Mahari's mouth dropped open as the ground ripped itself from the earth. The entrance of Diagon Alley was demolished, screaming people and falling debris everywhere. "Stay here." Harry let go of her hand and ran down to the commotion.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked, breathless as she and Tedros came to stand beside her.

"I don't know! Harry's down there, trying to figure out what happened." They watched as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Professor Lupin ran past them, and in Mrs. Weasley's case, run as fast as she could, towards the disturbance. Hermione was joined by Ron and Ginny, fighting to get to their friends through the rush of people who were trying to go the opposite way.

"I can't do it." Ginny said, stamping her foot. "Why are we up here?"

"Ginny, we need to stay here." Hermione said, fidgeting slightly.

"But Hermione we've gone up against worse! Besides, someone might need help."

"The adults are here…" Ron looked at her strangely.

"And when has it ever been left to the adults?" He asked. Ginny looked at him and they both started walking down the alley. Hermione looked at they walk away and huffed.

"Fine. You two stay here." She ran after them. Tedros looked at Mahari and his eyebrow rose.

"You stay here." He followed everyone else. Mahari crossed her arms, the emotions starting to wear at her shields. It was happening again… forcing herself to breathe; she leaned against a building, her hands over her ears. The screams she heard inside of her head… people dead or dying. Mahari was hyperventilating.

She couldn't take it anymore. The screams were getting louder… pushing off from the building; Mahari looked around for any quiet and empty space in the alley, eyes blurred as she fought her way through people who were running around in terror, those who were just rooted to the spot.

"The dark lord… Death eaters next, mind you… who was hurt?... Too many children about… St. Mungos is going to be full tonight, mark my words… Too many people… They knew everybody would be here…" Mahari recoiled physically as she heard the words whisper through her mind. Someone grabbed her arm and spun her around, but she rent long scratches down the side of their face and they let her go, causing her to stumble to the ground.

Gaining purchase in her ridiculously delicate shoes, she scrambled up the alley, and the ground rose up to meet her. Mahari was lifted into the air, her own scream dragged from her mouth as she connected to the shop window of a store she knew nothing of… and then the beautiful black claimed her.

> > > > > > > >

Harry woke up to the sound of his own breathing… opening his eyes he could see people on the ground in front of him, obviously dead or wishing they were. He tried to move, but a large stone was on his right side, and he was forced to be a spectator.

It was like watching a movie on mute. People's mouths were open, their eyes wide with fright… they were screaming but he couldn't hear them. His glasses were severely cracked, giving the world a splintered look. The worst part was that he couldn't feel his arm at all…

He opened his mouth to say something, but his own screams pushed themselves to the forefront. Harry shifted slightly, and used his still good left arm to push against the piece of wall, but he was too weak, blood trickling down his forehead and covering his left lens.

Suddenly it was if someone wound the world up, and everything jumped into sound. His head throbbed horribly, and he pushed again, gaining a little purchase. Leaning back for a moment he pushed again, gathering all his strength; and the stone rolled off of him and onto the ground. He laid there for a moment, and gritted his teeth and got to his feet.

His right leg was cut severely; the robes and pants he wore were dark burgundy with blood. Harry tested it gently, and found he could put weight on it. Suddenly his memory caught up with his body, and he wiped the blood off of his glasses. Mahari!

His leg buckled underneath him, and Ron caught him around the waist. "Harry! You're hurt! Mum, Dad! It's Harry!" Tedros ran up next to him, face ashen and eyes wide.

"Where's Mahari?" Harry opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. "Where is she?" He still couldn't answer. "WHERE IS MY SISTER!" Tedros shook him roughly, gathering him up by the collar, forcing Ron out of the way.

"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM? CAN'T YOU SEE THAT HARRY IS HURT TOO?" Ron shoved Tedros from the side, causing the older boy to release him. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head, and no one could catch him before he hit the ground.

> > > > > > >

Harry floated towards consciousness, the pull of the voices insistent. He opened his eyes as someone placed his glasses on his face. It was Ginny. "Hi, Harry. I'm glad you're awake." She said, taking his hand. He moved his right one experimentally, and found it was no longer broken. "Madam Pomfrey was in the Alley, and she's still there… finding survivors, and identifying the… dead."

