{Edited} A Merchant's Odyssey - Chapter 27 (Patreon)

AN: Edited chapters do not count toward monthly quota's.

Chapter 27: The Marker

The meet-up location was a restaurant.

‘Because of course it is.’ Sebastian rolled his eyes as they approached the old European fancy establishment.

“Fiamma.” Sebastian read the name and directed them toward the doors, immediately noting over a dozen gazes locking onto them. “I think we have the right place.”

His eyes lightly glowed as he took in the wards covering the place and began identifying and breaking them down in his mind.

Neo smirked, twirling her umbrella with a spark of excitement.

“Stop.” A pair of rough, well-groomed men stopped them at the door.

A large bald man barely fitting in his suit, and a rogue-like handsome middle-aged man with a scar running down his cheek. "What's your business here?"

The man spoke in a rough Italian accent.

“We’re here to meet with…” Sebastian trailed off as he worked his jaw to say the words. “Rocco ‘The Hammer’ DeLuca.”

“You think anyone can meet Father?” The larger bald one said brashly, already looking like he wanted to throw a punch, but Scarface stopped him before he could step forward.

“You got an appointment?” Scarface asked calmly.

Sebastian slowly pulled an envelope from his suit jacket and handed it over.

The man pulled a wand and hit it with a host of scanning spells, not that Sebastian blamed him, before he took it and read it over.

“He’s legit.” Scarface waved for his men to stand down. “Come on in, Father was expecting you.”

When the doors opened, Sebastian was immediately struck by the soft sound of classical music and running water.

The lobby was elegant, with a central fountain spitting water from an animated dolphin's blowhole.

Dark marble flooring, dim lighting, and velvet carpets created a luxurious fine-dining atmosphere, with only a dozen tables visible through an archway that separated the dining area from the lobby.

A young blond woman stood on stage before a twelve-piece band, playing a beautiful classical tune on a violin that Sebastian could faintly identify as Vivaldi.

"Wait here." Their guide stopped them at the entrance and snapped his fingers at two guards. "These two will scan you. Leave your weapons at the front desk. You may keep your wands."

Scarface turned to Neo and gave her a warning look. “If you have something dangerous tucked away, you can use a side room to remove it. Otherwise, if my men find something, they will be taking it one way or another."

The warning flew over Neo’s head as she grinned dangerously.

“I would tell your men to keep their wandering hands in check.” Sebastian added with a token of amusement. “My lady might be inclined to remove any straying limbs, to say nothing of what I will respond with.”

Sebastian was more of a quiet supporter. He knew Neo could handle herself, so he didn't bother speaking up most of the time, but it was appropriate to stand his ground in a situation like this.

“Understood.” The man took in their looks and snorted humorously. “You got balls to say that here. Name?”

"Sebastian."

“Giuseppe.” Scarface responded and turned to Neo. “And you?”

Sebastian opened his mouth, but Neo beat him to it, choosing to respond herself. "Neo."

She winked at Sebastian behind an illusion.

“A pleasure.” Giuseppe politely inclined his head to her and waved the guards forward. “I’ll inform Father you’ve arrived on time.”

"Weapons." A gruff guard asked, a basket in hand, as his partner held up a glowing wand.

Sebastian didn't bother hiding anything as he reached into his coat and pulled out a Dust grenade. “I wouldn’t try touching these if I were you. Warded.”

They were keyed to go off if any Mana signature but his own activated them.

Both men immediately tensed until he put it in the basket.

"And you?" The guard turned with the basket to Neo, but Sebastian coughed politely to get his attention.

“I wasn’t done.” Sebastian pulled out a second grenade.

And then a third.

And a fourth.

The guards' eyes widened with each passing moment as he kept pulling more out.

“And that should be… it." Sebastian patted himself down unnecessarily to check his expanded pouches before casually tossing the final grenade into the stack. "Twenty-one, for good luck."

Every guard in the lobby held their breath as they watched the final grenade until it clinked against the others and fell still.

A beat of silence passed as they all glared at Sebastian.

“What?” Sebastian blinked at the stares while Neo was laughing herself silly under an illusion. “I’d have more, but this suit doesn’t have any more pockets.”

“Is that… all, Sir?” The guard holding the basket swallowed nervously and asked far more respectfully than a moment earlier.

