Chapter 24 ~ The Calm Before the Storm
"May we be fearless...from friends and enemies...from known and unknown...from night and day...May the directions be our allies."
~ Atharva Veda
ECOTS
A candelabra, mounted to the wall, vibrated as a loud slam shook Grimmauld Place. Sucking in a breath, eyes reflexively closing, Kalliandra forced herself to calm. Opening her eyes, she watched as the dust flitted down from the heavily coated brass mountings. Heart still pounding, she knew it was ridiculous, and yet...after so many things in the past few days...
Somewhere within her mind, she felt the stirrings of something else. Of something...that was not her. Something with hooves.
From the floor below shouting could be heard, and Kalliandra's muscles tensed, whether she had wanted them to or not, her eyes squinting against even the slight light of the hall. It was cast from the lowly burnt wax hulks still barely clinging to the candelabra, the one that had just shaken, leaving herselfshaken. Taking a quick breath, knowing it was foolish to be startled by something as simple as shouting or slamming, she glanced down the hall, finding that Potter had halted his descent of the stairwell.
His attention seemed riveted downward, every visible part of his stature tensed, so tense that even she could tell. Watching him from where she was, trying to control her breaths until they resembled something calmed, something not rattled by mere sounds from below, she found that she was rattled by more than that.
She was rattled by his sudden change, in demeanor, moments ago, towards her.
Before she could even reflect on that, even a little, he had moved. Without glancing back to see if she followed, his form had begun down the stairs, leaving her to stand there, turn back towards the room they had just vacated, or follow.
She followed, finding that walking was...strange. Her legs felt little used, as if they weren't entirely her own. It was almost as if she felt like she were missing something. Like hooves. Stopping right where she was upon the stairwell, descended only down several steps, she closed her eyes, mentally shaking herself, taking steadying breaths. Dew kissed grass was beneath his hooves, rising high enough to brush high along his ankles, his coat having darkened to a deep silver, a silver that matched the moonlight bathing the clearing. Pawing his powerful legs at the dampened earth, he reared his head and mane back, his head observing the inky black of the night's sky, the peacefulness of it.
The peace was broken by the sudden scuttling near the clearing's edge. Lighting's head bolting back down, a neighing of unease erupting from himself, and the others, within the clearing. And from the darkness...
The acromantulas came, one lunging at his legs-
The sudden contact with one of her limbs had her jerk reflexively, her breath sucked in as her back struck the stair's rail, her eyes flying open, finding Potter's right there in front of her. It took her a second, a second of shaking the murky memories that were not her own away, before she realized that the calluses touching her skin were the feel of Potter's fingers upon her wrist, rather than of an acromantula slamming into Lighting's leg.
Kally stared at him for another second, feeling half shaken, her breaths coming...more shakenly than she would have wanted. From below renewed sounds of shouting could be heard, but Potter hadn't moved.
He stood on the stair below hers, and yet his intense gaze was still at her eye level. For a half second she considered cursing him for being taller than herself. Instead..."Sorry." The word was barely mumbled, but she managed it, watching his brow...crease.
It was as if he didn't know what to make of her, as if he knew what had just been happening inside her head.
Finally, just when she thought he wouldn't say a word, he started to-
Then stopped.
His grip on her wrist released abruptly.
His gaze remained on her for a second, something in it, and then-
It broke away, and he had turned, setting off down the stairwell once more.
Somehow this sent her heart was hammering harder than it had before, when the candelabra had nearly been jarred off the wall.
ECOTS
"Kaylens, as soon as I figure that out, I'll tell you."
Night vision. Harry had seen in the dark, as acutely as she had. And that...
Was new, for twenty four hours ago, when they had first port keyed out of that clearing and into the foyer of Grimmauld Place, he hadn't been able to see in the dark. They had landed on the floor in pitch blackness, and he had not seen a thing, not until Remus had thrown the lights on. But in that room with Kaylens, just now, he'd been able to see. In the dark. Just like an animal.
And he hadn't even noticed it. Not until Kaylens voice had hit him. "Then how could you see in there?" She'd asked about it.
He'd all but stormed to the lower level of Grimmauld Place to get away from her, to put distance there, because being by her right now would only remind him of what she'd just asked, and the fact that he didn't know the answer. Still...his legs halted just long enough to ensure that she was still behind him. The thought of her falling into thoughts that were not her own, of losing herself in another creature's memories again, of her falling into a curse of unicorn blood and of him not noticing...
It'd nearly happened there, again, on the stairwell. He'd turned back for her, grabbing her arm when a slight surge of panic had swelled within him. They may have erected a wall within her mind, one to slowly allow the unicorn's memories to filter out to mix with her own, so that she could grow used to them, but...
The very thought sent something stirring angrily within him. If he'd been more damn aware Angelina would never have gotten close to her, she wouldn't have been able to so much as touch her.
Instead the traitorous witch, one he had considered a team mate, a house mate, a friend, Fred's girlfriend, someone the Weasley family trusted, had slid unicorn blood into Kaylens veins whilst he had been holding onto the witch's unconscious form, literally. And he...
Had slept through it.
It was as much his own damn fault as it was Angelina's, and that knowledge...it had hit jaw setting, his teeth grinding. And Kaylens...the infuriating witch was making him want to curse something, only what he wanted to curse for once wasn'ther.
Instead not touching her, keeping his damn hands away from her, was becoming the problem. One he'd realized acutely when they'd been in that room, when he'd had her face between both of his callused damn hands, right before she'd reminded him that everything he knew about her had been because he'd just takenthe knowledge from her, by force, by Legilemency.
He'd used it on her more than once now.
Harry nearly swore, finding rage rising in him that was out of place. Kicking over the umbrella stand he ignored the subsequent shrieking that Mrs. Black made, storming right past her. Harry had made the foolish mistake of thinking he knew Kaylens, for a minute, when in reality the witch didn't want him to know her at all. In reality he knew the halls of this cursed place, Grimmauld, where Siriushad lived, better than he knew her.
Blocking her out, her and that cursed stirring or concern her so much as pausing too long was causing in him, as much as he could, blocking out the shrieking of Mrs. Black, his feet slammed against the first floor floorboards. Focusing on the sounds of fighting, halting for only a second, he turned down the far corridor of Grimmauld, in its direction. He saw Kaylens pausing at the bottom of the stairwell in the periphery of his vision, and left her there, for the yelling...