"Where is Mahari?" He croaked, the voice coming from his throat not his. Ginny adverted her gaze, and Harry's heart sank in his chest. "Where is she?" He pushed himself to a sitting position, ignoring the fact that his insides were burning.

"Harry, Madam Pomfrey said you had some internal bleeding that she couldn't do anything about. You're going to have to rest to let it heal!" She pushed him down, and he fell backwards, winded.

"Where is she?"

"Harry, we can't find her. Ron, Hermione, Tedros, and everyone else is still at the alley. We had to get you out of there, because it was just the chance that Voldermort would have taken to grab you."

"I have to go find her." Harry groaned as he swung his legs around and stood. Ginny stood in front of him, arms crossed. "Move."

"No. Harry, you're more hurt than you think." She said, pushing her hair out of her face. He saw the bruise on her cheek, livid against her pale skin. There was dried blood on her green shirt, and running down the side of her jeans.

"Look at you! Where are you hurt?"

"It's… not my blood. It's yours." Ginny pointed to his cheek. "A mediwitch healed your cheek, but it was bleeding really badly. I held your head in my lap as we waited for someone who could see you. We were afraid to move you… Harry, you don't know how bad it was."

"Well, I'm about to find out." He moved to walk, but his body wouldn't listen, and he half crumpled into Ginny's arms. She steadied him, and tried again, making it out of the room.

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think I'm going?" Harry's eyesight swam with the pain as he took each step, breathless as he touched down on the landing.

"And how do you think you'll get there!" She watched him open the door; the slightly cooler night air blew into the foyer. Ginny hesitated, and then ran after Harry, pulling the door closed. Harry stood on the sidewalk, and as she stopped beside him, his wand tip lit up. "You're calling the Knight Bus?"

Harry just stared straight ahead, pushing the thoughts of pain out of his head, his body holding on to them more insistently. He looked as it materialized a dozen yards before him, pulling up and opening its doors. "Stay here." Ginny rolled her eyes and helped push him onto the bus.

"Oh please. Since you're too hard headed to learn, I have to make sure you don't hurt yourself too badly."

"Where to mate?" Stanley asked, still as bumpy and greasy as ever.

"Diagon Alley." Harry eased himself to the bed next to him.

"Sorry, we're not going there tonight. Something's happened. Anywhere else, and we can get you there in a hurry."

"Diagon Alley." Stanley turned to Ginny.

"Does he 'ave a hearing problem?" He choked off his words as he backed up. Harry was in front of him in a second, his brilliant green gaze piercing into his skull. He watched as Stanley's eyes flickered briefly to the scar on his forehead, and down to the wand that was clutched tightly in his hand. "Diagon Alley it is."

> > > > > > >

Hermione wiped the sweat off of her forehead, the dirt smearing across her face as she lifted the smaller pieces of debris from on top of the collapsed storefront. Her back was protesting, and so was Ron. "You should take a break."

"You heard her Ron. There could be people here." She said tiredly, shaking. He took her into his arms, and she choked back her tears. "My God Ron… so many people hurt… dead… dying… for what?"

"Power. Control. Fear." He stroked her hair, and her quaking stilled somewhat. "You need a rest. I'll finish this area. Mum said she wanted you at home with Ginny anyway." Hermione pulled away from him.

"So you want me at home, away from the danger? Well Ron, that's not going to happen." She said hotly.

"Hermione, I want you home because you're going to make yourself sick with exhaustion. We've been working since this afternoon, moving bricks and pieces of walls. You need a break, and honestly, you would know if Harry's condition went south or not before most people. We need you to keep an eye on him too." He kissed her dirt smudged temple quickly. "Don't make me worry about you too."

Hermione sighed and leaned into the redhead's touch. Standing on her tiptoes, she gave him a hug around the neck, and she opened her eyes. There was yelling at the entrance of Diagon Alley, the first blast area to be cleared of debris and bodies.

Ron turned around, frowning. "What in bloody hell is that?" He paled as Harry pushed himself through the crowd, wand out, followed by Ginny. "Harry!" He jerked at the sound of his name, and labored over to where his friends were standing. "Mate, you don't need to be on your feet!"

"He wouldn't sit still and listen." Ginny said sourly from next to him. "But you can't blame him. I wouldn't either."

"You're not helping Ginny." Hermione hissed, worry on her face at the way that Harry was swaying slightly.

