You quietly wandered the almost endless area that was the Pizzaplex. It was always lonely at night, you never had anyone to play with. The only thing that was heard were your metallic footsteps, you messed about as you went to your usual spot, the gift shop.

Your objective as an animatronic was pretty simple, look for kids who were left out and play with them! It was pretty fun for the most part, until whatever kid you were playing with got bored of you and went with a friend group. Your body was composed of a soft, plush material, which made you perfect for hugs! You were also small like a child. You were very approachable to the kids. Sometimes when you walked out here during the nights you wished that you could draw or paint with someone, usually you hung out with Sun whenever you or him had time. It was night time though, so you couldn't do that.

Speaking of which, you weren't supposed to be out. You had your own room, which was just a mock stage room with a charging station tailor made for you. You really needed to go and charge, you would act like an overtired toddler the next day if you were below a certain charge. Your programming was a little TOO realistic. No one could figure out how you managed to get loose at night, Vanessa couldn't even figure out how you escaped through the cams. It was just that magic convenience.

Being a mini Houdini at night got you to forge a friendship with Sunny's counterpart, Moon. You'd escape, he'd find you and bring you back. You'd escape again, rinse and repeat. He found it very irritating at first, but eventually he found you endearing. It was nice having someone who wasn't scared of you around, even if they were just a robo-kid. After a while you two developed a brother-sibling relationship, neither of you could really complain. It was fun talking about how your days went while Moon carried you back to your designated area. Some nights he didn't even bother taking you back if you were above a certain percentage, or if you day had gone slowly.

You had managed to get into the plushies and battery acid Fizzy Faz before you heard a voice.

"Naughty child, you should be in bed.~" His tone was playful, having been used to you already. "MOONY!" You shouted eagerly as you ran up to him, jumping off the small platform you were on. He picked you up, carrying you on his hip. "What are you doing now? You know you're not supposed to get into the Fizzy Faz, you know what it does to you." "But I charge when I drink it Moony!" Moondrop looked at you with a deadpan expression. "Yes, but at what cost? We are NOT dealing with you hopped up on Fizzy Faz again. Fazbear said he didn't want a repeat of last time." You pouted, crossing your arms in defiance. "No!" "I don't have time to be dealing with this! You're at less than half of your charge!" You knew how stubborn Moondrop was, so you decided not to fight it this time. "Fine...can I please have a plushie at least?...Please?"

"Hmm..." He decided to have some fun, dragging out his answer. He knew you had a bit before you'd start getting cranky, he wasn't worried yet. His head tilted, rotating clockwise a bit, then counterclockwise. "P-Please?" You begged him with an even bigger pout, busting out the puppy dog eyes. He responded to that with a playful eye roll and a sigh. He appreciated that you had the capability to understand his way of joking. "Fine, but only ONE. After this I'll take you back to rest, you know you've already been naughty by leaving your room." You quickly snatched up a Moon plush. He was almost flattered.

Moon's upper half did a 180* as he started back on the path to your room. His lower half followed suit.

"Moony?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you like me?"

"You're one of the few children I can tolerate causing trouble during naptime. Which is surprising. Because you're an animatronic. You cause a lot of trouble around here, it's also surprising, I didn't think anyone other than Chica and Roxy could stir up much trouble. You're very special to me, is what I'm trying to say. You're what the guests would consider...a sibling to me."

You responded with a warm hug to him. You clung to him like a koala. "Aww Moony, you're like a brother to me too!!!" He smiled at you, patting your head.

The trip back was quiet for the most part, occasionally you'd point out different areas that you'd played in earlier that day, to which he would go "Oh, really?" and then ask a tiny follow up question.

When you both arrived to your door, Moony slowly opened the door for you. You had been noticeably more tired (your entire body was running on an energy saver like mode, your body was much less reactive and your voice volume was much lower than usual) on the way back. Moon went off on his usual routine to put you to sleep, setting you down on your bed like charging station. It was the size of a regular charging station, just in bed form. You loved it. It even came with a Pizzaplex brand microfiber blanket and pillow (why it was so specific left everyone wondering) for you. As Moon tucked you in you held onto his blue and white hand. "Moony? I don't wanna be alone...can you stay with me?"

"Y/N, you know-"

"I promise to stay tonight!"

"Y/N-"

"And tomorrow!"

"You know I can't"

"Please??"

He let out a groan of defeat before submitting. You weren't going to let up about this. "FINE! Ugh, let me get in." He hopped onto bed, getting himself comfortable with you as you nuzzled your tiny body into his robotic one. As he let you settle down he was surprised at your lack of energy, shutting down for the rest of the night. As rough as he liked to act, he couldn't deny that he had a soft spot for you. Eventually settling down himself, he hunkered down to contemplate his situation.

Who knew that robots could build such tight-knit families?


Hyunjin only really has patience for Seungmin. Not just because Seungmin is cute and he's his boyfriend, though that does play a part in it, but also because Seungmin isn't as extra as the others. He's mainly focusing on Felix, Chan, and Jisung. Although there are times when everyone is extra, including Hyunjin, those three are so extra, it's hard to believe there's any extraness left for anyone else. Seungmin shared his thoughts but he has a heart of gold and he easily gets sucked into being extra. At those times, Hyunjin wishes he could save him but he knows one smile from Seungmin will suck him into being extra as well. But, back to the three who are extremely extra, out of Chan, Jisung and Felix, if Hyunjin had to choose, Felix is the most extra. So that's why it was such a surprise to Hyunjin and the others that Felix was calmly standing with a screaming Jisung by his side while Chan was on the other side of Felix, jumping up and down with - Oh. Seungmin. Hyunjin guessed that he'd have to wait to get normal Seungmin back but he was okay with that. "Shut up, Jisung," Hyunjin said, glaring at Jisung.

"No," Jisung yelled, turning to give Felix a high five. However, Felix simply shook his head and moved to stand beside Hyunjin.

"I'm with Hyunjin on this one. Shut up, Jisung," Felix stated, causing the others to gasp and stare at him in shock. Hyunjin smiled a bit, throwing an arm around Felix's shoulders.

"I guess Felix is no longer extra, seems like you've been replaced, Seungminnie," Hyunjin said as Felix nodded in agreement.

"Felix, no," Chan whined, frowning at the thought of losing his fellow extra Aussie.

"Yeah, as much as we hate his extraness, we agree," Changbin said, pointing at himself, Minho, Woojin, and Jeongin. "That'll be a drastic change."

"Oh well, you'll have to get used to it," Felix replied, shrugging before he turned to Hyunjin. "Let's go somewhere else, Hyunjinnie, there's too much extraness here."

"Yep, let's go, bestie!" The others watched the two of them walk away before turning to each other.

"I feel like something is missing," Jisung said, a bit too dramatic for Minho's and Changbin's liking. Chan nodded in agreement, placing his hand over his heart.

"Guys, it's Felix, he'll be back to normal in no time. How long does he think he can actually last without being extra at least once," Changbin asked, rolling his eyes. Seungmin grinned to himself, he certainly hoped that Felix will go back to normal soon, then he'd win the bet and Felix will have to give him money. However, the answer to Changbin's question came two weeks later as Hyunjin and Felix sat on the couch, judging Chan, Jisung, Seungmin and the others for being extra and loud.

"God, Jisung, shut up," Felix said, rolling his eyes.

"Took the words right from my mouth, Lix," Hyunjin said, patting his shoulder. It has been two weeks of Felix being a completely normal person while Seungmin was being a completely extra person. Hyunjin missed him but normal Felix is a good replacement until Seungmin becomes normal again. Until then, Hyunjin will just be there, patiently waiting while hanging out with Felix. See, if Felix was being extra right now and Seungmin was by Hyunjin's side, Hyunjin would be chasing Jisung, Chan, and Felix around until they agreed to shut up. But since Seungmin is the one being extra, he sat by Felix's side, silently judging Jisung, Chan, and Seungmin.

