Ryland Greengrass

Ryland raced to the elevators once inside. It felt like a terrible plan, but if the Ministry had stairs, he'd never used them. He hadn't spent much time here at all. He'd occasionally visited friends at work or come for a Gringotts collaboration, but Ryland had very few instincts to fall back on in this situation. He had to try, though. Perhaps because of his background with security, Ryland's first thought had been the Department of Mysteries and some of the weapons it possessed. If Death Eaters got their hands on those, it would be all over.

Somehow Ryland secured a lift by himself and headed down. He gripped his wand tightly, not know what he'd find at the bottom. When the doors opened to reveal a masked figure, they seemed as surprised as Ryland. Still with Bran barking orders in his head, Ryland called out a stunning spell. It hit, and even better, it worked! Ryland knew it wouldn't hold them long, so he lifted the figure under their arms and dragged them back into the lift. That could be someone else's problem.

It didn’t take long for them to be seated at the table with their food. It smelled good and he was excited to dig in. It felt a little more awkward than it normally did between them if he was honest with himself but it had been awhile since they had seen each other. Nervous energy wasn’t uncommon when it came to getting used to someone again. He moved his food around his plate a bit in between taking bites. He was happy to be spending a relaxing evening with Ryland but he did want to push just a bit to see where his thoughts were from the last time they had seen each other. He wouldn’t though unless Ryland opened that conversation first. 

He smiled over at Pippin when Ryland brought the little kitten up. He loved him so much even if he didn’t have as much time for him lately. “I think you’ve been doing great with him. He looks so happy and healthy. I really appreciate you helping me with him. I feel bad that I can’t have him home all the time but he would get into things that aren’t good for him when I’m working.” He tilted his head as he took a sip of his wine. “How has work been going for you? Have you been enjoying it?” He thought Ryland had an interesting job and it sounded like something he would like himself if he hadn’t gotten into the business of dark objects. 

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Ryland followed Gideon’s gaze over to the feline flopped down near them. “I’ve never really had a pet,” he admitted. “Sure, there have been family owls, and I used to keep one here at the house, but that’s not quite the same, is it? Owls have personalities, of course, and they can be kind. But they’re not beasts you can cuddle. They serve a purpose. I’ve taken care of owls, but I’ve never had a pet you can coexist with, not the way you can a cat. It’s new for me. I must admit I’m growing quite fond of Pippin and having one around, though.”

Although Ryland wanted to keep up the positivity, he could only sigh at the mention of work. “I miss it.” He kept his head down for a moment, focusing on his food and trying to put what he meant into words. “I’d worked so hard to get the cursebreaking position, you know? Everyone kept telling me that if I couldn’t do the practical testing, they’d never transfer me to it. Then I got the position, and I was good at it. Now doing routine vault security planning... I miss the challenge. I miss feeling like I was undoing a puzzle to figure out how it worked instead of throwing some pieces together based on what each person wants.” He shrugged. “It’s fine, and I’m good at it. I just miss what I had before... Before.”

“Have you met my mother? Or any pureblood mother? You know how they are. I’m a woman so I don’t have as many rights as a male does in pureblood society. I’m basically considered worthless if I’m not planning parties and popping out children. My father is pushing her to push me though I think. He’s rather annoyed with me about the whole thing. Not that I care really. I’ve never pleased him.” She smiled returning the small hug. 

“If I never have children though. Is that okay? Do you think that’s okay?” She wanted a child someday. If she lived through the war. If the war ever ended. She wanted that but she just didn’t want everything that involved having a child. “I would love to learn anything you can teach me. I’ve never been very good in the kitchen and wouldn’t it be fun to surprise some friends with a meal that I cooked myself? I think people would faint from shock. I think you’re doing a splendid job with this by the way, I’ve restarted this one ten times if I’m honest with you.”

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Ryland nodded. He didn’t really have much to add. He’d been the worthless cousin anyway, but he knew things were different for the girls. As far as he knew, Cora had it a bit easier than Isla, but he couldn’t speak for her experiences. They weren’t his own. Plus, when he thought about his family, Maisey had seemed happy to marry Ewan, but they’d been Hogwarts sweethearts. Had Delilah been so pleased when she’d realized Lachlan had been chosen as her intended? With a sharp pang, he thought of his own sister. She’d died far too young to worry of such things, but even as a halfblood, would she have become some trophy trinket for a good match? Ryland couldn’t let himself dwell on it.

