Chapter 38 ~ When it Fades to Black

"The rebel is doomed to a violent death."

~ Edward Abbey


ECOTS


Five days had passed. Five days since they had fled the area surrounding St. James Hospital, and it had not been without incident.

Fred and George had both become infected, the entire team stopping in an abandoned grocery store to rest while the twins downed the remaining potion stock that had worked on the Muggle girl.

Regulus had managed to brew another small batch behind the produce aisle, Kally using her magic to combine it.

That had only ended with her shaking and unable to move for another day.

The boils that had appeared on the twins had begun to shrivel, the two keeping their distance from her and Regulus, the last remaining non-immune on the team, who had not yet contracted it. Dean had taken to watching her closely, as if she'd collapse again at any moment. Oddly, he seemed entirely non-flummoxed by what she'd done. Apparently the Ministry was a bunch of duddards anyway, even if she hadn't explained it fully. Hell, his only response had been, "Gotcha, so…you realize you're like a human firefly then?" Apparently the magic crawling on her skin reminded him of that.

Malana, the Muggle girl for whom they now had a real name, had taken great glee in guard duty. It turned out that one of the duffle bags had been loaded with rounds of ammunition, the girl a frighteningly good shot.

As of yet, no one had worked up the guts to ask her where she'd acquired it in ordinarily peaceful Ireland.

Ginny and her had hit it off though, the redheaded witch usually by her side, clutching her wand as if ready to kill anything that dared come into her line of sight. She'd even figured out a way to silencing charm Malana's gun so that the creatures and Death Eaters couldn't hear each shot.

Neville, Amarante and Tres had contented themselves with mapping out the best route out of the city, finally concluding something: there was no easy way out.

They'd even stopped at where the Dublin branch of the Order had once been, but it too was a ghost town, the Floo network already shut down from there.

That left them stuck, still within the anti-apparation and portkey boundaries, the small group coming up with an only slightly suicidal plan that would, if successful, get them out of the city fast.

That was how they now found themselves on the outskirts of the city, between industrial looking buildings, disillusioned and walking along train tracks. Every so often Kally felt Dean's hand on her back, as if he were reassuring himself that she hadn't fallen behind, unnoticed while invisible. Finally she just reached out and grabbed a hold of his hand, squeezing it to let him know she hadn't gone anywhere. She had no intention of wandering off, especially now.

They had finally reached the train yard, ready for the next part of their half-insane plan. The enveloping silence as they all stood there, disillusionment charms being removed one-by-one, was almost unnerving.

Kally stood alongside Dean, eyeing the large engine with as much skepticism as Ginny. "Won't someone hear it?"

Her throat sounded scratchier, rougher than she'd remembered. For the past 48 hours they had all barely spoken, loathe to risk attracting any more of those things' attention. Dean had taken to communicating with her in sign language, that at least a way for the two of them to take the edge off the intensity of their situation whenever they weren't invisible.

They'd attempted to teach the others, but Fred had just flipped them off, George grinning and miming trouble hearing.

Now that same Weasley twin was looking up at the lead car, the piston dwarfing him. "Well," he replied, as if almost rethinking things himself, "we've gotta get somewhere that we can apparate at," tapping his fingers on a cylinder, the oil coming off on his gloves, "and if we stay here much longer were invariably gonna become mincemeat. If we go on foot, we invariably become mincemeat. Roads are packed with wreckage, so hot wiring a car like Malana suggested," the girl rolled her eyes as if still irritated by that, "would invariably end with a short ride and a loud crash, attracting things that want to eat us, and thenwe still become mincemeat. We could try to attract Death Eaters on brooms to the nearest high building and play at laso-ing their cowled hides to steal their brooms, but everyone voted down Amarante's cattle wrangling idea…"

"Too American," Amarante mimicked, still looking surly over it. "Cowboys were the last great adventurers. You unadventurous, history hating-"

George cut off the rest of his mutterings, giving a coupling rod a good slap. "So," he challenged, "since Death Eaters most certainly aren't bulls, who is in for a stupidly suicidal ride?"

The twin's pep talk was met with a sea of blank faces, Kally arching an eyebrow skeptically.

George sighed, gesturing impatiently at the train again. "We have to let the Order know the antidote works somehow."

Standing there, in the cool January afternoon sunlight, everyone stared at the train as if they were debating poking a sleeping dragon.

