Sebastian returned about an hour later, a grim expression on his face. He settled down next to Dracaena, Ominis curled in her lap as she stroked his hair softly.
"Well?" she asked.
"No good," he muttered. He reached over and poked Ominis, who stirred with a mutter. "Sorry mate, I tried, but they saw right through it. They know everything and want to talk to you. Now."
Ominis pushed himself to sit, leaning back against Dracaena. She wrapped her arms around his chest. "What kind of trouble should I expect?"
Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know... but they're pissed. I'd expect at least a week of detention and some docked house points, maybe more."
"I thought as much." Ominis shifted, climbing to his feet with a weary sigh. "I suppose I ought to face the music, as it were." He chuckled wryly. "It's almost a shame I can't rely on my family's name to protect me anymore."
Dracaena scrambled to stand. "But you were protecting me!" she said. "They can't fault you for that!"
Ominis shrugged. "I rather expect they most certainly can, considering I beat the little bastard senseless," he said. "I may have been a tad overzealous." He passed a soft smile in her direction. "Shall I meet you back here or in the Room?"
"The Room's closer," Sebastian said. "We'll wait there."
"I can go with you," Dracaena offered.
"I'd rather you didn't," Ominis said. "Contrition isn't a face I wear well, and I'd like to maintain some semblance of my dignity." He leaned in and brushed a chaste kiss over her cheek before striding out, his head down.
Dracaena glanced at Sebastian as the iron gate slammed shut, eyeing the set of his shoulders. "I get the feeling you're not telling me everything."
He gave her a look. "It's creepy when you read my mind like that."
"I'm not!"
He chuckled. "Well... alright. I thought I'd have a chance at twisting the story a bit, making it seem like Prewett did more than just spit a slur at you. Got my ear chewed off for it, because someone else got to Black first."
"Oh?" her eyes narrowed. "Who?"
Sebastian grimaced. "Don't tell Ominis," he said, and raised his hands as she glared. "Seriously. Don't. He'll flip."
Dracaena folded her arms and waited. Sebastian sighed.
"It was Duncan Hobhouse," he said. "Little shit saw it all and went running to tattle straight away. If Ominis finds out it was him, we'll be cleaning Hobhouse's guts off the ceiling for weeks, and we probably won't find his head."
Dracaena spat a curse. "Alright, I see what you mean. Just what is their feud all about, anyway?"
"Haven't a clue, he just hisses at me if I ask," Sebastian shrugged. "Come on, love. Let's get upstairs."
He took her hand and led her out, the pair of them walking through the bustling halls, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as possible. Unfortunately, they might as well have been imitating a pair of dancing suits of armour, for every eye was drawn to them instantly, and the students converged on them like flies to honey, gabbling questions and theories. But all Sebastian had to do was bare his teeth and brandish his wand, his arm around her, and the crowd backed off.
Reaching the Room, Dracaena began to pace, wringing her hands.
"I've got a terrible feeling that he might be in more trouble than just a detention or two," she muttered. "He really hurt Prewett. I'm glad he did, the little shit deserved it for just existing, but..." she turned, finding Sebastian leaning against a pillar, trying and failing to hide his concern with a grim smile. "Bassy. Will he be expelled?"
His eyes flickered to the side. "There's a chance, yeah." He hurried on as she drew a panicked breath. "But I told them what happened, how Prewett's been needling us for months, like when he dressed up as a dementor, made a point to insult you, I even threw in a few fibs as well to bolster it. I told them how he called you a mudblood, and just after you got attacked by supremacists! It made sense Ominis snapped, anyone else would have long ago. He'll be fine."
"I hope so," Dracaena said, sinking onto the sofa and clasping her hands. "No one deserves to be expelled just for a mistake."
Sebastian paused in his way over to her. "Yeah. I guess so."
When Dracaena didn't reply, he took a seat next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close, running his hand over her hair.
"He'll be alright," he murmured. "No matter what happens, he's got us, yeah?"
"Mm," Dracaena nodded, climbing into his lap and cuddling up. Sebastian sighed, wrapping his arms around her, leaning back. He continued stroking her hair, the motion soothing as she listened to his pulse flutter in his throat. But she could sense the tenseness in him in the way his feet were firmly planted on the floor, the way his jaw was clenched, the way his neck was rigid.
"Are you alright?" she whispered.
