A/N: Thank you so much to Andrew, Njhill22, and Ichigopan for helping me out a lot with this chapter. Andrew not only helped to work out some of the plot kinks for this chapter and the next, but he also beta-read it for me, and therefore rocks. Njhill22 and Ichigopan are also awesome, because both of them helped me until 3 am when I wound up seriously stuck on how to write the next part. Thanks so much you guys!
Hopefully everyone's reviews received a response. I went through and replied to all of them, so if for some reason you did not get a reply drop me an e-mail and let me know.
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
William Shakespeare
Chapter 25 ~ No Longer Helpless
With a flick of his wrist the candles went out.
His heel remained solidly planted against Angelina's chest as shrouds of darkness shot out in all directions, like the spindly fingers of a corpse, until the entire room was engulfed in an inky, suffocating darkness. Harry scarcely noticed any of it, nor the thick scent of burnt wax as unseen smoke curled up from the extinguished candles.
Anger pumped heavily through his veins, and with a hate he had not thought possible he glared down at the girl beneath him. In the past his callous actions against his former house mate would have sickened him, but now...
Things were different.
His outstretched hand shook, his barely restrained magic crackling across his skin like static electricity, burning and searing at his flesh. Grimacing in pain he forcefully curled his fingers into a fist, tightening it, feeling the raw power seeping back in
A new feeling rose up within him. A dark, powerful, vengeful feeling.
Bearing the coldest of looks he crouched low, inspecting Angelina to ensure that she was indeed unconscious. He would not make the mistake of thinking a Death Eater subdued when they were not, but her death would do him no good.
He intended to find out all he could from the treacherous wench.
Then, beneath his foot, he felt the slow rise and fall of her ribcage, and his leg twitched with the suppressed urge to stomp the breath from her. For the first time he understood what Ron had meant when he had drilled him on the differences of fighting defensively versus offensively in chess.
From now on Harry was out to win, and if that meant taking down the opponent's pawns to do so he would show no hesitation.
Swallowing back a nauseous wave of revulsion he reached out, touching the tainted witch's skin and shoving her head to the side. It lolled over with a dull thud, revealing nothing. The Death Eater would not be moving for some time.
Good.
Still...they had all been fooled by Angelina's acting skills once. He would not fall victim to that again.
With calculated efficiency he withdrew his wand, a frightening look crossing his features. His anger still burned hot within him, the veins in his neck pulsing intensely as he thought of the witch's betrayal. Angelina had been his house mate, a teammate, but worst of all, she had nearly been a friend. Once she was a Gryffindor. And now...
She had betrayed the Order by taking the mark of that snake, and had all but killed Kaylens, possibly robbing her of her mind.
A growl ripped from his throat, the tip of his wand suddenly digging against the traitor's temple as he pondered all the spells he could use.
Thunk.
"Harry, stop!"
He stopped cold. Remus' gruff, panicked voice had cut through the air like a well sharpened knife, sending his wand arm tensing as his father's last friend fought his way out from beneath the books that had fallen atop him. In the aftermath of his own scuffle he had nearly forgotten Lupin's presence, and the thundering of his pulse in his ears had drowned out the low groans and whimpers from the other side of the room.
He had forgotten one other thing: That despite the lack of lighting in the room, Lupin could still see exactly what he was doing.
"Lumos."
Harry's head snapped around as a soft glow cut through the thick darkness, his gaze riveted to the horrified expression crossing Remus' face.
His one-time Professor stood behind the overturned bookcase, eyes wide and staring.
"My God..." he whispered chokingly, "Harry..." His accusatory eyes flickered up to his. "What have you done?"
He sucked in a strained breath between his teeth. "Nothing she didn't deserve," he hissed staidly.
A strangled sound came from the Professor's throat. "But Harry...that's Angelina..."
"No kidding. Really?" he snapped.
A sudden scuffle and thud, followed by a sharp, inhuman whimper sent his wand jabbing into Angelina's head.
"Kally..."
He hadn't needed the Professor's devastated whisper to know who was softly whimpering.
Heart wrenching, he fought back the hollow feeling in his chest. "Why don't you see to Kaylens, Professor," he grated out, his face a grim mask as he focused back on the former chaser.
"I will but...is Angelina okay?"
"I sure as hell hope not."
A loud swallow preceded Remus' next, tense words.
"What are you planning on doing Harry?"