He cleared his throat, especially since he knew Isla needed him in the here and now. Ryland had never heard her suggest that kind of thing before, and he wondered how new the thought was. “Whether you have kids or not in your choice,” he said, hoping for firm confidence to quell her obvious doubts. “Yeah, I suppose your husband technically has some say, but his doesn’t override yours. If you don’t want kids, you don’t have to.”

The knitting felt a bit silly when they were focused on other things, and momentarily Ryland gave up. He set down the needles and tried to smile at the idea of Isla cooking and cooking well. “You’d have to let the house elf go,” he joked. “Then you’d really learn. Sink or swim after all.” Then again, the house elf meant a second chance when she messed things up. Probably a good idea.

There was a very distinct line between worry and pity, and as he was swept away by the former, it didn’t even cross Dedalus’ mind that it might come across as the latter. He tensed up, half-ready to stand up and rush to Ryland’s side, as if the table between them was the issue. As if there was anything he could do. “Are you alright? Do you need us to go? We can go.” His wide were wide in his earnestness and his mind was already running ahead with the different possibilities of where else they could go. It wasn’t an easy task, especially since he didn’t know if this was because of the place itself, or its smaller size, or the people, or even something else. But Ryland’s comfort was a priority and right about now, he most certainly didn’t seem very comfortable.

Dedalus watched him, unconvinced, as he ordered and tried to move the conversation along. Perhaps this had been a bad idea, mentioning it to him. Clearly he already had much on his plate. Which wasn’t news, of course, but perhaps Dedalus had underestimated just how much. “Yes,” he confirmed, hesitating for a moment before continuing. “Hestia Jones. And like I said, she’s very clever and bright so I believe we can absolutely figure it out, between the two of us. Don’t feel any pressure whatsoever to waste your time or energy on this.” The more Ryland spoke though, the more clear it became this wasn’t entirely true. His insight was already very helpful. “I didn’t think of the regulations,” Dedalus admitted. “Well, no, I did, of course, but I didn’t think they’d truly be an issue. After all, I’m not going to be mimicking the exact spells and enchantments that make a portkey a portkey. Or rather, I assume I won’t be. I mean, there has to be a reason portkeys aren’t activated by a set command, right? If that was already feasible, someone would’ve done it, surely.” The mere idea that people might’ve already thought of that and found it not to be useful was inconceivable to him. “Ideally, it would be a few locations, yes. Mostly, it would be a way to… get out of unexpected trouble, if you understand my meaning. One wouldn’t have to worry about apparating or anything of the sort, they would have to say the command and immediately be transported to a safe haven.”

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“No!” Ryland said quickly, looking down at his lap. His face burned, but he was breathing a little more evenly. Which was worse? To have this moment in public or to have it in front of a friend who hadn’t noticed how broken he was feeling yet? “I mean... Sorry. I just... No, we don’t need to go anywhere. We’re good. I’m good.” He wasn’t, but he could be, for lunch. Ryland cleared his throat and finally looked up. “I- Thank you.” 

He didn’t want to explain, so he focused on Dedalus’ pitch instead. Ryland had heard Hestia did good work. Plus, if she came at this from different angles than Ryland, they could hopefully have a greater chance of a break through. “No no,” he said, these no’s far different than the last set had been. “I don’t consider my time and energy above anything of the like. It’s a good challenge and a bloody useful one if we can figure it out. Hmmm... I wonder if Helandria’s apparation theories would be useful. It’s not apparation obviously, but if we can pin down most distinctly the differences in types of transportation magic and find a way to bridge them... Yes, that could be possible.” Ryland flipped over his napkin and slipped a quill from his bag. Glad he’d finally replaced the self-inking one that had dried up while he’d been away, Ryland began scribbling down the various half-thoughts and ideas floating through his mind. “It would need to be quick then,” Ryland said, glancing back up at Dedalus. “Preferably self-starting too. If it requires a wand and incantations, then you’ve lost the benefit of a speedy exit.” And lately that seemed only too useful. “I don’t know where we start exactly, but perhaps we could figure out a prototype. If we can get it working, then we could simplify the spellwork, get it self-starting. I’ve found with wards and such, sometimes it’s easier to figure out everything, then figure out how to get it down to a useful set of steps. Harder for others to replicate then too.”

Gideon wanted to ask Ryland about the last time they had seen each other. If he still needed time and space or if maybe he had come up with an answer. He was afraid to though. Afraid to bring it up and get an answer that he wouldn’t want to hear. He thought it best to let Ryland bring it up in his own time or if he didn’t bring it up at all to just move on and pretend it hadn’t happened. It had been a month after all and Ryland had made no move to discuss it. 

