"You've faced horrors in these past weeks…I don't know which is worse. The terror you feel the first time you witness such things, or the numbness that comes after it starts to become ordinary."
~ Tasha Alexander
Chapter 35 ~ Numb
ECOTS
Harry felt numb.
Dumbledore and he had spoken…for awhile. Little of the conversation had been good, yet Harry no longer had the emotional capacity to keep reacting, feeling as hard as he had before.
Too many dead, too many attempts on his life, too much drama had a way of breaking someone from that bad habit.
Horcrux. He might be one. And if he was…
"They corrupt those they touch, anyone who dare draws near…"
Harry's steps echoed in the quiet corridor, Hogwarts remaining a ghost town, a hollow shell of what it had once been.
"…twisting good men to commit unspeakable acts."
He stopped, leaning against a wall, not knowing where he was going anyway. The Gryffindor common room would be empty, Ron and Hermione training, Neville and Ginny gone, Kaylens in the Potions lab…
"They can curse those that come into contact with them, while others…will do their best to kill."
Pulling out his wand, twisting it in hand to look at it, he knew he shared the same core of the monster responsible for all of this. It made a twisted kind of sense. The nightmare-visions, the monster's ability to speak to him…
"It explains how his persona, what he thought, desired, was connected so intimately to it. It was because it was a part of him."
Numbness washed over him in the dank hall, slowly making him feel sick. Everyone who had died around him, every person he'd cared for, and it really would have been all his fault. He was cursed. He cursed those around him. If what Dumbledore suspected was true…
The Headmaster had told him they didn't know yet, but to avoid repeating his mistakes in the past, he'd disclosed his suspicions. There was more research for him to do, more hunting. He'd said it didn't mean that Harry had to be destroyed, but it didn't mean that he didn't.
All it meant was that Voldemort had touched him, perhaps more deeply than they'd previously known. That was all.
His throat still tightened up. Looking out across the corridor, over the stairwell, the labyrinth that was Hogwarts stretched out before him. For once there was little movement. The portraits were subdued, stairs no longer changing, magicked flying letters nowhere in sight, for few too students occupied this enchanted place.
It was like the castle knew its world was at war, under threats the like it'd not seen before.
He felt like potentially life-altering news ought to come with an equally major event. He was rapidly learning that wasn't the case. Instead, news came, and then he was left to process it all as if it were just any other normal day.
Harry wasn't sure how long he stood there, but inevitably someone did come by. On the stairwells far below he saw a head of impossible gold, his mouth tightening grimly. The non-witch was making her way back to the dorms after Potions, no doubt. The fact that Snape had set her free just told him how long he'd been standing there.
Eventually she did reach him, arching an eyebrow curiously as she glanced around. "Enjoying the scenic route?" came her quiet inquiry.
Harry made no attempt to leave, but instead sullenly returned his gaze to the holly wood of his wand. "Something like that." A portrait alongside them stirred in the frame, an elderly man watching them almost forlornly.
Despite his silence, Kalliandra didn't leave. She just stood there, chewing on her lower lip. Harry noticed. It was almost awkward. Releasing a derisive breath in response to his own thoughts, he realized he had an easier time talking to her when someone was trying to kill them.
"So," she murmured gracelessly, clearly looking for something to say and gesturing towards his wand, "Snape's decided I'm getting a real wand."
Harry remained statute-like, but his green gaze did look up at her, a silent question in his expression.
Kaylens was brushing an errant strand of hair out of her eyes, the golden tendril having escaped the messy bun she'd pinned it back in, another rat bone put to creative use. "He wants to see if it'll help me draw for potions easier." Giving up on the misbehaving strand of hair, she sighed, "He didn't sound terribly optimistic."
"I hope it works." He meant it. He wanted her to live. He wanted her to not look ashen gray and sick every time she tried to function here.
Better yet, he wanted her to have a defense against Voldemort, and against him if she needed it. If Voldemort was truly inside of him…
Who knew what he might do.
Harry swallowed hard, just looking at his wand now, thinking. Could Voldemort possess him? He nearly had once. Harry still remembered shoving Kaylens violently against a corridor wall not far from here, forcibly extracting information from her mind with Legilimency, proving that Riddle could at least try to control him.
"Harry."
The loss of his surname was enough to send his cutting gaze back to her. Kaylens met it, her crystalline eyes still flickering over him with concern. Something in his gut twisted painfully to see that.
He wasn't used to it yet. He still didn't know what to do about it yet. He hadn't even decided if he was going to flee Hogwarts to get away from all of them or not. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Kaylens…he didn't want to accidentally hurt any of them. He'd also promised that he'd stop pushing everyone away. Yet somehow this situation seemed like it ought to nullify that previous agreement.
Harry didn't know what to do.
"You're worried about them, aren't you?" For a second he didn't know what she meant by them, but she was already clarifying. "Neville and Ginny?"
Abruptly he almost laughed. He'd been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he'd nearly forgotten he was sullenly standing here in an empty corridor, and that Kaylens would have no way of knowing why he was actually brooding. "Yeah," he admitted. "I am." He wasn't outright lying to her, but…
Somehow it felt dirty.
"That's not entirely it though."
Kaylens carefully moved to lean against the railing across from him, her pale fingers wrapping around it as if afraid of falling. "Okay," she murmured into the silence. Nothing more and nothing less was offered, just that single word, allowing him to talk if he wanted, and to remain silent if he did not.
Harry could have kissed her for that.
For the longest time neither of them spoke, just remaining there in silence. It was like she was afraid to leave him alone, and Harry was infinitely grateful that she did not. Finally…
"Dumbledore's back," his voice broke through the silence like a knife, grave, serious. "I just talked to him, and…do you know of horcruxes?" He waited, debating the merits of what he was doing. Ron wasn't here. Hermione wasn't here. She was and she was in the Order, so…
"Yeah," Kaylens was nodding, looking like she was trying to process a lot of new information, another strand of hair falling free of her loose bun. Brushing it aside with orange-tinged fingers, clearly the remnants of whatever potion's ingredient she had been working with, she spotted the slightly skeptical look he was shooting her. "Snape," she expounded, shrugging artlessly. "A potion's involved, so he mentioned them. Why? And what do you mean Dumbledore's back? I thought he was in the hospital?"
For a fleeting moment he ignored the question, instead asking, "He's teaching you about dark magic?"
She still nodded, both of her hands now holding onto the railing. "Yeah, we're at war so…that's pretty much all he's teaching me now." Pausing, she blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Well, that and healing potions."
"Ah." Harry didn't supply her with anything else. It made sense that a spy for the Order would know about dark magic.
Really though, they were all studying it at this point, so they could counter it. There was just so much of it that it was seriously hit and miss when it came to who knew what. There were times when he felt it was impossible to learn all of it. Death Eaters had had a lifetime to study it. All of them were just scrambling to catch up.
It was awhile before he again spoke, finally questioning, "So if you know what they are, you know what has to be done to them."
Kaylens was eyeing him enquiringly. "Yeah. They need destroyed. So what about them?"
Ah…that. "Well," he stated, abruptly casting a privacy charm mid-sentence so as to keep out nosy portraits, the nearest elderly one looking offended, "Dumbledore thinks I might be one."
The non-witch he'd taken to snogging tensed, almost imperceptively. The only way he'd even noticed was due to her sweater. Her collar bone was barely showing, and the way her muscles tensed for a moment around it, making it stand out more prominently…
He pulled his gaze away, grimacing at her. Kaylens, on the other hand, only frowned, eyeing him as if he'd recently hit his head. "You? How?" she posed, almost too calm. Raising her eyebrows, she shot a pointed look up and down his form. "In case you haven't noticed, you're not exactly a shoe or vase, Potter."
At that he actually snorted, nothing funny about the situation, but the fact that Kaylens was clearly trying to picture him as varying types of inanimate objects was.
The girl across from him was waiting though.
He drug in a cold breath, meeting her eyes. "Voldemort, when he killed my mom." That said… "Dumbledore thinks it might have been an accident."
Her lips parted in silent understanding. "Oh."
The privacy bubble surrounding them leant a blue cast to where they stood, Harry frowning. "Oh?" he repeated. "That's it?"
The look she shot him clearly conveyed her thoughts: she was silently questioning what reaction he'd expected. "Oh, that sucks?" she posed, trying again.
Harry had spent so long brooding on it alone that he was finding her lack of reaction to be somewhat vexing. "Why aren't you more…" he gestured at her in general, "worked up?" The fleeting thought that she didn't care if he got destroyed crossed his mind, but the flicker of carefully concealed worry that he caught in her eyes vanished it quickly.
