Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter The First: In Which The Principle Characters Are Introduced, And Many Eyes Are Opened

The nightclub pounded and throbbed, dancers moving seamlessly in and out and through the crowd. The dance floor was full, and the DJ spun perfectly from one track to the next, by far the best performance of her life. The balcony tables were full of dancers taking a break, but always seemed to clear out just enough seats as others realized they needed a break. At the beating heart of the dance floor, a tall and buff man danced with anyone and everyone who asked. His long face was host to a perpetual smile, his dreadlocks bouncing to the beat, and the only sign of the hours spent dancing was a faint gleam of sweat on his brow and the way his shirt molded to his torso. Every partner came away with renewed energy and enthusiasm to dance, to laugh, to live, and his smile was contagious. Though none knew it, or would realize it later, nobody went home that night with a partner they didn't want, and everyone woke up refreshed as if they'd slept a full night.

There was only one spot of quiet, of calm, in the club. In one corner of the club's balcony, sandwiched between the wall and the railing, was placed a small table with one chair. It afforded a view of the entire dance floor and a good portion of the balcony, was in the shadows of the lights and behind the speakers, and a very popular spot. Tonight it was occupied by a lean young man, relaxing back in his chair. His hair swept back along his head into a queue, and his eyes wandered over the crowd without stopping on any one person. While the dancer was built like a swimmer, fit and rippling with muscles, this man was whipcord-lean, carefully forgettable for those who didn't notice his silver irises.

Syaoran smiled faintly to himself. It was obvious to him how much essence Bast was throwing out to make sure everyone enjoyed themselves, but as long as he was careful Syaoran wouldn't mention anything. Nobody in this world would recognize what he was doing, and they'd made it out of enough scrapes to not have too much to worry about in this strange world full of mortals.

His roaming eyes noticed a disruption in the crowded balcony, a minor altercation that nonetheless shouldn't have been happening with Bast around. Intrigued, he got up and made his way through the packed tables to try to figure out who was causing trouble.

"Whaddya mean there's no room? Lemme grab a chair, I can squeeze in right between you pretty ladies!" While the reply was buried in the music, the drunk was loud enough for Syaoran to make his way over. Bast would (and could) go on and on about people's rights to their bodies and the complexities of societal pressures and expectations on bodily autonomy, but Syaoran was more of a doer than a talker, and so settled for appearing between the drunk and the table.

"Is he bothering you ladies?" The table had two 20ish women, both doing their best to not look at the drunk as he continued to attempt to join them.

"Nahh, I was just getting a chair to sit with my girls! Isn't that right?"

"I don't know who this man is, and neither does my sister. So yes, there is a problem." At this, the women turned to look at Syaoran, maneuvering to look at him without making any room in the group. Syaoran turned to face the man who was attempting to push his way past.

"As these women clearly don't wish to receive any more of your attentions, I'm going to have to ask you to find another place to sit. I hear there are some comfortable benches by the bus stop just down the road."

"Hey now, who asked you, buddy? Last I checked, you weren't a lady, or is there something wrong with your tits?" He swayed foreword, hands waving in the general area of Syaoran's chest. "I, however, am a certified member of the Tit Inspecting Tribunal Service, and we TITS must take our jobs seriously. Once I'm done examining those ladies I'll get to you and give you a final verdict."

Syaoran's eyebrow rose as the drunk again tried to push past him. "I'm afraid I've never heard of a…" "Tit Inspecting Tribunal Service? Whaddya mean? We're all official like, got these pins and we pay membership and everything!" The drunk pointed at his lapel, shockingly absent of any and all pins. "Or well, I had a pin, musta left it somewhere, I know I got something in one of these pockets here." Mumbling, he began running his hands over his oddly long jacket.

"None the less, as you seem to be lacking in any official identification, I am going to have to ask you to leave before you upset any more patrons of this establishment. Come along please sir, I wouldn't want to make a fuss." He stepped forward and grabbed the man's arm, using the leverage and the man's inebriation to propel the man towards the door.

"Now now now, hang on just one minute!" protested the drunk and he stumbled along. "I'll have you know I am an Auror! A police officer to you muggles! Unhand me, before I make you regret it!" His shouts were attracting attention in the balcony, and for once Syaoran wished he was willing to use charms when surrounded by mortals. "Let me go! I'll curse you for this, don't you doubt it! I have powerful friends in the Ministry; they can have your job and your house like that!" He tried, and failed, to snap his fingers, only making a slight fwap.

"You are an aurora? Sir, are you sure you only drank alcohol? You must be drunker than I thought if you think you're a collection of particles being energized by radiation from the sun!" He used the focus of the drunk to guide him safely down the stairs and through the side of the club towards the side entrance.