Was reminding him that there were quite a few things that he needed to still know. Things that Dumbledore had promised him, the night before, that he would explain, if Harry were only patient for a few more hours.
It'd been more than a few more hours. To hell with his patience.
"-while you're at it, you can explain to that child that I am NOT it's babysitter! In FACT-"
"It? Kingsley, you do realize that she happens to be a female? Not to mention-"
"Do I LOOK like I am concerned about choiceage of pronouns right now Nymphadora?" Harry stopped around the corner, the conversation's participants registering. "Your cavalier regard for your designated Muggle official to protect, the list of damages incurred from your past twelve hours alone, your refusal to have used obliviation on Muggles when it would by necessitated by protocol, and whether or not I am referring to the Muggle girl by the right pronoun all rank just above my preference for babysitting duty and right below my concern for the fact that you have just sent a politically sensitive figure into a verifiable hot zone that the plague was just unleashed in! Do you have any-"
"Even those in Sussex have grasped the idea by now, Shacklebolt. Perhaps you would spare our auditory capacities though by perhaps turning your volume down just a notch."
He did not bother to stop in the corridor. Instead he strolled right to the damn door of the sitting room, the one that was half way open, a child hiding behind it. Merely shooting the child a rather pointed, curiously amused look, nodding at her, he stalked right past her and through the door. Not bothering to so much as utter hello he took in the occupants with a single look. Kingsley Shacklebolt, looking furious and rather red. Nymphadora Tonks, Auror, friend, and instigator extraordinaire, looking rather cavalier if Kingsley's adjectives were going to be put to proper use. And then there was the wizard masked with a misidentification charm, the one that Angelina had nearly bowled over in her attempt to escape the preceding night, and it was upon him that his gaze lingered for a moment.
It really did look like he'd interrupted a rather interesting row. One that had Shacklebolt fast approaching a coronary and had Tonks and the other man somewhat amused.
Taking this all in, Harry merely raised a brow at them all. "Let me guess, catching you all at a bad time?" Not waiting for response as Shacklebolt sputtered, he contented himself with leaning casually against the doorframe. After all, this had been Sirius house, his godfather's, so there was no reason for him notto make himself right at home. And for once he wasn't feeling prone to not being smug about it.
Really, having just begun to have it out with Snape the preceding night, having one of his best friends missing, and having had Death Eaters, werewolves, and the girl he'd most recently snogged try to kill him – intentional or not - within the past twenty four hours was really doing positive things to his overall mindset.
"Wotcher Harry."
Shooting Tonks, the first to speak, a rather amused look, he nodded his head. "Wotcher right back, Tonks. Shocking you haven't woken the dead down here." Pausing, tilting his head rather like a dog, he dryly added, "Or was I mistaken in hoping that someone finally killed Kreacher and tossed his remains under the floorboards?" They really did need some kind of dead – in the form of that malevolent house elf - around there just to lightenthe mood. Hell, Order members could use it for hexing target practice.
It hardly mattered.
Instead Harry saw a slight movement behind the door he'd just entered in through, the small girl that had been hiding there shaking her head. Shooting a look towards her, and then one back into the room, he hitched a thumb out there. "Any of you aware you have an eavesdropper? Because if not I'd really recommend another stealth and concealment lesson." Making a mock tisk, he glanced at the man whose face was masked. "What were we calling you again? The man with the good kick or Casper?" The night before the man had kicked Angelina away from him rather well.
The blurred man merely snorted, and before Harry could utter another word Kingsley uttered several choice ones, ones that were bound to increase the child that was listening in's repertoire of colourful metaphors, before the Head of the Auror department rounded on Tonks once again. "This! This cheek," Shacklebolt was exclaiming, gesturing at Harry, "would be your influence as well I take it?" A second later Kingsley had dropped his large head into his hand, bemoaning something about 'just knowing it had been a bad idea to leave Tonks in charge of his security detail in Diagon Alley.'
Harry merely found this amusing. "I'd like to think," he addressed Shacklebolt, "that I have cheek all of my own sort, thanks. Wouldn't want to rip off Tonks unique style now would I?" Giving Tonks a wink, his casual, somewhat smug tone changed.
"Now, will one of you explain what it is that all of you adults were keeping me in the dark about last night, or perhaps might be kind enough to direct me in whatever direction Dumbledore's gone. After all he did promise to fill me in within a few hours, and given I just took a bit of a nap of considerable length with Kaylens there," tilting his head at her, given at some point she'd caught up, stopping just outside the threshold of the door to the sitting room, "I'd dare say that request to just be patient for a few hours quota has been filled."
From behind the door there was a snickering, and Harry's gaze slid towards it with some curiosity. It was only muted by the fact that he saw Kaylens doing the same, her head tilted to peer around the door slightly. Champagne coloured eyes moved from the door to his, briefly, and despite every damn thing he knew to be going on within her mind, he saw a slight bit of amusement dancing within her gaze. Clearly, from her position, she could see exactly what the child was doing there, and clearly it was somewhat...comical.
Merely raising his brow at her, a silent exchange occurred, Kaylens merely raising a brow back. "She seems to be..." tilting her head back to look behind the door, she frowned, then continued, "licking something green." Watching Kaylens for another moment, her nose wrinkling at whatever the girl was doing, Harry turned his attention back to the apparent adults. Hooking his thumb back at the door once more, clearly indicating the girl hiding behind it, he bluntly questioned, "Right. Who's the kid? And what is she doing in my godfather's house?" Any other children being drug into this he wasn't entirely for, and that girl truly was a child, unlike himself.
Even if half the adults seemed determined to keep him locked up for his own safety, determined to treat him as one.
Now though...now he was having no more of it. Things...
We're going to change.
ECOTS
Hermione held Viktor's gaze, breaths coming out in slight fear from between her lips. His large hands, the hands of a professional seeker, one accustomed to snaring his snitch and not letting go, held onto her shoulders tightly, and it was all the Gryffindor could do to not tremble.
Only now she was driven to tremble for entirely different reasons than the last time he'd touched her.
"They said something about vanting to hurt the Muggles in the area, to draw the Phoenix out ov its hiding place. I did not understand vhy a bird vould be hiding, but..."
The Death Eaters had taken her there, where therewas, and a legilimens had attacked her mind, and one of the memories the vile woman had extracted was of Hermione being taken to Order Headquarters. Its exact location might be protected by the fiedlius charm but...