He nodded. "About as good as I can be, I guess. I just..." he held her closer. "I know I should be worried about Ominis. And I am, really, but..." he brushed his lips over her cheek. "I have to admit, it's nice just to be alone with you."
Dracaena nuzzled into him, and his arms tightened around her waist. "It is." She tilted her head, gazing up at him. "You are okay with all of this, aren't you? The three of us?"
He nodded slowly. "Of course I am, Drac. It makes you happy."
"But does it make you happy?"
He kissed her softly. "You do."
"You know that's not what I'm asking, Bassy. I know you get jealous. How are you dealing with it?"
He shrugged. "Just am."
"But you do get jealous."
"Well... yeah." He shifted, pulling her closer. "But he's my best friend, Drac. If I was going to trust anyone else in the world with you, it'd be him." He sighed. "That said, it's not exactly easy when you stick your tongue down his throat in front of everyone and all I get is a kiss on the cheek."
Dracaena tucked her head against his shoulder. "I can see that. But he needs the morale boost, don't you think? Especially with all he's going through with his family. He's still got trauma from being tortured, and to have it happen to me right in front of him..."
"That hurt me too," Sebastian murmured, winding his fingers through her hair, his grip on her tightening. "I never wanted to hear you scream like that again, Drac. I've never been so scared in my life."
She kissed his neck. "What would make you feel better about it? What can I do that would help?"
He sighed, his other hand resting on her hip. "Aside from the obvious?" he chuckled a little. "Just... I don't know. It's nice to feel needed. Wanted."
"I do need you," she whispered, raising a hand to his cheek and turning his face to hers. She met his eyes, soft and full of longing. "I always will, Bassy. You know I care about you."
His smile was small and sad. "I know. I guess I just need to appreciate moments like this when they happen. I just hope they're not too rare."
"I'll make sure of it." She kissed him gently, and he sighed against her lips. "Maybe we need some kind of rota?"
He made a face. "That doesn't sound like much fun."
"Well..." she shrugged. "I don't know, then. Let's wait for Ominis to come back, alright? We can talk about it then. I want to be fair to both of you."
He nodded, pulling her closer and nuzzling into her neck, his hand running over her back as time crawled by. And despite the love she felt for him, the comfort he gave her, resting safe in his arms, she couldn't help but stare at the door, watching. Waiting. Hoping.
"Have you had any more thoughts on helping Anne?" she murmured. Sebastian stirred.
"Nothing," he muttered. "Well, no, I've had lots of thoughts, but no idea where to even turn. I don't want to stray into anything Dark again. It's all promises and hope until it's too late, and there's always too big a price to pay once the rent comes due. But I don't know where else to look. I've exhausted everything, Drac, now we know that Rookwood won't tell us what he did, and your Keepers won't tell us how to take away pain."
She twisted her mouth. She still had to see them. She had to. She couldn't keep putting it off, like she had every other difficult thing. She should have learned from almost losing both of her best friends, her boyfriends that she needed to do the difficult things sooner rather than later. She sighed, raising a hand to wind through his thick, dark hair. He shuddered, leaning into her with a soft groan. "I don't know what to suggest, Bassy. I... don't know where to look if you don't."
He sighed, relaxing into her as she massaged his scalp, her nails lightly scratching. He mumbled something unintelligible, his hands tightening at her back. With a slight grin, she added her other hand to the mix, winding through his hair, listening as his breathing quickened, feeling it rush over her neck.
"D-do you think-" he began, biting off the end of the sentence as a low moan rose in his throat. "Do you think we have time to-?"
The door opened and Ominis returned, his expression carefully neutral. Dracaena bounded to her feet, leaving Sebastian to pitch forward, clutching the edge of the sofa with a muted curse.
"Ominis!" she reached for him as he approached, sliding his wand back up his sleeve. "Is everything alright?"
"Well, it could have been worse," Ominis said, tugging off his robes and loosening his tie before flopping to the sofa. "Fifty lost points, a fortnight's worth of detention and banned from Hogsmeade for a month."
"That's a bit over the top," Dracaena said, snuggling up to him immediately. "You only knocked out a few teeth. Blainey would have put him back together in a heartbeat."
Ominis shrugged, his hand resting on her back. "I expect Black's reasoning was twofold. One, he sees very little harm in the slur Prewett used, and two, he's aware of the situation with my family. I rather feel they asked him to expel me at the first opportunity, as that's what he seemed to be building up to before Professor Weasley stepped in. Thank you, Sebastian, by the way. Your intervention certainly helped." He shifted uncomfortably, and Dracaena cuddled closer. "That's not the worst of it, though."
