will?”

“Is not everything humans produce part of a cycle?” Rackham asked with a small smile. “We can't cast magic if we're too weak to do so. What gives us strength? Food, water, time consumed for rest. We convert resources from the world into magic within our bodies. Every magical creature does this, even goblins.”

“Well said, Professor, even emotion comes from us and can be directed, we channel our feelings into our work, after all.” Fitzgerald agreed.

The Keeper's eyes widened, the memory of Ranrok blasting red smoky energy from his palms flashing through their mind.

“...I see! I need to absorb the energy first, align it with my will and then pour it into the vessel! Thank you, Professors!” Shoving the collar back into their satchel, the Keeper sprinted from the room, excitement pumping through their veins.

They needed to test it out. Now.

“Sorry to make you wait, Frederick, I hope you didn't need to use the loo.” The Keeper grinned as they re-entered the cell. “It'd be annoying to have to clean your mattress if you should soil yourself.”

The man watched them warily as they stood beside the cot, and they gave him a wry smirk. “Don't worry, this will be quick. I have a dinner date to get to.”

They pulled out a jar of E-Pain and took a sliver of it, breathing it into their body and holding it, like one would hold their breath, their mind filled with a single instruction; Empty all energy into subject when he speaks.

Then they placed the tip of their wand at their lips and opened their mouth, blowing the smoke back out and collecting it with their wand. The bubble of red and black smoke still looked completely unchanged, and with a pinch of anxiety, the Keeper lowered it to the collar around Frederick's neck.

The man whimpered in fear, clearly expecting the pain that would come after it was filled, though, hopefully that wouldn't happen. The energy fizzled and bubbled as it melded into the collar, and for a long anticipatory moment, the Keeper watched Frederick, half expecting him to jolt in pain.

But it didn't happen.

“Yes!” The Keeper crowed with victory and Frederick flinched at the sudden shout. “It worked!”

“Wha-” He gasped in confusion, only for the collar to click and then he was choking on the word, thrashing and wheezing with pain as the collar emptied its meagre contents into his body.

The Keeper stumbled back with a giddy laugh, they'd have to take a few minutes later to suck Ominis off for suggesting that they ask the Elder Keepers for guidance. What an amazing way to be reminded that, just because he was often swayed by emotion and could be rather irrational, that didn't mean he couldn’t also be brilliant and still be correct. God, they loved the prissy blond.

They'd probably need to have Ominis scan their body as they filled the collar to be certain, but they didn't feel like they'd taken a hit either. A pity, but at least that meant that they wouldn't need to worry about messing up their dose schedule. Thank Merlin for that too, stepping down their dosage felt god awful.

Chuckling, the Keeper extracted a larger bulb of E-Pain - a little over twice the prior amount - gazing at it and wondering to themselves how they'd portion it out. Percentage? No, that would cause each violation of instructions to have a diminishing impact. Duration of effects? Ooh, that might work, the slivers seemed to last for about ten seconds, they could go with five seconds then.

Raising the bulb to their nose, they inhaled it, instructing the energy to; Inject five seconds worth of energy every time he lifts his leg. They then placed the energy - which should be good for four injections - into the collar, amused when the man flinched, trembling as they unlocked the cuff around his ankle.

“Lift your leg.” The Keeper instructed and for a moment the man hesitated, so they pointed their wand at him. “Lift it or you'll get to see how my Cruciatus compares with my boyfriend's.”

Flinching, Frederick lifted his foot off the mattress, and it promptly slammed right back down when the collar activated. One, two, three, four, fiv-

The man coughed and wheezed as his body went limp. Excellent, that worked. Next, the Keeper bodily grabbed the man's ankle and forcefully lifted it off the mattress. Immediately, the collar activated again. So, it also applied if someone else physically forced him to take the action, now, what about magical?

“Imperio.” The Keeper levelled their wand at Frederick and a dopey grin formed on his face.

Though mildly disturbed by the expression, they went ahead and instructed him to lift his leg. The collar promptly clicked, but curiously enough, it didn't seem to cause him any pain. The man simply continued to smile like a loon. Was it because the emotional pain was being blocked by the bliss that came from the Imperius curse? Fascinating. They would have to test it further to see if it would be different with P-Pain or C-Pain.

Breaking the curse, the Keeper withdrew the last dose from the collar and inhaled it once again, this time instructing it to immediately inject once placed. When they returned it to the collar, Fredrick immediately began thrashing again. So, they could alter the instructions too, perfect.

Still, if filling the collar required that one absorb the energy first and align it, how did Gnarlak continue using it to control the dragon? The collar would surely have run out of energy over the last three years, and they couldn’t see the paranoid goblin trusting anyone else to do it for him.

Unless...

“Hold your breath, your next will hurt.” The Keeper chuckled when Frederick quickly took a breath and held it, before they released a small amount of aligned energy into the collar, instructing it to inject its entire payload if Frederick breathed.

Then they took another small bulb from the jar and lowered it into the collar as well. Several more seconds passed, before Frederick finally ran out of air and couldn't help but take a breath, and was promptly injected by the collar.

The Keeper watched with delight as the collar emptied itself in its entirety. So, mixing aligned energy with neutral energy did - in fact - cause all the neutral energy to become aligned and adopt the same orders. That was convenient, that would make it easy to top up the collars when they were running low.

Checking the time with a quick tempus, the Keeper closed the jar and shoved it back into their satchel. Waving their wand at the cuffs, they released Frederick and left him to curl up on his cot, shivering as they left the cell with a spring in their step.

If they hurried, they might be able to join the boys while the two were still warming up, and give Ominis that thank you blowjob.

Notes:

Trivial notes first;

The reason I made the Imperius curse nullify injected E-Pain is because the Imperius curse is capable of making someone even commit suicide, ignoring the pain that no doubt should be happening. It also seems like it's not any negative impact on a person that allows someone to fight it off, Harry for example, seemed to do so because he’s the main character. Honestly, Imperio is one of the most annoying spells in a world building sense (right after the Avada), like, it's supposed to be something you can gain a resistance to, and I know some people think it’s because Harry felt the bliss unnatural because he was abused, but um, then Ominis and like, a lot of people would be immune. And it can make you do superhuman things with unknown limits, it's just a real headache to work with as a writer unless you're just using it as a cheap convenient plot twister.

Also, I’m trying to use hyphens more in my writing, not sure if it’s good though, what do you guys think? Is it good, or should I just stick to tons of commas?

Okay, that's the trivial notes done, on to the serious ones!

I hope the parallel between Frederick hitting his wife and the Keeper hitting Sebastian was clear. They both did so as somewhat of an accident at the start, and the difference here is that unlike the Keeper, Frederick continued that instinctive/defensive/reactionary response of blaming the person that you just hurt, for you hurting them, because you feel guilty and need someone else to blame for your own actions.

It also doesn’t help that his wife didn’t help Fredrick come to terms with what he’d accidentally done, but that was understandable since she doesn’t have the trust in him that Sebastian has for the Keeper, especially after he tried to hit their kid. That’s why it’s important to establish trust with small things, so that when a big thing goes wrong, when you make a big mistake, as all people do, the trust and strength of the relationship can carry you through it.

Another parallel is between Sebastian and Anne and Frederick's wife. All three of them looked at someone, Sebastian at the Keeper, Anne at Sebastian, and the wife at Frederick, with fear. Unlike both Anne and Frederick's wife, Sebastian took the effort to reach the Keeper, to understand them and was willing to take the pain that comes with helping someone in distress.

(Though I think Frederick's wife has more cause to fear Frederick than Anne did Sebastian. Like, Anne, Sebastian was defending you, not attacking your baby.)

That's why Sebastian gets love, while Anne gets a dead Solomon, and Frederick's wife gets a dead husband haha

Also, like, Anne, you were giving Sebastian mixed signals, like you essentially tell Sebastian “cure me pls” and not give him boundaries, and Solomon is trying to stop Sebastian from curing you. Obviously, in order to fulfil your wish, he's gotta take Solomon out of the equation. You can't have your cake and eat it gurl.

