Disclaimer: I own a Car a Watch and some 178 Books. Alas, I don't own Harry Potter. However! If anyone wants to add onto the things I own, feel free to send them over; I could use some empty DVD's and pajama bottoms, among other things.

And if you have cheese-themed pj's, all the better, I say.

Pick My Brain: Aha! As I promised in the last story I updated, a new chapter awaits your reading pleasure! I quite liked it and it sets things nicely for what's coming up next.

To all of those who read this; thank you for being so patient! I give my word that the next chapter won't be so long in coming. Indeed, it's already half-way written!

-o

Observations

-o

He was warm and floating in a bubble of light that felt like it was moving at great speeds, even if his body didn't seem to register it. His magic was singing and something within him felt lighter with each second that passed. He wasn't disoriented, no, but the sensation of spinning was still there.

It was both strange and slightly exhilarating.

Like a rollercoaster that you couldn't see and couldn't truly feel, where light and touch were constant and some other, more mystical sense was the one truly experiencing it all. Time had no meaning to him, its passage seemingly infinite and instantaneous. Something called to him, however, pulled at him, and he tried to grasp it. When he was almost touching it, the light around him seemed to burst, like a bubble popping, and he was suddenly in a whole new place.

In a completely different universe.

Seeing how jarring portkeys were and how uncomfortable apparition had turned out to be, Harry had really expected something close to a plane-crash-type feeling for otherworldly travel. He couldn't feel happier at being wrong.

Now, as his eyes began to focus and the spots dissipated as he blinked, he found himself in a place that should be impossible; the room he'd arrived at, if it could even be called a room, shouldn't even be standing! A huge hall with curved, convex walls and a sweeping ceiling with nothing visible to support it was the very first thing he noticed. The people surrounding him, however, were the second, grabbing his attention from his the unfeasible surroundings.

He would look at them later, when he was completely sure that nothing would fall on him because he was looking at it wrong.

There were three individuals around him, with him in the center of a triangle. Directly on his left stood an imposing looking woman, her face neutral and her arms, draped with voluminous sleeves, were crossed beneath her ample bosom. Slighty behind and to his right was a tall man with a gentle air around him, oval glasses and a kind expression; if anything, Harry could clearly imagine this man with a thick, heavy book in his arms.

In front of him was someone who he had already met, though, and his little light seemed almost frozen in place; eyes wide and disbelief flashing across his face, "Yo-you're really here," the other teen muttered, taking a small, wavering step forward.

A smile formed on Harry's lips and he flowed to his feet with a gentle fluttering of his robes, "Of course I am. You should know— you were the one who brought me here," he commented lightly as he walked slowly toward his souls equal.

And wasn't that a strange thought?

He could feel something, and he realized with a jolt that that pulling sensation that had guided him here was still there, and that it led him towards the boy in front of him.

The realization warmed him, and the thought of having a soul-family, or something like it, didn't seem quite so strange anymore. In fact, he rather liked the idea.

"I can barely believe it," the blue-eyed boy said softly as he started swaying where he stood.

Harry was in front of him in a heartbeat, holding the younger teen up in a tight yet gentle hug, ignoring the suddenly offensive postures of the two other occupants of the room, or the feel of his magic ebbing and flowing around him, shining brightly and pulsing to an unknown rhythm. When it had surfaced, he didn't know, but it was reaching toward Aidan as if to comfort him; and he was glad for it. "Shouldn't you be resting, my little light? Couldn't you have greeted me with a projection?" he asked whisperingly into the trembling boy's ear.

"I . . ." the boy began before trailing off; sniffing slightly as he rested his head on Harry's shoulder, "I just had to make sure," he whispered, pressing his hands on Harry's back as he returned the hug, and Harry could feel them trembling as they grasped onto his robes, "You," Aidan stated in a broken whisper, "You're here," and his tone sounded awed and disbelieving all at once.

"I am," he told his little light, not completely understanding, but certainly feeling just how powerful Aidan's emotions were at that moment, how heightened. And really, living the kind of half-life that he had been living, suddenly having Harry there must be both overwhelming and a relief. Like a dying man finally being able to see and touch that which would cure him.

Though Harry couldn't help but feel that there was much more than that flowing out of Aidan at the moment. Just like he could feel that there was more from his side as well. Already his own magic, white and blinding, was settling around them like a cloak, formless yet protective.

