Disclaimer – I wish I owned these wonderful characters, I really do, but sadly I really don't.

A/N – This story is set post Season 3A and so will include the Nogitsune story arc…sort of…

~ Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus ~

~ Chapter Three ~

"Okay, so what happens to a person who has a near-death experience," the now familiar voice of Scott McCall, one of the werewolves who was unknowingly under his protection, interrupted the peace and quiet of his lunch. Most of the other teachers preferred to eat their lunch in the 'safety' of the Staff Room but after spending so many years 'roughing it' on the Dragon Reserve in Romania he much preferred finding a secluded spot outside where he could enjoy the sounds and smells of the outdoors. "And comes out of it seeing things?"

Charlie froze, apple clenched between his teeth, as Stiles added his own question,

"And is unable to tell what's real or not?"

"And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?"

The juice dripping down his chin finally forced him to move, biting out a chunk of apple and chewing it automatically as a frowning Isaac Lahey looked back and forth between Allison Argent, who had spoken last, and the other two boys before answering their questions,

"They're all locked up because they're insane."

Charlie winced, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, as Stiles laughed coldly.

"Can you at least try to be helpful, please?"

"For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer," Isaac countered, his tone deadly serious. Charlie felt rage pooling in his stomach as he thought of one of his charges, of anyone being abused in such a way. He hoped, truly and sincerely, that Isaac's abuser had been stopped and suitably punished. He'd look into that. "So, being helpful is kind of a new thing for me."

"Hey, dude, are you still milking that?"

Charlie winced.

Was Stiles always so blunt and rude or was his obvious lack of sleep to blame?

Isaac fixed the other boy with a sharp glare,

"Yeah, maybe I am still milking that."

Whether or not the two would have descended into a full blown argument over the subject of Isaac's apparent abuse and Stiles' seeming lack of sympathy Charlie would never know as at that point Kira Yukimura, the dormant Kitsune, edged her way nervously across to them.

"Hi," she blurted out, shifting her folders so that she could offer the group a rather pointless wave. Even at the distance that he was from them Charlie could clearly see the unimpressed look that the unusually silent Lydia directed towards the poor young girl. Scott, however, offered her a smile. "Sorry, I couldn't help overhearing what you guys were talking about. And I think I actually might know what you're talking about. There's a Tibetan word for it. It's called Bardo. It literally means 'in-between state.' The state between life and death."

A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Charlie had of course heard of Bardo through his various subjects at Hogwarts but it had come up most frequently during his Defence Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic lessons, usually to do with a case study of a witch or wizard who had played with things they shouldn't have, trapping them in Bardo which more often than not resulted in their deaths.

"And what do they call you?"

"Kira," Scott answered Lydia's question on the girl's behalf. "She's in our History class."

"And English Literature," Kira added. "My family just moved to…"

Lydia cut her off,

"So are you talking Bardo as in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?"

"Either, I guess," Kira answered with a shrug, almost displacing a couple of her folders but managed to catch them all just in time. "But all the stuff you guys were just saying? All that happens in Bardo. There are different progressive states where you can have hallucinations. Some you see, some you just hear. And you can by visited by peaceful and wrathful deities."

"Wrathful deities?" Isaac repeated, somewhat disbelievingly. "And what are those?"

Bad news is what they are, Charlie thought to himself. What is going on in this town?

Kira answered as simply as she could,

"Like demons."

"Demons," Stiles sighed loudly, looking as though he wanted to face plant the table that the five members of the Pack were sat at. Kira shuffled nervously where she stood. "Why not?"

"Hold on," Allison said, turning in her seat so that she was completely facing the young girl who was helping them. "If there are different progressive states, then what's the last one?"

Kira winced before answering somewhat hesitantly,

"Death. You die."

Even from the distance he was at Charlie could see the colour literally drain from Stiles' face whilst Scott automatically reached out to place his hand on Allison's forearm. He had heard from some of his fellow teachers that the "adorable couple" had broken up not too long ago but it was obvious that there were still some feelings involved. Isaac's smirk had vanished, his brow furrowing into a deep frown as he gazed across at Allison, his blue eyes wide with concern. Lydia, meanwhile, had reacted to the news by pursing her perfectly coloured lips.

"Well," she announced imperiously. "That is simply unacceptable."

Kira blinked, understandably perplexed by the reactions to what should only be a theoretical or hypothetical situation, confirming the fact that as yet she didn't realise that it was all real.

"Um…" the poor girl mumbled with a frown. "Ok, so I'll just be…going…now…"

Unfortunately the route that she chose to leave by took her right past the table he was sat at, prompting her to greet him in her usual polite manner and drawing the group's attention over to him as he responded as warmly as he could. He pretended to be focused on his book as he felt the group staring at him, murmuring amongst themselves before moving as one, rising from their seats and grabbing their bags before heading inside at a falsely casual pace.

