Author's Note: Updated (minor edits) as of February 2020.
Previous 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 the original version of it for me (way, way, waaaaay back in the day), 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!
Chapter 21 ~ To Hell with Decorum
"My respect is earned, not given."
ECOTS
With a flick of his wrist the candles went out.
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.
And Harry really didn't give a shit about any of it.
His heel remained solidly planted against Angelina's throat, the witch making dying sounds, but Harry scarcely noticed any of it. He didn't notice the thick scent of burnt wax. He didn't notice the smoke curling up from the extinguished candles. He didn't notice Remus shouting at him to stop.
Anger pumped through his veins and with a hate he hadn't thought possible he glared down at his former teammate. In the past his callous actions would have sickened him, but now?
Things were different.
Harry's outstretched hand shook and barely restrained magic crackled across his skin. It burned, searing at his flesh. Angelina, Fred's girlfriend, his Quidditch teammate, a Gryffindor, writhed beneath him and Harry snapped his wand out and down and glued her legs to the floor.
Everything ran through his head in successive order, the betrayal that much worse because of it.
She'd helped a Death Eater harm a unicorn. There'd been ink on her forearm. Angelina was the only one who could have done this to Kaylens and the Order had trusted her! He'd trusted her. She'd drugged him; she had to of. It was why he'd slept the way he had, straight through whatever she'd done to Kaylens, and it was his fault she was hurt. He should have protected her!
Too many people had died, been hurt, all because of him, and Harry was fucking done with it.
A sizzling started, steam rising from his forehead as his still damp hair fell against it, and Harry didn't even notice.
But he did notice something else, something new. A feeling rose up within him: a dark, powerful, vengeful feeling. And the scary thing was…
Harry liked it.
He kept his foot on her neck until she stopped. Eventually Angelina just stopped, and Harry held his foot there a second longer than necessary. The pressure of his heel bleached her dark skin beneath it, driving out the blood and color, and he honestly didn't care. Her trachea was bent inwards, and all he could think about was if she'd done this, what else had she done?
A voice in the back of his mind, one that sounded scarily like Hermione, shouted at him that that was enough.
He jerked his foot away, and Angelina's lips let out a wheezing, whistling breath.
Other than that she didn't move.
As usual, even his 'head case' Hermione had been right. Her dead would do him no good. He intended to find out all he could from the treacherous wench.
Harry stepped off her body and crouched low, inspecting her to ensure that she was unconscious and staying that way. He wasn't about to make a mistake again. He'd made one tonight when he'd trusted her, and it'd been costly. Kaylens had paid the price.
Bearing the cold look he'd ever had he watched 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. Because if he did…
They'd take them out.
Kaylens was down. Harry was partly at fault. Voldemort had struck yet another blow against their side.
Swallowing back a nauseous wave of revulsion he reached out, touching the tainted witch's skin. He shoved her head to the side and 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 intend to Harry, but is Angelina okay?"
"I sure as hell hope not."
A loud swallow preceded Remus' next, tense words.
"What are you planning on doing?"
"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. "You're sure?"
A cold grimace crossed his features. "No. I decided to stomp out her throat because I thought my boot needed breaking in."
There was an agonizing pause, and a sick, uneasy dread rose in his stomach. Remus didn't believe him. If Lupin wouldn't, no one would.
"I'll bind her. She'll have to be taken to headquarters."
Harry's head bolted around, shock written over every inch of his face. "You believe me." Even in the dim light he could see the slight movement of Remus' shadow nodding.
"Harry," he sounded almost hurt, "I always believe you."
His brow 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 why you had attacked her in the first place. It would have been a very Sirius-like thing to do."
The thought struck him hard, harder than he would have liked, because Sirius was gone.
"Yeah," he said, and his words sounded hollow, "it would have."
In the glow of the wand Lupin smiled sadly. Harry grimaced back, feeling shakier than he would have thought possible only minutes before, but that didn't matter.
Remus believed him.
He'd never been in his life, not in any significant way that would have mattered. He'd been absent that summer. He'd been absent a lot.
But he'd watched his back in third year. He'd tried to avenge his parents, when he'd tried to kill Pettigrew. But most importantly, he believed him.
Without question.
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.
That sensation cut past the sizzling in his scar, past the hate deep in his veins, and Harry managed a stiff nod, not sure what to say.
All it took was a soft whimper, from a corner behind him, to drive it all away.
Harry's head jerked around and he squinted in the dim light. Kaylens was still in the corner, cowering, knees once again drawn feebly to her chest, her golden hair spilling over them and her face buried within.
Slowly his blood pressure rose. 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 undid the glue charm and 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.
She wasn't in her right mind.
He didn't care.
He'd help her. This was his fault. He had to fix this.
Harry racked his mind for a way. Remus had said the cause of insanity in those patients was inability to separate the animal's memories from their own. Theoretically she'd have to block out the unicorn's memories if she wanted her mind back. How anyone could possibly do that though…
And then it hit him.
She'd have to block them out.
It was so ridiculously easy. It had come so quickly he doubted it for a millisecond.
And then he didn't.
Right now they had nothing to lose.
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. Why couldn't he do it for her?
His blood pumped purposefully, and he felt, more than saw, Remus rise besides him, looking morosely in the same direction as he. "We'll 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." He wet his lips. "When she's back don't know about you, but I'd really like her to not be pissed at me."
Lupin's conflicted expression remained, but eventually he nodded.
"Alright, take this then."
A small pouch was 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. "Yeah, I know. We've used this kind before."
Remus eyed him curiously, tilting his head to the side, and for a second he looked every bit the part wolf he was.
Ultimately all he did was agree. "In that case, Harry," his eyes flickered towards Kaylens, "get her, and I'll see you both there."
Harry 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 Lupin 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 Moony had known that.
For a moment Harry did nothing, simply allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Slowly, the blackness gave way, revealing her vague, gray outline. Yet even in the shadows he saw the way her silhouette trembled.