"Wha? Particles being what now? No, I'm an Auror" he stretched the word out, as if speaking to a four year old. "That means I get to chase down wizards what haven't paid prote- err taxes an' dues, an' an' guard the Ministry an' all that!"

"So you work for a crime lord? Why are you being so obvious about it? From my understanding of this country, that isn't something you parade around as public knowledge." They were almost at the door, and Bast was making his way through the crowd, having caught the struggle out of the corner of his eye. Syaoran looked over his shoulder as he made his way to the door. "You didn't have to stop dancing, I can handle this, you know."

"Yeah, well, I want to meet the guy who can ignore my charms." Bast's smile had faded slightly, but his face still held a light flush, and his clothing still clung perfectly to his body. He followed the two out of the club, waving at the bouncer as they escorted their drunken companion away from the omnipresent line.

The man shook out of their grasp just as they reached the mouth of an alley, and a small stick appeared in his hand. "Get back! You Muggles don't know who you're dealing with! Don't make me use this; I am authorized to use force if necessary!"

"That's a stick. A small one at that." Syaoran turned to look at Bast. "What's he gonna do, poke us to death? Even you'd be hard pressed to use that!" Turning back to the man, Syaoran stretched out one hand. "Give me that thing before you poke out your eye or something!"

"Back off! Don't you dare threaten me! Expulso!" Syaoran felt a push, centered right between Bast and himself, as if something was trying to separate them.

"Huh. Well, that's new." Syaoran turned to Bast. "What do you think these Heyyyyy they're new!" He turned, lightning filling his hands as he faced the four robed people appearing out of the shadows.

"Aren't you supposed to know when people are coming?" Bast gave Syaoran a sidelong glance. "Or are you slipping?"

"Oi! That's not-"

"Obliviate!"

Syaoran and Bast looked stunned, staring into each others' eyes.

"OW!"

Chapter Text

“Obliviate!”

“OW!”

Bast stood stunned, staring at Syaoran, his face changing from blank to a pure vision of anger. “What in the name of all that is unholy was that! Did someone try to run a scrub brush through my brain!?”

“No idea,” replied Syaoran, “But I think it had something to do with these fine people in their fancy robes holding those sticks, seeing as our friend the enforcer seems to be standing with them. Oi! You lot! I’m not done with you yet!” With that, he sprung up, running along the alley wall to land in front of the group of black robes. “Where do you think you’re going after pulling something like that!? You do realize someone could get hurt by that! Do you even stop to think what kind of damage willy-nilly memory reformatting can do!?”

“Now, now, brother, as far as they know they just did us a service, seeing as apparently it would be Bad with a capital B if” Bast paused, mouth twisting around his words “Muggles found out about their ‘special powers’. No, they’re fine with just going around re-writing memories as needed to keep up some sort of ‘Masquerade’, and they are officials, of a sort. They’re Obliviators, special members of the Magical Law Enforcement division of the British Ministry of Magic (whoever that may be). Our friend there is an Auror, some sort of magistrate and Eye agent rolled into one, with more or less a blank jade to do as he feels necessary to preserve the aforementioned fiction.”

That got a pause out of the group, and as one they turned and stared at Bast. “What? Oh, where did I get that? I felt it was fair turn-about to go into your heads, or at least Mr. Dawlish’s over there, seeing as you saw fit to go into ours and re-write things. Brother, I think we need to teach them how to close their minds, their shields barely hold their thoughts inside much less keep anyone who wants to get in out.”

“Excuse me, but what do you mean?” One man stepped forward, lowering the hood of his robes to reveal a bald black head. “I, at least, am trained to detect and resist the best leglimancers known, and I didn’t feel a thing. Who might you be, and how did you get that information?”

“I am Bast, of Wallport, and that over there is my brother, Syaoran. As to how I got that information, Mr. Dawlish over there has terrible mental control, and so I took a stroll around. Nothing too invasive I promise, just a less damaging version of what you tried to do.

“I think we should go with you, since I get the feeling this Amelia Bones seems like someone I would get along with, as do you Mr. Shacklebolt.” Bast nodded towards Syaoran, who walked towards the group, wiping his hands on his pants as he did so.

“Okay, now I’m lost. It seems like you know more about us than we do about you, and I’m not sure how comfortable I am with that, especially seeing how easily you are getting into our heads. Now-“

“Head, singular event and singular head. All we had to do was a quick probe, and I swear we haven’t gone in since, nor will we unless threatened or explicitly invited. That would be rude.” Bast smiled, and the Aurors relaxed with that assurance, as someone with that kind of winning smile couldn’t possibly be lying. “Shall we be off then? We’ll come along with you fine fellows, if you don’t mind too much. To the Ministry!” Bast smiled broadly at the Aurors, and walked over to touch the arm of one of the younger members. “After you, then.” Shacklebolt, looking more than slightly bewildered, sighed and nodded at the rest of the group, grabbed Dawlish, and with that they disapperated.