The general area of London was not, and the Death Eaters had seen that.
"They said something about vanting to hurt the Muggles in the area, to draw the Phoenix out ov its hiding place."
Her breaths came quicker, her eyes flashing with something determined as they fixated on Viktor. "If you really want to help me, let go, and give me a piece of paper and a quill." Watching his gaze hesitate, for only a second, she forced as much strength into her voice as she could, "Now Viktor. Please." She wanted to trust him, but he was a Death Eater, and she couldn't.
But there was another way. Watching him, half hoping-
Viktor's wide brow creased, the set of his jaw looking conflicted, but he nodded.
And released her.
A second later the door to the room slammed shut, shouting heard outside of it, and Hermione found herself alonem, nearly slumping down the wall she'd been pressed against, not having realized how much the pressure of his hands had kept her standing. Somehow forcing her legs to keep her upright, her hands flew to her shoulders, rubbing where his hands had forcibly gripped her, her breathing suddenly ragged, half-panting as she fought for control of herself again. He'd left her. He'd left her alone. She had to think.
Her eyes landed upon her wand, the familiar magical tool laying upon the floor where it had been knocked from her hand, and hastily Hermione went for it.
She'd only just re-claimed it, rising back to her feet when the door to the room flew open again. Heart pounding Hermione had whorled around, her wand raised and aimed at the intruder-
It was Viktor, the door already slammed shut behind him, and in his hand...
Was paper. And a quill. And ink. She barely had time to be impressed by how many items just one of his hands could hold before he'd started walking towards her, her wand still not lowering, but...her brow was furrowing, suspicion still lacing her thoughts. Viktor stopped a meter from her, just watching her, raw pain in his expression. Whether it was manufactured, fakedfor her benefit or not though she did not know. "Ve do not have much time Hermy-owh-ninny. Vrite vhat you vill and I'll send it vhere vou tell me." For a moment Hermione stared at him, her fingers nearly trembling around the wand she had aimed at his head, her mind trying to decide what to do. But her gut...
Told her this was the best choice, because even if she were wrong about trusting him nothing worse would happen.
"You want me to trust you?" Watching him, waiting for any sign to hex him, she continued, "Then let me put a blinding spell on you. Temporarily. So you can't see what I'm writing." Waiting with baited breath, it seemed like an eternity.
In reality it was barely a second.
"Alvight Hermy-own-ninny." Viktor had already unearthed his wand, holding it up for her to see, before he dropped it pointedly to the floor. Hearing it clatter, her eyes darted from him to the door for a moment, hoping..."There are too many guarding the halls outside ov there. You vould never make it out. Please...do not try." Something in his tone seemed almost hollow, broken. "I do not vant them to have another chance to hurt vou."
For a long moment Hermione just watched him, watched him as he set down the paper and quill on the bed, stepping away, holding up his hands. An act of submission. Sucking in a breath, Hermione murmured a swift spell, a stunning charm.
Viktor's form fell to the ground with a loud thud, and another wave of her wand sent ropes snaring tightly around her former suitor. Breathing swiftly, she murmured, "Sorry Viktor," before she turned to the paper and quill in a swift movement, already dropping to kneel on the bed she'd been on before.
Then she began to write, quickly, and when she was done...
She concealed the words with a concealment charm. The most powerful one she could think of, but when it was in his hands...
She'd wake Viktor when she was done, and if he'd truly meant what he said, that he was trying to helpher...then maybe, just maybe he could get it to an owl in time. And if not...
The concealment charms would protect the message she was sending, and Viktor would not have been conscious to know which one she used.
ECOTS
Tonks blinked at Harry in considerable amusement, waggling her eyebrows between he and Kalliandra as he finished with his spiel, her professional mind narrowing in on precise details of his previous statements. "Took a nap together eh, Harry?" Waggling her eyebrows some more and shooting an only slightly gleeful look in the girl's direction, finding herself glad to see that the girl she'd yet to properly meet was capable of standing on her own now, Tonks chipperly carried on, "We're going to have to be having some girly chats then aren't we? Can I interrogate her for details Harry? Please?" Having turned her attention back to Harry at the last part with a delighted grin, she twirled her wand quite innocently, "You won't hold me pressing her for details against me when I work on dueling with you will you, Harry? I get so little fun with this lot." Nodding her head between her boss and her currently disguised cousin, Regulus, she waggled her eyes once more for good measure, and mainly because it was just so much fun to do
Embarrassing others as a form of levity to lighten moods when things were quite dire was something she had grown quite fond of. In fact, she was quite certain that she was getting better at it.
"And wotcher Kally," Tonks said jovially, turning her attention back to the girl. "I probably should say watcher and hello before I start interrogating you about your and Harry's se-"
"NYMPHADORA! Please tell me you are NOT intending on using your interrogation techniques to find out DETAILS about teenagers-" Kingsley sputtered for a moment, leaving Tonks rather concerned about his well-being, for now another vein in his neck had joined the one in his forehead that was throbbing, "About their-their-bedroom fiascos-"
"Kalliandra. How refreshing it is to see you looking so refreshed."
Tonks nearly clapped in delight at the sight of Harry, Kingsley, and the girl all jumping as Dumbledore's voice rang out of nowhere. She might be miffed with the Headmaster for that stunt he and Regulus had pulled regarding the blood oath to get Hermione back, but his excellent timing was drowning out Kingsley's mutterings of words like inappropriate and insubordinate.
Dumbledore, however, calmly strolled down the hall Kalliandra and Emily stood within, just past the entrance to the sitting room, stopping next to the older girl, placing his hand upon her shoulder. "However, Tonks," he said in seeming bemusement, "I would have to concur with Kingsley, that such things are hardly our business, nor appropriate to be discussing in the company of younger, more impressionable selves." Sending a meaningful glance behind the door towards the child, Dumbleodre kindly said, "Emily, would you perhaps do an old man a kindness and see about setting up another game of exploding snap in the front hall? I am thinking," he continued, Tonks suddenly spying the tired lines of his face, ones he so often kept hidden, "that getting covered in some of that pleasant green goo myself would be just what I may need after a long day." Dumbledore smiled down at where Emily was hidden, eyes twinkling tiredly behind his half moon spectacles, and in a moment the auburn haired Irish girl had let out a giggle, darting out from behind the door and scurrying down the corridor and into the main section of Grimmauld Place quickly.