"You're really here," the younger teen whispered again, more clearly this time, as he bent slightly backwards so that he could look Harry in the eyes, not once leaving his steadying embrace. A delicate hand came from behind him, and Harry adjusted his grip so that they were better balanced, even as that hand, still trembling, touched his cheek with a reverence that the black-haired wizard couldn't believe possible. "I was joyful, you know, when I found you," Aidan told him, and Harry couldn't and wouldn't have broken their gaze. For some reason, his chest tightened. "But now, I do not think I have words that could express how I feel. You just came, knowing the risks, when you haven't known me for more than a few days. Truly, I do not know how to thank you. Even now, as we stand here, I already feel better than I ever have. Already is my soul healing . . . it feels, for the first time, complete."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to respond to the sheer awe seeping out of his little light, so he just tightened his arms around him, glad to be able to help; happier than he could clearly express, really.

It wasn't something that he'd ever felt before, for that matter.

Still, he didn't have much time to think too much about it seeing that Aidan suddenly closed his eyes and leaned completely into him. If Harry hadn't been braced to better support his weight they would have both fallen to the floor. As things stood, he was able to catch the shorter teen and, without thought, crouched slightly and took him into his arms, cradling him to his chest.

He didn't panic either. Somehow, someway, he could feel that Aidan was only tired; Exhausted, even. The other boy didn't even weigh much, though he was sure that that was his magic's doing.

He could see the pearly white glow of it eddying through his skin; both helpful and supportive.

Turning in place, he looked toward the other occupants of the hall and paused, blinking. Upon the auburn-haired man's shoulder stood a lanky, but oddly graceful bird. Harry only got the impression of the sweeping neck, the long beak and the longer legs under its bright blue plumage before his attention moved to the more disconcerting figure of the glaring brunette woman and the black bear at her heal.

Where these the Guardians that his little light spoke of? Would his power attain an animal form as well? Did everyone's power have such a form in this world for that matter? And more importantly, what exactly could you do when your magic, if it was magic, which he wasn't so sure of at the moment, was outside of you and independent from you?

Harry had so many questions suddenly running through his head that his mind blanked and he decided to wait until later for the answers. At the moment, he had more pressing concerns than his magic and its formless state. His little light, as if hearing his thoughts, snuggled closer to him.

He was sure that Aiden had mentioned something about having healers, teachers and guardians helping him out with the ritual used to find him, so he had been expecting more people to be around for this. In which category did these two fall, then? And, come to think of it, what about Aiden's own parents? Did the other boy even have any?

The sudden lack of information on his little light felt quite disconcerting; something to be remedied as soon as possible, he knew.

He tightened his arms unconsciously and shifted Aidan even closer to him, looking at the tensed figures in front of him. Was it him, or were the animals shining slightly? He shook his head and blinked at them, suddenly deciding that these were probably Aiden's guardians, since he couldn't see teachers or healers reacting so defensively.

Clearing his throat, he addressed them, "Aiden is exhausted, could you lead me to his quarters? He really shouldn't have been here in person, given his condition," and it was only after he finished speaking that he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself, or asked for their names or said anything at all to make them less hostile towards him. Indeed, he just kind of ordered them around without thought; why had he done that? And why did he not introduce himself, at the very least?

Instead, his first concern had been to his little light. Nothing seemed as important as that, not at that moment.

He frowned.

It felt oddly right, however, and by the way the two strangers relaxed, they thought it quite right as well. He could feel his brows furrowing deeper in thought, but followed the tall man when he beckoned him to do so, and watched in fascination when the blue bird shimmered and seemingly sunk into him.

Ha! So he was right, the animals were their magic, or the shape that their power took when outside their bodies.

And wasn't that completely wicked? He couldn't wait 'till he could better communicate with his own power; what form would it take? And for that matter, what did the different shapes represent? And really, would your power need to be visible to work?

Another thing that caught his interest was the way this place was built. Everywhere he looked things curved gently and melded together. There was not one straight line in the whole place and it made him feel both disoriented and relaxed. He smiled down at his little light, already having so many things to ask him, and so many things to tell him.

"My name is Boreas," his redheaded guide finally spoke, startling him out of his musings, and Harry wondered if there were such a thing as greetings in this world, "And I am named after the north winds," not once did the man look back at Harry, even if his voice was gentle and informative, "The lady behind us is Mattie, and she is named thus by her strength in battle."

But then, maybe that was greetings enough?

