"Mankind must put an end to war, before war puts an end to mankind."
~ John F. Kennedy
Chapter 32 ~ Antidotes
ECOTS
His hands were everywhere.
Kaylens' back slammed against the board, chalk dust pluming out as they both collided with it. Harry was off balance and just didn't care.
Seizing her mouth had been the best damn idea he'd had in awhile.
Their startled breaths on impact hardly stopped either of them. Harry's mouth never once lifted from hers, the wizard instinctively grabbing her, snaring her as if she were a wayward golden Snitch trying to escape. Everything about the hair in his face reflected the same gold perfectly, and it was all he could do to handle what was happening.
Harry's forearm was beneath her shirt, his larger hand grabbing at her lower back, desperately dragging her waist harder against him. The way her body felt, the appreciative sounds expelling from between her lips, the way she was pressing closer…
The chalk scribbled slate of the transfiguration class didn't stand a chance, remnants smearing against the back of Kaylens' shirt as he lifted her, pressing her against the board with a soft thud.
They'd attempted to make it to the Great Hall together.
They'd lasted not even two floors.
Harry drug his calloused grip through her hair, fingers tightening around her tangled tresses. Kaylens' fingers had found the back of his shirt, raking a wicked onslaught down his spine as his mouth again claimed hers, every sodding week that he hadn't been able to do this coming out at once.
Hell, two months prior he'd had no idea he'd even wanted this. He'd been firmly in denial.
Kaylens' mouth broke away for a fleeting moment, the non-witch somehow maintaining contact at every other point as she desperately sought air. Lowering her back to her feet, Harry seized the same opportunity, his brain long since oxygen deprived. Not that he'd had much use for trivial damn things like air recently, not since they'd detoured into this unoccupied classroom in this ghost-town corridor.
The flipped over chair was evidence to how much attention he'd paid to anything other than her mouth, neck, her form as he'd freed her of her cloak. Those damn things were restricting. Her clothes beneath it were enough.
He'd never wanted to tear a witch's clothes off before.
Breathing, just breathing against her skin, her scent alone was maddening. Harry's brow thudded against hers, his gaze dropping closed, just….appreciating this for a long moment.
Unbidden his hand began winding within her hair, tugging a golden strand as he slowly, slowly caught his breath. "Wasn't this," he lowly growled, tugging a lock for emphasis, "shorter?" He swore to things unholy that she'd walked in, covered in soot, her hair shorter and severely singed on one side not twenty minutes ago. Dragging his free hand up along her side, squeezing, he was so, so close that he could feel her indrawn breath against him.
"Hermione," came her breathless, murmured explication. Kaylens' hands were still moving on him, as is unable to settle for not touching. Fingertips tracing a wicked path around his back, finding his side, finding the bottom of his shirt…
An unbidden growl rose in his throat.
"She's getting," Kaylens pressed, lips against his skin, "really good at hair charms."
Despite what she was doing to him by not kissing him, by speaking directly against his flesh, he was listening. A rough laugh escaped at that. "That witch," he agreed, "is full of surprises." He'd seen her at the Triwizard Gala. She'd gone from bushy haired to knockout from those charms of hers. "And to think," he half growled, finding her neck, "didn't think she approved of this.."
Kaylens fingers had found his abdomen, tracing a maddening path along his musculature. "She doesn't," came the murmured agreement. "She made that very clear with her no more pawing comment."
Harry merely tugged Kaylens closer. "Then we're not," he ground dryly, "good little listeners, are we?"
Her amused breath practically danced across his chin. "Clearly."
He couldn't take it.
He'd snogged Cho before. It'd been nothing like this. The way Kaylens' hands were slipping underneath his shirt, her fingers wickedly exploring his bare skin having something to do with that. Godric…
Harry kissed her hard, unable to think. His mouth left hers, finding the slope of her jaw, slowly, slowly lowering along her neck, the taste of her skin... He could practically feel her pulse beating wildly beneath his lips, his grip on her waist tightening to ensure she knew that his was the same.
The sound she made proved she wasn't complaining.
He was pretty damn certain he could stay like this and forget that a war was going on, forget that Dumbledore was still injured, forget that he didn't know what came next.
At some point her fingers had wrapped in his messy hair, giving his head a gentle yet pointed tug back up, the irritated sound he made totally ignored as she simply re-claimed his mouth for a long, long moment.
It took him a long damn minute to reclaim conscious thought processes. "You know," he uttered, reiterating earlier words, "at some point," breathing, "we should-"
"Talk. We should talk," she echoed, finishing the sentiment for him. Not once did she stop their mutual exploration.
He mustered a growl in response. "Might," he hazarded, speaking against her lips, "have to stop then." And Harry really didn't want to stop. Pausing, waiting for her thoughts on that, he found his grip on her and his chest clench as she mumbled something indicating agreement.
Harry wasn't certain how much time he spent there, pressing against the blackboard with her in the abandoned room, but he sure as hell hazarded that they'd missed lunch. He didn't care.
He hadn't realized how damn badly he'd wanted this.
Still, he barely knew her.
Yet they'd fought together. Bled together. Laughed and nearly died together.
Harry knew enough.
He also wanted to know her more.
Breaking the snog abruptly, chest heaving against hers, the sunlight danced a wicked path across her warm skin. Slowly he managed to drag a hand up, dropping it against the slate alongside her head, boxing her in. "At some point," he breathed raggedly, fingers flexing against the rough board, "we might have to try first names."
Kally had taken ahold of him, her fingers wrapping against the front of his shirt - when had his robe been discarded? – a slight laugh escaping. "Perish," came her clearly amused tone, "the thought." Her impossibly golden eyes were flickering over his, Harry not looking away. Hazel. Flecks of brown, even the slightest traces of green were all mingling within her golden irises. Harry's grip abandoned her waist, finding the side of her face as he simply looked at her.
Smoothing an errant strand of hair away from her eyes, thumb lingering on her cheekbone, a smirk crossed his jawline. "Would," he gutturally admitted, "be weird." First names…he'd never called her anything other than Kaylens.
Given what they were doing though, it seemed a tad impersonal.
In the all but abandoned corridor came the faintest of sounds, a voice echoing against the ancient stonework of Hogwarts, drifting to where they sheltered within the classroom. Neither moved, but both their heads turned to eye the still open doorway with displeasure.
It sounded like Ron looking for him. He could vaguely hear something echoing about McGonagall being sadistic and wanting to train again after lunch.
Right. Well they were apparently skipping lunch so...
Abruptly his hand had flicked out in seeming annoyance, the door to the room swinging shut. Wandless act once again lost on him, Harry had already turned back to Kaylens, grabbing the back of her head and thudding his brow against hers. "Be very, very quiet."
No offense to his best mate, but Ron had become a real mood killer as of late.
Waiting, feeling her lips twitching in a smile against his own, Harry took his time. He was kissing her slowly, grip clenching against the back of her head, fingers getting lost within her thick hair. The way her hands were sliding up his chest caused a slight moan to escape, Kaylens' hand instantly covering his mouth to shush him as they both repressed outright laughter. They were not keeping quiet well.
Hiding from Ron ought to have been an actual TriWizard Tournament event. Those judges had no clue how difficult it was to snog a girl without anyone hearing. The angry merpeople had nothing on this.
The sounds in the corridor eventually died down, Harry bringing his hand up to forcibly remove her far smaller one from his mouth. Winding his fingers through hers, he raised both eyebrows at her. "If I didn't know better," he dryly told, "I'd think you liked making me shut up." The feel of her fingers between his…
This was different. It was a good different.
Kaylens' lips merely curved, her eyes dancing in quiet amusement. "I think," she instead intoned, ignoring his excellent accusation, "that we may have broke Weasley before. Would hate to do it again."
Harry outright snorted. "Yeah, well, Hermione wasn't wrong. Ron is delicate."
"He's your friend."
"The best," he confirmed, tentatively tightening his hand around hers, experimenting with this new sensation. Merlin it had things in his gut twisting.
Kaylens was biting down on her lower lip, her free hand raising, falling alongside his head. The way her fingers carefully traced along his jaw…
Harry sucked in a breath. He needed to know her. He needed to get to know her better. The fact that he wanted to perhaps the most surprising part of all. Here he was, snogging a fellow Order member, yet barely knew anything about her other than the knowledge that he'd forcibly taken with legilemency. And yet, at the same time, he knew everything he needed to know about her.