For the millionth time Harry thought about how much he hated this.
He pulled his wand and immobilized her in one swift movement. Strangely he felt nothing, when even the thought of stunning her again had sent his stomach wrenching. But if this worked, he'd let her punch him later for it. He'd half deserve it.
He crossed the room and knelt beside her, his rough hands gently cupping her face and turning it towards his. He was violating her again, but fuck, what choice did he have?
For the second time that day her frightened eyes stared back into his, flickering with too many emotions to name. His thumbs gently brushed her hair away from her eyes, his heart thumping. 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 hissed at Sirius and his parents for help, because he needed this to work. He left Merlin out of it this time; that bastard never helped anyway.
Harry looked at Kaylens with the intensity he had before a Quidditch match. "I swear to you," he promised, "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 Kaylens' 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 surrounding forest came into stark focus, as did the wooden house he had landed in front of.
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. It explained why he'd seen Snape being ridiculed by his father, and the man's interactions with his own mother from childhood all the way through their schooling. Lilly had been a person he had loved and had lost, to not just James Potter, but to death itself.
Those were painful memories to Snape, and when he'd been stressed by Harry delving into his mind, attacking back, those are what he had seen. They'd shaped Snape into the greasy bastard he was, and no matter how much the Potions master might want to deny that, it was the ironclad truth.
Those were the memories that haunted him, and they were always at the forefront of his mind. Dumbledore had been right about that 'rule'.
And Harry now knew that Kaylens was no exception.
Harry saw a dark haired man get struck down. The man tumbled head first into the muddied ground, the sound of his body slapping against it drowned out by a thunderous crack.
A blinding hot, fiery ball blew through the house's siding, sending planks blasting out, flying through the wind and rain like pieces of shrapnel until they smashed down on the wet grass, littering the lawn.
From inside came screaming.
It was drowned out by a hedonistic laugh.
"Muggle, Muggle, Muggle come out to play!"
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, and Bellatrix Lestrange stepped calmly out the front door, the burning home lighting up her face with a hellish glow.
One of the fleeing figures bolted towards a car, parked along the gravel road.
He never made it.
A fiery spell struck and set him on fire.
Harry had seen death, but he'd never seen someone burn alive. Even the pouring torrent wasn't enough to douse the flames engulfing the man's flesh, and the wind hurled a noxious stench against his nostrils. It was sickly sweet and stomach churning, reminding him of months old rotting meat.
"MATT!"
A girl he didn't recognize slipped on the lawn, thick grass stains streaked across her jeans. Her brown hair was matted against her head as she screamed hysterically, but for all her screaming she didn't move. She just stood there, scared and frozen in place.
A searing jet of purple came out of nowhere.
Someone darted out from behind another parked car and tackled 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.
Another person came barreling out of the house, arm pointed at the Death Eaters, a trigger pulled.
There was a pop. Harry thought the sound of a gun should be louder, but it wasn't.
The shot missed, smashing into the ground between two Death Eaters and scattering water up like a small explosion had gone off just beneath the surface.
That was followed by a resonating crack.
The man with the gun had golden hair, streaked heavily with gray. Harry recognized him immediately: Kaylens' father. He was trying to rescue the teenagers.
The man's arm snapped in half, white-ish bone sticking out of mangled muscles. He'd had that gun in his hand, but the spell solved that problem. With his arm mutilated he lost his grip and the gun fell slowly down, landing in the flooding lawn with a loud slosh, the mud swallowing it whole.
The dark haired girl kept screaming, clawing at her head as a burly Death Eater snatched at her hair, twisting it around his massive palms before dragging her across the lawn by it.
The other Death Eater rounded around on Kaylens' father and smiled.
They stalked towards him…
A sharp splinter broke the air, and that Death Eater went down. Kaylens' father struggled to his feet, slipping in the mud and cradling his arm, the contortions of his face telling Harry everything he needed to know about just how hard he was trying to stay conscious.
"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.
Kaylens, eyes ablaze, had come barreling out from the tree line, a man barely older than her hot on her heels.
Both had striking golden-brown hair, their hues muted only by the heavy rain, and Harry suddenly understood that he was seeing her second brother properly for the first time.
"KIDS GO! GET OUT OF HERE!"
The shout came from a second floor window, and Harry finally understood who had fired that shot.
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.
She loved this.
Thunder drowned out the second, third, and fourth gunshots.
Something happened and Kalliandra's mother ducked back in the house. Harry heard the dim sound of the fifth and sixth gunshots, but he didn't hear the sequential clicking of empty chambers as the woman ran out.
A body flew out through the window's opening, Kaylens' mother lifted and thrown like she was a mere paperweight.
She hit the ground outside with a sickening thud, her body bent at an angle no human could survive.
The father stumbled forwards, wearing an expression Harry would never wish on anyone. The man choked on his own tongue, gasping and crying and shouting all at once. He was in shock. He wasn't functioning.
Kaylens' brother came skidding out into the open, dropping down besides their mom. He didn't try to revive her. He didn't even check to see if she was alive. He just grabbed the gun out of her still twitching hands, sobbing as he started rifling through her clothing.
He unearthed another round, but he never had a chance to load it. Bellatrix apparated in front of him, kicking it out of 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.
Harry could only watch the scene transpire. He flat out stared, not comprehending what he was seeing.
They were killing her family in front of her. Again. Death Eaters were attacking, butchering, yet Kaylens didn't stop. She hadn't cowered. She hadn't backed down.
Instead she'd tackled Bellatrix to the mother-fucking ground, grabbed her by the back of her black hair, and begun bashing her face over and over into the mud.
"KALLY, NO!"
Her brother had leapt to his feet and rushed to join the fray, and Kaylens just kept smashing Bellatrix's head into the ground, screaming incomprehensible words.
Her brother reached Kaylens, grabbing her by the back of her sweater and tugging her up hard. He tossed her to the side like she weighed nothing, throwing himself on top of the bitch that had killed Sirius, grabbing Bellatrix's head in a vice grip and preparing to break her neck.