"Dab, dab, dab," Jisung chanted and Seungmin did each time Jisung told him to while screaming. Shaking their heads, Felix and Hyunjin stood up to walk away but Changbin slid in front of them, causing them to stop. Changbin crossed his arms over his chest, pouting at Felix as he stomped his foot.

"I want my boyfriend back," he said in the cutest voice he could muster. Everyone watched Felix in anticipation, especially Seungmin. To their absolute shock, Felix only snorted and shook his head.

"That's so childish, hyung," Felix said before he walked around Changbin. Hyunjin grinned as he followed after Felix, totally surprised that Felix kept his cool just like the others were.

"Did he just," Woojin trailed off, eyes wide as he turned to Chan who's expression mirrored his. Chan nodded to answer his question even though it was rhetorical.

"I, for sure, thought that was going to break him," Seungmin said, groaning. However, after three more weeks passed, Felix was not the one to break, Seungmin was since he couldn't take it anymore. "Oh my god! I give up!" The others stared at him in confusion as he threw money at a grinning Felix. "Give me my boyfriend back! I want to be normal again!" Felix grinned as he stood up, sliding the money into his pocket.

"I told you, Seungminnie, being extra is a talent only few possess and being normal isn't that hard," Felix said, dabbing as he walked away from Hyunjin. "Oh, Binnie hyung!" Changbin grimaced as Felix came over to him. "I am so sorry for brushing off your cuteness as if it was nothing! You are the cutest human being to ever be born and walk the earth, I love you!" Felix lifted Changbin up and spun him around as he hugged him tightly.

"Aish, put me down, idiot," Changbin said, his cheeks turning a dark shade of red. Felix set him down after kissing his cheek. He then ran over to Chan and Jisung, the others sighed as they waited for the dramatic reunion they were about to witness.

"Felix? Is that really you," Chan asked, fake crying as Felix nodded and pulled him and Jisung into a strong embrace, the three of them fake sobbing and yelling about how much they missed each other. Meanwhile, Seungmin quietly walked over to Hyunjin who sat waiting for him and sat down, leaning over to kiss Hyunjin's cheek.

"Sorry for being extra and leaving you alone with Felix," Seungmin said. Hyunjin nodded his head, smiling as he grabbed Seungmin's hand, lacing their fingers together before they continued to watch Chan, Jisung, and Felix have their overly and very dramatically extra reunion that included louder fake crying and even louder screaming about Felix being gone from them for oh so long, even though it was only five weeks. The others shook their heads as they watched the three and even though they would never, ever admit it, they were extremely happy that things were finally and thankfully normal once again.


It starts with stars glittering high up above Hogwarts Castle, like always, like it had years and years ago, when James and the three people he still calls his closest friends stumbled into a boat and crossed the lake together, for the first time. It starts just like that, simply, with the stars, and with the kinetic reflection of the full moon, cast down on the black, rippling waters of the Great Lake.

An oddly chilly breeze combs through James’ hair, and he pulls his cloak closer, idly wondering if Moony remembered his potion. An ache spreads through his chest, followed closely by a pang of guilt.

He misses nights like these. He regrets them, too.

Nights like this one, nights lit by moonlight, had been filled with wild adventures. The kind of trouble only bored teenagers could manage. The kind only dangerously naive,

arrogant

 teenagers could manage.

Maybe he misses being dangerously naive, untouched by grief, the horrors of war. Just a little bit. Not more than he regrets it, he hopes.

James fetches the Marauder’s Map from his pocket and activates it with a whispered sentence of foolish words. He scans the parchment, and loosens his shoulders when he sees everyone is where they should be. Lily, up in her office, probably slashing her dreaded red ink across a stack of essays, and their children, Prim and Evan, up in Gryffindor Tower, sleeping, hopefully.

With a small sigh, he folds up the map and puts it back. A lot of things were pinned up on hope these days.

“Thinking of going for a swim, Prongs?” asks Sirius, appearing from out of the darkness.

“After you,” says James. He turns from the lake, and watches Sirius gain on him, the sight of him a slight surprise. He isn’t supposed to be stationed at Hogwarts. Not tonight.

“His Highness has called everyone in for an emergency meeting,” explains Sirius. “And by everyone, I mean just the important people… oh, and Snivellus.”

“Lily hates that you still call him that.”

“But you don’t.”

James grimaces, and turns back towards the lake. He doesn’t hate it. He regrets it.

“Has something happened?” asks James, trying to keep the resentment bubbling up through his tone.

He loves being stationed at Hogwarts, keeping guard over his family and the students, but he can’t lie. He misses working the field, the front line, chasing down the bad guys, instead of the bad guys chasing him.

And he doesn’t like being out of loop. Not knowing everything as soon as it’s happening.

“Not much,” says Sirius. “But you know how Tom is. We haven’t seen much of our favorite assassin friend lately, and it’s making him nervous. Paranoid.”

Sirius joins him at the water’s edge, picks up a pebble from the dirt, and skips it across the lake. It slides gracefully, finally sinking when it reaches the center. James is impressed. If they still kept score, like they had when they were kids, that’d be at least a fifty pointer.

“Just cautious,” says James. “Nothing wrong with that, Padfoot.”

Especially not with the way the world is now.

The war casts a shadow even at Hogwarts, and James realizes, maybe for the first time under those stars and the full moon, that he isn’t the only one missing his spark. Hogwarts itself has gone dim.

He picks up a pebble from the ground, squeezes it tight as if making a wish, and lets it fly across the lake. It sails across the water, making just inches further than Sirius’s rock.

Sirius claps his shoulder. “You always were a show off, mate.”

James forces a chuckle, and as it dies, a faint boom shakes the ground. Something orange lights up the Forbidden Forest, eating the trees, sending up smoke.

A few seconds pass, with James and Sirius staring into distance, shocked.

“Padfoot,” says James, finally, blinking at the forest. “Are you seeing this?”

“Seeing what? The spontaneous, raging forest fire?” asks Sirius. “Not at all.”

The two share a grin before taking off, towards the flames, the way they always do when they’re both about to jump head first into something stupidly dangerous.

A small thrill, an echo of something long past, ignites in James’ chest.

* * * * * * * *

It starts with an impulse, with an unknown curse shouted and thrown backwards over his shoulder, while he runs wildly through the Department of Mysteries.

And then he isn’t.

Without explanation, without the unpleasant feeling of being pulled out of one place and placed into another, he’s in a forest. He stops running, stares. His breath is still fast, his chest heaves from sprinting, as he looks around.

He’s in the Forbidden Forest, and it’s uncomfortably hot. Something crackles, pops, behind him. He turns, green eyes growing wide as he sees the chaotic fire burning behind him.

Harry jumps just in time to dodge a tree branch engulfed with flames. He waves his wand, conjuring enchanted water, but it does nothing, just evaporates from the heat of the fire.

He tries again, and again, until he realizes running is the better option and begins ripping through the forest, his wand ready and his mind alert. His feet carry him to a clearing he’s never seen before, and by the time he gets there, he hears voices, familiar ones.

Two voices, to be exact. They’re carelessly uttering Charms, effectively killing the fire Harry had accidentally started, without much sweat.

Harry crosses that particular curse off his list of viable options. Never again. He’ll never use that one again.

With the fire out, Harry has new worries, like hiding from the voices and getting back to the Department of Mysteries. His friends are in danger. Sirius is still in trouble.

But the voices… they’re distracting him.

“-got to be around here somewhere, Prongs.”

Harry stops, straining his ears to hear their conversation over his pounding heart. Sounds like Sirius. Sounds like Sirius talking to his dad, just like back in the Pensieve, but that’s impossible.

“I didn’t see anyone on the map,” says the other voice. The one who can’t be James. “But I guess I wasn't really looking.”

“Get it back out,” says Sirius, and Harry panics.

He’s not thinking about the incredible impossibility of this situation. He isn’t thinking about anything else except his name appearing as a black dot on a map, giving up his name and location.

It’s another impulse, another flick of his wand with a curse he’s never tried before. A pop, then a louder boom, erupts from his wand, but not much else except a thin cloud of wispy, white smoke.

“Shit,” he whispers.