She'd thrown herself in front of a werewolf and tackled Death Eaters for him. He'd done the same. The sodding non-witch couldn't do magic, yet had acted more bravely than most fully qualified wizards. And to think that he'd rather wanted to throttle her at the start of the school year.
Then again, if he were really honest with himself, he'd half wanted to snog her senseless then too.
The silence stretched, as if she too were thinking the same sodding thing.
It was a long time before either of them again spoke. "Harry," her voice finally resonated, so quiet that he barely heard her, the use of his first name practically startling him, "what'd you do to piss off Voldemort so badly?"
Had Kaylens hauled off and slapped him he might have reacted better. Instead he instantly stiffened, but managed to not move.
But only just.
Apparently sensing the sudden change in his musculature Kaylens tried to move from him, but his grip on her renewed, tightening. "Don't," he plead, "just…stay." It would take him a minute, but…
Kaylens seriously didn't know. Everyone else, including complete damn strangers, in the wizarding world knew but she sure as hell didn't. He was the bloody boy-who-lived, and the non-witch he was snogging hadn't a clue.
It meant she was doing this with him, for him. And that…it sent fissures through him.
Feeling her relax beneath his hands, she merely nodded, her brow furrowing. She remained silent as his grip on her loosened ever-so-slightly, her distracting form relaxing, leaning against the chalkboard and simply watching him.
She looked like a damn cat, tranquil and attentive all at once.
Had another damn soul been present they'd not have seen her, concealed as she was from the rest of the room by his body, Harry moving, his hand once more pressing against the chalkboard alongside her head, getting close. It took him a moment to remember how to work his throat.
"There was this….prophecy," he finally told, shadows dancing across the room as a flock of birds flew past the window. "Could have been about Neville or me but, for some reason he went after me." So perhaps that wasn't common knowledge, but…
She was a Phoenix. She was one of them.
It darkly occurred to him why this never would have worked with he and Cho the year prior. He had long since become sick of lies, and carrying on something that meant anything to him meant there was only one.
The one he carried wait him, about it being either his death or Voldemort's, was heavy enough.
Sliding his thumb along her cheekbone, his own brow creasing heavily, he ground in continuance, "For some reason he went after me first. I was a baby. My parents sacrificed themselves to save me."
Kaylens hands had fallen, hanging loosely at her sides, but her eyes flickered. "I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
Harry remained there, with her, not moving. Instead his hand just continued slowly smoothing her tangled hair, hair he had been personally responsible for knotting, strand by strand away from her face. The feel of her skin was intoxicating.
As was her voice, her lips parting, closing, expression thoughtful. "I-I can't help but notice," she finally whispered, "that he's still alive, and that you…you're definitely not dead." Her hands both rose, something conflicted crossing her countenance as she tugged at the front of his shirt. "So…how?"
Harry gulped. "Old magic." Her fingers were twisting in his shirt, the feeling…distracting. "If you sacrifice yourself for someone you love it protects you. My mother's sacrifice…when he used the killing curse on me it bounced off me, back at him."
"I'm rubber, you're glue…" she muttered hollowly.
Despite the current topic, his mouth twitched ever so slightly at the Muggle expression. Most here wouldn't recognize it, except maybe Hermione. "Exactly. Still, it gave me this." Giving her side a squeeze, he lifted that hand to shove back his scraggly hair off his forehead, scar revealed. Kaylens had seen it before, but…
Wouldn't have known it was from a dark curse.
Her reaction though-
"He tried to hex you in the head?" Her mouth was literally open, aghast. "Seriously? A baby? In the head?" Her hand was already at his forehead, one of her fingers carefully tracing the scar tissue, a spasmodic shiver seizing him for a half-second.
Kaylens froze, immediately removing her hand, but he'd already caught her by the wrist. "No," he told, "it's okay." He didn't mind her touching him. He just…needed a minute.
Her brow merely furrowed more deeply, her golden gaze studying him with depths he'd had never believed before recently.
A second later her hand had turned in his loose grip, her fingers wrapping firmly around his.
"So," she said, after a near eternity had passed in steadfast silence, "how's he not dead then?"
Harry could have laughed. The way she asked these things made it sound so simple. Like there were straightforward answers on all of it. "Wish I knew," he admitted. "Dumbledore I think…has an idea. Either way, it didn't kill him, just weakened him, for awhile." He shrugged ever-so-slightly. "By the time he was strong enough to come back, I was older and…a little harder to kill."
Kaylens had begun to gnaw on her lower lip, her eyes narrowing. "Then make sure," she quietly ordered, tone almost threatening, "to keep it that way."
He eyed her as if she'd grown a second head, mouth twitching. "What exactly is it," he asked wryly, "do you think I've been trying to do?"
"Self-inflicted second head injury?"
He laughed, actually laughed. He laughed over a conversation about Voldermort killing his parents. He shook his head at her. "What," he half-demanded, voice quiet and rough, "am I going to do about you?"
Kaylens tilted her head, as if giving the inquiry serious thought. "What we were doing was nice."
He raised an eyebrow, somewhat…surprised. "That's it? No follow up?"
Her delicate shoulders shrugged, his hand still in hers. "No. Sounds like he has an ego and is pissed a kid's mom outwitted him, so is taking it out on the aforementioned kid." That said, her expression grew almost concerned, her voice softening. "Just….don't get killed by him, okay?"
His breathing quickened, Harry already moving closer. "It's definitely not," he muttered, free hand once again touching her, "on the to-do list."
A moment later he was again kissing her, slowly, without the urgent rush of before. Her parted lips allowed him to nibble her lower one, a contented sound her response. Pulling her flush against him, away from the chalkboard, he felt her fingers clinging to him.
Somehow he'd gotten her on top of a desk, Harry pausing to breath. Leaning his brow against hers, his hand tracing a path down the back of her neck, he breathed her in. They both needed a minute. This was fast…rushed. He was aware, yet acutely felt like it wasn't fast enough. Kaylens' form practically trembled in his fierce grip, Harry muttering, "We can stop whenev-whenever you want."
Her shakily indrawn breath gave him pause, making him cease, Harry starting to pull away-
Kaylens grabbed onto his shirt and yanked him back towards her, his knees banging into the desk with a thud. They both ignored it. They were too busy reclaiming one another's mouths.
For the longest time everything around them was silent, the two nearly of age wizards drowning out everything else, for as long as their endurance allowed. The only thing either fully aware of was that they, for impossible reasons, wanted this.
ECOTS
Kalliandra was fairly certain that her heart hadn't calmed since the moment they'd managed to pry themselves off one another long enough to wisely leave that room before they did anything else. Still breathing swiftly, she rushed towards the Great Hall with Potter, rifling a hand through her hair as she attempted to tame it.
Normally long and sleek, Potter had a way of tangling it in seconds.
Wetting her lips, she felt his callused hand clench against hers tightly. It was like a jolt had been sent through his palm to hers, tingling up her entire arm. She didn't know what this was, what was going on, but there was one thing she did know: she liked it, and she didn't want it to stop.
It didn't. The Great Hall had just come into sight, yet she found herself abruptly halted and shoved against the wall, Potter's mouth on hers all over again.
Potter had obviously read her mind.
Tightening her fingers into his shirt, fingertips grazing his chest, Kally let his mouth roam over hers wherever he wanted.
As quickly as he'd begun he'd stopped, her eyes fluttering open to find his green one looking back, a slight smirk on his lips.
A second later he'd shoved the Great Hall door open, it requiring him to shove his shoulder against it with an oomph due to its sheer size. They weren't early. In fact, they were late.
For dinner.
The sunlight had long since grown dim, the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling revealing twilight as he drug her towards the Gryffindor table. The few others that had remained at Hogwarts, despite the Ministry of Magic's warnings, had taken to sitting at either the Ravenclaw table or theirs. The houses…somewhat united, at least…for now.
Her eyes still flickered towards the Slytherin table, wandering if Harry had been right about the flaxen haired Slytherin she'd met, Draco. What if he really was a Death Eater?
As if reading her thoughts, Potter's voice intruded. "So…what was up with you and Malfoy at the beginning of the year?"
Her gaze jumped back to him, finding his malachite one staring back. Only this time, unlike the last time Malfoy had come up months ago, there was no accusation there. Instead…curiosity.
Her lips twitched only slightly. "We had classes together," she told, lips twitching just a little more, "and he didn't interrogate me." Lifting an eyebrow, she added, "What was with you and spying?"
