Chapter 25 ~ Burn it to the Ground ~ Part 1

"Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers, but to be fearless in facing them. Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it. Let me not look for allies in life's battlefields, but to my own strength. Let me not cave in."
~ Rabindranath Tagore


ECOTS


"Kaylens, wait."

Fists clenching, tightening, then loosening, Harry felt the tension crawling through him as he just stood there, waiting, his back towards her. The corridor's darkness pressed around him like a dementor's smothering robe, Dumbledore's carefree whistling echoing from far off in Grimmauld, sounding like nothing more than the ghostly echoes of a time gone past, and Harry...

Waited.

The Order of the Phoenix had admitted him. Finally. Him, Ron, Neville, Ginny, Kaylens, Hermione."

The Order was desperate. The war was erupting into the Muggle world, had already erupted. They were fighting it on too many frontiers and needed help.

And they'd let a not witch that could not do wand magic into it with him. She was going to die. He knew it, felt it, and the thought...it had his chest tensing. Back still towards her, hearing nothing from her, no sound of retreat, no verbal response, not even a breath, he clenched his gaze shut, the musculature in his shoulders tensing tight as he verbally ground, "Just...wait."

It was then that he heard it, her subtle breathing in the darkened corridor. "Why?"

Aged floorboards creaking beneath the weight of him, he slowly drug in a long breath, chest filling, expanding as he steeled himself, his grip still tightly clenching. Why? Why did he want her to wait? He didn't even know that much. What he did know..."You didn't answer," he lowly, slowly ground, "my question." Not waiting, nor giving her a chance to even ask which one, he tensely twisted to view her, to view her for a long...damn moment. "Would you really," he questioned, "rather go down from a hex?"

Gaze upon her, finding the angular lines of her face visible even in the dark, he watched as her gaze did not waver. Nor did her voice. "Yes." Remaining in silence for another long moment, he just stood there, looking back over his shoulder at her, watching her, the way her brow was creasing, the conflict in her gaze, her parting lips as she spoke softly. "Wouldn't you? Wouldn't-" She stopped, her gaze breaking away from his, her entire face turning away as she conflictedly looked at something only she could see. "Wouldn't it be better to risk everything, to stopthem, then to..."

The witch lifted a hand, running it through her hair as she shook her head once more, strands of neither blonde nor brown, but golden tresses falling haphazardly around her face with the motion. "Wouldn't it be better to die doing that, then to die of anything else?" Her eyes flickered back towards him, her brow furrowing harder, something suddenly hard in her voice. "I killed my own brother, Harry. Because I didn't know what I was, what I was doing. I stole his energy to live without meaning to, all because those-" she broke off, her chest rising and falling more swiftly, "All because those people, those people in masks, hurtus."

Realization crawled over him. What he'd seen inside her mind, when she'd been reaching for her brother, unable to touch him as they'd lain there dying.

She'd killed him. Without meaning to. She'd been dying, and drawing on his energy had been enough to keep her heart beating. And doing that...had preserved herself.

Coldly he realized exactly why her every word upon meeting had been hard, brash to the point of sounding scripted. Why her personality had seemed to oscillate so quickly.

When it'd oscillated that had been who shewas, but when it'd been abrasive, angered at them so much as speaking to her...

That had been her forcing them away.

Suddenly her fear of him in the room, when she had awoken, begging him to stay away from her, made complete sense.

Kaylens head was slowly shaking, her bare feet taking a step back, away from him, her toes sending the floorboards creaking. "My life has to mean something, Potter. After that...I can't not have it. It wouldn't be fair to him."

"Getting yourself killed," he powerfully retorted, "is not the way to make amends for it, Kaylens." He knew it, he knew that only too well, for all the blood on his hands...

Getting himself killed would not bring them back, but it wouldn't stop him from fighting. And that realization...

Cursedly he suddenly got why she thought fighting was the answer for her.