Upside, he’s managed to distract the imposters away from the map. Downside, he’s distracted them away from his name on a map and pulled their attention to him, his actual self.

He runs, and hears Not Sirius and Not James trailing him through the brambles and branches.

This is a trick.

An illusion.

It must be.

He’s running away from a pair of Death Eaters. Enemies disguised as loved ones. It’s the only logical conclusion.

What room in the Department of Mysteries has he stumbled into? A trap, maybe, something to keep him occupied and contained while Voldemort continues to torture Real Sirius.

A good thing about traps is that they always have a way out. Harry just needs to find one, but quickly. He searches for a door, or a tree shaped like one as if he’s a character in a story, when he trips over an overgrown root and falls onto the dirt, forest floor.

He lands funny, with his leg bent weird, and under the rest of him. It takes effort not to cry out in pain, but he manages. It doesn’t matter, though.

The imposters catch up with him anyway, and the worst part, the dangerous part, is that Harry wishes it wasn’t a trap. He wishes it was real.


Lance jerked his shoulder, trying to dislodge the hands that held him down.

For all that these people claimed that they were peaceful, they sure as hell knew how to throw down. Lance may have not been the strongest of the paladins of Voltron, but even Hunk was having a tough time breaking free of the aliens’ grip on him. He was red-faced and panting, chest heaving as he tried to wrench himself free.

“Hunk, this isn’t working!” Lance called, only to have the hand on his shoulder tighten to the point of pain. The alien made a strange, gurgle-like sound, one that meant nothing to Lance, but insinuated a clear threat: ‘don’t move, or you’ll get it’.

What he would get, Lance wasn’t sure, but whatever it was couldn’t be good. He obeyed and went still, but only so he could look at their surroundings.

They were in front of some sort of altar, shining crystal sparkling on all sides. In the middle of a pool of water was what looked like a gigantic statue of some kind of a holy figure holding its palms outward. Water gushed from the ceiling of the cave, pouring over the statue’s palms and spilling into the pool below.

Right where they were taking Keith.

“What are you doing with him?” Allura demanded waveringly. “Please, tell me what’s going on. I know you don’t want to fight us. I can feel it!”

“Who cares about that!” Pidge shouted. “Let me go! Let all of us go! Why does this always happen to us? We go to a peaceful planet, and then people start trying to kill us!”

It hadn’t started out that way. At least, not that Lance could tell. How a mission could have gone so wrong, so quickly was a mystery.

They were travelling through the galaxy, trying to pinpoint a civilization of peoples that needed assistance on the outskirts of Zarkon’s territory. So far, they hadn’t found anything that wouldn’t take a large-scale plan of action to accomplish anything significant. That was when they suddenly received a distress signal.

A nearby planet was hailing any nearby ships in the vicinity, and as soon as the signal came in, Allura called the paladins into the control room.

“Paladins!” Allura said once the team was assembled. “We’ve just received word from a planet nearby that they need our help.”

“We’re sure this is a legitimate distress call, right?” Hunk ventured. “You remember what happened last time.”

Last time, it had been a trap set by Zarkon’s forces and they barely escaped intact. They all looked at Allura, who returned their gazes unflinchingly.

“You are correct, Hunk,” she said. “Last time was a disaster, but we will not make the same mistake again. I had Coran look through our ships files for any information pertaining to this planet. You will be surprised to find out that we knew this planet long, long ago, many years before I was born. Coran, if you will.”

She gestured to the ship’s console. Coran scrambled to obey, and soon the planetarium display had popped up. Muttering to himself, Coran swiped across the galaxy until he had reached a small, but beautiful planet. Like the Balmera, its surface was glimmering with light, its land forming intricate patterns.

“Wow,” Pidge breathed. “It’s pretty.”

“Yes.” Allura smiled. “It was a wondrous place, from what I can see. Before our war with Zarkon, we had many dealings with them. Their land carries rare riches and minerals, making them a target for theft, but their collective life energy somehow works as a shield for the planet. Only those they trust are allowed in. However…”

Allura frowned, going quiet.

“They’re being attacked,” Coran finished solemnly. “I know not how they stayed protected, but Zarkon must have finally penetrated their defenses after ten thousand years.”

“Just now, after ten thousand years?” Lance asked. “Sure seems convenient now that the paladins are back together. Are we sure Zarkon isn’t behind this somehow?”

“I’m certain of it,” Allura replied. “I can feel it. Their energy, it….it calls to me. Something about it is telling me we must go. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before, and it’s not something Zarkon is capable of.”

“What kind of feeling is it?” Shiro asked.

“It’s so difficult to describe. It’s….warm.” She touched the center of her chest, smiling. “Kind. Something good will come of this; I feel it.”

“I don’t know if I trust this,” Hunk whispered loudly.

Allura glared at Hunk, gearing up with a scathing retort, but Shiro stepped forward, hands raised.

“We trust you, princess.” He bowed his head. “If you think this is what we should do, then we’re right behind you.”

Allura’s expression softened in the face of Shiro’s confidence.

“Thank you, Shiro. Diplomacy is an important part of being a paladin of Voltron. Suit up and meet Coran in the training room as soon as you can. He’ll brief you on the customs of the people of this planet: the planet Novaria.”

She nodded, dismissing them, and they scattered. Pidge and Keith immediately headed for their suits, but Lance hung back, staring at the still open display. Hunk was doing the same thing, observing the small orb up close.

“Hey, Hunk?” Lance started, walking up alongside him. “Does something feel…weird about this?”

“Weird?” He looked at Lance. “Not really. Is your gut telling you something’s off?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Lance stepped closer, peering directly at the planet. The closer he got, the weirder he felt. And the strangest part was that it wasn’t necessary a bad feeling, just weird.

“Well until you figure that you, I guess we should suit up,” Hunk said unconvincingly. “Another space trip that will hopefully end in peace and harmony.”

“Yeah.” Lance stepped back, giving the planet one last look before he turned around. “We should. Let’s move out.”

They walked to the training room together, clad in their gear and bayards. Pidge and Keith were already there, but Coran and Shiro hadn’t shown up yet, leaving the four of them to mingle.

“’Sup, Pidge,” Lance called, stepping into the room. He glanced at Keith, his lips curling a little. “Keith.”

They weren’t mortal enemies any longer, but Keith wasn’t exactly his best friend. Now that they’d gotten to know each other a little, Lance could admit that Keith was a good pilot, a good fighter, and maybe—just maybe—a good friend, but he wasn’t about to tell him that.

“Lance,” Keith greeted, eyes flicking up at him briefly. He was studying his bayard, brow furrowed in concentration. Lance and Hunk settled down in front of them, following Keith’s example and pulling out their bayards for inspection.

“So,” Keith started, “does something about this whole thing feel kind of…off?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Pidge. She was busy typing something on her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard. The light glinted off of her glasses when she glanced up at the three of them. “I’m trying to scan the planet—just to make sure what Allura said is true—and everything seems to check out. There’s some sort of forcefield jamming my signals, but I’m not able to trace it. It’s probably coming from the Novarians.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t mean something’s not weird about this,” Hunk argued. “How do we know we can trust them?”

“We don’t,” Lance said. “But we do have to follow Allura’s orders.”

“You think she’s wrong about this?” Keith looked up at Lance, his eyebrow raised. Lance opened his mouth to defend himself when he felt a firm hand land on his shoulder.

“The princess knows what’s best,” came Shiro’s voice from behind them. “If she says we’re going down there, then we’re going down there. They need our help. It would be good if you three could remember that.”

An awkward, guilty silence fell over the trio, broken only by the sound of Pidge’s frantic typing.

Keith was the first to speak.

“Sorry, Shiro,” he said, sounding sincere.

“It’s just—” At Shiro’s pointed look, Hunk stopped. “Nevermind. Sorry. I’ll be quiet now.”

“See that you are.” Shiro nodded, lips lifting into a smile. “I understand you’re all concerned, but this is nothing we can’t handle.”

Somehow, that wasn’t comforting.

By the time Coran entered the room, they were all seated in a circle, waiting patiently for his tutelage.