"Worse than fifty points, detention and a Hogsmeade ban?" Sebastian said, crossing a leg over the other and resting a hand on Dracaena's arse. "What, you got to apologise to Prewett or something?"
Ominis grimaced. "Yes," he said. "Publicly."
Sebastian winced. "Ouch. I thought they outlawed cruel and unnecessary punishment?"
Ominis managed a smile. "Yes, well. I'm sure I could think of a way to circumvent their wants, though it might land me in more trouble."
"You mean a non-apology, cleverly disguised as a sincere one?" Dracaena giggled. "If anyone could do that, you could."
Ominis grinned. "You know... I think you might be onto something, dove."
Sebastian chuckled. "Careful, Drac. He's got a silver tongue, you know."
"I know," she purred, and Ominis went pink. She reached back and found Sebastian's hand, winking at him. "I'm sure you do too."
He chuckled again, the sound a little strained. "Should I leave you two alone?"
"Nah," she said, wriggling on the sofa and tugging him down. "I like being here with you both."
He slid his arms around her waist, cuddling into her chest with a sigh.
"When do you need to apologise to Prewett?" Dracaena asked, her head in Ominis' lap, closing her eyes as his thumb brushed over her cheek.
"Tomorrow morning, at breakfast," Ominis said, a smirk playing about his lips. "I rather think they're hoping I can't wriggle my way out of it if it's so soon."
"They don't know you well at all then," Sebastian murmured, his voice muffled as he spoke into her breasts. "Can't wait to see what you come up with."
Ominis chuckled. "I'll go easy on him. Don't want any more trouble now, do I?"
.-~*~-.
The Great Hall hummed with voices as the trio made their way to the Slytherin table. It was still early, and as such, there weren't that many students present. Ominis loosed a slow breath, his fingers laced tightly with Dracaena's. She nudged a few rounds of toast his way, but he shook his head, sipping steadily at a cup of strong tea instead. Sebastian drummed his fingers on her thigh, glancing over at the teacher's table every other minute or so as the Great Hall slowly filled.
"Weasley's coming over," he murmured to them. "Mate, I get the feeling it's time."
"Marvellous," Ominis said, smoothing back his hair. "Wish me luck."
"Break a leg," Sebastian said, and Dracaena elbowed him. "What? It's meant to be better luck than actually saying good luck!"
They watched as Professor Weasley escorted Ominis over to the Gryffindor table, and the murmuring chatter began to die down as the students realised something was afoot.
Ominis waited until the Hall was almost silent, his head tilted, his expression neutral. He drew a breath.
"Leander," Ominis said gravely, his voice soft, yet carrying. "I have been asked by Professor Black to apologise to you, unreservedly, honestly, and wholeheartedly."
He paused as Prewett looked him up and down, folding his arms, a sneer on his face, no sign of injury on him whatsoever. Madam Blainey had done a good job.
"Go on then," he spat.
Ominis smiled. It wasn't his usual reserved smile, not at all. It was bright and wide, showing far too many teeth. Garreth edged away.
"Thank you for your undivided attention," he said, raising his voice. "Leander, I apologise for the altercation that took place between us. I offer no excuses for my behaviour, only a deep regret for resorting to the violence that knocked the teeth from your jaw."
Prewett's eye twitched a little, but he pursed his lips and continued listening as Ominis paused, tilting his head as every face in the Great Hall turned to him.
"I have every intention of apologising properly to you, Leander, but in order to, I must provide a little background so that those around us can fully understand the gravity of my actions."
Dracaena fought a grin as Sebastian leaned forward, clasping her hand.
"Oh, this is going to be magnificent," he murmured.
"Leander, you are truly a remarkable person," Ominis continued, raising his head and spreading his hands. To anyone else, the gesture would have appeared supplicating, but Dracaena knew better. He was setting a trap, and by Prewett's gormless expression, he was stumbling right into it.
"You have a truly unique approach to interpersonal relationships," Ominis said. "Your unwavering dedication to your preferences and beliefs would make Gryffindor proud, I'm sure."
A light murmur ran through the Hall as Prewett straightened, smirking, his chest puffing out.
