"We are a plague on the Earth."

~ David Attenborough


Chapter 33 ~ The Plague


ECOTS


The silence of Number 12 Grimmauld Street – what was left of it – was shattered.

Snape about slammed the door shut. "The imbecilic children are beginning to become competent!" Practically spitting the last word, the potions master sounded like he'd rather be chewing raw glass from a broken vial of poison.

Regulus had brought the Order news of their success in combining potential antidote ingredients. He'd also smugly informed Snape that his obvious favorite student, Harry, along with three others, Hermione, Luna and Kally, had helped.

The man was clearly taking it well.

Tonks immediately grinned, summoning a bowl of popcorn from the kitchen, where she'd stashed it for just such an occasion.

She had to admire Snape's stamina. He had just woken up from a Poppy-induced coma after all. He'd been knocked out well over a week, yet was already raising hell while they waited for the rest of the Order of the Phoenix to arrive. Minerva had called a meeting in Dumbledore's absence.

Regulus came out from where he'd been inspecting a possibly cursed lamp, its shade prone to biting those who ventured too close. "What's the matter Sevvie? Fearful you'll have no one left to insult?" He made a mock tisk. "My, my, with no external outlet whatever will keep the voices at bay?"

Oh yes, she had been right. This was going to be good. Tonks gleefully made herself comfortable on a shockingly purple couch, her hair changing to match. If she blended into the background well enough, this might go on awhile.

Severus had actually growled. "Careful Black. You never know when my wand might jut slip." The Potions Master was fingering his side, where his wand lay hidden, lovingly. "Just imagine what morbid secrets might be inside that head of yours. Perhaps enough for multiple life sentences in Azkaban."

Regulus did not seem at all concerned about the threat of Legilimency being used on him, instead taking a seat on what had once been a posh, leather seat. "Such pent up hostility. Tell me Severus, when was the last time you had a good lay?"

An angered expression flashed across Severus' face, it so hostile that Tonks prepared herself for the possible need to take cover.

Regulus, however, was holding up his hands in mock apology. "Ah, still hung up on Lillian Evans I see. My apologies." Her distant cousin cast her a look of most curiosity. "Whoever knew such affections could linger so long? Particularly over a witch who chose another man?"

Snape had gone eerily quiet. "You are not fit," he threatened lowly, "to so much as speak her name."

"Which one?" Regulus lazily drawled, "Potter or Evans?"

Severus' wand was already out, only for an authoritative voice to interject, "That's quite enough."

The only unoccupied piece of furniture in the room, a table, had upended itself, sliding with an almighty screech right into the center of the room in-between Regulus and Snape, blocking the latter's warpath. Remus had strode in, looking annoyed.

Regulus barely blinked at the sudden appearance of furniture in front of him, casually reclining in his well-worn seat. "You know," he mused aloud, "I reallymust redecorate."

"You are both," Remus groaned, "making my head hurt."

Snape's malevolent look now turned to Lupin, Tonks seizing the opportunity to make an upset sound. "Remus, you ruined my show," she sulked, a handful of popcorn frozen mid-way to her mouth as she shot the werewolf an unhappy pout. "And it was just getting good."

Kingsley walked in, joining Remus in gracing her with identical unamused looks.

Tonks ignored Kingsley and focused on Remus, batting her eyes playfully back.

Regulus let out an outright groan. "Just," he glowered, "get on with it already. Then I will at the very least have justification for attacking the both of you for desecrating my house."

Tonks held up a solitary finger, her suddenly purple nail quietly telling Remus she'd be back with him in just a moment. She then turned her pout on Regulus. "You'd hex even me? But you're my favorite cousin." She grinned.

Regulus didn't' so much as even blink. "Yes."

She made a face, wrinkling her nose. "You know," she said, parts of her body still smarting painfully, "I am really getting sick of getting hexed by family. Can't a witch get a slight pass cuz?" She sent him a sad look. She was still recovering from her undead aunt's latest way of saying hello my darling niece!

Kinglsey dropped a dark hand upon her shoulder. "Don't worry," the Auror assured, "you've been hexed by her so many times now, that you are bound to have figured out her fighting pattern."

Tonks made a slight whine and sunk into the chair. "Why can't she just stay dead? It's really getting annoying to have to keep killing her again and again."

The Head Auror was eyeing her skeptically. "You have figured out her fighting tell," he questioned, as if afraid of her answer. "Right?"

Tonks ignored him, instead turning her attention onto Remus, who was looking at her as if she were some type of particularly special patient in the Janus Thickery Ward. "Well?" she asked him innocently, popping another handful of delicious exploded kernels into her mouth.

Lupin actually looked half afraid. "Well what?"

Her brutally evil grin grew. "Well," the metamorphmagus questioned casually, "how many pups are we going to have?"

Remus promptly began choking on the air.

She gestured carelessly to her undead cousin. "You know, since Regulus seemed curious-"

"I was not," Regulus interjected, "curious."

Tonks ignored him and happily carried on, "I was thinking only one or two originally, but I mean, you might want a whole litter. What with the wolfy DNA and all." Blinking her eyes at him quite innocently, she pressed, "We should discuss. It's only polite."

Snape made a deeply angered sound. "I…will hex…both of you."

Tonks waved a hand. "That's just your recent head injury talking Sevvie. You're going to be our best man."

All the males in the room immediately began choking, leaving Tonks confused. She glanced at Kinsley, "What? Did you want to be it instead?" Shrugging, she gestured at Remus, still grinning. "I mean really you should ask him. It's Remus' decision after all."

Remus sounded quite like he was about to keel over and die. "Tonks, a word?" Tonks had opened her mouth to spew what was sure to be sheer brilliance¸ when Remus took matters into his own hands, grabbing her by the back of her cloak and hauling her up. "Darling."

"Ohhh," she said, as if unbelievably excited. "Remus, you hound. I didn't know you were into S&M." Shoving her popcorn off on Kinglsey she waved happily back at Regulus and Snape. "Play nice boys!"

Despite Remus' death grip, she practically flounced after him, skidding as he abruptly released her in front of the stairwell. "Tonks…"

She frowned. She could practically see his teeth grinding. "You know that's really bad for your enamel, Remus. What kind of a wolf would you be if your teeth weren't in tip top shape?"

Remus groaned, Tonks' heart doing a little skip. It'd been doing a lot of that around him lately. She, however, wasn't the idiot that he was.

Tucking her now chin length hair behind both ears, she grinned. "You know Remus, it looks like you'd rather be facing the sex talk with Harry aga-"

She practically saw his very taut strands of patience snap. "I have not had that talk with him."

"Oh, well I suppose I'll have to then." Hopping up onto the creaking banister and making herself a nice little perch, she beamed at him. There, now she was at his eye level. Why did he have to be so tall?