They turned a corner and Harry glimpse a beautiful interior garden before they turned once again. Weren't there any more people in this place? It was huge! Still, his mind focused once again when Boreas began to speak, "We are the Shining Child's guardians and his guards. I understand that you might be confused about our world, but I ask that you hold your curiosity for now. The young master wishes to answer your queries himself and for those that he cannot, his teachers will be more than glad to intervene."

However gentle the man seemed, he distinctly lacked some tact, or some manners. Harry didn't know which, nor did he understand why the guard was being so short with him.

And wasn't he feeling warm and fuzzy right about now? Welcomed, even? Nevertheless, he had to consider what Aidan had told Hermione about the release of his power; maybe they knew and were weary of him, even if the whole thing was unintended? That would explain some of their attitude.

For now, though, he would have to wait and see.

At the end of the hallway, if you could call it a hallway, an arching, undulating doorway stood, and he was surprised when it opened as smoothly as it did. Truly, he could almost swear that the curving shape was familiar.

However, once he was inside he forgot all about it. The bedroom, for the nest-like bed in the middle of it could make it nothing but, was magnificent. Harry didn't know where to look at first; the clear pond within the room itself or the lush forest sprouting right outside of it. And that didn't even describe the inside of the place!

Great Merlin's Superman Stickers, but he had never seen a room as bizarre as this, or as welcoming, if that made any sense. It looked like nature had blown in the doors and made itself comfortable, though now that he thought about it, nothing about the house he was in looked terribly unnatural, really.

Amazed, he stepped pass the tall guard, ignoring the growl that Mattie seemed to be emitting and made his way straight towards the bed, where he placed Aidan gently down, or at least tried too.

The younger teen was firmly latched onto him, and from his grip Harry didn't think that the blue-eyed boy was planning on letting go anytime soon. So when a yawn almost split his face in two, Harry capitulated, shrugged, and laid down next to his little light, somewhat surprised when the other boy immediately burrowed into his side.

It was warm and endearing, and Harry realized that he hadn't really slept all that much lately. Surely a quick nap wouldn't hurt?

So he slept, ignorant of the staring eyed, the closing door and the glow of his magic draping around the both of them, both shining and warm, seeming as if a haze of heat surrounded them.

oOOoOOo

When he next opened his eyes, it seemed like no time had passed at all, yet he had never felt so rested. He languished in the feeling and looked around leisurely, an unconscious smile curling at his lips when he finally recognized the weight settled on his stomach.

His little light's head rested there, a slight book on his grasp, obviously reading.

Not wanting to disturb the other boy, though he was sure it would only be a matter of time before he realized that his pillow was awake, Harry took a better look at his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was, of course, that he was wearing his pajamas, along with the fact that it early morning. This meant that he'd slept a little longer than he had first intended. Why that happened was anyone's guess, but Harry didn't much mind. If by sleeping that much he could feel as good as he did now, well, then he'd be sleeping a whole lot more from now on.

Though he would need more comfy pj's if that was the case.

Which brought the question, just who had changed him into his pajamas in the first place? Unconsciously, he hoped it had been his soul's equal. He didn't want to think one of the guards were the culprits, that was for sure.

He mentally shrugged the whole thing aside, knowing that there wasn't anything he could do about it now.

Blinking slowly, he then focused on the bed, if you stretched your imagination enough to give it such a description; even if he has called it that yesterday. He had been obviously tired. Anyway, the bed was more like an uneven nest; it rose and dipped and swelled around them, and he was sure that he could spot a few places where you'd be able to lounge upright quite comfortably.

It was bloody huge, too. But then, if Aidan's movements were as limited as he now suspected, the breadth of it, as well as the obviously multi-purposed-like feel of the bed had its reasons. The fact that it was brilliantly comfortable wasn't lost on him either.

Another thing he noticed was the arching ceiling, strangely devoid of any support and flowing smoothly above them, only to bend, twist and seamlessly become the walls of the room, and just as smoothly turn into floors. There were no joints or seams or anything to indicate that they were separate, and instead of one single color, the room flowed through a rainbow of them, each melding flawlessly into the next.

If it weren't for the big and small sections of glass that were set into the ceiling and walls, Harry would swear that he was inside a seashell, since that's the impression the whole room gave.

How it worked, he didn't know. But it was brilliant all the same.

"You're awake," Aidan stated lowly, and he was sure that the other boy hadn't let him out of his sights the whole time he was asleep.

It made him feel special, that, and he suppressed the blush that threatened to blood in his cheeks.