"She's helping me. Where is Mahari?" He asked, lightly hitting Hermione's hands away from his cloak. If she would have touched it she would have known it was worse than she thought.

"We haven't found her. Tedros is up the alley with Lupin, Fred and George just apparated some people to St. Mungos with Madam Pomfrey, and Mum and Dad are at the Ministry, organizing the last of the aurors who aren't in the field. It's crazy; we had to beg just to stay here to help."

"Well, I've got to find her."

"Mate, maybe someone's already found her. Why don't you go on the next trip to St. Mungos? Then you could identify her if she's already there. Remember, there are no records for her."

"She's not there." Harry walked past them, up the alley, leaving everyone behind, extremely worried.

>

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, apparated close to the exit of Diagon Alley, frowning. This wasn't good, an election year and all. It was as if someone started demolition of the beloved shopping plaza… how could this be explained?

His Aurors told him that the wards here had seen some suspicious activity. But everything was happening too fast. They could no longer ignore dark activity, and it was popping up everywhere. The Aurors were stretched thin… and he decided that Diagon Alley was entirely too public for someone to be able to wreak havoc with the wards. And now people paid dearly for that misstep.

His eyes scanned the area; the people left basically clearing a way for the removal of bodies. Anyone left for this long under the masonry was dead, thank goodness. The whole place looked surreal, everyone in slow motion, the harsh light giving the stones a red sheen… blood. It was everywhere. His nose wrinkled as the smell hit him. He was never good in the field… this was a mistake. He turned around, stomach sick. He couldn't take it any longer. "Minister, you're not leaving are you?" He turned around and sneered.

"Rita Skeeter… you should have disappeared a long time ago." Cornelius said, crossing his arms.

"Aren't we being defensive… or from what I see here, maybe you're not." Rita smiled and adjusted her glasses, and Fudge could see over her shoulder her photographer taking pictures at the piles of bloody rubble.

"Rita, I don't have time to talk to you right now." She smiled and her long emerald nails adjusted the lapels of her moss green robes.

"You might want to talk to me before my story goes to press." He scoffed.

"No one reads the Quibbler. Don't mistake it; you were just used to get a story out. And no one is interested in reading that ridiculous magazine any longer."

"Then that means the Minister of Magic himself is behind the times. I'm rehired at the Prophet. Everyone will be reading this by the time of the next owl post. So what do you say? Damage control?"

"If I don't you'll just make up things that will be hard to explain away." Rita smiled innocently, whipping out her Quick Quills.

"That would be rude. So Minister, what are you thoughts on what happened today? And your response to what people consider to be poor preparation of the Aurors and their response time for disasters."

"The Ministry is grieving with all the families that lost love ones in this horrendous attack. We must not forget that we are in a particularly delicate time, with everyone on high alert." He said it curtly as he walked further into the alley.

"And the Aurors?"

"They were stretched thin on what appeared to be randomly reported incidences. We know now they were just to get us out of the way. We did our best to protect everyone, and we failed. We are just normal wizards, like everyone else." Rita turned, looking around for another story. The minister wasn't giving her anything to use, and she wouldn't get the byline she wanted.

Her pale, watery blue eyes searched the alley until she came across the most welcome of sights. Harry Potter never did need help to sell papers. She smiled and made her way swiftly to his position, her quill scratching notes on her parchment as she walked.

The light half had gone; what luminescence that could be spared carved the powerful profile of Harry Potter out of the darkness. His Hogwarts Robes are caked in mason dust, his movements determined as he and another unnamed worker pulled rubble from the mass of twisted stores and carts that once lined Diagon Alley.

Whatever The Boy Who Lived is looking for he has not found, his face in anguish. Perhaps it's a classmate, a stranger who needs his singular skill… He moves on, hair windswept, scar glowing as it cast a soft light on the ground, aiding his search.

The tragic boy wizard stumbled, obviously injured, into the arms of a tall, dark young man older than he. The hero needs strength, and pauses for a moment to gather himself before pushing back to his feet. His face looks as if he cannot go on, and he's clutching his side… the older boy with him yells for help… there's blood on his hands… Harry's blood.

He sinks to the ground in front of another pile of rubble, and starts to weakly move the smaller, fist sized rocks from his sight. Grabbing onto a body sized boulder, he heaved, half fainting onto the stone, before waking up and heaving again, rolling it off slightly. Pushing all of his magical might into his last pull, he manages to pry it free, and with the momentum of the roll, he falls backwards, unmoving.