The unheard pop of apparation prevented that.
A burly man appeared directly behind Kaylens brother and swatted him away as if he were nothing more than an irritating child. B
ellatrix 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 face, 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 straight down.
Her father was unable to claw at the ropes, for his arms had been pinned to his sides, a bone still sticking out.
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. His head snapped back, and the wizard hovered there eerily, suspended for a long moment on non-working legs.
Then the wizard sunk straight to the ground with one great big splash.
Kalliandra had gotten to her knees, hair plastered to her face, her arms outstretched and shaking. And that gun, the one her brother had tried to load, was in her hands.
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 the bitch's 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 Muggle toys," she cooed in a baby voice, beckoning her wand at Kaylens.
An invisible force jerked the gun from her grasp and Kaylens was sent sprawling forward. A second later a new Death Eater was there, his foot on her back, pinning her to the mud, and it was obvious that it was all about to end.
The man standing on top of her was bigger and stronger than her. Kaylens didn't stand a chance.
A gust of wind sent the new arrival's hood falling back, and in that instant Harry suddenly understood every word Kaylens had uttered in the Three Broomsticks.
Ludo Bagman stood there, his foot planted on Kalliandra's back, the wizard 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.
At some point Harry had snapped. 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.
He screamed for them, but they were torn away from him in a swirling mist.
Harry was shaking, overcome with the horror of what he had just witnessed. 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. 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.
It was another one of Kaylens memories, from the day before.
She had saved him.
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 mist slowed down, the uncontrolled torrent of the two lives combined into one mind suddenly less disorienting.
He peered through the memories as they passed, one-by-one, searching for something that he could make out, something he could hold onto, something he could work with.
And then he found one.
He charged through the mist and fell out into the Forbidden Forest's clearing.
He'd been there hours ago, before her mind had been violated.
In the dim moonlight, cast from a sliver peeking 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 wheeled around 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 deep inside as he watched all of this like an outsider. Kaylens struggled against him, his only response the way his arms wound even tighter around her, stroking her hair until she stopped.
"That came out wrong," he heard his own voice whispering. "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 that threat sent something ablaze inside him.
Not like this. Kaylens wouldn't get taken. Not like this.
Too many people had already died for him, been hurt for him, and now Kaylens mind was being threatened because of him.
With a single word spoken inside her mind, Harry declared his intent that he'd had enough.
"NO!"
With a slash of his wand and a quick spell he lasso-ed the foreign images that threatened to overtake her mind and smashed them off to the side. He couldn't allow them in. He couldn't. He did this again and again, throwing them in directions even he didn't understand, but what he did know was that he was getting rid of them. He knocked and batted and shoved and lasso-ed them away with undiluted magic until the clearing was all that was left.
And then when they tried to burst back in, he did it all over again. Harry did it again, and again, until sweat dripped down his face.
Staggering odds were against him, but his goal was simple: if he could only hold her in her own state of mind long enough, then maybe, just maybe it might be just enough to bring her back.
Harry clung to that thought; he held out hope.
And then he bashed through the next set of unicorn memories like a battering ram.
The unicorn memories were weaker and diluted; they were imprints of the real things, but they still fought for precedence. In the end it hardly mattered. He'd been fighting for the sanctity of his own mind against Voldemort for months now, and all of that practice against a highly trained and powerful dark wizard made keeping these silvery, diluted tendrils back child's play.
The clearing came into sharp focus, and for a second Kaylens' mind was completely and entirely hers. Harry could see himself holding her, dragging her against his chest as they settled in by that tree, ready to sleep, hours before the werewolves attacked.
Harry seized the chance.
A determined expression crossed his face, a swift jolt rocketing through him as the bricks began to materialize. Harry stretched out his hands, willing them to begin stacking, watching them mount higher and higher, muting the sounds of a herd in the distance.
Harry stacked the bricks around the clearing and let his magic pour out and into them. He would form a barrier within her mind, separating her memories and the unicorn's, and he'd be damned if he failed.
His hands were shaking, 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 with increasing speed. It was working; it was getting easier.
And then, one-by-one, he began shoving the unicorn's memories past that 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, but they didn't stand a fucking chance.
He'd fought Voldemort inside his own mind; he wasn't about to lose to a glorified pony.
Again he declared his intent. "NO!"
Harry didn't know how long he remained there. He didn't know how long he worked, how hard he fought, but it seemed like days.
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. The walls stretched protectively up, the memory of he and Kaylens quite literally cuddling as they slept 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.
They assaulted Kaylens mind again and again, as if they had a claim to it.
Harry's physical body shook with exertion, and as much as he wanted to do more, an unsettling truth struck him.
He didn't know what else he could do.
He withdrew from her mind 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.
Kaylens was still there, inches separating him from her.
His breath caught in his throat, the adrenaline he had been riding on leaving like a popped balloon. He struggled to remain sitting upright, but the lack of sleep, the fighting, the magical exertion and what he suspected was an Angelina-induced-sleeping-drought-drugging were finally catching up to him.
Harry grabbed a hold of the wall behind her head, and searched her face for a sign, any sign that might 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 fumbled for his wand, removing the binding spell from her. Black dots danced in front of his vision, the warning sign nearly lost given how dark the room itself already was. All the running, all the spell casting, all the mind-invasions…
It was catching up with him.
He didn't care. His fingers flexed against the wall, Harry leaning heavily on it, and his other hand slid to the side of her face. He smoothed a single stray lock away, tucking it behind her ear.
"Come on, Kaylens..." he said, eyes bright and searching. His gaze flickered back and forth across her face, watching her every movement, hoping against hope it had worked.
For the longest time Kaylens did nothing.
And then, just when he was about to give up, drop the hell back onto his knees to collapse, her eyelids opened. Despite his bone deep exhaustion his gaze locked onto hers like lasers, but Kaylens' eyes…
They were 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 wouldn't work.