"Honestly?" she replied, words far too quiet, "I don't know."
He just stared, hating himself for his next words. "If I am, this changes things." Everything in him hurt, right down to his throat. It had suddenly decided to barely work. "With…us."
Kalliandra's expression though…it just made it so much worse. Harry hadn't had to further clarify what he meant by things. "I disagree," she stated, almost coldly. "I'd say it doesn't matter."
Harry frowned. Only a meter and a half separated them, she leaning against the railing, he against the wall, but that small space suddenly seemed voluminous. "Beg my pardon," he dryly ground, "but how would it not matter? You could get killed, Kaylens. What if-"
"What if he possessed you and you attacked me?" Something in her eyes flashed. "Yeah Potter, already putting two and two together. That's what happened that night, isn't it?" Months ago, when Voldemort had gotten inside his head…she'd actually been being pleasant, and he-
He'd attacked her. He'd seen, first hand, what had happened to her and her eldest brother at the hands of a Death Eater.
Kaylens might not know everything about the wizarding world, but she was sharp.
Harry's entire jaw had drawn into an impossibly grim line. "Then you see what I mean."
"A bit, but you're the one that doesn't see what I mean," she countered heatedly. "Whatever's going on with you? You threw him out. You didn't actually hurt me. So if he possessed you, I'm pretty sure you could get rid of him again, living horcrux or not."
"You don't know that."
"I'm an optimist."
Before, when he'd asked her out, he'd told her it wasn't his decision to make, so he'd wanted her to know all the facts before she said yes or no. Now though…he wasn't sure.
The numbness he'd had at the knowledge, at learning what he possibly could be, was rapidly disappearing, being replaced by something else: a sickening twist in his chest and anger. "Even if that's the case, Kaylens, you're forgetting one little fact."
"That you're an idiot?" she suggested challengingly.
He half growled, "That horcruxes have to be destroyed if you want their owner dead. Now put two and two together. What's more important? Ridding the world of the most vile psychopath to ever live or me?"
She looked like she'd been slapped, her fingers gripping the railing so hard that her knuckles actually turned white. "First," she practically whispered, "you're working yourself up over something you're not even sure of yet. Second, even if that is true, do you seriously think Dumbledore won't think of another way?"
"If I am," he countered, not missing a beat, "that means I'm tainted. I'll curse everyone near me."
"I'm already tainted," she threw back. "Walking death, remember? Even you can't take credit for that."
The muscle inside his chest was pounding harder than it had in awhile. "I don't want to be the reason you wind up dead," he said very, very seriously.
"Last time I checked you were quite the opposite actually. You are ahead in that 'saving each other's life' tally we have going."
Harry wanted to grab her, to shake her, to make her see some kind of sense. Instead he stayed right where he was, leaning against the wall, green gaze glued to her golden one. It was all he could do to resist taking those three steps to her and-
He cut his thoughts off right there. That would not be productive.
Instead he folded his hands on top of his head, trying to not tear his own hair out. "I don't want to lose this, Kaylens. Okay? I just-"
"Are an idiot," she again supplied, shaking her head in argument so swiftly that the remains of her bun actually fell out. The rat bone that had been pinning it up clattered to the floor, rolling down the stairwell. "Don't you get it, Potter? A lot of us probably aren't going to make it through this war. No use getting worked up about things early, ruining the rest of the lives we all do have." Her hair had fallen down, cascading around her shoulders, annoyance in her tone, and Harry-
Harry still felt like his throat was tight. Hearing her say something like that…"You think we're going to lose." The statement came out, shock in every damn word.
"I think," she whispered hotly, "that it's a war, and that even when we do win, that a lot of people are still going to die."
Harry almost sputtered. "So much for you being an optimist."
She just smiled sadly back. "More like a realist."
"That's horrifying."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
His fist had deeply rooted itself in his own head of hair, his fingers tugging on the black strands. Harry watched her, just watched. She was breathing a little harder than he, her chest rising and falling in clear upset at him. Despite this she seemed unbelievably calm given that he was standing across from her, talking through whether or not to end things between them, all because he might be a horcrux.
He didn't know what to say.
She, apparently, did though. "I told you, Potter," she whispered, a little less furiously, "I'm with you, whatever happens." Something determined shone in her gaze, Harry…
He was not sure how to handle any of this.
Defeated, he dropped his hands to his sides. "I don't-I don't know what to say," he admitted.
Kaylens just closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. "How about that you didn't leave me, even though you knew exactly what I was, and what that meant for my lovely life expectancy, so somewhere in that thick skull of yours you can grasp why I wouldn't do that to you?"
The portraits nearby were stirring, watching the two of them with interest; it was probably the most interesting thing they'd seen in days, even if they couldn't hear a word of it.
His stomach twisted. She was right; he was being an idiot. And still…the thought of something happening to her, Ron, Hermione, or to anyone because of him…
Harry really, really wanted to forget. He wanted to forget what they'd just been talking about. He wanted to forget that he'd just tried to mess this thing with her up. He wanted to forget the reminder that her life was likely to get cut as short as his. But more than anything he wanted to forget everything that Dumbledore had told him. He wanted to forget that he now had a death sentence hanging over him, one larger than the one he'd already had, because the prophecy had been clear on that point.
It was either him or Voldemort, and Trelawney's words twistedly made a whole lost more sense now.
Watching her, only a cavernous meter and a half separating them, he found his pulse quickening, stomach and chest twisting as his gaze roamed over her lithe form. The way her ill-fitting sweater showcased her collarbone, thick tendrils of hair cascading down, brushing against it…
Very little about Kaylens was ever nervous, but right now she looked like a strong wind could blow her over, her golden gaze conflicted. She hadn't moved, still leaning with her back against the railing, her fingers tight around it, gnawing on her lower lip. The one person in the entire castle that actually understood what he was going through, without him having to explain it, looked upset.
He'd nearly thrown her away, because he was an idiot.
Harry wanted to drag Kaylens into an unoccupied room and forget about all of it with her. "Can we just-"
"Please," she entreated, his unfinished question already answered for him. "Where do you-"
"Dorms." It was his turn to finish a sentence. "No one's in half of them anyway."
Still, they didn't move. Harry was breathing hard, far harder than the exertion of a single conversation ought to have warranted. Staring at her, knowing full well what he needed, what he wanted from her, he found he still couldn't move, even with the cold corridor air pressing around him.
"I'm sorry," he managed roughly, meaning it.
Kaylens' voice was far quieter than he was used to, her brow furrowing as she seriously whispered, "Prove it."
"Done." The promise required no thought.
He'd figure out how to tell Ron, Hermione, and Luna later. For now…
Moving was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, given that part of him still wanted to leave the castle and never look soon as he did though it only took him three steps. Three steps to reach her. Three steps to find himself right in front of her. Kaylens had gone very, very still, Harry slowly, carefully dropping his hands onto the wooden rail on either side of her, his grip curling around the support.
Not touching her, not ready, too many things still messing up his head, Harry could only meet her gaze. "I am," he lowly ground, "sorry." Brow furrowing, practically feeling her warmth due to how close she was, he grimaced.
Last year she'd been right. He was bad at this. He'd never exactly had time or opportunity for girls though. Hell, he still didn't, but Kaylen was in the Order and somehow that made this okay.
He didn't have to hide everything from her. If he'd had to he wouldn't have been able to even entertain this.
Once again he was so damn close that he could see the flecks of brown and green in her irises, Kaylens chest nearly brushing his as she breathed. Saying not a word, he was struck by how utterly still she was, everything hanging in a precarious balance.
"I really," he pressed, "am." He'd say it again if he had to.
He didn't.
In the empty, cavernous corridor of the fifth floor at Hogwarts, Kaylens slid her hand slowly along the wooden rail, finding his.
And then Harry found her mouth.
Several minutes later found him in Gryffindor tower, in the abandoned seventh year boys' dorm with her. Hands in her hair, hers in his, he'd kicked the door to the dorms shut. He hadn't stopped kissing her since the stairwell, Kaylen's fingers already tugging up at his shirt.
He'd grabbed onto her impossibly tangled hair, almost uncaring if he hurt her for a second, kissing her hard before pulling away only long enough to struggle out of the garment she was finding offensive. It was discarded quicker than a Snitch could fly, Harry already snaring his arm back around her waist, tugging her hips roughly against his, at the same time pressing her spine to the mahogany door.
Kaylens fingers had found his chest, her fingertips tracing a wicked path along his bare skin, sliding to his arm, squeezing his bicep...