Tonks watched the seven year old go with some awe. She had bounced back so quickly, for one would never know that she had lost her mother such a short time ago. Still...
Dumbledore was back, having only paused in the corridor long enough to utter something quietly to Kalliandra, the girl's brow furrowing. Then the leader of the Order rose back to his full height, sparing no time and ushering her in ahead of him, his attention turning past them all towards Harry. For a moment, all was quiet.
"Perhaps," Regulus suggested, his entire face still an unidentifiable mask due to Dumbledore's concealment charm that had been placed upon him, "if we are going to be discussing things of a serious nature, we should deeply consider the age old concept of shutting the door." Leaning back in his seat rather smugly, the man twirled his crystalline goblet between his fingers with expert precision as he awarded them all with a mock look of apology. "Unless of course we were wanting more people of the underage variety to perhaps interrupt?"
Tonks snorted outright at that, ignoring Kinglsey's look of annoyance. Dumbledore, however, merely smiled tiredly. "I believe all of our underage guests," he told, "have more than earned the right to be privy to such discussions. Though I confess," his gaze turned towards the door, his wand moving only slightly to send the door to the study closing shut, "to not desiring to cause young Emily any further distress. The child has had more than enough for a lifetime, and I regret that she will soon have more."
ECOTS
From beneath her woolen hat, the young woman afforded the nurse staffin' the emergency ward's admission desk a tired, well-meanin' smile, but even that sent her neck aching. "Aye, ye seem a busy place to beith tonight." Aye, an influx of people were in the E.R., and as tired as Adair felt she could still see this, and she knew that of course, the E.R. staff would only be able to tend to them in the order of their arrival, and severity.
And Adair was only there because it was the weekend, her university's clinic was closed, and she was an exchange student from Scotland living in Dublin with naught no normal physician's office to go to. And aye, she was feelin' pretty horrible, and had an examination in her major class on Tuesday, and nae, she could naught afford to miss the examination on account of a cold, or whatever it was that this was. Aye, she'd been snifflin' and felt like her glands were swellin' out of her neck since the day prior.
But aye, annoyin' as waitin' might be, she was naught, by any means, an emergency, and Adair knew that. She was studyin' to be a pharmacist, so she knew enough about medical professions to know that people should always try to wait gracefully.
Pulling her woolen hat a little more tightly over her long black curls with one hand, she allowed her fingers to curl exhaustedly around the proffered paperwork from the frazzled seemin' nurse, and Adair glanced at the acquaintance from the dormitories who had driven her. A trace of a smile played along her lips, for she had been surprised when he'd offered to driver her. "Thanks for comin' with me. I'm just," pausing for a moment, feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over her for a minute, she shook her head to clear it, before continuin' on, "sorry that it looks like it'll be a bit of a wait." Darin, from her dormitory, was lookin' around the waiting room though, frownin' quite a bit. Aye, she felt her heart pound a little quicker at that, for she didn't want to be a bother to him, and before he'd seemed so fine with coming there with her. Only now he was looking around the waiting room as if it were some type of viper.
Adair followed his gaze, blinkin' slightly, and aye she was a right little startled to see several other people waitin' as well, looking like they might have what she had, all slumped into various chairs and corners, as if tryin' to put as much distance between each other as they could, and all in varyin' miserable states of sniffles. Adair sniffled herself, lifting the back of her hand to wipe her own nose. "Seems somethin's goin' around then?" Glancing at Darin, she puller he lip between her teeth, intoning, "I really hope you don't catch this too." She hoped he didn't. She'd be mortified if he got sick all for trying to help her.
Takin' a step forward, towards the nearest chair, it felt as if her head went fuzzy for a moment.
Adair had not even realized that she had swayed until Darin had grabbed a hold of her arm, steadying her. Finding herself taking some slightly quicker breaths than she normally would, feeling a little winded, she only caught little bits of what he was saying to her. "...not sure you should be here if everyone else is sick to. It-" Adair closed her eyes for a moment, hearin' him ask if she was alright.
Adair did not really hear him though, for her legs went slack beneath her, her lips intoning, "Nae, I don't..." feeling her knees hit the floor, feelin' Darin dropping right down beside her, his grip on her the only thing that had kept her from falling harder, she finished, "feel quite right."
What Adair did not see as she swayed from her seated position on the waiting rooms floor though, oblivious to how panicked she had just made Darin, was the middle aged woman across the way doubling over from a racking fit of coughs, the woman slumping out of the chair, striking the floor, the scarf that had covered the woman's neck sliding away.
Large, bulbous lumps, where the woman's lymphs nodes should be, were revealed, the skin blackish in colouration.
Adair did not hear Darin's sudden sucking in of breath as he saw this, for Adair's own hand was touching her own neck. It seemed to be hurting worse now. Aye, it felt strangely tight all of a sudden...
Her fingers stroked along lumps in her neck, her lymph nodes bulging now, only Adair's...
We're not quite black in colouration. Yet.
The nurse manning the receptionist desk, from behind the concealed bullet proof glass so common of all E.R.'s, stared in shock as she watched two women collapse at once in the waiting room. Immediately she was on her feet, hitting the intercom to page the other nurse's and physicians on duty – for they were all busy in the curtained off patient areas of the E.R. – her tone carrying a note of surprise in it.
And that was when the Irish nurse's eyes saw it.
The young, black haired woman she had just given paperwork to had had visibly swollen lymph nodes. A sign of severe infection, but...
It was the sight of the other woman's, the older woman's, lymph nodes that had her breath suck in. When that woman had checked into the E.R. her neck had been covered with a scarf, and now the nurse saw why.
Bulbous protrusions stained black with necrosis had been concealed beneath the scarf's fabric, and the nurse's eyes roamed from the black lymph nodes to the young woman's, a slow, crawling realization striking her.
It was then that a man staggered through the E.R.'s doors, clutching a cloth across his mouth, coughing heavily, his shoulder smacking into the wall as he swayed right into it. And as his hand slid down away from his face...
The cloth could be seen to be covered with blood. Bloody sputum that he had coughed up. But just beyond the man's hand, barely concealed behind the hand and blood covered cloth that was blocking them from view, was that man's neck.
His lymph nodes were swollen, blackened as if they had already decayed on a corpse after death.