Not liking it, not wanting to accept that, he grimaced, another question thrown out before he could stop himself. "And if you get hurt, again? Overdraw and kill whoevers trying to help you?" Watching her, he caustically threw, "The past does repeat itself, Kaylens. What then?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth her expression had changed, it looking like Kaylens was suddenly having a hard time breathing.

An instant later she'd turned, her intent to leave clear.

He didn't let her get that far.

Upon her in two steps he'd grabbed a hold of her arm, Kaylens making an angered move, jerking her arm abruptly, almost viciously away from him.

He didn't let her. In a beat he'd forcefully wrenched her back around to him, pinning her against the wall. The slight exhalation she gave he ignored, for the feel of her lithe form trapped between the aged drywall and him had his attention. Unmoving, Harry's grip tensed against her arms, jaw setting, tensing. Then, slowly, he forced his hands to loosen, methodically, slowly.

But he did not let go.

"Do you have any idea," he lowly, gutturally ground, "how dangerous fighting them is?" Something in his tone vibrated, wanting to make her understand. It wasn't just dangerous for her, it was dangerous for anyone fighting near her.

As he looked at her, her gaze flickering with defiance, fear, weariness, flashes of the Department of Mysteries battle flew through his own skull. Flashes of Hogsmeade. Flashes of Ginny and Professor Tres' unseeing gazes as they hexed down students, killing curses flung. Flashes of Remus changing into a werewolf right in front of them. Flashes of herlaying face down in a pool of violently rippling water, reeds swaying heavily in the rain around her.

Without thinking, unaware he was doing it, his gaze had clenched shut, his breathing growing harsh, labored.

He felt her move, beneath his grip he felt her arm move ever so slightly, the rising temptation to tighten his grip upon her, to stopher from moving away, there.

Only she didn't move away.

Slender fingers covered his own, where they held firm against her shoulder. The brush of her flesh over his was barely there, until Kaylens reassuringly tightened her grip over his. The sounds of her breaths, very near, he both heard and felt. Cracking his gaze, Harry looked at her, finding her hazel coloured orbs looking right back in the deep shadows of Grimmauld. For a long second neither uttered a word, the fact that the witch had her hand over his, on her own accord, for the second time not lost on him. It was her gaze though, the tremulous fear flickering within them, that answered his question without words.

Her lips moved regardless. "I already know, Potter." Watching her lips wet, Kaylens nerves there, no longer concealed within her countenance, she softly murmured, "You've seen how I know."

And he knew that she was right.

She already knew how dangerous they were.

Flashes of what he'd seen within her mind came, of Death Eaters swarming upon a house, hauling out a dark haired girl by her hair. The reverberating crack of a man's neck being broken. The sounds of gunfire from within a house as smoke billowed up from where the fires had been set. The flash of her face being thrust down into mud, a Death Eater's furious grip on her hair as they attempted to drown her, mud-laden water being spat from her mouth as she attempted to cry out for her brother, father, anyone.

"And I am not," came her voice, "ever going to hurt anyone else again. Not unless I intendto."

And again, he knew exactly what she was referring to. Ludo Bagman, killing him..

He felt her move, and not thinking, not caring to, he let her, just feeling the movement of her fingers over his own. His breathing grew strained, the anger that'd coursed through him before, at the mere thought of her joining the Order, still there, but fought back by her touch.

She was right. She had lost as much as he had, as much as Neville had, as much as Hermione had, even if she didn't know it. She had every right to fight as much as they did.

Gaze reopening, his brow creased, heavily. The stale air of Grimmauld breathed in through his nostrils, things warred within him.

Then, jaw setting, his grip flipped, grabbing a hold of her hand that had been covering his, his callused fingers tightening around her smaller fingers. His other hand was already grabbing at the back of her head, his brow dropping against hers, his body pressing her against the wall, trapping her there, not bothering to apologize as he just breathed her in for a damn moment.