Actions and words matter, and when they don't match up, it creates doubt, uncertainty and unreliability. Communicating and working hard to maintain trust is vital to any relationship, the moment you slack off, it’ll start sliding downhill. You don’t get married and stop courting your partner, you don’t just bank on the blood ties between family, and you can’t expect past goodwill to keep a friendship healthy, Sebastian.

The only reason Ominis was even considering sending Sebastian to Azkaban was because his trust and goodwill for Sebastian had been slipping. Sebastian was so focused on saving Anne that he stopped putting effort into keeping Ominis’ trust high. It’s not enough to not be mad at Ominis for not supporting you, Sebastian, he needs to feel valued.

But, at the same time, it wasn’t like Sebastian could spare the energy to be a good friend, not while going mad over trying to save his sister, so, it’s the kinda thing where nobody’s really the asshole, the situation just sucks.

Anyway, like with Macnair and Selwyn, like with Frederick, the root of evil acts is often banal, benign, until it isn't. It starts out subtle, disregard for some people because they don't fit your idea of normal or correct or worthy of respect. Because they don't make sense in your world view. It always starts small.

I think it should be (hopefully) pretty clear that the Keeper's anger at Frederick here, is not entirely just because he forced Tobbs to stay in the cave where he eventually died. It's the indicator of a lack of care about another life that is so deep seated, that Frederick can't even see anything wrong with his mentality. It bleeds into the rest of his life and behaviour, the way he hurts others with his selfishness.

Much like how the reason we throw the entire piece of bread away is not because of the slight dusting of mold on the corner. We throw it away because that visible mold is an indicator that the rest of the bread already has poisonous roots spread all over its insides. His words and actions are an indicator of a corruption inside that is almost impossible to be cleansed, especially if the person doesn't see anything wrong with his state.

Hypocrisy, apathy, indifference, disregard for empiricism, unrestrained reactionary responses, aversion to critical thought and introspection.

These are some of the hardest elements of human nature to shake when they have taken over the brain because they make it harder for the person to want to change especially if they've driven away the people with the strongest natural ties (family and childhood friends) and highest chance of convincing them through emotional attachment.

Why is emotional attachment the most likely to convince them to change? Because people like that tend to have a more active amygdala (the emotional center of the brain).

I like to believe it's possible, but... well. Difficult. At least. And the Keeper definitely doesn't have the grounds to do that. They're equally as fucked in the apathy and indifference towards harming others category. They're too angry. Yet another product of pain, of suffering.

But whether we can save these people or not, whether they can change or not is not the point. Criminals and the insane are humans too. Human rights do not end once a person's convicted, the law isn't perfect and there are 100% innocent people sitting in jail.

The Keeper then, at least, acknowledges that they could very easily have been Frederick. That they too, have the seeds of apathy within them. That's step one. Being able to see yourself as the person you hate. Being able to see how easily you could have ended up being like that too. How anyone and everyone could have been like that too.

If we are stronger, it's entirely because we were lucky enough to be. Lucky to have the genes we do, or the mind we were born with, or the parents we were born to, or the country or time we were born in. It is arrogance to take full credit for any strength one has.

Nobody can say “I wouldn't have done that in your shoes”, because I am not in your shoes, I am not in your mind, I am not in your body, I do not have your genes, I do not have your history, I am not you.

The only person you can judge is yourself.

What we can say, is “You shouldn't have done that, here's why, now we need to fix it. Will you help me? If yes, great, let's fix it together. If no, then alright, sit over here and reflect on the reason I gave you, while I fix it for you.”

I believe in rehabilitation, redemption and basic human rights. If a person cannot help but cause harm, that doesn't mean we shame them for it and punish them for it. We stop them for the greater good and treat them with as much kindness and respect as possible, while confining them for the safety of the public. We do not call them “stubborn” or “evil” even if they are legitimately beyond saving.

It's natural to feel negatively towards people like Frederick or even the Keeper, but we must both acknowledge and then look past the natural disgust, anger, revulsion and the fear that comes from intuitively understanding that "I could easily be that person".

We mustn't give in to the impulse to say "you must deserve your unfortunate circumstances. That's why I need not fear becoming you, because I am good, I am better than you, and I don't deserve your life."

Monsters are made, not born.

And crying about the monsters that have already been made or attacking them for existing, doesn't do anything. That just makes the monsters more monstrous.

We should try, to help the monsters we can, restrain them with as much dignity as we can afford them, but as I've said before, the best way is to prevent them from existing to begin with. Take away the factors that create people like Frederick. Take away the factors that create people like the Keeper. And, despite how hot they are when angry, Sebastian and Ominis too.

Of course, that's not to say that we should endanger ourselves for others either, we should do what we can within our means. I'm not gonna pull the trolley problem, but take for example, if a person was hanging off a cliff, and saving them would endanger you because you don't have safety measures, I think it's well within your right to not attempt to save them.

But if you have a safety harness and there's no danger or cost to yourself, you really should help that person, because you would really appreciate that if you were the one hanging on that cliff. If you can save the person without danger, and your job is rescuing people, and you don't rescue that person, not only are you not doing your job, that's called negligent manslaughter.

So, yeah, it's sad when we see a tragedy like Frederick, whose life simply did not equip him with the tools or the support needed for him to change. His parents died, his adoptive parents failed to guide him, his wife who had the greatest opportunity to help him, unfortunately, did not have the awareness to know how to help and was too afraid to and he ended up in the hands of people, uninterested in offering him a second chance.

It's honestly not that different from the malice of Macnair and Selwyn, directing all their anger and hate in the wrong direction while Frederick flees from all his problems.

Sebastian had the Keeper and Ominis to give him his second chance and support. Eliza had Ominis give her a second chance and James’ support. Those are examples of the significance of having BOTH second chances and support. Second chances without proper support are useless.

Without the right support, Frederick only ever did his best for himself in an immediate sense, and spent barely any effort on self-improvement, whereas Sebastian was constantly trying to grow. People can't think of others’ suffering when they themselves are suffering. When everyone's lives are better, that empowers them to extend empathy and grace to others.

And while the Keeper doesn't think to this extent because they're not as aware of how the system works, even if you don't think ignoring something bad “hurts you” directly, the way the system works is that, irresponsibility and disregarding other people's suffering, will still eventually come back to bite you in the ass one way or another. The more times you turn away when shit happens, the worse things get.

A quick example is homelessness, if you ignore them, they just get more desperate and aggressive, and they stress the typical citizen with fear of becoming them. If the homeless were given proper care and homes, they can contribute to society, which improves everybody's lives.

Also, while we're absolutely sculpted by our circumstances and environment, the same circumstance doesn't always create the same result. What works for me doesn't necessarily work for you. Putting someone through your own suffering will not necessarily turn them into you. A concept all parents should really be taught.

A pair of identical twins are still different people even if their genes are almost the same, even if they grew up the same way with the same people. If we met ourselves in a parallel universe, or even our past selves, we're still different people.

So, key takeaway is this, don't coat things you do in the clothing of righteousness to feel better about yourself. Nobody is better than anyone else, regardless of how much smarter or skilled or educated. One can be more qualified for an action or decision, but everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Even a judge in a court is not a god bringing divine righteousness down on the sinners.

One can be superior or inferior in an area, a skill, in knowledge. But no person is themselves superior or inferior to others.
Once you start thinking it's possible, well, it's a slippery slope and you won't notice yourself sliding down it till you reach the end, and can no longer recognise yourself in the mirror.

And to make it absolutely clear, I say all of this not to point blame, but to point out what we in the real world can learn from the mistakes of these characters, to prevent tragedies like the Sebastian questline, Macnair’s, Selwyn's and Frederick's tale from happening in reality.

Chapter Text

“This is all I could find. Seems like he didn't have much left by the time I went after him.” The Keeper dropped a small pouch on the table between them and Mrs. Taylor, their tone slightly apologetic.

