Harry stared at the wine, feeling an odd sense of loss at the disruption to the lightness that had fallen over dinner. Leif and Alexei were funny and fascinating, and Harry felt an ease with them he’d never felt with anyone. They seemed to help lift the tension in the manor, even making Snape seem more comfortable to be around. But, of course, Voldemort had to ruin it. Snape hadn’t been called for a few days, but, naturally, it had to be this night that he was summoned again.

As he watched the wine slowly spread across the table, he wasn’t sure how he felt about Snape in the moment. He was sure he didn’t hate Snape anymore, not the way he had for the last four years, but he didn’t know where that left him. He didn’t like the man, but there was more than just indifference. Sitting there in the silence created by Snape’s summoning, he felt the stirrings of concern for the professor willingly putting himself before Voldemort.

“Well, I believe this could be a good time to get to know our apprentices, don’t you agree, Leif?” Alexei said, his voice sounding like it was booming as it cut the heavy silence.

Harry looked at the two men. They both had lost much of the joy and playfulness that had previously animated them. Their faces were drawn, jaws clenched, and eyes no longer sparkling with mirth. They looked angry and worried, though they tried to hide those emotions as they looked at him and Malfoy.

“Yes, yes,” Leif said, sounding miles away, but he pulled himself back and waved his hand, cleaning up the spilt wine. “Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel about a game of chess?”

Harry looked across at Malfoy whose face was also filled with a myriad of emotions. When the blonde looked at Leif, he seemed concerned, likely about what could possibly change now they’d be alone with the two strangers, but did give a small nod.

“Yes, sir,” Malfoy agreed.

“Leif, please. I do not like to feel as old as I am,” Leif said, some of his joking tone returning.

Harry watched Leif and Malfoy rise and leave the kitchen, heading upstairs to the library where Harry knew the chess board still lay out. He turned back to Alexei who gave him a smile.

“Shall we sit outside?” Alexei suggested.

Surprised considering it was nearly dark, he nodded. He led the way to the front porch where they both sat on the large porch swing. Despite being mid-summer, the night had grown cool as though mirroring the coldness that had fallen over the manor at Snape’s departure. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his new sweater. He had a whole new wardrobe courtesy of Snape who had brought them to the closest Muggle town the previous day under Polyjuice. It was been a surreal experience, actually getting to shop for himself and to have an adult pay. He’d had to do everything himself since entering the wizarding world. It was strange having an adult take care of such things. He revelled in his new clothes, loving every piece if only because they fit for the first time in his life.

He gazed across the grounds, at the path leading to the tall gate. As the sun disappeared, he was surprised to see little orbs of soft yellow and blue light appear in the air all around the property, providing gentle illumination.

“So, Harry, tell me how you know Severus,” Alexei said eventually.

“You don’t know?” Harry said, surprised Snape wouldn’t have told Alexei they were student and teacher. He looked at the vampire beside him, noting the wry grin.

“Humour me,” Alexei said and Harry understood.

Alexei did know, but was trying to get him talking and comfortable. He gazed at the man that looked nothing like the books said vampires looked like. The books described vampires as pale, thin, monstrous beings, with long talon-like nails, glowing red eyes, and leathery skin. Huge fangs protruded from their mouths, always ready to tear into prey. The books claimed vampires were barely human.

The man before him, however, was perfectly normal. Except for a couple of small details, one would never know Alexei was a vampire. He was pale, though not deathly so as the literature would have one believe. His eyes were a bright, but misty blue, a black ring with gold flecks around the iris, one of the only indicators that the man was not quite human. There was no skeletal head, but, instead, shiny auburn hair that was pulled back into a low ponytail on his neck. There were no sunken eyes or cheeks. In fact, the man’s features were quite soft, handsome, and kind. He could see the remnants of royalty in Alexei’s more professional style of dress, likely an homage to the expectations he’d had on him as a child. He wore a casual, but smart suit with no jacket. He had a white button-up shirt, its top few buttons left open, and a light grey vest. His trousers were a matching grey and he wore simple black dress shoes. The books described vampires as being unable to speak or speaking with a dangerous hiss. Alexei had a gentle voice, deep, calming, and laden with a Russian accent.

He turned away from Alexei as he finished his perusal, gazing at the glowing orbs. “Hogwarts, the Potions professor.”

“How do you get along?” Alexei asked casually, keeping the conversation flowing.

Harry snorted. “We don’t, we hate each other. Always have.”

“Yet here you are,” Alexei said.