"You know Moony," he said, voice vibrating with barely suppressed rage. "I'm still deciding on that.
Lupin's voice was strained, the cautious, placating note in it foreign to him. "Harry, I know something's wrong. But just think about what you're doing…"
A cruel, hollow laugh escaped his throat. "Oh, trust me Moony, I have."
"She's on our side, Har..."
He cut him off, spitting out the cold truth.
"She's a Death Eater, Moony."
From behind him came a loud, apprehensive swallow. "Harry...are you sure?"
A cold grimace crossed his features. "Yes."
There was an agonizing pause, and a sick, uneasy dread suddenly rose in his stomach as his racing pulse finally began to slow. He needed Remus to believe him. He needed someone in the Order to not just listen to him, but to actually trust him. And if Remus didn't...
"I'll bind her. She'll have to be taken to headquarters."
Harry's head bolted around, shock written on his expression. "You believe me," he questioned. And even in the dim light he could see the slight movement of Remus' shadow nodding.
"Harry," he said, sounding almost hurt. "I always believe you."
His brow instantly wrinkled in confusion. Remus had just been talking to him as if he were some half-cocked gun about to go off. "Then why..."
"Because I thought you might blow her head off before I could figure out i why /i you had attacked her in the first place. It would have been a very Sirius-like thing to do."
The thought struck him hard. "Yeah," he managed. "It would have been like him."
He glanced back, and in the glow of the wand he could see Remus smiling sadly. He returned the expression, feeling shakier than he would have thought possible only minutes before, but that didn't matter.
Remus believed him. He did care about him after all.
His apologies for all those lost months, for all the time when he had been left to deal with the pain of Sirius' death alone truly had meant something, and despite everything a warm sensation wormed its way into him.
All it took was a soft whimper, from a corner behind him, to drive it all away.
He swallowed hard, finally turning and squinting in the dim lighting to see Kalliandra cowering in the corner, knees drawn feebly to her chest, her golden hair spilling over them and her face buried within them.
Slowly his blood pressure rose, his foot grinding down even harder against the wench beneath him. Angelina would pay. He would see to it. But right now she was not his priority.
Kaylens was.
Throwing a piercing glare at Angelina he shoved his foot beneath her limp body, kicking her over onto her stomach. A second later he was on her back, dragging her hands behind her, pinning them together with his knee as he snatched up his wand, pointing it at her exposed wrists.
"Bindovera," he hissed, watching the snake-like ropes stream from its tip, slithering around her arms until she was bound up to her elbows. Dropping his wand he gave them a harsh tug, satisfied in the way the dark girl's skin chaffed, reddening even in the dark light.
"Exuberant, aren't we?"
He merely grunted in response, giving the ropes one final, callous tug as Remus began binding her legs.
A second later he was on his feet, an aching sensation spreading through him as he watched Kalliandra curling in the corner, incapable of remembering even her own name.
Gods...she wasn't in her right mind. And Remus had said she'd have to block out the unicorn's memories before she ever could be. How could anyone possibly...
And then it hit him.
She'd have to block them out.
The idea ignited swiftly, the things Dumbledore had taught him about Occlumency all coming together in a cohesive ball of knowledge. He had used it for himself, but could he do it for someone else?
He would be grasping at straws, but there was a chance...
Voldemort had given him plenty of practice at blocking unwanted memories.
His blood pumped purposefully, and he felt, more than saw, Remus rise besides him, looking morosely in the same direction as he.
"Well have to immobilize her again," He said regretfully, dimming the light from his wand as it sent Kaylens stirring uncomfortably.
"No," Harry answered immediately, voice filled with conviction. "I'll deal with her. You just get Angelina to Grimmauld."
Remus' brow furrowed at this, doubtful lines crisscrossing his face. His mouth opened, as if to protest, but
his uncertainties went unvoiced. Instead a thoughtful, critical expression befell him as he studied Harry's tense, determined face.
The lines on his face suddenly deepened. "Are you sure?"
Harry nodded, tense with anger at the entire situation, and filled with the need to do something about it.
"Yeah," he responded. "I've stunned her enough lately."
Lupin's conflicted expression remained, but he nodded decisively.
"Alright, take this then."
A second later a small pouch was being pressed into his hand, a sandy material grinding within it.
"It's a port key. Pour the contents..."
"Into our hands," Harry finished for him. "We've used this kind before."