Then he talked, his gaze cracking to view her close countenance. "Then when you fight," he told seriously, "you stay by me. Don't stray. Don't fall back. You make sure you always have someone with a wand by-"

Her head was already shaking against his, her hair getting tangled between his fingers with the motion. "I can't help," she said, Harry not missing the trace of sadness in her tonality, "if I'm just another person for all of you to protect, Potter." Feeling her chest rise, to press against his with her indrawn breath, she continued, "I'm not going to throw myself into any duels, Potter. I'd die. I get that. But I'm still going to help where I can."

Things in him tensed, his tone strained. "I'm still not going to like it."

He was cursedly aware of Kaylens golden gaze flickering over him, as searching as her intoned query. "Why?"

Looking at her, seriously, his brow creased against hers, his grip against the back of her head moving on its own accord. "Don't," he echoed, repeating words he'd told her far too recently, "play dumb by asking why."

Watching her, watching her lips part for a second in sudden understanding, he didn't give her a chance to utter another word.

He'd seized her mouth, needing to. Though the warmth of her lips were not responding, not moving against his. Hand tightening against the back of her head, his lips having seized hers, he slowly, carefully tried again, moving his mouth over first her upper, then her lower lip, finding...

That Kaylens was entirely still, as if frozen, the warmth of her breath felt fiercely against his own, but she had not moved her lips back against his own. Even her hand covering his grip upon her had grown unnaturally still.

Gaze beginning to reopen, something twisting in him, for it had been a mistake, his grip loosened on the back of her head as he began to pull back-

He didn't get the chance.

An unhappy murmur expelled from between her lips, and in an impulse Kaylens moved against him, her hand pressing against his chest, lithe fingers curling against his clothing, nails digging against the skin beneath. The feel of her lips pressing with fervor against his...

Ignorant of what he was doing, Harry was pressing her harder against the corridor's wall, dust flaking down from a macabre portrait at the disturbance, but he didn't care. He was reveling in the feel of her lips, her scent, her taste, in the fact that she was alive, capable of doing this with him at all, capable of knowing who she was long enough for him to touch.

Kaylens was no longer frozen beneath his touch, the slight movements of her form against his, of her hands sliding against his chest, of her waist against his eliciting an appreciative sound from him. Breathing...wasn't important. Maintaining contact with her was.

It wasn't until a throat cleared, followed by a rather triumphant sounding "Ah ha! Busted!" that Kaylens abruptly stopped her exploration of his mouth, her chest heaving against his own, her gaze darting open at the same time as his.. Though where hers looked marginally stricken, his was rather taken with sending her a disgruntled glare for stopping. The slight light that was suddenly in the corridor, emitting from someone's wand as Lumoswas incanted sent shadows playing over, caressing the angles of Kaylens' cheekbones, and Harry...

Was enjoying the show.

Not moving, not making any sign of acknowledgement of the interrupting parties other than to address them, he kept his gaze upon Kaylens, his greeting rather dry. "We can't possibly be blocking the entire hall." Gaze intent upon the witch he had been reveling in, watching the shadow of disbelief at what he was doing crossing her face, he continued casually, "Surely two fully qualified wizards such as yourselves can find a way around two clearly busy parties." With that...

Harry cast Tonks a rather pointed look, that would only fail to read as get lostto the utmost oblivious or legitimately blind.

Tonks, regrettably, seemed to be the former. The Auror actually bounced, giving him a frightening sort of grin. "Wotcher snoggers. Now Harry," watching in some slight horror as Tonks began gesturing with her hands, "you should be grabbing the girl's waist. Positively makes witches squeal. Gives you better control too-ooOW!"

Kingsley had taken that opportune moment to walk by, grabbing Tonks by the ear and tugging her with him, muttering something under his breath, whilst Tonks attempted to wave. Casper, to the man's credit, merely made a rather disgusted sound that sounded suspiciously like Teenagers, before dryly calling after the other two, "So, we're just leaving them here to disgrace the House of Black further then?"

Kingsley's only response was a grunt back, while Tonks guffawed loudly.

Casper merely looked after them, following as he dryly mused aloud, quite intentionally being loud enough for multiple parties to hear, "It really is quite a shame that werewolf of your isn't around Nymphadora. I am beginning to think perhaps some quality time grooming him might just assuage your inappropriate comments towards this house's present teenage populace."