“Yes, all I have left is my wand." Sebastian only brought it for appearance's sake.

He even brought a second fake for Neo.

“Fair warning, I wouldn’t remove those lovely little toys too far from this building.” Sebastian hinted with a friendly smile. “Proximity is important to the ward schemes.”

A second beat of silence fell through the hall, most looking at Sebastian like he was insane.

“U-understood.” A fresh guard very carefully lifted the basket from the sweating guy holding it and took it to a side room while the first turned to Neo with a fresh basket. "And you, miss?"

Neo flipped her umbrella around and placed it in the basket, then pulled a throwing knife from her sleeve.

“Grazie mille." The guard let out a breath of relief at the simple loadout.

Only to look up and feel a sense of foreboding at Neo’s kind smile.

Neo held up a finger and pulled out a second throwing knife from her other sleeve.

And then a third from above her left shoe.

And a fourth from her right shoe.

By then, every guard was staring at the duo as Neo counted out exactly twenty-one knives in the basket, each pulled from a different location.

"For good luck." Neo winked at Sebastian, who had to fight to keep from laughing at how the guards would lose their minds when those knives vanished.

‘She’s lucky she can vanish under illusions to crack up.’ Sebastian envied his lady.

The guard who took the grenade basket to another room returned and took the second basket, looking oddly at why everyone was afraid of a bunch of knives, before leaving in the same direction.

"I'll be scanning you both now." The first guard said it more as a question than a fact.

"Feel free." Sebastian spread his arms welcomingly, matched by a cheeky Neo.

“Right.” The guard coughed to regain some composure and threw a few spells at the two, all while Sebastian’s eyes dimly glowed and traced their purpose. “They’re clean.”

Almost as if on cue, Giuseppe stepped back into the lobby with a man who looked like he'd just come out of a fistfight with a Nundu.

Standing around six-foot-five with forearms straight out of a Popeye cartoon, slicked-back grey hair, a well-groomed chin beard, and dressed in a suit that somehow made Sebastian's own seem cheap.

“Sebastian, Neo.” Giuseppe deferred to the older man. “Meet Father, Rocco DeLuca. Father, your guests.”

“Hn.” A gruff sound echoed from the older man.

Scars crisscrossed his face, going over his left eye where a glass orb lay instead.

He silently regarded Sebastian for a long moment, then turned to Neo for the same intense stare off, before nodding. “Acceptable.”

Rocco turned and said nothing more, but that was seemingly enough of a message to get people moving.

“Right this way.” Giuseppe gestured for them to follow. “Father would like this meeting to be private.”

Sebastian raised a brow and caught sight of the blond violinist looking their way from the stage with a frown before he followed behind the group into the kitchen.

“Father.” Men and women in fine clothing stood from tables where they were smoking and playing cards to incline their heads to the older man as he walked by.

Rocco said nothing, only letting out occasional grunts of acknowledgment as he passed, and yet not a single person raised their head until he moved on.

The members of the DeLuca mafia shot Sebastian and Neo an odd range of uncaring, challenging, and, in the case of one particular handsome eighteen-year-old guy looking at Neo, a flirty wink as they moved past.

Said flirt went down a moment later, wide-eyed and terrified, to something only the handsome Italian youth could see, but no one moved to help him up after he made a fool of himself.

“Sorry about that.” Giuseppe hung back with quirked lips. “New recruits.”

“It’s fine.” Sebastian side-eyed the bright smile on Neo’s face. “She has fun playing with challengers.”

Giuseppe only chuckled but said nothing more.

The group walked through a far larger kitchen than Sebastian would have imagined, seeing rows of Muggle weaponry side by side with rows of pots and pans.

Only when they hit a back wall that revealed a highly defended staircase did the kitchen finally end, as Sebastian and Neo were led up to an outdoor office in a rooftop garden.

Four guards watched the door while eight others spread around the roof, no one close enough to listen in.

"Sit." Rocco gestured to a pair of seats before a fancy hardwood table, then sat in a hand-carved wooden chair on the other side, back straight, and gestured to Giuseppe, who procured him a cigar and held up a light for the old man to puff on. “You have until I finish my smoke to explain why I should care you exist.”

The more he spoke, the more the old man’s voice sounded like someone who gargled gravel.