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, but nothing came.
Harry let out a ragged breath, his gaze cracking open…
He found hers staring back.
Harry Potter stared at Kalliandra Kaylens, and she stared right back. His muscles went taut with tension, his breath quickening at their proximity. He'd gotten close, leaning against her, pinning her between him and the wall as they sat there, awkwardly on the floor. 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.
Harry's hand slid right 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 out. It was too dark to even try to read her lips, but fuck…
They were so, so close.
He couldn't pull his gaze away if he tried.
"Merlin," he whispered, thumb rubbing her cheek, "I wish I knew what you were thinking."
She remained silent, but his eyes were drawn to a slight motion. Her hand was moving, slowly, as if she were no longer certain how to use it.
It fell to rest on his unshaven cheek, the rough stubble coarse against her smooth palm. She pulled away slightly, their foreheads no longer pressing together, and 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 over her features, shadowing them, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth and gnawed on, the entire thing sending his heart thudding uncertainly.
And then she was nodding.
Kaylens was looking at him, and she was nodding.
She knew who she was.
Suddenly she was in his arms, embraced tightly against his chest. Harry didn't even remember moving. Maybe he'd grabbed her; maybe she'd thrown herself at him. It didn't matter. What did was that every centimeter of her was trembling against him, quivering like a leaf in a storm, enticing him to crush her to him. Harry couldn't explain it, but the need to physically touch her was overwhelming. 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 within her mind went tumbling down.
How long did he have?
A tremor shook him, an urgent need to get her to someone better than him, to someone who could do something else, rising up. 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 said intensely, "stay with me."
She said nothing, but she looked pained, scared.
And then she managed an infinitesimal nod that sent his chest soaring.
He released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Harry squeezed her hand, that tingling he was beginning to associate with her playing across the surface of his skin where her hand touched his, and he hoped that she was coherent enough to understand what they were doing.
He didn't waste any more time. He dumped the sandy contents onto their linked hands, feeling that distinctive tug behind his bellybutton.
In that last second he threw his arms around her, wanting to shield her from whatever harsh landing they were about to experience.
ECOTS
"Harry!"
Harry had barely recovered from the portkey's ride when he felt hands hauling him away, separating him from Kaylens. He blinked, only slightly dazed, and found himself strewn across the dark wooden paneling of Grimmauld Place's study.
The hell of it was, he could hardly see a thing.
"How is she?"
In the dim light cast from a wall-mounted candelabra he saw Lupin's shadow drop down between them, placing a hesitant hand on Kalliandra's shoulder. Harry could only see the werewolf's profile, but judging from his expression, Remus looked genuinely surprised when Kaylens did not immediately pull away.
Harry's eyes cut through the darkness, finding hers.
Something warm swelled within him when he realized that she was looking right back, scarcely a hint of confusion within her expression. Disbelievingly he watched the candlelight dance in her glossy orbs, and for a brief second he was able to believe that she may just pull through with her sanity intact.
"Harry!"
Remus' sharp voice cut through the silent room, drawing both pairs of teenage eyes to the worried adult.
Harry found his voice quickly. "We need an Occlumens. Right away."
Remus' head jolted around, the reflective layer behind his eyes shining. "Harry, what did you do?" he asked uneasily.
His shoulders stiffened, and in that single loaded question he found his resolve.
"What I had to."
There was an agonizing pause, not dissimilar to what had transpired between them before Remus had left for Grimmauld, when his one-time professor had made the decision to trust him.
The man grimaced, and then he was on his feet, nodding at Harry. "Stay with her."
"The thought of leaving never crossed my mind," he replied honestly, scooting across the floor back to her. The sound of a swinging door, and the voices beyond it, drifted in, but Harry scarcely noticed.
"Kaylens," he whispered, reaching hesitantly for her. With trepidation his fingers slowly curled around her upper arms, whilst his eyes swept searchingly over her face. "You still with me?"
Taking in her every movement he watched her eyes flutter exhaustedly, her chest and shoulders rising as she drew in a fatigued sigh.
And then the insufferable girl fixed him with an exasperated look, nodding tiredly.
Relief swept through him. Immediately his hands found her face, the pads of his thumbs moving along her cheekbones. He simply stared at her, watching the amusement in her gaze only grow.
Merlin...he had been afraid that the swirl of the portkey would disorient her, cause her to lose whatever fledgling bits of sanity she had managed to grasp onto. Hell...he vividly recalled their last portkey ride, and that alone had rendered her unconscious.
He stared at her, his eyes boring into her bemused, albeit sleepy, expression.
Slowly her hand rose, finding where his rested against her cheek, her fingers curling gently around his own. She pressed them against her skin, as if giving him permission to touch her, voicing not one complaint.
He squeezed her hand back, finding reassurance he hadn't even known he'd needed in her actions.
Had he been asked a month ago, he never would have guessed that he would be feeling Kalliandra Kaylens, of all people, squeezing his hand in hers. But more than that, he never would have thought that such a simple, innocuous gesture could send his chest stirring.
He swallowed hard, watching the hint of a smile form on her lips. His hand immediately flipped over, taking her cold hand more firmly in his, and tightened his grip on her.
"You're finding this amusing, aren't you?" he accused quietly, his voice unnaturally constricted.
Her mouth parted, only to shut again, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she began nodding.
And then he saw it. Amidst her expression was a flicker of fear, and for the briefest of seconds he saw her eyes clouding again.
"Kaylens!" he said sharply, dropping her hand and grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her. "Please! Stay with me!"
Whether it was their physical contact or his voice, he would never know, but she had gained some sense of herself again and hurtled herself at his chest, her entire form shaking violently.
Harry had never felt more helpless in his life.
And Snape just had to choose that exact moment to walk in.
"What do you think you're doing now, Potter?"
If he wasn't so desperate for help he might have hexed him. Instead his uprising of fury got quenched damn quick as a single thought permeated his panic-ridden mind.
Snape was a Master Occlumens.