And even though the man's face was under a charm to remain indistinct and unidentifiable, Harry did not miss the wink.

Harry's head slowly swiveled to follow their progress, ensuring that they were indeed gonefor more than a moment. Something about that man, other than the fact that he had evidently been a Death Eater at some point in time, set off...something in him. Not a warning, but something else. It was as if the man were familiar...

He shook it off, for now.

The muscle inside his chest was still pounding fiercely, his grip upon Kaylens tightening, then loosening, flexing upon her form. Tonks, Kingsley, and Casper were gone, and slowly he turned his attention back upon the girl he had a hold of, remaining silent for a long moment. Finally his eyebrow rose. "You'd think," he finally said, "they'd have better things to do."

Kaylens gaze remained directed down the corridor, her subtle glare in the direction they had gone showing her agreement.

Harry, however, wasn't content with being distracted, his grip sliding lower upon her form. "Well," he questioned, slight challenge in his tone, his fingers gripping above her hips tight, "that waist grabbing tip of hers...it working?"

Despite everything, every solitary reason there was not to, the line of his mouth quirked into something almost deviant as he watched her reaction, Kaylens' gaze turning back onto him, her lips parting in seeming exasperation at him. "How often exactly," she questioned him, golden coloured eyes narrowing slightly, "does Tonks give you tips?"

Single handed grip flexing upon her waist now, his other hand pulling her head back against his, he muttered seriously, "So infrequently," he told, "that it's rather pathetic, actually. In fact, this would be a first."

"Don't you mean second?"

Observing her very near gaze, dragging his grip up along her side, he merely raised his brows against hers. "Not unless," he told with mock seriousness, "you happened to have rendered me unconscious at some point whilst Tonks gave me snogging technique tips when we were in the middle of the woods."

Kaylens gaze only narrowed more skeptically, her lips twitching just a bit. "Speaking of, what happened to that staying in the clearing?"

His own mouth twitched in response. "Apparently," he dryly told, "we moved it to dark corridors."

Her grip on the clothing covering his chest tightened, as if to express her displeasure with that. "I meant," she said, "that pink haired witch's comments in the other room about bedroom activities." Pointedly raising her brow, she added through the stale air, "I don't seem to recollect anything of the sort, unless there are some half-out-of-my-mind-induced activities you need to be filling me in on still?"

Finding her fingers against his chest a distraction, it took considerable effort to discern what she meant. When he finally did his expression betrayed his amusement, the odd sensation that he ought to have at any discussion of things like that ignored. "If there were," he told with subtle humor, "it's a shame, because I missed them." Still watching her, he finally ground, "So...you think because of Tonks comments that I told her we snogged in the woods, and then she expanded upon it then?" Slowly, methodically he allowed his grip to toy with the hem of her shirt. Something in his gut ought to have been bothered by that, by the thought that Kaylens might be bothered that someone other than themselves knew about whatever it was they had done, but it didn't.

"Didn't utter a word about it, Kaylens. Just her observation from my behavior with you when you were out of it." Hand going still on the hem of her shirt, gaze firm upon hers, a long moment passed in silence.

Then his throat vibrated, seriously. "Would it really have been so bad, if I had?"

Gaze roaming over hers, his hand unconsciously moved, the backs of his fingers feeling the bared warmth of her skin, just beneath her shirt's hem. Waiting for response, he found his breathing was unnaturally controlled.

It wasn't until Kaylens opened her mouth to speak, that he realized how damn badly he'd wanted an answer to that.

He didn't get it.

Because right then the world outside of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place exploded in a fiery blast.


ECOTS


"Let me go! Please! Plea-MUMMY!"

With a hiss of disgust she threw the child to the ground by her hair, the black clad witch that had torn the pathetic excuse of a human from her house leveling her wand at her, the filthy Muggle ingrate. Behind her, the house they had just finished invading and cleansing burned, deep, billowing black smoke puffing up into the night sky.