"Though I must confess your hatred for Slytherins perplexes me, I admire the dedication with which you hold on to such bias," Ominis continued. "But I haven't even begun on your remarkable wit and penchant for diabolical pranks, like when you deliberately dressed up as a dementor to torment my best friend, with full knowledge of what he suffered in Azkaban. Not everyone can maintain such an air of superiority whilst undermining others. It's truly an art."
He paused again as Dracaena hid a grin behind her hand and Sebastian raised a brow, staring at Prewett, who had gone a little pink. Beside him, Garreth shifted, his head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
"That's not to mention your dedication to your own abilities," Ominis continued, still smiling widely. "Why, you speak with such conviction about your prowess, though I'll admit I'm yet to experience any action that supports them, I'm sure that'll come in time. It truly takes a unique person to stand on such a pedestal and proclaim their greatness without ever stepping off it. I am in awe of you."
A few light chuckles murmured through the Hall, and Dracaena tightened her grip on Sebastian's hand.
"Do you think he's going too far?" she whispered.
"Not a bit of it," he replied. "Just watch."
Ominis straightened. "And then there's your appreciation for your heritage, something I find myself inherently envious of. Your pride in being a pureblood wizard. Pride indeed to the point in which you decided to call the Hero of Hogwarts a mudblood, mere days after she was tortured by other supremacists."
Prewett went purple, and a hush fell over the Hall as Ominis' smile faded, his sightless eyes seemingly locked on the unfortunate redhead before him.
"But we all have our quirks, don't we?" Ominis said, his soft voice still somehow carrying. "I hope you, and all those present, will accept my apology for brutalising you because of that last remark, Leander. My behaviour was abhorrent, and I hope to learn from you. I have found a new appreciation for your talents in my contemplation of my actions. Thank you for reminding me of the various shades of human nature."
Ominis dipped into a flourishing bow, then spun, his back straight, striding back to where Dracaena and Sebastian sat. A low buzzing began in the Hall, and Sebastian grinned, beginning to clap. The clap was echoed by Dracaena, then by Imelda, who also whistled, rising from the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables as Natty, Poppy ana Amit joined in, applause growing through the hall as Prewett clenched his fists on the table, glaring in open fury at the trio as Ominis joined them at last.
"Think I got away with it?" he asked, quietly.
"I bloody well hope so," Dracaena leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "That was amazing! I have the utmost respect for the sheer magnitude of fury that was required to craft that artisan level of bitchery."
Ominis chuckled. "I'm pleased you liked it, dove. Though by the rapidly approaching, uneven, angry sounding footsteps, I get the feeling I might be in more trouble with our Head of House."
They turned as Sharp limped up to them, a scowl squatting on his scarred brow. He reached them, towering over them, his eyes fixed on Ominis as he calmly sipped his tea.
"Can I help you sir?" Ominis asked, eventually.
Sharp's lips twisted, and Dracaena's brows rose as the corners of his mouth seemed to twitch. Was Sharp supressing a laugh, of all things?
"You little shit," he muttered. "Don't do that again. Another day's detention and fifteen points to Slytherin for the sheer bloody audacity."
He glanced at Dracaena. "I'm glad you're better," he muttered, so softly she almost missed it, then he stalked away, leaving the trio to gape at each other a moment. Sebastian laughed, clapping Ominis on the shoulder.
"There's a first!" he chuckled. "I've never heard Sharp curse before! I thought he was going to give you another week of detention."
Ominis shrugged, grinning. "So did I. Though I rather expect many of the Professors felt a similar way to I when Prewett said what he did. They're all rather fond of our Dracaena."
She chuckled, gazing at him. Her hand found his thigh under the table, and she grinned as he covered it with his own.
After breakfast, Sebastian hurried off to his Ancient Runes class, and Dracaena smirked, sliding a hand around Ominis' waist as they headed to the Room.
"You know," she said. "There's something to be said for a man who can craft true magic with mere words."
"I think they call them wizards," Ominis replied, dryly. Dracaena chuckled, pulling him close as the door to the Room revealed itself.
"Take a compliment when it's given," she advised. "I really liked what you said, earlier."
"Which bit?" Ominis' smile was sly.
"All of it," she purred, slipping a hand around his neck and tugging him down to kiss her. "I'd quite like to show you how much I enjoyed how clever you can be."
His throat bobbed. "Is that right?"
She grinned, leading him to the sofa. "Of course, darling. We've got a couple of hours."
The tip of his tongue slid out, capturing his lower lip and drawing it between his teeth. "What if Sebastian's class is cancelled again?"