Sebastian noticed the dismissive tone but didn't let that bother him as he flicked his fingers and produced a particular locket. "Your Marker."

Rocco’s good eye narrowed on it as he gestured. Giuseppe stepped forward to take it before it reached the old man.

Rocco clicked it open and took a long look at his bloody thumbprint, the Mana on the print unmistakable. "This is indeed my Marker."

“Does that answer why we’re here?” Sebastian challenged.

"No, it does not." Rocco grunted and tossed the Marker on the table between them like a piece of trash. "You are not Arcturus Black, the man I owe a life debt to. You are not of his blood, to whom I have the common courtesy to respond. You are no one to me, so I will ask again."

Rocco's sole eye darkened. "Why should I care you exist?"

"You should care because magic remembers." Sebastian's unnerving, odd eyes stayed locked on the older man without flinching. "A life debt is owed, and it can be taken one way or another."

“You would threaten me, boy?” Rocco’s tone dropped. “In my home, at the center of my territory?”

“I don’t need to threaten.” Sebastian's eyes flickered to the Marker. "Or would you like a theoretical lesson on what a life debt means, Old Man?"

He answered in the same tone he'd been spoken to in.

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife as the two stared down, smoke drifting idly from Rocco's lit cigar.

Then a dry, amused bark left Rocco's lips as he turned to Giuseppe. "This one has steel."

“You should have seen what he did in the lobby, Father.” Giuseppe shared the older man’s amusement. “He brought enough enchanted explosives to bring down a city block.”

“Did he now?” Rocco seemed even more amused as he turned back to Sebastian. “And why would you do that, young man?”

“To give you a reason.” Sebastian answered simply.

“Oh?” Rocco smirked. “What reason would that be?”

Sebastian smiled. “When the spies of other rival families see me leave and wonder why, you’ll have a solid excuse without losing face.”

“Is that so?” Rocco ashed his cigar. “Bold of you to assume I allow spies in my territory.”

“Bold of you to think I assume before speaking.” Sebastian leaned back and crossed his legs. He might not enjoy the game, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t play it. “I’ve seen two since I arrived twenty minutes ago.”

Rocco’s amusement vanished like a light switch. “Choose your words carefully, boy.”

"Consider the first reveal as a token of goodwill." Sebastian remained unfazed as he looked at Giuseppe. "The new recruit who winked at my partner."

“Him?” Giuseppe looked unconvinced. “I know his brother.”

“Not him.” Sebastian shook his head. “The one to his left in a green tie with a mole on his left cheek. He’s wearing an amulet that’s letting him through your wards.”

Giuseppe turned to Rocco for direction, who held Sebastian’s stare for a moment before raising a finger.

Giuseppe vanished on the spot in an apparition.

“Say you are correct.” Rocco spoke with a narrowed gaze, continuing to puff away. “How would you know such a thing?”

“Let’s just say I’m very.” Sebastian’s odd eyes glowed with an inner light, clear to the old man. “Observant.”

Rocco’s own gaze widened slightly before he hummed and quietly smoked, saying no more.

The silence stretched until a minute later, when Giuseppe reappeared with a frown and nodded to Rocco.

“It would seem you were correct.” Rocco wasn’t happy, but he still nodded in gratitude. “And the second you mentioned?”

“Do I have a reason to exist in your presence now?” Sebastian challenged with a raised brow. “Or does our conversation end when your cigar does?"

“Cheeky brat.” Rocco snorted and leaned back in his chair, putting the cigar down on a tray. “You have my attention.”

Sebastian smirked in victory and answered. “The flute player to the left of the blond violinist on stage. She is wearing a hairpin that’s masking her from your wards.”

Giuseppe didn't even wait for direction this time; he vanished, but the dense wave of Mana pulsing off the old man said enough about how displeased he was.

Rocco growled. "If you are correct, you have more than my attention."

Sebastian observed the odd reaction before it clicked.

“Family?” Sebastian asked.

Rocco grunted. “My granddaughter.”

“Quite a skilled musician then.” Sebastian commented idly to distract the man from his anger. “She was playing The Four Seasons when we passed through, if I’m not mistaken.”

"Mn." His hardened gaze flickered with a satisfied gleam for a moment. "Bianca is the pride of my family."

"Understandable why someone is trying to get close to her, then." Sebastian figured it might have been a power play, information gathering, or a kidnapping attempt, but what did he know?