“Ready, paladins?” he chirped, wiggling a pad with a bunch of what looked like gibberish on it. “I have the communications from our Novarian friends right here. It appears that they don’t speak any form of English or Altean—or anything at all, really—but the signal was coded to indicate that they need immediate assistance.”

“What kind of help?” Pidge asked. “Do you think it’s Zarkon?”

“Should we take the ship into orbit?” Shiro added.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Coran replied. He poked the screen, bringing up another display. “Don’t you worry; leave that to Allura and myself. For now, it’s time to learn about the Novarian customs!”

Lance groaned. Why did he have a feeling this was going to be boring?

Coran went on for about half an hour on the greetings alone. Apparently when he said that they made use of the mind, he meant that the people of Novaria didn’t speak from any type of orifice, relying on touch to communicate ideas. Lance tried to imagine one of them hugging a communication panel and had to stop himself from snickering.

Hunk shot him a reproachful look.

“Imagine someone probing your brain,” Coran explained. “Your thoughts, your memories; all of it open for the world to see. It’s just like that!”

“Great,” Keith drawled. “I love having my brain probed. Can we say no to this whole greeting thing?”

“I’m afraid not, Keith.” Coran twirled his mustache. “As much as I’d like to allow you to escape with your mind untouched, it would be terribly rude to the Novarians. You shouldn’t have to worry, though! I’m certain they won’t care about anything holed up in there.”

This time Lance did snicker. Loudly. Keith shot him a dirty look.

“I’m not so sure about this either.” Hunk shuddered. “Anything involving aliens touching my brain makes me nervous. What if they, like, take over our minds? What then?!”

“That won’t happen,” Shiro said. “We can’t be afraid to try new things. Not everyone in the universe will act like we do. We’d better get used to it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lance grumbled, leaning his back against Hunk. He didn’t like the thought of his mind being invaded. What if they started broadcasting it to everyone around them? What if Keith heard his thoughts?

Lance pushed the thought out of his mind; thinking about it made his skin crawl.

Pidge sighed. “Can we move on? We have a distress signal to answer, don’t we?”

“Righto.” Coran coughed. “So, after greetings, we have general etiquette…”

After learning the basics of Nova customs, they were just shy of reaching the planet, which left them with just enough time to get to their lions and be ready for whatever awaited them. Allura was at the helm, dressed for battle and approaching the planet with care. When they reached the outskirts, it was obvious that the distress signal wasn’t in vain; there was a small hole where Zarkon’s forces were streaming into the planet.

“Paladins, be careful,” Allura warned them. “Try to avoid causing any damage to the planet’s surface.”

“Got it,” Lance said, swinging his lion around to the front of the pack. “Ready to kick some Zarkon butt?”

“We’re not going in guns blazing,” Shiro admonished. “We should be careful. Hunk, you’re up front. Keith, you’re with me. Lance and Pidge will hold up our rear and fire if necessary.”

The forces had only just arrived, which meant that they didn’t even need to form Voltron to take them down. Hunk held up the front, using his defense as a barrier while the other slipped around him and wreaked havoc. When it appeared that the enemy was ill-prepared to face the sudden appearance of the legendary Voltron, Hunk, Shiro, and Lance took off to destroy the largest of the ships while Keith and Pidge attacked the transportation vessels.

It was an easy win, and after everything that had happened in the last few weeks, Lance should have been overjoyed.

So why did he feel like he was missing something? The closer they got to the planet, the more he felt like something was pulling him in, encouraging him to do something, to go somewhere. He couldn’t tell what it was, but the feeling in his gut was similar to…anticipation.

Lance warily followed the rest of the paladins down onto the planet, taking care not to crush any of the civilians as they descended to the surface and stepped out of their lions.

The people on Novaria weren’t exactly what they were expecting.

For one, they seemed to be made of some kind of energy. Whatever it was, it made them glow, as if their bodies could barely contain the light held within. They were vaguely human-shaped, and they towered over their visitors by at least a few feet. The funny thing was, even though they were blindingly bright, it didn’t hurt to look at them. The light was beautiful; welcoming, even, much like the rest of the planet.

The planet’s surface was covered in stark white foliage, with huge pillars of what looked like glass erupting from the ground. The Novarians had taken advantage of this, building their civilization around the beauty and splendor, erecting towering buildings that punctured the sky high above the clouds.

“Whoa,” Keith breathed beside him. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Yeah.” Lance shot a glance at Keith, watching the wonderment play across his face. “It is.”

A cursory look around informed him that while they’d been admiring the planet’s beauty, Allura was already chatting away with the tallest of the Novarians, its hands clutched tightly between hers.

“Thank you for welcoming us,” she said. “I am princess Allura of Altea, and these are the paladins of Voltron. You may not remember us, but long ago—oh?”

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating.

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand,” she said slowly. “Can you repeat that?”

“What is it, princess?” Coran leaned forward, hesitating over their joined hands. “Perhaps I might be able to help.”

Another separate Novarian citizen took Coran by the shoulder and lowered its head until their foreheads were pressed together.

“Oh.” Coran went stiff. “That’s—oh, that’s very strange. You’re in my head now, I see.”

One of the Novarians approached Lance and Keith, extending a hand—or what looked like a cross between a mitten and a hand—for them to take.

“Ooh, I think it likes us,” Lance purred. “You go first, Keith.”

“Why don’t you go first?”

Keith and Lance shared a glare, challenging each other to be the first to take the bait.

Lance was the first to give.

“Fine, I will!” He didn’t want to be rude, after all, so he took the Novarian’s hand in his own, braced for impact. “I hope this alien is ready to dive into the greatest mind it’s ever seen.”

“Whatever.” Keith rolled his eyes and stepped back to watch.

It wasn’t like anything Lance expected.

It was warm.

He felt the Novarian’s mind connect with his own, a wave of that same warmth encompassing his entire being. His body started to tingle from his head to his toes.

Then he felt it; it was like there was something that didn’t belong inside him, pushing gently, inexorably, and Lance was powerless to resist. It entered his mind, searching through his memories and thoughts and feelings. Images that Lance couldn’t understand flashed inside his head, telling a story that didn’t make any sense.

“That kinda tickles, but in my brain.”

The Novarian went deeper, tugging at his childhood, pulling apart the times he fell and hurt himself; it picked through his time at the academy, watching the back of Keith’s head, always, always watching. Fast forward years, and they were in space; there was Keith, smiling at him, laughing with him.

The images were coming faster now. He saw a pool of water, glittering, and water cascaded over him, in his mouth, his throat, filling him with something unrecognizable. Something like want.

It retreated from his and went back to his time at the academy, hesitating, hovering over the memories. Then they shifted, turning to the rest of the crew. They saw Pidge, Shiro, Coran, and Allura. At Hunk’s wide, bright-eyed smile, it stilled, and then buried its claws in Lance’s mind, searching for something, looking for—

“No!” Lance shouted, snatching his hand out of the alien’s grasp. He opened his eyes, which had previously been held shut, and paled in realizing what he’d done. “I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to let go, but I…that was…”

His heart was hammering in his chest. His head felt fuzzy, his breathing short.

“What are you doing?!” Keith hissed, watching the alien warily. It swayed, emitting a strange humming sound. Then it turned to Keith.

“I think, I think it wants you now,” Lance muttered, still out of sorts. The experience had been uncomfortable, but at the same time, he felt bereft, like something was missing. Like a piece of something important had been taken, lying just out reach.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Keith sighed, and then offered his hand for the Novarian to take. It did so gingerly, covering Keith’s palm with its own. Keith gasped, his whole body going rigid.

Lance eyed him uneasily. Did I look that stupid?

He didn’t have a chance to find out. After a few seconds of connecting with Keith, the being suddenly snatched its hand away from him, humming something unintelligible. Then it gurgled, waving its arms at its comrades to gather their attention.

“What’s happening?” Lance muttered, watching as the Novarians turned their heads and started coming their way.

Soon, half of the population was gathering around Keith, chittering and humming and gurgling. The Novarian alongside Allura lifted its head and emitted a booming sound, and the others suddenly ceased.