Harry's unnamed friend rushes to grab the young hero, but he stops as he looks at what the moved stone revealed… a hand. A hand that belongs to-

"I guess I didn't teach you about boundaries yet." Hermione stepped smoothly in front of Rita, effectively cutting off her view.

"Move away you hateful girl. My year has expired." She sneered, pushing her out of her way as her photographer snapped picture after picture.

"This doesn't need to end up in the paper." Hermione said again, pushing herself past Rita's grip, to stand in front of her again.

"Who was just found in the pile of rocks?" She asked, Quick Quills working quickly beside her.

"I don't know."

'You don't know." She said, incredulously.

"No, I don't know."

"Harry is obviously hurt, and he's here looking himself. It must be someone important to him. I thought it would have been you." Rita smiled, conniving glee dripping from her tongue. "I just knew you would be the only one who he'd search for so desperately."

"That just proves you don't know Harry." Rita turned, and shrieked as she saw Ron take the camera out of the Bozo's hands.

"That's ours! You can't take it!"

"I believe I just did." Ron threw it over his shoulder, and everyone watched as it bounced, rolling down the lane. Hermione smiled, and turned back as Lupin and Tedros pulled the remaining rubble from what Harry had seen. It was an arm… then a raven head… Mahari. He found her like he said he would. She smiled and walked over to his body, cradling his head in her lap.

"Oh Harry, you did it." Hermione brushed his hair out of his face. He looked so peaceful, as if he were sleep…. She checked his pulse, and her heart quickened. It was so weak… irregular. "Professor Lupin, send someone over here. I think Harry's in trouble!" As soon as she said the last word, her knee became wet. Rolling Harry slightly, she saw that it was blood, dark rich blood, vital organ blood… Harry was dying.

> > > > > >

Mrs. Weasley paced in the waiting room, face drawn and pale with worry. Mungo staff was zipping around everywhere, minds on their jobs. Too many people had come in a short time. It hadn't been this bad since the first time Voldermort had risen to power.

And in sixteen years he had been absent, everyone forgot. How could she have forgotten? And letting Ron, Hermione, and Tedros stay at Diagon Alley? What was she thinking? Now Ron was admitted for a dislocated shoulder, Tedros was being seen for a particularly nasty bite that an unidentified animal gave him as he sifted through their ruined store….and Harry, who was in emergency healing.

Mahari was taken to a room, and was being looked over now, barely alive. It sent chills up her spine as she thought about the poor girl and the little baby she carried inside of her. One of the healers already pulled her aside and told her that Harry hadn't been stabilized yet, and Mahari wasn't expected to live the night.

"Molly, I know that look… it's not your fault." Arthur hugged his wife from behind, trying to still her quaking.

"But it's Voldermort's. I can't help but see my family here, waiting in this room, while given news on the state of my brothers. Two of them Arthur." She closed her eyes as the tears slipped down her face.

"We have to get through this one hour at a time. At least we have the chance for everything to turn out alright. We're better off than some families. They've had to come and claim the bodies."

"I know I'm wicked for thinking this… but I am glad that it isn't us. We've done too much for the Order… we should have some saving grace left for just us… just for us."

"Maybe we do." Mr. Weasley looked at the door, and Ron walked in, rotating his arm slightly. Hermione and Ginny rushed over to him, hugging him immediately, Tedros hanging back slightly.

"Any word on my sister?" He asked him, voice low, as if there was no energy left to power his words.

"Sorry. They didn't answer any of my questions. Just shoved my arm back into my shoulder and pushed me out the door. People are still dying." Hermione choked back a sob and buried her head on his chest. "Hermione, everything is going to be okay. Harry has survived worse than an explosion."

"But my sister hasn't." Everyone was quiet as Tedros went back over to his chair, pulling his legs up and placing his head on his knees, hiding behind his hair.

> > > > > > >

Harry shoved his eyes open, and looked into an attendant, who was measuring out a potion over his body. "What is that?" The poor woman was so startled that she dropped the vial and it crashed to the ground, breaking and spreading the liquid across the floor.