“Not by choice,” Harry said. “It was the only option. None of us want to be here, trust me.”

“I see,” Alexei hummed.

Harry glanced at the vampire, his eyes narrowed slightly. “You sound like him.”

Alexei laughed, a smooth, intoxicating sound. Harry could tell the man’s humour and joy could be infectious. “We have known each other for some time now, spent a fair bit of time together many years ago.”

“How do you know each other?” Harry asked, turning the conversation around.

Alexei smirked. “Surprised your teacher has a life outside of Hogwarts?”

“More that he has friends,” Harry said honestly. “He’s not exactly likeable.”

Alexei chuckled again. “Yes, he certainly takes getting used to. We met in Italy in nineteen eighty-one, I believe. He was getting his Potions mastery and I needed the assistance of his mentor. Severus ended up helping with the matter for the next couple of years and we became friends. While we lost contact for many years, he is still a dear friend and I am happy to be here.”

“Was he always like he is now?” Harry asked, wondering if Snape had been born or made evil.

Well, maybe not evil, he thought, feeling the need to acknowledge the last four weeks.

“To an extent,” Alexei said vaguely as he gazed out at the property before turning to look at Harry, his face almost sad. “He is a hard man because he has had a hard life, some by choice, some not.”

Harry thought about the subtle facts he’d learned about Snape over the last month. He knew the man had been abused by his father, had a bad relationship with the Marauders, had been friends with Lily until something happened, became a Death Eater, almost went to Azkaban, and was now a spy infiltrating Voldemort’s inner circle. He also knew the man seemed to be, by all accounts, alone. There was a lot missing, a lot he didn’t know, but he couldn’t deny Alexei’s words. Despite what he’d thought and assumed for four years, Snape wasn’t angry and hateful for no reason; he just didn’t know the reason. He wasn’t sure what to think as he found Snape becoming more and more human by the day.

“May I ask how you came to be here?” Alexei asked. “It is not customary for a student to stay with a teacher, especially one they claim to hate.”

Harry sighed, remembering his last day in Privet Drive. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want anyone to know any more than they already did. He was tired of it hurting, of it controlling his life. He just wanted to let it go, for it to let him go.

“Something happened and I couldn’t go home,” Harry said vaguely with a small shrug. “This was the safest place.”

He felt Alexei shift and looked over. The vampire had leaned back, crossing his long legs and draping his arms along the back of the swing.

“I understand the need and desire for secrets. I have many myself. We want to protect ourselves, hide what we’ve done, ignore what’s hurt us. Eventually, we keep things to ourselves for so long, we can’t even fathom telling another person, for how could they possibly understand?” Alexei said and Harry frowned slightly. The vampire turned to him again. “I do not expect you to tell me everything or much at all really. I am a stranger. However, I am also here to teach you. Our magic is heavily connected to emotion and, to learn, there is a certain level of trust that will have to exist between us. I will never keep anything from you and I hope, when I ask, you can extend to me the same courtesy. I am not here to harm you or judge you, rebenok. I want to help you. I have looked for an Elemental for a very long time and I want nothing more than to help you grow your magic. It is quite spectacular magic.”

Harry let the blue eyes hold his for a time before gazing out into the orb-spotted darkness. He’d never considered telling anyone before, but there was something overwhelmingly comforting about Alexei. Maybe it was the fact that he was unknown. Alexei didn’t know him so there was no way he could disappoint the man. Alexei didn’t know any of his friends or enemies so he couldn’t run off and tell anyone. The man may pity him or judge him, but it didn’t seem as awful coming from a stranger that had no preconceptions or expectations of who he should be.

“I was left in a pretty bad way by my uncle a month ago. I somehow Apparated to Hogwarts, Dumbledore sent me here, and then my relatives died,” Harry said, his voice monotonous. “Nowhere to go back to after that.”

“Was this a unique event?” Alexei asked.

“The severity, yeah, but, in general? Not at all. Pretty normal actually,” Harry said.

“It should not have been,” Alexei said.

Harry’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “So I’ve been told. Snape’s said it several times.”

Alexei let out a light chuckle. “You would do well to listen.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry said, almost mumbling.

“Come, rebenok. It’s late,” Alexei said, getting off the swing. “I don’t mean to tell you what to do, but you should get some sleep.”

Harry looked up at him. “What about the professor?”

He saw an odd look in Alexei’s eye, but was unsure what it was.

“Leif and I will wait up,” Alexei said.

Not sure why he seemed to care, Harry nodded and let Alexei herd him upstairs to bed.