Lance looked at Keith. “What was that?”

“I—I don’t know. It was looking through my mind one second, then the next, it was gone.”

What Keith said puzzled Lance, but before he could inquire further, one of the Novarians approached him.

Keith reached out to offer his mind, but instead they took hold of his arms instead and started hauling him away.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Keith jerked weakly in their grip, hesitant to struggle, but still unnerved by what was happening. “What are you doing?”

Having noticed the commotion, Allura started to push her way through the crowd, reaching out towards Keith. “Excuse me, but where are you taking him?”

They received no answer, and one of the Novarians took Allura by the arm, restraining her from reaching Keith. Alarmed by the sudden turn of events, the rest of the paladins whipped out their bayards, training them on the Novarians.

Allura held up her free hand.

“Don’t!” she shouted. “Don’t hurt them! We don’t know what’s happening, but we mustn’t resort to violence. Just—if I could speak with your leader again, please!”

Meanwhile, Lance hadn’t moved an inch. It was like his brain was filled with molasses, his thoughts processing too slowly for his body to follow. Hunk came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder, tugging him forward.

“What happened over here?” he asked, concerned. “Did Keith do something to them?”

Lance shook his head, mind starting to clear. There was something he was supposed to be doing. Someone he was saving. Who was it? Right. Keith.

“What are we supposed to do? Just sit here while they take him away?” Pidge waved her bayard at the nearest exiting Novarians. “We have no idea if they’re about to eat his brains, or—or worse!”

Holy crow, Keith was kidnapped! What was he doing just standing here?

“Keith! We have to save Keith!” He shot forward, ignoring Coran’s enraged shout and lunged at the nearest Novarian, bayard at the ready. These aliens moved pretty slowly, so Lance was expecting an easy fight, which was why he was shocked when the Novarian’s hand shot out like lightning and wrapped around Lance’s wrist, sending his bayard clattering to the ground.

As if a switch had been pulled, the Novarians turned and grabbed the remaining paladins and Coran, pulling them in the same direction that Keith had been taken.

“What the hell is going on?” Shiro snapped, apparently finished playing the responsible adult. “I thought things were going well. Why are they attacking us?”

“They aren’t trying to hurt us. Don’t worry: I’m trying to find out,” Allura grit out. Her arms were being restrained by two Novarians, but she made no more attempts to get free. “They’re blocking me somehow! I’m getting images—flashes. Something about a pool and a mind.” Her brow was knit with concentration, sweat beading down her neck. “I see Lance and Keith. I—I can’t make it out.”

“Lance! What did you do?” Pidge squirmed, pointing her foot accusingly in Lance’s direction.

“I didn’t do anything!” he cried. “Okay, maybe one of the Novarians got kind of brain-handsy with me and started digging around in my memories, so I pulled out of our mind meld. So what?”

“Maybe you insulted him,” Hunk guessed.

“But they didn’t start going crazy until they got to Keith! If anything, it’s his fault.”

Hunk opened his mouth to answer, but his attention was stolen by their arrival at the edge of a large cave. Glittering crystals lined every inch of the walls, sending light dancing along the crystals in a dazzling display. Even though they were effectively in a hostage situation, Lance couldn’t help but gape.

“I’ve got something,” Allura gasped. Her hair was damp with sweat, her limbs trembling in the Novarians’ grip.

“Princess, don’t strain yourself!”

“I’m fine,” she snapped. “Trying to force our minds together is difficult, but I can handle it. I learned that there’s a ritual that’s going to happen. And Keith is going to take part in it.”

“Uh oh.” Hunk swallowed, glancing at the front of the pack. “Rituals are never a good sign.”

As if on cue, the Novarians got louder, their voices echoing off of the walls. Keith could still be heard shouting at the front of the pack, crying out for help. The sound was grating, setting Lance’s nerves on edge. He never wanted to hear that sound come out of Keith’s mouth again.

“Let me go! Whatever you’re doing, it needs to stop! Keith! Keith!” he shouted. There was an answering shout, but it was fading fast. He was getting farther away. Lance wracked his brain for any sort of plan, but his mind was suspiciously blank.

How had things gone so wrong? It was after they went into Keith’s mind that they started going crazy. What if what they saw there made them want to take over his brain, like Hunk had ludicrously suggested just hours ago?

Think, Lance, think. What could they want with Keith?

Aside from his looks and combat skills, Lance couldn’t imagine anything the Novarians might want with a human.

While he was trying to concoct a plan, they had arrived at a large cavern, which brought them back to the present situation. Keith was in trouble, and Lance was completely and totally useless.

The Novarians had lined them up in front of the altar, their hands held aloft. The rest of the Novarians that weren’t occupied with their guests were starting to disperse, forming a tight ring around the walls of the cave. In the center was Keith, still pulling at the leader’s hold as it dragged him forward.

“Let me go!“ He let out an enraged shout, kicking his legs wildly. The Novarian leader remained unfazed, dragging him near the center of the pool of pouring water.

“I’m guessing nobody has a plan,” Pidge added helpfully, her glasses slipping messily down her nose as she tugged at the hands binding her.

“Of course not! I can’t even move,” Hunk groaned. “These guys are too strong. Isn’t there a way we can call our lions?”

“I don’t know!” Shiro craned his neck to look at the way they’d come. “They usually just come when we’re in trouble.”

“Maybe we’re really not in trouble,” Pidge suggested, sounding like she didn’t believe it.

“I don’t know.” Shiro frowned. “This isn’t looking good. If they don’t want to hurt us, why can’t they just explain what’s happening?”

They didn’t have time to find out. As Keith was held up by the Novarian leader, the humming grew even louder, echoing in the cave, along the walls, in their heads. In Lance’s head.

“Keith! Let me go, you—” Lance managed to wrench his arm from the Novarian’s grasp and fell forward, fingers scraping the ground for purchase. The sounds grew louder, scraping at the walls of his mind, and he knew without a doubt that something was about to happen to Keith. Icy cold fear washed over him, and he felt it when they plunged Keith into the freezing water. “Keith! Keith! Keith!”

His head ached. It felt like someone had plunged their hand into his chest and given his heart a good squeeze. His vision swam, eyes trying and failing to lock onto Keith as he was forced mercilessly back into the freezing cold water. It felt like he was being branded, like his skin was melting off, exposing bone and blood and pain, so much pain.

He screamed, mouth forming Keith’s name, and then there was nothing.

Lance was spinning. He couldn’t see, could barely hear his panicked breathes over the dull roaring in his ears. He was spinning, and he kept spinning, floating through—space? He couldn’t tell where he was. Lights were flashing in front of his eyes, so fast that he couldn’t make out what was going on. He tried to move, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.

Where am I? What happened?

The memories were fuzzy, slipping away. He couldn’t think properly; his thoughts were muddled, broken into bits and pieces.

His eyes fluttered open and he saw a flash of red, and an endless, endless light. He closed them again, trying not to panic, remembering to breathe.

What was I doing?

I was rescuing someone. A friend?

A friend? Who?

Someone, someone important. It was…

Keith!

Light exploded behind his eyes at the revelation. He squeezed them shut, trying to block it out, to block everything out. There were voices sounding in the background, calling out, but before he could reach out a grasp them, the voices faded. Something cool rushed over him, filling his mouth and nose and lungs. He coughed and coughed, choking and spitting until he felt like he was able to breathe again.

His head hurt. His neck hurt. Everything hurt. Lance felt like his body had been ripped apart and then put back together.

“…nce.”

“…..ance!”

“No,” he groaned, his head throbbing as the voices grew louder. “No, don’t. Leave me alone. I can’t, I need—“

He didn’t know what he needed. But it was something important, he was sure of it.

The voices faded. He was alone.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and for a brief moment, the pain eased, simmering in the back of his mind where it was easier to bear. Then the hand left, and the pain returned. Lance buried his face in his arms, destitute. At this rate, he’d be in pain forever. He’d never find what he needed!