Dracaena pushed him to sit, kneeling before him as his hands slid to her arms. "I wouldn't worry about that, dear. Unless you'd rather I didn't?"
His grip tightened as his throat bobbed. "I don't know what you're offering, dove."
She chuckled softly, lowering her hands to his thighs, gently easing them apart, and his breath caught. "Is there anything you want?"
She had the pleasure of watching his chest begin to expand and contract with increasingly rapid breaths. "Just you," he whispered.
"Good," she replied, sliding her hands to his belt, easing the leather through the metal loop. She slowly pried apart the button, finding the zip and lowering it, taking her time, her eyes locked on his face, savouring the sweet longing there, the desperate restraint unravelling as she grazed her fingers over the steadily growing length of steel hidden from her sight.
But not for long.
She drew him out slowly, taking the time to admire the length of him, the graceful blue veins coyly weaving along him, his pale skin steadily darkening to a lush pink as she took him in, her fingers sliding around the hilt and stroking slowly.
Ominis tilted his head back, groaning softly, his grip on her arms increasing as he slid forward.
"Tell me what you want, my prince," she purred, watching as he shifted, edging closer to her.
"Just you," he repeated, breathlessly. "Nothing else, dove. Just you."
"And what do you want me to do?" she asked, leaning just close enough that her breath rushed over him, her hand rising glacially along his length, resting in the middle, each movement slow and calculated.
He whimpered softly, his jaw tightening. "Dracaena... please, don't make me ask for it."
"How do I know what you want otherwise?" she murmured, shuffling a little closer, her lips barely an inch from the head of him, her eyes locked on his face as he squirmed, his hands falling to the cushions, his white-knuckle grip rending deep gouges in the fabric. "Tell me, darling, and I'll give you all you want and more."
"You're cruel," he whimpered, sliding forward again, the head of his beautiful cock bumping against her lips, and she pulled back, just a touch, drawing another low groan from him. "You know what I want, dove."
"And I want to hear you say it," she crooned, flicking the tip of her tongue over him, and he gasped, his hips flexing.
"I... Merlin, Dracaena..." his hands rose to grip the cushions behind his head. "Please, dove."
She waited, holding him loosely, sliding her fingers along him only the smallest amount, letting her breath warm him from only inches away, and Ominis' back arched, a deep moan rising through his chest.
"Merlin, just... just put it in your mouth, please," he groaned.
Her grin was wicked. "Good boy," she murmured, leaning forward and running her tongue over him, taking care to swirl it over the tip before drawing him deep into her mouth.
Ominis hissed a sharp breath, the air maturing to a full-bodied moan as she lowered her head, drawing him deeper into her throat, rising to meet her. She shifted, tucking her arms under his hips and pulling his legs over her shoulders as she attended him, taking her time to rise and fall, her lips sealed tight against his taut flesh, listening intently as he whimpered, pushing his head back against the sofa.
"Merlin, Dracaena..." he gasped, barely able to get the words out, his head tilting to the side as she licked slowly along him, flattening her tongue against the underside of his head, and he shivered.
She hummed lightly, and he groaned, his hips flexing, his hands falling to her hair, winding his fingers through. He drew a sharp breath and moaned louder as she hollowed her cheeks and sucked, still pressing her tongue to him, winding it around him as he writhed, a flush blooming over his chest and flowing up his throat to his face, his expression one of complete and total bliss.
"Merlin, Dracaena, you're incredible," he whispered. The grip at the back of her head tightened, and she knew what he needed, bobbing her head faster as he gasped, beginning to squirm under her ministrations, focusing her attention at the head of him, a subtle salty sweetness beginning to coat her tongue. She sighed happily, tightening her lips around him, and he yelped.
"F-fuck, dove, don't stop, please!"
She obeyed, her fingers digging into his hips as he writhed, his squirms becoming steady, deliberate thrusts as his legs fell apart to rest on her arms, his soft gasps and groans becoming fuller moans and yelps as she focused on maintaining her rhythm, each delicious throb of his cock against her lips sending a thrill through her as his body began to tense, his thighs quivering, his hips rising off the seat as she took him all the way into her mouth.
Ominis yelled, throwing his head back as his hips spasmed up. Dracaena tightened her grip, swallowing, draining him as his yelps and shouts devolved into soft whimpers, his jerking motions growing softer with his voice, and she drew back, slowly, carefully, before gliding along his body to curl up beside him, sliding her arms around him and pulling him to her.