The Death Eater followed the acrid smokes ascent, watching as it disappeared against the night's inky blackness, blotting out the few stars that could be seen over London. The crackling of flames greedily licking at wooden boards, searing away at the pathetic plastics and insulation that those filthy Muggles used to shelter against cold weather was heard, and the Death Eater threw her head back and laughed.

A sudden creaking filled the air, a sudden cacophony of noise erupting as the second floor of the home collapsed down onto the first, floorboards crashing and breaking in a thunderous bullet of sound, the impact throwing a wave of heat out onto the street that struck at all who remained near it.

The screams of the Muggles they had left laying, bleeding in that front yard were like music.

It was the pathetic whimpering of the Muggle child that re-drew the Death Eater's attention back onto her. A cruel and vicious smile crawled over her ruby red lips, lips that had been tainted with the stain of blood already once that night. Slowly the witch walked, her high heels clicking a frightening, unnatural melody against the filth of Grimmauld Street, and when she reached the young girl...

The Death Eater crouched down as nimbly as a feline prowling after its already maimed prey, and carefully extending an elegantly crafted, sharp, blood red finger nail, the witch shoved it under the young girl's jaw, forcing the cowering Muggle girl's face up.

The pathetic creature was wimpering. How predictable. "You want your mummy little girl?" Watching the tears roll from the little blonde creature's face, the Death Eater's lips curled in joy as she tilted her head to the side, a cruel, sinister smile playing along her lips. Tongue licking out slowly, as if tasting the redness of her own lips, she made a contemplative sound. "Do you like games little Muggle girl?" Watching as the little Muggle's head rose, the girl down on the blacktop on all fours, shivering and whimpering like a stray animal, she sinisterly continued, "I so love games little girl. I played one of my favorites with a sweet little brat and her mummy in a zoo not too long ago. Would you like to know how we played the game?"

On the ground, the little Muggle whimpered, and suddenly breaking away she tried to crawl away, backwards.

The Death Eater practically rolled her eyes, whilst behind her fellowDeath Eaters could be heard laughing into the night as they pulled yet another Muggle family viciously from their homes.

She had extracted such delicious information from that Granger girl's mind. Information that those little annoying birdies of Dumbledore's indeed did have a Headquarters, and that it was somewhere around here.

What a shame that old man had felt the need to put such stringent protections upon it, to the point that they could not even extract its precise location from that Potter friend's memories. If he had not been so keen on caution, then they would not have to be killing so many of these fool Muggles. Then again...

She so loved a little Muggle killing to start off her night.

Slowly rising to her feet, the Death Eater watched as the little Muggle girl continued trying to crawl desperately away, and she clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Now now little girl," she cooed after her, "do you know how terribly rude it is to run away in the middle of the game? I wasn't done playing with you yet." With a callous flick of her wand the little girl was violently yanked upwards by an invisible force, the blonde curl's hanging towards the ground as the Death Eater suspended her upside down in the air, the child screaming hysterically.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah," she chastised, waving a blood red fingernail at the child.

It was only then that something, something that rather looked like a stick, fell out of the child's clothing, clattering upon the street's damp pavement.

The Death Eater tilted her head at this, a sly look crossing her features as she slowly sauntered towards it, kicking it over with her crimson pointed toe. Her tongue licked out across her ruby red lips deliciously. "How curious. You aren't a little Muggle are you little witch? Oh no, you're a little Mudblood aren't you?"

With a slash of her wand she threw the child's body high into the air, leaving her suspended there, trapped for all to see within five hundred meters. The Death Eater let out a haunting, racauous laugh as another house began to burn, "Oh Albus! Darling! I have a little gift for you and your little friends. I so know how much you love your little Mudbloods!" Hearing the loud, fierce crackling of a half dozen houses beginning to burn, the Death Eater's lips curled as she looked up and down the Muggle street, watching, waiting.

It was so rude of the Order of the Phoenix to be taking so long, after all, to come out and play at their own housewarming party.