He moved to check on the chicken noting that it was done and took it out bringing it over to Ryland so that he could finish it since most of the food seemed to be done. “It’s done. Is there anything else that had to be done before we eat?” He didn’t want to sound pushy but he couldn’t help the hunger that had been growing in him ever since he had stepped in the door and been greeted by the wonderful smell. 

He moved to take two plates out and some silverware so he could set the table. It felt good to be back in a familiar flow with Ryland. No matter how much time they spent apart they always seemed to be able to pick back up in a natural rhythm. “What kind of sauce did you make? 

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Ryland shook his head. “I don’t think so. Here, I’ll finish this up. You get plates and such on the table. Sound good?” Gideon was already moving before he’d finished saying it, so Ryland focused on the food. Ryland did as he’d said and brought it toward the table. “Nothing special,” he admitted, ducking his head. “Just a garlic sauce I make at home sometimes. I figured what worked well for one would work well for two.”

He cleared his throat, trying not to feel awkward as he sat down at the table. This wasn’t any different than any other meal he and Gideon had shared as friends. It couldn’t be. What had happened last time... Well, Ryland didn’t want that to change moments like this. Their friendship was long enough to handle whatever feelings had come up. It had to be.

“I think Pippin missed you,” he said, figuring the cat was a good conversation focus. It was safe. It was something that Gideon cared about, and this dinner would be much easier if Ryland could focus on those feelings instead of any other pesky ones that had come up. He’d almost talked through his realizations about men with Isla, but he hadn’t been able to handle the idea of it. She’d want to know the how and the why, and she’d never let him live it down. Now Ryland just had to figure out how much of his current mess of emotions was Gideon and how much of it was kissing-a-man-who-just-happened-to-be-Gideon.

Severus maintained a relaxed and casual posture, seemingly oblivious to the wary distrust in the other man’s eyes. It was good, of course, as Severus was hard pressed to extend this offer to a naive and trusting soul. Trust will come later. But first he must agree.

Eyebrow raised pityingly as the other man jumped back. Mind reading. Really. If Eileen Snape were alive to hear those words from the other man’s mouth she’d have whipped his backside raw. But Severus was not as desperate to teach the stranger as his mother was to teach him, and so he only shook his head and rolled his eyes heavenward with a sigh. ‘ No. You’re thinking about something else. Occlumency is the art of mind protection,’ he emphasized, ‘ keeping your mind your own. Keeping it safe. From intruders, yes, but from itself as well.’ He turned his head towards the other man. Gaze locked on his like the barrel end of a gun. For the first time since entering the room, Greengrass had the full weight of his attention. ‘ Organize your mind, ’ he said. ‘ Put the memories in boxes. Hide the boxes in corners, in shadows, behind smoke and mazes. Keep your mind safe. And then you can sleep. ’ He let the moment linger. A taut silence stretched on as he looked at the broken man before he looked away.

He dragged his palm down the front of his robes gradually. Eyes followed it’s trail over the fabric, climbed towards the cabinet across from him, seemingly aimless. Then, quietly and without emphasis, he made the offer. ‘ I can teach you. ’ Once. The offer will be made once. Then he can throw his hands up at the persistent guilt and say, see? I tried! Can’t say I didn’t!

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Ryland hadn’t realized mind reading and mind shielding had different names. It made sense, he supposed. They were different skills. But as Severus explained them, Ryland found himself hardly breathing as he thought about it. From itself as well. Not letting unbidden thoughts rise to the surface, not letting them control you. Sleeping because the thoughts were kept at bay, organized away where he’d never have to look at them unless he wanted to. Oh, that was a tempting thought. 

Ryland jerked his head up, meeting Severus’ eyes fully as he took in the offer. “Why me?” he asked without meaning to. Ryland flushed. He hadn’t meant to let his inadequacies shine so visibly on display, but there they were. “I mean... I assume it’s a lot of time and practice. Surely you have better things to do be doing than trying to help me.” 

With a moment of breathing to realize it sounded like he was dismissing the offer, Ryland nodded. Best make his feelings clear, even if he was confused about the mechanics of it. “I’d like that, though. I wouldn’t need anymore of this then.” He gestured with the vial of sleeping potion and slipped it into his pocket. He wouldn’t need it if they were successful, but Ryland definitely still needed it now. He wasn’t going to pretend otherwise by giving it back unless Severus asked.

