They were now forty-eight hours into the rescue effort. More dead than alive had turned up over the course of those lagging hours, and all hope was near diminished as dawn came a second time for the R. O. squads. Rain mixed with ice as it fell, leaving any extremities, whether in affective duty or at rest, numbed to the core. Spells of seeking and location were lost on benumb lips and chewed away by chattering teeth. Sweat blended together with rain and blood in wild surges of inhumane will and strength, but in the end all efforts were repaid only by finding faces with sightless eyes staring back at them, allowing tears to soon join the already deadly mix of mental and physical stress that pounded relentlessly upon those working the grounds. Tears were shed even for those of the other side; for all there knew that these people, regardless of their viewings and beliefs, were still undoubtedly loved by someone. They too were people; mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, friends, neighbors, and even old schoolmates. They were people, and although that fact was often lost in the events of war, they are never overlooked by the eyes of tragedy. Efforts were taken to obtund the situation, but it would be impossible to heal or make better of any long term damages faced by the people working these rigorous and all too extensive shifts. Really, only time would tell. One thing was certain, when all of this was over with, they would all walk away as victims.

R. O. Leader Roy Ochoa was no exception to these circumstances. He awaited news while perched upon a beaten up Chevy; an old Ministry car used in problematic terrain or extreme emergencies, and only when nothing better could be found. A cigarette was in one hand and a flask filled with scotch in the other. His eyes were bloodshot; one twitched spasmodically from time to time as his body quivered from minor convulsions on occasion. With his nerves now noticeably getting the better of him, many were predicting that Ochoa would be the next one carried away on a stretcher. It wasn't until Zayara Mondragon ordered him to a med-tent that everyone else allowed their worries to ease, at least as far as their commander was concerned. However, there was still little to be done for the countless dead and several others still missing. More and more volunteers poured in by the hour to relieve those who were digging, yet it never seemed to be enough. The consistent reminders that openly mocked their uncountable failures were beginning to press all too deeply into their minds. That is, until a call sounded out of the rubble from a worker who had been trying to create useful openings in the ceiling of what most had anticipated to be the basement-dungeon area.

"We've got some live ones down here!"

This immediately captured the attention of others, and soon half of the multitude stood gathered around a tiny hole in the ceiling of MacMurphy's dungeons. What their eyes saw astonished even the most hardened veterans of the Rescue and Recovery outfits. Below their feet lay a black dog who barked relentlessly for their attention. By his side was a shattered body that at a first glance could not be immediately classified as dead or alive. The dog, however, was not overlooked, for one person immediately recognized the battered creature as the animagi form of Sirius Black. Another made the estimate that the body at his side was none other than his godson; Harry Potter. When this information was relayed to the Ministry o Magic and other authority figures who were on sight, the go ahead was quickly given. "Do whatever you can to get them out of there."

Laborers called Zayara Mondragon and Roy Ochoa, who immediately began putting together teams. R. O. Operatives began using spells to clear access rafters and debris out of the way. When those failed, many resorted to physical power. Someone had suggested bringing in teams of hippogriffs to assist in the work effort, but with the time limit they had to get their new vics, a team of burden bearing beasts would never arrive in time. They would have to make due with what they had. No argument was given. They all understood the newfound severity of the situation. TO find the dead was one matter, but to find the living only to get to them too late, that was an entirely different matter. This rescue would determine everything for all contributing personnel. If they didn't make this one, they had failed. This was it. This was everything Ochoa and his guys needed. They couldn't fail. Not this time.

Within minutes of locating their star survivors, Ochoa'a team had successfully cleared an opening in the dungeons wide enough for a small team of MMTs to fit through. As of that moment, it was up to Mondragon and her people to go down there, assess the situation at hand, triage if necessary, and bring their victims back alive. If there was more than one she would be forced to call in more, but as of that moment, Mondragon was concerned only with the two present patients that were now being laid fully in her hands. She and a team of four others had themselves equipped to the max within minutes. One by one, they levitated down tot he dungeon to prepare for all necessary procedures.

"Be careful," Ochoa cautioned her. Zayara said nothing, just winked as she levitated down into the murky darkness of the dungeons as her partner gave the go ahead.

"What do we have, Tanis?" she asked before her feet had even touched the ground. Zayara immediately began to push her way through the fallen rafters, analyzing her patient in much the same way as a muggle paramedic. She checked for a pulse, heart rate, and blood pressure, and tested for muscle reflexes, even attempting to take an estimate of how much blood the boy had lost. "Tanis, get me an oxygen mask, an IV, and three bags of regenerative elixirs; one with sanguine fluid, another for dehydration, and another for malnutrition." Tanis responded in perfect mechanical order. Together, the two of them inserted needles and cast levitation spells for the IVs to float. "Tanis!" Zayara commanded as she stood to move to where the boy's head lay. "You and Kylie take him and get him to the med tents and then to a hospital. Apparate to Mungo's if possible."