Remus eyed him curiously, tilting his head to the side. "Well then, I'll see you there."
He nodded, watching as Remus unearthed another pouch from his pocket. He watched him crouch next to Angelina, sending him one last, pointed look before dousing his wand.
Shadows spilled around them, enshrouding the room in darkness once again. Rifling a hand nervously through his hair Harry forced a strained, unseen smile, and a second later Remus and the traitor blinked out of existence, leaving him with a single insane idea, one that he never could have done in Remus' presence.
And somehow he thought Remus had known that.
For a moment he did nothing, simply allowing his eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness. Then, slowly, the blackness gave way, revealing her vague, gray outline. Yet even in the shadows he saw the way her silhouette trembled.
He pulled his wand and immobilized her in one swift motion. Strangely he felt nothing, when even the thought of stunning her again had sent his stomach wrenching.
He crossed the room and knelt besides her, his rough hands gently cupping her face and turning it towards his. He felt sick, for he was violating her yet again. But God, what choice did he have?
For the second time that day her frightened eyes stared back at his, flickering with too many emotions to name. His thumbs gently brushed her hair away from her eyes, his heart thumping shamefully. She was like a frightened animal, and somehow this just felt wrong.
Yet he had to try. No one deserved this, and if his idea worked...
He might just be able to salvage enough of her to help her find her way back.
Staring into her eyes he hoped to God it would work.
"I swear to you," he whispered intently, "This is the last time I'll ever do this to you."
Licking his lips nervously he raised his wand, letting it hover inches from her skin. Closing his eyes he waited, allowing his mind to clear, calming himself.
Occlumency was not meant to be done with raw emotion.
His eyes snapped opened. He was ready.
"Legilimens!"
The twister-like effect of her mind seized him without remorse, sending his senses reeling as an assault of enhanced sounds and smells attacked him.
Thunder cracked through the swirling mist, sending his body crashing face first into the mud, and he immediately knew there was something different about this memory.
He staggered to his knees, peering through the incredibly dark, moonless night. Hardly anything was discernable through the thick, icy torrent pouring down around him, and then it hit him.
Every other memory he had seen had had a worn contrast, the intensity of emotions and events diluted by time. Dumbledore and Snape had been too skilled for him to peer into recent events, and luck-of-the-draw had shown him things from Kayelns' childhood. But this memory was different.
It felt fresh.
The harsh, biting wind sent the looming forest moving with an aberrant life, and above him lightning flashed, crackling across the blackened clouds, briefly illuminating the gravel road running past him. For a second the forest surrounding him came into stark focus, as did the wooden house he had landed before.
Again lightning set the area aglow, a deep shout snapping his eyes towards the small lawn.
What he saw made his blood run cold.
His training with Dumbledore had taught him that it was one's most painful memories that were flung to the forefront of the mind when it was invaded.
And now he knew that Kalliandra was no exception.
A grating voice preceded the flash of light, and he had just enough time to see a dark haired man struck down. The man tumbled head first into the muddied ground, the sound of his body slapping against the mud drowned out by a thunderous crack.
A blinding hot, fiery ball blew through the house's siding, sending floorboards flying to litter the lawn.
From inside came the screaming, drowned out by a hedonistic laugh.
"Muggle, muggle, muggle come out to play!"
Bile churned in his stomach, though there was no time for it to rise as people began pouring out of a side window.
"Aw, the wittle, ittle Muggles don't want to play?"
That taunting, familiar laugh of his nightmares greeted him as Bellatrix Lestrange stepped calmly out the front door, the burning home alighting her face with a hellish glow.
One of the fleeing figures bolted towards a car, parked along the gravel road near the forest's tree line.
He never made it.
A fiery spell smacked into him, setting his skin ablaze.
He had seen others die, but never before had he beheld someone as they burnt alive. Even the pouring torrent was not enough to douse the flames engulfing the man's flesh, and the wind hurled a noxious stench against his nostrils.
"MATT!"
A girl was rising from the muddied ground, thick grass stains streaked across her jeans, her brown hair matted against her head as she screamed hysterically. Her face was contorted into something inhuman, raw pain distorting incredibly striking features, and she appeared frozen in place.
Harry was screaming for her to move, but she never heard him. From around the corner of the home came two others clad in black, and a jet of searing purple light shot out.
Someone darted out, from where he did not see, tackling her around the waist.