They kind of felt like they’d gotten more out of this than Frederick's wife, but if she really needed the money, it'd probably be helpful regardless, the pearls should at least fetch a decent price. The Keeper wasn't exactly an expert, but the yellow tint to the pearly sheen made them likely to be natural pearls, and the gold ring was decently heavy.

“It's alright, I'll come back to give you your share after I sell off what you've found.” She nodded, accepting the pouch and, as she did so, a blue flame burst into being over her hand, startling her.

“Don't worry about that, it's just the contract. Evidence that I've fulfilled my end of the bargain.” The Keeper assured, taking a sip from their glass.

“I- I see.” The lady's smile became uncertain. “Is he-”

She cut herself off and shook her head. “Nevermind, thank you.”

“You're welcome.” The Keeper answered with a level gaze, amused that she clearly wanted and didn't want to know what had become of her husband. Perhaps they'd gotten used to reading that on Ominis’ more controlled face, and could spot it easily on hers. “I look forward to receiving my pay.”

At the clear dismissal, Mrs. Taylor nodded and stood. “I'll be in touch.”

With a last uncertain glance, she left the Phantom’s Flask, and the Keeper moved over to sit at Alasdair's counter, where the bartender gave them a wry smile. “Congratulations on clearing another job. How was your visit to the Rogues?”

“Rowdy.” The Keeper answered with an amused snort. “Think I prefer this place. Drinks are better too.”

A wide smirk covered Alasdair's face. “Flattery won't lighten your tab, kid. Out with it then, what do you want?”

“I don't suppose you know where I might be able to acquire two-way mirrors like Owl's, though I'd prefer a set of three that are linked.” The Keeper asked, stirring their drink idly with the straw.

“Well, starting out with the tough requests, hm? Two-ways are rare enough already, a set of three-way mirrors would be even harder to acquire.” Alasdair chuckled. “But I'm sure you've already guessed as much.”

“Can you help me or not?” The Keeper huffed, not particularly in the mood to play.

“There's only one merchant I know who could have something that rare, but they're involved in an ongoing fight with a fairly powerful enemy, so you might want to be careful when dealing with them.” The bartender warned. “It's not the type of beef you want to get dragged into.”

“Noted.” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at the man. Well, all they were interested in was trade, so they didn't see how that would be a problem.

“They rent a room on Tuesday nights to do trade, come by during opening hours and you'll find them in room sixteen.” Alasdair jabbed a thumb towards the stairs. “Wear your mask.”

That bad, huh.

The Keeper nodded as they finished up their drink, sliding the glass over to Alasdair and making to stand, when he asked. “Have you ever met a vampire?”

Eyes widening, they shook their head, a vampire, eh? That should be interesting.

“Well, greet them with a bow and don't tilt your head to the side or raise your wrist. Might take that as an offer.” The corner of Alasdair's mouth quirked upwards in amusement.

“I'll keep that in mind.” The Keeper huffed as they stood. “Thanks as always.”

“See you soon, kid.”

The streets of Diagon Alley were about as cramped as one might expect on a Sunday in the middle of the Christmas season, and Sebastian was starting to worry that he wouldn't make it to Gringotts on time for his first lesson with Borgok.

Which would be a pretty piss poor way to start his apprenticeship, so he took a breath and began to shove himself through the crowd. Ignoring the glares from the surrounding shoppers, Sebastian elbowed his way to the bank, huffing and puffing as he struggled against the flow of traffic.

When he finally made it to the large white doors, the bank itself also turned out to be crowded as all hell and, for a moment, Sebastian was worried that he wouldn't be able to find his mentor. Only to breathe a sigh of relief when he spotted the heavy-set blacksmith standing near a counter, speaking with another of his kinsmen, and he quickly waded through the sea of people and goblins.

Fortunately, Borgok seemed to spot him as he made his way over, saving him the awkward task of interrupting the conversation, and Sebastian stopped a few steps away. Leaning against a wall to catch his breath, Sebastian waited for Borgok to finish his discussion, and the other goblin left after a few moments.

“Master Borgok.” Sebastian greeted when his mentor turned to face him, giving him a slight bow of the head in respect.

It still felt odd to regard a goblin with deference, but he knew that this was something he had to get used to, goblins weren't the enemy, and this one would make him more useful to the Keeper. He needed to be useful, needed to take the pressure off them, they were already carrying so much of their future, it wasn't fair for both he and Ominis to need them so much.

The Keeper’s breakdown on Friday had reminded him that they weren't mentally invincible either, even they needed rest, and Sebastian knew that he only got to spend more time with the Keeper than Ominis, because most of it was when they were working.

And they were always working.

Which obviously meant that Ominis was left alone more often than not.

Sebastian had managed to get Ominis to talk about what was bothering him during their walk by the lake, and he'd felt rather stupid when the blond had hesitantly admitted that he was feeling lonely. Of course he was, the throuple could usually spend at least a few hours and mealtimes together every day during previous holidays, this was the first time they'd left Ominis alone for days in a row.

It wasn't fair that Sebastian's own needs were being met - purely because he and the Keeper conveniently took pleasure from working together - and Ominis’ weren't.

So, even though Sebastian loved watching the Keeper work, loved how hot they looked when they were focused, loved how good it felt every time they gave him one of their approving nods. He decided that he was going to do his best to reduce the amount of time that the Keeper needed to spend on work. Ominis deserved to get his relaxing dates with them too.

Hopefully, learning about goblin silver and how it worked would allow him to give the Keeper more time to rest and relax with him and Ominis. It was with this determination in his heart that Sebastian met Borgok's gaze, and a sharp toothy grin of approval spread across the goblin's face. Okay, still kinda unnerving, why did goblins have to have such creepy looking teeth-

“Sebastian, glad you made it on time, punctuality in the face of unexpected adversity is a sign of dedication.” Borgok chuckled, and the pink that had been leaving Sebastian's cheeks immediately returned. “Come, follow me.”

The hefty goblin turned and took a few steps over to the counter and Sebastian followed him with some trepidation.

“Nodrog.” Borgok greeted the goblin behind the counter, who was wearing the uniform of a security guard.

“Borgok, busy morning we're having, innit?” The guard chuckled wryly. “What can I do for you?”

“This is Sebastian.” Borgok gestured at him, before introducing the goblin. “And this is Nodrog, you'll have to get clearance from him to enter the employee's section of the building.”

Sebastian nodded at him in greeting, deciding to go with the standard. “Good morning.”

“So, this is the apprentice, bit younger than I expected.” Nodrog eyed Sebastian critically and he fought to keep his expression neutral, chanting in his head, don't get mad, don't get mad, don't get mad.

The goblin behind the counter then presented him with a ledger and a quill. “Here, you'll need to sign this every time you enter and leave.”

Taking the quill obediently, Sebastian found the first empty row to scribble his name on and, after passing the ledger and quill to Borgok, the security guard offered Sebastian a gold necklace in their place. “And you'll need to wear this.”

The golden chain was not very long, and its links were thick, broad squares, weaved together in an intricate interlocking design. Most prominently, was a curious pattern along the side that was large enough to be seen at a glance, it looked almost like letters, though Sebastian couldn't quite recognise them.

“It's got an identification number on the side. And it's how we'll know you're working here.” Nodrog explained, and Sebastian nodded, taking the chain and fastening it around his neck, rather surprised to find that it wasn't quite as uncomfortable as he'd thought it looked.

“Alright, that's everything settled. Welcome to Gringotts.” Nodrog pressed something on his countertop and the shutter gate beside the counter opened.

“Come along then, lad.” Borgok quipped as he led the way through the gates and down the corridor behind them.

Sebastian followed him for a short walk, and the corridor eventually ended at a chamber with three doors, which were all - oddly enough - lacking handles. The door to the left bore a bronze sheen, the one in the middle, silver, while the third was made of or possibly plated with gold, and Sebastian wondered which they would be entering. Not to mention, what the significance of each differing material was.