The Ministry was built to impress. Black marble walls and floors, halls full of busy staffers, memos flitting above the crowds, all flowing around and leading the eye to center on the larger than life statue presenting an obvious idealization of power- Wizard, robes flowing dramatically, clasping his Wife to his side, surrounded by adoring Muggles, Elves and various other magical beasts. Syaoran schooled his face into a practiced mask of polite interest, noticing the small signs of stratification- shabby, older robes keeping to the sides of the halls with eyes focused down or ahead, while down the center of the halls strolled well-kempt men, discussing various important bits of policy, passively ignoring the crush to either side. The group moved through the center of the halls with little trouble, passing entrances labeled as various sub-departments as they made their way through meandering halls and moving boxes he though were called ‘elevators’. Each department was a study in contrasts- some were stiffly silent, supervisors centered in rooms of tiered workstations, while others were busy and bustling.

Hey, Bast.

This still works? Huh- I’d’ve thought that since we weren’t- whatever. What’s up?

This place remind you of anywhere?

Any office of the Thousand Scales? Or walking down the street of any Imperial city? Getting to know who’s who’ll be interesting. Usual split, then?

Sure, though I’m not sure how well I can blend in here- don’t have a good enough sense of the rules here, they seem different from the outside world.

“Here we are- m’lad! Err, that’s Magical Law Enforcement- Auror Division.”

“Finally, I can get this issue sorted out! I will not stand for this kind of treatment by muggles I’ll have you know! I still don’t think they should even be here, this is a violation of-“

“Oh shut up Dawlish! Let Madam Bones deal with them, you go sober up at your desk.” Kingsley turned to his ‘guests’. “If you two will come with me, I’ll introduce you to our director, Madam Bones. Right this way please, gentlemen.” Nodding, Bast followed, Syaoran a half-step behind as they made their way through the desks and piles of reports to a door far in the back of the room.

“Yet again Madam Bones, you have disrupted my evening with a search of my entire house, disrupting my evening plans, and have come up empty handed. This continued persecution of my family cannot be a good usage of Ministry funds, and I fully intend to broach it to the Minister at our lunch this Friday.”

“Be that as it may, Mr. Malfoy, I have another appointment coming in now, so if you will excuse me...” At that, the door opened and out stepped a tall man in impeccable robes with long, straight white hair. “Ahh, there you are Kingsley! Come in, come in.” The woman’s voice was confident and relaxed, and as the man walked out Syaoran noticed a concealed twitch of irritation, presumably at the abrupt dismissal.

Once the door had closed, Syaoran leaned against it, content to let Bast take the lead. The woman behind the desk looked first at him, then at Bast, before turning to Kingsley. “I assume there’s a good reason you brought these gentlemen in? Does it have anything to do with that stink I heard Dawlish making outside?”

“Err, yes ma’am. They resisted an Obliviate, and asked to speak to you by name and title, after not recognizing Dawlish when he made clear his status as an Auror.”

“It’s actually more complicated than that, Madam Director.” Bast stepped forward. “We’re, well, not from around here, and we’ve just been trying to blend in. I’m Bast, of Wallport, and leaning against your door back there is my brother Syaoran. We’re travelers, of a sort, and didn’t intend on causing any trouble. Your man back there was causing a scene at a club, and my brother asked him to leave before he offended any other customers. He then attempted to attack us, after which your men arrived and were quite rude in their assumption that we were better off not remembering any of our interaction with Auror Dawlish. This led to a conversation, where it was decided that we had better talk to you before any more unpleasantness occurred, and so here we are.” Bast’s face was as open as ever, projecting a degree of honesty and straightforwardness that would amaze any observer not caught by its power.

“Not from around here, eh? Where, pray, is Wallport then? I’ve never heard of it, and you seem to be able to do things I thought impossible, and coming from me that’s saying a lot.”

At this , Syaoran pushed off the door. “That’s, err, rather more complicated than we want to get into right now, but rest assured we have no desire to make life any more complicated for you than it already seems to be. As for what we can do, Show us yours and we’ll show you ours.”

Bast glared back at his brother. “Not, quite, how I was going to put it, but it would be nice to get a demonstration of what you, err, Wizards are capable of doing. Not everything, by all means, but some idea would be welcome. In return, of course, we’ll provide a show of what we do, though how we do it is not really my specialty.”

“Well then, I think I know just the place! The exams for promotion to Auror are occurring right now, aren’t they Shacklebolt? Isn’t that daughter of Andromeda’s in that class?”

“Yes, I do believe so, ma’am.”