Amused at being caught so easily, Harry pulled his eyes from the rooms and twisted just enough to see his little light looking up at him from where he was lying, head still on his stomach.

"No, I'm not," he responded childishly, and laughed at the confused look on the other boys face. Raising his hand, he pulled on a lock of honey brown hair, "I'm just joking, you know."

"Oh," Aidan blushed, "I see."

"But yeah, I've been awake for a bit now, not too much though. And since you were busy reading I didn't want to bother you," Harry explained, shifting to look out the biggest window (though he didn't know if the big pane of glass in the ceiling could be considered a window. Did the thing even open?) so that he didn't strain his neck or something.

The day was rather sunny, and he eyed the glass suspiciously before looking around. How come there weren't any massive shafts of sunlight streaming into such an open room, anyways?

"And did you rest well?" his little light asked after a pause. Harry felt the other boy settle on his side, probably facing towards him, his tummy still serving as a breathing pillow.

"Actually, I haven't ever felt quite so rested. I'm tempted to just go back to sleep and stay here for at least another week!"

"Surely not," Aidan stated, surprised, "There's so much for you to see and do. Lumentia is such a beautiful world. Undoubtedly you want to see it?"

"Well, of course," Harry told him, interested in the wistful way that the other teen spoke of his world (had Aidan been able to see his own world in his condition?), and he looked at him from the corner of his eye as he continued speaking, "But there's a lot of time for that, isn't there? I can always see the rest of the world later, right? I'd much stay here until you're healed so that you can show me this world of yours yourself."

And there it was; a brief flicker of amazement in those blue eyes. It seemed that Aidan hadn't expected him to stick around too long, or even wait for him. Maybe his little light still doubted his presence there? Maybe the teen though it a dream? Surely the boy realized that Harry had come to this world to help him?

Didn't he understand that to Harry he was already part of his family?

He could actually feel it now; the bond between them. The way his power changed when he was close to the other boy. The way his power shifted immediately when Aidan was touching him.

It surged protectively and shimmered around them, and Harry could tangibly feel how being close to him helped his souls equal. So how could he ever think that Harry wouldn't stay around until he was completely better?

In fact, his little light would have trouble getting rid of him even after that.

But then, maybe Aidan didn't feel his magic the way Harry was? Maybe he didn't fill the bond? Even now he could feel his power fluctuating under his skin, warm and smooth; patient. As if waiting for something. Not to mention how it enveloped the other boy as soon as he was close enough.

After a few moments of staring at him, Aidan swallowed and closed his eyes; "Do you truly mean that?" came the whispered question not long after.

Harry's hand moved on its own, and came to rest on the other boy's silky head of hair. He didn't turn to watch, however. His magic told him everything he needed to know. "You heard about my life from Hermione, right?" he spoke, and his magic, his power, wrapped around them like a white curtain, just this side of invisible, "The wizard that killed my parents, he tried to kill me, remember? When I was a baby I was hit with the killing curse; the most dangerous spell in our world. Do you know what it does?" he asked.

When he felt his little light shaking his head against his stomach, he continued, his hand idly playing with the other boy's hair, "It's a spell that forcibly removes your soul from your body." He paused when Aidan gasped, and Harry could almost feel the other boys understanding, "I should have died that night, but something happened. Something that's never happened before. Something that both stopped and reflected back the curse; until I met you, we all believed that it was my mother's sacrifice that saved me, but Aidan," he paused and shifted so he was looking into shocked blue eyes, "A great many mothers have died protecting their children, so what made me so very special? I'll tell you; it was because of you that I survived, even if my mother's sacrifice played some part of it as well. While she protected me, it was you who saved me.

"You've suffered because of it, but I owe you my life. Why do you think I made the decision to come to this world so quickly? After everything you've done for me, being here and helping you is the least I can do. And it's not because of feelings of duty or obligation. I'm here because I want to be here."

He wasn't prepared for Aidan to suddenly move and wrap him into the tightest hug Harry had ever experienced. And seeing how he'd been on the other end of Hagrid's and Mrs. Weasley's embraces, that was saying something.

Still, Harry returned it without reserve, and his power intensified around them, shining a brilliant white "I can feel it, you know," he whispered on Aidan's ear, "I can feel your soul."

Startled, his little light moved until their noses were touching and Harry could see the other teen's wide eyes. "You can?" came the whispered question.