The blacksmith lumbered over to the golden door, and as he did, Sebastian noticed that there was a small keyhole set into the door's frame. He watched with curiosity as Borgok lowered his collar slightly to reveal a necklace that looked almost identical to Sebastian’s and lifted one of the golden keys hanging from it.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose when Borgok moved like he was going to pull the key off the necklace, only for the necklace to elongate. The links of the chain unfolded out of themselves elegantly, till the necklace was long enough for the goblin to easily slot the key into the keyhole on the door frame.

The key turned with a click, and a golden circle that Sebastian had previously thought was merely one of the intricate designs on the door's frame, popped out, becoming what was quite clearly a button. Its job done, Borgok released the key from between his fingers and the links in the necklace began folding back into themselves until the chain was once again hanging comfortably from around the goblin's neck.

With wide eyes, Sebastian tugged lightly on his own necklace, observing it as it elongated and then shrank back when he released it. A bright grin spread across his face, okay, that was pretty awesome.

When Borgok then pressed the gold button he'd unlocked, the door slid to the side, revealing its ornate interior to be a very small room lined with golden grilles and elegant frills. So much gold, Merlin, the goblins really liked their precious metals.

For a moment, Sebastian was confused, until he followed the goblin inside and realised that this was an elevator, a rather rare piece of machinery, though it made sense that Gringotts would have plenty. Sebastian examined the slate of buttons on the side, spotting a few with keyholes beside them, the third of which Borgok unlocked with yet another key, and then pressed, causing the doors to close.

With a deep rumble and a jolt, the elevator began descending and Borgok took a small pouch out of his pocket, offering it to Sebastian. “As you might have guessed, the smithy I manage is in the most secure layer, you will need the keys in this bag to reach it for our lessons. You can attach them to your necklace to avoid losing them.”

Accepting the pouch, Sebastian opened it, finding two golden keys and one silver key inside, and he asked, as he removed his necklace momentarily to secure them to the chain. “Most secure layer?”

Borgok chuckled. “Yes, well, I may have neglected to mention that I'm the head of Gringotts’ Diagon Alley branch Design Department, overseeing research and development of Gringotts’ tools, locks, security and machinery.”

Sebastian's eyes widened, so Borgok was a bigshot. Great, that could be a good thing and a bad thing at the same time, a voice that sounded an awful lot like the Keeper’s echoed in his head, followed by one that sounded more like Ominis, better be careful how you behave around him, but Sebastian himself was pretty excited about this, so he shooed the voices away.

If he performed well and managed to win the approval of Borgok and his team, he'd gain connections and it would bolster his credibility, giving his decisions more weight. Not to mention, the things he could learn from them, this was an incredible opportunity that he could still barely believe had landed in his lap. Thanks to the Keeper, as always.

But your stubbornness will be your ruin, you've never gotten on with authority, you're your father's son, after all, the snide voice of Solomon sneered in his mind, you're unteachable.

Sebastian smothered that one aggressively, it only ever came out when the Keeper wasn't around, and he yearned to have them here with him. They always made him feel more confident and assured, even before he'd fallen in love with them. Having their unflinching presence by his side always made him feel like any endeavour was possible, like he could take on the world.

“My smithy team followed me when I took the position, and your training will begin with them till you have enough of the basics to learn from me.” Borgok continued, unaware of Sebastian's internal havoc. “I will introduce you to the team, and then leave you to their care.”

Sebastian nodded, the keys around his neck feeling uncomfortably heavy and anxiety churning in his stomach. Fuck it though, he was going to do his best and he was going to win them over. He had to. Failure was not an option.

Hopefully Borgok would have enough for Sebastian to do - to keep his mind occupied and quiet - it was always less noisy and easier to think when he had a problem to solve or a puzzle to figure out. He felt the vertigo of motion cease, before the elevator doors opened with a clunk, and Sebastian's eyes widened with awe at the incredible sight that was unveiled.

Outside the elevator was an enormous dome chamber filled with large machinery and workshop benches covered in tools. The warm light from the roaring fires peeking out of numerous furnaces, glimmered across the gold and silver strewn about the room. A dozen goblins or so, were either seated at the benches or moving back and forth across the workspace like a well-oiled machine. Some pushing carts of materials and others carrying tools from one place to another.

He could also see several doors along the walls, and vents snaking their way across the ceiling, along with an absolutely chaotic mess of pipes crisscrossed beneath the grates that made up the floor. Oh boy, he really didn't envy whoever's job it was to remember which pipe went where, that looked like an absolute nightmare to manage, maintain, and repair.

If Borgok tried to give him that job, Sebastian would pack his bags and leave.

Said goblin beside him chuckled, and Sebastian jumped, reminded that he was standing in the elevator doorway, staring like an idiot.

“Quite something, isn't it?” Borgok wore a proud smile as he ran his gaze over the room.

“It's incredible.” Sebastian agreed, stepping out of the elevator and returning his attention to his mentor.

“That it is, you should've seen how it looked before I got here.” The blacksmith laughed to himself as he shuffled over to a row of silver lockers beside the lift landing.

“However, the first lesson you must learn is that everything that inspires awe, is also dangerous.” Borgok rapped his knuckles against a pigeonhole locker with the number thirteen engraved on it. “You are not to descend the steps into the workshop, until you have donned the protective gear from your locker. And take off those useless robes, wizarding fashion will cost you an arm down here.”

Sebastian approached his locker and spotted a small keyhole beside the handle, quickly guessing that one of the keys hanging around his neck would likely fit. He tugged the necklace out from under the cotton tunic - that Borgok had instructed him to wear in advance - and pulled on it, still rather taken with how beautifully the necklace stretched, and attempted the smallest silver key, which fit perfectly, and he opened the locker to examine its contents.

At the sound of another locker opening beside him, Sebastian peered at Borgok, watching the goblin don the gear inside his own locker, and Sebastian shucked his robes quickly to copy his mentor.

In a few minutes, Sebastian was decked out with a small pair of goggles that sat snugly over his eyes, a face shield that could be flipped up to sit atop his head when not in use, a thick brown apron that he'd tied around his waist, a pair of safety boots - was that steel covering the toes? Fascinating - and a pair of gloves.

The gloves weren't as thick as he'd expected, but had a mesh design that felt incredibly sturdy. He'd bet good money that these gloves would stop a knife from taking off a finger and Sebastian wondered if he could get a pair of these for the Keeper. He could also feel the pulse of magic in his gear, and he noticed several runes embroidered into the waist-tie of the apron and the wrist cuffs of the gloves.

He was honestly a tad surprised that they would have gear within a human's size range, he'd already given Borgok his shoe and glove sizes, so those were customised as he'd expected, but the rest were adjustable. A rather strange choice of investment.

Finished donning his gear, Sebastian lifted the face shield and closed his locker, hearing it lock automatically, and looked at himself in the reflective surface of its door. Huh, Sebastian grinned, maybe if he showed up looking this professional, Ominis might actually trust him.

He snorted to himself in amusement, yeah, if the blond could actually see him maybe, shaking his head, he descended the stairs to join Borgok.

Fortunately, the goggle lenses seemed to be made of crisp clear crystal, and Sebastian could easily take in the sights as he followed his mentor across the chamber, his steel-toed shoes clanking against the metal beneath them.

“This chamber is the common workshop. Those five doors lead to the workshops for specialisation teams focused on a different aspect of smithing.” Borgok explained as they walked, gesturing to the doors spaced evenly along the dome's walls. “There's the Material team, the Forging team, the Finishing team, the Tooling maintenance team, and my team, the Design team.”

It was a struggle to focus on his mentor's words while goblins bustled around them, and Sebastian's eyes were constantly flickering back and forth as yet another curious machine caught his attention. Wait, was that a cart of platinum!? Sebastian's jaw went slack, an entire cart full!? He suddenly felt rather nervous, if he messed up something here, he might end up costing them more money.

Ugh, was this what being responsible felt like? Sebastian sighed, not fun, but he supposed doing good by his partners was worth dampening his excitement.

“And this is my office, you can seek me out here if you have any issues that your assigned teacher can't address.” Borgok continued as they arrived at a brass door, whose frame was like an oval cut into the wall, and Sebastian thought it a curious design choice.