An unbidden growl escaped him, Harry's mouth dropping to that exposed collarbone, the one that had been taunting him ever since she'd shown up at Hogwarts. None of her sweaters seemed to fit properly. Her collarbone, her neck, the feel of her skin beneath his mouth while his strong hand slid up her front, finding her breast through her clothing…the sound she made was enough to awaken purely carnal things in him.
Things in him were hardening, squirming and damn if he didn't want to satiate them.
Hands releasing her only to grab onto the bottom of her sweater, he didn't stop kissing her as he drug the material up, it getting tangled around her head, arms…for a moment she was actually stuck in it.
Her quiet laugh against his lips sent his own trembling in amusement, her sweater not even fully removed, but just hanging off one of her arms, it at least no longer in his way.
Harry's left hand was firmly against the small of her back, his right tracing against the smooth skin of her abdomen. Heart pounding, unable to stop himself it slid up, sliding beneath her bra, Harry acutely aware that he was moving fast, aware that he'd never done any of this before, aware that he'd been wanting to do this to her for months, and equally damn aware that neither of them might be alive if they waited for several more.
He'd been trying to dump her not half an hour ago.
The stubborn non-witch hadn't let him. Harry found himself kissing her harder for that. Until now…he hadn't realized…
That same non-witch was now struggling with his belt, something in him practically dying in a good way. Her mouth was on his neck now, Harry's sliding one of her bra straps off, still trying to get rid of the other when what they were doing struck him, and struck him hard.
With a brush of her fingers Kaylens had his pants button undone.
Harry stopped her, abruptly snaring her hand in his right where it was, by his zipper. He made no attempt to actually move it, breathing hard against her, attempting to regain enough air to actually talk. From the way her lips had parted, gasping in tandem, he was aware they both needed this. Alarms were still going off in his mind, warning him to go slower. "Kaylens," he inhaled, "what are we-"
"Haven't," she whispered breathlessly, honestly, "the slightest." Her hands remained frozen on him, one in his grip, the other clutching against his side.
Harry stood there, breathless, shirtless, pants undone with a shirtless, almost braless non-witch that had the ability to make him want things he'd not ever entertained before.
Like her.
"Okay," he forced, tone raspier than he remembered, "we…do this," own hand already sliding down, finding the side of her thigh, "but we stop-"
"At some point…" Her mouth was teasing against his, the formation of each word a glorious torture. "Before we…"
"Yeah," he ground out, already pressing his mouth to hers, brusquely releasing her fingers and grabbing back onto other parts of her. There was nothing gentle about this. Her mouth, her neck, her breasts…it was all a glorious way for them both to forget everything.
Everything but their barely verbalized agreement, Harry's fingers sliding up her leg, her Hogwarts skirt bunching and rising beneath his grip. Harry wouldn't…they wouldn't do everything, but…
It was enough. Enough to leave him fumbling as he learned, laughing against her lips as they stumbled, groaning in a damn good way as they both finally got it right, exhausted yet still wanting more. Harry found himself in an empty dorm, Kaylens somehow perched on top of a dresser, he in front of her, mouths still on one another's, only now…their lips moved far more slowly, less roughly, less urgently.
Now Harry kissed her because he wanted to, his urges for now satisfied, expect the ever constant one to keep her close. Horcrux or not, what the hell had he been thinking?
Harry Potter's hand slid through his girlfriend's tangled hair, and in that moment everything around him was manageable. He liked her. She liked him. And that, in a wizarding world on fire, was at least simple.
It was a long time before either of them realized they'd lost his belt.
ECOTS
The castle's cool air whispered against her bare skin, Kally closing her eyes as she kissed him, things in her shaken by what had just transpired. For a moment she'd been able to forget what Potter had told her in that cold corridor, that he could be a horcrux, that he might need destroyed…
Instinctively her fingers tightened onto him, her heart fluttering furiously. That was not going to happen, even if she was terrified of it.
Against her lips she felt his mouth slowing, both of them now catching their breath. "Kal-" Potter practically whispered, "ee-" sounding it out, "ahn-dra." He murmured each syllable against her, as if trying out her name, phonetically, for the first time.
To her recollection he'd never called her by her full name.
Given their current state of partial disrobing, she couldn't help it: a smirk teased her lips, a light laugh escaping her.
Potter's chest rumbled slightly in response, his hands now loosening, tightening methodically along her sides. "That was…" he managed, trailing off.
"Yeah…" came her equally breathless affirmation. Perched on top of a waist-high dresser, he still pressed against her in an unbelievably agreeable way. They hadn't….done everything. They'd stopped, for obvious reasons. But what they had done…
Gods she felt close to him right now.
His large hand had abandoned her waist, sliding into her hair. Her own arms, loosely looped around his neck, moved, her hands finding his shoulders.
Beneath her hands she felt the thick scar tissue covering his right shoulder, the remnants of the werewolf's claws, when Remus had transformed on them months back at Grimmauld. Kally's fingertips lightly traced along the healed tissue, Potter's form shuddering beneath her touch ever-so-slightly. "You got this…for me," she murmured, her hands going very still, golden eyes flickering to his. "You didn't even like me then, and still…" trailing off, she wasn't certain of what to say. He'd tossed her bodily down the stairs, and it hadn't been to try to off her.
Instead he'd been throwing her out of the way, since Remus' werewolf form had decided to leap straight at them.
"Rather," Potter lowly confirmed, a subtle trace of dark amusement infiltrating his tone, "despised you, actually. Still couldn't stomach the idea of you being hurt."
Shivering slightly, just the feel of his hands on her, she found formulating even a single syllable to be difficult. "Why?" Kally's gaze flickered over his, silent question in them.
Potter ignored the inquiry with only a slight twitch of his mouth, remaining silent for a long while. His malachite eyes merely watched her, his hand roaming through her hair, as if trying to memorize every detail.
He was rather infuriating in that way.
Kally somehow didn't mind.
"You know," he finally told, "for the longest time my mum couldn't stand my dad. Thought he was quite the ass." Something in his tone betrayed a dark, grave humor.
Kally inclined a golden eyebrow in seeming amusement. "Oh?"
"Yeah," he confirmed, smirking ever-so-slightly, his hand sliding to the base of her neck. "He won her over though." Drumming his fingers gently against her spine, his smirk only grew, as if smugly making a subtle point.
She released a slightly amused breath, eyes fluttering closed at the agreeable touch. "Mmm, I'm sure," she intoned wryly. "Probably just as charming as you at first."
A low rumble shook him, his free hand suddenly tightening around her waist. "Us Potters, we make slow plays."
The way his hand flexed against her side, almost rhythmically… "Well," she murmured, "seven months is a lot faster than years." She'd first met him over the summer, in Diagon. It hadn't gone well, and then…
Then this had happened.
Abruptly his hand abandoned her hair, both his hands on her waist, pulling her against him, slowly lowering her off the dresser and to the floor. Her toes somehow still felt the cold stone through her socks, her breath hitching for the slightest of seconds.
Potter pressed closer, a welcome response to the sudden cold. "Hardly improvement," he muttered, smirk still there. "Had I met you as a first year, trust me, you'd have hated me."
She was half inclined to not believe him on that. The whole premise of them despising one another had been a gross misunderstanding. "Had I met you as a first year," she quietly countered, an amused smile touching her face, "I'd have known more about the wizarding world, and you wouldn't have been as paranoid." Shooting him a pointed look, she added, "Ergo, no Headmaster office brawls."
For a second he looked slightly horrified, making a disgruntled sound. "So I could have been doing this," he demanded incredulously, hands tightening pointedly on her, "for years?" Potter's face dropped back down to hers in an instant, not claiming her lips, but simply resting them against her own. "Damn, eleven year old me is pissed."
She laughed quietly, feeling his hands tightening further on her. Her own slid from his shoulders, finding his chest, her palms laying flat against his bare skin. "He'll get over it," she chided, still slightly distracted. What they'd been doing together…she now understood why wizards invoked the name of Merlin so often.
Potter's mouth had begun to move against hers once more, Kally not minding. He had the maddening effect of making her want more, her palms sliding down his pectorals-
The smooth, hard and healthy feel of his chest beneath her hands suddenly struck her, Kally pulling away ever-so-slightly to regard it. Potter made an upset sound at her breaking the kiss, but she merely wet her lips, eyes flickering over him, studying him. Whereas his shoulder bore the prominent scarring of claws, werewolf wounds always slow to heal, always leaving behind rough, mutilated scar tissue, his chest remained remarkably unmarked.
Werewolves had torn it to shreds on Halloween. In the forest, outside of Hogsmeade, she'd felt the wounds beneath his shirt. His entire front should be scarred to high hell.