To his credit, Potter looked almost abashed. In fact, he actually stopped, just out of earshot of the others. Stopping, looking around as if surveying the hall, his attention turned back firmly to her. "Enough people betray you, Kaylens, you tend to get cautious." His hand squeezed hers once more, Kally's gaze fluttering closed in enjoyment for a moment.
"You were around someone I care about." Hagrid. "Get near someone I care for, act even the tiniest bit suspicious, out of the ordinary, and I'll investigate it. I can't-" Potter sounded strained. "I can't not. The last time I missed something…"
Kally watched the hard part of his throat rise and fall in a rough swallow, his next words incredibly tense. "I lost someone."
The sounds of distant chatter across the cavernous Great Hall could be heard, yet here he was….blaming himself. Far enough to be out of earshot, and yet….Kally found herself moving before she could help herself.
Free hand falling on his upper arm, she squeezed. "That sucks, Potter." Proffering a tentative smile, she firmly added, "But whoever it was, it's not your fault." She didn't need to know what had happened. She had seen the lengths he'd go to protect others. There was no way, had he been able to prevent something, that he wouldn't have.
The utter amount of faith she had in him, suddenly, worried her. Sucking in a breath at the realization her hand fell away, Potter snagging it before she could get far.
They were at the table in another moment, Ron making strangled sounds as he gestured between the two of them.
A second later a not-so-discrete kick alerted her to Luna, the blue eyed witch singing a little, quiet tune about messy hair.
Kally rifled a hand through her hair. She'd clearly been more obvious than she'd intended. Potter was suddenly trying to flatten his hair as well.
Neville, however, didn't care about any of that, wasting no time in shoving a copy of a wizarding newspaper into their faces. "Look," he said, the headline…
Half a Million Muggles Dead from Mysterious Magical Plague in Dublin, a Quarter of a Million More Dead Worldwide – The Ministry Seeks Answers!
Quickly scanning the article, hard as that feat was with Neville moving it, she caught snippets where it hypothesized that the Muggle lover Albus Dumbledore had been responsible for it, allowing magic to spread to the Muggle realm by allowing Irish Mudbloods to enter into Hogwarts.
A loud crunch had her almost jump, Potter having snagged the copy in a tight fist, his intense glower narrowing. "They're blaming, Dumbledore?"
Hermione seemed to be wincing. "Seems so, Harry."
Neville made an angry sound. "Of course they are. It's all propaganda. When a wizard is down for the count blame them."
"It has Voldemort's name all over it," hissed Ginny, a second before Dean came and dropped into a seat besides her. Ginny's brown eyes jerked to Dean, instantly halting whatever it was she had been about to say next.
"Nah, can't blame the bloke for everything now can we?" Dean said conversationally, clearly having heard her and reaching to snag a biscuit. "Besides, Ministry is pretty good at giving the Headmaster a bit of a hard time all on their own I thought?"
Everyone in their immediate vicinity had gone deathly quiet. Dean actually looked confused.
"You know," he explained, taking a large bite and talking around his own food, "because they took over the school last year. Sent in Umbridge. All," waving the biscuit around for emphasis and flinging crumbs, "that."
Hermione heaved a sigh. "Well," she pointed out diplomatically, "he's not wrong. Umbridge really was awful, and they certainly didn't need to wait for an excuse to meddle." Fiddling with her copy of the paper, ink smudges along her hands, the Gryffindor added, "I just-isn't there anything we can do? What if they send that-that thing back."
The expressions Hermione, Weasley, Potter, Ginny, and Neville were making were those of utter disgust. Luna merely hummed, while Dean and the others at the table happily munched on food.
They might as well have been speaking Greek to her. "What's an Umbridge?"
The onslaught of booming voices that erupted, declaring things akin to evil toad was almost deafening. Kally actually jumped, startled.
Potter, however, hadn't said a word. Instead he was still looking at the crushed paper, practically shaking with anger. She wasn't the only one who noticed.
"Mione," Ron sounded baffled, looking from where Harry was doing his best to mentally urge his copy to burst into flames to where Hermione read a pristine version, "when did you start getting two copies of the Prophet?"
"She didn't, it's mine," Ginny corrected.
Ron glanced at his sister, looking slightly aghast. "You spent money on that? But all they do is bash Harry!"
Ginny shrugged unapologetically. "We have to keep up somehow, and figured if they stopped sending Muggle borns copies that we would still need one here." The red head placed both of her elbows on the table, leaning forward to peer down its length at Hermione. "Sorry Hermione, just preparing."
Hermione's expression had grown slightly strained, but she dismissed it. "It was a smart idea, Ginny."
Potter chose that moment to break his stony silence. "I'm suddenly," he abruptly growled, "not hungry." He went to move, only for Hermione to interject.
"They're also," she stated, sounding like she had just been slapped, "thinking of closing Hogwarts." Kally could hear the girl's gulp from where she sat across the table. "Permanently."
The sound of Weasley shredding something beneath the Gryffindor table could be heard, the wizard clearly not in full control yet of when or when not that his new claws extended. At least he was hiding it this time, but…
If Hogwarts closed…
She honestly wasn't sure what would happen.
"What? Why?" It was a younger year, whose name she hadn't caught, asking.
"Oh, I'm sure they'll blame it on the wrackpurt infestation," said Luna dreamily. "Assuming they can't find some awful way to blame it on the poor Headmaster."
Hermione actually tore her attention away from the Prophet at that, shooting Luna a look of pure skepticism. "Uh huh." With that she was back to reading, a curly strand of hair hanging in front of her nose and unnoticed. "It looks like the plague is getting worse. A few wizards in Ireland and one in the U.S. have gotten sick and-" her voice broke off, paling considerably, "died, so the Ministry doesn't want any students at a school near the epicenter or at a school headed by someone possibly implicated."
She sounded disgusted.
It was all Kally could do to keep up with the conversation.
Next to her something loud thudded against the table, Kally glancing to see that Potter's knife now stood upright in it, his expression grim. "Great," he stated, tone sarcastic as hell, "just…great." His grip remained around the knife, and the younger Gryffindor who had chimed in to their conversation earlier started to scoot down the long table's bench and away from them. Potter didn't notice. Instead he half demanded, "So what do we do now?"
"Nothing mate." Dean sounded actually confused. "I mean, we're just students. You can't stop them from closing the school totally. I mean, that would stink but," once more gesturing around with his newly acquired chicken stick, he added, "look around. We're basically closed anyway. Everyone else is at home."
The look Harry turned on her friend could have burned daggers through him.
Kally gave him a not so subtle kick beneath the table, Potter actually wincing and shooting her an irritated look. She ignored that, nodding at Hermione instead. "Does it say what their plan is if they close Hogwarts?"
Hermione was nodding. "Yeah, they'd…split students up and send them to other schools farther away. It sounds," like she ventured, "that they've already started doing that with those not here anymore anyway."
Kally hissed a breath, only for Luna to pat her on the arm consolingly.
Hermione had finally put the paper down, both her and Ron oddly eyeing her now. Kally merely blinked, only for Ron to lean across the table to quietly hiss, "What about Snape? I know he's an old bat but he any closer to-"
"Ron!" Hermione had clearly been thinking the same thing, but had been smart enough not to say it. Either way, someone looking for a cure wasn't exactly a secret. Lots of wizards had to be doing it.
The question left her with nothing to do other than shrug. "Not yet. He's laid up in the hospital wing all week anyway, and Casper's supposed to be down for at least a couple days so…" she trailed off.
"So you're free," Potter muttered, glancing at her and looking like he was reminding himself that the day wasn't a total loss.
Kally's eyes just narrowed, arching an eyebrow back at him. "Seriously?"
The raven haired idiot just shrugged unapologetically. "Gotta take the little wins, Kaylens." At least he wasn't doing his best to carve a hole in the table anymore.
Then what he'd actually said registered, her mouth opening. "Little?"
"So," interjected Luna, stopping her from possibly kicking the smirking wizard she'd taken to snogging, "what are we doing for Christmas? It's been snowing, so I think we should sled ride."
Everyone stopped, looked at Luna, Dean guffawing. "Finally! Now that's a solid plan Lovegood!"
Flipping her flaxen hair casually over her shoulder, Luna shot Dean a smile for the ages. "All my plans are beautifully unsolid actually, Dean, but thank you for trying to compliment them."
Kally blinked, dazed. "It's Chrismas?"
"In two days," Dean supplied, grinning. "What? Nose stuck in a book too long, Kal?"
She shot him a glare, Ron sputtering, "How do you forget Christmas?"
She wrinkled her nose, making an apologetic expression.