The month was almost over, and yet it felt like it had dragged on for nearly four months at this point. Cora had been doing her best to keep up with everything, and she’d been polite and not trying to push Ryland or upset him in anyway; much like most of the other Order members, she was just trying to get along and do what needed to be done. And, as happy as she was to fully be in the Order, she was also feeling rather exhausted, especially after what had happened at Diagon Alley. But she’d survived, and that was the most important thing, wasn’t it? She’d survived and proved herself.

When she received the letter from Rylan, she was surprised, but gratefully so and returned a letter of acceptance quickly. Seeing that he wanted her to come visit, especially at the place he must feel safest, it was a big deal, and she was going to treat it as such. She’d told her mother when asked that she was off to visit someone for an opportunity at work, and had just received praise at how hard working she was lately. Cora had smiled softly, though didn’t reply. She’d instead walked out of the house, deciding apperation would be best to get there. Taking a deep breath, she made her way up the walk and knocked on the door, still a little nervous, but feeling more hopeful again.

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Ryland nearly dropped the plate of sandwiches he was in the process of moving to the parlor, but he managed to keep them in hand. After taking them to their destination, he hurried to the door. “Cora,” he said by way of greeting as he stepped aside to let her in. It shouldn’t feel this awkward to allow in a family member, but Ryland had hardly had any guests at all lately. He didn’t think anyone from his family had been there since at least midsummer. Even before their betrayal, he hadn’t exactly been the type to play host.

“Can I take your coat?” he asked, defaulting back to those settings he’d grown up with. “Everything’s on the table in the parlor if you’d like to head that way. I just need to pop back in the kitchen and get the tea.” Well, start the tea. She didn’t need to know he planned on boiling water the muggle way. He wouldn’t lie if she asked, but Ryland had realized long ago that wasn’t the kind of information to make public knowledge.

Even though he’d been the one who’d complained about busy mornings in the first place, as soon as the idea of actually having one crossed his mind, Dedalus realised he found it incredibly unappealing. There was so much he wanted to do, needed to, even, and wasting an entire morning on lazing around sounded almost depressingly boring. “A lazy Monday, now that’s new! I was under the impression Mondays are contractually obligated to be as busy and intense as possible. Then again, a change of pace can’t hurt, can it?”

He was awfully indecisive when it came to this type of small, everyday decisions, however, and as his eyes kept darting back and forth between two different starters, he barely even heard Ryland’s question. “Alright!” He finally snapped the menu shut, resolute. “Sorry, what was that? Oh, yes, I decided to try something new, after all. What about you?” Though it seemed he would find out soon enough, as the waiter arrived. “Hi, hello, how do you do? Could I have the chilled beet soup, please? And I’ll have to think some more about the main dish if that’s alright. Thank you very much!”

He waited for a few moments for Ryland himself to order and for the waiter to leave before speaking again. “Now that this is done, I actually have a question. Well, a couple of questions, really, and I imagine there might be some follow-ups as well, but you understand what I mean. But I digress. I’m working on a new project, trying to improve my watch a little bit. The idea is that I would add some sort of an enchantment that would make it function as a Portkey, essentially. Except better; the goal is for it to be activated by voice command or a gesture of some sort. And Hestia offered to look into the theory of making this possible – do you know Hestia? She’s really nice and very smart – but I also wanted to ask for your opinion as well.”

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Ryland laughed. “You’re probably right. I can’t say when I thought I had one last honestly.” Well. Well. The laughter slipped away as other memories welled up and threaten to overwhelm him. He couldn’t do this. Not here. Not now. Not with Dedalus who treated him miraculously normal. He thought back to what Severus had explained, about neat mental boxes and walls, rooms whose doors could be locked. Ryland didn’t have those doors, but the idea that someday he could helped make it feel lighter. He closed his eyes a moment to count for himself. When he got to ten, he released a breath and looked up, hoping he hadn’t scared Dedalus away. The thoughts were slipping away, still there but at least not front and center. He’d have to tread lightly to keep them from returning.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, zoning back in in time to order. “The chicken one,” he said, not quite remembering the full name or what was in it already. Ryland shook his head a bit, trying to knock himself back to focus. He could do this. He could have a normal day.