He was literally passing through and simply took whatever advantage he could.

Giuseppe reappeared with a hairpin in hand. "Ferraro famiglia, Father."

"Bastards!" Rocco's fist slammed the table, and Neo jerked awake from her nap under an illusion. "Cowardly wolves."

Rocco spat, going off on a string of Italian curses as veins bulged across his neck.

Giuseppe put the hairpin down and sent Sebastian a wary, if thankful, look. "I am not ungrateful, but how did you know there was a spy before you arrived?”

Rocco stopped cursing to lock onto him as well.

“Because there is always a spy.” Sebastian spoke with a strong enough English drawl to make them feel stupid. “Even the Vatican will have spies.”

Rocco snorted and looked away in silent agreement. "He hasn't lied, Giuseppe."

"As you say, Father." Giuseppe stepped back with his suspicions dropped.

"Just like that?" Sebastian raised a brow, ready to defend his point, but Rocco waved it away.

“Being observant isn’t a unique skill, boy.” Rocco scoffed and took his cigar back, this time simply to smoke. “I may only have one eye, but it has seen enough.”

‘Old shit.’ Sebastian mentally commented. “So, can we get to the point of our discussion?”

“One moment.” Rocco picked up a pen and wrote something down quickly before passing it to Giuseppe. “Send the boys out for a run.” 

"Yes, Father." Giuseppe walked over to a guard and handed over the note with a few whispers.

"Now." Rocco pointed his still-smoking cigar at Sebastian. "You have my thanks, and my full attention. Say your piece."

“I need a job done discreetly.” Sebastian reached into his coat and pulled out a fingernail-sized flat piece of metal.

He showed it to Giuseppe before getting the nod to present it.

"Just stick it to any surface, and it will camouflage itself." Sebastian placed it on the table, and everyone watched it shift to blend in as if it were never there. "I need a number of these metal pieces spread throughout a specific location.”

“And the catch?” Rocco asked calmly, showing no interest yet.

“It needs to be done discreetly.” Sebastian repeated himself with a hard look. "Very discreetly. These pieces can pass through wards without an issue, so your men can easily get them in. They need to be spread throughout every surface level of the location."

Andromeda had stuck one to a random pedestrian while visiting her friend at the Ministry, and no one noticed.

Rocco hummed, not removing his gaze from Sebastian. “Target?”

Sebastian held the stare as he responded. “The British Ministry of Magic.”

Rocco's finger twitched as he ashed his cigar. "I don't like getting involved with foreign governments."

“There is no involvement necessary.” Sebastian reassured. "Just a simple drop-off."

“If it was simple, you would not be sitting in front of me.” Rocco snorted and went back to smoking. “Why not do this yourself?”

“I have commitments on my time, and I am unable to fabricate reasons without suspicion to get around the Ministry.” Sebastian answered truthfully.

The Ministry of Magic had been the center of magical England for the past two centuries, had existed in some form for many centuries more, and had its own ward schemes set deep into the foundations.

Unless someone in a position of power, or a magical highly skilled and powerful, wanted someone to sneak in, there was no possible way for anyone to simply come in after hours and take a walk around.

Not to mention the risk of the Unspeakables catching wind or even attracting their attention. No matter how powerful Sebastian became, he would never underestimate the skill set of a ruthless, talented mage.

Sebastian finished his speech. “And getting around unnoticed is something I’m sure your men are easily capable of.”

“Perhaps.” Rocco considered it. “This is all you want?”

"That's all." Sebastian's eyes fell on the Marker. "Do this discreetly without anyone knowing, and your life debt is cleared.”

“Hmph.” Rocco grunted and looked away in thought. “Youth trading away a debt that cannot be repaid for this.” The old man shook his head. “I can’t tell if Arcturus would be impressed or disgusted.”

"Considering this concerns the continuity of his bloodline.” Sebastian drawled. “I assume he'd be fine with it."

"Bah, to think how far the Blacks have fallen." Disgust crossed Rocco's face. "When I met Arcturus in the war, he was a cunning predator. His wit is what kept our unit alive, and his will is what kept me alive."

Rocco ran a finger over the scar going over his eye.

“It will fall further if action isn’t taken.” Sebastian met the old man’s gaze.