"Mr. Potter… you're not supposed to be awake. You were given an especially strong dose of Dreamless Sleep." She looked frazzled. "I… I need to go get a senior healer…" Harry watched as she ran out of the room, blue robes flying. He tried to sit up, but his body no longer listened to him, his head encased in a transparent fog. He could see the world, but lacked the ability to interact with it physically. The only thing that still worked was his eyes and mouth.

A witch with a large graying bun briskly swooped into the room, another cup full of Dreamless Sleep, no doubt. Harry shook his head, closing his mouth. "Mr. Potter, one way or another I will get this down your throat. You must rest to heal!" She said huffily, weariness apparent as he looked closer.

"Where is Mahari?"

"The young woman you found? Don't worry about her. We have her under control." She smiled and walked closer with the cup.

"Tell me how she's doing."

"That's for her family to know."

"Her brother is around here somewhere, but I am close to her too!" He said fiercely, and the older witch blanched as she caught the full brunt of his glare.

"And we will tell him when it's time. She has been a rather… unique case, and we're stretching our knowledge trying to treat her. But you're not doing her any good by choosing to die instead of live!" She brought the cup to his lips. Harry managed to turn his head, and the potion slipped down the collar of his gown, wetting the front. "Mr. Potter, we need every once of this that we have. Do not make me waste it again."

"It will be wasted if you don't tell me how she's doing. I need to know!" He said, his arms now doing his bidding. He tried pushing her away weakly, but the pain in his side was excruciating, and they fell back to the bed, useless.

"Why Mr. Potter? You're not family, and we do not disclose these serious matters to anyone without provocation!" The witch ceased for a moment. "So unless you can tell me some really good reason-"

"I'm her husband." Harry said lowly.

"Excuse me?"

"She is my wife. Tell me how she's doing." The younger healer paled, mouth open and eyes wide. She couldn't take it anymore. Her eyes teared up as she ran from the room. The senior mediwitch sighed and shook her head.

"She doesn't belong here…." The woman took a deep breath and pulled the cup away. "Mr. Potter… your wife isn't doing well. She's fading fast, and we can't do anything for her. Nothing works. We're going to wheel her in here so that the two of you can say goodbye."

"Is she conscious?" Harry asked, closing his eyes. This isn't happening again…

"Barely. She's in and out."

"Is she in any pain?"

"No."

"I need to see her. I am not taking that stuff until I…" His words were choked off by the tears, his throat thick with the feelings that were just behind his words that wouldn't come out… 'Oh God, Mahari I have failed you…'

"We'll bring her in right away."

>

Tedros forced himself to smile as his sister squeezed his hand weakly. She looked so small under that sheet; her hair was dull and lifeless on the pillow next to her, it falling off the bed like a dead waterfall… dead… "I'm so sorry it had to be like this."

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault." Mahari closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I had a wonderful time, and the past few months with Harry was the happiest I've been since Mom died, you know that."

"I know… I just… wanted to be an Uncle." Tedros whispered, tears slipping down his face. Mahari squeezed his hand again, and he looked up, their eyes so much alike, one bright with grief, and one fading into death.

"I wanted you to be one too." The healer cleared his throat behind him, and Tedros resisted the urge to pull the man's esophagus out of the top of his head.

"Can't you see this is a really bad time?" He growled, glaring at the man. The healer took a step back and swallowed.

"I'm sorry, but we're wheeling her into Mr. Potter's room now, because there's not much time." Tedros opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Mahari's face stopped him.

"I don't have much time, I know that. I need to say goodbye to Harry while I can still talk." She blinked back tears and laughed weakly. "How do I look?"

"Absolutely beautiful. The angels are going to be so jealous that God sent his most beautiful creation to earth, and called it back far too soon." Tedros sniffed and kissed his sister's hand, willing himself to let go. It fell to her side, and when he looked at her face, her eyes were closed. "Take her. I couldn't live with myself if Harry didn't get to say goodbye." He collapsed into tears, body shaking.

>

Harry's breath caught in his throat as they wheeled Mahari in. Her eyes were closed, and her face looked slack, as if she had already passed, but the faint rise and fall of her chest told him otherwise. They pushed the beds together, and quickly left the room, leaving them alone. She opened her eyes, and he was struck at how tired she looked. "Hi."

"Hi." Harry cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She whispered.

"For not protecting you and our baby. I failed again to protect someone close to me. But I swear, it wasn't supposed to be you, if anyone it was supposed to be me." Mahari shook her head softly, closing her eyes against the strain.