He cleared his throat and tried to focus on the idea that Dedalus was pitching. “Jones, right?” Ryland didn’t know her particularly well, but he knew of her. She seemed nice enough. “It does sound like an interesting puzzle. Hmmm, the real question is whether you can make portkey magic programmable on the spot without needing to do all the spells and plans that the Ministry office does every time. I think the complication of it is what makes it so heavily regulated. But if you could find some way to box it in, maybe wards, maybe shields, and then all you’d have to do was take those down and set the time so to speak. Are you hoping for an anywhere watching or just between a few locations. That would also probably impact the magic and how much you’d have to do at the time.” He set his head on his hands, considering the watch and its potential. “Not an easy puzzle,” Ryland admitted, but perhaps that was good on a day like today.

Gideon didn’t want to talk about why he had stopped baking. He just couldn’t bring himself to spend that time in the kitchen when he could be spending the time researching and trying to solve the problems that were the dark objects that the Order had found. He hated having them in his life. He knew it was necessary that he work on them but still it left him feeling drained. Or rather the necklace left him feeling this way. The orb was dark enough but he had never felt so much darkness as he did when he was around the horcrux. He was desperate to find a way to destroy it and rid himself of it’s presence. “Your presence helps. I’ve had a lot on my mind. I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s alright?” 

“I’m glad you’ve been in those classes. I’ve been having Sirius teach me a bit outside of the classes that Caradoc has set up but I think the idea of them is good. I’m happy that you’re improving. I get nervous when things get dangerous and you might be involved. I would like to see your shield charm in action someday.” He moved closer to look at the sauce that Ryland was making. Dinner smelled good and it made him think of how often he forgot to eat lately. “Is there anything I can do to help with the cooking? I don’t want to just stand here and watch you do all the work.” He hated having idle hands and thought that some cooking would take his mind off of things. 

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Ryland smiled, glad he could do something, even if he didn’t really know how being around helped. Maybe Gideon just wasn’t getting much people time right now. Ryland could understand it. This was perhaps his chance to help repay Gideon for all the times he’d stopped and helped Ryland get out of his own head. If he could help Gideon out of his, he’d do that. “That’s all right,” he said. “I’m here regardless.”

As Gideon moved closer, Ryland stood still but tried to be casual about it as he remembered the last time they’d actually been this close. Had it really been a month? Time had moved too quickly, and the unfortunate part was that he still didn’t have a satisfactory answer for what Gideon wanted. The timing wasn’t right, Ryland’s fears were too strong, and their lives were just too chaotic. Right? Well, if Gideon wasn’t going to bring it up, Ryland wasn’t going to either. He wasn’t a Gryffindor.

“Do you want to check on the chicken?” Ryland asked, nodding toward the oven. I’ve mostly just let it do what it wanted while I was focused on the sauce.” Feeling like it was mostly done, Ryland moved it over to a cool burner to avoid letting it overcook. He moved around Gideon, not quite as comfortable in the kitchen as his friend but still trying his best to keep this smooth. They did often work well together, and this moment wasn’t dissimilar.

Ryland had been trying to convince himself to invite Cora over for weeks. She was in the Order now. She was trying. She hadn’t ever been directly involved in what had happened to him. But something had been holding him back. This house was still his sanctuary--and some days the only holder of his sanity--precisely because he’d been paranoid and not provided anyone in his family immediate ready access. Purposefully changing that, even for Cora, felt incredibly daunting.

When he heard she’d been involved in the battle in Diagon Alley, though, Ryland didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t a permanent open on the wards. Currently Gideon was the only person who had one of those, and his argument to get it had been Pippin-related. Instead Ryland had owled Cora, requesting she come by at tea time, then had told the house, “Cora Greengrass arriving by floo or apparation mid- to late afternoon.” Then he’d busied himself on small tasks to have a little food. When he received an owl of affirmation, Ryland focused doubly so. He had everything ready except the tea pot itself. Most would have just cast a warming spell on it, but Ryland didn’t have enough faith in himself for that. It could wait. So could he. Ryland sat quietly, a book next to him but not actually open as he waited for Cora to arrive.

🔪 - protect, attack, fight side-by-side with

Protect: Cora

Attack: probably no one

Gideon listened to Ryland speak but gave Pippin most of his attention. He had missed the little kitten and he had gotten a bit bigger over the past month. Ryland had kept him for most of that time and Gideon felt badly about it but he couldn’t really have the poor thing home all the time with the work that he was doing. He needed more space than just his small study where his work was normally done and so his work flowed out into the kitchen and dining room when he was busy working. He had no choice but to keep Pippin away and he was perfectly safe with Ryland. He wouldn’t mention that it was also a way of keeping Ryland in his life which also giving him the space that he had asked for. 