He had a point. They'd yet to see any owls stupid enough to hang around, and they had to try something.

Fred was the one who finally broke the silence, showing his twin some solidarity. "All aboard then!" Slapping Neville on the back, the Gryffindor shot him an unhappy look as Fred launched himself up onto the engine and nailed the door with an unlocking charm.

He was inside wearing a conductor's hat in ten seconds flat. Poking his head out of the icicle covered window, he grinned maniacally. "Can I use the horn when we run that Muggle barricade over? Pleeeease dad?" The look he was shooting Regulus resembled that of a six year old child begging to stay up past his bed time, it only ruined by the wicked, mocking grin teasing his mouth.

Regulus ignored him, contenting himself with muttering very dark things under his breath, the wizard already stalking down the tracks to do gods knew what.

Dean gave her hand a quick squeeze and released it, looking down the long tracks, the buildings blocking him from having a clear line of sight to the outskirts of Dublin. "How far could we possibly be the city's edge?" It was clearly rhetorical, sounding like he was trying to reassure himself more than anyone.

Neville came up alongside them, Ginny a step behind. "A few miles. We could walk that."

The look Ginny shot him was almost icy, the girl flipping her hair out of her eyes. "Since when have you fancied a stroll through zombies?"

The face Neville made clearly relayed that he'd been considering it as a viable option, ever since laying eyes on the atrocity of a train. "We'll never get up to speed that quickly."

"Ah sure we will," Tres called conversationally, he and Regulus standing between the second and third train car. "A little bit of the magical persuasion and it'll speed right on up."

Malana spun the Glock as if bored, gnawing on the inside of her cheek. "This thing is a relic," she finally told. "They only use it for tourists in the summers now and given that it's January…" she trailed off, her point about it potentially snapping in half not needing to be said aloud.

Kalliandra couldn't help but agree. This wasn't a modern train by any means, but none of them had the slightest idea of how to work one of those, let alone how to hex one into obeying. When they'd even considered the idea Amaratne had waved his hands around so much while bitching about 'buttons' that they'd just said screw it and decided on this one. Fortunately Dublin still had a couple of old steam powered trains, for historical purposes, stashed around and in working order.

She felt seriously bad for it, given that it's odds of surviving their little group were fairly poor.

Sadly they didn't have much of a choice. All the updated train stations, the ones that had been in actual regular use prior to the plague striking, were probably crawling with the undead by now, or highly contaminated from the previous passengers.

At least this was away from all of that. It wouldn't have been used in months.

Adjusting her backpack's straps, Kally eyed it skeptically. "Will magic keep it on the tracks?" She felt like this was an incredibly important point. They couldn't just hex it into submission. Gnawing on her lower lip, she added, "Someone's going to have to make sure the tracks are actually lined up to take us out of the city too."

She found herself greeted with several blank, confused looks, leaving her to sigh. "Train tracks," she clarified, gesturing at the literal metal tracks that the steam engine was propped on, "there are spots where they change over to other routes, and if this is just a tourist track like Malana said, then it probably just wraps around the city in endless circles, rather than leaving it. If we're escaping we either have to stop and manually change them over, or see if one of you has a spell for it."

Dean swore under his breath, the dark skinned wizard clearly racking his mind for one, while Amarante just looked thoughtful.

Fred stuck his head back out of the main engine, looking absurdly gleeful, Kally cutting him off before he could say something else insane. "A spell that doesn't involve brute force. You don't want the tracks to physically break off while the train is moving."

The Weasley twin instantly appeared to deflate, Kally groaning. The scent of old oil was strong in the air, even now. It had probably been months at worst, weeks at best, since the train had any form of oil on its many, many gears. Since then it'd had a long time to sit unused, freezing in the frigid winter cold.

The entire thing was going to be a screeching, noisy, zombie-and-Death-Eater-attention-attracting mess.

Spots of a solidified, tar-like black substance could be seen between the tracks and rails, the gravel covering the entire train yard a perfect surface for it. Ginny was eyeing it with concern. "Is that…pus?" She took a slow step back, eyeing it as if it would spring to life at any moment.

Kally shook her heard. "Just oil. It always looks like that on these old trains."

Everyone was now looking at the train's black and green painted surface, going over options.

"Slytherin green," Ginny griped. "Probably not a good sign is it?"

Several muffled bangs, followed by a cloud of black soot erupted out of the engine compartment, Fred and George emerging, hanging out the windows and coughing. The two waved their hands in the universal I'm okay gesture, before disappearing again.