Someone shoved a warm body against his side, and something in his brain clicked. Relief flooded him, engulfing the pain and sending it away. He turned without opening his eyes, knowing that this was it; this was what he’d been looking for. This was what he needed.

He wrapped his arms around the warmth, burying his nose in something soft. A whiff of a familiar scent gave him pause, but he was too exhausted to investigate it further.

He fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Lance woke up with his face shoved in something fuzzy and dark. The pain from before was thankfully nowhere to be found, and his head felt clear, alert.

He felt heavy. Warm. Something—scratch that, someone was leaning against his chest, breath tickling his skin. Lance frowned, trying to remember when something like that could have happened. Did they get drunk? The last thing he remembered was being on Novaria, and then—

Keith!

His eyes snapped open, and he was immediately greeted by the sight of Keith’s sleeping face.

It took Lance a few seconds for his brain to catch up with the unexpected turn of events.

“What the hell!” Lance screeched, recoiling. Heat flooding his cheeks. He’d been cuddling Keith. “Why is Keith in my bed?”

“Ah. Good, you’re awake.” Allura said from the doorway, drawing Lance’s attention. “We were worried you might be out for longer than expected. I’m relieved that isn’t the case.”

“Allura, what are you doing here?” Lance took a deep breath. “Am I crazy, or am I missing something?”

“What do you recall?” Allura asked, gently. “Do you remember Novaria, and Keith’s, er, capture?”

“Yeah, I remember that.” Lance frowned at his lap. “I remember yelling, trying to reach Keith, and then…nothing.” He shook his head, trying to dislodge the memories. “What happened? How did we get here? And more importantly, why am I in bed with Keith?”

“Ah.” Allura pursed her lips. Lance had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what she was about to say. “It turns out the ritual that they performed on Keith had a….binding quality to it.”


AN: La-gasp! Another chapter!? Still waiting on those spiders and thank you few for the orcas.

Chapter 16 - Only Fate

A Segway Between Life and Death

"Do you ever wonder?" the Death with the sexy hips asked the Death who was pacing the metaphorical space between universes.

"Wonder what?" he snapped, pacing faster.

"If it were possible to destroy a timeline?"

Death with a worry of wizards halted, he turned around slowly, metaphorically speaking, "What?"

She tapped her foot against her scythe, "I just… have this feeling. I feel like, I feel like I have forgotten something, in fact, many things… I keep checking my books… and…"

"And what?" he demanded.

The Death with a titillation of mutants smiled, "The books are blank. I've seen them be rewritten, repeatedly, I've seen them change, I've changed them, but never before have they gone blank. They are slowly…" Her voice trailed off.

"Slowly what?" Death with a preoccupation with divided souls demanded.

"What?" she asked, looking up, metaphorically speaking.

He made a harsh sound, "Your books are slowly, what?"

"My books?"

"Your books," he growled."What's wrong with your books?"

"Nothing," she said, offended, "Why? What do you know?"

"You just said- You know what, never mind. How could you dump two more of your people in my world? Wasn't it bad enough you brought those two Aurors back? That pest who is so afraid of death is on the brink of finding true immortality! And it is your fault!"

"Oh please, you showed the two redheads their son's would be life. They will figure it out," she said offhandedly, then more sharply, asked, "Wait, what two?"

"The Boy Who Lived's parents!" Death with the greater sense of continuity roared.

"No, no, what two from my world? I only brought over the Lady Spider."

"Yes, you brought the little princess after she died, but now there are also the Man Spider and the little would be tigress."

Death with the overlarge slicing object stared at him blankly, "What?"

Death of the more fantastical magic waved his hand, an image appearing before them of Peter Parker and MJ asleep on the couch, "Them!"

She frowned at them, "No, no, they aren't… they are too old, they haven't died yet. He isn't even a-, they-" A book appeared in her long digited hand.

She opened to the correct chapter.

Blank.

Then flipped to the approximate age of the boy.

Blank.

She flipped to the end of Peter Parker's book.

"Fuck," said the Death who knew all too well what the Infinity Stones were capable of.

The Death whose butt cheeks had been clenched tight ever since they broke the laws of Life and Death so dramatically, leaned over her shoulder, avoiding her scythe to peer at the page, then laughed.

"This isn't funny! We were played!"

Death whose sense of rightness had corrected itself, chortled into the space between, metaphorically speaking, that is.

Saturday seemed to come quickly that week. Harry much preferred having the addition of MJ, even if she was a bit withdrawn, he felt less like a misfit with her around.

Unlike him, who played it cool and pretended to be sociable even though he didn't overly enjoy socializing, MJ was cool and didn't pretend to be anything then what she was.

If people gave her shit, she either didn't acknowledge their existence or had them tied up in their own words with the effort of someone folding a napkin.

But Saturday he didn't have the buffer of MJ to deal with his parents. People he was beginning to truly like, and yet…

And yet he found himself dragging his feet, walking back with Padma and Hermione to the dorm rather than the room Lily was waiting to start his potions lesson with.

"Are you even paying attention?" Hermione snapped.

He gave her a look.

"He's thinking about his mum and dad," Padma supplied. "How's that going by the way?"

He shrugged, "Fine."

"Fine," she mocked, "right, that sounded sooo believable."

He raised a brow, "Are you calling me a liar?"

"Ha," she said, raising her chin, "You lie like you breathe."

He put his hand to his heart, leaning back against the railing at the platform of one of the moving staircases. "Padma," he said dramatically, he placed a hand on the rail as if catching his balance against a blow, "You wound me."

Then he flipped himself backward over the railing.

Padma screamed.

Several other students screamed.

Harry stuck the landing, coming to his feet in a swirl of robes.

Padma was leaning over the railing to see him, her expression morphing from fear to rage in a heartbeat.

It had only been one flight.

She swore at him in Hindi, something that had her twin, Parvati, exclaiming, "Padma!" from an upper level.

But Harry laughed and blew her a kiss, and went to go see his birth mother wearing a self-satisfied smirk.

He was pretty sure Padma would get him back for that.

He found that he was rather looking forward to it.

Lily was pretty sure they had it.

"Happy thoughts?" Harry asked, "Like Peter Pan?"

Lily grinned at him, "Just so."

James cast the spell wordlessly, his doe prancing merrily around the hopping gracefully, then less gracelessly kicking its back feet into the air.

Lily spoke the Charm for Natasha's and Harry's sake, her stag charging down the doe that darted up, then circled around them.

"Okay," Harry said, "that's cool, not very stealthy, but very cool."

Harry raised turned his wrist, his bracelet transforming into an intricately carved staff with metal inlay, that was longer than he was tall.

It was an impressive weapon, though, she added mentally, not a stealth object.

He waited, and it took Lily a moment to realize that he was waiting for Natasha to try first. His respect for her evident in almost all that he did.

Merlin, Lily hated being jealous of the other woman. She wanted to forget she existed. But when she glanced at James who teasingly wagged his eyebrows at her, she blushed.

It took Natasha two tries, and where Lily had expected to see a spider, what appeared in silver blue was nothing so small.

A large Siberian tiger roared out of her wand, then playfully chased around the two deer patronuses.

Natasha's smile was breathtaking, "My favourite animal."

Harry huffed a laugh, "Also my favourite toy plushie when I was little."

She grinned at him, "You cried yourself to sleep that night one of the Death Eaters blasted a hole through it. I had to take you back to Russia and track down the company, which turned out to be a little shop owner in a small town, hours outside of St. Petersburg, who had a vender's cart during the holidays, to get you one that was; тот самый."

She made Russian sound sexy, damn her, Lily noted.

Harry grinned and teased back in a stream of Russian that sounded oddly beautiful, almost as beautiful of the sound of his laughter at Natasha's presumably witty comeback.

And with that laughter still on his lip, he twirled his staff like he had wielded such a thing all his life, and maybe he had.

An elegant crane spread large wings, gliding elegantly around the deer and the tiger.

"A crane," James said with a smile, because how could you not smile at a fourteen year old performing such a spell so effortlessly with a creature whose natural elegance was further enhanced with magic.