The purple light missed her by inches as she and her rescuer went sliding across the ground, smacking into the side of the house with a dull thud.
The Death Eaters were on them in an instant, a loud crack resonating through the air as Harry ran forward, just in time to see a graying haired man's arm being viciously snapped. The gun the man had been pulling fell from his hand with a cruel slosh, the mud swallowing it whole. The dark haired girl was still screaming, clawing at her head as a burly Death Eater snatched her hair up, twisting it around his massive palms before dragging her across the lawn by it.
A sharp splinter broke the air, and the Death Eater assaulting the gray haired man went down. The older man struggled to his feet, slipping in the mud and cradling his arm.
"DAD!"
Lightning split the sky, catching onto the gray haired man's few remaining golden hairs. His face split into a horrified expression, and Harry followed his gaze.
Kalliandra, eyes ablaze, came barreling out from the tree line, a man barely older than him hot on her heels.
Both had striking golden-brown hair, their hues muted only by the precipitation pouring down around them. And Harry suddenly understood that he was seeing her second brother for the first time.
"KIDS GO! GET OUT OF HERE!"
The shout came from a second floor window, and Harry finally understood who had done the shooting.
A middle aged woman with light brown hair was hanging out of it, pistol in hand, and over the noise Harry could hear Bellatrix laughing hysterically.
Lightning split the sky, thunder drowning out the second, third, and fourth gunshots.
Kalliandra's mother could no longer be seen. Only the dim sound of the fifth and sixth gunshots firing off in the room told him that her attention had been drawn back inside the burning house.
Inside the house, where he could not hear, came the sequential clicking of empty chambers.
A loud scream carried through the window, followed by a body flying through the window's opening.
The woman hit the ground with a sickening thud, leaving the gray haired man yelling something that the thunder drowned out.
No time was wasted. Kalliandra's brother came sliding aside her mother, grasping the gun from her still twitching hands, sobbing as he started rifling through her clothing.
A second later a new round was in his hand, but he never had a chance to load it as Bellatrix apparated in front of him, kicking the round from his hand, sending individual bullets scattering to the wind.
The strobe effect of the lightning shielded what transpired next, but when it flashed again Bellatrix and Kalliandra were sliding to the ground, Kaylens clearly having tackled her.
"KALLY, NO!"
Her brother had leapt to his feet, and rushed to join the fray as his sister smashed Bellatrix's head into the ground repeatedly, screaming incomprehensible words.
Her brother reached her, grasping her by the back of her sweater and tossing her out of the way as he grasped Bellatrix's head in a vice grip from behind, preparing to break it.
The unheard pop of apparation prevented this as the burly man appeared behind him, swatting him away as if he were nothing more than an irritating child. Bellatrix fell to the ground, spitting brown water, her furious eyes rounding on the three remaining members of the Kaylens' family.
"Filthy Muggles!" she roared, shooting binding spells off at a furious pace, hitting the brother first.
"SEAN!" Their father's voice ripped through the air as ropes twisted around his son, sending him crashing to the ground right below the burly Death Eater's feet.
Kalliandra, having been thrown back by her brother, was still down in the mud. She didn't stand a chance.
Then her father slid in front of her, the ropes taking him right in the chest, and constricting around his neck and throat.
The house was quickly succumbing to the flames, the red light showcasing Bellatrix's fanatical smile as she tugged Kaylens' father away from her by his neck.
Her father was unable to claw at the ropes, for his arms had been pinned to his sides.
He was unconscious by the time Bellatrix had dragged him to her feet.
CRACK!
Another gunshot rang out, taking the burly man right in the head.
Kalliandra had gotten to her knees, hair plastered to her face, her arms outstretched and shaking.
Her hands held the gun, and Bellatrix regarded her with an amused expression.
The next shot was in Lestrange's direction, but a shimmering light halted the shot, sending the shell dropping to the ground less than a foot from her smirking face.
Kally looked stunned, and Bellatrix waggled a finger back and forth as if scolding a naughty child.
"Foolish wittle girls shouldn't play with guns," she cooed in a baby voice, suddenly beckoning towards Kally.
Kaylens was sent sprawling forward as an invisible force pulled the gun from her grasp, and a second later a new Death Eater was there, his foot on her back.
A gust of wind sent the new arrival's hood falling back, and Harry suddenly understood every word that she had uttered in the Three Broomsticks.