"Nymphadora…"

Immediately her wand was out, jabbing him on the nose as if it were a rolled up newspaper and he a naughty dog. "I told you to never call me that or," giving an exaggerated shudder, "I will turn you into a pickle."

A second later her wand was back where it belonged, with the speed only Aurors and a very select other few possessed. Tonks might be clumsy, but she was fast. "Now, Remus, are we ready to talk like civilized children and not use horrible parental-given names?" Crossing her arms, trying to look stern, she slipped and almost fell off the railing.

Remus stopped her, grabbing her by both arms and prompting a pleasurable shiver out of her.

Fortunately for Remus she had all kinds of poise under pressure, so casually continued talking as if nothing had happened. "Well Remus? Out with it." She had a very good idea what this was about. They'd only been flirting around the subject ever since they'd met. He was a stubborn one.

Tonks practically beamed in anticipation as she watched Remus Lupin's mouth open and close several times like a fish. "Tonks," he finally said, "I'd rather think that this…thing you've been doing has gone far enough."

She drummed her fingers along the bannister, grin still in place. "Thing? What thing?" she questioned innocently, deciding to torture him just a bit longer.

The incredible wizard in front of her looked annoyed, and she could practically see him developing more gray hairs. She liked that. It made him look distinguished. "Don't play coy, Tonks. You know exactly what thing I'm talking about."

Pretending to give it serious thought, she wiped some dust off the bannister and then inspected her fingers. "Thing…thing…hrm…oh!" Exclaiming as if she had suddenly remembered something, she poked him in the chest with her dust covered finger. "You mean that thing about me wanting to jump your bones? Yes of course, what about it?"

Remus was getting very good at groaning around her. She wondered how she could twist that to her advantage.

"You men are so bad at expressing your feelings," the Auror mused. "You should try it sometime. It's positively cathartic." Finger still on her chest, she gave him another good, solid poke. "Oooh, strong."

Remus calmly took her finger and moved it. "You know, Tonks, that this would be a rather poor idea, given the situation."

"Which one?" she quipped, ignoring his exasperated expression. "There's just so many to choose from with you." Widening her now purple eyes for emphasis, she decided to help him out, and started counting them off on her fingers.

"You're moody. You're prone to going full wolf-man, very sexy by the way, once a month. That's okay though, because I get pretty moody and turn into a banshee about once a month myself, so it'd balance out. You're older than me, You're being romanced by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's gang of werewolf thugs, since the stupid man thinks he can sway you into joining that pack, just because he says they'll accept you better than the stupid rest of the wizarding world will. You have dangerous hobbies, like playing Phoenix against that same band of thugs, so you're sort of slipping into a sexy spy role. And I'm positive that you've been celibate for an unearthly amount of time, but it's really like riding a bike I assure you."

"And then there's me," she carried on with a manic grin, still ticking each statement off on her fingers. "I'm a klutz, which given my profession makes me an unlikely candidate for world's-oldest-witch. I too have amazingly fun and dangerous, Phoenix-oriented hobbies, and you never know what I'm going to look like from day-to-day."

Pausing, she frowned then removed that last one from the final tally. That probably made her every wizard's dream actually.

Swinging her feet from her banister perch, she turned her smile up to supernova level. "What was that, nine?"

"Eight," he responded levelly, looking totally unamused. "You know it's a bad idea." He seemed rather unwavering about this.

Tonks ignored that, tilting her head as if she had to think about it. "But do I?" Making all kinds of hrm-ing sounds, as if arguing with herself, she settled on, "You know, Kingsley always is saying that I don't know how to behave myself."

Before Remus could even finish the resigned sound that he'd started to make, she'd launched herself at him, sealing her lips to his with youthful exuberance.

The sputtering sound Remus made definitely indicated his level of shock. She didn't care though. She was quite over all of his self-induced isolation time periods, his self-depricating comments, and how hot he looked no matter what tattered robes he was wearing.

Breaking away and breathing hard, Tonks couldn't help but notice that Remus' hands had somehow found their way to her waist. Positively beaming she patted him on the chest, as if finalizing a business deal - that was how the Muggles confirmed deals, wasn't it? – she grinned even more. "Don't worry, Remus. You'll get better at it. Meet you upstairs after the Order meeting." She had to carefully pry his hands off her waist.

Flouncing away, leaving Remus standing there, still looking stunned, she called out, "Oh! And think about how many pups you want Wolfy! I'm quite serious about getting a start on that. The world needs repopulated after all this plague business!"

She was back in the room with the others, waiting for the rest of the Order members to gather together, before Remus ever managed to pull himself together.


ECOTS


Kalliandra really hated portkeys. Still feeling dizzy from the last poorly concocted one – something about apparition being impossible on or off of Hogwarts' grounds – she staggered into the room, found the first place to sit that she could, and immediately melted onto it.

McGonagall had arranged for them to attend the Order meeting at Number 12 Grimmauld, making it very clear that them being in the Order was against her better judgment even if she did respect Albus Dumbledore and his "half-witted decision to involve children." They'd all portkeyed there together as soon as it had gotten dark out, the other students long since in their dormitories.

She found herself sitting next to Remus, who for some reason was looking a bit shell shocked, surrounded by people she didn't know. The room was packed, wizards nudging up against one another and practically body checking for position.

It was a small room.

"Perhaps we should have chosen a bigger room?" called a patronly sounding voice, a man with a brilliant shock of red hair coming in and shaking the snow off himself. He stopped, pausing only long enough to lead a woman who was either his wife or sister into the room.

She too had a shocking amount of red hair, and resembled an older Ginny. Wife, Kally mentally decided.

"Mom!" Ginny's relieved sounding voice confirmed it. That must be Mrs. Weasley.

The Weasley matron shook snow off her brilliantly crimson cloak, her fierce blue eyes darting around until they landed on her daughter. "Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione!" The witch all but bowled people out of the way, snaring the four into a grip that boa constrictors would be hard pressed to replicate. Ron, in particular, was squirming.

Neville sat on the couch's arm, watching and actually wincing. "Looks like it would hurt, doesn't it?"

Kally nodded mutely, a slight smile on her lips as she saw Harry shooting her a desperate look.

Mrs. Weasley had released them a second later, rounding on McGonagall. "I am still against this, Minerva! They are children. This is war! They shouldn't be exposed to this type of-"

McGonagall diplomatically appeared to be trying to placate her, only for a set of red-headed men to walk up, thumping large arms around the woman on either side and hauling her into a duo-hug. Kally recognized them from the Battle of Grimmauld. They had been the twins flying around on brooms, and she'd met them, but only briefly.

"Come off it, Mum. You know this lot woulda got in eventually."

"Fred's right, no use fighting the weather, Mum. Never does anyone any good," chimed in the other.