“Sorry. I haven’t been baking much lately. I’ll try to remember to send you stuff more often though.” He felt guilty about the slacking he had been doing when it came to the kitchen. “I’m glad that you’re here. The food smells great.” He glanced down at Pippin again giving him another snuggle before letting him jump from his arms back to the floor so he could go find his bed. “I’m sure he adores you.” He ignored the irreplaceable comment because he wasn’t sure how to respond to it. He knew he wasn’t. “I missed you.” Had he said that already? Probably. “How have you been? What’s new with you?”

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“You don’t have to send me more things,” Ryland said, brows furrowing in his frustration to explain what he meant. “I was just worried about you is all. It’s not like you to stop doing the things you love. Is it work or something?” In the aftermath of the Diagon Alley attack, Ryland shivered. “I just hate the idea of something weighing on you and not being able to help. If dinner every once in a while helps, I’ll do what I can.” 

He cleared his throat, unable to help the feeling he’d overstepped. Despite all the times Gideon had spend in his kitchen, Ryland wasn’t sure he’d spent many here. He’d had to open three drawers to find a proper spoon to stir the sauce. As he turned back to it before it had a chance to burn, Ryland shrugged. “Oh, I don’t think much. I’ve been doing those bloody dueling classes Bran Yaxley’s holding. They’re brutal, and I’m not sure I like them.” He’d tried to quit them actually, and she’d dragged him back. “But they must be doing something. Apparently I have a decent shield charm now.” Ryland almost wanted to demonstrate, but once again, he’d broken James Potter’s cardinal rule about leaving his wand lying out of reach. Ryland shivered again. For all the good keeping his wand on his person had done James.

He shrugged his shoulders casually at the question, eyebrow quirking slightly upwards as the other man fumbled with the glass. ‘ All yours, ’ he deadpanned, with less bite, eyes taking in Greengrass’ expression as he examined the bottle. And as he looked up, their eyes met again. Severus’ own gaze remained a steady and unmoving weight, watched the fear and shame push and pull beneath the other man’s gaze. Watched the memory of overwhelming panic and fear, numbers counting down, hands too close to the fire.

The first time Severus had relied on Occlumency to keep the panic at bay, overwhelmed enough to need the neat boxes and mental structure to simply make it through, he was still at Hogwarts. Sharing a class with the boy who tried to kill him, and the werewolf he used as a weapon. Knowing if they tried again, they’d get away with it, again, and there was nothing he could do to stop them from trying. What he saw in Greengrass’ mind did not soften him, but it straightened his spine and hardened his resolve nonetheless.

He pushed himself off the counter, and made his way to the table across from him, where Greengrass stood. He leaned his back against the wood, next to the man, keeping him at arms length but still close enough that it was clear who he was speaking to when he turned to look at him. He folded his arms across his chest. ‘ That doesn’t help much, does it? ’ he asked, head tilting to the side, observing. ‘ Never helped me — not like that, not on its own. ’ He waved a hand. Shifted. ‘ I’m an Occlumence. Makes it easier not to think about it. ’ A pause. A slow blink. ‘ You know what Occlumency is? ’

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Ryland looked down at the vial, then back up at Severus. There was a catch here. There had to be one. Still, whatever it was would surely be worth it to keep it. Either that or Ryland wouldn’t be able to perform whatever it was Severus wanted. His magic was pitiful like that. Surely he wouldn’t be tied up too tightly by whatever it was he’d surely be asked for in return for slipping the potion into his pocket.

He remained wary as Severus came closer, almost flinching at the rhetorical question. No, it didn’t. Not thinking about it wasn’t enough to keep the thoughts from coming anyway. It was perhaps only because he was thinking of thoughts already that the term Occlumency brought forth any familiarity. “That’s the mind reading thing, isn’t it?” Ryland asked, then his eyes widened. “You’re not reading mine right now, are you?”

He took a step back, then felt incredibly foolish for it. If Severus was already in his head, a little physical distance wouldn’t keep him out. With a shiver, Ryland wondered what he saw. Nothing good. Nothing that showed strength or courage or anything but the crumbling frayed edges Ryland figured probably existed in his mind. He was rebuilding, but it was slow going. He took care to try and keep anyone from realizing how slow.

Elevator: Frank

Traffic: Cora