Weasley just shook his head at her, horrified. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, he abruptly turned towards Harry. "By the way Harry, McGonagalls going to kill you. Had to use Neville for er-" spotting Dean, he finished, "Defense Against the Dark Arts training."
Neville rolled his neck. "Hey, it wasn't that bad."
Ron's expression clearly said otherwise. "You screamed," he stated very slowly, "like a girl."
"Only," Neville countered, spearing a zucchini slice with his fork, "a little."
Besides her Potter actually snorted. "You'll get better, Neville."
"See? Harry believes in me," Neville countered smugly, gesturing at Potter and speaking to Ron.
Ron merely groaned.
"So, sledding?" Luna intervened, smiling dazzlingly. "If we're lucky we may get to see a baby heliopath. They can only breed when it's this cold and snowy out, otherwise they'd positively burn one another alive just trying to mate."
Hermione sputtered, Luna smiling at her, snowflake earrings lending her a rather snow-nymph quality. "Well, I suppose you are right, Hermione. They can sort of flirt when it's raining out and don't necessarily need the snow, but its so much more fun to roll around in. It's all about them not being overheated you see."
Luna was still talking, but Kally was no longer listening. In fact, she'd stopped with a goblet halfway to her mouth.
It's all about them not being overheated…
Setting her drink down, her golden gaze fixated on the surface of the warm cider, the liquid rippling ever-so-slightly, like a cauldron, Snape's voice from days prior coming back.
When I say simmer I mean simmer! What I do not mean is to have the flame so low that it barely has a chance to cook! If it is not on high enough then the chemical integrity of the ingredients will not be degraded enough for them to mix, and it will explode.
The antidote that Snape and Regulus had been working on for months had exploded. The two wizards had been experimenting with new ingredients that were prone to exploding when mixed. They'd had the flames as high as possible, first melting down the ingredients separately before combining them, using the hottest fire spells they could to mix them before the chemicals had a chance to mix poorly.
She would know, since they'd had her, as Regulus had put it, doing the 'bitch' work and chopping the ingredients with long, slow slices to ensure that nothing was 'ignited.'
The two potions masters had done everything right.
Except for degrading the integrity of the ingredients fast enough. The idea was to break them up into their core components so they would no longer react and instead seamlessly combine. Kally wasn't sure that any amount of heat could do that to the chemical structures fast enough though, but…
She had an idea of what possibly could.
Abruptly Kally had scrambled out of her seat, already bolting for the hospital wing before the others had realized what had happened.
"Is Kalliandra allergic to heliopaths?" Luna instead asked, sounding quite concerned.
ECOTS
Harry's fingers were still clenched tightly around Ginny's mutilated copy of the Daily Prophet when Kaylens shot out of the Great Hall like a bat out of hell.
"Where does she think she' going?" Ron questioned, hooking a thumb in the direction where she'd disappeared.
Harry hadn't the slightest damn clue. "Apparently," he drawled, anger still boiling in him, "she's allergic to heliopaths."
Dean let out a mock sigh, shooting them all a wink. "Better go after her and make sure she's not breaking out in hives at the mere mention in that case." The dark skinned Gryffindor started to get up, only for Ginny to abruptly grab his sleeve and yank him right back down onto the bench, hard.
"Harry will get her," she stated without question. "Right, Harry?"
If the closest thing he had to a little sister hadn't been sending him a dagger-like look, he might have remained where he was, crushing her newspaper. Dumbledore had been blamed, not so subtly, by the imbeciles at the Daily Prophet.
Not six months ago those same idiots had been admitting that Dumbledore was right. Dementors had abandoned Azakaban. Voldemort had been sighted in the Ministry of Magic. Yet they were already reverting back to their previous stance.
Harry gave it another week before they were calling him unbalanced again.
Something needed done about this. Dumbeldore wasn't even back yet, and no one was talking to them. They may have been admitted to the Order, but the full fledged wizards weren't keeping them apprised of everything.
Right now there wasn't anything he could do about that. Anger in him, he ground his teeth. Right. Well if he couldn't do anything about the Dumbedore situation, he might as well do something about Kaylens.
He was fairly irritated that she had darted off.
Besides, if he didn't go after her, knowing how things had been he might not see the non-witch again for longer than five minute intervals for two damn months.
As Harry got up and left, he could hear Luna correcting Dean. "Heliopaths don't cause hives, Dean. If you're allergic you tend to catch on fire, socks first."
It took him a bit to track her down, having to ask Nearly Headless Nick if he'd seen a golden haired girl anywhere. That was how he found himself at the hospital wing, all of the patients from the Battle of Grimmauld long since gone, including Dumbledore.
Now it only housed two: Snape and Regulus Black, the latter of which Kaylens was haranguing.
Stopping in the doorway to catch his breath – he had just run up several flights of moving stairs – he saw Regulus Black throwing back his bed sheets, Madame Pomfrey having a fit. "Suffering through your excruciating modern-day excuse for satiating your torture fetish is hardly cause to stay in bed, Poppy. Now unhand me woman! There's a plague afoot!"
Kaylens had already darted away from them, disappearing out the door and down the corridor without so much as a 'hey hello, fancy a snog later.' Harry still didn't understand girls.
Regulus Black's progress was far slower, impeded by a limp from a bone that was apparently still growing back. The man that was his apparent guardian, one who would never be even a shadow of Sirius stopped by him, inclining his brow. "What, pray tell, could you possibly want now? Field trip permission slip?"
Harry's gaze just narrowed. "Kaylens. Now where'd she go?"
For a second Black said nothing, just smirked. "Ah yes, your House of Black desecrator, partner in crime," he half sneered.
This time Harry growled, Sirius' shadow rolling its eyes. "The potions lab boy. The little thing just couldn't wait to try to blow herself up again for the holiday." Then Regulus looked rather calculating. "Salazar, am I supposed to present you with a holiday gift just because I apparently won you from Sirius' lack of a will?'
Harry just left for the potions lab, ignoring his new guardian, deeply debating who was worse: him or the Dursleys.
Definitely the Dursleys.
Reaching the dungeons, he found the door to the potions lab hanging, on hinges, traces of soot and rubble in the corridor outside. Had Harry not recently spent so much time amidst worse rubble, while having hexes thrown at him, he might have balked.
Instead he cautiously peered through the doorway to the potions classroom, finding Kaylens in it. What she was amidst though…
The front half looked like it had undergone some type of hippogriff stampede and not survived. Charred black marks marred the old masonry, scattered remnants of what had been work benches littering one side of the room, while several opened vials of liquids lay in puddles on the floor, steaming. A small piece of stone rolled off a pile of debris, right where Snape's office had been.
The rear of the classroom had escaped relatively unscathed, but the stench of the smoke damage and burnt ingredients mixing together violently attacked his nostrils.
Harry almost retched from the stench alone. She hadn't been kidding about Regulus and Snape blowing the lab up.
Kaylens, on the other hand, seemed impervious to it. The witch already had two cauldrons going. Rat tails, purple-spotted fairy mushrooms, camphorated spirit, lion fish, and an off red and viscous fluid that looked suspiciously like dragon's blood were sprawled out all over the place.
There was also a cactus.
Half gagging, he shot her a questioning look over the sleeve he was using to smother the smell, the non-witch not even lifting her head to look at him. "Aloe vera, for soothing properties," she recited almost automatically in response to his unvoiced question.
A kettle on the far right wall gave a sudden pop and sizzle. Kaylens didn't so much as glance at it, winding her long hair up and pinning it into a bun with one hand, using what suspiciously looked like a bone for the pin. She bore an expression of the utmost concentration, and then lifted up a vial of something slimy and bit the cork out of it, liberally emptying the contents into the nearest cauldron as she spat the cork out to the side.
It occurred to Harry that he'd quite literally just snogged that same mouth.
He made another choking sound. So….Kaylens had clearly gone insane. "What exactly," he cautiously questioned, sounding as if he were talking to a disgruntled veela, "are you doing?" He should have sent Hermione or Ginny after her. Better yet, Luna. This would probably all seem completely normal to her.
Kaylens was on the ground rooting through the remnants of a crushed cabinet, huffing angrily. Before he could even ask what she was looking for she abruptly stuck her head into a very unstable looking hole in the wall, right next to the crushed cabinet, like a gopher. "I'm doing," came her muffled voice, "potions-ah ha!"
She emerged clutching a beaker full of white powder, holding it aloft like a prize.
"Um…Kaylens?"