The goblin unlocked the door with yet another key, and Sebastian frowned as it opened, wondering why he wasn't hearing any jangling, despite the many keys hanging from Borgok's necklace. That, and how his mentor kept track of where each key went, Merlin, there had to be at least ten hanging off the goblin’s neck.

The inside of his office was surprisingly modest, in contrast to how shiny most of Gringotts seemed to be, and it felt less industrial than the workshop outside as well. It was more akin to a Professor's office back in Hogwarts, with a large but low desk on the other end of the room, though it was made of steel rather than wood, and covered with small gadgets, papers and tools.

Borgok lumbered over to it and Sebastian followed him, past an even lower coffee table, surrounded by short yet plush, comfortable looking couches and armchairs.

“Take a seat, while I call my team to the room.” The goblin gestured towards the short stool in front of the desk as he walked around it to sit in the high-backed chair behind it.

As instructed, Sebastian took a seat, though it felt more like he was crouching on the short stool, and Sebastian watched curiously as his mentor reached out to flip up the covers on four... pipes? The four brass pipes were sticking out of the desk and, leaning forward, Borgok spoke clearly and evenly into those four pipes at the same time.

“This is Master Smith Borgok, could the Masters of each department please come to my office? Thank you.” Finishing his announcement, the goblin closed the four flaps and leaned back in his seat to face Sebastian. “They should arrive in several minutes. For today, I will have you spend an hour following each of the four Masters around as they go about their work.”

Sebastian nodded slowly, and his expression must have looked not unlike a warrior going into battle, because Borgok gave him a small smile, saying. “Don't look so worried, they're my friends before my employees, and I can assure you that you will be treated no differently than one of our goblins.”

“Thank you.” Sebastian returned his smile, grateful that his mentor was taking the time to ease his nerves. Still, he'd had enough bad experiences with adults to remain wary, though he supposed he was already considered one himself, by all technicality.

“After you've taken some time with the other Masters, you can come by my office, and we'll speak for a bit about any observations you've made.” Borgok continued. “Though some of my friends might be... strict, I hope you'll be able to learn much from them, though it would probably be prudent to give you some warning.”

“Warning?” Sebastian echoed warily.

“Yes, see, amongst goblins, we men commonly handle interactions with Wizardkind, your people aren't very... tolerant towards our women.” Borgok flashed a wry smile. “Of course, I don't understand it, I think our goblette ladies are absolutely lovely, but humans seem to find them rather... scary.”

Sebastian's eyebrows raised, even more so than goblins!?

“And our culture is normally one of express honesty. Humans in general seem to think that ‘polite’ means lying. In contrast, when we goblins feel a certain way, we will make no attempts to hide it, out of respect to those around us. The more we care about each other, the more effort we put into being our authentic selves.” Borgok explained, and Sebastian felt something stir inside him, he really liked the way that sounded.

“However, humans... they take offence too easily, and when our women show anger, it can put them in grave danger.” The goblin sighed. “So, us men, the physically stronger and less... ugly by - human standards - handle interactions with humans. And I won't lie, it's... painful to suppress our emotions the way humans do.”

Sebastian winced in sympathy, he knew what that felt like, that sounded rough indee-

The door slammed open with a clang that echoed through the room, and Sebastian jumped, spinning around to stare with wide eyes as a foot hovered in the doorway for a moment. Before it lowered to the floor and a goblin - just a tad shorter than Borgok - entered, wearing an admittedly, rather terrifying scowl.

“The blazes are ye doin’ callin’ me in the middle o’ engraving!?” The goblin's voice was slightly higher in pitch, though no less rough than Borgok's, with a hooked nose that pointed upwards rather than down, long brown hair tied up in a tight bun and twice as many wrinkles as the average goblin. “You gonna do me last twenty hours o’ work if I botch the batch, eh Borgok!?”

“Melain, my friend, please, we should give young Sebastian a chance to get used to dealings with fine ladies like yourself.” Borgok sighed, and Sebastian blinked, so that was a goblette. Merlin’s beard, she did look terrifying indeed, were those tusks peeking out from her lower lip!?

Another goblin shoved past Melain, this one was a little taller than her but also had long hair - blonde this time - in a braid, another goblette, from the wrinkles and long fangs. This one flashed Borgok a sharp grin, revealing two rows of teeth that were even more jagged than his, as she scoffed. “And that's our problem, how?”

“Rozen is right. If the boy wants to learn from us, he'll have to get accustomed to our customs.” Came a flat and uninterested statement from a bespectacled goblette with her black hair in a messy bun, who strolled past the others, staring at a clipboard in her hands as she absently took a seat in one of the armchairs. “Jason managed without any coddling.”

“That's very kind of you to say, Loleu.” The next person to enter was - to Sebastian's surprise - a human. The man's voice was deep, and his warm blue eyes followed the goblettes as they seated themselves.

He was also intimidatingly tall, at least a head taller than Sebastian, and he was large and muscled, with cropped dark brown hair that was almost as messy as Sebastian's own, wearing the same apron around his waist and the same gloves too. He had a strong square jaw that made Sebastian think of muggle soldiers, and there were numerous scars crisscrossing across the thick arms, showing under his rolled-up sleeves.

A part of Sebastian wondered if he would eventually look... like that, after working here for a while. Would Ominis and the Keeper like that? If he had big muscles to touch? It would be pretty cool if he could carry Ominis bridal style one day.

Catching Sebastian's curious eyes, Jason grinned broadly and strode towards him, saying. “Hey there, Sebastian, right? I'm glad to see the gear fits! I thought it should - from your shoe and glove sizes - but one can never really know in the wizarding world.”

Jason chuckled as he offered his hand for a shake, and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel some relief at seeing a gesture he knew how to respond to. Standing and taking the hand, Sebastian smiled. “So, I have you to thank for the gear. You have my gratitude, I must admit, I'm surprised to see another human.”

At his words, the three goblettes on the couch began to snicker and Jason chuckled as he released Sebastian's hand. “Not quite, I'm a werewolf.”

Sebastian's eyes widened and Jason gave him a rueful smile. “The Ministry doesn't make it easy for my kind to make an honest living, Master Borgok was kind enough to give me a chance when he saw the craft I was trying to sell.”

Sebastian followed the werewolf's grateful gaze to the goblin in question, and Borgok shrugged. “I didn't have enough coin on me, so I offered to teach him, in exchange for what I needed to buy. Saved me the embarrassment of showing up to my mother’s without a gift.”

“Luckily for me.” Jason chuckled. “I trusted his word and let him leave with the artpiece, even though I was raised to see goblins as uncivilised. And it was the best decision I've ever made.”

“We simply see no point in denying merit when we see it. Effort should always be met with equal appreciation, and it is an insult to give more - or less - than fair, in exchange for work.” Borgok paused with a bitter smile. “That's all we ever wanted from Wizardkind, to be viewed with the appropriate recognition for our hard work and efforts. But humans value results over effort. I will never understand such a way of thinking.”

Sebastian felt something clench in his chest at those words, that's right, that's all he ever wanted too. For his uncle to respect him, for his efforts to be recognised. Did it matter if he failed? He was trying. Could Solomon not see that? Did he not care? Sebastian could have had everybody in Hogwarts admire him and it wouldn't have been a substitute for his uncle's recognition and support.

He bit his lip, heart aching, until he thought of the Keeper. They hadn’t given a fuck when he failed, and so spectacularly at that. They saw how much he cared, how hard Sebastian was always trying. Always. Trying to be strong and confident, trying to look and feel like he knew what the fuck he was doing. Perhaps it would hurt less if he could just show his honest feelings without need for hiding, like the goblins did.

They may look scary, but their hearts weren't very different from his own, it seemed.

Maybe it wasn’t so strange that Ranrok's Loyalists were all goblin men, they were the ones who had to endure humanity's farces and toxic masks. It made Sebastian feel a strange guilt, that those goblins had just been infected by human poison. The same poison he himself had been choking on. He'd been taking his anger out on people who were in the same boat that he'd been in for years.