Draco sat on one end of the sofa and watched as Leif sat on the other before transfiguring a small tabletop to sit on the sofa between them. The man grabbed the chess board from where it sat on the coffee table after Draco’s and Potter’s hours of playing the previous day. When Leif concealed a white and black piece in his fists, Draco randomly pointed and began to absently set up his black pieces. He thought back to playing with Potter as he did so. It had been surprisingly fun playing with the Gryffindor. Potter had been right and he wasn’t very good, but it hadn’t mattered. For the first time ever, he’d had a moment of actual fun.

It was another oddity to add to his steadily growing list, just like dinner. Alexei and Leif were fascinating and amusing. He hadn’t expected to like the two men or for them to bring a calm to the rest of them. Even Snape had seemed to relax with them, despite the fight he and Potter had walked in on.

As he moved his first piece, a pawn, his thoughts turned to Snape. He didn’t know what he felt when their seemingly normal—at least by all their standards—dinner was interrupted by Voldemort’s call. There had been some kind of pull in his chest as he watched the wine spill and Snape hurry away. He didn’t want to name the feeling, unable to comprehend it fully when he had no idea where he stood on the man. It had been an intense month; a lot had happened, a lot learned. Yet nothing was clear.

He sighed, moving another pawn.

“You bear a striking resemblance to him,” Leif said after several silent moves between the two of them, “but I can tell you are nothing like him.”

Draco glanced up at Leif with a slight frown. “You know my father?”

Leif did not look like the kind of person Lucius usually associated with. Compared to those types of people, Leif looked like a peasant. He had light green eyes, sandy-blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail, and lightly tanned skin. He was muscular and parts of a tattoo could be seen on the right side of his neck, the rest disappearing under his shirt. His face was angular and stern, but there was a lightness waiting to present itself and it had at dinner. His voice was similar, hard with his centuries of life, but inviting with its mixed accent though it was mostly Greek-sounding. It was truly the man’s clothes that set him apart from Lucius’ normal associates. Leif wore a long tunic-like shirt, its hem reaching mid-thigh, blue in colour, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and drawstrings dangling down his chest. His trousers were black and similar in style to horse riding trousers. He wore boots that were made of a dark brown leather and almost reached his knees, also similar to riding boots.

Having grown up in harsh perfection, Draco was drawn to the man’s casualness.

“Oh, yes, I know Lucius,” Leif said, swiping one of Draco’s pawns. “We have had several interactions, not all-together pleasant.”

Draco snorted quietly. “Sounds about right. You work at the Ministry then?” He moved a bishop, returning the favour and taking a white pawn.

Leif nodded. “Archivist. I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time.”

Draco looked up at him again, completely confused. “What?”

Leif chuckled. “I apologize. I understand how strange that may sound. However, I just mean another Aetherion. I was aware another had come into being fourteen years ago, I felt the magic form. Typically, witches and wizards like you and Mr. Potter are automatically registered in the archives and I searched for the new Aetherion, but you never appeared.”

“What would cause that?” Draco asked and Leif met his eyes.

“Suppression. You never used or acknowledged your magic,” Leif said.

Draco felt a stab in his heart, knowing what would have caused his suppression. He dropped his eyes, staring hard at the game and making a random move. “I didn’t know about it until this summer.”

“May I ask how that came about?” Leif asked and, even though the man’s tone remained light and casual, Draco instantly became angry and defensive, though he subconsciously raised one hand to his chest, his fingers ghosting over the scar hidden beneath his shirt. He didn’t know why, it was automatic and out of his control. Anger was how he’d always dealt with confronting anything to do with his father and his life. “Mr. Malfoy?”

“Draco,” he snapped quickly. “I’m not my father.”

“No, you’re not,” Leif said quietly and so reminiscent of when Snape said the same thing during the terrible Occlumency lesson. Just like with Snape, he couldn’t tell if Leif meant it as a good or bad thing.

“Just leave it,” Draco muttered, moving his rook to take one of Leif’s bishops.

He hated thinking about his father, his training, his life, and he didn’t want anyone to know. He couldn’t handle the pity or the condemnation. He would either be the poor, unloved, little rich boy or the Death Eater’s son that deserved every bit of torture. He hated the agonizing confusion he felt. He knew it was wrong and the things he’d been made to believe were wrong, but anytime he tried to think differently, it was like he could feel the torture all over again. He couldn’t escape. He would always be Lucius Malfoy’s son and embody whatever everyone else believed that role to entail. It would never matter who he actually was or what he actually wanted.