Still clutching onto Kaylens as if his life depended on it, he thudded his chin on top of her head and met the Potion Master's critical gaze head on.
"Professor, I need your help."
Snape's entire face crinkled indifferently. "Get off the floor, Potter. I don't have time for your games," he clipped, starting to brush past them. Instead he paused mid-stride, eyeing them distastefully.
"And do remove yourselves from here. Undoubtedly you are both choked up about that know-it-all friend of yours, but really Potter, such displays are not meant for public exhibition."
The Slytherin Head of House flipped his robes, practically striking them as he continued striding across the room's expanse towards another door. Harry's jaw dropped, shock and fury mingling on his angry face. "Damn it this is not a joke!" he roared, watching Snape halt. "Kaylens needs help!"
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to calm down. Where in the hell was Remus?
"Professor," he finally ground out, as if the respectful term pained him, "this is not what you think. This is not a display. Something happened to Kaylens. Someone injected her with unicorn blood and I..." He plowed forth, ignoring the fact that he had not a semblance of a clue on how to explain the situation. "I tried something on her. I used Legilimency to get into her mind, to try and help, but..."
He hesitated, meeting Snape's emotionless expression. "I created a wall, similar to the ones they teach beginners in Occlumency, to separate her memories from the foreign ones, but I'm not sure it's working."
His sharp gaze locked onto the blank expression of his most hated Professor.
"She needs help. I need someone to reinforce the wall I made, and I sure as hell am not capable of doing it."
Harry couldn't believe it, but he was practically begging. The walls he'd built in her mind had been imperfect, and he needed help to fix them.
Unreadable as he was, Snape didn't appear to be about to help, but he didn't make any further attempts to leave.
Running his hands through Kaylens' hair comfortingly, feeling her trembling slowly subsiding, he felt anger at Snape's unresponsiveness begin to stir.
Harry's expression suddenly grew challenging. "Now," he demanded, voice ablaze. "Are you a Master Occlumens or not?"
A flicker of annoyance crossed Snape's face. "Your attempts to appeal to my ego and better nature are pathetic, Potter, considering that I am secure in one and lack the other."
His blood practically boiled.
"Look," Harry spat, dropping all pretense of respectfulness, "you hate me. I hate you. I get that. But this isn't about either of us, and I'll be damned to admit this, but you are the only one here that can help her at the moment. Hell, I'll even give you a free shot at me. Just helpher."
Snape's lips curled angrily, as if considering.
"Follow me," the former Slytherin finally sneered, snapping a hand towards the far door.
Harry's fist clenched as the man disappeared through the doorway, not bothering to wait around for an acknowledgement. Drawing a strained breath between his teeth he glanced down at Kaylens, and the tension drained out of him.
Her entire mud-streaked face was crinkled in concentration. She'd been so wrapped up in trying to remain sane, in trying to hold onto her right mind that she had barely noticed the tense verbal sparring match around her.
"Hey," he murmured, a rough hand reaching out and cupping her chin, forcing her to look up at him, "you still okay?"
Her eyes glittered with confusion, but she managed another nod.
He forced a smile. "Try not to hold this against me," he whispered, standing up and scooping the startled girl into his arms, "but frankly I'm not sure I trust your walking ability at the moment."
She uttered not a sound, simply nodding resignedly, eyes half closed. He swallowed hard as her head fell to rest against his shoulder, and he found himself carefully adverting his gaze from her as he crossed the room, kicking open the door and following after Snape.
The fact that he didn't hit the man with it disappointed him only slightly.
"Put her on the couch."
His brow crinkled uncertainly. Was he really about to just hand her over to the same cruel, bitter man whom had wreaked havoc on his own mind in the past?
He realized that he had very few options at the moment.
Harry listened and sank down into the cushions, clutching her to him. Readjusting only slightly, so that her legs lay loosely draped over his own, with her head resting against his shoulder, he wound his arms protectively around her, sealing her in a vice grip that he was sure she would protest to if she felt up to speaking.
He didn't care. There was no way in hell he'd leave her to face the Potions' Master's mercy alone. And irrational as it was, his exhausted, battered mind somehow equated squeezing her to easing whatever ordeal the Occlumens was about to put her through.
He tilted his head down, burying it in the top of her messy head of hair. That same scent that clung to her even in the rain, even when she'd been covered in mud, remained. Honeysuckle. "Let him do what he has to do. It'll help," he said quietly. It was piss poor reassurance, but all he had, and fuck…
He hoped he wouldn't regret this.
"Fuck…" he muttered. "You smell awful, by the way." Then he took another deep damn breath of her hair, making it clear as hell that he didn't mean it.
He pulled away after that, somewhat reluctantly. His arms remained looped around her waist, and her hazel colored eyes turned up, studying him intently.
"How very touching."
Harry's head jerked up, only to be greeted with Snape's mocking sneer, and an expression that clearly told him to get the hell out of the way.
"Move aside boy."
Harry's eyes hardened, his grip reflexively tightening around her. "No."
Snape practically twitched. "Insolent child, move. I will not be doing this with you in the way."
"The last time I checked," he retorted, "this only required eye contact. Even you taught me that much. And seeing as how I'm not blocking you from that..." He let his caustic reply trail off.
With a growl Snape leaned forward, grabbing Kaylens chin and practically snapping her head towards him.
The repressed urge to strike the man rose up, fury rifling through him at her distressed, shocked expression, but Snape's wand was already drawn and aimed, an intense look in his eyes.
"Legilimens."
An eerily calm expression befell Kaylens' face, while Snape's contorted into one of the utmost concentration.
Harry could only wait.
He dropped his head back against the wall, heaving an exhausted sigh.
The grandfather clock chimed. Kaylens' skin grew cold to the touch. Snape's dark, frightening eyes bored into her wide, doe-like ones.
He watched the clock
Twelve minutes and thirty-three seconds later, Lupin still had not returned.
But his two silent companions did.