“Good, then we’ll go watch, so these gentlemen can get a grasp of what we do, and then maybe they’ll grace us with a demonstration once the exams are over.” With that, she got up from her desk and headed to the door, pulling the rest along behind her. “Since we’ll be in an elevator for a while, go ahead and makes things a little less ‘complicated’ for me, will you?” She looked at Syaoran and he shivered, swearing his existence as a mouse facing her hungry cat.

“Yes’m!”
________________________________________

“You’re right, that is complicated, and I bet that’s not the half of it. Well, this should be enlightening for all of us!” The Director led the way out of the elevator after a good six minute trip where she demonstrated just how good she was at getting pertinent information from a long story.

Syaoran followed her into a large, open room with various circles and training areas marked out via patterns in the hardwood floor. He had the feeling Director Bones could get any kind of information out of anyone, given enough time in an elevator.

“Attention! Director entering!”

“At ease everyone! Commandant, how are the exams progressing?”

“Well enough, ma’am. No deaths yet, and I hope to keep the injuries below 50% this year!”

“Ambitious! Well, carry on, and once these are done I want your best upcoming duelist for a quick exhibition match.”

Syaoran and Bast watched, impressed, as the exams for Auror continued. Throughout the room, there were trainees taking written exams, dueling each other, dueling teachers, stirring cauldrons, and in general making a racket of noise and light. Syaoran pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, and seemed to look closely at a few particular students, and one of the duelists. She had a carefree arrogant air about her, one that only lasted as long as she didn’t move and demonstrate her innate clumsiness. Bast noted that her hair couldn’t seem to decide on a color, and would bounce between purple, pink, and various reds depending on how the duel with the student was going.

After a time, Bast had wondered over to one of the cauldrons to chat quietly with the proctor while Syaoran stayed watching the duels. Finally, the trainees finished up their exams, and presented their results to the proctors, and the man who Director Bones had introduced as the Commandant made his way over to where she and Syaoran were standing. He was accompanied by the young woman they had noticed earlier, her hair having settled on purple with pink stripes.

“This here is Rookie Tonks, ma’am, sir. She does seem to be my best duelist; thanks in part, no doubt, to that training you and your guards have been providing her during her rookie year. Who will she be up against?”

I got this one brother.

You sure you know what you’re doing? We agreed to let me take care of impressions.

I know what I’m doing- This will be very beneficial for all of us, if I’m right.

If.

Syaoran stepped forward, offering his hand. “I have the pleasure of this, Miss Tonks.” Tonks took his hand and paused, looking intently at and through him. “Now, I don’t want you to go easy on me. In fact, don’t hold back at all. I want to see what you can do.”

Brother?

Relax, I got this. If you’re interested, open your eyes and look at her.

“First to three touches? Any contact, be it spell or otherwise, counts as a touch?” Syaoran looked inquiringly first at Tonks, then at her teachers and mentors.

“Just one thing, sir. Rookie, nothing lethal, you understand? I expect you to demonstrate what you’ve picked up on all that time I let you have at the Director’s house with your cousin!” The Commandant looked eager to see the duel regardless of the strictness of his tone. “Any objections?”

“When you put it like that, sir, no sir!” A casual grin erupted on her face, a much better fit than the stern look she’d affected for the exams. “Do well or I start running laps until I collapse, I understand sir!”

Seeing her grin, Bast settled back with Shacklebolt and the Director. He didn’t quite get what Syaoran meant by look, but he figured he’d see soon enough. All he had to do was watch and make sure his brother didn’t accidentally kill this mortal, regardless of her talent.

Syaoran rolled up his sleeves and strolled out into the middle of the floor before turning to face Tonks, who made her own way out to the floor, leaving a generous amount of space between Syaoran and herself. They turned, and bowed as one. Tonks pulled her wand out, double checked her laces were tied and her hair out of her eyes, then nodded to the Commandant. He looked at Syaoran who nodded, eyes barely leaving Tonks. He watched as she dropped into a ready stance, body turned so as to present a smaller target, wand extended but arm flexed, ready for anything. Her eyes were intense, focusing on nothing and everything, trying to watch his eyes and his torso at the same time- she had figured the distance well, he realized- her shorter stature meant that she had to stand farther to get a good view of him than he would.

“Begin!”

Chapter Text

“Begin!”

Tonks, all warmed up from testing the trainees, fired off a silent stunner as soon as the Commandant had finished. Her plan was straightforward: fast burst of spells, and then back off to see the result. Thus, her stunner was followed by a volley of various disabling and/or disorienting spells, only some of which were officially sanctioned by the Ministry for use by Aurors. There was, however, one problem with this plan- it assumed that her opponent would counter with spells of his own.