"Unless you're a fan of electrocution and flying in lighting storms."

"Right you are, Fred."

"That was a fun weekend, wasn't it George?"

Right about then was when Molly Weasley lost her temper. "And you two!" she exclaimed, Kally still able to hear the conversation even from where she was seated. "The next time you and those brothers of yours-"

"You mean your loving, innocent children?" George said with a mock expression of hurt.

"Yes!" their mother half snapped. "The next time you use your 'power in numbers' excuse to outvote me on a matter concerning my youngest four, may I remind you that I have baby pictures of you both and they can be put to good use!?"

Their father picked that moment to reach them, patting his wife consolingly. "Now, now Molly, I'm sure the boys were just-"

"They are still children, Arthur!"

"We were children, Mum," one of the twins interjected, suddenly looking far more serious. "Past tense."

His brother nodded agreement. "Hermione's already of age, Mum. Harry, Ron and Ginny are almost of age, and given how many times ole snake eyes has taken out hits on Harry, he might as well already be."

"War made us all grow up quick."

"George is right, Mum. You might not like it, but Voldemort's gonna try to kill us all anyway. 'Specially Harry."

"Might as well let them fight, rather than keep getting surprised when he comes for them."

"Give 'em all a fighting chance."

"Yeah Mum, it's our world too."

Kally blinked a few times, watching the exchange. Ron, Ginny and Harry all looked somewhat uncomfortable. They also looked like they'd had enough of what appeared to be a long running argument. Hermione though…

"Mrs. Weasley," she ventured, looking like she was thinking better of whatever it is she was about to say while being determined to do it anyway, "you've really protected all of us, but…" glancing down for a second, before looking back up, "you can't protect us forever."

"Well, if this isn't all touchingly heart felt."

Regulus swept past the scene in a furl of black, shooting her and Remus a wink. "Positively nauseating, wouldn't you agree?"

Kally let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, biting on her lip in slight amusement. Seizing the chance to look elsewhere, anywhere other than what appeared to a family and its extensions having a private moment amongst others, she looked around at the scene.

Everywhere there were wizards and witches of all sorts hugging one another, offering greetings – some boisterous and some stoic. Kalliandra suddenly felt like a total stranger and very, very alone in the crowded room. These people all knew one another. They had history.

Her history was long since gone.

A hand fell on her arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze. So startled was she that she almost jumped, spotting Remus smiling slightly. Releasing a breath, she remembered that she did have him, managing, "Here I thought you'd gone catatonic."

"Just…contemplative."

Raising an eyebrow, she questioned, "Is there a difference?"

Remus tapped his long fingers. "Of course. One implies a certain lack of control. The other implies deep thought."

This time it wasn't just Kally shooting him an odd look: Neville had joined in.

"Oh don't mind him."

Tonks, her hair purple and chin length today, had unceremoniously rolled right over the back of the couch, landing backwards on the cushion next to her and nearly knocking Neville off the arm rest. "Wothcer Kally, Neville," she greeted, half upside down and gesturing at Remus. "Don't mind him. He's gone all stoically silent since I decided to start snogging him."

Kally's head whipped around, mouth open to start asking a million questions, only for Remus' hand to pointedly cover her mouth in an apparent kind attempt to smother her. The look he shot Neville promised similar things if the wizard made so much as a peep.

Kalliandra found herself making protesting, angry sounds, but Remus just ignored her, glaring over her head at Tonks. "We will discuss that," he said, "later, dear."

Tonks grinned jovially. "Over breakfast then?"

"It's 9 o'clock in the evening."

"My point exactly."

Kally was beginning to get a very good idea of what Tonks was implying, and promptly bit Remus' hand.

The werewolf actually made an annoyed sound, yanking his hand away and shaking it out. The look he shot her was pure disbelief. "Did you just-"

"You were smothering me!" she defended, hearing Tonks' snickering from behind her. Immediately gesturing between the two, she added, "So are you two-"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Blinking, glancing between the two, Tonks took the opportunity to clarify, flipping around and now sitting cross legged. "I'm still winning him over."

Remus made an odd growling sound, before turning his attention back to her. "It's good to see you, Kalliandra. Have you been enjoying your respite from your potions apprenticeship?"

She simply shot him a look that answered that very clearly. Then again… she glanced around quickly. "Professor Snape, he's supposed to be here right?" It'd been well over a week since the accident. Pomfrey had assured her that skull fractures did heal, and that Snape would be back in action soon.

He was, standing in the corner as far from the room's other occupants as possible and giving them all a look that could kill.

"Personality like that he must be superbly pleasant to work with," Tonks observed cheekily. "Maybe we should start rating his glowers on a sinister scale of 1 to 14?"

Tilting her head and eyeballing Snape for a second, Kally muttered out of the side of her mouth, "That one's only a seven."

"Really? I would have said a three."

They both turned to look at Neville. The round-faced wizard just shrugged. "I am not," he told, "on Professor Snape's good side. If you think that's a seven," gesturing, "he must like you."

The look of bewilderment on Kally's face was enough to cause Tonks to laugh.

Remus, however, let out a loud groan. "You are all," he stated, "giving me a headache."

Tonks merely grinned. "You know Remy dear, I have remedies for that."

The werewolf looked stricken. "Remy?"

"Trying something," the Auror said airily, as if he ought to be accustomed to receiving pet names on a daily basis.

Neville snorted, but Tonks had turned her attention onto her rather suddenly.

"You know," the purple haired witch said casually, seizing upon the room's loud volume to hold a quieter conversation, "Remus here has mentioned that you've been spending a lot of time with, Harry." She said it all as if such conversation shifts were totally normal.

Kally suddenly understood exactly why Remus had appeared almost twitchy. Tonks' gaze was positively penetrating. Wetting her lips and glad for how loud it was, Kally sunk into the couch farther and nervously met the woman's gaze. "Yeah?"

"Tonks-"

Tonks quieted Remus by jabbing him in the leg with her wand in an only slightly threatening gesture.

"And I understand," Tonks continued pleasantly, "that you can't do magic properly."

The congenial-natured young witch had evaporated in the span of a second, both purple and penetrating eyes studying her. Kally really didn't have an answer for that other than to nod.

Tonks sat cross-legged on the couch, facing her, and was now tapping her wand on her knee thoughtfully. "Harry needs people around him that can fend for themselves, Kally. Otherwise he could get killed. You do know that?" Not missing a beat, she continued curiously, "Nothing personal or against Muggles or almost-Muggles, you understand, but…can you?"

Kally really wanted to melt into the couch and disappear. Like she needed the reminder that she could not do magic like the rest of them. She really didn't belong here.

Opening her mouth to acknowledge that truth, Neville interrupted.