Placing his book aside he quickly pulled out his muggle notepad and a ball point pen, both things he had been more than happy to get used to whilst working undercover; they were ridiculously easier to work with than a piece of parchment and a quill, even self-inking ones.

Hermione,

I'm sorry to bother you, I'm sure you've got enough on your plate as it is, but I could use your considerable research skills. As you know I'm monitoring/looking after the supernatural community in Beacon Hills, California and something is going on that I can't quite figure out.

There is a very young Pack, both in terms of age and time in existence, and from what I have managed to figure out they have been at the centre of most of the incidents which brought the town to the MACUSA's attention. Most recently I have learnt that whilst dealing with a darach, a dark druid, three members of the Pack have found themselves trapped in Bardo. Or rather, this is what I have come to suspect; they themselves have also just figured it out.

I will look through the texts that I have with me as to how to help them but would certainly appreciate your assistance as you have access to a vastly superior collection of books at your disposal. Of the three that have been affected one is a True Alpha werewolf, a rarity in itself, whilst the other two are humans; and huntress who has aligned herself with the creatures she should be hunting and the son of the towns Sheriff. Of these three Scott, the werewolf, has been seeing things following a near death experience whilst Stiles, the Sheriffs son, is struggling to tell what is real and what is a dream or a hallucination. Allison, the huntress, concerns me the most right now as she claims to be seeing demonic visions of dead relatives and just the other day I saw her almost shoot one of her friends with an arrow by mistake.

Any help would be greatly appreciated.

Charlie

Finishing his letter he carefully tore along the perforated lines at the top each page, folding them in half once they were free and tucking them into one of the muggle envelopes he had in his satchel. He had been confused the first time he'd used a muggle envelope, so used to sealing his envelopes with wax, and had had to check with a muggleborn friend that you were actually meant to lick it to activate the glue. It was the same as with the notepads and ballpoint pens; he would not be returning to the Wizarding equivalent any time soon, no sir.

Unfortunately sending the letter there and then was absolutely impossible, given that it needed to travel by owl and that would most definitely be noticed, so he had no choice but to tuck the letter back into his satchel bag where it would be safe until he got home later.

Thursday brought no reply but given the distance that the owl had to travel it wasn't all that surprising; he expected to hear back from Hermione by the weekend and then only if she fire-called him with her response. If she sent her response back by owl it could take anything up to a week, two if the owl was delayed which was quite common with international post.

His classes passed by unremarkably, his students behaving themselves for the most part, until the final period of the day when he realised that both Scott and Stiles were missing.

"No McCall or Stilinski today?"

No one could have missed the sharp look shared between Lydia, Allison and Isaac before the werewolf spoke up, lying with an easiness that denoted years of practice twisting the truth,

"Stiles ate something that didn't agree with him. Nurse said for him to go home and sleep it off. Since he was in no fit state to drive Scott offered to drive him home and look after him."

"How commendable of Mr McCall to sacrifice his own education for his friend's welfare," Charlie responded, channelling his memories of Severus Snape as he made sure that his disbelief was clear for all of them to hear. "Mr Lahey, I trust that you'll be happy to make notes for them so that they can catch up with the work they'll miss? Good. Now, today we shall be comparing the romantic relationships between Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Darcy of Pride and Prejudice with Jane Eyre and Mr Rochester of Jane Eyre which you all should have read by now as it was third on your summer reading list, I believe. If you haven't, good luck."

He could tell by the expressions of horror which students hadn't completed their reading.

Mr Lahey was one of them.

Miss Martin excelled during the class, of course, as did Miss Argent although she admitted to having ready the book in question when she was twelve. Miss Yukimura contributed a couple of times although it was pretty clear she wasn't as familiar as she could have been.

A couple of others students risked ridicule by attempting to contribute.

The vast majority, however, remained silent.

"A reminder to those of you who have yet to complete your required reading; it's not a suggestion, it's a requirement if you wish to achieve a passing grade," Charlie reiterated moments before the bell was due to ring signalling that the lessons was over. His words brought about a collection of grumbles but only one student looked truly panicked. "Mr Lahey, please stay behind a moment after the bell. Everyone else you may go once it rings."

It didn't escape his notice that Argent and Martin loitered in the doorway once the rest of the class had filed out, making no attempt to conceal the fact that they were watching him.

"Please correct me if I'm mistaken but you seem to be more concerned about the required reading than the rest of your classmates," Charlie offered up. "Is there something wrong?"

"I…I don't know how much you know about my…situation…"

More than you could possibly imagine, actually…

"But Mrs McCall, my foster mother, can't afford to get me copies of the books as well as Scott and he hasn't finished reading Jane Eyre yet so I've got to wait to borrow it off him."