Rocco seemed to fall into distant memories for a moment at what he saw before returning to the present.

“You have fire in your eyes, son.” Rocco chuckled with a trace of respect. “It reminds me of Arcturus. Tempered flames waiting for their moment to burn fierce and quick, leaving naught but ash behind.”

His gaze trailed to Neo, who had been watching everything silently, as if it were a TV drama. “And you, you remind me of Cassiopeia Black, the silent knife.” The man blew out a trail of smoke. “Now that was a woman.”

Neo tilted her head in curiosity, but Sebastian cut that off before she found another dangerous role model to get inspired by. “Do you accept?”

Rocco looked back at him with a sigh. “When Arcturus’s exiled granddaughter first contacted me hoping for a suicide force, I rejected her. When she changed the request to relocation and protection for her family, I was willing to do it for an old friend.” His lips quirked into a smile. “Yet now you come to me changing the request for a third time, and I find myself intrigued at what the result of such a request will bring.”

‘Damn it, Auntie. You were really going to go through with that shit.’ Sebastian kept his expression controlled.

“The result will be the death of my family's enemies." Sebastian responded tightly. "So?"

“I will do this for you.” Rocco finished his cigar and put it out in the ashtray. “To clear my debt to the Black family.”

His words were more of a flavorful excuse just to get rid of it.

“Wonderful.” Sebastian stood and pulled a nearly bulging pouch out of his jacket. “Have them set at least fifty feet apart, at most two hundred, with an even split between each floor from floors 1 to 8. Do not go to floor 9.”

Rocco paused and silently stared at the bulging pouch. “How many?”

“999.” Sebastian casually dropped it on the table, where it made a noticeable metallic sound. “Please have it done within a month.”

Rocco’s lips twitched in equal parts amusement and annoyance. “Well played, boy.”

"Thank you." Sebastian offered Neo a hand, and she took it happily. "I'll return in a month." He pocketed the Marker off the table. "To finish the trade."

"Very well." Rocco looked bemused as he shifted his gaze from the pouch to Sebastian. "I am a man of my word."

"I would hope so." Sebastian turned to leave, but the old man stopped him with a gesture.

“You are no son of the Blacks, but I feel nostalgic somehow.” Rocco felt a faint memory tickling him. “What is your last name?”

Sebastian raised a brow but had nothing to hide. “White.”

“White?” An odd look crossed Rocco’s face. “Hm.”

Sebastian paused at the thoughtful sound. “Is there an issue?”

He never found a trace of any notable deceased family members.

“No.” Rocco said after a moment, shaking his head as he waved to the side. “Giuseppe will show you out.”

Sebastian was ready to ask more, but Giuseppe stepped forward and changed the subject. "You want this job to be discreet, correct?"

“Yes?” Sebastian hesitantly answered.

“Then perhaps you wouldn’t mind pointing out any other spies among our members.” Giuseppe smiled kindly, throwing a friendly arm over Sebastian’s shoulder. “For the sake of security, of course.”

"…" Sebastian's brow twitched at the shamelessness, but before he could figure out a response, Rocco looked over with the same gleam.

“Trust blossoms from action, rather than words.” The old man spouted his wisdom.

Neo looked away to hide her laugh as Sebastian twitched harder.

‘These shameless fuckers…’ Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly nodded. “Alright, let’s get this over with. I can spare an hour.”

“Right this way.” Giuseppe was more than happy to direct him toward the stairs, almost eager to sink his teeth into traitors.

Sebastian shook his head as they left the garden. “This is a restaurant as well, right?”

"Of course, it's a Michelin-star establishment." Giuseppe stated proudly. “Shall I reserve a table?”

Sebastian looked at his lady's perked-up ears and knew refusing was a losing battle.

“Do you have any Neapolitan desserts on the menu?”

Giuseppe sounded insulted. “We make fresh Sfogliatelle daily."

Neo spoke up for the second time that night with a strong voice. "Please get the table."

“Of course." Giuseppe laughed. “What are friends for, yes?”

He turned to snap his fingers at a waiter and set it up.

'At least now we have a better reason for getting this dressed up.' Sebastian thought, seeing how excited Neo was.

Deciding to play it up, he gave her a gentlemanly bow, arm outstretched. “Would you care to dine with me this evening, Love?”