She had already skidded back towards one of the few standing workbenches holding her cauldron, dumping it in and getting down at eye level, scrutinizing the flames. "Too high…" she was muttering, clearly to herself.
"Kaylens."
She had started taking a clear fluid, using her bare fingers to flick it at the flame in a presumable attempt to get the fire level to lower.
"Kaylens I can use a spell for that."
She stopped flicking water at the fire level, then grabbed a knife and started slicing something.
"You know, I snogged Ron earlier. He might actually be better than you."
Still nothing. She was extremely intent on slicing things, blindly tossing each item into the cauldron on her left as she went. "Mmhmm Potter, sounds good."
"Indeed, who knew my ward was so…cavalier with his affectations."
Immediately Harry winced, recognizing that voice. Regulus Black had finally caught up.
"How kind of you to wait," the former Death Eater continued, sarcasm dripping off every word as he limped past him with a haughty flick of his cloak. "Now, girl child, what exactly are you doing?"
At this Kaylens did look up, pausing what she was doing long enough for Harry to make a disgruntled gesture at her, mouthing seriously?
To her credit she at least looked sheepish, but only for a half second.
The second half of that second had found her focusing entirely on his current guardian, Harry ready to groan. "I'll just come and sit down then shall I?" He did just that, making sure to give the various cauldrons and kettle a wide berth.
Kaylens had shoved an extremely charred piece of paper at Regulus' chest. "I found your ingredient list so started re-making it. I think I figured it out."
Regulus merely took the sooty, slightly damp paper gingerly between two fingers and gave it a few solid flicks, looking disgusted.
"It was the flame," Kaylens continued, almost excitedly. "It needs energy, but the flame warmed it too slow. It gave the molecules too much time to be in contact with one another so they imploded, just like Snape said! We just need to melt all of it down first," making a gesture at the various cauldrons, "combine the fairy mushroom and camphorated spirit last, and give it energy another way."
To his credit, Regulus hadn't moved. Harry just groaned and leaned cautiously against the farthest wall from the epicenter.
Kaylens was not a particularly animated person. Caustic? Yes. Cryptic? Absolutely. Calm in a crisis? He'd seen it. Hostile, definitely. He'd been the object of that. But animated?
Apparently so.
Regulus still appeared to be thinking something over. "The flame," he finally stated, with firm finality, "was at the highest it could safely get. I hardly think it was a lack of heat-"
"Not heat," she interrupted. "Energy. We need to apply energy right when you combine the ingredients at a molecular level, so they degrade and combine faster than the heat could accomplish."
The older man just heaved a weary sigh. "And how, pray tell, do you-"
Kaylens outright beamed. "Me."
Harry didn't like where this was going. In fact, he actually looked at Regulus to see if that man could make sense of it.
"Hmm…interesting." The last remnant of the Black family limped towards where the two cauldrons bubbled, fire beneath brewing, and studied them for a long moment. Apparently he had caught on to something that Harry had not.
"Far be it for me to encourage a student…yet if it does go terribly wrong it would spare me my home corridors being desecrated again…"
The look Regulus Black shot his way could have killed lesser wizards. Harry just crossed his arms and glared back, defiant. "It's Sirius' house," he bit. He would do whatever the hell he wanted in his Godfather's home.
"Was," Regulus corrected, sounding bored, "right up until he went and got himself killed. Really child, you ought to try that seven stages of grieving thing. Does wonders for eliminating misguided hero worship of the dead."
His fists clenched. "Sirius is a hero!"
"Was, ward."
Harry began to see red, the overturned table nearest him beginning to vibrate violently-
"Hey!"
The table abruptly stopped.
Harry tore his hateful gaze away from that of Regulus Black and drug it to where Kaylens now stood, wiping her dust covered hands off on her jeans and glaring at them both. "If you two want to throw down by all means, just take it into the corridor. You don't want to know what will happen if you knock any of these over."
"He," Regulus stated, "started it. I was merely trying to assist him with his clear grief."
Kaylens simply made an angered sound, snaring what looked suspiciously like a bicorn horn and tossing it at Harry. "Make yourself useful. Hermione said you were good at this when you pay attention."
Harry caught it with one hand, eyeing her oddly. "Yeah, I do, after over five years of this. How do you know what to do with this?"
"Started," she said distractedly, blowing an errant strand of her hair out of her face as she lent over the kettle now, inspecting whatever foul smelling thing was emitting steam from it, "remedial potions over the summer before any of you ever got here. Better to keep up appearances if they could teach me a bit more." Hissing under her breath, she digressed, "Regulus, I don't know what to do with this. What'd you do with the essence of ptolomy after Snape called you an incompetent skeletor?"
Harry choked and nearly dropped the bicorn horn.
"Move child."
The man all but shoved Kaylens out of the way, leaning over the cauldron and talking soothingly to himself about how he could drown them both later.
For the first time since he'd gotten down there Kaylens actually turned and looked him in the eye, her lips curving into the tiniest of smirks. "Besides Potter," she continued, not missing a beat as she fiddled with the bone pinning her hair up, "some of us actually do pay attention in potions. I've been isolated for two months. What did you think I was doing?"
He shot her an irritated look. "I pay attention."
Kaylens just smirked unapologetically. "Not according to Hermione and Snape."
"Snape's own fault. He's too pathetic to get over his hang ups," he countered, taking a step closer and looking down at her, his own smirk there.
Kaylens opened her mouth to reply-
"Ward! Will you desist with your teenage hormones and cease the interruptions? One wrong move with this thing that your female irresponsibly started without supervision and the entire dungeons could be leveled."
Her entire face went pale, Harry snickering. "Now who wasn't paying attention?"
He had all of a seconds warning as she turned her head and narrowed her eyes.
A second later he'd been solidly kicked in the shin.
ECOTS
She might have actually felt guilty about the yelp Potter let out, but he really was being distracting. She'd also apparently messed something up with the potion judging from the rabid sounds Regulus was now making.
Not surprising. She had just meant to get it started. She'd heard enough of both Snape's and Regulus ' mutterings the past fortnight to know that picking the proper ingredients and proportions had been the hard part of figuring out a potential antidote for the plague sweeping Dublin, and the two potions masters had already done that part. The potion making itself, the actual mixing, has oddly not been particularly complex.
Minus figuring out how to get those last two explosive ingredients to combine correctly. Snape had been arrogantly sure there was a way to make them.
Then the potions classroom had exploded.
Snaring Potter's sleeve and tugging him towards the back of the room, out of the potential blast zone, she released him and promptly slid down onto the floor to just wait. She mutely watched as Regulus worked. A heavy breath and thump besides her indicated Potter joining her, the wizard wrinkling his nose.
"You do realize it reeks in here?"
She huffed a breath, stray strands of hair flying. "Snape had a dead manticore leg and innards in the back when it exploded. It's probably everywhere." Glancing at him, lips curving ever-so-slightly, she added, "You're probably even sitting in some."
The look Potter gave her was enough to elicit a laugh.
He made a half-growl in response.
Leaning her head back against the dungeon wall, the only sounds were that of Regulus' cursing and the creaking of an old iron wall hanging that had been damaged in the blast. It looked ready to break off and fall at any moment.
"So…" Potter's voice broke the silence. "What exactly is it with you and running off?"
Stretching her long legs out in front of her, kicking a cracked beaker aside as she got comfortable, she shook her head. "When have I ever done that?"
Potter actually held up fingers and started counting. "Diagon Alley when we met, Knockturn Alley when you decided I was a git, when Remus went werewolf, outside the hospital wing after Moony tried to eat us, lakeside when I tried apologizing, outside the Three Broomsticks, Grimmauld, and just now."
Then the wizard actually waggled eight fingers at her.
Now it was her turn to growl. "Anyone ever tell you that you're an ass?"
"Frequently," he countered, giving her a foot a kick with his. "Snape in particular, just less nicely."
"Seems about right." Taking in a long breath and just taking the opportunity to stretch languidly out, like a cat, she suddenly frowned. "What exactly is it with you and Snape?" Considering him, she added, "I mean he is an ass, but he seems to particularly have it in for you."
Besides her Harry shrugged. "He was in love with my mother, and apparently I look like my father." His jade eyes cut towards her as he expounded, "The two of them did not get on."
A loud clatter erupted as Regulus discarded a metal tin, tossing it over his shoulder as if it didn't matter where it landed. It rolled near Potter's leg, stopping a half meter off.
Potter eyed it distrustfully.