Several flashes of spells later and a few choice, muffled words, and steam started to slowly emerge from the engine's smokestack.

Kally's mouth barely had time to drop open at the fact that they'd actually gotten it working before a loud screech and BANG shattered the train yard's silence. Jerking towards the noise, she saw that Regulus and Tres had just used brute force to detach the engine and second car from the third. Getting rid of the extra weight to drag…that was smart. They'd be able to go faster.

"Everyone in," Regulus snapped. "Something was bound to have heard that."

A flick of his wand sent the large door to the second car, one resembling an old freight car, sliding open. Not needing told twice Kally bolted towards it, the wheels already beginning to turn with a mighty grind, the ice coating them cracking loudly. Smacking her hands down onto the floor of the car, she jumped and shoved herself up and into it.

The others were behind her a second later, Kally crouching down inside, her pathetic, pre-magicked wand clutched between two fingers like a lifeline. The weak stunning charm that it could do would do absolutely nothing against the undead. They'd seen one flip a car two days prior. She doubted a stunning spell would have any effect.

The train was moving, Fred and George letting out mighty whoops from the front engine. Regulus frowned disapprovingly, the wizard hanging out the opposite side of the train car, both doors wide open to ensure that they had full view from all angles.

Regulus began to shoot several spells at the wheels.

They started to speed up.

The noise alone was practically ear-shattering: a grinding, screeching, ice-cracking mess. Wincing she shouted over the cacophony, "Silencing charms?!"

Amarante shot her a thumb's up, the wizards already on it. As soon as the noise died down, the train running not entirely silent, but much better than it had been, Amarante warned, "We'll have to pass the military blockade."

"Better make sure we're going too fast for them to get us then, eh?" Tres countered, waggling his eyebrows.

Neville shot them all an odd look, the grinding of unoiled wheels on ice-covered cracks still a loud presence in the metal compartment. "Did you see the fire power those Muggles had?" A laminated sign flapped overhead, the thing advertising to tourists that this compartment had been for their bicycle storage. "They don't want anyone leaving the city."

Malana heaved a breath, tying her dark hair back into a low, tight ponytail with what appeared to be a broken rubber band. "Us Muggles," she practically simpered, her liking of the term obvious, "have weapons that can take out aircraft going faster than the speed of sound. Do you actually think they couldn't shoot this relic off the tracks?" Spotting their looks, she rolled her eyes. "Spells or not. You better hope you can all do that disappearing thing as quick as advertised, otherwise were toast."

"Are you sure," Ginny stated, snagging onto the side as the entire train car gave an almighty lurch, Fred and George shouting apologies and something about 'running over something ugly,' "that this is a good idea again?"

Dean winced. "At least we know it can run straight over those things."

"If that was in question," Regulus drawled, "then your ability to grasp basic physics is even farther gone than I ever thought."

Now Ginny just looked confused. "Phys-what?"

The Potion's Master gave her a blank stare. "I am surrounded by incompetent children." It sounded like he was commiserating with himself.

Wind began to whip through the compartment, the two doors on either side creating a type of wind tunnel effect.

"We can use spells against them, before they are able to attack us," Tres suggested calmly.

"Magic against Muggles?" Dean voiced what was on all of their minds, the sound of the wheels crushing snow and ice growing louder, "Isn't that-"

Ginny let out an abrupt laugh. "Illegal? Look around you Dean. I'm doubting they'll know it was any of us who did it or that they're even monitoring here." The red-head's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Since when have you ever cared about the rules anyway?"

Dean smirked. "What?" he questioned innocently. "Got into Muggle chicks recently. Just saying, I'd rather not see them hexed."

Ginny snorted in clear disbelief.

Amarante twirled his wand. "Just let the Ministry try to lock me up." He sounded frighteningly invigorated at the prospect. "I've been itching to take on a good dementor."

Neville shot him an odd look. "The dementors abandoned Azkaban months ago."

The entire train was moving fast enough to begin shaking, the entire thing lurching for a half-second, causing everyone to grab onto the nearest wall.

Ginny, however, stomped towards one of the open doors the second the train stopped debating whether or not it desired to leave the tracks, cursing about idiot brothers. Her brown gaze darted outside fiercely, hair whipping in the wind as the train picked up speed.