"We can't," Tanis stated with a sigh.

Zayara frowned. "Why not?"

Her partner pointed to the shaft of wood that almost literally had the victim's shin split in two. The tibia was not quite fully exposed, and given a quick estimate Zayara was confident in her assumption that the wound was severely infected. The leg itself would most likely have to be amputated.

"Shit," she spat, overlooking the situation with delicate concern. "Keep his vitals stable. Kylie!"

The young trainee stiffened as her name was called. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Go find Roy. Tell him we're going to need a disassembly team down here and fast."

The woman nodded and was gone through the hole in the rafters in an instant. Zayara moved to see on the treatment of the dog.

It was a rather unnerving sight, really. The black dog was covered in mud and blood. It's body shook with every breath, and low, guttural growls issued from its throat every time medical lieutenant Price Gallagher came too close. The creature looked over at them from time to time as if to question why they weren't paying more attention to their more seriously injured patient. Sighing, Zayara kneeled down beside the dog, straining to ignore the threatening tone in the dog's snarls.

"Sirius," she spoke clearly. The dog's ears twitched slightly, but its gaze remained fixated on the young boy on the floor. "Sirius, let us help you." No reaction. Zayara swallowed and met the eyes of the lieutenant. Knowing the risk, she lifted up her hand and settled it gently between the dog's ears. There was a human underneath their. Overprotective, but still intelligent, and somewhere he knew the risks of him staying there when Harry needed all of the medical attention these technicians could give to him. "Sirius, you can't stay here. I know you want to, but we need to treat your godson. We can't have you to worry about down here as well. It'll be a danger to your godson and yourself." She paused. There seemed to be a slight softening in the dog's eyes. "He needs you to cooperate with us." After a few seconds, Zayara nodded. Price, understanding, lifted a syringe and slipped it into Sirius' foreleg. At that second, however, all hell broke loose. The dog snarled and snapped. White foam like venom dripped from sharp canines, and a maddened red glare lit what was once softened, brown eyes. Price's arm was pinned against his chest in seconds, and he was being dragged against his will towards Harry's limp form.

Zayara cursed and lifted her wand. She paralyzed the creature instantly, and with some help from Tanis was able to free Price from the gargantuan grip of the dog's jowl. Panting and sweating, the bleeding paramedic kicked himself away from the beast as quickly as he could, favoring his right arm which was now bleeding heavily from the wrist to mid forearm. He would need treatment for an injury of that degree. Zayara bound the wound as tightly as she could then ordered him and Salem Rugg, a medical practitioner for over twenty years but with no rank to speak of, to take the paralyzed animal to the surface. "Give him a sleeping elixir and then treat him for possible injuries. Make sure he's mentally stable. An attack like that isn't normal, even for him in this condition."

Salem nodded. He finished the injection that Price had started before their ghastly ordeal, then with his fellow paramedic leaning on his shoulder and a limp animal under his arm (Salem was a strong and rather large man) they floated up through the opening above, leaving Zayara and Tanis with one very injured boy.

"What do we do?" asked Mondragon's partner, as if to emphasize this fact even furthermore. Zayara ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Kylie should have been back by now. They were running out of time.

Remus was capable of sitting up without assistance when they dragged a strange looking animal through the opening of the main medical tent. Two MTs as well as a flurry of doctors were working on the creature that was so mysteriously important to them all as far as the observer in the corner could tell. Remus couldn't understand for the life of him why it was so significant to them all that this creature survive. Was the death toll so serious now that they were giving first class medical attention to local strays? What was going on? What was he missing? Surely there was a larger piece to this puzzle.

There was no way he could get any answers, of course, with half of the medical staff milling about. So, he decided to lay back and observe the situation as casually as possible. Perhaps, with some luck, things would make sense in their own time. Not that luck was all that familiar to him these days.

A tap on his shoulder, however, provided an immediate distraction to his already disconcerted mind. Looking up, Remus saw a familiar and welcome face peering down at him. There was no smile to be found, but that wasn't really a very uncommon factor. Especially not in this place.

"Hagrid!" he greeted as cheerfully as possible. "When did you get in?"

"Been here for a while, professor," the giant responded glumly. Remus sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not a professor anymore," he complained lightly. "And you never bothered to visit me?"