“I understand terrible fathers,” Leif eventually said, interrupting Draco’s downward spiral. Draco glanced across at him. “Who do you think it was that offered to sacrifice me?”

Leif had a half-smile though there was no humour behind it as he lifted his green eyes to Draco.

“It was my mother that saved me. My father volunteered my life,” Leif said. “See, our magic—magic of the gods, it was once called—was thought to be the source of everything. Merlin and Arthur were losing the war against Morgan when a knight of the Round Table made a suggestion. Morgan was a sorceress using dark magic. If the source of that magic was extinguished, so would she be. Funny enough, this knight had that source in a son, a son that would be more than happy to die for the cause as he had already been a loyal soldier.”

Leif paused, moving a knight. Draco moved his queen out of danger, waiting for the story to continue.

“Arthur was desperate and Merlin was convinced he could ensure only dark magic would be destroyed with the sacrifice. He could leave the world with only peace and light, never to be touched by evil again,” Leif continued. “My mother, however, was a Rune Mage with Seer capabilities and she knew it would not work, that magic—the world—cannot be divided that way, but that Arthur would not stop. So, she gave me my immortality at the expense of her own life.”

Leif paused again, moving a knight again before raising his eyes back to Draco.

“I know you don’t know me and I expect nothing from you. However, I know the pain a father can cause in favour of his own beliefs and gains, and at no point are they right, nor are we to blame,” Leif said firmly. “Our magic is special and it cares not for names or blood, nor should you, for they do not make great men or women. Only we can do that for ourselves.”

Draco slowly moved a knight of his own, protecting his queen, as he contemplated Leif’s story and final words. He was still conflicted with a voice screaming at him to keep quiet. Yet there was another voice, new and small. It was whispering to him, telling him Leif was the ideal confidante as the man had virtually no expectations of him. He couldn’t be seen as a failure if Leif didn’t know what he was supposed to be.

He touched the scar running down his sternum again. “I never even had my mother. She ignores me, leaves me to my father. He wants a certain type of son, made promises of what I would be. He’s done everything to make me into that son.”

“And that’s why you’re here with Severus?” Leif asked quietly.

Draco nodded, staring at his rook get taken. “I told my father I didn’t want to do it anymore. He went a bit further this time.”

“You were right to leave,” Leif said.

Draco couldn’t help but frown. “But I’m a Malfoy and I was supposed—”

“To be nothing but Draco,” Leif interrupted gently. “It will be important to accept yourself, trust yourself and me. Our magic is wonderful, but requires acceptance, truth, and trust. I believe you will become who you are meant to be and it is not who your father was creating.”

Draco gazed into Leif’s eyes, feeling an odd pull. He looked down at the board when Leif smiled and gestured to it. He examined the remaining pieces, eventually noticing the final move remaining. He moved his queen.

“Checkmate,” he said quietly. He stared at the piece for several minutes before looking at Leif again. The man was smiling and had leaned back against the arm of the sofa.

“I believe now would be a good time to head to bed, paidí,” Leif said.

“What about Snape?” Draco asked, absently wondering why he cared.

Leif tilted his head slightly, obviously curious about Draco’s apparent concern. “Alexei and I will be here. Off to bed now.”

Draco nodded and, filled with strange thoughts and emotions, he headed to his bedroom.

Alexei accepted the glass of wine Leif offered him with a quiet ‘thank you’ and small smile. He gazed into the fire as he sipped, his mind soaring away from the library.

“Remarkable, aren’t they?” Leif pondered aloud.

Alexei smiled, keeping his eyes on the dancing flames. “Quite, yet they don’t know it.”

“To our prodigies,” Leif said, holding up his glass.

Alexei turned to him, his own glass raised. “And the family they’ll become.”

They smiled at each other, took a drink, and turned back to the fire. The longer the silence grew, the sadder Alexei’s thoughts became.

“We should not have left him,” he said, remembering his final interaction with Severus—a fight—in Italy so many years earlier. His friend had obviously been alone all this time, easy prey to Dumbledore’s manipulations.

“No, but we didn’t know what we do now,” Leif said, his own tone stiff.

“Will that matter?” Alexei asked, looking back at Leif.

“Yes, it is already on course naturally. It is the real one,” Leif said, swirling his wine.

“But is it too late?” Alexei asked, replaying Severus’ dash from the table.

“No, I don’t think so, not with them here now,” Leif said, shaking his head lightly. “It will just take time. They all seem to have a common thread of stubbornness.”