Ludo Bagman was there, standing on top of Kalliandra and looking rather out of place. Bellatrix fixed him with a death-like stare, her anger at his late arrival apparent, but there was no time for anything to be said.
Barely a second had transpired between his late arrival and his fall to the ground.
Kally had rolled over, kicking his legs out from under him.
Bellatrix rolled her eyes, and this time her binding spell did not miss.
Angry tears were rolling down his face, his fists taking swings at the crazed woman who had taken his Godfather. Somewhere his mind was screaming for him to stop, that it would do no good, but his subconscious' voice went unheeded.
"Crucio..."
And then the swirling, silver mist returned, swallowing up the images of Kally's brother convulsing beneath the unforgivable curse.
Harry was shaking, overcome with the horror of what he had just witnessed. And the memories were disorienting, rising up around him, swallowing him whole as they dislodged him from place to place in her life, never stopping long enough for him to gain his bearings.
Around him the crashing of hooves fought for precedence above the distant laughter. Hazy outlines flickered by, barely visible through the fog-like mist swirling around him. He was lost...
And then he saw himself, running from a Death Eater down the main, dusty thoroughfare of Hogsmeade. Red stunners shot out, smacking against a gutter, sending it swinging into the side of a second Death Eater that had emerged to block his progress.
She had saved him.
And that was all it took.
"ENOUGH!" he screamed, unsure of whether his voice only existed in her mind, or if his physical body were actually screaming it in Remus' living room.
Instantly he began focusing, searching for a memory, any memory, that was her own rather than some horned animal's. He fought to calm himself, squashing down the terror of what had happened to her to the back of his mind, and then he felt a change.
The swirling mist around him was slowing down, the uncontrolled torrent of the two lives combined into one mind becoming less disorienting.
He peered through them as they passed, one-by-one, searching for something that he could make out.
And then he found one.
He charged through the mist, falling out into the Forbidden Forest's clearing.
The one they had left before this had happened to her...
In the dim moonlight, cast from a sliver peaking through the clouds, he watched the replay of himself yanking his hand away from her. Hushed words were exchanged, and suddenly Kalliandra was rising from her spot besides the water, stalking away from him.
In a heartbeat his memory self was scrambling to his feet, going after her, catching onto her arm. She whirled to face him, an icy expression crossing her face, disappearing in shock as he swiftly pulled her against him.
He watched, an odd feeling twisting within him as she struggled against him, his only response in the way his arms wound even tighter around her, stroking her hair until her resistance ceased.
"I'm sorry…" he heard his own voice whispering, "I swear to God I'm sorry…"
And then her face was dropping against his shoulder, his own burrowing within her hair as her arms wound around him, holding him back.
It was as if a light wind blew, and then another memory squeezed through, the silvery substance sending the clearing image swirling.
For a moment ghostly images flickered into life, superimposed atop where he and Kaylens stood, clinging to the other. It was like looking through a film negative, trying to see what was beyond it.
The beautiful, alien clicking rose above his and Kaylens whispering, the foreign memories threatening to overtake this one, and the threat sent something ablaze inside him.
"No..." he hissed, his face contorting dangerously, as he began fighting to shove the foreign images that threatened to overtake her aside.
He couldn't allow them in. He couldn't.
Staggering odds were against him, but if he could only hold her in her own state of mind long enough...
Maybe it would be just enough to bring her back.
Grimacing he waved his hand, feeling the magic rising within him, rolling off of him as he tried desperately to summon something, anything that would block out those memories that were not hers.
The unicorn memories may have been weak, diluted imprints of the real thing, yet they were still there, fighting for precedence of her mind. And yet...
Fighting for the sanctity of his own mind against Voldemort had made keeping these silvery, diluted tendrils back a joke.
A determined expression crossed his face, a swift jolt rocketing through him as the bricks began to materialize. He stretched out his hands, willing them to begin stacking, watching them mount higher and higher, muting the sounds of a herd in the distance.
He would form a barrier between her memories and the unicorn's, and he'd be damned if he failed.
His hands were shaking again, a lone trickle of sweat dripping from his brow as he concentrated, directing the bricks to begin circling around him, stacking along the clearing's circumference.
And then, one-by-one, he began shoving the unicorn's memories past the wall. Each time one threatened to break in he shoved it away, a dull pain growing in the back of his mind, sending his head swirling as he refused to cease his efforts. His breathing grew ragged, his vision bespeckled with black dots as tendrils of the silvery mist fought to seep back through his hastily erected brick walls.