It was as if her fingertips no longer belonged to her, needing to touch, tracing along his skin. "How are you…" she breathed, looking up into his green gaze, pressing, "How are you not scarred from those werewolves in Hogsmeade? You were from Remus, but…" Trailing off, she wasn't sure how to finish that.
It was as if he had healed, unnaturally well.
In the dimly lit and abandoned seventh year boys' dormitories, she watched him. Something in his gaze had changed, his hands rising to cover where her own rested against his chest, his fingers wrapping firmly around hers. "I honestly have no idea," he lowly admitted. "Not that I'm complaining."
Her lips twitched subtly. "And you thought I was?" Inclining an eyebrow, somewhat challengingly, she saw his jaw turn with his own humor.
"Not to sound cocky," he smugly challenged, "but I'm pretty sure you were doing the opposite of that."
She laughed quietly. She couldn't help it. "Bit presumptuous," she teased. "You also failed at not sounding entirely cocky."
Potter's thumbs rubbed against the backs of her hands, his gaze penetrating. "Yeah well, I have ways to convince you to forgive me for the lapse."
"Oh I'm sure." Sarcasm practically bled from each uttered syllable, her lips twitching. Still, for a long moment they both remained there, quietly watching one another. Neither was fully dressed, Kally positioned between Potter and the dresser, their hands intertwined. The humor that had been in Potter's gaze, for but a second, was slowly dissipating, being replaced with something she couldn't quite identify.
It was him who finally broke the penetrating silence. "Things have been…different, since Hogsmeade," he finally relayed, the hard part of his throat rising and falling in a hard swallow. "I'm healing quicker. I haven't had to use my glasses since..."
Squeezing his hands back, she pointed out, "I'd think you were the one with unicorn blood, if I didn't know better." It allowed faster healing. If it wasn't for the unicorn blood in her veins, she'd have already been dead several times over already.
There was a reason a Reach's mutation was fatal.
She forced the thought away. Potter was the one healing unnaturally now, and that…was strange.
"Yeah well….just wish I knew why," he was muttering, shaking his head.
Kally couldn't help it. She inclined an eyebrow, confused. "You're complaining about healing faster?"
Potter met her gaze, his brow furrowing. "In my experience," he told her, a shadow crossing his expression, "thinks like this…gifts of unknown origin, they're rarely good."
Considering that, considering how fast her heart was still beating given his proximity, she let out a long, slow breath, chastising, "Yeah well, if it helps keep you alive…"
For a second he said nothing, the dorm utterly silent, and then his chest rumbled. "You know," he muttered, seriousness leaving his voice, "if I didn't know better I'd think you wanted to keep me around."
Kally instantly pulled back and shot him a glare, only for him to silence her, his mouth already pressing roughly to hers. She still managed to make an irritated sound, getting her point across.
Potter just ignored it, squeezing then releasing her hands, tugging her entire body close again. She was pressing against things that acutely reminded her of what they'd just been doing.
Harry's other hand was rising, once more sliding into her tangled hair, his other grip sliding down her lower back as he pressed her firmly against the dresser, half driving the breath from her.
Her own hands had slid down to his hips, her heart pounding furiously. The way his taut muscles covered his abdominals…she wasn't certain she'd be able to stop this time if he continued, but she was still utterly incapable of pulling away. One of his hands reclaimed her breast, a moan escaping her as she was caught off guard.
Kally's fingers slid to where his pants had remained unbuttoned, a groan escaping him now, Kally murmuring in agreement-
What they were again doing struck her, Potter's entire musculature stiffening as it apparently struck him as well.
Both of them abruptly broke away, suddenly, Kally actually thudding against the dresser. Potter stood there, looking like he'd recently seen a ghost, yet their hands were still very much on one another. Breathing hard, watching him do the same, her chest felt like it was twisting, skipping.
Potter regained some common sense first, and his rough hand slid slowly, carefully to her waist, as if he couldn't trust himself to let it move any faster, lest it stop obeying him. The sound of his exerted breaths seemed shockingly loud in the otherwise empty room.
One of them needed to talk, and from the way he was looking at her she doubted it'd be him.
"So," she managed breathlessly, the act of speech a serious feat, "what now?"
Potter's malachite gaze bored into hers, as if unsure. It took him a few tries of opening and closing his mouth before he got out something resembling speech. Finally…"Don't know," he half croaked, coughing and gathering his senses. "I never got past that whole 'snogging you senseless and into forgetting what a prat I am' part."
Now it was her turn to open her mouth, momentarily speechless. "That was your plan?"
Harry's lips twitched. "Worked didn't it?"
Once more she found herself making a disgruntled sound at Potter. "This self-deprecating, pushing people away thing," she dryly mused, "is going to be an ongoing thing with you isn't it?"
"Oh definitely," he confirmed. "I practically took a course in the subject."
She narrowed her eyes and outright glared at him.
He kindly snorted in response. "Like that," he muttered, tugging her close once more, brow dropping against hers, "intimidates me."
A moment later his mouth was again upon hers, the pressure far lighter than it had been before. Potter's hands were also determinedly remaining just on her waist. Kally was half torn between kicking him in the shin, and enjoying it.
Finally she relaxed, just…reveling whatever this twistedly weird thing between them was.
It was a long while before Potter's exploration of her mouth hesitated, his lips pausing to mumble, "Hate to suggest this, but we should probably…" His light gaze opened, as did hers. She found him looking her up and down pointedly. He didn't have to finish that statement. They needed to get dressed.
Kally released an amused breath, it contagious.
Potter's chest rumbled ever so slightly, before his head shook against hers. "Seriously Kaylens," he half-growled, "I'm a male over the age of twelve. If you don't get dressed I can't be held responsible for trying to ravish you."
That was all it took for them to both grin, Harry releasing her as if it were a seriously difficult task, stepping back and wandlessly tossing her shirt back at her. She caught it deftly, a light laugh escaping her.
He drug a hand through his messy hair, half-groaning. "I'm going to kick myself later for giving you clothes."
Widening her eyes in amusement, squirming back into her sweater, she countered, "I could just do it for you."
Potter's hand froze on his recently buttoned pants, gaping at her. "Did you just volunteer to kick me?"
Kally just smiled innocently, scanning the dormitory floor for her shoes. She quite literally had no idea where they'd gone. There was this gloriously blurred time frame from when they'd entered the room, verbalized an agreement of sorts on what they were actually doing, and when she'd wound up perched atop the dresser.
Somewhere in that blurred time frame she'd lost her shoes.
"Yeah," she confirmed, slightly distracted. "Potter have you seen-"
"My belt?" he asked at the same time.
Kally shot him a look, a slightly guilty expression crossing her face. "I honestly have no idea where that went," she admitted.
Potter looked somewhat frozen for a second, like a deer in headlights. "What?" he repeated, as if not understanding the question.
"I have no idea," she repeated, frowning, "where your belt went." Seeing the look he shot her, she gestured at him. "At least you still have shoes." Lifting her foot and wiggling her socked toes at him for emphasis, it struck her how ridiculous this was.
Potter just shot her a glare now, withdrawing his wand and muttering, "Accio belt!" His hand was raised, as if waiting to catch something, but-
Nothing came.
Kally actually tilted her head curiously, glancing around the room as if waiting for something to magically appear. Nothing did. Smile teasing her lips, she innocently questioned, "Problems, Potter?"
The wizard actually growled at her.
ECOTS
It took Harry several more tries of trying to summon his belt back before he finally gave up, dropping morosely onto one of the beds. "If I can't even summon something in the same room," he groaned, "I'm doomed." The good mood he'd briefly managed to have, Kaylens having distracted the hell out of him, was rapidly vanishing.
He'd once summoned a broom from across the Hogwarts grounds, so that he could face down a fire breathing dragon.
And now he couldn't even summon his own belt?
Kaylens hadn't moved, staying right where she was, drumming her fingers on the dresser. "Don't we have house elves that take things?" she questioned, as if brainstorming. "Or…" She abruptly trailed off, paling slightly.
House elves.
Harry suddenly felt rather sick. "You don't think…"
"I sure as hell hope not."
Now he had a whole new, unpleasant reason to groan. House elves could appear and disappear anywhere within Hogwarts, and they were known to clean the dorms. One might have shown up while they were snogging amongst…other things.
If Harry were honest, Voldemort himself could have shown up and he wouldn't have noticed until he'd been Kedavra-ed into the afterlife.
"I really," he stated slowly, sounding slightly horrified, "hope that it was Dobby." He was fairly certain that Dobby wouldn't rat him out to the Professors, or worse, Hermione. If his friend caught wind that he'd been feeling up Kaylens in an abandoned dorm….