"I see," Charlie murmured sympathetically, crossing to the closest bookcase where he retrieved a battered copy of the book in question from the bottom shelf. "Here. You can borrow my copy until your foster brother has finished with his so that you can catch up."

The copy had originally been his sisters, actually, from her final year of Muggle Studies as had quite a few of the books on that particular shelf. She'd been more than happy to lend them to him when he'd explained the situation he had found himself in and some of her notes had proven helpful; others, such as a discussion between her and one of her friends in note form about whether or not they found Mr Rochester sexy, had not been. Thankfully there weren't any notes about magic or the lack thereof so it was safe to lend it to Lahey.

"It was my sisters originally," Charlie explained as he his student began to flick through the book, pausing to read a couple of the notes. One caused him to snort loudly. "Yes, some of her notes are a little bit…um…interesting and have very little to do with the book itself..."

"...who is Dean Thomas?"

"Her ex-boyfriend, I think. Why?"

"Well apparently your sister thought he had a really cute butt, or as she puts it, bum," Lahey announced, pointing to the note in question. Matching giggles sounded from the doorway in response to his deadpan recitation even as Charlie himself let out a snort. "And someone else, a friend of hers I'm guessing, suggested that she find out if it feels as nice as it looks."

"Ah," Charlie sighed. "Yes. Well, enjoy the added bonus of my sister's teenage scribblings."

"…thanks for this, sir," Lahey mumbled, adding the book to his backpack before shouldering it and joining his smirking friends at the doorway. "I'll get it back to you as soon as I can."

Charlie nodded, waving for them to get going to their next class.

"That ones been through a lot more than he lets people see," Hallam commented once they were alone, Charlie moving to wipe the board clean in preparation for his next class. Luckily he had a free period next otherwise students would've been flooding into the room by now. "What do you think McCall and Stilinski are really up to? For a huntress, a banshee and a werewolf their excuses and poker faces need desperate work. Ate something that didn't agree with him, indeed. Skipping school and getting their poor friends to cover more likely."

"I don't know. I just hope it has nothing to do with Bardo."

It didn't, as it turned out.

Charlie had come across a rather interesting scene whilst out on patrol that evening, Stiles showing his father the around a rather unpleasant looking cave deep in the woods, and had learned through the conversation he'd overheard that they suspected a child that had gone missing after a car accident which had tragically claimed the lives of their mother and sister wasn't as missing everyone believe, that she was in fact living in the woods as a coyote. To anyone else the story would've sounded completely insane; to the Sheriff and Charlie it was a perfectly reasonable explanation, one that with a quick spell, Charlie was able to confirm.

Malia Tate was neither missing nor dead, as most people assumed.

She was a shifter, or a were-coyote as they called it, and she was stuck in her animal form.

"You poor thing," Charlie sighed, using his magic to scan for any sign of her. She was nearby, watching them invade her den no doubt, but he made no move to approach her. It would be better for the Pack to help return her to her human for, he reasoned, to keep his secret safe for a little while longer. Not to mention they, as fellow shifters, would be less threatening than a wizard to someone running on animal instincts. He'd make sure to watch out for her in the meantime, though, his list of charges having grown. "Welcome to the family, Malia."

Charlie was on his way back from grabbing a mug of coffee in the staff room during his free period of the day when he came across McCall and Stilinski in a state of obvious distress.

Charlie froze, opting to watch for a moment before making his presence known.

"Stiles, look at me, man," the True Alpha urged his poor friend. "Is this a panic attack?"

"It's a dream, it's a dream," Stilinski muttered weakly in response. "This is just a dream."

"No, it's not," McCall countered firmly. "This is real."

Stilinski shook his head, his eyes clenched shut.

"You're here; you're here with me," McCall pressed on, his hands fluttering uselessly up and down his friends arms even as Stilinski continued to shake his head, his breaths quickening. "Okay, Stiles, what do you do? I mean, like, how do you tell if you're awake or dreaming?"

"Your fingers," Stilinski gasped. "You count your fingers. You have extra fingers in dreams."

Huh, Charlie thought with a frown, was that true?

He'd never heard of that trick before but then again he'd never had a problem telling the difference between being awake and dreaming. Bill had, he remembered, but it had never taken much to snap his brother out of the confused state he'd sometimes become stuck in.

It had definitely never been as bad as it seemed to be for Stilinski.

"How many do I have?" McCall demanded, holding up his unsteady hands in front of his friends face. "Hey! Look at me. Come on, Stiles. Look at my hands and count with me."

Blinking his eyes sporadically Stilinski obeyed,

"One. Two."

"Keep going."

"Three. Four."

"Five."

Charlie approached them as quietly as he could manage, his concern mounting as he heard the tremble in his students unusually soft voice as he struggled to count his friends fingers.

"Six. Seven."

"Eight."

"Nine. Ten."

"Ten," McCall repeated, wiggling the offended pinkie finger. "Ten."