Syaoran, wanting a good idea for what these wizards could do, stood still and took it. As a result, most spells after the first stunner missed as Tonks evidently assumed dodging and countering, and so had spread her spells to counter potential movement. She was therefore nonplussed to see Syaoran stand still and take what amounted to two stunners, one disorienting hex, and no less than three jelly-leg curses, and stay standing. In fact, if they hadn’t seen each jet of light hit him, they would have sworn that Tonks had missed.

“Interesting.”

Tonks readied herself again, waiting for Syaoran to make his move, and more than a little off-put by how easily he shrugged off some fairly obnoxious spells. Balanced perfectly on the balls of her feet, body turned back to present as small of a target as possible while still providing for movement to dodge or counter, wand focused squarely on his center of mass, she waited for him to do something, anything. Then, he moved. He must have, though nobody saw it, for one moment he was facing Tonks on the far side of the dueling area, and the next he was standing just behind her, grinning, heel of his palm placed on the back of her neck.

“Touch”

Syaoran, smiling, almost missed the girl’s disengage, it was that well executed. She turned, keeping her wand hand on the inside of their bodies out of his view as her other hand swept his away from any threatening position, ending with her wand poking his stomach, her other hand holding his arm, and her purple eyes glaring into his.

“Touch, one each. Back to your positions, please.”

Syaoran stepped back carefully, and gave her a half-bow before turning to stride back to one of the marks. Tonks watched him warily, this time ready to react, not act. She focused, trying to be calm and ready the way Auror Moody always described, that perfect passive awareness that led to “CONSTANT! VIGILANCE!” As she waited, she sank into herself more than she ever had before, her awareness simultaneously going deep within and expanding to encompass more and more of her surroundings. A small part of her brain wondered if the best Aurors felt like this ever, but that was pushed aside in favor of the more important sense of something around her opponent. She could feel him; feel him reaching towards her with the very air itself. Her face still, she focused even more on what her new senses were telling her, trying to tell just what this strange man was doing. She saw him shift, but more importantly she felt just how he moved, pushing the air in front and pulling a gust behind as he flew towards her, curving around to end just behind her again. This time, however, she could feel what he was doing, and so she pushed back just so.

Syaoran started. Instead of ending up behind his opponent, he was ten or so yards off to her side, having curved tighter than anticipated. “Interesting! Instead of matching strength against mine, you diverted me! Well do-“ the smile disappeared from his face as he flowed sideways, arms sweeping a circle as if to clear cobwebs from his face.

“Huh. That was a waste.” Bast frowned slightly.

“What was, err, Bast?”

“That bolt she threw at him- didn’t you see it? It was all jagged, as you’d expect from a novice, but much too wide for any practical use. Too much essence spent to do very little in the end.”

The wizards standing with him collectively stared at a man describing things they couldn’t see with terms they didn’t understand; while not twenty feet away his brother seemed to be staring fiercely at the big space of nothing resting between the two combatants.

“You must tell me who her teacher is; she obviously doesn’t have enough control to be trusted with something that advanced yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if my brother has something to say to her later.”

“Teacher? Well, the Commandant here oversees the instruction of trainees, and there are a few specialists here, but nothing having to do with, err, essence is covered in Auror training, or even at Hogwarts, at least if my daughter is to be believed.”

Bast spun around to stare at the Director. “She’s untrained!? Oh Gods, I’m so glad I’m not out there right now.”

She’s untrained, Brother! You need to contain her; I’ll get the mortals out of here.

Got it.

Bast moved between the observers and the combatants, gesturing for the Commandant to back off. “Is there somewhere we can watch but not be in this room? It’s about to get very hostile in here, and that rookie of yours will need as few distractions as possible.”

“There’s the observation platform that hasn’t been used in years, ever since the Dueling wards were put in. What do you mean- hostile? He better not hurt her, or-“

“He will do nothing- my concern is for you. That rookie is in the best hands she can be in right now.” Bast’s eyes and smile were positively beaming reassurance and confidence. “However, she will need space to, well, expand her horizons, and that tends to be an once-in-a-lifetime show for mortals.” The implications in his words were overborne by the pure relaxed confidence he exuded as Bast practically dragged the gathered wizards out of the examination hall and slammed the door shut. Here he paused for a moment, hands braced against the old wood of the door, before turning back with that radiant smile that caused all worries and fears to fall away. Really, who could be worried about the well-being of a rookie when Bast of all people was reassuring you?

“So then!” Bast clapped his hands together, “We should be off. Where is that observation room you mentioned, Amelia?”