"Didn' know yeh were here till just now,"

"I was joking, Hagrid." Remus' grin quickly faded. So much for the light facade. There was no use in pretending that something wasn't wrong. "Have you rested at all?"

The giant shook his head. "No," he replied as his beetle black eyes fell upon their newest patient.

"You should go then. Rest up. You look as though you need it."

A long paused followed that statement. Hagrid sat almost completely transfixed with the medics working on the creature that had been brought in not too long ago. Remus followed his gaze, not completely understanding the significance of the giant's actions, whether intentional or unintentional. At least, not until...

"Hagrid?"

Without missing a beat, the giant spoke up. "They found him, professor."

His brow knitted in confusion, and for the first time, Remus Lupin didn't notice that someone had called him by his former title in casual conversation. "Found who?"

"Harry."

Remus paused to consider this. His eyes diverted all of a sudden unintentionally to the creature on the table. Suddenly, everything made sense. The madness, the constant hollering outside...they'd finally rescued that which they had come for! It also explained the dog; or Sirius, more likely. He must have found Harry just before the collapse. But if they had found them both, why wasn't Harry in the med tents as well? Were they just now bringing him in? Maybe in another tent? Or perhaps...something else?"

"Where is he?"

Hagrid shook his head, sighing sadly.

"They're still pullin' him out."

"Of the keep?"

The giant nodded. Remus could only sigh. If they weren't moving Harry right away then something was definitely wrong.

"Have they told you anything?"

Again, Hagrid just shook his head. Remus groaned and slammed his skull into the headstand angrily. His patience were wearing thin already with this eternal guessing game. Now they were deadly close to their goal, only to be left wondering if they were going to make it in time.

"How long?"

"Half an hour."

He watched helplessly as they carted Sirius off to another tent. He was still in his animagi form. Soon, night would be upon them, and with it the north Atlantic air and rain. If Harry's condition was serious, it would be nothing compared to what it was going to become.

Remus lay back down on his cot, and Hagrid moved back outside in hopes of finding a way to help the newly acquired rescue effort. Sleep would not come for the man. With Sirius in such severe conditions as it was, and Harry most likely fighting for his life, there was no way his raging mind would allow him to rest.

It was going to be a long, long night.

Zayara peered up through the opening a third time. Her patience were gradually fraying down into nothing. Where the hell was Kylie? They needed that team down here! As medics, neither Zayara or Tanis could determine whether or not destroying this rafter would be prudent or provoke a massive cave in! That was why Zayara had sent their new intern to retrieve the team. Either something had happened or Kylie had forgotten. Regardless, Zayara would make sure that before the night was over that her new intern never worked in the medical field again, magical or muggle.

"Damn it!" she spat. The once humid, stuffy air was being drawn out and being replaced with cold, damp air. Soon there vic would be dead, either from pneumonia or blood loss, whichever came first at this point.

"Zayara!"

The chief medic whirled on one heel to face down her assistant.

"What?" She snapped, more harshly than she had originally intended. No words were needed, however, upon seeing the look in her partner's eyes. The boy was dying. Their time had run out. It was time to make a very risky decision.

All at once, Zayara removed her wand from her belt, threw Tanis over the body, and sent a spell riveting up the wooden shaft. Bright white light pulsated through every fiber and splinter. Within seconds it had exploded, leaving nothing, not even an inkling of proof that it had ever existed...save for the gaping hole in their vic's leg.

"Get him out of here!" She yelled while wiping some blood out of her eyes. Shards had flown everywhere, and she had left herself completely unprotected. Tanis was shaken but otherwise fine, and as far as their patient went, well, splinters and cuts were the least of his worries right now. Tanis cupped the boy's torso in his arms, when without warning a high pitched whining from stone and wood pressing firmer and firmer together began to scream outward in an ethereal death song. Dust snaked through the overhead debris, and shouts could he beard from those on the surface.

With one horrendous, vociferous snap, the ceiling caved in on top of them.

All right. That only took a friggin' eternity.

Sorry if I lost you guys in some of the medical terminology, or just completely confused you all together. I have no experience or education in the medical field, but I've watched enough of Third Watch to know standard procedure.

This probably isn't all that great, mostly because I don't give a damn anymore. I'm not even going to take the effort to proof read it. This story is getting so tedious...I don't know how you guys have the willpower to keep up with it...

But I thank you nonetheless. Thank you everyone! Especially Dianne who always makes me smile with every review. Many hugs to you, hon! And I promise I'll get to reading your story again! I've been so busy I can't find my head some days. I keep loosing it in all those clouds. (winks)

Take care, everyone! TBC...