"My Prince of Snakes," she murmured, as he slumped against her. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. I love you."
He chuckled softly, his hand sliding to her hip as he turned, brushing his lips over her jaw.
"My turn," he growled.
.-~*~-.
Dracaena woke in the dead of night to a racing heart and a sense of inexplicable dread. She lay perfectly still, panting, her heart flinging itself against her ribs as she stared around in the darkness, trying to make sense of where she was, the ghost of agony crawling under her skin. It took a moment to remember she was in her dorm, Imelda's soft snores drifting over from beyond her curtains.
Drawing a breath, Dracaena pulled the hangings apart and set her feet on the floor, holding her head in her hands.
Her nightmare had been vivid and unrelenting. An unending storm of torture, cast again and again and again as she screamed and tried to run, her legs encased in lead, unable to reach her two loves, her Sebastian and Ominis as they suffered the same, tortured by faceless enemies. She had been helpless and small, powerless against the agony she and hers had suffered.
Just a nightmare.
She shivered, her hands in her hair, her elbows on her knees.
It was just a nightmare, nothing more.
It wasn't real.
But it would keep her from sleeping soundly until dawn, all the same.
She let loose a slow, controlled breath. If she wouldn't sleep, she ought to do something productive. Homework, perhaps, because god knew she was behind enough as it was. But it held no appeal, not when there was so much else at stake.
A walk, perhaps? It wouldn't be the first time she'd stalked the corridors and halls of Hogwarts, alone and seeking some kind of redemption, some kind of answer.
No. She needed a purpose. Something that had been eating away at the back of her mind for months now. Something she'd promised, and had yet to deliver.
She had to see the Keepers.
She got to her feet, dressing as quietly as she could. She knew they'd be worse than useless. She knew they'd never tell her how to take away pain. She knew they'd never tell her how to help Anne. But she had to try. Dracaena slipped to the door and crept out. For her Bassy, she had to try.
The journey to the Map Chamber was silent and slow, pausing at every corner to check for prefects and ghosts, her disillusionment strong, her nerve wavering. But she forced her feet to move, her steps to continue. It had been almost two years since she'd seen them last, save the brief trip to Black's office when she helped Sebastian. She'd avoided looking at Niamh Fitzgerald's portrait then. Could she hope she'd been granted the same courtesy in return?
Perhaps not. She didn't know what she was walking into, but something within her told her she was not prepared. She was not ready. She'd never be ready for what she was about to face. But she had to face it, whatever it was. Whatever their ire, whatever their scorn, she had to try.
She reached the pale stone rotunda, the hidden staircase sinking into the ground as she approached. She followed the steps, hugging herself, wondering what excuses she could give, what excuses she should give once she stood before the portraits again. Would they even see her, after she hidden for so long? Would they stand and listen to her entreaties, would they even show? And what would she say if they did?
She didn't know. Her mind refused to string words together, refused to provide her with ideas to help her in her quest. All she knew is she was headed down, down to the Map Chamber, down to what she had vowed to leave behind.
With only a moment to breathe as she strode the corridor, she steeled herself, pushed the doors wide, and stormed inside.
Dracaena stared up at the immense portraits, each of the Keepers already present, smiling down at her as she approached. But her gaze was drawn to a fifth portrait, the frame shining and new, empty of its occupant.
"Welcome back, Dracaena," Percival Rackham said, smiling down at her. "We've been wondering when we'd see you again."
"We're glad to see you looking so well," Charles Rookwood said. "Though a little saddened it's taken you so long to come back."
"I've been busy," Dracaena managed. "I'm sorry."
"You're here now," Niamh Fitzgerald said, her Irish burr gentle. "All five of us have been looking forward to this day."
"Five?" Dracaena said, eyeing the last portrait. "There were only four of you before."
"That was before," San Bakar said, with a knowing smile. "But after the events of the Battle for the Repository, and some truly heroic actions, we felt a certain additional place amongst our ranks was in order."
He gestured, and Dracaena stared as the occupant of the fifth portrait stepped into view, her breath catching in her throat, his form blurring as her eyes flooded with tears. He was dressed as he always had been, in his light blue robe, his scarf wrapped around his shoulders, his flyaway silver hair swept back from a widow's peak. The corners of his lips lifted in a gentle, welcoming smile, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners.
"Hello again, my girl," Professor Fig said. "I have to say... I have missed you dearly."