"A Siberian Crane," Harry corrected, "My favourite animal, they're endangered in Russia. Mum and I created a foundation for them and got them listed as protected animals."

"That's wonderful," Lily said, meaning it, even if her heart still hurt at yet another thing she had missed in her son's life.

"So what's next on the agenda?" he asked, not in the least fazed by learning one of the most difficult spells in there world.

James coughed, "Well, we had a request."

Natasha narrowed her eyes, "What?"

And Lily liked her a bit better for her protectiveness, or maybe that was just because she knew what they might be facing. "Natasha, you know the dream we shared?"

"Yes?" she asked, warning in her tone.

"We think we know where the snake is."

"Wait, you shared a dream, and what about a snake?" Harry asked.

Lily looked at him and wondered how he would take this, "We had a dream about you slaying a giant serpent."

Harry blinked at her and his response was not what she had expected, "But I like snakes."

Before she could respond, Natasha said in a perfectly reasonable tone without the slightest indication she would change her mind on the subject, "He won't be doing that again."

"He won't need to," James said, "I just need to transfigure some roosters and light to make them squawk, then bam, dead Basilisk."

"I'm completely lost," Harry said.

"We just need to take a tour down the second floor," James answered pleasantly.

"Why?" he asked, sounding a suspicious as Natasha.

"Why, to talk to a ghost, of course."

Harry could tell Mom was unhappy, and his parents were not doing much better.

But it appeared the three adults had at least one thing in common: curiosity.

Moaning Myrtle, as he was informed people called her, was a wailing ghost who appeared to spend a great deal of time in a toilet.

When his dad asked her how she had died, she moaned with delight which creeped Harry out more than the Bloody Baron ever had.

"I saw something come out of there," she pointed to the sinks, then said almost gleefully, "And then I diiiieed."

Harry wanted away from this strange phantom who was eyeing him up hungerly. He wondered if you could kill ghosts, maybe exorcism?

The four of them searched the sinks and he was the one to find the tiny snake image.

"Salazar Slytherin had a thing for snakes, huh?" he asked.

"He could talk to them," his dad said distastefully.

Harry looked at him, "I mean, so can I, but I don't go around marking my turf with snake insignias everywhere."

His mouth dropped open along with Lily's, they asked in unison, "You can talk to snakes?"

Mom put her hands on her hips, "Is there a problem?"

The Aurors exchanged looks, and his dad recovered first, "No, it's just extremely rare in our world."

"How rare?" he asked.

"As in, there is only one person known in our history who was born with that magical gift not connected to Salazar Slytherin's line."

Which gave Harry an idea, and he hissed at the little snake on the sink, "Open."

He stepped back as the sinks moved.

"Nifty," Mom said.

Harry chuckled, both at his mom and his parents who were slightly wide eyed at the new information revealed to them.

"How are we going to scope out what's done there?" Mom asked.

Lily stepped forward and was sliding down into the darkness before anyone could stop her.

Mom sighed, "So that's where you get it from."

A moment later, Lily called up, "Clear."

James was next, but before Harry could follow, Natasha tied a blindfold around his face.

"You think it's awake?" he asked, not protesting after what the Potters had explained to them about the 'big snake.'

"I think you can practice walking in darkness."

And they slid down the slide together.

He felt what most have been the small bones of rats crunch beneath his boots. Having practised fighting in the dark, and fighting with the blindfold before. He was able to follow his mother's footsteps, which she deliberately let fall audibly against the stone floor, scuffing her foot against any lips of elevation or loose stones.

"How are you walking without holding onto anything?" Lily asked.

Harry smiled, but didn't turn to face her, keeping his focus on Mom's movements. "Training," he answered.

"What kind of training?" James asked.

"The kind that has kept him alive," Mom said smoothly, "Harry, there's a door with stone snakes."

He walked to her side, and hissed, "Open."

He heard his dad mutter, "That's somehow less menacing."

"Less menacing than what?" Harry asked as the door creaked open.

"Our accents," Mom said in Russian.

Harry rolled his eyes under the blindfold.

"And people say Godric had an ego problem."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, fighting the impulse to rip off his blindfold.

"Giant statues of Slytherin everywhere," Mom supplied.

"No, snake?" he asked, not really liking the idea of killing it, but then he supposed anything that could be killed with a rooster squawk was not exactly a naturally born creature.

No one said anything.

"Now what?" Harry asked after a time.

"There must be another chamber," Lily said, "Or else it would have kept travelling throughout the pipes."

Harry began hissing out greetings.

And after a time, he heard something, he pointed toward the sound, "There."

"Master?" a deep, base hiss, thrummed through the walls, "Master, have you returned for me?"

"How do I free you?" Harry hissed back.

"Don't you remember?" It asked, sounding equal parts confused and suspicious.

Well, sound, wasn't the right word, it was more a sense, because this thing sounded like no serpent Harry had ever heard before.

"Remind me. I am your Master, but the years are long and my memory is not what it once was," He lied.

"Master! Master!" It cried, the earth below their feet trembled as it seemed to shift its great form and throw itself at the wall keeping it trapped. It began ranting, raving, crying words of ritualistic nature, claiming to be the Heir of Salazar.

Which is when Harry realized it was speaking the words that would release it, and he suddenly didn't feel so bad for being a part of this thing's death.

It was mad, it was starving, and it was imprisoned in a state that seemed to Harry to be far worse than death.

Harry motioned with his hand. Mom led him back against a wall, and presumably warned the Potters, his dad ready with the birds.

He hissed the magic words, the snake cried, "Master!"

Harry's heart broke as he listened to its scales and muscles slide against the stones, filling the echoing chamber, the first rooster crooked.

And the Basilisk screamed, a wail of death, its last word, "Master!"

Was a scream of betrayal.

Harry had killed people before, but this was the first time he had sought someone out to kill them, proactive or no.

He suddenly got what Mom had been attempting to explain to him.

But when he removed his blindfold and saw what had been set to hunt children in a school, he decided that he had made the right choice.

They all went out for dinner and Hogsmeade to celebrate, Natasha said she needed to stop at her apartment first.

Her apartment who's windows lit up with an explosion of light, shortly followed by one being thrown open to let out a plume of smoke.

"Right, stay here," Natasha said, disapparating with a pop.

"She has a roommate?" James asked his son, explosions not being all that uncommon in their world.

"Um, well, sort of," Harry answered as Natasha apparated back with two figures to either side of her.

Both had hair as wild as his and Harry's, though not genetically, more from having something blown up near them in a small space.

"Dad, Lily, this is Michelle Jones and Peter Parker," Harry introduced. "MJ, Peter, these are my birth parents, James and Lily Potter. They're wizard cops."

The lanky girl pulled her hair back, looking irked as Natasha passed her a hair tie.

Peter, who looked absolutely nothing like Pettigrew, with a physique under his tight muggle clothes that would have done an Olympic athlete proud, said, "Hi." Then turned to Natasha, "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't toxic gas," was all she said as if to say that the rest was fine.

"Peter," the girl said in a low voice, "If you don't warn me about future hair destroying experiments I'm going to turn you into a toad."

He blinked at her, "Can you do that?" He looked at the rest of them, "You guys can't really do that? Can you? Mr. Strange couldn't."

Natasha smiled, "Oh, our magic can definitely accomplish it, eventually."

Harry smiled at him, "Dad could probably do it now, couldn't you?"

James smiled a little uncertainly, "A toad, hmm, yes, I could, but where's the fun in that? I am partial to turning people into a platypus or even a whale, if I'm feeling particular."

Peter paled, his eyes going wide as he stared at the people around him.

Natasha patted him on the back, "I think it would be best if you treat all spells as things to be avoided."

He gulped, "Noted."

And James noted that both were Americans not Russians.

"So," Lily said, searching for a polite way to ask, then came out with it, seeing as neither child had the same surname nor seemed to be related in any outward way. Peter seemed to be a muggle if his apprehension to magic was anything to go by. "You're staying with Natasha?"

"Ms. Romanoff saved us," Peter said, "were, um…"

"Harry's step-sister and brother," Michelle said blandly.