"Harry, you're not going to die any time soon. You have too much you have to do. There is a whole world out there that needs you. I'm just one person."

"I can't do it. If I can't protect two people, how can I protect everyone else?"

"I can't answer that question. But know that I truly loved you, we both did." Harry closed his eyes and bit his lip in efforts not to cry. "Cry Harry, and know that all you've lost will one day be returned to you."

"But I need you Mahari."

"No, you don't need me. You need to believe in yourself. You are powerful…." Mahari took a deep breath "… one last time Harry, sleep with me? Let me die with your arms around me?" Harry would have passed through a thousand burning suns if it meant that he would be able to walk out of this place with the love of his life and his unborn child.

Gritting his teeth he lifted himself to his hands, and gasped as he felt something tear loose within. Closing his eyes to the pain he inched over to Mahari, not stopping to rest until he felt the hem of her sleeve on his fingertips. Giving it all he had left he scooted over to her bed, and wrapped his arms around her.

She sighed, leaning her forehead into his cheek. The tears were coming freely now, and for a moment, the thought of following her overtook his brain. He couldn't do that to everyone who worked so hard in this fight against Voldermort. If he gave in, then he would have won. And no matter what, Harry couldn't let that happen. The move took all that he had, and his eyes closed involuntarily, listening to Mahari breathe.

>

"Harry." His eyes opened and he looked down at his arms. Mahari wasn't there… he wasn't in St. Mungos… "No, you're not."

"Queen Xantha. Where am I?" He asked, blinking in the sun. A large meadow stretched out around him as far as he could see, tall grass undulating in the light breeze until it reached the sky in the horizon.

"My mind… your mind… Mahari's mind. It's a mixture." She was dressed in a gown of red, a lace overlay. "My granddaughter is dying."

"I can't stop it from happening." Harry sighed. He felt the grief, but it was just beyond his grasp. "What did you do to me?"

"Emotion doesn't exist here. This is the purely logical part in all of us… where decisions are made. Mahari is too close to death to make the trip here, and after you go back, so will you."

"At least we'll be together when we die." Xantha shook her head.

"Don't let anyone tell you that dying for or with someone is better than living for or with said person. I promise you, it's not." The look in her eyes told Harry she spoke from experience.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked.

"You love Mahari?"

"With everything I have."

"And she loves you equally. You must undergo the Kai Shaveemtar."

"What is that?"

"It is a ceremony that is only to be attempted when each person is healthy, but this is a serous exception. It causes the couple to bond for life, sustaining each other through sickness, injury… and in a few cases, saving one from death."

"But you say we're both dying."

"I know. So if this doesn't work, the Fates can have the both of you as they plan to do now. But if it works, you both might live to love another day."

"I'll do whatever it takes." Harry looked at Queen Xantha, who smiled.

"I expected nothing less. Repeat after me: All I am, I give to her."

"All I am, I give to her."

"All I am, I give to him…" The voice was faint, but there was no mistaking it. Mahari.

"She's making the effort. Say it again."

"All I am, I give to her."

"All I am I give to him."

"Don't stop, the bond is forming!" Xantha disappeared, and Harry fell into himself, and he became aware, his eyes closed and breathing ragged. He felt warm all over, and Mahari was shaking in his arms. She was losing the fight.

'All I am, I give to her. All I am I give to her… All I am I give… to her…" Harry could no longer whisper the words aloud, and repeated them in his head, a mantra he held onto as he fought for his life. Someone else was inside his head, and he felt protected, loved… and he lost consciousness.

> > > > > > >

Hipocratice Highwater liked his job most days, but for the past forty eight hours he really hated it. The bodies were innumerable, and he weighed on his heart to lift a shroud that was half sized… too many children.

He checked his chart and realized he had dozed off. There was a body scheduled for pick up at 4 a.m., and here it was already six thirty. Swearing under his breath, he pulled out the gurney and levitated it down the hall, to the room. He kicked the door open, and cringed. He didn't know it was two bodies he had to grab.

Cursing his bad luck yet again he got to work, first pulling the male off of the female. He stopped as his hands came in contact with flesh. The body was unnaturally warm. It wasn't dead… it was alive. Checking the female, she was breathing weakly, but breathing all the same. "Healers! Come quick, you've made a mistake!"