Kaylens made a slightly upset sound. "Who is Dobby?" She sounded half afraid of the answer.
Harry drug his hand though his hair again, grabbing and tugging at it. "A house elf. He's a friend." Kaylens' lips had parted in a slight 'ah' of understanding, Harry momentarily distracted by that.
He couldn't help it. He really liked her lips.
And then, despite the many things going through his head, he remembered what he'd been trying to forget.
He could be a horcrux.
Going silent, he didn't bother to talk again. He'd somehow oscillated from considering leaving Hogwarts to protect everyone to snogging Kaylens and having no intention of stopping. He needed to figure out what he was going to do.
Something of his thoughts must have shown, given that Kaylens had gone very quiet, going very still. Looking up, he found her silently observing him chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. He didn't have to ask if what they'd been doing was okay. He already knew it was. What he didn't know…was what she was thinking.
When she did speak again, it was surprising.
"Tell me, Potter. Have you ever met a thestral?"
ECOTS
Not twenty minutes later Harry found himself outside with a new belt that he'd transfigured out of a stick, shoes crunching in the thick snow, Kaylens dragging him by the sleeve towards the lake and the Forbidden Forest.
Had Harry's average, daily activities not recently involved frequent werewolf attacks, nightly attacks on his mind by Voldemort, repeat simulated attacks in the Room of Requirement (instigated by a frighteningly enthusiastic Professor McGonagall), the knowledge that a plague was ravaging the Muggle world with a hundred percent kill rate and the fact that he was quite possibly a horcrux, he might have been concerned about where she was navigating him to at twilight.
As it was, accromantulas no longer seemed that frightening.
Apparently facing giant, man-eating spiders at dusk didn't bother Kaylens either. She'd been so eager to get outside to see a particular thestral that he'd barely had time to grab thicker cloaks and hats from his actual dorm before she'd bodily hauled him out of the common room. She hadn't even bothered to run to her own dorm to change.
As it was, Kaylens was clad in one of his cloaks. It was oversized and hung loosely around her, only her fingertips poking out of the sleeves.
It was actually rather cute.
"What do you mean you flew one?"
Her incredulous inquiry was shot towards him, along with a sidelong look that clearly questioned his sanity. Harry shrugged, icy wind gusting past and ruffling their robes. "We didn't have another way to get to the Ministry at night, so…they seemed like a good idea." He might have mentioned that he and the other new Order members had flown on thestrals the previous year. He hadn't gone into details though.
Though apparently dropping casual comments about flying thestrals to the Ministry warranted them. "What do you meant at night?"
A gust of wind sent his hood flying down, Harry dragging a hand over his head to reclaim it. "Voldemort," he explained. "We snuck into the Ministry to try to stop him."
She stopped so fast that she actually skidded on the ice, almost falling. Harry barely managed to grab her in time. "Snuck? You mean you broke into the Ministry?"
The corner of his mouth quirked, something strained in it. "Well, yeah."
The non-witch actually sputtered at him for a second, Harry offering nothing else. He shouldn't have even brought it up, but when she'd been talking about thestrals on the way down to the grounds he'd let it slip.
Green gaze studying her, grimacing, it looked like Kaylens wanted to say something else, but whatever it was…
She clearly thought better of it, sucking in a quick breath before reclaiming his sleeve, resuming her attempts to lead him across the grounds. Only this time she did it in silence, her expression inscrutable.
Somehow she must have noticed, realized that talking about that night was the last thing he wanted to do.
Damn if she wasn't observant. He was grateful for it. After all, he highly doubted that Sirius would have wanted to be a mood killer in the afterlife.
The blizzard had died down, snow no longer even falling, but it was still freezing. Hell, his breath was actually misting in front of his face, crystallizing the second it hit the icy air.
Kaylens, on the other hand, seemed impervious to it, but as they walked Harry couldn't help but notice that she looked unbelievably pale, despite the thick robes cloaking her. That seemed to be her normal state as of late. Odd, given when he'd met her, before she'd started 'drawing' with semi-regular frequency and messing up her red blood cell count, she'd been fairly tan.
That couldn't be good for temperature regulation.
Harry rooted his feet in the ground, giving her a sharp tug back. Kaylens thudded against his chest with an oomph, his only response to smirk. "One second," he told, tapping her robes with his wand and muttering a warming charm. Repeating the same thing on himself, the flood of heat against the January chill was welcome.
Judging from the way her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers curling against his thick robes, it seemed welcome to her too. Any interest she'd seemed to have in him continuing his story had vanished. "Potter," she murmured, "you are ridiculously useful."
"Consider it a perk," he affirmed, tugging his hood up over her head a bit more firmly.
"Mmm," she intoned, "and here I thought my only perk was the borrowed wardrobe." A coy smile teased her lips as she eyed the oversized robes dwarfing her pointedly.
He outright snorted. "You were the one in too much of a hurry to bother heading back to your own dorm to change. Couldn't exactly let you wander off out here and freeze to death." Finding her frozen corpse would seriously dampen his mood. Harry then paused, considering something else. "And what do you mean only perk?" He could think of several perks he'd given her just that afternoon that had nothing to do with her wearing his clothes.
Kaylens' countenance was inscrutable, the non-witch merely blinking at him. "Well, maybe not only."
Now it was Harry's turn to make an indecipherably skeptical sound.
Her only response was to squirm away from his grip, renewing her grip on his sleeve as she resumed their unrelenting trek towards the Forbidden Forest. He went willingly. Harry didn't know what came next but…he was glad for the distraction she was clearly keen on providing him today.
Despite everything, despite the utterly sick twisting in his stomach at the information Dumbledore had relayed, this afternoon and evening were somehow still good.
It was because of her.
It was almost comical, how she so determinedly tugged him along after her. Harry snared her hand with his, grateful for the feel of her fingers between his own. There had been several times where he'd thought he wouldn't get that sensation again.
For some reason he found himself grinning. That grin only grew as they reached the lake, walking alongside it, Kaylens periodically stooping down to snare a smooth looking rock, tossing it out onto the lake and sending it skipping across the smooth, frigid looking surface, without even slowing their pace.
Each time she did this the Giant Squid would lift a lazy tentacle, either batting the stone back or outright catching it, before tossing it back. Before he knew it he and Kaylens were taking turns trying to catch the squid-thrown-stones.
"Out of curiosity," he questioned, having to jump up to snare an over tossed stone, "when did you tame the Giant Squid?"
Kaylens had run up ahead, her attention clearly drawn to a smooth looking, silvery rock. "I didn't. He's just naturally easier to get along with than certain grumpy Gryffindor six years prone to spying on girls in Knockturn Alley." Tossing a coy look back over her shoulder, she slyly added, "You wouldn't know anyone like that, would you?"
Harry growled, Kaylens just smiling wider and shrugging. A lock of her golden hair escaped from beneath his hood, fluttering around in the light winter breeze. "I used to come out and skip stones with him for hours. When you don't talk to your housemates, can't do magic, and don't actually understand your classes, there's not much else to do around here."
With that she'd picked up the silvery stone, the thing practically iridescent in the setting sunlight. She tossed it out, the reddish-pink twilight reflecting off it, the squid catching it-
The squid appeared to look at the stone for a second, before firmly wrapping its suckered tentacle around it and yanking it beneath the water, as if pleased with the offering.
"Hey!" Kaylens shouted, literally running to the edge of the lake and stomping her foot. "I actually wanted that one back!"
Watching this, he actually laughed, the surface of the lake once again going still. "I don't think he's inclined to oblige there, Kally."
Now it was Kaylens turn to growl, only she stopped mid-sound and turned, looking at him quizzically. "You called me Kally." She sounded slightly stunned.
Harry shrugged. "Yeah well, there's a point when you've seen each other half-naked that you really ought to start trying first names."
Now she just looked slightly horrified. "Gods, you're going to expect me to start calling you, Harry, aren't you?"
Being in the forgiving mood he was, he just waggled his eyebrows at her.
A very loud groan, loud enough to cut across the grounds and practically echo was her response. "Merlin Potter, that's just cruel."
Once again he waggled his eyebrows.
Kaylens swore something under her breath and whorled around, continuing her hike towards the forest. She hadn't been quick enough though. She had been smiling, and he had seen it.
Harry couldn't help it: he smirked.
Several minutes later found them at the threshold of the Forbidden Forest, standing at the very edge of the grounds, the shadows of the towering trees canopy crawling across the snowy ground towards them. They didn't venture inside, merely hovering at the threshold where Hogwarts' grounds ended and the nightmarish woods began.
Kaylens had cupped her hands together, forming a type of hollow circle with her palms. Both of her thumbs were bent up, pressing side-by-side, a tiny gap present between them.