Breathing shakily, the recently graduated nurse took in what she was saying, unable to breath, unable to move nor react in time as she watched that man sway, sliding down the wall to the ground.
On the waiting room floor the pretty, black haired young woman slumped over onto her male friend, coughs racking the young woman's body, but it was not the coughing that had the nurse shivering in fear.
It was the sight of blood splattering across the floor, the bloody sputum coming up out of the woman's mouth with her racking coughs.
Breaking out of her frozen sate, the nurse's fingers grabbed at the hospital phone, her other hand fumbling at her name tag to try to find the right code to page. Their name tags had so many codes on the back's of them, so that if a hospital employee ever encountered an emergency...
She found it, her voice shakily paging a phase 2 code, her breathing coming quickly as she let the phone drop, darting back away from her desk, away from the glass that separated her from the E.R. waiting room, and towards the cabinets that would contain face masks for her to use. And whilst she riffled around for the masks, something she had little had to use in her short time in the Emergency department, over the hospital announcements the code could be heard repeating itself.
It was the code used for a potential external disaster, for when there was suddenly a large influx of patients, from either a mass casualty incident, like a bus crash, or from something worse..
Like an outbreak.
From behind her, farther back and already admitted inside of the E.R.'s patients' rooms, the nurse heard a sudden shout, a thud, and the suddenly horrible racking coughs of someone as they began to cough up bloody sputum of their own.
What she could not have known, was that across Dublin, in every hospital's emergency room, in every clinic, in every physician's office, the same disease had suddenly appeared.
And it was already killing.
ECOTS
"There was an outbreak, Harry, within Dublin."
Harry did not move from where he stood. Instead he remained right where he was, listening, tensely. He did not have to ask the Headmaster to continue, the aged, powerful wizard's normally twinkling eyes...
Dulling, as if filled with an incomprehensible sadness.
With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the movement seeming too quick to be done so casually and with such ease from a man of such age, a spell flashed across the door of the sitting room, Harry's gaze squinting at the sudden brightness only slightly, and when he was done he found Dumbledore's kindly eyes resting upon his once more. "Perhaps," he said kindly, his gaze holding his, yet his voice clearly addressing someone else, "we should spare Miss Bothan the details, for the moment, in the event that she listens in." Not looking away from Dumbledore, Harry still did not miss the nodding of Tonks in the periphery of his vision. It was just another cryptic thing though that he did not understand, and that...
Made him tense.
Dumbledore tough, was continuing, reading the question in his expression. "Miss Bothan, Harry, shall be remaining here, in Grimmauld Place, for the time being, until her home can be considered safe." Opening his mouth to ask just what thatmeant, the wizard with the blurred out face answered his question before he could speak it.
"The kid," the man answered, as if he were finding the utter ambiguity of the situation somewhat amusing, "is a Muggle, and the President of Ireland's daughter. So she happens to reside within Dublin." The man was still twisting his glass of wine within his hand, and though Harry could not read his expression, blurred as it was, entirely, he imagined that it bore the air of a smirk as his head turned to address Dumbledore. "Just thought we should all be acquainted, after all." Harry did not miss the man's winkthough, nor did he miss the irony.
The man whose identity and voice were masked was the one who thought they should all be acquainted.
Harry barely repressed a snort, Tonks failing in that respect. Regardless...
Dumbledore was continuing, his gaze holding Harry's once more. "The Death Eaters saw fit to target her family, in their attacks on Muggles most recently." Hearing that...it only served to further harden the set of Harry's jaw. Attacks on Muggles...Hermione's family had been one of them. But Dumbledore...
Was going on. Wearily.
"You already know, Harry, that the Death Eaters have been striving to cause unrest within the Ministry, and you both," the Headmaster's gaze only briefly broke away from Harry's towards Kalliandra, "know that there was an attack in Ireland that resulted in...many casualties. It was the one that Remus Lupin was injured in, struck with an experimental spell that caused him to change into his lycan form during the day. Both of you," he continued, Harry not having to ask which two in the room he meant, "witnessed that. What you are unaware of, for the moment, was that it was a part of a larger plan." Pausing, Dumbledore peered down his half moon spectacles at him.
Harry remembered it too well, his mouth drying at the thought. Remus had spoken oddly, before his body had bucked, muscles lengthening, tightening, Remus groaning in pain-
And then a werewolf had prowled the second floor of Grimmauld Place, and the cost...
Had nearly been Kalliandra's life.
Tightening the set of his jaw, he did not look at her. Right now...he couldn't.
Dumbledore continued. "The Death Eaters desire war, between the Muggles, for any war amongst Muggle nations will undoubtedly affect its wizarding counterparts, and our Ministry's attentions will be forcibly divided between the war with Voldemort and surviving the fallout of the war between the Muggles. Unfortunately Voldemort...is intelligent enough to realize this, and if our attention becomes divided between two wars, then his chances of winning the wizarding war for himself...increases in likelihood"
"They have already started to do this, by staging attacks, ones that closely resemble terrorist attacks, on neighboring countries government officials. And in each of these attacks they are...taking measures to ensure that there is evidence left behind that would irrefutably point to it being perpetrated by their neighboring country's government. The imperius curse being performed upon...witnesses, for starts." A slow, cold sensation crawled through him, and deep within his mind he darkly felt the presence of pride.
A pride that was not his own. A pride in the plan that he would neverhave. For the pride...
Was Riddle's.
"The Order was able to at least...intercept the attack on the Irish President in time to save President Bothan's life, and that of his daughters, so that we could convince him that what was happening was not an attack initiated by England, but instead initiated by dark wizards. Unfortunately..." Dumbledore smiled tiredly as Harry's head began to throb. "Convincing one man is far easier than to convince an entire government that they should not indeed retaliate back upon England with equal force. And President Bothan is now...working on his peers to prevent such a thing from occurring. Unfortunately this may be the first of many such incidents. Our goal is to contain as many of them as we can, but..."
Cold comprehension was dawning upon Harry, his venom laced voice finishing Dumbledore's thought. "But it's just a distraction, because if we're allotting all our resources to preventing the Muggles from killing each other, then we leave an open window for Tomto do whatever else he is planning."