Neo faux-swooned and grabbed hold of Sebastian's offered elbow, raising her chin like a proper noblewoman.

“You’re having fun with this.” Sebastian bent down to lay a kiss on her lips and felt her giggle against him as he leaned into her ear. “Did you finish?”

Neo shot him a mock glare for questioning her capabilities.

“I would never doubt you.” Sebastian chuckled and kissed the side of her head to appease her ego. “But it never hurts to check.”

Neo smirked and whispered in his ear. “Feel free to check.”

Giuseppe chose that moment to return. “Everything is set. If you’ll follow me?”

“Lead on.” Sebastian escorted Neo back through the halls; all the while, his eyes observed something only he could see.

He may have needed the mafia to do a job for him that neither he nor Neo had the time or ability to risk right now, but that didn’t mean he trusted them.

‘If they don’t give me a reason to doubt them, then nothing has to change.' A slight, devious smile stretched across his lips. ‘But if they do…’

Hundreds of camouflaged pins glowed with Soul Power throughout the building, undetectable with Mana alone.

Sebastian’s lips pulled back in a sharp grin. ‘Then they’re next.’

000

As the young couple helped his family, Rocco stared at a blank sheet of paper in the garden as old memories played through his mind.

‘The White family in Europe?’ He was baffled. ‘Adopted by the exiled daughter of the Black family, at that?'

Something didn't add up in that equation, and the old man put pen to paper, starting with the address.

[Thebes, Egypt]

000

In the end, there were another five spies among the members Sebastian looked over.

Three were kitchen staff; one of which being a sous chef. A fourth was a second recruit, and the fifth was, surprisingly, a veteran member who had turned against them.

Something about marriage and family loyalty, but Sebastian wasn't paying much attention to the Italian soap opera.

He did his part and was politely escorted to a private table for a romantic, candlelit dinner with his lovely lady, while they were serenaded by an excellent orchestral performance.

“I’ll admit, this isn’t as bad as I expected.” Sebastian twirled his crystal wine glass after finishing his Bistecca alla Fiorentina, also known as a Florentine Steak, one of the world's best-rated steak dishes. “Wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”

Neo nodded like a proper high-born lady and proceeded to viciously attack her fourth plate of dessert behind an illusion like the savage proper lady she was.

It only hid her manners, not her appetite.

A snort of dry British humor left Sebastian's lips as he watched a middle-aged woman at a nearby table stare at her with pure envy.

Sebastian idly glanced around them. "I fear you're going to have to face an honor duel from some of the other ladies in attendance, Love.”

Neo looked up and seemed to finally notice the female wrath.

She swallowed, met their eyes, and flagged down the waiter for a fifth order of Sfogliatelle without breaking eye contact.

The hateful looks that followed were almost physically felt.

“Never change, Neo.” Sebastian shook his head with a chuckle and sipped his wine.

"You are quite rude, you know?" A new voice spoke up in accented English, and Sebastian blinked as he took in the young blond woman suddenly standing beside their table.

“Excuse me?” Sebastian raised a brow in confusion.

“Stealing my grandfather away like you did.” Bianca DeLuca crossed her arms beneath her generous chest, dressed in a fine red dress that hugged her body in all the best ways. “I was in the middle of my performance.”

“Ah.” Sebastian recalled her frown when he arrived. “I can hardly be blamed for that. I was given a time for my meeting.”

“Damn it, Grandpa.” Bianca switched back to Italian to curse. “He promised to stop doing this.”

“If it’s any consolation, the man clearly loves you dearly.” Sebastian surprisingly spoke up in Rocco’s defense. “Even if he is a shameless old man.”

And then threw him under the bus.

Bianca’s lips twitched as she fought a laugh. “I’ve rarely heard a man insult him inside these walls.”

“It’s not an insult if it’s the truth.” Sebastian raised his wine glass in salute. “Or if one takes the truth as an insult.”

“Bold.” Bianca finally laughed and turned to Neo, who hadn’t stopped eating the whole time they talked. “My apologies. Bianca DeLuca.”

“Neo.” Neo allowed her voice to trail out, slowly getting a bit more used to speaking for herself.

“Neo?” Bianca tilted her head and took in Neo’s color scheme, as well as the dessert she was eating. “Neapolitan?”

Neo perked up and shot her a thumbs up.