Then she placed her lips to them and blew into her hands, a hollow, haunting, high-pitched sound radiating out across the grounds and into the darkened woods. It was as if an owl's hooting had been crossed with a train whistle.
Harry merely stared at her, watching her oversized sleeves flap in the breeze. "Where," he questioned, "did you learn to do that?"
Lifting her lips from her thumbs, Kaylens' gaze remained fixated out into the forest. She'd stopped blowing, but still the haunting sound echoed out into the approaching night. Not once did she glance back at him, something almost serene shadowing her features for a moment.
"My brother."
An errant strand of golden hair escaped the confines of her hood, drifting in the breeze, Harry only able to watch as her two words lingered upon the air.
Her brothers were both dead. Harry had seen exactly how within her mind, and what he'd seen…
Hadn't been good.
Swallowing, he simply remained. He stood there, alongside her, not saying a word. He knew better than to rush someone speaking of the dead.
So many of their conversations oscillated between sarcasm, something enjoyable, and an utter sense of loss…
Harry shifted where he stood, quietly watching her. A long time passed in companionable silence. Finally, when she did again speak, she sounded strained. "I can't whistle." A bitter, sadly amused note lingered in her intonations. She shook her head suddenly, his hood slipping from her head, falling around her shoulders in the thick cold. It was as if she didn't notice. "Apparently it's a dominant genetic trait to be able to form your lips and tongue the right way, so you can whistle, but…I can't. Mine don't work right. So Josh taught me this." Lifting her hands in quiet explanation, she fell silent.
Harry grimaced, hearing the ache in her voice. It was only the second time that he'd heard her speak of her family, and the familiarity to his own voice when he spoke of Sirius was startling.
He didn't like hearing her sound like that. Searching for something, anything to say, he finally settled on, "Well, for what it's worth Kaylens, I think your lips and tongue work just fine. Great even."
Harry's green gaze lingered on her, watching her turn towards him, her eyes widening in slightly amused shock. Her lips parted and closed several times, before she got out, "You're incorrigible."
"And here I was going for comic relief."
Crystalline eyes looked back into his, the reddish, shadowy cast of the setting sun touching her skin. "It worked," she laughed breathlessly, looking down at her hands helplessly. "Thank you."
He forced a smirk. "Hey, anytime you want me to remind you of my appreciation for that mouth of yours, just let me know. Happy to oblige or better yet, demonstrate."
Kaylens swatted at him, Harry barely dodging. It led to a series of him backing away, staying just out of her reach as he dodged around the trees at the threshold of the forest, chuckling as she wasn't quite ever able to catch him.
He ducked out of sight, around a tree, catching her as she bolted around it in hot pursuit. He'd snared his arm around her waist, dragging her against him in the woods, her squeak of startlement only making him grin.
It explained how he wound up kissing her yet again, her back somehow pressed against the iced-over bark of an ancient tree, her golden hair getting caught in it and neither of them caring. Harry merely slid his hand along the side of her face, appreciating every sodding second of this. Being carefree, enjoying life, even for a moment…
It was like it wasn't his life, for the moment.
He didn't stop kissing her, out there on the cold grounds, until something large and powerful nudged his shoulder. Grip still alongside Kaylen's head, his fingers flexing against the rough bark of the aged oak, he cracked his gaze in irritation.
What he found staring back at him were the dark eyes of a thestral, one that he swore to things unholy looked like a father assessing his kid's potential suitor.
"Harry," Kaylens breathed from between them, "meet Silverthorne."
The thestral huffed, its breath misting out of its nose like actual steam.
Harry considered the merits of having a thestral seriously pissed at him, given their classification as extremely dangerous and XXXX on the Ministry's scale of creatures, but couldn't find it in himself to get worked up about it. Not when he was enjoying himself so much. "I think," he dryly said, "he likes me."
The thestral made an angry sound, leathery wings rustling as if irritated, Kaylens actually laughing. It was like music to his ears, Harry realizing it was the first full, real laugh he'd ever heard out of her.
The non-witch he'd taken to snogging was definitely insane.
It took the better part of an hour, Kaylens cooing at the creature – and he even liked thestrals – before it had slowly warmed up to him. And by warmed up to him, he meant it had stopped shoving its reptilian-like head at him as if trying to bully him away from Kalliandra.
"So," he stated casually, making no sudden movements from where he leant against a tree, "I can only assume Hagrid was somehow involved in this?"
The thestral stomped its front two feet, as if recognizing the name. Kaylens merely patted Silverthrone's head, rubbing her face against his snout. "Naturally," she replied, smiling. "He's the one with the ferret stash."
At the word 'ferret' the thestral jerked its head up, looking suddenly interested. Kally merely laughed again. "I'm sorry I don't have any for you," she apologized, sounding like she meant it. Harry eyed her and made mental notes of how to identify her real apologies from her sarcastic ones. "But I did bring…" she was rooting around in his borrowed cold-weather robe, bringing out an apple. "Here. How's-"
She didn't even have a chance to finish her question, the thestral having already used its extraordinarily sharp teeth to snag it right out of her hand, barely missing taking her fingers with it. Kaylens actually blinked, startled. "Well I guess that answers that then?"
Harry snorted. "I think," he dryly told her, "you better bring a ferret for him next time." Stopping, thinking that one over, he added, "Is this the one with species identification issues that Luna mentioned?"
Kally nodded, running a hand through her long, golden hair. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure he thinks he's a hippogriff."
Silverthorne made a loud slurping sound, the entire apple disappearing in one more bite with a loud crunch.
It immediately started shoving its reptilian-like head at Kally's robes, sticking its snout fully into her pockets as if searching for more hidden goodies. It was so intent on its mission that it was nearly knocking her over, Kaylens having to literally wrap her arms around its neck to avoid being tossed to the ground.
Now it was Harry's turn to laugh.
Kaylens just grinned at him, burying her face against the thestral's pathetically tiny mane.
Harry could really get used to this.
And that was when the pounding of feet broke through their temporary reverie from the rest of the world, Ron running up and looking far too winded, far too serious to be heralding anything good.
"Harry," he panted, holding up a hand, asking for a second to catch his breath. "Dumbledore…he needs all of us back."
In the bitter January cold many, many of the things he'd been trying to forget about, just temporarily, came flooding back. A feeling of dread washed over him, his hands tensing. "What for?"
Ron just grimaced, his best friend's blue gaze shifting from him to where Kaylens stood, frowning at the sight of her being frisked down by a thestral searching for treats. "Fred and George are here. They're sending another team into Dublin to go after Ginny and the rest of that lot."
Ginny. Neville.
Harry grimaced, swallowing hard. Suddenly the bark digging into his back began to hurt. "Still no word then." It wasn't a question, and Ron didn't answer. His expression said enough. It'd been over a week, and the odds of them still being alive were growing slimmer by the day.
He'd been desperately hoping that they were somehow alright, or that someone might have heard from them that afternoon.
"Why are they sending in another team then?" Kaylens' quiet question drifted towards them, the non-witch had given up fussing with the thestral, whose head was now firmly encased in one of her – no his - cloak's larger pockets.
Ron just shook his head. "They're concerned that they're stranded, or-" The Gryffindor Keeper stopped abruptly, the implication clear. "They're stranded. They have to be," he forced determinedly, as if any other option was unacceptable. "But if the potions we sent with them don't work, they might need more and just can't get to them."
Harry read between the words.
It was either a rescue mission, or a body collection. And if it was the latter…
A whole new team was going to have to try a whole new set of potions.
The Boy-Who-Lived felt physically sick, dragging a hand over his scar. They couldn't be dead. Ron was right. That wasn't an option. The new team would just go in and bring them back.
Simple.
Somehow he knew better.
"So who is going?"
Kalliandra was now running her fingers comfortingly along Silverthorne's snout, as if attempting to relax the thestral. The harbringer of the dead simply chomped happily on whatever he'd found in her pocket. Narrowing his gaze, Harry realized it was a chocolate bar he'd left in his cloak before lending it to her.
The sound Ron made drug his attention immediately back to the red head, his best mate looking grim. "My brothers. They're sending Regulus too. But…" Blue eyes turned his way, the grimace growing as he met Harry's gaze. "Snape's…too valuable as a spy to risk him going, but they still haven't figured out how to replicate what Kaylens did to those potions to get them to combine. The ingredients they want to use…they just keep exploding."
Harry knew before Ron even said it.
"They want Kaylens to go with them."
An incredibly rough, primitive sound escaped Harry's throat before Kaylens had a chance to utter even a word. "She's not immune."