“It’s, err, this way. Did he just call me-“

“All right, let’s get moving people. No need to dilly-dally around here when we can be somewhere behind wood and glass and wood to watch the proceedings.” A slight wince ghosted over one eye, but it didn’t linger long enough to break the mask of confidence and trust that was firmly etched into Bast’s face. He was very glad for the time he’d spent practicing expanding his personal essence with his brother, and sorry that it took so many unsubtle pointers to get him to start. Never before had he so badly been glad to not have his anima glowing around him than the eternal three minutes it took to shepherd the various proctors who had gathered to watch what their Commandant had promised would be a promising bout.

How’s it going, brother?

Little busy, no control, panicking, emotions spiking. Mortals safe?

Yes, with my power holding the doors closed.

Good. Stop bother.

By the time the group reached the observation room, all they could see were glowing runes and pictograms enclosing a hail and lightning storm where the center of the room should have been.

“Mr Bast?” one of the exam proctors was looking at the flickering storm. “Isn’t lighting supposed to be a bright white?”

“Just Bast will do, and, normally, yes. However, these are not normal circumstances, and that is not normal lightning. How many colors do you see down there?” His eyes were closed, hands pressed flat against the wooden frame holding the window in place.

“Well, mainly black. I didn’t even know you could have something be blindingly black.” Her tone was one of professional detachment, the kind taken by a detached academic observing and documenting something utterly alien and terrifying.

“Ahh. That would be your young Rookie expressing her emotions. Mainly fear I’d expect, though there probably is some exhilaration mixed it, all held together by a sense of completion. Mind you, that’s a minor storm compared to what someone just a few years younger could do under the wrong circumstances.”

Madam Bones walked over to stand just behind Bast. “That sounds like the voice of personal experience.”

“Oh, not mine, Madam Director. I do know the person well, however, and they are haunted by the nightmares of what happened to this day. A powerful exaltation is dangerous no matter who it happens to, and can easily be affected by the emotions of its recipient.” A shadow crossed Bast’s face. “Imagine a sudden awareness of your surroundings on a more basic level than you could comprehend before. All of the sudden, you know precisely where each thing is for ten or twenty yards, or you can feel everything that moves or rests on the earth, or how every plant feels around you. Couple that with the clumsiness of puberty, and throw in uncontrolled power that is empowered by your emotions, and you have the ingredients for a bomb made of elemental fury and teen hormones, angst and fear.”

Everyone else took a few steps back from the window, most drawing their wands in anticipation of needing to protect somebody from something. “Relax.” The room collectively exhaled. “My brother’s got it under control- he’s confined and controlled exalts as young as eight before. He knows exactly what to do and the fact that-Miss Tonks?-is eighteen just makes it easier for him. She has a much better understanding of who, and more importantly what, she is, than most exalts when they receive their power.”

“That,” Director Bones paused, quirking her head at Bast, “is more reassuring than it should be.”

“What can I say? I’m a reassuring person, or so I’ve heard. Rarely helps me calm down, though.”

An awkward chuckle swept the room. Most of the proctors went back to watching the storm, especially as it seemed to be calming down. At least most of the ice and lightning was gone; all that was left were the flying runes and the swirling gusts of air, though the glow of the runes blocked most of the view of the two points of interest within the shield.

“Well, now that the show’s over, I need to have a word with the Director, and probably the Commandant, too. In case anyone wanted to know, I do believe that your rookie down there scored the last touch, so victory to her.” The proctors turned and filed out, each looking like they just remembered all the papers they still had to grade and file before the end of the day.

“What is this word you want to have with us?” The Director’s wand had never left her hand, and now its tip was rising up to point at Bast’s back as he stepped back from the frame.

“Nothing bad, I assure you. Just, while my brother’s down there cleaning up, there are a few things we should go over about your rookie and her new powers. Specifically, my brother is going to need to stay near her for the next few months at the least, to make sure her powers don’t outgrow her control.”

“Yes, let’s talk. I believe you can answer a few questions from me, and if you say what I think you will, you’ll answer some questions that have been floating around for a few days now.” Three chairs settled into the room, one simple wooden chair facing two others across the room.

________________________________________

Syaoran kept his focus on the meditating Tonks as he heard his brother re-enter the training room. “Nice job getting them out quick, but Tonks here has better control than many- she had a shield up between you and us before I was able to activate that circle I picked up in the South. She’s got potential- good control.”

“Is that so? As much as we worked on that in training, I’d expect nothing less!” The commandant strode towards the two resting figures. “You have a new assignment, rookie! This lad here’ll be teaching up at Hogwarts this fall, and you’ll be assisting. It’s all been decided, Mr. Bast over there cleared up some questions left over from the Cup last week.”

“More exaltations then? And what, exactly, is Hogwarts?” Syaoran’s eyes drifted over Tonks’ shoulder to the door.