Kally jerked, almost violently backwards, her back hitting the armrest of the couch. Harry barely managed to stop her head from smacking into the wall as she slid off of him.
Snape's movements were not nearly so sudden.
Unnoticed to Harry the man rose from the floor, a pale hand brushing imaginary dirt from his robes. And then slowly, almost methodically, the man's fingers tightened challengingly around his wand, his knuckles turning white with the pressure.
It took Harry a second to notice the man's penetrating gaze, but when he did an unsettling sensation overtook him.
The Potions Master was looking at him, a strange look in his eyes.
Fear.
ECOTS
Blue-green eyes appraised the rather full waiting room of the Adelaide and Meath Hospital's emergency room.
"Bugger."
"Father, this is for your own good."
"Couldn't this wait until Monday?" he ventured, trying to plead to his son's better sensibilities as his eyes took in the mass of people. "By the time we finish waiting in line it'll be tomorrow and the physician's office will be open anyways. Is this really where you want to spend your Sunday?"
The man turned around to find his eldest son's eyes narrowed in reproach.
"Father, you were coughing up a storm at home and-"
"It was just a small itch in my throat..."
Edward ignored him. "Dad, you collapsed at the dinner table from that small itch."
"Well really, I was actually just choking on some of your mother's cooking. It was positively unpalatable. Honest."
The boy arched his eyebrows skeptically, clearly not buying this. "Funny, considering how you were praising that fish filet just before your lungs seized up."
The man groaned. "Honestly, Edward. Do you really think that I would criticize your mum's cooking to her face?"
Yes. Wait for it. Ah, there it is.
His son was now full out laughing at him. Of course, he could hardly blame him. His wife, Meredith, could have been a chef had she wanted to. The woman had never cooked nor baked something subpar in her life.
But that wasn't about to stop him from trying to get out of this cursed, congested waiting room.
"Father," croaked out his son, "aren't you a bit old for harboring phobias of doctor visits?"
He grunted in response, racking his pounding head for another excuse. Honestly, he really thought that his family was overreacting. His lymph nodes might be swollen, and indeed his head was pounding as if Circes himself were waging a small war with his neurons, but really all he needed was a good night's rest.
Perhaps he could blame the coughing fit and his wheezing on having tried some cigarettes while fishing that morning. Of course, Meredith would have his hide skinned and filleted before he would even have a chance to shout for help...
Yes, better to submit to the scalpel jockeys than his beloved's wrath.
The man was caught unaware when his son rather abruptly shoved him into a wheelchair.
"Edward..." he hissed gruffly, only for his threat to fall on deaf ears as Edward bypassed the main line, shoving him to the second check-in window reserved for those experiencing either chest pain or shortness of breath.
And it was then that the racking cough again shook him, the knife-like pain attacking as if the Grim Reaper himself were holding the blade. He clutched onto the wheelchair's arms, gritting his teeth, an acidy burn working its way up his throat.
A painful stab began in his chest, sending his body jack-knifing forward, nearly out the chair. A sharp shout near him made him aware of the frenzy of activity that had begun beyond the check-in desk, and strong hands abruptly latched onto his shoulders, preventing him from falling face forward.
A foot shot out, kicking the wheelchair's brake into place with a metallic click, and suddenly the rocking, swaying motion that he had not even realized to be going on ceased.
The pain in his chest dulled down to a dull burn, and his hand flew to his mouth, feeling the sputum expelling with the next shuddering gasp.
He coughed once, twice more, before leaning gratefully forward onto his son's shoulder, gasping for air.
It was then that he noticed the man in the white lab coat kneeling next to him, and it dawned on him that the cold, metal feeling on his back was the stethoscope, which the doctor had already managed to slip beneath the back of his shirt.
Feeling winded, he looked at the physician's concerned face, and forced a weak grin. "Well," he gasped wryly. "I think it's safe to say, that I am short of breath."
ECOTS
Lupin bowled into the room, Dumbledore in tow, the forceful thud of the door flying open and slamming against the wall effectively causing Snape's white-knuckled grip on his wand to loosen.
Harry's gaze snapped to where Remus stood, asking him what had happened.
He barely heard him, suddenly feeling so, so incredibly stupid. In his desperation to obtain help he had failed to be patient, unable to wait for Lupin's return. It only now occurred to him why it had taken the werewolf so long.
It would never have occurred to Remus to have gone to the nearest Master Occlumens for help. The trust between the old Marauder and Snivellus was nonexistent, so there was no way in hell that Lupin would have trusted the man to delve into Kaylens' mind.
So he had gone for Dumbeldore.
Harry already felt like an idiot. Snape simply seized the moment to express his agreement.
"Potter couldn't possibly have done this," he declared.
Snape's statement hung on the air as Dumbledore, looking only slightly weary, swept his gaze back and forth between the three of them. First his blue eyes studied Kalliandra, pity and curiosity mingling together on his lined face, before turning his kindly gaze to Harry. And then, finally, his spectacled gaze locked with Severus Snape's.
A strange silence filled the room as the two became locked in a staring match. It took Harry only a moment to realize what they were doing.
They were communicating through Legilimency.,the two masters exchanging all of the information about the situation that they needed to know.
Remus seized the moment of privacy, kneeling in front of where he and Kaylens lay tangled up. "Harry," he began quietly, so as not to interrupt the two, "please tell me you didn't let him..."
Harry grimaced. "I did."
The werewolf released an exasperated sigh, fixing Harry with an annoyed stare. "I'm not even going to ask what you were thinking. It's quite obvious that you weren't."
"He is a Master Occlumens," he argued, feeling almost dirty at having just defended Snape. "I wouldn't willingly allow someone to hurt her."
A flash of amusement temporarily replaced the critical look on Remus' face. "This coming from the person who personally removed quite a bit of her hair, in what Crusantheus assured me was a full-out brawl in the Headmaster's office."
Harry cringed. "You heard about that, huh?" he asked sheepishly, glancing to where Kalliandra lay, looking for all the world as if she were sleeping.