"She can fend for herself, if that's what you're worried about."

Once again, they both looked at Neville. Tonks' gaze was critical, while Kally's was somewhat surprised.

Neville didn't back down. "She saved us at the Three Broomsticks on Halloween," he firmly told her, keeping his voice low, sounding almost angry, "using magic. So if you've got a problem with her and Harry, then you've got a problem with him and anyone with magic. You've also," he continued, "got a problem with me."

Her housemate gave her a serious nod, and Kally could only look at him gratefully, mouthing thank you.

Tonks, however, had continued to tap her wand on her knee, as if thinking it over, frowning. "Well that settles it doesn't it?" Abruptly her very serious expression broke into a large grin. "Snog away Kally-kins. Just don't corrupt our Harry too badly. It'd give Molly positive fits."

"Fits about what?"

The red headed Weasley matriarch had approached, still looking somewhat disgruntled at her children as she eyed first Tonks, then Neville, then Remus, and then her.

Kally actually winced.

Fortunately that was when the doors slammed shut.


ECOTS


Remus was shooting her a look that rivaled one of Snape's, so she did what came naturally to her.

Tonks gave him a little wave and a wide grin.

She almost felt bad about the impromptu interrogation of Kalliandra – the girl looked downright skittish now - but it had needed done. When Dumbledore had been so content to leave Harry abandoned after the Hogsmeade attacks, allegedly to help him learn to survive on his own, he'd apparently been left with only Kally, an almost-Muggle Reach, as his back-up.

Tonks was an Auror. She'd naturally had some concerns.

There were an awful lot of people after Harry. He was brash enough as it was, and he didn't need additional people to watch out for around him. He had enough of a hard time watching out for his own hide already.

She would know. She'd seen him stow his wand in jeans back pockets enough times to make her seriously fear for the safety of his buttocks.

But apparently the girl was useful, and that was good enough for her. She'd just had to check.

Giving Neville Longbottom a quick ruffle of his hair, she told, "You've got each other's backs. I like that!"

Longbottom immediately swatted at her and tried to fix his hair.

Molly Weasley just frowned. "Tonks please elabora-"

"Oh yeah, they're-"

A subtle, quick spell from Remus' wand rendered Tonks mute, the rest of her words inaudible. Tonks stopped, thought that over, and then settled on a quick gesture between Harry and Kalliandra, making kissy faces.

Molly Weasley suddenly looked rather faint.

Tonks let out a silent cackle.

Minerva saved Kalliandra from a second round of interrogations though, slamming the doors to the room while Tonks made upset gestures at Remus. They clearly demanded that he undo the silencing charm on her.

He, of course, ignored her.

An aged, powerful voice cut through the crowded room. "We have lost," it stated solemnly, "another half million."

All the conversations within the room stopped.

"Within," Minerva's wizened words continued, "one week."

Tonks wand froze mid-tap against her knee, and she abruptly forgot all about torturing Remus or Kalliandra, instead frowning. She'd known it had gotten bad, that it was getting worse.

She hadn't known it was this bad.

The Ministry of Magic had managed to keep that part somewhat quiet. Instantly she feared for Kenneth and Emily Bothan. She'd grown rather fond of that Muggle child.

"So….it's true. It's spreading faster."

The snide words came from a far corner, where Severus Snape stood, cloaked in black.

Minerva grimaced weakly. "I am afraid so, Severus."

"Then we have little time to lose. It will only escalate from here."

Uncomfortably the many wizards and witches gathered shifted, allowing a clear line of sight between the Headmistress and Potions' Master.

"How fast, Severus?" The Headmistress looked worried.

"Does it still have," he questioned coldly, "a hundred percent kill rate?"

McGonagall's lips had grown strained amidst the cold, stale air of Number 12 Grimmauld. "Regrettably." The floorboards overhead creaked, the dilapidated house groaning as if it desired swift death.

Snape was quiet for a long moment, as if slowly doing the math. "Then assuming a modest transmission rate," he stated calmly, as if talking about nothing more than mere numbers and not actual human lives, " if it has been following an exponential pattern of spread since October 31st, then even with the precautions the Muggles and Ministries are taking…" A shadow passed through the normally emotionless man's eyes. "Over five million. The death toll should rise to that within just under a week."

Five million. Tonks' silent lips were mouthing the words. She understood the number, but trying to comprehend the loss of that many people, that many human lives

She wasn't able to. It was too high, too many.

"Within the month," Snape had continued, "over one-hundred million will have contracted it." The room was so quiet that the aged groans of the house could now be clearly heard. "I suspect that even our precious Ministry will be find itself hard pressed to prevent that from infiltrating our society."

Tonks reached out both her hands, finding Neville and Kalliandra's, and gave them both a good hard squeeze.

"But you might have a cure?" The voice had been half-hopeful, half-afraid of the response. It had come from Deadulus Diggle.

Snape's head snapped around towards the man. "We have," he drawled, "a possible cure. The Death Eaters are the only ones who have a proper one. We are merely playing in a hazardous game of guess work."

"We will have to test it," Kinglsey stated aloud, more to himself than to anyone else.

"You don't say? And here I thought we were planning to not," drawled Regulus.

The look the Head Auror shot him had leveled lesser men, Kingsley's hook earring glinting in the dim lighting of Grimmauld. Regulus, for all intents and purposes, seemed impervious to the effect.

"The Death Eaters," Minerva pressed, intent to continue, "developed a spell, one to make those it was cast upon immune. Thus far, we have no proof of its efficacy. But, as you remember, it was cast upon all those trapped in wizarding-run areas last October."

How could they forget? The paperwork alone from those attacks had taken weeks. Tonks shifted on the couch nervously, her nails practically digging into Kalliandra and Neville's hands.

"Not all of us," McGonagall continued, "were within the boundaries when the spells were cast. Most of us, indeed, were not."

"Can't imagine why that is," drawled Regulus. Seeing the looks shot his way he merely smirked. "If you are all too foolish to not realize the coincidence in that, where no Order members benefited from it, then your faculties are too far gone for even a remedial explanation in war strategies to help."

"You mean Angelina told them when places were free of Order members?" Fred Weasley sounded strained, hurt. George had dropped a grip on his shoulder, squeezing tight. "She made sure we'd not be there, so we wouldn't become immune, so we'd catch the plague when it spread and die."

Molly Weasley was looking at her son with a look of pure remorse. Regulus, however, gestured gallantly. "Ah, finally. One of the red heads with some intelligence. Kill off the opposition passively and they lose none of their soldiers fighting us. It's rather brilliant when you think it over."

"So when do we test this cure?"

Bill Weasley, dragon tooth hanging from his ear, had stepped forward, looking ready for battle. "If none of us are immune and that antidote doesn't work it's a death mission. So who do we send?"