“My, how creative.” A smile lit up Bianca’s face. “I always wanted to try mixing up colors, but my mother was always against it.”

A mischievous gleam entered Neo's eyes as she smiled. Before Bianca knew it, she was sitting in a chair beside Neo's own.

“Huh?” Bianca was taken aback.

Neo’s lips didn’t appear to be moving beyond chewing, but a flush quickly rose on Bianca's neck as she heard something Neo was telling her.

“I couldn’t!” The flush spread to the blond's cheeks.

Neo only grinned wider.

'Well then, Neo made a friend.' Sebastian idly noted and decided to ignore the guard detail staring at their table, which had nearly tripled. 'I'll just enjoy my wine.'

Thankfully, nothing untoward happened, and when they were finished, the bill was waved for them.

All in all, Sebastian was surprised to find that it was a lovely evening. One where he could address a long-standing issue, pamper Neo properly, and let friendship bloom between unlikely individuals.

Although, when Bianca ended up flicking her wand to add pink strands to her hair, Sebastian was quick to grab Neo and make a noble escape when he saw Rocco re-entering the dining hall.

‘Can’t be blamed if we’re not here.’

0000

"You're really never satisfied, are you?" Sebastian mused as he poked Neo's cheek while they walked down Diagon Alley back in Britain, arm in arm, leaning against each other. "Didn't you just stuff yourself full of high-quality Italian pastries?”

Neo swatted his finger away and raised her chin proudly, stepping away to twirl on the spot, showing off her flawless, curvy waist, and circled back into his side.

"Is this one of those mysterious two-stomach things that women speak of?" Sebastian had heard that argument before, but he found no biological evidence to support the statement. “My studies lack proof.”

Neo just stuck her tongue out at him and continued to excitedly pull him to the door of Florean’s Ice Cream Parlor.

He had been promising it to her all week, and now it was time to ante up.

“Alright, alright, no need to rush.” Sebastian laughed and opened the door for her, only to freeze a second later as a surprised voice called out from behind.

“Nick?"

Ice-cold water poured down Sebastian's spine at the sound of the familiar voice.

"No, not Nick." The male voice muttered, then spoke up in slight shock. “Sebastian?”

Sebastian saw that Neo hadn't noticed and already had her face glued to the glass covering the ice cream, so he quietly closed the door and turned to face the speaker with a carefully controlled expression.

“It’s been a while, Mr. Croaker.”

The man behind him was nearly six feet tall, with greying black hair smoothly swept back and a well-trimmed beard trying to hide the stress lines on his face.

Circular glasses sat over wide brown eyes, staring at Sebastian as if he'd seen a ghost.

“Sebastian. My word, it is you.”

00

“Sebastian. My word, it is you.” Saul Croaker felt his throat close up at the far too similar face of his deceased friend looking back at him.

Or, more accurately, the heterochromatic eyes staring back at him through the face of his friend's son.

“Look at you, son.” Saul smiled brightly to mask his thoughts as he took in the high-class suit Sebastian was wearing. “I barely recognized you.”

“Just a recent purchase.” Sebastian politely responded, brushing off his jacket. “Wanted to make date night a bit special.”

Saul's gaze flickered to the glass door, where a well-dressed Neo pointed at something the shopkeeper was laughing about, until Sebastian casually stepped in the way.

“You are certainly on the right course there.” Saul chuckled as he changed the subject. “You clean up well.”

"Thank you." Sebastian gestured to the door, face carefully natural. "Were you about to enter?"

“Oh, no, no. Don’t have much of a sweet tooth, I’m afraid." Saul's smile hid a storm of emotions as he took in the prominent scarring across Sebastian’s neck. “I was just on my way to a pub for a drink. Long day at work, you know how it is.”

A long day of making a mockery of his oaths, hiding the escalating paranoia of his senior members from the greater Ministry while they proceeded with their plans to further weaken the land he swore himself to for selfish gain.

“Understandable.” Something flashed past Sebastian’s eyes. “My father always spoke highly of your work ethic.”

"Yes, well, Nick offered a great deal of wisdom for my research." Saul might have been the public face of the Unspeakables. Still, no one joined such a group without any academic interest. "His specialty complemented my own quite well."

“I would imagine so.” Sebastian nodded, as if thinking back. "Time was your area of expertise, if I'm not mistaken?"