"If the nearby indolents would be so inclined," Regulus' drawl reached them, "there is the small matter of a plague that I am single handedly attempting to purge the world of, and given there are two cauldrons, one kettle and one of me…"
A wine glass was suddenly conjured into the older man's hand, a potion being brewed with the other.
"Or perhaps I should just get sloshed, let the world go to hell in a handbasket, or so I believe that is what all the young people are saying, then sit back and watch as Severus skewers you both into new office décor for allowing his abode to be blown up a second time in the span of a single day?"
Potter shot her a look. "You just had to decide to help didn't you?"
"I had an idea. Was I supposed to keep it to myself?"
Both Regulus and Potter responded simultaneously,"Yes!"
Several hours later found all the ingredients combined, except for two. A single cauldron now bubbled, a high flame on beneath it, an aberrant swirling of purple, gray, brown and green mixing within it.
"It doesn't look…mixed." Harry was spot on. It really didn't.
Regulus made a sound indicating his lack of concern, tossing some of the purple-spotted fairy mushrooms he'd collected in hand up and down as if they were a ball. "I believe," he stated, sounding almost bored, "it is time for you to do your trick and for me to clean up the probable mess afterward."
Kally suddenly felt like something was trying to strangle her. "Yeah…" This had seemed like such a good idea earlier. She still hadn't filled Potter in on the full details, only Regulus in the hospital wing, but Harry was now shrewdly studying her.
"Please tell me you're not-"
Staring at the potion, nerves flitting through her entire being, she wet her lips. "I'm open," she admitted, "to other suggestions?" Wiggling her fingers, controlling her breathing as much as possible, she found this impossibly hard each and every single time she did it.
She'd only drawn a precious few times.
Each time had weakened her.
Thrice she'd nearly died from it.
The last time had not gone terribly though. She'd survived. She'd remained conscious. She'd helped Potter to hunt down a rat months prior, when she'd felt its life force hiding amongst the rubble, reaching towards it with whatever little magic was within her.
Wizards…they could use energy to create new things, to manipulate their environment, to twist it to their own desires.
She couldn't do any of that. She could sense out life though, in order to silence it. She could kill things.
She couldn't imagine that the molecular integrity of a potion's organic ingredients could be much different, and if what Snape had said was true…
He'd said the key to mixing ingredients prone to not mixing was to ensure that the original components were so broken down that they could combine instantly. Typically this was done by heating the ingredients in a cauldron.
It just hadn't been fast enough.
She certainly hoped she could be faster, as she didn't fancy being blown up like Snape had been. The potions professor was still laid up and recovering in the hospital wing.
"This was when it blew up last time, right?"
Eyes fluttering closed at Potter's voice, she nodded, beginning to feel. "Ye-yeah," she murmured, her skin beginning to tingle.
"Then maybe-"
"Severus," interjected Regulus, "was rather certain that this particular combination would yield a starting point for the antidote, if not an antidote itself."
She could practically feel Potter bristling besides her. "But you're not sure?"
"Of course not, ward. This is science, not certainty. Everything within the development a new potion is mere guesswork. Educated guesswork at best."
Form going very, very still, Kalliandra thought that Potter was going to protest.
Instead he didn't.
ECOTS
Harry didn't like this plan one bit. He also hadn't liked the plan back on Grimmauld either, when Kaylens had used this thing she could do, the thing that was going to eventually kill her, to hunt down Pettigrew's rattish whereabouts amidst the rubble. Then he'd been so overcome with the desire to find and hurt his parents, Sirius', betrayer though…
He'd be lying if he said Kaylens' safety had been his first concern then. He'd had other, more pressing things on his mind.
She also hadn't died. She'd been exhausted, but he'd still sure as hell snogged her immediately after that, and unless he'd suffered a head injury he didn't recollect she had been fully conscious for that.
Fists opening and closing, he grimaced. "So what now?"
Kaylens had gone unnaturally still, but her gaze fluttered open for a brief moment, resting on him, a grateful smile touching her lips.
Her irises were starting to sparkle, golden pinpricks of light beginning to dance within them. He'd seen that only once before on her. Grimmauld street.
"Dump the camphorated spirit in, I'll toss the mushrooms in, and then," Regulus told, "it would be somewhat advisable to run just in case. I do not intend to land myself within Poppy's clutches twice in one day."
Harry ground down a hard swallow, his jaw setting firmly. "Okay." Seizing the vial, the white, viscous fluid within it overturned into the cauldron. He could now see sparks on Kaylens' fingertips, her gaze squeezing tight.
He had half a mind to reach out, to touch her, but he also knew better. Right now sure as hell wasn't the time.
It still didn't mean that he liked it.
"Now!" Regulus commanded, tossing the mushrooms into the air, the things landing in the pot right as Kaylens hands both shot out over it, magic dripping off her hands like molten gold.
A rough hand had seized the back of his robe and bodily hauled him away. "I will not have my brother's ghost haunting me because I allowed you to be hospitalized," his godfather's shadow sneered, as if irritated at the inconvenience.
Harry was shoved out into the corridor, whipping around immediately to look through the potions classroom door, his wand already out in case a shielding charm was needed, but the cauldron….
"Well, it hasn't exploded yet," came the half surprised drawl besides him. "Perhaps the girl isn't a total waste after all."
Harry made an angered sound in Regulus' direction.
"It exploded," came the man's bored sounding tenor, "almost immediately last time, you dollard. That means this might be working."
The significance of that took a second to sink in.
In the room he could see Kaylens still standing there, golden light dripping from her outstretched hands and into the pot, the flames crackling beneath it, shooting up high enough to graze her forearms. The whimper she let out had Harry attempt to bolt back in-
Regulus snared him by the robes yet again. "I cannot emphasize how important it is for your existence, for you to not interrupt her."
Harry roughly shrugged the man's vice grip off him, heaving an angered breath and waiting. He didn't like this. In fact, he felt sick.
He could see Kaylens' form trembling, another whimper escaping her lips as the flames shot up once more, again licking against the bare skin of her forearm. The magic on her hands seemed to spark, and then-
She started to collapse, crumbling in an artful heap.
Before Kaylens could hit the ground Harry's hand had snapped viciously out, the one without the wand, a hard core of anger at this entire situation vibrating within him. At Voldemort. At all the people that had left him and been hurt, even if it hadn't been their fault. At Regulus for allowing her to do something so stupid, even if he knew he couldn't prevent it. At her for being stubborn enough to try to help at her own expense.
Kaylen's body stopped centimeters from hitting the stone, his arm tense as he lowered her the rest of the way gently, already bolting back into the room before Regulus had a chance to stop him.
When he got to her she was gingerly pushing herself up with both hands, shaking. Harry dropped to his knees, reaching out a hand and stopping, not sure if he should touch her, his gaze anxiously assessing her. He wasn't sure how these things worked.
Her nose was bleeding.
Above them both Regulus loomed over the cauldron, the man dipping a ladle into it, raising it, and letting it pour out slowly.
The concoction was now uniform in colour.
"So…you are not a total waste after all," the man drawled. "Congratulations. Severus might not turn you into a desk ornament for exploiting his unoccupied quarters."
Harry was fairly certain that he wasn't sure who he wanted to hex more: Snape or Regulus. He'd think on that topic more later. Right now, Kaylens was looking weakly up at him, the slightest of smiles touching her lips, as if she were pleased with herself.
"Not," Harry muttered at her, summoning a towel and handing it to her, "funny." She'd know exactly what the hell he was talking about. Her drawing like that wasn't amusing to him. Not in the least.
Any response she might have formed was cut off though. Regulus had looked sharply down, questioning, "Think you can do that again? I have…other combinations in mind."
Harry actually let loose another growl. "Do you not see what that just did to her?"
Apparently not. Either that or Regulus simply didn't give a damn. The hell of it was, Kaylens had actually nodded yes.
He had been right. She was a reckless mess.
"Now, Harry," the name sounded strained on Regulus' tongue, as if using his given name was painful, "when exactly did you become proficient with wandless magic?"
It took Harry a full three seconds to process what the hell Regulus was mistaken about. Seizing Kaylens' arms, helping her up, he shot Casper a bewildered look. "I'm not." Beneath his grip every inch of Kaylens was trembling.
Sirius' shadow began to methodically bottle the first version of the antidote, the man eyeing him as if he were an imbecile. "Of course not," he placated facetiously, "yet Kalliandra here magically failed to bash her head upon the floor and you summoned that," indicating the towel, "without one. I must be mistaken on the simple definition of wandless."
"I had my wand," Harry grumbled, tightening an arm around her. It was a mark of how weak she was that Kaylens didn't even protest to being propped up, just holding the small towel to her nose.