The look he shot Regulus Black, the man still disguised as Casper from the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, clearly stated who he'd like to send.

Regardless, the question lingered, no one speaking. Those gathered all shifted nervously, Snape's muttered comment of ingrates obvious.

George Weasley was looking intensely at the room's occupants. "Well? Come off it. Who here do we know might be immune already? Who was in a village during the attacks when the spells were cast?"

"Yeah," Fred stiffly added. "They'll have the best chance."

Tonks felt Longbottom give her hand a hard squeeze, and then the son of Frank and Alice Longbottom stood up. "I was."

Minerva looked rather ready to protest. "Mr. Longbottom, I'm afraid that I cannot condone one of my students-"

"Why not?" Neville demanded fiercely. "It's our best shot. They didn't know I was in the Order then, because I wasn't. Angelina couldn't have told them about me and I'm a pureblood. I was knocked out, perfect wizarding stock for them to want to keep alive. I got knocked out in the village and woke up in the village, so was there when they cast it. Not to mention there's nobody else."

"You can't go alone, Neville," Harry spoke up, looking far too serious for someone of his years.

Tonks felt almost choked up seeing that. Squeezing Kalliandra's hand, she seriously considered having another talk with the girl. She better not hurt Harry.

"I was there too," Hermione said, voice a bit quieter when compared to Harry's. "I was knocked out though, and when I woke up I was somewhere else, so…I can't be sure."

"Ah yes, how was your captivity with the Dark Lord girl? Did he show you his new and favorite tricks for Muggleborns?"

Both Harry and Ron made to lunge for Snape, the twins grabbing and holding them both back.

"In-fighting will get us nowhere," Kingsley roughly reprimanded, a silencing look thrown at all parties.

"Hermione," Remus stated carefully, "while it's noble that you wish to help, Severus is correct. You are Muggle born, and it's doubtful that any Death Eater would have given you that type of protection."

"Yeah," Kalliandra practically spat, "because his half-vampire-veela-werewolf-wizard genetic experiment freaks are apparently so much better and more human to them than Muggle-borns." The bitterness in her voice was palpable.

"Then who's going with Neville?"

"I am."

Ginny shook her mother's hand off, stepping forward. "I may have been under the imperious curse," she stated firmly, "but I remember enough to know that I was still in the village when that protective charm was cast." The young red-head shuttered. "It felt…wrong, when they did it."

Minerva looked like she was having serious reservations, but Remus had stood, placing a steadying hand on Molly Weasley's shoulder. "It sounds," he stated seriously, "like this may be our only option."

Regulus grunted from besides the biting lamp shade. "Unless of course you would all just like the plague to continue spreading?" he drawled. "And if that doesn't kill off enough people, I'm sure Voldemort's plan to have it look like a case of biological warfare between nations won't kick off another world war. After all, we all know just how reasonable Muggles are with their warheads. I'm sure it won't affect us at all."

Something conflicted was blazing in the Weasley matriarch's gaze, but her youngest had turned to her, pleading, "Please, Mum. I know you're worried but there's no one else." She gestured around the room. "The only ones that were even near the village boundaries were the students. Ron, Luna, and Professor Lupin were already in the Forbidden Forest by then, and Harry and Kally had been portkeyed off elsewhere by then. Dean-" she stopped, swallowing. "Dean was hurt and inside the village, but he's not in the Order. And-"

The door to the room flew open, Amarante and Tres – their Australian recruits – stumbling in and brushing off their cloaks. Harry hadn't seen Amarante since he'd provided he and Kaylens cover in Hogsmeade. "Beg yours, mates," Amarante touted in apology, "bit of a Death Eater mess."

"Yeah, drongos were attacking some random Muggles."

"Don't worry, we set them straight."

"They'll be chucking up 'till sun up."

"Left 'em nice and gift wrapped for the Ministry, hog-tied on someone's porch. Trick we learned visiting Texas."

"Very effective," Amarante finished off, taking over Remus' recently vacated seat and looking around. "So, what we'd miss?"

The entire room stared at the DADA Professor and his brother, a slow, purposeful look creeping onto Remus' face.


ECOTS


"Are we sure this is a good idea?"

Harry was pretty certain that Mrs. Weasley would wear a hole in the floor. She was ringing her hands, pacing around the kitchen, while Mr. Weasley attempted to sooth her.

It wasn't going well.

Many of the Order members had already left, the decision made to send Neville, Ginny, Amarante and Tres into Ground Zero, Dublin, to test out the potential cures.

Amarante and Tres were the only adult Order members to have been in the village at the time of the immunity casting, so they would accompany Ginny and Neville. There was still no guarantee the Death Eater's spell would work though.

There was also no guarantee the potential antidotes manufactured by all of them in Snape's lab would work either.

If contracted, the plague was 100% fatal.

None of this made any of them exactly happy about sending four of their own into it. All four were going to be disillusioned. It'd make it easier for them to navigate the mandatory quarantine placed on the city without coming into contact with anyone. They would also be wearing bubblehead charms. It would minimize the risk of them contracting the contagion.

Harry slumped against some old cupboards next to Kally and Luna, and gave Neville and Ginny a thumbs up. Neville had nodded back stiffly, his dorm mate not having said much since the decision was made. Ginny, on the other hand, wore a look of such deep determination that he barely recognized her. She'd tossed her hair back into a tight ponytail, her fingers tightly wrapped around her wand as if eager to use it.

He could only imagine. She wanted revenge for what they'd done to her, for what they'd made her do to Seamus.

To the side, Regulus and Snape were shrinking potions vials and placing them in a shatterproof bag, the two bickering over who should be trusted to carry it since it obviously couldn't be Longbottom.

Amarante eventually exclaimed something akin to 'for Merlin's sake' and made the decision for them, snatching it. "There, are you two happy?" The Australian turned to the others, muttering things about men bickering like married couples.

Even Harry hadn't been able to repress a snort at that one.

They were almost ready to leave.

Harry was glad they'd stayed. All four of them had flat out refused to go back to Hogwarts without seeing them off. Neville and Ginny were part of their Order, the new order, and Harry would be damned if they left for a dangerous mission without them being there for moral support.

If the plague didn't get them, the Death Eaters might.

The adults hadn't even tried to argue.

"Wait," Luna had spoken up, the blonde witch rooting around in her expandable purse and unearthing a camera. Walking over and setting it on top of an icebox, she used her wand to tilt it off angle slightly, scrutinizing it very, very seriously.

Then she turned back to the group. "Okay, it's ready."

Harry found himself being ushered with the others into a group photo. No one was saying what they were all thinking. It could very well be the last time they were in any picture with Neville and Ginny. The muffled sniffling that Mrs. Weasley made was the only indicator.