ECOTS


The explosion slammed into Grimmauld with a fiery fury, the defenses of the manor holding back the flaming frenzy that quickly engulfed the side of Number Ten Grimmauld Place. The force though...

The entire manor shook, the wood of the floors and walls dangerously jolted as the gas line in the home next door to it blew, the sound thunderous as it threw all the inhabitants off balance. The floor beneath he and Kaylens vibrated viciously, his fist slamming into the wall at the same time that he grabbed a hold of her, his grip on Kaylens waist unrelenting as he threw his head and arm over hers.

The rattling stopped, but the eerie sound of small pieces of dislodged debris raining down from cracks in the ceiling, from the shelves, from the portraits, continued like unabated rain.

Coughing, he grimaced against the dust that had been dislodged from between the floorboards, literally rising in a cloud around them. And the sounds...

Outside...people were screaming. Tightening his hold upon Kaylens, his grip slid to her arm, his other grip already on his wand as he tensely waited, not moving, instead listeningwhere they were, in the corridor. Not lifting his head from over hers, breathing hard, his throat tightened.

The deafening blast had receded, leaving only silence, and the distant, muffled sound of human misery and pain.

A second later Mrs. Black's portrait began screaming with undead fury.

With a jerk he felt Kaylens head move against his, her countenance regarding him, disquiet storming within her gaze as the frenzied shouts of Mrs. Black bellowed down the corridor. The feel of her fingers wound in his shirt, the fearful tremor in her shallowly indrawn breaths as she winced at the influx of Mudblood lover insults, it had his gaze hardening, his jaw setting hard, something in him darkening.

"We need-"

"I know."

Kaylens fingers were already releasing her hold on him, her gaze darting in the same direction as his.

Down the hall.

In a moment they were both headed that way, Harry's voice a loud shout as they rounded the corner, thundering into the entryway. "Dumbledore!"

Tonks and Kingsley were already there. Tonks head was half down, half up, her hands clamped over her ears as she swore furiously at her great Aunt. "Shut up you outdated, rotting in the ground, ink-on-an-ugly-frame-"

The man whose face was blurred was leaning casually against the wall, by where the umbrella stand was, ignorant to anything the portrait or Tonks screamed. Crossing his legs casually, where he leaned, he twirled his wand as if preparing to go on an idle stroll. "Perhaps someone," he suggested, "should inform Albus we have some company."

Another loud blast rocked the world outside Grimmauld Place, Harry reflexively ducking as more dust rained down from the old ceilings of Order Headquarters, right before Kaylens voice caustically shouted back, "Oh yes, because I'm sure he didn'thear that?"

Tonks grabbed an umbrella and threw it at the portrait of Sirius' mother, whilst Kingsley had already stalked towards the fireplace, grabbing a hand of Floo powder and hurtling it in. The flames erupted in a frenzy of green, Kingsley shouting, "Hogwarts hospital wing!"before shoving his head, hoop earring swinging as he went, to shout through the Floo network.

Tonks was grabbing the draperies and trying to throw them closed, throwing a look at he and Kaylens. "Help with this! We don't need to advertise our position to anyone outside with-" Grunting as she planted her feet against a grandfather clock in her effort to shove the draperies over Mrs. Black's frame closed, she finished, "Shouting."

There wasn't even a chance to so much as move to help, when Dumbledore's voice interjected, Harry's head darting towards the sound, spotting the Headmaster standing upon the stairwell, a cold, calm resignedness upon his face. "I believe," he said, his half-moon spectacles fixated upon only one man within the room, "now would be the proper time to reintroduce yourself ."

Mrs. Black suddenly let out a shriek loud enough to send even Harry slamming his hands over his ears, Tonks shouting something about sending her a bill to pay for her maligned eardrums, when Caspar turned towards the painting, and began striding towards it.

His wand was already out in a single, regal motion, the wand's end twirling in a circular motion that sent the charm that hid his identity melting off, and the man did not stop.

It wasn't until the man was directly in front of the portrait of Mrs. Black that Harry was able to see his true face.