“To a given degree, yes.” Saul’s lips curved slightly. “I dabble as much as I can within the laws, of course.”

“Of course.” Sebastian agreed with a glint of his own, and Croaker felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. "Tampering with the laws of reality can be quite dangerous."

"Precisely." Saul felt unnerved by the younger man's focused stare. "Nevertheless, it was a pleasure to run into you after all these years, but I should be on my way."

“Likewise, feel free to send a letter if you wish to catch up.” Sebastian stepped out of the way. “I hope you have a pleasant evening, Mr. Croaker.”

"I'll be sure to. And you as well." Saul turned to leave, but paused a few steps away as he looked up at the sky with a hardened gaze. "Sebastian."

Sebastian hadn’t moved, but his fingers twitched as if he was debating something before he answered. “Yes?”

“My department's diviners have predicted the weather is going to take a turn for the worse this summer.” Croaker’s voice was low, just barely reaching Sebastian's ears. "Sadly, they all seem to have come down with health-related issues, so the timing can't be confirmed."

A strange gleam flashed over Sebastian’s face. “Is that so?”

“Mn.” Saul didn’t turn back, heart heavy as he walked a tight line between oaths and what was right. “Have you considered traveling and seeing the world?”

"I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind." Sebastian admitted. "Plenty to see in the Americas."

“A wonderful destination choice.” Saul smiled softly. “Have a pleasant trip.”

Sebastian was silent for a long moment until his hand finally relaxed. “I will.”

"Oh, and Sebastian." Saul looked over his shoulder, having swapped his eye colors for bright lime green. "When you play with color-changing Charms for cosmetics, make sure not to forget to change them back. In some cases, the spell can confuse the body's biological processes."

Sebastian’s eyes widened as he took in the underlying message. "Thank you for the reminder.”

He casually removed his wand and tapped the side of his head as his red eye flickered back to blue.

Saul smiled brightly and nodded. “Until next time.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything more, but Saul felt the young man's eyes on him until he turned the block, where his smile fell away to reveal the panic beneath.

‘An Odd-eyed Hufflepuff who has a reason to be enraged? Sebastian is a dead ringer, but how could he be a threat? He’s not even twenty years old. And he never showed any talent before. Unless…’ Croaker’s breath hitched as he recalled someone else he had known since his Hogwarts years with a penchant for keeping secrets. ‘Nick… oh, you would be so proud.’

Saul had been a researcher and diplomat for nearly three decades. It was simple logic to put two and two together.

Mist gathered in his eyes before he blinked it away. ‘Take the hint, Sebastian. No amount of vengeance is worth throwing your life away for this. Not that my colleagues would let the matter rest.’

Even calling them colleagues in his mind felt disgusting.

A hint of the viciousness he kept bottled in his heart broke free as his thoughts went down another angle.

‘I have to act before one of them sniffs out Sebastian.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘I wouldn’t be able to face Nick in the afterlife if I let something happen to his son.’

Many things happened that fateful night almost a decade before, much more than Sebastian had any idea of, and more than Sebastian lost something precious in the flames that followed.

‘I never thought I’d find a reason to take this step.’ Saul’s eyes hardened with resolve that had been on edge all these years. ‘But I finally found one.’

The fire didn’t finish the job that night, and Saul was ready to give it that last push.

0000

Nicolas Flamel stared down at a table projecting three images.

Sebastian White. The Unspeakable Council under Bloodletter. And now Saul Croaker.

Three parties gathered their own plots, all for their own reasons, as the embers of a decade-old fire were stoked once more.

Who would come out on top was a question left to ask over the ashes that would follow.

The ancient alchemist grinned.

Chapter End.

 AN: Hope you enjoyed!

Stereotypes can’t hurt you if you don’t believe in them.

If you know what movie I got inspired from for that weapon disarming scene, you can sit by me at lunch time.

Sebastian and Neo will take any opportunity to flirt.

Negotiations are a fun back and forth.

Sebastian launches the next step of his 50-step master plan.

Neo has a ball of a time and makes Michelin Star pastry chefs sweat.

Neo also makes a friend, for better or worse of Rocco’s blood pressure.

Sebastian has a run in with an old acquaintance, sparking a new change.

And a certain Alchemist is getting ready for the big show.

See you next time!