Harry grinned at her like it was something they had recently agreed on.

Lily turned on Natasha, "How did you not mention having other children?"

"It's kind of recent," Peter supplied helpfully, "Course, I'm not magic so Ms. Romanoff is homeschooling me while MJ goes to Hogwarts."

Lily blinked at him, "How recent and what happened to you parents are?" she left it open ended.

"Dead," he said.

"Who the hell cares, Black Widow's our guardian, can we go get food now?" MJ asked, clearly not liking the way Lily was scrutinizing them.

"Black Widow?" James asked, he had known Natasha was a widow, but that sounded like a title or code name.

"Let's eat," Natasha said with a smile directing them all toward the inn.

They all troped toward the promise of food as Harry began to tell Peter about the Chamber of Secrets and the Basilisk, MJ listening with a disinterested expression.

But her question was pretty cutting, "So you're saying that the founder of my house didn't just not like people whose parents were non-magical but actively wanted to feed children to giant snakes? That's swell."

It was said so blandly, James couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

"Her parents were not magical and she was sorted into Slytherin," Natasha filled in as she, he, and Lily trailed behind the younger ones a bit.

"Are their guardians really gone or did you kidnap them too?" Lily said in a low voice, but the girl heard her.

She spun on her heel and walked backwards with a hand on Peter's shoulder to keep her balance. "Not that you deserve to know, but as your Harry's family, I'll say this, Peter is an orphan but his Aunt May isn't dead and neither is my family, but Natasha wasn't the one to kidnap us."

Lily glared at Natasha, "What, just like Death gave you Harry?"

"Actually," Peter said over his shoulder, "It wasn't Death, it was a stone, not really a stone, but a liquid, magical thingy that acted on its own and dropped us here. Now MJ's a witch and I'm, well still me, but that's not the point. Ms. Romanoff didn't do anything wrong. She took us in."

Even for magical folk, James thought, they sound nuts.

But Natasha's expression said that she thought the boy had shared too much.

"What is going on?" Lily asked.

Harry laughed, confusing James, what was funny about this?

Natasha shook her head, "I'll explain later. It's… in order for you to understand, it's a long story."

"We have time," Lily said.

She shook her head again, "You are coming with us on vacation to Russia, we will have time then. For now, let's eat"

oOo

When they were all seated in a large booth, MJ said, "I'm not sold on travelling. It didn't go so well last time."

"I wasn't with you last time," Natasha said.

Peter chimed in, "I would be cool to stay with MJ here for the holiday."

Natasha smiled at them, and it was the same expression James's mother had used on him and Sirius when they had innocently asked for something they planned to use for trouble.

And her words came out in the same tone, "I'm not leaving you two alone."

"We're old enough to watch out for ourselves," MJ said, not looking up from the menu.

James was suddenly glad Lily had decided against having more children. Harry was, well just getting through to Harry was a challenge, he couldn't imagine looking after a teenage daughter who had just been displaced from her family.

Peter nodded vigorously, "I can definitely be left alone." There was more to what he said aloud, something he knew Natasha already knew.

But her smile only brightened, "I'm sure you can be, but the problem is not leaving you alone, it is leaving you alone together. Besides, you're not ready for the magical assassins."

"I thought they wanted Harry? Not us," MJ pointed out, "And what's wrong with leaving us together?"

Yep, James was very glad he wasn't Natasha in that moment, because he, and likely everyone at this table knew why leaving two teens alone, who were obviously dating -Peter sitting shoulder to shoulder with her- was a terrible idea. Or at least not something a guardian would want if they were the guardian of them both.

"The assassins could go after anyone with any relation to Harry, and I'm not leaving you alone because in some even slightly plausible future I have to face your families like I had to meet Harry's, I will do so having raised you both to the best of my abilities."

"We're sixteen, only two years away from being adults," MJ said, setting down her menu and meeting Natasha's gaze without the slightest flinching.

"Yes, but you also had your entire world ripped out from underneath you, given magic, and dumped in a new country, along with a thousand other little things. Give yourself time to adjust before trying to be an adult."

"I'm mature."

"I know that, but until you are of legal age, I will be around to supervise your mistakes."

"Gee, thanks."

And though the girl hid it well, James could see some of the pain she was burdened with.

"What happened the last time you travelled?" Lily asked.

MJ's dark eyes slid to her, and she said, "Europe is overrated."

Peter snorted into his butterbeer the waiter had just handed him.

Great, James thought, more secrets.

"She's infuriating," Lily muttered as Kingsley, Amelia, Frank, and Alice came in, each with a stack of files in their arms.

James sighed, "She's also a good person."

"Who would choose to go by Black Widow? Isn't that a poisonous spider?" She paused, "Scratch that, it fits her perfectly."

"What precisely are we looking for, on a Saturday night for that matter?" Kingsley asked, placing his stack on the table. Not that Kingsley cared about weekends. None of them did except for the Longbottoms when Neville was home for the holidays.

Nymphadora entered the room, noticeably so as she tripped over her own feet and crashed into Sirius in front of her. They both went down in a heap, papers flying everywhere.

Sirius laugh-barked on the floor, pulling his wand, the papers flying back into order.

James pulled an old newspaper picture he had found of a little boy, "Tom M. Riddle. He received a scholarship to Hogwarts, recruited by Albus Dumbledore in 1938." He pinned it to the board behind him. "Likely a parselmouth who opened the Chamber of Secrets in 1943, causing the death by Basilisk of a young girl Myrtle Warren, age 14. A crime Rubeus Hagrid was wrongfully suspected of causing and expelled for. We need to know everything about him."

Nymphadora frowned at the board, "A parselmouth, a parselmouth, does anyone else feel like we're missing something obvious? I've been thinking about it all week and I just can't put my finger on it.

Amelia flipped open a file, knowing the organization of these files -if not their exact contents- better than anyone, to an almost unhealthy degree.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle, half-blood," she said, reading off a page she had found, pulling it from halfway through the stack, she pinned it to the board, "Lived in an orphanage, Wool's Orphanage, muggle London."

"Marvolo," Sirius repeated, then his eyes widened, "Marvolo Gaunt, the last known relative of Salazar Slytherin."

"It would explain the parselmouth," James said, not liking that there was none for Harry's ability.

"Nymphadora is right, we are missing something," Kingsley mused, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

Her hair turned red, "My name is Tonks, don't call me Nymphadora."

They all ignored her as the rest of them glared at their board.

Their board that they had basically turned around the safety and the standard of living in the Magical UK.

Amelia sighed, and began flipping through more files, "We will know after our research. I suppose the next logical question would be to ask what he did after he left Hogwarts?"

"Hagrid said he applied to the DADA position but Dumbledore turned him done."

Frank snorted, "That seems unlikely. He must have been terrible for Dumbledore to turn him down."

Alice nodded, "The positions cursed, nobody can last longer than a year, if they are lucky."

James was looking out at the stacks of papers so he saw when Kingsley's face went slack. He said slowly, "Unless it was before the position was cursed. The date…"

James looked back at the picture and thought of all the older wizards he knew who were wicked enough to actually release a Basilisk on a school of hapless children.

Lily grabbed his hand as the truth dawned at him, as he imagined the little black and white figure of a boy in the newspaper smiling at him with red eyes.

The room seemed to come to the same conclusions unanimously.

"Well, I guess we know why he changed his name, Tommy-Boy just doesn't sound Dark Lordy enough," Sirius said cheerfully.

Nymphadora sat down on the floor, missing the chair completely, but she didn't seem to mind, she looked numbly at the board as they all were, and she stated, "We found Voldemort."

They had.

And more than that, they had found the boy behind the monster.

Now it was only a matter of time before the uprooted all of his secrets.

James Potter smiled, a baring of teeth, Tom Riddle had thrown his world into war, had murdered him, his wife, and his son.

It was only fate that they were somehow still alive, it was only fate that he would ensure that every last vestige of Tom Marvolo Riddle would die.

AN: Comments, reactions, suggestions, tigers, or cranes, pretty, pretty please? Much love to the reviewers~