"Sirius..."

In the periphery of his vision he saw Kaylens head jerk towards him, confusion furrowing her brow, another thundering from outside sending more dust sprinkling down until it coated the floor in a fine layer. Tonks, shaking her head sideways to get the dust out of her vibrant coloured hair stopped mid-shake, her mouth forming into an 'O.'

"I am not," the man said, "my brother." With that the man who resembled Sirius so much waved Tonks aside, standing before the portrait in Grimmauld and commanding in a bellowing voice, "Mother! The time for prudencein your verbal articulations would be opportune sometime within the next twenty seconds, lest you desire your humble house of Black to be burnt to the ground by the marauding vandals outside."

Mrs. Black's shouting stopped mid-howl, her contorted, twisted features jerking down in affrontation at the sight that met her, her mouth forming an O eerily similar to Tonks when Sirius' brother made a disgusted sound, throwing the curtains closed and casting a complicated charm upon them.

The draperies shook viciously, but no sound emitted from behind them. The man turned towards the rest of them, a self-satisfied expression crossing his face. "A Black family secret, I am afraid. And no," he continued, glancing towards Tonks, "you do not count."

Harry had gone immobile, staring at the man in shock.

Dumbledore, however, intervened. "May I introduce you, Harry, to Regulus Black. Sirius' brother." Harry's hands had tightened into fists, staring at the man that had become as bad as the Death Eaters, the ones that had killed Sirius, and as he breathed hard Dumbledore interjected once more. "Now though, Harry, is not the time for introductions."

Grunting his understanding was all he could do, whilst Regulus leaned back against his wall, giving him a mock bit of a wave.

Before Harry had a chance to so much as hex him a hand had tightened onto his arm, his shoulder giving a hard shrug to throw them off, but the tightening fingers were not deterred. Forcing his breathing to remain controlled, he let his heated gaze slide towards them, already knowing who it was.

Kaylens serious gaze met his right back.

Gaze locking with hers, the musculature throughout the arm he touched only grew tenser. Kaylens didn't know who Sirius had been. She didn't know who Regulus Black had been. She didn't know anything about what was going on.

The sound of flames billowing out of the fireplace, signaling Kingsley finishing his Floo-ed conversation Harry heard. Clenching his gaze shut, hearing further indistinct, loud noises from outside, he steeled himself.

For amongst those sounds was one prominent one, one he could barely hear, yet somehow could.

It was the distant sound of a witch taunting, her voice infiltrating over the rest of the cacophony that must be occurring outside the manor. "Albus, Albus, Albuuuuus! Come and get your wittle studeennnt!"

Harry's gaze re-opened, finding that Kaylens was no longer looking at him, but looking past him, towards Kingsley.

"They're ready, Albus. Those at Hogwarts have been notified, as have those at the Ministry."

Ron. Neville. Remus. Ginny. His first thoughts about who might come.

It had his throat tight at the thought of any of them being in danger again.

Suddenly he grasped more than ever what half the fear of war was. Not of death to oneself, but of what would happen to the others.

It didn't matter.

"Then we wait."

At that Harry's gaze rounded onto Dumbledore and the Head of the Auror Division, a hard word on his tongue, but Dumbledore's hand, held up abruptly, silenced him. "We wait," Dumbledore reaffirmed, "until I give the word."

The sounds continued to drift, muffled through the walls of Grimmauld Place. "Your ittle bittle wittle students!"Dumbledore remained unmoving.

"I have received," he said slowly, "correspondence from Miss Granger, that she was able to smuggle out of where the Death Eaters are holding her, in the hands of a Death Eater whom she believes...may be on our side."

A soul wrenching cry cut through the outer paneling of Grimmauld manor, everyone wincing, the tension mounting.

"The Death Eaters," the Order's leader continued, "were able to force their way into Miss Granger's mind, so as to find out our headquarters approximate location in London."

Hermione. Harry breathed hard, his teeth practically grinding as he breathed harder.