He nodded, "My power, can you see it?" he received a slight nod, "It's not only covering us, its seeping into you. I can feel how it's helping your soul heal. I even have an idea of how long it will take. But my power is still unfocused and can only do so much. I get the feeling that it's waiting for something, that it's eager to do that something."

"That's amazing, Harry," Aidan told him in awe, a smile appearing on his face as he pulled back a bit, "Do you know what it means?" he was asked eagerly, and he was soon being pulled into a sitting position, a tray of food placed on his lap; where it came from, Harry didn't have the foggiest. "Quickly, have some breakfast, we need to summon your Sentinel, and the sooner we do it, the better."

Bemused at the change of gears, Harry watched his little light as he took another tray of food that he was sure hadn't been there a moment ago and dug in with enthusiasm. Shrugging and taking a fork, he followed suit, "What does it mean?" he asked after a moment.

"Its remarkable, really," Aidan started to explain, his excitement coloring his voice "You shouldn't be able to feel your power yet, Harry, or even tell what it is feeling. It means that you and your power are synchronizing with each other, and that means that you're ready for it to Manifest. It shouldn't have been possible, but if you say it's happening, I believe you."

Taking a drink of a sweet-tasting juice and feeling flattered by the unconcerned and unhampered show of trust, he inquired further as to what it all represented.

"Yes, well, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, aren't I?" the blond-streaked boy asked, almost bouncing in place. It was adorable, really. "Let me explain it from the beginning; you already know that our power and your magic are different, right?"

Nodding and with his mouth full, Harry motioned Aidan to continue, though he was still having trouble differentiating between the two things; Maybe because his own magic was suppressed and he couldn't really feel it? He'd have to get used to telling them apart if they were different though.

"While your magic is inherited, passed down by blood, our power is granted; gifted to us, as it were. Not everyone in Lumentia is Gifted, and there aren't really any parameters to how it is granted. Indeed, the number of Gifted varies widely throughout our history and there's no standard that we can see. One generation could host one Gifted for every one hundred people, while in others it could be as few as one Gifted for every one million."

"But why does it change so much?" he inquired. Magic, for one, was not quite that picky.

"The Sentinels," Aidan answered with surety, "They are the ones that grant us our power, and so they control who is and who is not worthy of it. They teach us how to use it, and, if they don't like how we are employing it, they can take it away. So of course, when our world is being particularly foolish and something like war breaks out, that is when the lowest numbers of Gifted appear. And without the help of power-wielders, wars just don't last long here."

"This world must be very peaceful then," Harry commented, amazed by the concept.

"It is, generally. We have our conflicts and difficulties, but nothing quite so large scale as full-out war. We've learned that much, at least. Still, what you need to understand is where our power comes from. There are twelve Sentinels, and when they gift us with our power, they do not give us specific abilities from the beginning, but a seed.

"How we grow and mature, how we change and what we do affect our power in incomprehensible ways. Slowly that seed bears fruit and by the age of seven, when we learn to unlock our power, that seed has grown into a solid foundation; Our Guardian."

"You say that as if this Guardian is alive," Harry pointed out a bit dubiously, while finishing the last of his delicious breakfast, "And besides, I'm not exactly seven, now, am I?"

His little light nodded, though, and explained, "You're not, and they are, Harry. Alive, that is. In a way, the Guardian is your power, and it is a sentient, intelligent being. Many say that a Guardian is born from the Sentinels themselves and as such, act as a link between you and them. Other's speculate that a Guardian is a soul that inhabits your power and lives and experiences life through you, and because of it, understands you better than anything or anyone else."

"Wait a minute," he gestured, confused, "are you telling me that there's something else inside of me? That my power, this Guardian, is alive within me?"

"In a way," Aidan smiled, "but I'm getting a bit confusing, aren't I? Why don't I just show you? After all, the reason why I'm so excited is because you can feel your power, is it not? And that is the first step. Now we just need to summon your Sentinel and Manifest your Guardian. And then we'll be able to see the shape of your power."

"I don't quite understand, but sure," Harry said and, spotting his trunks standing by the door, he got out of bed and made his way over, rummaging on the top one for a change of clothes, "Just let me get some fresh clothes one, eh?"

"Certainly," the younger teen agreed, carefully swinging his legs over one of the flat sides of the bed and looked at him while he changed, "I sometimes forget that others have to change garments all the time."

Looking over after pulling on a jumper, Harry noticed that the other boy was wearing the same skin-tight suit as when he first saw him, "Don't you have to change as well?" he asked, interested.