I’ll fill you in later on who’s who and what’s what, but chin up, brother. More newbies, and they’ve got even less control. “Yes, more exaltations. Here they are, a bumper crop if I’ve ever seen one. Poor souls, they all exalted last week at some sporting event, when some trouble makers made trouble. Since then they’ve been kept asleep until some decision could be made.” Bast stepped to the side to allow a group of wizards in white and red robes escorted the floating bodies of ten teenagers. I think some wanted them to stay asleep, one or two in particular. I’m catching up fast to internal politics, and from the sound of it some parts could rival the Realm. “Anyway, go ahead and get set up for basic control containment, the spells can be dropped whenever.” Bast’s eyes flashed as the last of the children was brought in. “Of course, half of these kids don’t know anyone in this room, so who knows their state when they wake up.” Get knocked out during an elemental storm, wake up somewhere different bound by unfamiliar power- these wizards come up with some great ideas, don’t they?

“Right then.” Syaoran dusted his hands off, standing in a peculiar way that omitted any state between seated and standing. “Get them laid out over there, then back off a little. Leave some space between them, say half a body-length, just in case. I don’t suppose anyone has any ink and a brush?”

Somebody conjured a basic calligraphy brush as the children were laid throughout the room. The attendants backed off under Bast’s glares, leaving only Madam Bones and some of her Aurors close to the comatose children. Syaoran worked his way around each child, then in a larger circle excluding the adults but including Bast and himself along with the kids. He left inked sigils and runes as he went, enclosing the many circles. He stopped before closing the large circle, and gestured at Tonks to join him.

“Drop the sleep spells. Anyone who these children will not immediately recognize as non-threatening, leave. Now.” One of the wizards murmured something and nodded at him before leaving. Sealing the circle, Syaoran glided to the center of the circle, gathering wind and power in a swirling maelstrom that flowed into the runes in each circle. They began to glow with a hot white light, the brightness of lightning at the moment of the strike as the air became charged with ozone. He built the power to a crescendo, and held it for three long seconds.

“Princes of the Earth, AWAKEN!”

Chapter Text

Chapter The Fourth: In Which Results Are Examined

“Princes of the Earth, AWAKEN!”

The ten new exalts jerked upright, power bursting out in a rainbow of black, red, green, blue, and brown. Syaoran and Bast blinked, half-blinded by the flux of essence despite the intervening wards.

“Ahh the flare of new exaltations- I’d forgotten just how utterly blinding it can be.” Syaoran squinted for a few moments before blinking one final time and straightening up. “There, that’s gotten that adjusted. Now, how are you all feeling?” The colors were fading, and inside each circle a teenager was slouching down in exhaustion.

“Ikle Ronnie-kins-“

“I do believe that we told you-“

“Not to mess with our trunks!”

The twin redheads were managing to glare bemusedly at a third redhead who was giving as good as he got.

“I didn’t touch your trunks! Last thing I knew, we were in those woods watching Death Eaters torturing Muggles.”

“Please, Weasley, if that is what you think torture is, where have you been when Longbottom’s in potions? That’s torture, if you ask me.” This drawl came from the platinum blonde standing a few circles over.

Syaoran cleared his throat. “Excuse me? I hate to interrupt petty bickering, but, well, I’m interrupting.” He was impressed by the sheer power of the glares coming from the bickerers, smiling at their sheer combined frustration and teenage hormones. “So, while it seems clear that you know one another, neither my brother nor I know you, so I do believe introductions are in order. I am Syaoran, Child of Mela, and your primary teacher until you satisfy me with your control. Standing next to me is my brother, Bast, Child of Sextes Jylis, and my co-teacher in control. Next to him is Auror Tonks, new Child of Mela, and my assistant in teaching control and in combining essence and your magics.” Tonks started slightly at this introduction, side-eyeing Syaoran in surprise at her new job. “Now, what are your names? Once we’re through with that, I’ll go into more detail on what exactly happened to land you in my tender mercies.”

“Harry Potter” Hmm, Fire.

“Hermione Granger, and did you call us princes!?” Air.

“Ron Weasley” Fire, again

“Ginny Weasley” Another fire. Runs in the family?

“Gred and Forge Weasley” Syaoran’s skeptical look brought out the twins’ famous cheeky grins. “Fred and George, then.” Air and Earth, guess not.

“Neville Longbottom” Wood, here’s one for you brother.

“Hannah Abbott” And another Wood.

“Susan Bones” Water- interesting.

“Draco Malfoy” And finally another Wood.

Are you up to a group this diverse, brother?

Have some faith, Bast! I’ve worked with worse groups, I’ll just wrangle you for the finicky bits, I promise.