Getting jostled alongside Ron and Hermione, Harry snared Kaylens by the sleeve and tugged her in front of him, dragging his arm around her waist. The brief look he got from Mrs. Weasley he ignored. Right now he didn't much care what anyone thought. The non-witch said nothing, nothing needing said. Instead she just leaned back against him, their left hands tightly interlacing.

Harry tossed his right arm around Hermione's shoulders, his best friend doing the same. Ron had looped an arm around Ginny on one side, Hermione on the other. Judging from Ginny's expression, her brother had her in too tight a grip, obviously not keen on letting his little sister go.

Ron had to though. He, like the rest of them, knew that she was right. She was one of their best options for this mission.

Others jostled about, Luna sliding in between Kaylens and Neville. The rest of the Weasleys, minus Percy, crowded in behind Ron and Ginny. Fred and George had hands on top of Ginny's head, tussling her hair. Mundungus stood off to the side, twirling a bowling hat on his finger, while Snape and Regulus took up position on opposite sides of the group, scowling at one another in the dangerously unclean scullery. Snape had only been drug in by Minerva's rather pointed look.

A second later Tonks had abandoned her perch on the counter top, sliding in right up front, grinning alongside Amarante and Tres, who were making goofy faces. Kingsley stood in the back, far taller than the rest, shooting a disapproving look at his protégé as she joined the Aussies.

And then there was Remus.

His father's last remaining friend had watched the set up somberly, something pained on his face. Harry's chest twisted unpleasantly, tightening his fingers around Kaylens. He knew what was wrong with Remus.

He'd seen a photograph of the Marauders amidst the other Order members, the ones from the original Order of the Phoenix, long ago.

Most of the people in that photograph were long since dead.

Harry could only hope that, at the end of everything, that he would be the only one missing from the picture. Too many people had died because of him, because in the end it would be either him or Voldemort.

Harry already knew his chances of coming out of that fight were slim, but he sure as hell would be taking Riddle out with him.

"Say Blimering Humdinger," called Luna dreamily, the camera flashing brightly.

The fight to prevent humanity's extinction was on.


ECOTS


It was raining when they arrived.

The crack of apparition echoed in the desolate, abandoned road, Ginny's feet landing in a deep, cold puddle.

The stench hit her first.

Sucking in a breath, the Weasley's youngest released Amarante's arm and blinked water out of her eyes, gagging, her brilliantly red hair already soaking, sticking to her cheeks as she just tried to breath amidst the smell. It smelled like-

Like death.

The four wizards stood in the dark, within the remains of what had been, at a time, an undeniably beautiful side street. Even in the pitch black of night they could see that. The street was a combination of cobblestone and stonework, rivers of rain water freely flowing through all the cracks. Once it had clearly serviced only foot traffic, though now several abandoned cars remained, one turned sideways in the footpath as if its occupant had been in too much of a hurry to park.

Beer barrels sat outside pubs with broken glass, the wooden barrels bearing the names of the town's favorite spirits already fading. Pieces of trash, clothing, even a shoe lay soaking everywhere. None of the trash accounted for the ungodly stench.

She could hear Neville gagging alongside her. Shivering, gasping, Ginny raised her wand, casting the bubblehead charm on herself as quickly as she could. Instantly the cold of the rain, the icy breeze of the wind, vanished from her cheeks.

As did the smell.

Taking a moment to just breath without the reek, she leaned forward on her knees until the reeling of her stomach calmed. Her eyelashes stuck wetly together, the Gryffindor blinking past it just to be able to see.

"Never quite got used to that stench," Amarante muttered, already safely within the confines of his own bubblehead. The man was looking around, Ginny shooting him a look that clearly demanded to know when, how and why he'd smelled that acrid reek before.

The DADA Professor's brother shrugged. "Spent some time in a mortuary, and no young lady I cannot tell you more, or I'd probably have to kill you."

Neville made a choking sound. Ginny couldn't agree more. Bubblehead charm or not, that smell was still in her nose. To make matters worse, her clothing was rapidly sticking to her, sealing against her body with the frigid rain, her entire form starting to shiver. It was early January, it was dark out, and she was freezing.

They were all trying to get their bearings, Neville somehow finding them first.

"This doesn't look like the hospital."

"You sure?" Amarante replied with sarcastic wit. "And here I thought it was just a posh waiting room."

The look Neville shot him could have cut holes in steel plates. Ginny was with him. The plan had been to apparate unseen, into a back alley behind one of Dublin's largest hospitals. They'd be guaranteed protective supplies and as many patients as they needed.

Instead they were here.

"There must be anti-apparation wards on the main part of the city," Tres stated emotionlessly. "Give you three guesses who erected those."

Neville flipped his wand in hand, making an angered sound. Amarante just looked mildly put out. "We'll have to alter our plan."

"Well in that case, we better move fast," Tres interjected coldly, "before someone sees us. No lighting charms." The normally jovial DADA Professor was looking up and down the utterly empty street as if expecting a mob of Death Eaters or worse, plague-infested citizens, to emerge from the shadows at any moment. "We should also find somewhere dry."

Now that sounded good. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, Ginny shivered in response. Neville sent her an appraising glance, as if trying to decide if she were alright or not, before he raised his wand and muttered a spell.

He disappeared abruptly.

"Neville, when did you-"

Neville's disembodied voice drifted out. "D.A. last year."

He'd learned the disillusionment charm. Even through the fierce, fierce cold, Ginny felt slightly impressed. That was one of the most complex for a wizard to cast, few being able to manage it. Hell, it was one of the charms that she still struggled with.

"I don't think we're going to get into a hospital if there's wards surrounding them," Tres was observing. "Too risky. We'll have to find someone who is ill outside of one."

"Shouldn't," Amarante responded dryly, "be a problem. We'll try the main roads. There's bound to be people who broke down fleeing."

"Stick together so we don't lose one another."

Feeling a wand touch her shoulder, Ginny's own hands disappeared right in front of her. Neville's voice grunted his agreement near her ear, "Let's do this." Footfalls and splashing indicated that he was already moving, leading the charge.

Ginny sucked in another breath of fresh, bubblehead air and followed, Amarante and Tres disappearing rapidly. The only sign that any of them had ever existed upon that road was the now unnatural splashing of water where it should be laying still.

It wasn't until they emerged onto the main road that they found their first bodies. In the deep shadows Ginny almost failed to recognize them for what they were, but they were there. They were there, piled three deep in places, stacked against buildings, some slumped in their vehicles, large sores having burst open, black pus dripping down from the wounds, mixing with the water flooding the streets.

She could see all of this by only the light of the moon. Muggle electricity was dead, everywhere.

Ginny's stomach retched, and it was all she could do to keep it down. Neville had grabbed her shoulder, tightening reassuring fingers on her, somehow magically knowing exactly where she had been at all times.