"Yeah…none of those going are," Ron confirmed grimly. "'Cept Dean."
The winter wind picked up, a gust sending an aberrant howling through the trees. Every previously relaxed muscle in Harry had gone taut. "What do you mean, Dean?" Thomas wasn't in the Order. He didn't even know anything about what was going on, beyond what was in the papers and that the potions masters were trying, like half the wizarding world, to create a cure.
"Apparently we weren't as good at sneaking around as we thought," Ron dryly told. "He overheard Snape and Regulus arguing, found out that they're going to test cures in Dublin, and demanded to go on account Ginny's there, and Seamus' family."
"And Dumbledore's just going to let him?"
"Dunno mate. I just came to get ya. He is immune though and Dumbledore wanted at least one immune person on the team." Ron paused, adding, "Can tell ya he still doesn't know about the Order at least."
Harry found that his fist was clenching around thin air, not certain what to do about that. It wasn't that he didn't like Dean. He'd been a part of the D.A., but…he didn't know who to trust outside of a very few individuals. And this…this was too important to be messed up.
A quiet, emotionless voice interrupted his thoughts. "So," Kaylens questioned, sounding resigned, "when do we leave?"
Harry's head jerked back towards her, finding that she had released her hold on Silverthorne, an inscrutable expression upon her countenance. The fact that his chest now felt sick didn't escape him. "You do realize you're not immune, right?" he demanded.
She didn't even meet his gaze. "The thought," she half-whispered, "crossed my mind."
"And you're still going to go?"
Ron had gone wisely silent, his best mate obviously aware that this wasn't a conversation for him. For a long moment Kaylens was silent, the only sound that of Ron's feet crunching against iced over snow, his best mate walking away, giving them space as he muttered about unneeded drama.
Harry ignored that and decided to deal with Ron later. Right now he was busy.
Kally's hazel eyes flickered up, meeting his in the twilight, casts of the setting sun and the forest's shadows mingling upon her face. "Apparently," she whispered, "I am."
She sounded scared.
Sick no longer even covered what his insides were doing, Harry taking a long, steadying breath. They hadn't exactly been on a lot of dates yet, but somehow he figured that having his girl run off to a plague zone and inevitable death was a particularly bad way for one to end. "I don't," he half growled, "like this."
She smiled weakly. "Not alone."
Neither of them moved, both eerily quiet.
It was Ron who finally broke the silence, shouting towards them. "There is something of a time issue."
Harry's gaze slid towards him, narrowing almost angrily. He didn't know what to do. He wanted Ginny and Neville back as much as anyone, but sending non-immune people after that seemed ill-advised. "I'm going too then," he ground out, tone firm, unquestioning.
Before Kalliandra's brow even had a chance to finish furrowing worriedly, Ron and his damnable werewolf hearing had already shouted back, "Not a chance, Harry! Dumbledore apparently has another assignment to send you, me, Hermione and Luna on!"
"Stop," he bellowed back, "eavesdropping!"
"Yeah, yeah, Harry!"
Grunting, Harry turned back towards Kaylens, unmoving. Something had happened to him recently, something good, involving her, and he wasn't keen to lose that. He also knew he couldn't ask her to stay.
Around them, where they both remained motionless on the grounds, the wind howled.
Harry didn't move until he felt Kaylens' cold fingers slip through his, giving him yet another gentle tug. Only this time…
It was back towards the castle.
Once more, Harry Potter felt numb.
ECOTS
"Don't worry little brother," George assured, "we'll be in and out, faster than Mum can send a howler."
Ron Weasley grunted skeptically.
Hermione sent him a disapproving look. "I think what Ron means," she clarified, "is he's worried about what to tell Mrs. Weasley when she finds out all of you left without telling her."
Fred Weasley gave his wand a flippant twirl. "That we are the most gallant-"
"Chivalrous."
"Debonair."
"Sons that she has-"
"So naturally we have to rescue-"
"Our little sister."
This time Ron groaned, Hermione eyeing him worryingly.
Kally slung a backpack over her shoulder, watching the exchange. They'd all gathered down in Snape's potions classroom, preparing to leave. Her, Fred, George, Regulus and Dean. They were just waiting on the rest of the pre-made potions to get loaded up, but Regulus and Snape were taking their time about that, being extraordinarily careful.
Sliding her other arm through the other backpack strap, she grabbed the adjusting tabs and tugged it tighter around her shoulders, finding that it felt ridiculously light. "Are you sure you have everything in here?" she questioned, not sure who the query was aimed at, but not wanting anything to be left out. Once they were in Dublin this backpack would carry all they had in terms of potions ingredients.
The look Professor Snape shot her could kill. "In all your naivety did you ever possibly consider that your betters have ensured it was loaded properly?"
She shrugged, at this point impervious to his moods. "Just checking, it's so light."
"Astounding," the Potion's Master drawled. "It's almost as if you are standing in a school of magic with wizards capable of lightening and expandability charms."
Kally huffed an annoyed breath, Regulus just rolling his eyes in Snape's general direction as he shoved the last of the vials in.
Besides her Potter was scowling. "I really," he ground darkly, "don't like this."
The Weasley twins swiveled both heads towards him like sharks scenting blood in the water.
"Anyone else other than Harry feel like this is an incredibly ill-advised idea?" Fred chirped, almost cheerfully.
George walked on over, slapping Harry loudly on the back. "Best ideas always are, brother-of-mine."
"Right you are, George." Fred threw a wink at Harry, adding, "Don't ya worry, Harry. We'll take good care of this lot."
"And the lot already there."
"Probably got lost."
"That Neville, he's awfully bad with directions."
"Probably took a wrong turn."
"Or got distracted by some cute, cuddly creature at the zoo."
"Ginny is a sucker for giraffes."
From off to the side, where he'd remained otherwise quiet, Dean snorted. Regulus, however, eyed the twins as if he were contemplating the merits of homicide. "My head," he drawled caustically, "feels like it is going to combust."
Kally didn't blame him: they were talkative, and possibly living on limited time, judging from the look that Harry was shooting the closest one.
Dumbledore had cryptically stated he had other plans for Harry, Hermione, Ron and Luna before discreetly taking Dean outside for a little Headmaster-to-student chat. It had been their queue to discuss anything Order related, before they got back.
Dean didn't even know about the Order's existence, so they'd have to keep it quiet and watch what they'd said while they were gone. Her friend was very much coming with them though, Dumbledore agreeing with the idea because Dean was someone who had actually be in the village when the immunity charm was cast.
If any of them got sick, Dean could at least, hopefully, survive it.
He'd already been briefed about that macabre task: what to do if the worst happened. It explained why the Gryffindor had been so uncharacteristically silent for the past twenty minutes. Studying him across the room for a long moment, his dark gaze momentarily caught hers, Kally offering Dean a weak smile.
He tried to smile back, but it really resembled more of a grimace.
Harry shrugged George's hand off, turning his attention on her and breaking through her thoughts. "I still think I should be the one going."
Kally turned her gaze on him, frowning. The way his brow furrowed, the set of his shoulders, the stiffening of his jaw…
Potter was worried, and she couldn't even lie and claim that they'd all be okay. They didn't know that. The entire world was dying, Hogwarts a rare shelter from all of it that mercifully allowed them to sometimes feel somewhat distanced. But they were still in the Order, and that meant they had to fight when they could. Dumbledore was their commander, moving them where they could do the most good, and right now…
Right now they were all just doing the best they could. She might be able to help in Dublin, even if it meant contracting the plague and dying.
They were at war.
Sometimes their best didn't seem like enough.
Potter moved, stepping closer, both of them ignoring George – or was it Fred's? – low whistle as his calloused hands found her waist.
"Atta boy, Harry! Now give her a big ole kiss!"
The malevolent look Potter shot them was reminiscent of Voldemort himself, his attention quickly turning back to her, his malachite gaze shockingly serious. Kally smiled weakly, heart pounding, feeling his hands moving along her sides. "Sure you won't kill those two?" he dryly asked.
"Oh I'll be fine," she assured. "Regulus however…"
Potter grunted agreement, lifting a hand and dropping it against the base of her neck, fingers moving almost comfortingly. Honestly, she didn't know if he were trying to comfort her or himself. Neither of them were happy about this, but it was a sound, strategic plan given the situation.
Since they'd lost contact with the original team, sending a second team capable of making additional potions into Dublin was the next best option. Neither her, Regulus, Fred or George had been there for the immunity spell though, so the amount of care they'd have to take to avoid getting sick...
Kally sucked in a breath, scared, Harry's brow thudding against hers as if he silently sensed it. "Please," he muttered, tone gravely serious, "be careful."