The silence that fell was all the answer he needed, and Dumbledore's sad smile confirmed it. "Indeed Harry. Their progress with taking over the wizarding world is proceeding too slowly for Tom's comfort, so he is now seeking to rid himself of two birds with the same stone. Causing unrest in the Muggle realm and war requires only a few attacks on his followers part, but it will require considerably more effort from us to counteract the effects of it, and it will keep the Ministry far too busy in their effort to preserve the Statue of Secrecy. War in the Muggle world will not only kill Muggles for him, but it will distract all those who might resist him in the magical realm. So for now..." Dumbledore nodded towards Kingsley and Tonks, "we have Order members in various arenas doing their best to counteract the damage. Voldemort has seen fit to use the Imperious Curse upon Muggle officials that will...claim to the deaths that their country is planning to wage war on their neighbors, and by using other corruptions of magic he is planting evidence in every way he can. And now he has begun the second part of his plan."
The fact that there was a second part of his plan...disturbed him. Greatly. The blurred one in the room, Casper, however, he just continued to drink from his glass of wine as if none of this was news to him.
"Do allow me to tell this part Albus, I have been dying to feel important for hours over these two's shouting matches." Casper took another swallow of his grape derived beverage, before tilting his glass towards Dumbledore as if asking for permission.
Dumbledore gave it, and Casper immediately grinned. "Ah good, well you see kiddos, just in case his plan of war waging between the Muggles fails, he's taken other measures to ensure that he kills as many Muggles as possible in other ways. For starts, via a magical disease that was just released in Dublin. I quite imagine that half the population of it will be dead within the week." Spinning his goblet, he continued, "Eradication of the Muggle race has always been one of his more friendly goals, you see."
How one was supposed to respond to such a casual informing of impending mass casualties Harry did not know, but things within his head were beginning to pound even harder as Casper casually placed down his wine glass, getting to his feet with a casual air, wiping his hands upon his cloak as if he harbored little concern in the world. And when he again spoke, Casper's voice was almost jovial.
"The other particularly brilliant feature of this plague, for our avid listeners who have not yet put the details together," the man winked in Kaylens direction, causing a slight uprising in Harry's chest that he was ill equipped to define, "is that the Muggles may just deem it an unnatural cause and claim that it is biological warfare. Such a fear ought to drive them to war even quicker, while killing hundreds of thousands more than a simple war would be capable of on its own. And the magical virus itself I must say is quite brillian-"
"Try to not sound so happy about it, Caspy."
Harry heard Tonks' uncharacteristic sarcasm, but his gaze was fixated upon the man who had uttered the jovial words himself. Breathing controlled, but anything from calm, he slowly, slowly ground, "How exactly would you know about the virus? Unless you were the one to makeit?" Dumbledore might trust the man, but right now...
Angelina had been a traitor, and anyone who could talk about something like this so casually...
To his damn shock Casper looked right at him, all amusement leaving his tone. "Actually, I'm the one who stole the initial vial of it, and did away with their surplus stock." A rather strange note reentering the man's voice, he continued, "Before you jump to heroic conclusions there, oh Boy Who Lived."
Harry immediately bristled, every muscle in himself suddenly going taut, his leg making to move-
The sudden clamping of fingers around his arm, however, had every muscle in him immediately freeze, going very still as he directed his heated glare at the hand on his upper arm, the sight of the slender, smooth damn fingers covering his bicep enough to make him pause.
A moment later he'd drug his gaze to the hazel one the fingers were attached to, his brow creasing hard at the sight of her. Kalliandra. The witch had been so quiet since they'd stormed down from the second floor landing and entered this room that he could have forgotten she was there if he'd really wanted to. When exactly she'd drawn near enough to actually touch him though...
Her gaze actually plead with him, for a moment, her tone equally subtle. "Try listening," she suggested quietly, "before jumping to conclusions." For a fleeting second her gaze flickered from his towards Casper, then back again. "Or you know, on him." It took him another second to grasp her meaning, but when he did...
He could have snorted, half-bitterly, half-amused. The witch might not have let him know her, or let him inside her mind, but she apparently recognized when he was intending on throwing himself at someone out of anger.
To be damn fair, she ought to. He'd jumped her before to, right before pulling out a clump of her hair.
Her fingers were slowly releasing their hold on his arm, and eyeing the spot on his arm for a moment, feeling the loss of contact, feeling things in his chest pounding furiously at everything he had just heard, pounding furiously at the mere contact with her, he took a long, steadying breath.
Then he turned his gaze back onto Casper, moving it between he and Dumbledore. Many questions swarmed through his pounding mind right then. Demands to know if the man had been a Death Eater, if he'd been able to get close enough to steal the vial. Demands to know why Dumbledore trusted him then. Demands to know exactly who he was behind the blurring concealment charm. Demands to know if they had enough members of the Order to even have a prayer of countering all the attacks of so many damn forms that Voldemort was unleashing in addition to his usual mealy. But instead, only one thing seemed important.
"So," he ground seriously, everything in the room silent. "What do we do about it?"
ECOTS
"Ennervate."
Her knees struck the floor as the young woman dropped down alongside the recently stunned figure. Hermione's hand was already shaking him awake, his dark, Bulgarian eyes opening to view the witch who had stunned him, but the Gryffindor was wasting no time with small talk, already shoving a carefully folded letter at his chest, her clenched fingers striking him forcefully. "You meant what you said?" Her fingers, spotted with quill ink, did not release the letter, her gaze flickering earnestly over his as she tried to glean a measure of truth from him. Wetting her lips, she pressed, "Then get this out of here and send it. To Albus Dumbledore." Voldemort already knew that he was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, so sending it to him wouldn't reveal anyone else's identity.
Her tangled hair hanging around her face, it formed a veil as she waited, and then...
Viktor nodded. His large hand moved, slowly, and trying to not tense Hermione held her ground, not moving as a hand large enough to crush a snitch wrapped around the letter she'd thrust at his downed form. Still, her fingers did not let go, not even as his grip tightened around hers, her heart hammering fearfully within her chest. Him sending it...it was a gamble, for herself if he turned it into the Death Eaters, and for him if he were telling the truth about having only joined the Death Eaters to try to stop them, and they caught him with it. If either were the case, she knew what they would do to them if they were caught. Still...
If he were telling the truth, it was worth the risk if it could save her friends.
Viktor Krum's grip tightened around her hand, carefully, as if he were being careful to nothurt her. "Hermy-owh-ninny, vou can let go now."
Nearly shaking, she did. Immediately she leant back on the ground, her knees folding under her as she watched Viktor begin to gingerly get up. She made no move to follow. Instead, she found him pausing there with her, on the ground of the ornately decorated room, the lines of his conflicted expression upon her. Closing her eyes, swallowing, she quietly questioned, "What?"