"Yet you did not," Regulus persisted, sounding as if he were talking to a child, "use it. Now call me dumb, ward, but I did not agree to become your substitute godfather," sounding pained at the mere word, "only to allow you to get yourself killed by the Dark Lord. So I would suggest you begin to explore that skill that you are clearly unaware of."
Harry had drug Kaylens over to a workbench, sitting her down, an arm tightly around her. She looked like she could fall asleep at any moment.
It didn't shock him when she outright leaned over on him, his shoulder becoming an improvised pillow.
Harry shot Regulus another disconcerted glare. "What," he said slowly, making sure the man could understand him, "are you talking about?"
Regulus looked disgusted. "You really are an incomprehensibly thick one aren't you?" Scoffing, he observed, "No wonder you and my brother got on. Potter, few wizards possess that skill. Even the simplest of spells, when done wandlessly, are considered more highly difficult than ones such as a Patronus charm. I'd recommend you practice."
Capping another vial of new potion, he added meaningfully, "You never know, ward, when it might prove to be of life-preserving use."
Harry hadn't realized he'd done anything wandless, particularly since he'd had his wand in hand the entire time, but-
He couldn't help but wonder if the man, the spitting image of his dead godfather, was right.
Sheathing his wand he abruptly flexed his free hand, the one not wrapped around Kalliandra, and wondered. Staring at a random piece of rock on the ground, he concentrated.
He concentrated hard.
He didn't have to.
The stone vibrated, but only for a second.
In the next it flew right into his grip, as if the ability to silently will things to obey him had always been a sodding part of him.
Harry's free arm had raised to snare the rock like a fleeing Snitch, and he stared. He felt something within his chest and gut clench, something like fear there.
He hadn't known…
Casper, on the other hand, let out a self-satisfied snort, muttering to himself about imbecilic youths, leaving Harry to stare at his own damn hand as if he didn't even know it.
The truth was, he didn't.
ECOTS
The night had grown long, as had the next day, hour-by-hour stretching on.
Regulus Black had worked like a man possessed. He'd been methodical. Each potion was nearly identical, the man altering only one ingredient in them each time, meticulously labeling them. Harry had taken on Kaylens' original role, doing the bitch work as Regulus put it: chopping, dicing, liquefying and prepping things.
Despite Snape's best damn attempts Harry had gotten competent at potions. If he wanted to be an Auror he had to.
Once each potion was fully brewed, Kaylens had repeated the same trick, looking worse and worse with each drawing.
Harry had honestly lost count of how many times it'd been done. He'd actually demanded to know why they were bothering brewing things that were almost exactly the same. Regulus had met the protest with disdain, while Kaylens had slept on a workbench.
They didn't exactly have a plague-infected person at Hogwarts to test each potential antidote on, so Regulus had snidely pointed out that when they sent someone into Dublin, into ground zero, that they wanted them to be armed with every potential combination possible. It could make or break their success. So while Snape was down for the count, skull fracture still healing, Regulus worked in his stead doing just that.
He'd also helpfully pointed out that this probably wouldn't work anyway. The confidence was staggering.
They'd all been exhausted.
His friends had come down eventually, looking for them. Hermione and Luna had stayed and helped.
Regulus hadn't let Ron or Ginny anywhere near the supplies as he'd met their father. Those two had kept Dean preoccupied instead, so he wouldn't see what they were doing beyond 'working on something with a visiting Potions' expert.' Regulus had remained disguised, his real face hidden in case anyone else ventured down to the dungeons.
Harry was grateful. He didn't need to see his godfather's exact resemblance every time he so much as blinked or heard the word ward.
Now the many, many vials had been capped, many variants created, and Hermione and Luna had drug themselves tiredly back to the dorms to sleep. Harry had fared somewhat better.
He had gotten used to a lack of sleep, thanks to Voldemort's persistent attacks on his mind whenever he did. Regulus, on the other hand, had conjured a hammock right in the middle of Snape's still destroyed lab and passed out there and then, as if sleeping in that manticore entrail stench was pleasant, presumably to guard their work.
Kaylens, however, was not doing as well.
The hospital wing was dark, quiet, the only sounds that of Snape's heavy snoring drifting down from the opposite end and the steady dripping from Kaylens' IV.
At some point she'd lain down on the workbench to nap and not woken up, shortly after they'd stopped manufacturing potential antidotes. Dangerously pale, breathing shallow, he knew enough to know that wasn't good.
Poppy had summoned Remus immediately.
And Remus had brought Angelina…in shackles.
Apparently the Order had decided to not turn her in just yet, his former Gryffindor teammate having quietly helped Kaylens without even being asked.
Harry had gotten into it with Remus. Why were they still trusting her? Why was Angelina being allowed anywhere near her? What if she tried something? Remus appeared to have aged another decade, but Angelina had been the one to respond. She'd sounded resigned. She'd apologized for her actions, but Harry hadn't had any of it.
Once Moony had gotten done questioning him about how exactly Kaylens had landed herself in the hospital wing again, The Marauder had flat out groaned. Then he'd reminded Harry that the only reason she probably wasn't dead was because of the unicorn blood that Angelina had forcibly put into her. Over time, they hoped, it ought to protect her. There was a chance she could get used to it. There was a chance that her body could adapt and potentially survive despite the typically fatal magical mutation.
The Order also wasn't going to turn Angelina in. She might be a Death Eater, another good person forced into a bad situation, one the Order didn't trust, but they weren't going to turn her in because they didn't trust the Ministry either.
Besides, Angelina could prove useful to the Order of the Phoenix. What she'd done to Kaylens' had been done to actually save the non-witch's life.
He'd heard it before.
Hearing it again though...he didn't know if he still wanted to punch Angelina or thank her.
Harry wanted to scream.
Remus had forcibly drug Harry away from Kaylens' bedside, asking him to walk with him. He'd told him, almost in resignation, that there were things about wars that weren't often talked about. There were little sacrifices that those who fought made each and every single day.
By drawing to help the potions effort, Kaylens had apparently decided to make one, knowing the risk. The thought had his fists clenching, even if he understood.
"It can be…difficult, Harry, when one's friends place themselves in constant danger for the good of a cause. It can be even harder when the one doing it you…care for." Remus had spoken as if he knew, from experience. Harry's brow had creased as he realized Remus had to be referring to Tonks. The two hadn't exactly been subtle. "Now imagine how they feel when we do the same, for the same cause."
His father's last remaining friend, the last living Marauder, had continued. "When we choose to fight, Harry, there's so much more that defense training just…cannot prepare you for. Like the need to not waste a moment. Like the need to appreciate the calm, in-between times. Like how to handle fear."
The Marauder had been quiet for some time, before whispering two words that haunted Harry only too well in the quiet hallway.
"Like loss."
There has been far too much loss in his life to deal with. His teeth had practically ground, abruptly changing the subject to Tonks, Remus' reaction nearly causing him to laugh.
Now, hours later, Harry found himself next to Kaylens' bed again. He'd refused to go back to the dormitories with the others. The entire situation, the strange twisting in his chest….
He had no damn idea how to handle it. And the way Remus had looked at him as he'd left, telling him he'd be back in the morning…
If Harry hadn't known better he'd have thought that Remus had seen a ghost. He'd have to ask him about that later. For now, he was going to sit right here, next to Kaylens' bed in the almost empty wing. Every window was firmly sealed to block out the cold, yet all curtains had been drawn open to reveal the pitch black night sky, allowing the cool moonlight to subtly light the wing. Snow continued falling peacefully outside; it would be Christmas in a few hours.
Unlike the rest of the castle, the hospital wing was almost warm.
Folding his arms, he dropped his head on them, using them as a makeshift pillow on top of the hospital bed's mattress. Harry had slid his hand near hers, his fingers tracing tiredly along her cool skin.
Eventually he had fallen asleep like that.
It was a long time before a quiet, weak voice woke him. "You're making a habit of this."
Harry's head jerked up, just in time for the magical IV Angelina had hooked up to decide that it was done, it jerking out of her arm and curling up on itself. Kaylens actually jumped slightly, wincing and tiredly rubbing her arm where it had been. "I'm never," she muttered, "going to get used to that."
He half choked on a relieved laugh. "Magic or the IVs?"
"Both," she grumbled drowsily, dragging a hand over her face and stifling a yawn.
Harry grinned. He couldn't help it.
Kaylens only response was to glare halfheartedly, rolling over in bed in a pathetic attempt to get comfortable. She now lay on her side, facing him.