The water pooling around their feet looked infected with acrid blood.

"It's contaminated," Amarante barked urgently. Ginny felt him brush her arm, clearly alongside them now. "Do any of you have open wounds anywhere? On your feet, ankles, anywhere this water has touched?"

Tres had already sworn, casting charms. "We need to transfigure waterproof rain boots."

Amarante swore angrily. "I hate Ireland."

"Good thing we never lived here then."

"Yeah, just lived everywhere else brother."

Ginny wiggled her fingers around her wand, trying to control her breathing. She couldn't think of any wounds on her offhand, but…if so much as a paper cut could mean life or death…

A flash of light erupted from where she thought Neville stood. "Already covered," he said resolutely. "Ginny, are you-"

She nodded, transfiguring her own shoes. "I'm good."

The four stood in silence for a long moment, rain pounding down around them, Neville finally breaking the quiet. "We'll need gloves." Overhead something creaked, a wrought iron plant hanger's chain swinging in the breeze. Every brick-edifice along the road had similar flower holders, but the baskets swaying from their chains now only held dead, decaying plants. Their dead leaves and vines looked like ghostly, skeletal fingers stretching out into the night.

A box of gloves had materialized, floating in mid-air. "Take them." Apparently the Gai brothers had come prepared. Ginny took several, shoving them deep into her pockets, feeling Neville alongside her doing the same.

She was soaked to the bone, shivering, not sure where they needed to go. "So what's the plan then," she questioned. "Just walk around until we find someone?"

"Unless you have a better one?"

Neville snorted alongside her.

Right then a street dog emerged from an alleyway, obviously attracted by the sounds they were making, its nose in the air, sniffing them out.

It was covered in pus-filled wounds, its ribs showing.

And then it turned towards them and began to growl.

Ginny sucked in an unsteady breath. "Neville…"

An incorporeal hand fell firmly on her shoulder. "We're good, Gin."

"First test subject," Amarante said, sounding somewhat invigorated. His voice had been a stark contrast to Neville's somber one. Hell, he sounded almost jovial.

A second later the dog was stunned, its yelp truncated as it was knocked unconscious on the road. Ginny winced, turning and scanning the road for other signs of life. She felt bad for the dog, but…if this worked, the dog would be cured and live. Then it wouldn't die. That was something.

A leviosa charm was muttered, the dog floating past her, Tres suggesting they use a storefront for the first test.

Neville released her shoulder, his voice issuing an unlocking charm, the door to the nearest shop swinging open to emit the dog. Ginny could hear the sound of Amarante clinking around potions vials, and-

It was all overwhelming.

She couldn't allow herself to let it get to her. She was here. She had come here because she had to. She'd come here because she refused to be the witch that had killed her boyfriend while under an unforgivable curse and then spent the rest of her life wallowing.

Flipping her wet hair back, Ginerva Weasley steeled herself, took a deep breath, and then followed the others around the body of an elderly man and into the empty storefront.

They had work to do.


ECOTS


They were going to be gone for at least a day, possibly longer. Harry paced in front of the common room fireplace, his fist tightening then untightening around his wand.

Ron had slumped onto the couch, missed and wound up on the floor. His best mate hadn't moved from there in over an hour, as if his will to live was hanging in the balance somewhere in Dublin.

Harry knew how he felt. "She'll be," he tried to reassure, "okay." He didn't entirely believe it himself. "Neville's with her." About a year ago that wouldn't have given him even the slightest bit of relief, but after the Death Eaters had broken out of Azkaban something had changed in Neville.

He had started improving at a frightening pace, and in their training with McGonagall was only getting better.

"Doesn't mean I like it," Ron grated, his sizeable fist clenching and unclenching around some unseen adversary's throat. "I don't-I just want to do something."

Harry definitely understood how that felt. This waiting around…

He didn't like it at all.

"And when the hell," Ron continued, "is Hermione coming back?"

The second they'd port keyed back from Number 12 Grimmauld, it well after midnight, McGonagall had sent them back to their dorms and taken Kaylens and Hermione with her. "What's the matter?" Harry asked, grasping for a distraction for both of them. "Finally planned to take the plunge and snog her tonight?"

Ron shot him a look. "Shut it, Harry."

Harry merely released a wryly amused breath. "Seriously Ron, get on with it already, or Viktor will."

Now Ron was back to looking green again.

It was near dawn when the Fat Lady's portrait finally opened, both of them still down in the common room, just waiting.

Hermione came in, half dragging a rather gray-looking Kaylens with her, Professor McGonagall not far behind.

Harry stopped mid-step in front of the hearth, the flames almost out, and stared at them. "What the hell happened to her?"

"Ten points for language, Mr. Potter," McGonagall clipped, her shrewd eyes surveying them.

Hermione's brown ones were doing the same. "I see neither of you have bothered to sleep."

"Neither have you," he shot back, gesturing at Kaylens. "Again, why does she look so bad?"

Kaylens tiredly slumped onto the couch, sarcastically muttering, "Nice to see you too, Potter. Why are we dating again?"

He half growled, "You know what I meant."

"Yet you're," Ron bemoaned grouchily, "the one giving me snogging advice?"

Hermione actually did a double take, Harry giving Ron a less-than-polite gesture as he kept his gaze on Kaylens. McGonagall just looked like she was rapidly developing a migraine, and took another 10 points away for inappropriate displays of annoyance at house mates.

"With due respect Professor," Harry stated very calmly, "why don't we make it an even fifty right now, just to cover the rest of the conversation."

The acting Headmistress shot him a steely look that conveyed her clear amusement. "That will be quite enough, Mr. Potter."

He'd seriously had enough of adults telling him when he could or couldn't do something, and that included flipping off his best mate when he deserved it. Grunting begrudging agreement, Harry stalked over to the couch Kaylens now sat slumped on, grabbing her face between both hands and studying her as if she were about to drop dead on him.

The look she shot him was somewhat irritated. "I'm not," she griped, "going to deteriorate into tiny pieces of ash, if that's what you're worried about."

"Debatable," he replied back. "You'd think differently if you could see yourself in a mirror."

"Remind me to stop snogging you."

He made an irritated sound. "Like you'd last."

Somewhere off to the side he swore to Salazar Slytherin's dead basilisk that he heard McGonagall muttering something about teenagers under her breath.

"What were you three doing?" Yes! Harry silently thanked Ron for finally asking a pertinent question, since the three witches were not exactly being forthcoming. Kaylens swatted one of his hands away, Harry merely snaring her hand in his and ignoring the protesting noise she made.

"We were in the Room of Requirement," Hermione stated simply, McGonagall casting a privacy charm around them. "Professor McGonagall wanted to see if Kally could draw on some of the conjured Death Eaters in there without getting sick."