Remus followed his gaze. "Hermione actually wrote me about that. Something about wanting me to talk some sense into the both of you. Personally, I'm still trying to figure out how she knew I was tutoring Kalliandra in the first place."
"You were tutoring her?"
Remus nodded, looking at him curiously. "How did you think we were acquainted?"
"She was a professional groomer and Moony was in need of a cut?"
Lupin sent him a withering glare. "Of all the things to inherit, you had to get your father's cheek."
"I didn't realize it was his."
Remus seemed to consider this. "Yours is actually a bit more caustic," he relayed. "Unless Prongs was talking to someone he severely disliked, his comments were never quite so biting."
"So I'm bitter. Can you blame me?"
Moony's expression softened considerably. "No, Harry, I cannot."
Abruptly Lupin's attention turned firmly to Kaylens, his concerned look returning full force. Harry simply watched as Remus reached out, carefully brushing a lock of her persistently tangled hair away from her face, studying her like a concerned father.
"Well," he finally commented, "you two certainly look uncomfortable."
Despite himself, he nearly laughed at the absurdity of the statement. Not that it was lacking in truth, for when Kaylens had jerked back she had wound up with one leg still draped over his own, one hanging halfway off the couch, with her thin form half-slumped between him and the armrest.
And now, she had apparently fallen asleep in exhaustion.
Harry smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, well, wouldn't want to risk incurring her wrath by waking her, now would I?"
Nevertheless he found himself adjusting, to the point where he felt rather secure in knowing that if he let go of her, that she wouldn't be in danger of sliding down to the floor.
Remus simply watched this, a crease forming across his forehead.
"Harry," he ventured, "what exactly did you do for her? Specifically."
Harry frowned, considering how to respond to this. However, he did not get the chance.
The two Occlumens in the room had started blinking again, their exchange, apparently, complete.
"As I said, Potter couldn't possibly have done this," Snape restated, ignoring the questioning looks Lupin was throwing at all of them.
Kaylens chose that moment to let out a sleepy murmur, stirring in her sleep, and somehow that small sound of hers reawakened Harry's fear that he had somehow harmed her mind in his attempt to help her in the first place.
"I didn't hurt her, did I?" he blurted, earning a sharp stare from Remus.
Fortunately Dumbledore responded quickly.
"No, Harry, you did not."
Snape let out a sound not unlike that of an angry cat. "Albus," he disrupted, clearly in disagreement with the Headmaster's acceptance that Harry had, indeed, constructed the mental barrier, "the level of proficiency in Occlumency that one would have to possess to have done this would be staggering. There is no possible way that Potter could have done this." Snape hesitated. "I'm not even sure that I could have done this."
"What?" Harry shot out, startled by the admission.
"Would someone terribly mind filling me in on what exactly the three of you are talking about?" interjected Lupin, sounding only mildly annoyed.
Snape acted as if the man had not even spoken, his dark eyes swiveling to Harry instead. "I don't know what you're playing at Potter," he snapped heatedly, "but you did not do this to this girl."
Harry's eyes narrowed, a slow burning anger growing.
The greasy haired man's gaze grew more challenging. "Who really constructed that barrier, Potter?"
Harry's teeth clenched. "I did."
"LIAR!"
Dumbledore lifted a placating hand. "Now Severus, let us not be hasty. Harry has been under my tutelage since the start of term, and he has improved greatly, particularly in regards to his ability to construct mental barriers."
"No one improves that much in so short a time. Especially," he bit out, gesticulating in Harry's direction, "such an incompetent child!"
Harry's eyes hardened. "Like you would know, considering you're the one who refused to teach me."
"You are impossible to teach, Potter."
"Perhaps if you were capable of dropping petty school day grudges, I wouldn't be."
"You are just like your father," Snape practically growled.
"I wouldn't know," he spat matter-of-factly. "Perhaps you could share stories sometimes. Reminisce about having your undergarments placed on public exhibition?"
Remus snorted.
"Harry, that was uncalled for," Dumbledore admonished.
Harry bit back a laugh. "Considering everything he's put me through over the years I highly doubt that."
Snape's normally controlled features twisted into something livid. "How dare you speak to the Headmaster with such disrespect-"
"I respect the Headmaster plenty," Harry snapped. "It's you that I have no respect for."
"Has it occurred to anyone that arguing will get us nowhere?" Remus asked.
"If Potter hadn't blatantly displayed such a lack of decorum-"
"Decorum?" Harry interrupted. "This isn't your little class with all of its ridiculously anti-Gryffindor rules! So forgive me if I don't grovel at your feet to earn your approval!"
"That is the last time I ever help you, you ungrateful-"
"YOU DIDN'T HELP ME! YOU HELPED HER!" Harry screamed, launching himself off the couch and to his feet. It was only Remus' quick reflexes that kept Kaylens from tumbling with him.
Grunting in annoyance, Remus turned to Dumbledore. "Do you get the feeling that this argument was a long time coming?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Why do you think I'm letting them carry on?"
Harry and Snape remained oblivious to the exchange. The latter looked unbelievably smug. "That's funny, Potter, I don't recall telling you that I helped her at all. Come to think of it, all I did was take a look at that barrier. I must admit though, she does have some rather interesting recent memories..."
Harry's eyes took on a wild look. "That has nothing to do with-"
"You're right. But this has everything to do with your inability to respect your betters and to follow the rules."
Harry snorted. "Funny, considering you're the one who's always saying how the normal rules don't apply to me."
"No you idiot boy! I'm always telling you how arrogant you are to think that the normal rules don't apply to you."
"Considering I'm the one who has to off good ole' Riddle for everyone, you'd better hope the rules don't. Otherwise, next time the killing curse might actually work."
Snape scowled dangerously. "I'll see if it works," he hissed, fingering his wand.
"ENOUGH!"
Harry's mouth snapped shut, his retort lodged uncomfortably in his throat.