He just grinned more, earning himself a slight, sleepy swat. He dodged, smirking. "What? A wizard's not allowed to grin?"
"You? No," came her suspicious countering. "You could be plotting something."
Growling, he ground, "I'll give you plotting." Moonlight was spilling across her skin, the moon not quite yet full. He'd begun to notice the cycles more, ever since Ron….
Swallowing, Harry reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Remus was right. He wasn't going to think about the bad things every damn second. He couldn't.
Watching Kaylens' eyes flutter shut at his touch, he felt…good.
It was awhile before either of them again spoke, Harry having long since found her hand by that point, firmly wrapping his fingers around hers. Doing that with Cho last year…he couldn't even imagine having the gall to try.
Kaylens though was different. There was something about going through multiple near death experiences with someone that made snogging them easy.
Ultimately, she broke the silence first. "So," her voice was so, so soft, reminding him subtly just how wrong things could go for her, "how far did we get?"
Harry's mouth turned in a tired, sheepish smile. "Honestly? Lost count somewhere in the double digits. 12 maybe?"
Kaylens let out a half amused breath, inclining a single golden eyebrow. The question was obvious and he could practically hear her sarcastic thoughts.
"I can count," he protested mildly, running his thumb across the back of her hand. "I was a little preoccupied with wrestling that bicorn horn you threw at me." Squeezing her hand and releasing it for what he swore was just a second, he held both his hands up and wiggled his fingers at her, showing her the blue bloodstains. "Seriously Kaylens, this stuff is impossible to get off."
The corners of her mouth twitched. "Mmm," she agreed, "why do you think I gave the bicorn horn to you?"
His own mouth fell open. "Hey!"
Her lithe form merely shook with a silent laugh, her eyes tiredly sparkling as she watched him. "Besides Potter, explains why you're insane."
Reclaiming her hand, now it was his turn to shoot her a look of inquiry.
"The blood," came her murmured explanation, "if it seeps through your skin it has psychotropic properties."
Harry actually paled. "Wait-what?" Eyeing his free hand suspiciously, he shot her a look. "Are you serious?"
She just laughed, a mischievous quality to it. "Dunno Potter, am I?"
Once more he growled at her, the sound eerie in the stark hospital wing's silence.
And once more they both lapsed into a long silence, Harry quietly watching her, Kaylens watching him right back. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what to say. He instead settled on the elated twist in his gut stemming from the feel of her hand in his.
"You know," the non-witch contemplated quietly, "I think I'm getting better at this whole magic thing."
Kalliandra was right. She hadn't passed out instantly down in the lab. She'd gotten sick, clearly, but she'd lasted. She wasn't dead.
The thought had a lump growing in his throat, Harry's grip instinctively tightening on hers. "Remus," he half croaked, "said you might get better." Thinking of his earlier, brief conversation with his father's last remaining friend, he roughly ground, "That your body might get used to it because of the unicorn blood."
The expression she wore was almost strained. "Yeah," she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment. "I still hear them but…it's not as bad." Her eyes fluttered back open again. "Thank you for…whatever it was you did." The wall in her mind. He remembered.
He instantly shook his head. "You don't have to thank me for that. Case you didn't notice Kaylens, kinda vested in keeping your irritating arse around." Harry's chest really was twisting now, with things he didn't allow himself to think on often.
It was hard to talk.
"I know better," he forced, "than to tell you to not keep doing this Kaylens, but…" gulping, he forced, "try not to get yourself killed?"
Behind her long lashes, whatever glint had resided within her gaze had fled. "You know I can't promise that, Potter. But," she hastened to add, echoing his earlier words, "it's not on my to-do list."
In the dark of the hospital wing, he just made an irritated sound. It was all he could do.
"You know, Remus stopped by."
Kaylens smiled wanly. "How is he? I haven't been able to talk to him much with the mirror, with everything that's been going on."
Harry knew exactly what mirror she was talking about. He'd had one with Sirius, before… "You know," he muttered, tearing his thoughts away from his godfather, "that thing made me think you were vain as hell at the start of the year. You were always checking it."
She quietly laughed. "He was the only one I could talk to Potter. I felt like I had to be an ass to everyone else."
"Oh you were," he assured, smirking. "Had me convinced that you were a Death Eater for awhile."
At that she just glared. "Your sick sense needs work."
"Clearly."
Adjusting where he sat alongside her bed, Snape let out a loud snort in his sleep. Kaylens frowned, glancing around him, Harry merely rolling his eyes. "Snape," he explained, seeing her lips part in understanding.
"Right…his head." She actually winced. "You should have seen it. He and Regulus were complete idiots, fighting over a cauldron and making it explode. They were behaving like children."
"Well, much as I enjoy Snape getting his head smacked," he dryly responded, "it is good to know that the allegedly put together professors don't actually have it together at all."
She murmured a sound of agreement, Harry returning to their previous conversation. "Remus is fine, by the way. Though I have a sneaking suspicion that Tonks is driving him crazy."
Kaylens quietly laughed again. "Of course she is." A lock of hair slipped down in front of her nose, the non-witch making an irritated sound, as if too tired to bother with it.
Harry drug his hand up, tucking it behind her ear, allowing his fingers to linger upon her earlobe for a long while. How the hell was he supposed to be good at any of this? He didn't have the first clue, but…he liked it.
He liked her.
"You know," he told, a memory occurring to him. "Ron and I, when we first met Hermione, we really couldn't stand her."
Kaylens' socked feet poked out from beneath the bed sheets. "Hrm…and now you can't pry their eyes off each other."
Harry laughed quietly. "Yeah, well. Maybe Ron will get the hint to do something about that eventually. When we met her though, she was just this bushy haired, know-it-all that kept out-doing us with all her spells. Couldn't stand her."
Outside the snow continued to fall. "So what changed?"
"Nearly got her killed, because we were being gits," he told truthfully. "A troll may have been involved."
Kaylens blinked. "A troll?"
"A troll," he confirmed.
The corner of her lips twitched. "Hmm…sounds familiar."
"Why do you think I was telling you about it?" They had hated each other when they'd met.
"I make it a point," Kaylens responded, her fingers wiggling within his, "to never make guesses about why you do anything, Potter."
He wiggled his fingers back. "At some point," he slowly countered, smirking, "you may have to try my actual name. It's Harry, in case you forgot."
Kaylens let out an amused breath. "Kalliandra."
"That's pretty long," he dryly griped. "Got any nicknames?"
She arched an eyebrow. "I suppose," she said, as if already regretting it, "you could call me Kally."
"Hrm, but you let Dean call you Kal. Why's he so special?"
"Because he gave me no choice in the matter?"
Harry laughed, Kaylens smiling now. He liked when she was awake.
The awake non-witch was now eyeing where he sat. "That," she stated, "can't possibly be comfortable."
Glancing at his chair, the thing twisted around backwards and Harry straddling it next to the bed, he disagreed. "You'd be surprised," he told, feeling her thumb running across the back of his hand now, "I have a lot of experience visiting friends in hospital wings."
Merely inclining another eyebrow, she squeezed his hand and let go of it. She then lifted the hospital bed sheets up invitingly.
Now it was his turn to incline an eyebrow.
The witch he had taken to snogging quietly laughed, the sound awesome. "What?" she demanded, obviously amused. "It's not like I haven't slept by you before."
Harry made a sound of agreement. "Becoming a bit of a habit actually."
She shrugged with one shoulder. "Don't be so comfortable then."
He did not need further coaxing.
Being careful he'd clambered into the bed with her, gently dragging her onto him. The thing was tiny, and he'd be shocked if one or both of them didn't manage to fall off by morning.
Harry found he didn't care. Kaylens' fingers lay splayed out across his chest, her face burying against his shoulder, his arm doing his best to trap her against him. Dipping his face against the top of her head, he muttered, "We are going to lose so many points for this in the morning."
He could no longer see her face, but her sleepy murmur did things to him. "Let them."
She had a point. There were so few students left that there wasn't really a House Cup race going on anyways.
That's when he noticed the wizarding clock on the hospital wing wall, the curtains around each bed fluttering eerily. It was well after midnight, the night dark, snow falling.
"Merry Christmas Kaylens."
At that the girl in his arms shifted, peering sleepily up at him. "Was I supposed to get you something?" Regulus had asked the same thing.
"You know, I keep getting asked that, lately."
With that, he lowered his mouth to hers, enjoying himself before he fell asleep. That was present enough.