“Because the goblin way makes sense.” Loleu muttered, flipping a page on her clipboard and pulling a... pen, out of the mess pretending to be a bun on her head, to scribble something on the clipboard. “Jason made an excellent recovery and great progress under our care.”

“My dear, you'll make me blush.” Jason grinned sheepishly.

“Maybe I want to.” Loleu tossed back with a smirk, as she shoved her pen back into her bun.

“Urk- gross. Yer flirting'll give me hives.” Melain stuck out her tongue and Rozen snickered.

“It's not flirting, get your head outta the gutter.” Loleu rolled her eyes. “So, what's the plan, Master Smith?”

Borgok cleared his throat. “Yes, first, let me introduce my Masters.”

Sebastian sat up a little straighter and followed Borgok's palm as he gestured from the left to the right.

“Rozen is the Master in charge of Raw Materials, she handles refining and smelting raw ore from the mines, for use in forging.” The blonde goblette gave him a rather unsettling grin, but Sebastian bowed his head respectfully. He was just going to have to get over his discomfort, Jason managed, he could too.

“Jason is the Forging Master, he manages our forgers and they handle the conversion of ingots into the rough designs my team and I develop.” The large werewolf waved cheerfully, and Sebastian grinned back at him, he had a feeling the man would be a fun teacher.

“Melain is the Finishing Master, her team makes the finishing touches on every piece of work that leaves the forges. Engraving, polishing and all the detailed work.” The brunette goblette gave him a curt nod and he already felt like she would be the scariest teacher in the group.

“And finally, Loleu, our Tools Master, ensures that our forge is running around the clock. Maintaining or replacing any machinery or tools necessary for us to work.” The bespectacled goblette didn't even look up from her clipboard, simply sending a small wave in his general direction.

With the introductions done, Sebastian glanced at Borgok who moved his hand towards the blonde goblette, saying. “So, for starters, I'll be handing you off to Rozen, she'll introduce you to her line of work, before handing you over to the next Master.”

The blonde goblette sighed and stood. “Come on then, lad. Time's a wastin’.”

Giving Borgok a nod of farewell, Sebastian followed Rozen out of the room, his earlier trepidation returning as he did, still not entirely sure what to expect.

Returning to Borgok's office four hours later, Sebastian rapped his knuckles on the brass door and waited for Borgok's invitation. “Come in.”

Dutifully pushing the door open and poking his head inside, Sebastian saw the Master Smith scribbling on some papers at his desk, and Borgok spared him a glance, before returning his attention to his work. “Please take a seat on the couch, I'll be ready to speak with you in a few minutes.”

“Yes, Master Smith.” Sebastian nodded as he closed the door behind him and took a seat on one of the couches, slumping into the low cushion with a tired sigh. Merlin, that had been more exhausting than he'd expected.

His long tour had begun with Rozen had showing him to the Refinery Chambers, which - contrary to their name - were not mere chambers, but in fact expanded rooms so large that he wasn't even able to see the ceiling.

The Sifting Chamber held mountains, and he meant mountains of reddish-brown grains of iron, silver and gold. Apparently, they would grind up the raw ore transported from the mines and then use magnets to sift the iron from the dirt, and large gallons of water to wash dirt from gold and silver.

Rozen had given him a mask to wear over his nose and mouth, so he wouldn't choke on the fine dust, and Sebastian had commented that that would be a rather... fine way to die. Which had earned him a round of laughter from the crew nearby and a couple of hearty slaps on the thigh from Rozen. Which kind of hurt.

The Chemical Chamber had been rather pungent but was apparently vital to cleaning impurities from the precious metals between the various phases of smelting. Said connected Smelting Chamber had been extremely hot, enough that he could feel the burn on his skin despite the protective charms on his gear, and Rozen had told him that the temperatures in the coke coal forges reached almost half the heat of the sun's surface itself, according to recent muggle findings.

Sebastian had been admittedly awestruck when Rozen handed him a monstrously heavy ingot of pure gold, he'd almost dropped the tiny thing when she first passed it to him. However, the most exciting part of that hour had been watching the first phase of the process of enchanting the silver ingots to convert them into Goblin Silver.

Apparently, goblins could hear something that humans couldn't, or at least Sebastian hadn't heard shit when Rozen tapped a silver ingot with her hammer and went. “Ya hear that? When the silver sings like that, ya know it's good fer enchantin’.”

She'd tossed the ingot into a crucible with moonstone, before removing her glove and pricking her finger with a needle from her pocket, adding a drop of her own blood to it. Before handing Sebastian a stack of already cooled enchanted silver ingots, which had a blue sheen reminiscent of moonstone itself, to carry with him to his next stop.

He'd been relatively unsurprised by the addition of goblin blood to the mixture, their race had always been the least unsettled by blood magic.

Then, she'd dropped him off at Jason's forge, where the man had happily invited Sebastian to watch him forge a shield that'd been commissioned for a noble family, from the ingots that Sebastian had carried over. The werewolf had shown him how to get an ingot safely clamped between tongs and slide it over the burning coal furnaces to heat the metal evenly, before it could be hammered into the appropriate shape.

It had been rather amusing, how excited Jason had been to introduce one of the newer machines in the forge.

Apparently, the Power Hammer was based off a state-of-the-art piece of muggle machinery, it linked a spinning clutch with a hammer that would bounce on leather springs once engaged. It had been invented by a muggle designer named Christopher Bradley only a year ago, and Jason had chuckled as he described how enraged Borgok had been that a muggle had out-designed him with such a brilliant tool. One that would significantly reduce the amount of magic needed to power the process.

The werewolf had instructed Sebastian to lower his face shield as he hammered the metal into shape, folding it several times to improve its durability.

Sebastian had then asked, as Jason hammered away without anything protecting his face. “Why aren't you using a face shield?”

“Because I know what I'm doing.” Jason had answered with a grin.

“I'm a quick learner.” Sebastian hadn't been able to resist shooting back.

“That's what Greg said.” Jason had laughed, before turning to the side and shouting to be heard over the hammering of metal. “Hey Greg!”

“What?” Came the reply from one of the goblins nearby, who'd lifted his own face shield to reveal a large scar over his left eye.

“Tell the kid how you lost your eye!” Jason had called back.

The goblin cackled and flashed the wide-eyed Sebastian a sharp grin, shouting back. “Corner o’ coolin’ metal snapped off while hammerin’ and flew in me face!”

At his words, Sebastian had eyed the red-hot metal that Jason was hammering warily, and the werewolf cheerfully added. “Besides, if I mess up and injure myself, that's fine. But if I mess up and injure you, well, bugger me. So, keep that shield down.”

He wasn't sure if this was all a joke, but Sebastian kept his face shield down till Jason handed him off to Melain. Who quickly gave Sebastian her own variation of the same warning and told him to stay outta her way while she finished scraping, polishing, and engraving a goblet of goblin silver.

He'd watched with fascination as she sang in Gobbledegook under her breath, while etching little runes that glowed under her chisel. This was apparently the last step in enchanting Goblin Silver, which was why Jason was able to handle forging, despite not being a goblin. The main components were goblin blood, added during the smelting, and then runes charmed with goblin song and etched by goblin hands.

Sebastian was slightly disappointed that it wouldn't be possible for him to just make Goblin Silver for the Keeper, but he supposed if it were that simple, it wouldn't be so damn rare and expensive.

The blonde goblette hadn't given him much instruction or introduction, so focused she'd been on her work, but he'd found it enlightening to watch her all the same. While the Raw Materials were taxing and laborious to refine repeatedly, and forging required both immense strength and aim, finishing was no less difficult, and demanded intense focus and finesse. Not to mention, the amount of pressure there must be on the finishers to not waste all the work that had already gone into an item.

Loleu had dropped by to pick him up, correctly guessing that Melain was too caught up in her craft to remember his existence, and the black haired goblette had brought him to her workshop. Which... looked like an absolute nightmare. Machinery laid about in varying states of disrepair, an entire stack of spanners and hammers, a pile of screws and bolts was heaped in one corner, with another pile of nuts and gears in the other.