"Not as often. This suit has quite a few properties, you see; from keeping me clean to helping me walk; it enhances my strength and reinforces my muscles enough to grant me some freedom of movement. More importantly, it channels my power and as such, it allows me to project myself more easily. After all, the most difficult part of projecting is doing it with something that is not a part of you."

"So you could project yourself starkers if you weren't careful?" he looked over, surprised.

"Exactly. But then, that's what the suit is for," Aidan responded with a smile.

Tying up his trainers, Harry looked at the mirror leaning against the wall and made a mental note to ask for a place to place it. After all, he had agreed with Hermione and Ron to try to make contact three days after his arrival. Shaking his head, he finally made his way over to the other boy, "Alright, I'm set, so how is this going to work?"

Aidan just smiled a small, mischievous smile, and held out his hand, "Help me up and I'll take you somewhere where I can show you."

With a smile to match Harry did just that, and upon seeing how shaky the other's feet were, he easily slid an arm around the slim waist. In fact, he could also feel his power flowing out of him and covering the other boy; helping him stand up.

It was becoming easier and easier to detect his power's willingness to help him, and he wondered just how sentient and how intelligent it was. And if there truly was a soul guiding it, how was it? Would Harry be able to come to an agreement with it?

This led him to another question. Did using this power tire you? It would explain why he had been so exhausted upon arrival. But then, maybe it only happened in dimensional travel? After all, while Aidan had been the one pulling him along, it had been his power that had protected him throughout his journey.

Was that why they were both so exhausted yesterday?

However, his thoughts faltered at the sheer wonder that stole across his little light's face, "I—I've never felt quite so steady on my feet before. I . . . I feel stronger than I've ever felt," he told Harry with awe.

Harry's smile was small and gentle, happy to be able to help, "My power is lending you a hand, as it were, but just to be sure, don't let go of me. I'm not sure if it will keep helping if you're not close enough."

With a suddenly shy smile, Aidan slipped his own arm around Harry's waist and comfortable, they set out in a slow pace. Harry kept a close eye on the other boy, wondering why his body was so weak; just why did his body suffer when it was his soul that was damaged?

Harry didn't quite understand.

Still, he didn't ask. There were too many things that he didn't know, so he wanted to take things one at a time. Already his head was swimming with the mechanics of how power was granted here, and who did the granting. And he was sure that there was even more to it than what Aidan had said. He felt that until he understood that better, he wouldn't be able to understand everything else.

After all, this world and its Gifted seemed to be irreparably linked. And if those with power played such a big role, knowing how that power worked, and controlling his own was the first step in understanding everything else.

If nothing else, it was an interesting adventure.

When they were approaching the door, something caught his attention. Aidan, not pausing in his steps, raised a hand slightly and flicked his wrist and, well, something big came out and opened the door. It was nothing but a light distortion of air, but Harry got the impression of even more.

Could that have been Aidan's power? Could it have been the shape it took when outside his body? And if so, then what was it? What shape did it take? And why didn't he allow Harry to see it?

By the impish little grin that his little light aimed his way, Harry was sure that it was intentional, and he had the almost irresistible urge to tickle the answers out of him.

Still, some higher power (his curiosity) stayed his hand and he just pinched the other boy in the ribs. He would be getting his answers soon enough, he knew.

"Hey, what was that for?" his little light asked, half guilty, half indignant.

Harry didn't answer, too surprised to say anything else. For beyond the doors and striding in their direction was an imposing old man, and behind him a griffin was rearing, wings flapping, beak opened and ready to utter a cry.

Harry could feel the power simply pouring from them in waves.

"Master Damian?" Aidan said in astonishment.

The old man looked balefully at his little light, a sharp expression in his gnarled features. "Do not give me that look, young one; you knew very well that I was coming to see you today, or did you forget?" The griffin settled beside the old man and stepped threateningly forward, "For that matter, what are you doing walking about when you know that you should not? Do you have so little regard for your life?"

Slowly, ominously, the old man took a step forward and glared at Harry with such viciousness that he thought he skin would peel off, "And who would you be?" The sound of the griffin's clacking beak startled him even more.

Harry gulped, and Aidan wasn't too far behind him.

Just who the heck was this?

-o

TBC…

-o

Pick My Brain: So, waddaya think? Good, Bad, So-So? Lemme know, eh? Oh! And you all should expect another one of my fics to be updated in three days!

This one will see some updating action next week, so stay tuned!