"No..." he whispered, and slowly, methodically, he shoved the last of the silvery threads through the gaps in the walls, feeling the muted sounds fading.
With a slam of finality he found himself surrounded on all sides by his walls, the memory still playing as if nothing had disturbed it.
Panting in exhaustion he crouched down, supporting himself on his knees, feeling his feet sinking into the dewy earth as he fought for breath. The walls might not hold for long, but for now...
Around him he could hear the distant calls of a herd, and he looked up shakily, watching dust crumbling down from the brick barriers. A lump formed in his throat as he watched the entire edifice shake, as memory after memory slammed against it from the outside, trying to break through.
He could feel his physical body shaking from the exertion, and as much as he desired to do more an unfeeling truth struck him.
He didn't know what else he could do.
And for the first time in her mind he withdrew willingly, the darkness of Remus' living room wrapping tightly around him. The moonlit clearing had been so bright in comparison and yet, his eyes had remained perfectly adjusted, his physical body having never left nor moved.
And she was still right there, inches separating him from her. His breath caught in his throat, the adrenaline he had been riding on struggling to remain high as he searched her face for a sign to show that some part, any part, of herself was back.
All he saw were the backs of her eyelids as they fell shut, a long breath escaping her lips.
At some point his entire body had begun shaking, a sharp headache nearly splitting his skull as he removed the binding spell from her, his magical exertions finally catching up to him.
But God, he didn't care. His hands rose to her face, a hand resting on either side as he smoothed a single stray lock away, tucking it behind her ear.
"Come on Kaylens..." he murmured, eyes bright and searching. His gaze was flickering back and forth across her face, watching her every movement, hoping against hope it had worked.
And then her eyelids opened, her eyes as disoriented as before. A choking sensation wrapped around his throat, his hands falling to rest on her stiffening shoulders. He had failed.
His forehead fell against hers in despair, the feel of her warm skin offering little comfort. He should've known it would not work, yet...
He never would have forgiven himself if he hadn't tried.
Slowly her legs slid against his, and his eyes squeezed shut, preparing himself for whatever out lash was about to occur. The memory of her recoiling away from him, scuffling away like a frightened animal when he had gotten too close, was all too fresh in his mind.
He waited for it with held breath, only nothing came.
His eyes opened, only to find hers staring back.
His muscles went taut with tension, his breath quickening as their proximity struck him. Her nose pressed against his, his hands firm on her shoulders, and a startling sensation churned in his chest as he watched her darkened eyes.
Within them something was changing, a flicker of familiarity residing there. His hand slid back to her face, anxiety etched in his features as her lips parted. Her mouth moved, as if trying to say something, only no words came.
He couldn't pull his gaze away if he tried.
"Merlin," he whispered, "I wish I knew what you were thinking."
She remained silent, but his eyes were drawn to a slight motion. Her hand rose, falling to rest on his unshaven cheek. She pulled away slightly, their foreheads no longer pressing together as her confused eyes flickered across his face, a curious expression befalling her.
His brow furrowed, a question forming on his lips.
"Kaylens?" he whispered, eyes searching hers desperately.
A distressed look crossed her features, her bottom lip drawing between her teeth, sending his heart thudding uncertainly.
And then she was nodding.
Suddenly she was in his arms, embraced tightly against his chest. She was trembling, enticing his own shaking arms to pull her even closer, the need to physically touch her overwhelming. Gods...he couldn't get her close enough.
The shock was finally hitting him, frightening him on too many levels to name as he realized how fleeting this could be.
She was with him again, but only until the walls he had created went tumbling down.
Merlin, how long did he have?
A tremor shook him, an urging need to get her to someone better than him, to someone who could do something, driving him.
He needed someone, someone like Dumbledore. He could strengthen the walls he'd put up inside her mind. He had to.
Fearing to release her for even a moment his arm tightened around her shoulders, his other reaching for the portkey in his pocket. A moment later his fingers were sliding through hers, his hopeful gaze locking onto her tormented one.
"Kaylens," he murmured intensely, "stay with me."
And then, hoping that she was coherent enough to understand what they were doing, he dumped the sandy contents onto their linked hands, feeling that distinctive tug.
In that last second he threw his arms around her, wanting to shield her from whatever harsh landing they were about to experience.