Alexei chuckled quietly, taking another sip. “That they do,” he said. He propped an elbow on the arm of the sofa and cupped his face with his palm, staring absently at the fire.

They mostly sat in silence, both thinking about their lost friend and the lost boys they already felt strong connections to. It was going to be fascinating to watch their bonds grow, something all three so desperately needed. They had finished their wine and the fire was nearly out when they finally heard the front door open downstairs.

They glanced at each other and left the library to meet their friend.

Alexei had never seen Severus as a Death Eater and the sight was startling. It was an image that he struggled to impose on the man for, as angry and vicious as he could be, he knew Severus was inherently a good and caring man. He looked to Severus’ face. He looked drawn and exhausted, but seemed to have escape any serious punishment that night. Severus glared at them, but said nothing, banishing the robe and mask to whatever dark corner they were kept.

“Come, o fílos mou,” Leif said quietly. “We need to talk.”

Alexei was pleased when Severus agreed though a part of him wanted to just send his friend to bed. They returned to the library, Alexei resuming his seat on the sofa, Leif in his armchair, and Severus sitting heavily in a wingback. Leif waved his hand, conjuring a glass of wine for Severus.

“You seem uninjured,” Leif said and Alexei noted how carefully he spoke. Neither of them wanted to fight with Severus again and it was something they would have to get past if they wanted the arrangement to work out.

“No, his focus was on Lucius for the continued absence of his son,” Severus said, taking a drink. “I received only minor irritation for not knowing more about Potter’s disappearance.”

Alexei raised an eyebrow. “Severus, did you kidnap these boys?”

“I did no such thing,” Severus argued. “Dumbledore sent them here in the first place. Then Potter’s relatives died and Malfoy expressed concern about returning.”

Alexei and Leif glanced at each other.

“And whose decision was it for them to remain here?” Alexei asked.

“It was made in consultation with the headmaster,” Severus said vaguely.

“And he approves?” Leif said, voicing the disbelief Alexei felt.

Albus Dumbledore was allowing these three in particular to interact freely? That didn’t seem to fit with their roles in the man’s personal agenda. He wasn’t evil by any means, but he also preferred to have control, especially over those that were easily manipulated into being the kind of people he needed in his fight for the ‘greater good’.

“I do not believe his approval or permission was necessary,” Severus said. “As I said earlier, my choices are my own.”

“Right,” Alexei said, stunned.

“Speaking of earlier, I want to apologize, Severus,” Leif said, bringing Severus’ slightly suspicious gaze to him. “There is much we don’t know because, you were right, we weren’t there. However, it goes both ways. You never reached out either.”

Alexei watched Severus’ face harden. “You both made it very clear you did not want me to.”

Alexei sighed. “It was the heat of the moment, Severus. We didn’t mean it.”

“That is precisely when we do mean it,” Severus said, his tone harsh.

“Did you?” Leif countered. “Did you mean what you said to Lily in your heat of the moment?”

Alexei saw the pain briefly flash in the dark eyes. If Severus was still working for Dumbledore, he could only imagine how often his mistakes regarding Lily Evans were held over him. He’d likely never been allowed to heal or move on from her.

“She believed I did,” Severus said shortly.

“Her mistake, just like believing us was yours,” Alexei said. “We never wanted you out of our lives. We wanted you out of this life.”

“It is the life I deserve,” Severus said, draining his remaining wine.

Alexei’s heart hurt and he cursed Dumbledore for convincing Severus his only worth was as a spy and possible—likely—sacrifice.

“We don’t accept that,” Leif said firmly. “There is a lot you don’t know either. Dumbledore likes his secrets, you know that.”

“Unfortunately, there is much we cannot say without disrupting the course that has been set,” Alexei said, wishing with everything he had that they could explain the second prophecy.

“We simply ask that you trust us for now,” Leif said.

“If you trust that I know what I am doing,” Severus said.

“Of course, moy drug,” Alexei said.

“You spoke with Potter and Malfoy?” Severus asked, quickly changing topics.

Alexei nodded. “We did.”

“They are incredible young men,” Leif said, smiling.

“Treat them their age. Neither have had much of a childhood and have been made far older than they should be,” Severus said, causing yet another knowing look to pass between Alexei and Leif that he did not see. “You will work with them?”

“Of course. They are what we’ve been waiting for,” Alexei said.

“A real Aetherion and Elemental,” Leif said. “You have no idea the importance they will have.”