The messy room was apparently the equivalent of a spare parts scrap pile, and Sebastian had thus discovered - when Loleu asked him to pick up a handful of nuts for her - that the necklace of keys hanging around his neck would stay plastered to his chest even if he leaned forward. Which explained why he heard no jangling from the keys.

Loleu had then, absentmindedly told him that the necklace was charmed to stay against his chest so that the keys and chain would not get caught in any machinery or grinders, which would be quite... bad. Sebastian had swallowed at the unsettling thought, and then wondered if the goblette had a second pair of eyes hidden in her hair, since she'd been staring at her clipboard the entire time.

He'd watched as a seemingly endless stream of goblins came into the room, one after the other, to ask for a specific sized screw or nut or a size-sixteen Box-Head Ratcheting spanner or a replacement for a Steam-Powered Mechanical Trip Hammer Piston Assembly. Whatever the hell that last one was.

And every single time, she would simply check her clipboard or skip it entirely and just walk to one of the many piles of scrap, rummage through it for a moment, before returning with the requested item. She'd occasionally ask one of the other goblins in the room to retrieve something from storage, but the sheer amount of things that that goblette seemed to remember herself was somewhere between impressive and daunting.

Sebastian had made a mental note not to let any secrets slip around her. All in all, an exhausting four hours and he felt like, while he'd gotten a good look at what the work here entailed, he still wasn't sure where he fit in all this.

“Alright, my apologies, I had to get these signed as soon as possible.” Borgok sighed, catching Sebastian's attention, and he watched as the goblin set aside his quill, before placing the stack of parchment on a tray. “Come, take a seat.”

Sebastian dutifully made his way to the desk, while Borgok pressed several buttons on the side of the tray and the stack of papers vanished in a shimmer of gold particles.

“So, tell me, how was the tour?” Borgok smiled as Sebastian sat down.

“Incredible really, I never realised so much went into even just preparing the materials to be used.” Sebastian answered, thinking of the construction they'd done on the castle. “I've done conversion of metal ore into usable materials, but only with magic and on a much smaller scale.”

“Yes well, it's less practical to use magic for mass production on the scale Gringotts requires for minting and crafting.” Borgok's smile became bitter. “It also doesn't help that we're denied wands that would make using magic for mass production less dangerous for my goblins.”

Sebastian grimaced at the reminder of the role his people played in the oppression of the goblins, before frowning. “Dangerous?”

“Yes. The amount of magic needed to control fire at the heat of coke coal for example, would strain any goblin's magic and it would only take a slight loss of concentration for it to go wild.” Borgok explained. “A more extreme scenario would be, if an atmosphere change caused the amount of necessary magic to increase while the goblin is already tired, it could require them to strain themselves past magical exhaustion. It's just not practical without wands.”

“I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. “That's why there isn't much use of magic in the process."

“That is one reason, yes.” Borgok smiled wryly. “Another is familiarity with the Material. And indeed, I was very impressed that you'd managed to craft a blade entirely with magic, but no doubt you noticed that the quality of your metal was nowhere close to the ingots we craft.”

Sebastian blinked. “I thought that was because I was inexperienced.”

“That is not entirely accurate.” Borgok shook his head. “Wizarding magic is capable of... short-cutting a great deal. But a problem that comes with being introduced to crafting by the use of magic, is that you don't learn enough about what you're working with first.”

Sebastian's expression must have shown his confusion, because Borgok chuckled and elaborated. “Essentially, a wizard who already knows how to make a good table, can find a way to make a good table with magic. However, if you simply learn the spell from him, without first knowing how to make a good table, your table will not be as good as his.”

Oh, that made more sense, Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, that was not unlike what Professor Weasley taught about transfiguration.

“In that scenario, the quality of goblin smithing, and even muggle smithing, will always be superior, because knowledge and experience informs what you can do with magic.” Borgok concluded. “There is a difference between lazily enforcing your will on reality, as Wizardkind do, versus moulding reality by working with it, as we goblins do.”

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, perhaps he should redo the metalwork for the dungeon cell doors, once he was better at forging. The Keeper had done woodwork during their time in the workhouses, so they'd been relatively confident about the wooden doors they'd crafted after additional research and Rackham’s guidance.

However, Sebastian had handled the metalwork for things like torch holders and cell doors, and while it was probably enough that the metal wasn't breakable with inmates’ bare hands, he would feel better having done his best to improve them.

“And that's why you want me to learn all the aspects of forging.” Sebastian nodded.

“Correct.” Borgok gave him an approving grin. “I chose to teach Jason forging because I saw in his art, the hard work, dedication and meticulous attention to detail necessary for a forger.”

The goblin jabbed a finger at Sebastian. “And I chose you, because I saw in that dagger the resourcefulness and determination to make do with what little you have. Your dagger did no more and no less than what you needed it to do, with the bare minimum in skill, experience and materials. That efficiency and creativity is necessary for a designer.”

Borgok grinned, lifting his chin with a touch of pride. “Design comes before everything else. It is the stage where we decide what an object can and will do, whether it is going to be a cursed helm or a blessed goblet. It is where we decide what runes and enchantments will be woven into it.”

With every word, Sebastian felt his heart climb up into his throat, he hadn't thought it possible for him to feel quite so excited about anything besides Dark Arts. The doors of possibility had never felt quite as wide, could he one day even make something like the relic himself? Hang on...

“And that's why Gringotts is partnered with the Ministry overseeing the Curse Breakers!” Sebastian exclaimed in understanding. “Because goblin craft intersects with the enchantment of physical objects!”

Borgok nodded with a pleased curl to the corners of his eyes. “Indeed, there are none quite as skilled in the enchantment of objects as we are, and thus, reverse engineering it is also our expertise. My Design team works closely with the Curse Breakers to break the curses on tombs or objects they attempt to retrieve.”

Sebastian felt like he was close to vibrating in his seat and had to take a breath to calm himself. Alright, he couldn’t screw this up. He was going to be the best damn student Borgok ever had.

“And that's why you asked if I like reading.” Sebastian chuckled, that had been the strangest question the goblin had asked him while discussing his apprenticeship in the Phantom's Flask.

Borgok flashed him a sharp grin. “Design is a highly theoretical field, if you were hoping to get jacked like Jason, you better tell me now, lad.”

Sebastian shook his head with a snicker. “I'm all for reading and calculations. No worries there.”

“Good.” Borgok nodded and pushed a stack of books across the table. “I think that is good enough for today. I'd like you to read these whenever you have time, and when you are experienced enough, I will introduce you to my Design team. I look forward to monitoring your progress, and I'll see you in my office again next week.”

The goblin raised a hand towards him, and Sebastian took it firmly, his eyes bright as he shook hands with his mentor. This was his path, he just knew it. He would become useful to the Keeper, and maybe even find a way to break Anne's curse if the Keeper's Ancient Magic didn't manage to.

His future had never been so bright.

“Sebastian, could you pass me a jar of E-Pain?” The Keeper asked as they fastened the empty Energy collar around Frederick's neck, before doing the same with the equally empty energy armlet, around his upper arm. Hoping to discover the differences between the collar and the armlet with today’s tests on the man.

“Here you go.” Sebastian chirped, tossing them the jar from the pack beside him before returning his attention to the book balanced in his left hand.

The Keeper eyed him with amused fondness in their heart, which book was this one? Minerals From The Mine-rails... presumably about mined minerals. Their adorable lover had been positively jubilant since his first lesson with Borgok, he'd spent the entire dinner last night and breakfast this morning, babbling about his tour and the books he'd been given to read, and he'd been reading every free moment since.

Ominis had told them not to expect anything coherent out of the brunet for the next two days, and he'd been quite correct. Sebastian had been following the Keeper from one place to another, like a duckling, his nose buried in his books. It was nice seeing his impressive dedication on display again and they'd found it cute that he still wanted to join them for their experiments.