Outside, in the main entrance hall, Mrs. Black began screaming.
"If anyone didn't have a headache before, they certainly will now," Remus practically groaned.
"Severus," addressed the Headmaster, absentmindedly nodding his agreement with Lupin, "from what you've shown me, it looks like all that was done was a separation of Ms. Kaylens' memories from the unicorn's, and that is all."
"That's all?" Snape responded edgily, his anger apparently undiluted despite the sudden change of subject. "You make it sound as simple as identifying one species from the other."
Dumbledore shrugged, looking at Harry with a sudden burst of pride twinkling in his eyes. "It's true, that what Harry did required a high degree of skill in the area, but I think if you really think about it Severus, you'll find that Harry was more than capable of having accomplished this."
Severus snorted.
"After all, Severus, all Harry really did was construct a wall inside of her mind-"
"Not just a wall, Albus. It was a perfect wall."
Harry couldn't help himself. "Perfect? It was full of holes! I thought the thing was about to collapse!"
"You mean to say that you were attempting to create a rigid structure?"
"Yes," he hissed. "Now will someone please explain what he meant by perfect?"
"Will someone please explain what wall we are talking about?"
Everyone ignored Remus, the Marauder finally throwing up his hands.
"Potter," Snape drawled, as if talking to a particularly slow pupil, "had a rigid wall been constructed, there would have been a complete separation of the two sets of memories in the girl's mind."
"Yes, I get that," Harry snapped, feeling frustrated. "That's what I was going for."
Snape's dark, greasy eyebrows arched up. "Even a rigid wall would have eventually crumbled, and when that happened it would have been akin to releasing a floodgate of foreign memories in her mind. So the effect would have been the same as it was initially."
"Meaning?"
Snape practically rolled his eyes. "She would have gone insane again. I know this level of conversing is a bit of a strain on your mental facilities, but please, do try and keep up."
"That'll be enough, Severus," interjected Dumbledore. "What he means to say, Harry, is that a weak barrier with holes will allow the foreign memories to slip into her mind a few at a time. It'll allow her to become slowly acclimated to them, as opposed to being forced to manage them all at once. Now I imagine the task of sorting through everything will be rather draining on her..."
Snape snorted. The Headmaster ignored him.
"But in a few hours she should have a pretty solid grasp on what memories are hers, and what are not."
"A few hours?" Harry would trust Dumbledore with his life, but somehow this seemed far too easy. He would have thought cramming a lifetimes worth of memories into a new head would take far longer.
Suddenly the Headmaster smiled. "Ms. Kaylens has been rather fortunate to have been given the blood of a relatively young unicorn, Harry. In fact, the animal is barely older than her. For the next few weeks she'll gradually gain more and more of its memories, but the worst should be over relatively soon."
"How can you know how old it was?"
"Is, Harry. Just because the unicorn's blood was taken does not mean that it was killed. And one of its latter memories had already slipped through your construct, so Severus was able to see it, and pass that information on to me. She's actually gotten very lucky."
Despite this reassurance, he was still uneasy. "And what happens when that wall I made completely breaks down?"
"A slight headache, I would imagine. Nothing more."
"But..."
"For the love of Merlin! She'll already be acclimated to the memories Potter!" Snape practically shouted, apparently unable to contain himself any longer. "Your little girlfriend will be fine!"
Harry balked. "She's not..."
Snape waved him off dismissively. "Like I care."
Dumbledore casually flicked his wand in their direction, silencing them both. Harry gaped like a fish, noticing Snape doing the same.
Dumbledore let nothing show on his face, but simply turned to where Remus and Kaylens still sat.
"Remus, as interesting as this verbal fray has been, I think that the best thing for Miss Kaylens, at the moment, is rest."
Lupin, looking rather like a worried father, nodded his assent, and before Harry could even protest Moony had scooped Kaylens up in his arms.
Fixing Harry with a pointed stare, Remus inclined his head as he left. "She'll be in the room Hermione and Ginny used."
Snape, apparently having unsilenced himself, let out a derisive scoff that bore a strange resemblance to the words, "I'm so sure."
Dumbledore hummed something that Harry swore to fuck sounded like young love, and he deeply debated the merits of punching things. Namely Snape. The bastard's nose was one hell of a large target.
It was only after Lupin and Kaylens had left the room that Dumbledore's expression grew far more serious.
"Harry," he stated seriously, "I think it's time you explained exactly what happened with Angelina."
ECOTS
"VHERE IS SHE!"
The man's voice rose furiously, awakening her from her Crucio-induced slumber with a start.
Her dark eyes snapped open, her unfocused gaze shooting uselessly around the pitch-black room.
She had been left in complete and total darkness, unable to discern even a single detail of her surroundings. The cold, silk sheets beneath her were the only clue she had to suggest that she remained in the same room as before.
Only now she was mercifully alone, with only the lingering, bone-deep pain of the inflicted curses for company.
An unsettling feeling of futility settled firmly within her chest, but she would not, could not, lose hope. Instead her resolve strengthened, and she forced herself to listen very carefully.
Outside in the hall two people were arguing fiercely, their exact words muffled, though every so often the one would rise about the other, a dangerous note in his accented speech.
Her brow creased fretfully, anxiety filling her. There was something very familiar about that voice. Something her intelligent mind screamed she should have been able to recognize instantly.
But to her core she understood that whoever the person was, that she shouldn't be hearing them here.
Not in a place where only Death Eaters roamed freely.
She scrambled to sit up and looked for a weapon…
The door to her room burst open, a broad shouldered man forcing his way in, his silhouette shadowed by the hall's firelight.
It felt as if someone were suddenly choking her, an agonizing chill overtaking her in a way that the Cruciatus curse would never be able to touch.
The man's defined jaw line, one so very familiar to her, was set firmly.
A heart-wrenching betrayal ripped through her, snatching her heart in its vice grip as she watched his mouth open, forming the words she had once loved to hear.
"Hermy-owh-ninny."