“Right. Nice to meet you all, and I’m sorry for any confusion I might cause you, I’ll do my best to explain. First, yes I did call you all Princes, it’s the nomenclature and my family and I have tried to change it, but it’s hard to go against the bureaucracy, especially when we can’t find the forms we need.” Hermione’s face turned from creased with anger to creased with thought. “Now, if you will all have a seat, I’ll explain why you’re surrounded by runes, and we can get started on your control so you can leave.”

“Control of what?” The blond boy, Malfoy?, seemed to perk up at that.

“Yes, control. Self-control specifically. You each now are inheritors of vastly complex elemental powers. These powers take cues from your emotions, and you need to learn how to control them before I trust you to return to school.

"You are all recipients of certain elemental powers, gifted to you by the five Great Dragons- Mela of Air, Pasiap of Earth, Hesiesh of Fire, Daana'd of Water, and Sextes Jylis of Wood. These grant you access to the elemental building blocks of life and the world around you, allowing you to preform feats of greatness, strengthened only by your willingness to work together. Know that all of you working individually are weaker than two of you working in concert, and in large numbers there are few limits on what you can accomplish. However, before you get to the point of bending the very laws that underpin this universe, you must learn to control your powers and not kill yourself or anyone around you- for know this." Syaoran lost his jovial smile. "You are, at your heart, each warriors. The powers you inherit were designed to supply you with the power to be the soldiers and commanders in a war against the creators of the collected universes. You were all lucky in your exaltations- nobody was hurt and the damage to the forest was mended by the wizards on the scene. Many are not so lucky."

Bast stepped forward. "We will begin with mediation" he said, "as it is the first step to both control and understanding what you can do now better than anything either of us could tell you. Once we are satisfied with your grasp of the basics of control, we will drop the wards and let you get some rest. You have all been provided housing by the Ministry, and your parents have all been informed."

"Housing?!"

"When my father hears about this"

"What did he mean, not so lucky?"

"Why can't we go home?"

Bast and Syaoran shared a smile at the babble from the teenagers. "Hey Tonks, think they'll let us continue any time soon?"

Tonks started, looking between the brothers to try to see which had spoken. "Um, er, huh?

"Think they'll quit asking questions over each other so we can get back to work?" Syaoran was smiling, enjoying talking just loud enough to be heard over the continued questions.

The rest of that week was full of lessons in various offices of the ministry, with Bast and Syaoran learning as much about the wizarding world as they could while teaching the new exalts how to control their powers, and some rudimentary uses of their new abilities (resulting in some interesting accidents, including one involving a dozen spell-check quills, a gallon of pink ink, three owls and one quite irate undersecretary). By the 29th of August, Syaoran was ready to pronounce the new exalts as safe enough to be sent to school on their own, with the understanding that any misuse of their powers would be dealt with by him upon arrival.

“Are you going to let them know Tonks’ll be on the train with them?” Syaoran looked up from packing his bag with eyebrows raised. “I mean, they can’t honestly expect you to trust them to not use their powers less than a week after learning about them, can they?” Bast was perched on the edge of a perfectly upholstered and tastefully decorated chair by the immaculate fireplace that took up one wall of the room.

“Honestly? You’re the one who’s worked more with their ministry. From what I’ve heard, it isn’t rare for them to practically ignore everything that happens on the train, relying mainly on the older students to keep the younger ones in check.” The earnest look in Syaoran’s eyes was spoiled by his Cheshire grin. “All I’m doing is following in that tradition- Tonks is only a year or so out of school, and that change power of hers means she’ll blend in just fine. Besides- I’m relying on you, Mr. Assistant to the Undersecretary-at-Large without portfolio, to make sure any complaints get lost in the reams of paperwork you’re sure to generate.”

Bast winced. “Don’t remind me, please. The ‘taskforce’ they’ve given me is even worse than that title- ‘The Committee for the Undersecretary-at-Large without portfolio’s examination of internal communication tasked with rectifying documentable lapses in security while maintaining mandated transparency guidelines’. Really, could they have made it any less clear they don’t want me poking around!?” He gestured with the cartoon book he’d finished earlier. “This is worse than what the mortals use as farce! I half-expect somebody to ask for permit A-38 or something!”

“Well, I’m sure I’ll hear all about the trip when this transport object, Portkey was it? activates. I’ll keep in touch brother.” Syaoran shouldered his bags and gave the room one last sweep. “Do try not to enjoy these simple accommodations too much now, understand brother dear?”

“This is where your raised expectations show- these are hardly simple mister I’ve-been-living-in-the-life-of-luxury!-“

Syaoran grunted as he felt a tugging at his navel, and the world spiraled out of focus, colors blurring past as he spun through not-air, ending in a sudden heap. Looking up, his eyes met those of one of the most reassuringly intimidating women he had ever seen.

“Welcome to Hogwarts Professor Syaoran.”