"…what the hell is happening to me?"

"We'll figure it out," McCall promised, pulling the shorter teen into a hug so tight that it made Stilinski's already challenged breathing even shorter. "You're going to be okay."

"Am I?" Stilinski demanded, pulling away. "Are you?"

A moment of harsh breathing passed between them before he continued,

"Scott, you can't transform."

Now that was concerning, to say the least.

An Alpha werewolf, worse than that a True Alpha, that couldn't transform?

No, something was definitely wrong there.

Merlin, Charlie silently cursed, they might be further into bardo that I thought…

"Allison's being haunted by her dead aunt," Stilinski continued on, his voice little more than a sharp hiss by that point as his emotions ran haywire. "And I'm straight up losing my mind."

His own diagnosis was clearly the one he was most upset about and was it any wonder given that the file that Charlie had managed to pull together on him, the same as he had for each member of the Pack, had included the Stilinski families medical reports so he was very much aware of the tragedy which had befallen his student and charge and could understand how the prospect of following in his mums footsteps regarding mental health would terrify him.

"We can't do this," he gasped. "We can't we can't help Malia. We can't help anyone."

"We can try," McCall pointed out. "We can always try."

Deciding that it was time for him to make his presence known Charlie cleared his throat, the soft sound causing both teens to jump or rather flail in Stilinski's case and turn to face him.

"Sir!" McCall cried out, paling rapidly. "Er, Stiles wasn't…"

"You're obviously not over whatever it was that struck you down yesterday, Mr Stilinski," Charlie said, making it perfectly clear with his tone of voice that he believed that about as much as he had believed the excuse when it had been given to him yesterday. As one the teenagers winced. Keeping eye contact with both of them as best he could he brought his empty right hand behind his back so that he could draw his wand and silently cast a quick diagnostic spell on the shorter teenager. "Perhaps another trip to the nurse is in order?"

"Um, yes," Mr McCall mumbled quickly. "That's…that's actually where we were heading."

"Good," Charlie responded with a smile. "Off you go then."

The boys were only just out of sight when the diagnostic spell finished, the results appearing on a piece of parchment which hung in the air before him until he grabbed it. Hurrying along the corridor, discretely hiding his wand and the scroll behind his back when he came upon a student on their way to the bathroom, he ducked into his classroom and plonked his coffee down on the nearest table so he could focus his attention on the results of his earlier spell.

"Residual mental scarring, no surprises there unfortunately," he sighed regretfully, running his hand across his face, before reading on. "Caused by an incomplete surrogate sacrifice."

He couldn't believe what he was reading.

A surrogate sacrifice?

What in Merlin's name possessed them to try something so dangerous?

There were other options, far safer than the one they had chosen, most of which would've probably worked out even better for them in regards to the dangerous situation the young Pack had found themselves in shortly before Charlie had been sent there by the MACUSA.

Any option was better than temporarily killing yourself to fuel the Nemeton given that there was no way to 100% guarantee that a) you'd come back to life at all and b) that if you were successfully brought back that you'd come back undamaged by the dark forces of the spell.

And, oh look, he thought sarcastically to himself, they're in bardo so something went wrong.

And who could have suggested such a thing?

Stiles was far too clever to go with the riskiest solution first so that meant someone else had come up with the plan and had convinced the three of them to go along with it regardless of the dangers. But who? Who had such a powerful influence of them and the knowledge to…

Wait…

Charlie cursed,

"The bloody druid…"

"I told you to make your presence known to the druid when you arrives," Hallam piped up from his portrait. "Never trusted them, always playing with things they don't understand."

"Yes, yes, you're right, I should have confronted him," Charlie muttered, regret burning in his stomach. He'd left the druid, the towns veterinarian, alone as he'd appeared to be loyal to the young members of the Pack and Charlie had assumed, wrongly it seemed, that he would use the knowledge he possessed to help them and keep them safe. "Damn the man."

A surrogate sacrifice?

Honestly…

There were other things on the analysis, such as his students ADHD and the fact that he was borderline exhausted, but nothing anywhere near as alarming as the first thing on the list.

Anything could have latched on to their minds during the ritual.

Anything!

And judging by their behaviour, not to mentions their symptoms, something had.

But what?

A/N Ok, so first off I must offer my sincerest apologies for how long this update has taken. I had been suffering from the worst case of writers block I have ever encountered in regards to this story and it has only been in the last couple of weeks that it's finally begun to subside allowing me to get on with it. This chapter has, in fact, been half-finished for over a year but I just couldn't get my brain to let me finish it until now. A timely review spurred me on to get it completed before I go away for a week with the Sea Cadets as I won't be able to write at all let alone post nay updates. I won't say I hope it was worth the wait as the wait was far too long; I'll just say I hope you enjoyed the update. Comments & Suggestions welcome. X