"And since they were unable to discern our precise location, they are instead attacking this entire area of London, in an effort to pull us out, to expose us to something...they will have waiting for us."

The floorboards of Grimmauld Place shook with another impact, and tensing, Harry's fists ground tightly. Kaylens grip on his arm just tightened further, her gaze never leaving Dumbledore. Tonks fingers curled around her wand, the witch pacing animatedly back and forth in front of the door, whilst Kingsley bared his teeth in a malicious, un-Shacklebolt-type-of-smile. And Regulus...

He merely offered the room a macabre grimace. "I suppose," he dryly propounded, "that we will be waiting for some form of signalthen."

Dumbledore's kindly gaze fell upon all of them for a long moment, his tone finally stating, "As soon as they can, the Order members that are within distance will be apparating to spots surrounding Grimmauld street. We will coordinate our attack, our effort, as best we can, but I will not lie."

Dust flaked down from the ceiling as it again shook.

"We are outnumbered. And some of you..." Dumbledore's kindly gaze roamed towards himself and Kaylens, and he did not have to ask why, "are far too young, I believe, to have to bear witness to these horrors."

Another scream cut through the walls, and Harry nearly jerked his wand towards her when it was Kaylens, not Dumbledore, who next spoke.

"They're killing people. We don't have much choice."

Dumbledore's gaze rested upon them, and he nodded resolutely. "There is always a choice, Kalliandra. But I ask that you stay out of the direct dueling, and remain where you can make yourself most useful."

With her lack of wand abilities, beyond what her pre-magicked wand allowed, it was little wonder Dumbledore was asking that of her. The idea of her being anywhere near it though had Harry tensing, a distraction he did not need.

Kingsley tore his gaze away from the door, which he had taken to staring down like a bull, preparing to run through, long enough to argue, "I still say they are too young, Albus."

"I agree, but so many of our students, old friend, have seen more war than our most battle hardened members."

Harry's fists only tensed more, his gaze moving from Dumbledore to the door in agitation. "And why aren't we attacking now? We should already be out-"

"I know how you feel, Harry, but running into an attack when you are outnumbered, without the element of surprise, won't help them." Tonks' voice, sounding strained with forced reason that she was ill suited for spouting, rang through the corridor. "But right now..." her eyes narrowed unseeingly into the distance, as if seeing something he could not, "We hold"

Kingsley grunted his approval. "Always knew your insubordinate head could learn something, subordinate."

The look Tonks shot Kingsley could kill.

Every spoken word was tense, heavily laced with the undertone of the fight that the Death Eaters had brought to them outside. The one they couldn't run into yet. The one that they were just standing there, allowing to carry on, so there'd be enough members of the resistance there to ensure they actually had a shot.

"I believe we have waited long enough," came Dumbledore's calm voice, "and I would suggest...that we utilize the front door." He began to descend the stairwell, a sad smile crossing his weathered features.

And then his pace quickened. "We will not be visible to them until we cross the property line, but once we are out on the front lawn we will be vulnerable to any stray spell that may strike." Stopping a pace before the door, Dumbledore paused, Harry feeling Kaylens fingers slip from his arm as he tightened his grip upon the wood of his wand.

"Let me go first."

The Headmaster looked back at him, Harry's tone resolute, firm as he stepped forward, his gaze already upon the door. "They're under orders to not kill me. Not until I get them that prophecy they want from the Hall of Prophecies, and I'm the only one who can." Gaze remaining hard, he glanced firmly at Dumbledore, resolidifying his statement.

"Let me go first. Appear out of nowhere right in front of them, while all of you apparate to surround them from behind." And despite himself his tone turned vindictive. "Ought to distract them enough when the Boy Who Lived takes a casual stroll out to say hi."

Tensing, waiting, he watched the Headmaster's expression steadily.

And then the worn face of an old man smiled tiredly at him.

"As you wish, Harry." A clipped flick of the wand, and the door to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was sent flying open, the sudden assault of cacophonous sounds and the stench of fires nearly sending the occupants reeling. "Go."