The hand that grabbed a hold of her chin both surprised her and did not, but it was enough for her to sharply draw in her breath. Still, keeping her eyes determinedly closed, as if looking at him would make her believe him, she felt his large fingers tracing along her jawbone. "I am going to vay," came his deep voice, "vhat I made a move on you, and that vou bit me." At this...
His grip left her jaw, and she felt, rather than saw, him moving away from her.
Towards the doorway.
Her intonations barely held steady, her vocalization soft, quiet. "Viktor." Not looking towards him, her eyes still closed, she quietly finished, "Be careful."
"We fight, Harry." Gaze steady upon Dumbledore, Harry's jaw set, the knowledge of the true extent of Voldemort's evilness growing.
He had thought he'd known how evil the creature that had once been known as Tom Riddle had been before. But now...
He knew the creature was worse.
Dumbledore's gaze turned down, looking at him from over his half-moon spectacles, nothing granfatherly or paternal in his tone. Instead, bellying the calm expression, his words were spoken like a man who would not fail. "We put a stop to as many of the attacks as we can, Harry, save as many as we can, and we fight. Because if we do not, then he has already won."
Besides him Harry felt, more than heard, the quickening of Kaylens' breathing, her words coming quietly. "And if there aren't enough of us?" Immediately Harry's gaze nearly jerked towards her, eyes hard as he just looked at her, not liking what he heard. If there weren't enough of us...Kaylens should not be included in this, in this conversation, in this fight, anything. She-
"We have to hope," came Tonks shockingly calm voice, jarring him from his thoughts, "that there will be."
The line of his mouth grew strained, gaze moving between those adults present. Nymphadora Tonks, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, and Albus Dumbledore. The war was no longer just brewing, or limited to violence between a select few who had chosen to fight back. It had spread, into two worlds, and now there was nothing to do other than to fight back, or die.
Releasing a hard breath, Harry's gaze turned onto Dumbledore. "You said wefight." Letting the phrase linger, for a moment, nothing other than pure intensity in his gaze, he heavily questioned, "That mean the Order is going to let me start helping?" This time the sound of shaking breath did not come from him.
It came from Kaylens, besides him. Though he did not look at her. He couldn't.
He was focused on Dumbledore, observing the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry as the man's face bore on a look of determination, one he had not seen the man utilize in his direction before. "I believe it would be best, Harry, at this juncture, to let you know that there are those within the Order who will feel...that I am making a mistake, that you are too young. However..." the man's blue eyes swiveled away from him for the briefest of moment's, falling upon the Reach beside him, before turning back. "Please consider this your official induction into the Order." Something in Harry stirred, something stirred almost violently, but his gaze remained steadily upon the Headmaster, his voice speaking out one determined question.
"What about Ron and Hermione?" His friends...
They deserved it as much as he had. And watching the Headmaster, he saw the brief shadow of pain cross the man's face, as if he were truly pained for any of it to have come to this. "Hermione will be upon her return. Ron has already been informed," he told him steadily, "as has Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Ginny Weasley." Harry's expression betrayed his thoughts, Dumbledore immediately holding up a staying hand. "I would trust, that of all those within the school, that you would trust the two that also stood beside you within the Department of Mysteries, Harry. And better to admit them to what we are doing, so that they can be trained, then to allow them both to be used against us, as Miss Weasley was within Hogsmeade." Clamping him jaw closed, Harry's teeth ground. But he knew Dumbledore was right.
Ginny could fight, better than most. Luna continually surprised him. And Neville...was learning.
He just needed the confidence.
It was then that it struck him that Dumbledore was telling him this, the identities of other Order members, in front of Kaylens. Immediately his gaze darted back towards her, finding her studying Dumbledore with a furrowed brow, confliction written in every angle of her face. For a moment she did not appear to notice his scrutiny, and then...
Her gaze turned, briefly, towards him. For a second she said nothing, her lips parting to only breath, and then...
Her words were directed to Dumbledore. "Did-"
"I was including you," Dumbledore interrupted her, not unkindly, as if reading her half-spoken thoughts, "in the invitation, Miss Kaylens. That is, if you are interested?" Observing Dumbledores expression of query, Harry's gaze darted between the two, his thoughts coming out in his solitary action.
Immediately he'd tensed, then left, abruptly, grabbing the door and throwing it open, stopping only long enough to stiffly tell Dumbledore a solitary phrase. "Thank you." In the corridor of Grimmauld a moment later he released his breath, angrily as he slammed his hand against the wall, stopping only at the sudden sound of following footsteps.
He didn't have to ask whose they were. He'd already turned around, every ounce of warring anger within him turned upon her. "You have to say no." Not giving a damn that he was telling her what to do, not giving a damn that she'd stopped an arm's length from him, her entire form going very still, he darkly threw, "You can't even do magic, Kaylens. You're not yet entirely in your right mind. You'll get yourself killed."
Not thinking on why the thought of her joining the Order, being thrown into harm's way, was making him react, he instead ignored the cringe she gave and stormed a step closer to her, stopping only by sheer force of will. Breathing hard, breathing unsteadily, the anger churning in him only barely held in check, he gutturally ground, "What if...you're being attacked and suddenly forget who you are?" Looking at her, waiting for response, he darkly ground in continuation, "Thinking that you're some unicorn frolicking in the forest will only give us another body to clean up, Kaylens, and it isn't going to helpanyone. You-"
She interrupted him, words coming quietly, but still spoken loud enough for him to hear. "I already said yes."
Gaze on her, his retinas adjusting to the darkness of Grimmauld's hall without him even being aware, he fixed her with a conflicted look. "Why?" Finding his fists slowly tightening, tensing, then uncoiling to give his unaccounted for anger some form of physical manifestation that didn't involve hexing down objects, his jaw moved, to inform her that she was going to die if she thought she could play with the Order. Hell, he already knew he would. That was the end of it all, wasn't it? Him vs. Riddle. One man left standing. Regardless, she beat him to it.
"They've already taken everything else from me, Potter." Watching her in the damn dark, her crystalline gaze showing more than he wanted to see as she looked back at him, his jaw tightened. "What more could they possibly take?"