Right. So they'd obviously gone insane. Kaylens had just gotten out of the hospital wing a few days prior. She'd drawn enough for months already that week alone helping make those potions. And that was all without mentioning that it had been the middle of the night.

Before he had a chance to snarl any of that at all of them, the Headmistress beat him to it.

"Since the Death Eaters do not choose convenient times to attack, Mr. Potter," McGonagall stated unapologetically, "I thought it best to see what Ms. Kaylens could do when already exhausted. If the rest of you have to practice, so does she, and Ms. Granger kindly offered her assistance in the matter."

Harry's other hand dropped from Kaylens' face, and he was suddenly certain that he was developing an eye twitch.

"So let me get this straight," Ron was muttering tiredly, head dropping back against the couch cushions and eyes closing, "Kally over there can accidentally kill people if she messes that up. She can also get herself killed. So you both thought it would be a good idea to have her try that, intentionally, with Hermione in there, in the middle of the night, where no one could hear any of you scream?" He cracked a blue eye. "I got that right?"

Hermione was looking somewhat murderous, lips pursed and annoyed. Professor McGonagall simply looked unamused. "What a macabre summation Mr. Weasley. Since you are so wide awake this morning, I dare say that it's your turn to work on your changing abilities, wouldn't you agree?"

The Headmistress abruptly turned in a whirl of black cloak and beckoned him, Ron outright groaning. "Do I least get Harry as a sparring mate?"

"No Mr. Weasley, you will have me today. Unless of course you are afraid that you cannot outdo an old woman?"

Ron begrudgingly shoved himself off his spot on the ground, muttering to himself about he was going to die by a cat's claws.

Hermione's angry gaze followed him the entire way. "He really is a bit of an idiot at times," she half hissed as the portrait swung shut.

Kaylens laughed tiredly, Harry not entirely sure if he should agree of not. "He was worried," he stated simply, "about you."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes well, he has a funny way of showing it." She then waved, heading off for the dormitories. "Good look, Kally."

Kaylens hazel orbs were cracked, glaring after her. "Traitor."

"I somehow don't think she heard you," he dryly carped, green gaze hard on hers. He was exhausted, but adrenaline and deep damn worry for Ginny and Neville had kept him awake. He knew that they wouldn't hear from them for a bit. Communications between them and the rest of the Order wouldn't be safe until their mission was done, since the risk of Death Eater interception was too high, but that didn't make the waiting any easier.

They'd been told it might be a day or more before their objective was completed, and even that was subject to change if they encountered resistance.

Kaylens and Hermione being gone had just been the bitter icing on the evening. Now, having them both back and one practically in his lap, he decided that did sound better. Her sitting next to him wasn't enough.

Harry abruptly had hauled her legs over his own in a second, his hand remaining on her calf, thumb moving across her bare skin as he considered the incredibly tired, pale looking non-witch before him. "I can't help but notice," he bluntly told, "that you're not unconscious in the hospital wing. So what," he pressed slower, tugging her brow against his, "happened?"

She let out a tired sigh. "McGonagall," she murmured, "she had the room create some Death Eaters, and had me try to take them out."

His fingers flexed tensely against her, one hand traveling slowly along her spine. "Like in Hogsmeade."

"Yeah," Kaylens breathed, her breath tracing against his chin. His own gaze dropped closed, the feel of her close after not having been able to touch her all night, not even at the Order meeting, doing good things to his stomach. "McGonagall…she figured if I could draw multiple times for the potions that-that starting to train for this wouldn't hurt much."

Now Harry's chest twisted violently. She could die. Remus had told him that, months ago. He'd known for a long time now that Kaylens was sick. She might have some magic, but she hadn't gotten as lucky as a sodding veela or giant. She wasn't whole like they were. Each drawing was another damn gamble.

Something in him didn't want her to gamble.

He also knew damn well he couldn't stop her.

Voice ragged, he shifted, speaking abruptly against her forehead, "Did she now?" He wasn't exactly pleased by that. His grip slid to the back of Kaylens' head, the non-witch nodding.

"She thinks I might be getting better."

Now that…that he liked hearing.

Muttering something, he finally ground, "Unicorn blood. So it is helping." He half-regretted having tried to crush Angelina's throat now.

"Mmmhmm," came her sleepy murmur, Potter feeling her relax in his grip. Pulling away slightly, he saw her eyes had fluttered closed, Kaylens looking only half awake now.

The remnants of the fire crackled for some time, Harry remaining there on the couch with her, his fingers moving gently through her hair. At some point her face had wound up against his shoulder, the non-witch looking comfortable, content. "Kaylens," he quietly muttered, aware that he was probably waking her up.

He was right. She made a grumbling sound, not even cracking an eye to glare. "What," she muttered, too tired to sound annoyed, "could you possibly want?"

Harry's hand slid to the side of her face, glad for the distraction from whatever hell Neville and Ginny faced. "I like you." Gruff, unapologetic, he watched her golden gaze flutter sleepily open, studying his own. His mouth twitched smugly. "Thought you should know."

A wane, drowsy smile touched her lips as her eyes fluttered back shut. "Idiot," she whispered.

A low laugh vibrated through him. "Glad it's mutual."

Her fingers slid up his chest, tightening tiredly against the front of his shirt. "Of course it is."

Harry's throat got somewhat tight, the wizard that had faced down Voldemort more than once needing a actual minute to process what was going on. Outside the common room windows it was still dark, but dawn was rapidly approaching. Finally…

"Let's go upstairs."

She made a protesting sound, determinedly burrowing her face deeper against his shoulder. "But I'm comfortable. Dorms too far…"

"Who said," he countered, "I was letting you go back to yours?"

Incredibly golden eyes peered up at him, Harry actually smiling. "Come on," he muttered, shifting and gathering her the hell up, tugging her off the couch. The slightly tired squeak she made he ignored. Like he'd drop her.

Then again, there had been that full out brawl they'd had. No wonder she squeaked.

Harry carried the half-asleep witch to his dorm. Pale as she was, he wasn't letting her out of his sight. Reaching his bed he had her in it with ease, Harry joining her, dragging an arm around her and pulling her tight to his chest.

Dropping his face in her hair, he let himself enjoy this. Ron was gone. Neville was gone. It was just him and her and-

"Harry, you dog."

Dean Thomas had propped himself up on an arm, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he smirked at the two of them. Kaylens had already fallen asleep, exhausted as she was from McGonagall's late night training session.

Harry, however, shot Dean the same friendly hand gesture he'd given Ron earlier.

Thomas guffawed, flopping back down. "Pretend I'm not here, mate."

The return of snoring was almost immediate.

Harry wasn't far behind. He too, was exhausted.

He just hoped that Neville and Ginny were doing alright.