She nodded, her nose shunting alongside his, her fingers finding his chest. "Duh," she sarcastically muttered, echoing something he'd said to her weeks prior. The slight rumble that his chest emitted indicated he remembered.
It didn't take long for Potter's mouth to find hers, the simple pressure of him against her something she had grown to really need.
Kally seriously debated why she had agreed to go again. She knew why though. The war. Potter had his own role to play, she hers, Dean his, Ginny and Neville theirs…
They all had things they had to do, whether it separated all of them or not.
Her hand slid up his strong arm, enjoying the moment she had right now, not thinking about anything else.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, a piece!" Snape snapped. "I will not have public displays of affection in my quarters!"
She almost jerked away, startled, but Potter's grip just tightened on the back of her head, his mouth never ceasing movement over hers. He flat out ignored the Potion's Professor, taking his time with her, not ever once rushing. Feeling his fingers move through her hair, she made a contented sound, feeling shaken.
After awhile the pressure of his mouth lightened, the movement of his lips slowing, finally pausing motionless against hers, simply breathing. Just the feel of him had shivers racing through her skin, and when they were finally done…
Kally slowly cracked her gaze, finding Potter staring back with a grim smile.
"Make sure," he uttered quietly, so quietly that she'd surely be the only one to hear, "you get your ass back here."
Sliding her hand to the back of his head, she nodded against him. "Likewise." From wherever it was that he was going…no one had said. She wasn't even certain if Potter knew. That fact alone terrified her.
Simultaneously the sounds of loud gagging and overly exuberant cooing erupted from off to the side, the Weasley twins having taken different roles. Both her and Potter glanced towards them, the two twins eyeing one another in shock, already involved in their own personal debate.
"I thought we were gagging?"
"No, I thought we were going with the overly obvious cooing."
"We'll have to discuss future mocking more thoroughly before initiating."
"Make a plan. Follow through."
Potter made a half-irritated, half-amused sound, his hand sliding down to the base of her neck. "Ginny," he warned, "is going to hex you both. Soon as she sees you."
The twins shrugged. "Eh, been dealing with her volatile personality since she was born. We'll be good."
"Yeah, little sister doesn't scare us."
The way Potter arched both eyebrows clearly indicated his skepticism of that, Ron making a derisive sound off to the side. "I'm pretty sure Mum's gonna kill me for not telling her before you lot left," he interjected, "just in case any of you were worried about that."
"Don't worry Ronald, maybe you'll get reincarnated as a nargle."
From where they stood, Kally could see Luna sitting cross legged on top of one of the potion's tables, smiling serenely. Ron just made a flabbergasted gesture at her, as if requesting Hermione to 'get her.'
Hermione's only response was to roll her eyes, walking over to sit alongside Luna.
Weasley could be heard muttering something akin to 'traitor.'
The entire scene was surreal, far too normal given what they were about to set off to do. Then again…
Kalliandra honestly had no idea how going off to war was supposed to feel, or look. Maybe this was just all of them grasping as hard as they could onto their last, fleeting remnants of normalcy. Eyes flickering back to Potter's, she found his already on her, quietly observing everything she did.
She couldn't help but smile ever-so-slightly, her free hand finding his free grip and squeezing it.
Potter could fight. Wherever Dumbledore was taking them, he'd at least be okay. She got no farther down that line of thought though, because right then Dean shook himself out of his solitary reverie and walked over, slapping Harry on the back.
The look that crossed the wizard she'd been snogging's face indicated how pleased he was. In fact, it looked rather like he was contemplating hexing. "Why," Harry muttered darkly, addressing her rather than Dean, "does everyone keep doing that?"
"Comradery?" Kally suggested, glancing over Potter's shoulder at Dean, directing the question to the perpetrator of the aforementioned back-slap in question.
Dean just shrugged from behind Harry's back. "Dunno, maybe he looks particularly slappable today?"
Abruptly Potter hands left her, his arm instead dragging around her waist and tugging her pointedly against his side as he turned to face Dean head on. The way he'd drug her against him, despite the small backpack she wore, was only slightly possessive.
"Thomas," he said stiffly, the surname use odd given that the two were typically semi-friendly, if not actually friendly. It was like Potter was assessing Dean's ability to go instead of himself. "Think you're up for this?"
Dean's grin faded slightly, the wizard leaning against one of the potions' benches. "Does it matter?" he asked rhetorically. "People are dying, last time I checked. And Ginny's there, and Seamus' family."
Potter's grimace said more than his words. "You haven't ever fought, Dean. This isn't some joke."
Dean's expression tightened. "So what was the whole D.A. about last year then?" he countered, raising a dark eyebrow. "If we weren't training to fight, then what exactly were we doing?"
Potter's grip flexed against her side, the wizard only grunting.
Dean met the grunt with a strained grin, constantly impervious to other people's bad moods, even whilst in the throes of his own. "You don't have a monopoly on the war effort, Harry. I want to help."
"Never said I did."
"Then get used to other people trying to help out. All I'm sayin'," he responded almost too casually. "Not always gonna be just you."
The look Potter was shooting Dean was coldly calculating. "Fine. I'm still curious though, how exactly did you wind up overhearing about this little field trip? We weren't advertising." Pausing, he ground in addition, "Not exactly like you to be hanging out around the Potions' lab in your off hours."
Dean's dark brown eyes didn't so much as blink. "Was looking for Kally. Wanted to see if she'd help me practice swing dancing."
Now it was her turn to shoot Dean a seriously odd look. "Wait, what?"
Dean shot her a strained grin, but never took his gaze off Potter, the two involved in some type of staring match. "Swing dancing. You know…" he held his arms out like he was dancing, and gave an invisible girl a spin.
Potter had stiffened. "Swing," he repeated, as if speaking a foreign language, "dancing?"
"Yeah," he defended, "there's this Muggle girl I like back home. Chick's into swing dancing. Figured if we all survive this plague business, it'd be nice to take her out to do it." That said, Dean finally glanced at her, the tension between Dean and Potter seeming to ease. "But need to practice so I don't step on her toes." He gestured at her. "Gotta be either Ginny or Kally given," he now gestured towards Hermione, "the last time a bloke asked Hermione to dance, Weasley about lost his bloody mind."
"Oi! I did not!"
"Did too mate," his brother chimed in.
"Yup, had it bad. Cursed Viktor Krum's name all summer."
Ron was turning a rather brilliant shade of red, Potter only helping matters. "You accused Hermione of cavorting with the enemy, mate." The feel of his hand on her was tense, but he seemed to be relaxing…somewhat.
Across the room Hermione forced a smile, it not quite reaching her eyes. "You really did, Ron. You shouted at me, right on the stairwell." Her parents being taken…it had taken a toll on the Prefect.
While Weasley groaned off to the side, Dean gestured pointedly. "See? He's proving my point. And since Ginny's not here, had to be Kally-kins."
Kally actually shot him a disbelieving look, Potter just stoically repeated, "Kally…kins?"
Dean nodded seriously. "Kally-kins."
Before Potter even had a chance to turn and ask she shot him a look. "You are not," she threatened Harry, "giving me a nickname." It was bad enough that Dean apparently already had.
Potter opened and closed his mouth, before finally dryly stating, "Shouldn't there be some kind of clause, about snagging another wizard's girlfriend for dance practice?"
Dean chortled stiffly, the sound almost stilted. "Come on Harry, share a little. I never had a hot date like you to practice with at that Triwizard Gala."
Now it was Kally's turn to shoot Potter an inquiring look. "Hot date?"
He'd paled considerably, grimacing. "It wasn't like that."
It took considerable effort on her part to not let her lips twitch, amusement somehow present despite the clanking of potions vials. "Oh?" saying nothing else, she silently enjoyed watching him squirm.
"Eh don't worry about it Kal. Come to think of it he didn't get to dance with that girl anyway. He was too busy getting mad watching Cho with another guy."
Unable to suppress her slight humor her eyebrows both rose, an inquiring smile directed at Potter. "Cho?"
"Thomas," he growled, "I'm going to kill you."
Dean just waggled his eyebrows and made a comical 'come and get me' gesture with his hands.
And that was when Dumbledore walked back in. "I believe," the Headmaster stated somewhat amicably, "that it is time."
With a loud clank Regulus shouldered a second backpack, the Weasley twins grinning widely as they summoned broomsticks. Dean chortled, and Kally…
Kally found herself being snogged by Potter, the wizard clearly not keen on letting her leave without at least that. And as she felt his hand roaming through her hair, she also heard the sound of Snape removing another 20 points apiece from both of them.
They were as ready as they'd ever be.