Looking at her, not touching her, his throat vibrated roughly, voice lowered. "Your life, for starts." Gaze roaming over hers, finding her gaze clearer than it had been an hour before when she'd awoken, still half-thinking she was a different species from what Angelina had done to her, he more forcefully pressed, "Or worse, they could leave you with your life, Kaylens, and just take the rest of your mind from you." The thought of Neville's parents flew through his skull, his expression grim. "Or is being insane a thought you're particularly fondof?"
Something scuttled within the wall, Harry ignoring it. Rats in the rotting wood were not his concern. The witch, no...Reach, the one who looked like her left arm had started to tremble, right in front of him though was. "It'd be better," she whispered, shadowed lips scarcely moving, "then knowing I could have helped and didn't. Besides," pausing, he just watched her, watched the way her gaze suddenly broke from his, her gaze falling to look at the floor, tendrils of hair falling over her countenance to obscure it as her shoulders rose with an indrawn breath. Stonily he uttered nothing, just waiting until her gaze finally again rose to find his, something steely shining within it now. "Besides," she pressed, her breaths sounding shaken, "if I'm going to lose my mind anyway, ought to make the best use of my time that I canbefore that, shouldn't I?"
It didn't take him even a moment to grasp her meaning, but her meaning...it had his teeth grinding, words coming out from between his clenched incisors. "Right. So you'd rather go down from a hex then from rotting in the Janus Thickery Ward of Mungo's?" Spotting the immediate shadow of confusion across her countenance, he bitterly elaborated, "Their lunatic ward, Kaylens."
Something in her gaze flickered at that, the witch actually looking shaken for a shadow of a second. Her eyes darted away from his, the sound of her shallow, swift breaths the only thing to alert him to her inner distress. "Do you really think," she finally questioned, tone sounding wrong, sounding soft, "that I'll go insane?" Watching the tendons within her throat subtly move as she swallowed, her eyes flickered back to his, searching. "Even after the wall you put up in my mind for me?"
That...it had him tensing perhaps further, his brow creasing hard as he studied her. "You remember that then?" She had been so far gone he hadn't known what she would or would not, but the fact that she did...
She was looking at him incredulously, her head shaking so slightly. "You-" Pausing, Kaylens looking like what she was saying was actually hard, she murmured, "you saved me. Pulled me out of something else's memories when I couldn't discern which were mine and which were its. Sorted my memories from its. How could I-" Shaking her head, she murmured, "how could I notremember that?" For a second she just looked at him, right back at him, and then...
Kaylens turned away, her good hand rising to riffle through her hair in seeming frustration as he watched, her side and shoulder towards him as she let out a half-hysterical laugh. "This is...this is just...the person that saved me doesn't even think that I'm going to stay sane." A quiet, bitter sounding, laugh came from between her lips again, Kaylens other hand rising to rifle through her hair as well, her hands stopping on either side of her head. "This is...stupid. Ridiculously-"
She turned to leave, not getting more than a step before he'd unwillingly stopped her, his grip grabbing onto her good arm, doing nothing more than that. He didn't pull her back, didn't twist her around to face him, just tightened his callused fingers around her upper arm, her back still towards him. For a second he didn't utter a word as she went still, very still, his voice vibrating unwittingly. Anger still swarmed within him, anger at her, anger at Dumbledore for even wanting someone like her to help the Order, but..."What-" Pausing, releasing a hard breath, he finished, "What is it, Kaylens, that was stupid?" It was another long movement before she responded, and when she dd...
Her form twisted, just enough for him to be able to again look at her, though neither he nor her made a move to remove his grip from where it was upon her. Instead her gaze just looked at him for a second, something hurt, untrusting within it as she spoke. "It was stupid," she quietly said, "for me to think that someone who would go through so much trouble to fix me, might actually think I could help with something and not be entirely useless." Watching her lips wetting, she shook her head suddenly, a sigh escaping her as she looked away from him. "Especially when that person," she even more quietly continued, "has seen every reason I have for hating them, seen every reason I could have for wanting to help."
He knew, immediately, what she spoke of. Her family. The Death Eaters had killed them, just like they had killed so many other families, and he had seen the memory in her mind as clear as if he had lived through it himself.
"That still," he lowly ground, "doesn't mean you can. Even if you wanted to Kaylens..." shaking his head at her. "You still can't do magic. Like it or not those in this war canand that pre-magicked stick you've been carrying around isn't going to be enough against dark magic."
Still, Kaylens did not look at him, but this time...
It was not Kaylens voice that answered him.
It was Dumbledore's.
Harry was so startled he nearly jerked Kaylens in the opposite direction of the sudden voice, only barely restraining himself. Kaylens had jerked, just a little, Dumbledore's voice floating over them both. "Just because one cannot do the magic we can, Harry, does not mean they could not help in other ways." Hearing his approaching footsteps, Dumbledore came into view around the corridor's turn, his tired, kindly eyes looking upon them both. "Surely, Harry, you remember that we have had our fair share of Squibs within the Order? We have always been welcoming to anyone who had the desire to help, whom we could trust, and Remus, Hagrid and I all have found her trustworthy." The pointed look Dumbledore was giving him...
It had him somehow calming, only somewhat though. Regardless...
His grip abruptly released Kaylens' arm, his gaze avoiding hers. Part of him was...irritated, that he had desired membership in the Order for years, only to be kept in the dark, and then suddenly Ginny, Neville, Kaylens...were all admitted at the same time as he was. Yet...
"We are not like the Death Eaters, Harry, only accepting help based on the type of blood one possesses. And right now..." Dumbledore had removed his half-moon spectacles, polishing them upon his robes. Pausing, then holding them up in the deeply shadowed corridor, Dumbledore continued, "And right now, Harry, we need all of the help that we can get."
With that...
Dumbledore began to walk away, whistling an out-of-place, whimsical tune for what they had been discussing. As the Headmaster began to round the corner though, he paused only long enough to afford him a bit of a smile as he fitted his half-mood spectacles back upon his nose. "You know Harry, phoenixes have always had the most interesting types of vision..." Trailing off, resuming his whistling without finishing his thought, Dumbledore was gone, leaving Harry staring after him.
It wasn't until Kaylens moved that he was able to shake himself. Making no move to stop her this time, he resignedly uttered one word after her. "Wait."
Somewhere, over the houses of London, a shadowed owl was moving with speed towards where Albus Dumbledore strode, within Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.
And so moving, were the Death Eaters.