Which was quite alright, since they were still in the process of confirming the collar's functions, they weren’t likely to need his mind present.

Though it was frustrating that, through all this time, the Keeper had only made progress increasing the amount of energy they could extract without tearing the Aura. Going from being able to extract a fraction of a needle's pain to being able to extract two needles worth, and even then, that was only because their skill and finesse had improved, not because they'd found a better method.

Then again, Isidora had been a bloody Hogwarts Professor who'd dedicated her entire life to refining this extraction process for mass usage, and she'd given up on preventing Aura tearing. Then again, she hadn't even noticed the tears.

The Keeper sighed, whatever. That was a problem for later, for now they had to continue testing, so they'd be ready for the big Macnair overload test. That was going to eat into their miniscule stash of C-Pain substantially, but hopefully its significantly greater potency will make that small stash go a long ways. Perhaps they might even figure out how Aura tears worked at the same time.

With that, they drew the E-Pain from the jar and inhaled it, closing their eyes and instructing the energy to inject three seconds’ worth if he disobeys instructions. They'd already confirmed that the collar's instructions could be overridden by adding newly Aligned energy - of any quantity - to an already Aligned energy pool, this included instructions to ‘return to neutral’.

Which made it less worrying that they might accidentally contaminate their Repository, at least they could simply revert it to Unaligned by overriding it. Still, they would try not to mix Aligned Energy with their main Repository altogether, so that they would never have to find out of quantity did make a difference on too large a scale.

Exhaling the Aligned energy, they lowered it into the collar and the man flinched as they did so, though he seemed more wary than panicked today, perhaps he had forgotten his fear of pain. No matter, he would no doubt remember soon. Then they extracted a tiny sliver of E-Pain from the jar and added it to the energy armlet this time, without Aligning it.

“Now, Mr. Taylor, do you feel the warmth around your arm?” The Keeper asked idly, and he nodded slowly. “I want you to imagine the warmth as mist and picture yourself breathing it in.”

“Why-” He'd barely gotten the word out, when he was injected by the collar.

“Do it, or you will experience more pain.” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at him and the trembling man gasped for breath a time or two, before closing his eyes and taking a slower breath.

The Keeper watched with interest as the armlet emptied and, when he opened them, the man's eyes glowed red for a brief moment, a goofy expression of bliss on his face. Ew, gross.

“What- what was- what was that? Can- can I have more-” Frederick stammered, and they glared at him.

“Did you respect your elf's request for more food?” The Keeper asked rhetorically. “What makes you think I'd respect yours?”

They felt some satisfaction when he flinched, and - itching to hurt the man rather than give him anything remotely pleasurable - an idea popped into their head. It was worth testing out, so they inhaled a sliver of E-Pain, instructing it to inject immediately, before exhaling it and placing it in the armlet, rather than the collar.

The man jolted in pain as soon as the energy entered the armlet, fascinating. So, the armlet could allow both absorption and injection, whereas the collar could only allow injection. They wondered what the difference was, and they took a breath as they thought, before it occurred to them, perhaps it was like that.

After all, there was a difference between breathing willingly and at one's own pace, versus having air forced down the throat. Or as with water, one could be thirsty, but would absolutely still choke if someone just sprayed water into their mouth. Perhaps the same applied to the energies, which would explain why the Fear-Pill they'd given Selwyn hadn't boosted his reflexes, only caused him to enter a waking nightmare, because they'd forced it down his throat.

That made sense, though in that case, what about Aligned energy that isn't being forcefully injected?

The Keeper extracted another sliver of E-Pain and inhaled it, instructing it to inject if subject leaves the cell. Then they placed it into the armlet and gave the man a glare when he flinched. “You're lucky I need to test this further, take a breath again.”

Relief coloured his face and Frederick took another breath and, as expected, the energy was absorbed painlessly this time. So, it was possible to absorb Aligned energy as long as it hadn't been instructed to inject, like drinking water from a rushing river by scooping the water into one's hands, perhaps.

They wondered how that might work with the Imperius curse, so the Keeper drew their wand and cast. “Imperio.”

With the man safely under control, the Keeper added another sliver to the armlet and instructed him to absorb it. The energy disappeared from the armlet accordingly, so the Imperius could force someone to absorb-

“Ugh- what-” Frederick groaned, and the Keeper frowned as they felt him break free from the curse. Interesting, E-Pain could increase one's resistance to the Imperius curse? Perhaps because the positive effect of that energy was a boost in magical capability?

Well, while that might cause some complications during Macnair's test, it was good to know, and as of yet, it didn't seem likely to pose an issue. Now, was there anything else they'd needed to test? The Keeper wondered to themselves, and their eyes wandered the cell as they thought, before catching sight of Sebastian, nose still buried in his book, and they recalled his suggestion of using Fredrick’s own pain in the collar.

“Hm, worth a try.” The Keeper murmured, how would they go about it though? Thinking for a moment, they remembered the note they'd found sitting on Frederick's bedside table when they'd ransacked his room, signed off by one Vanessa. Likely the woman he'd been cheating on his wife with.

No surprise really, the Keeper had a hard time imagining anyone being attracted to this guy, perhaps that might be a sore spot worth prodding.

“That reminds me, Mr Taylor, I dropped by the apothecary you worked at, this fine Monday morning. Seems like nobody's wondering where you are.” The Keeper commented idly, watching the man as he stiffened. “Thanks to you stumbling from the Rowdy Rogue drunk last Friday, your boss thinks you might’ve frozen to death on the way home.”

They flashed him a smirk. “I doubt anyone's going to be looking for you, and it's not like you have someone waiting for you back home, after your girlfriend dumped you. Vanessa, right? How sad, to leave your wife, only to lose your dear Vanessa when the coin ran dry.”

The man flinched, and, pressing their wand to his chest, the Keeper drew a stringy blob of red black smoke from his heart. Nice, that hadn't taken much effort. Now, hopefully-

The Keeper felt a sudden burst of heat travel up their wand, so searing that they almost dropped it, and they watched with wide eyes as the strand of E-Pain they'd been extracting from his Aura, seemed to burst into flame. Orange embers chased the energy up from his chest, engulfing the smoky bubbles and turning it into a bright golden thread.

“Sebastian- pass me an empty jar!” The Keeper called as they lifted the orange energy away from Frederick.

Startling at their sudden command, Sebastian almost dropped his book, but quickly caught it and shoved it under his arm. Before following their instructions, grabbing an empty jar and opening it for them to lower the orange energy into.

He stared at it in wonder and murmured. “What is that? It looks almost like smelted gold.”

“I- I'm not sure. It started as E-Pain-” The Keeper breathed, also leaning closer to examine it with curiosity.

As they did so, the jar of E-Pain in their hand was unintentionally brought closer to the jar of orange energy. There was a clink as the glass of both open jars made contact, and to their alarm, the E-Pain promptly burst into orange flames as well.

“Oh, cool, now we have more.” Sebastian quipped with a grin, before frowning. “Wait, that’s not good, is it.”

“No, it isn’t.” The Keeper agreed and took a few steps away from their satchel. “Come here Sebastian, I think it's proximity, we can't let the rest of my E-Pain or C-Pain catch fire too.”

“What do you think it is?” Sebastian asked as he followed dutifully, eyeing the orange-hued gold in the container. “It feels hot, I can even feel it through the jar.”

“Indeed...” The Keeper murmured, examining their contaminated jar. “I was jabbing at his painful memories of his girlfriend dumping him, and it was definitely E-Pain when I extracted it, but it turned into… this, halfway through extraction.”

Sebastian's expression was thoughtful for a moment, before he suggested. “What if it's anger? I mean, I can imagine him being angry at her betrayal.”

“And anger feeds off pain!” The Keeper nodded. “That makes sense, that's why it turned this jar too, anger is contagious and burns through any other emotion. Hm, we'll need to store them in different places then...”

“I wonder what effects this'll have.” Sebastian gave them an impish grin and the Keeper chuckled, holding up their jar with a smirk.

“Only one way to find out...”