A second later she disappeared, grabbing a hold of a maintenance ladder that had been located outside, right by the door, so as to allow access to the train car's roof, clinging to it and climbing in the breeze generated by the train's movement.

Neville stared, finally shaking himself with an abrupt cough. "Well, better help in that case…."

A second later he'd disappeared after Ginny, leaving Amarante, Tres, Dean, Regulus, Malana and her in the car staring after them.

Amarante looked like he was almost pouting. "I wanted the high ground," he griped, taking up position by the door instead. The others all began to follow suit, Kally feeling useless.

They all, except for Malana, had real magic. They could actually fight, and she couldn't help but remember that afternoon in Grimmauld, when Potter told her she was going to get herself killed if she insisted on joining the fight.

Potter. She fought back the feeling in her chest that the very thought of him elicited. She just hoped that wherever he was, that he was having better luck with Dumbledore's assignment than they were with theirs.

"I can see the barricade!" Ginny's shout was almost drowned out by the wind, it barely making it inside the compartment.

Grabbing the side of the door, Kally stuck her head out of it, seeing it too. They were getting closer. The Muggles were bound to have seen them.

Then it struck her how abysmally stupid they all were.

Whipping around she stared at all of them. She was still getting used to magic but what was their excuse? "Disillusionment charms! Can you do that to the train?" What the Muggles couldn't see they couldn't blow up.

Tres frowned, shaking his head. "Only works on humans but…"

"Chameleon charms!" Amarante practically burst.

Regulus was already casting the charm, leaning outside and attempting to hit the wheels with spells. The only problem was that each spell only appeared to send one metal part blending into the background. "Apparently," he drawled backwards, his pale fingered grip hard on the compartment door as he continued his efforts, "inanimate objects don't take quite as well as wizards to the charm."

The rumbling of the train continued, Kally acutely aware that the Muggles had to of seen them by now, coming in the distance. They had been abysmally stupid.

Grabbing the door herself she leaned out, snagging the ladder with one hand for balance. "Ginny! NEVILLE!" she shouted, spotting a red head of hair poke over the top of the ladder, the girl balancing herself precariously on the roof. "Can you chameleon charm the roof!?"

Kalliandra got barely a nod in reply before Ginny's head disappeared, the sudden disappearance of one piece of metal the only evidence that they were even up there.

Watching, seeing one piece of metal disappear at a time, Kally realized how this was working.

Every single bit of metal needed separately charmed, and a train…

It had a ridiculous number of metal pieces.

She swore under her breath. Merlin did she feel useless.

Right up until she saw the Malana drop her duffel onto the compartment's floor, the top open enough to reveal the contents. Inside Kallianda could see multiple rounds of ammunition and more than one spare firearm.

It took her a second, weighing her options as she desperately tried to think of another idea. The girl's words though, that they really disliked being shot in the head, were something she remembered.

Years ago, when she'd still been far too young to be taught such things, her father had drug her and Sean into the backyard and taught them to shoot.

Her family had thought Josh' murder had been a random break in, something that guns would stop the next time.

The memory wasn't exactly warm and fuzzy, but it would do. Brow furrowing, she nodded at Malana, half regretting her question already, "Mind if I borrow one of those?"

Train shaking, the steady sound of it rumbling over the tracks prominent within the compartment, she found herself looking into the somewhat assessing gaze of a Muggle. To her surprise Malana inclined her head towards the bag. "Hardly borrowing, considering they're all scavenged anyway."

Approaching and crouching down, already rooting carefully but quickly through the bag's contents, given the rapidly approaching barricade, Kally shot her a questioning look. Malana just shrugged. "You'd be surprised how many people in allegedly peaceful areas have illegal firearms to scavenge, when the zombie apocalypse comes to town." Heaving a sigh, the girl dryly added, "I picked a great time to visit Dublin."

From the compartment doorway Dean had obviously been listening in, the wind already whipping the tattered remains of his clothing. "Picked a hell of a time to play tourist." He paused, then added, almost to himself, "Explains why you don't have an Irish accent."

The girl's eyes merely narrowed in amusement. "I'm Hawaiian and Swedish, actually."

Dean actually eyed her in disbelief. "How does that happen?"

"Vacation," she drawled, "gone awry."

"Ah," Dean guffawed, "so you're a love child."

"Something like that."

Listening in, but only barely, Kally found a Colt. It was similar to the make of her father's, but unlike her father's it wasn't a long barreled revolver. England didn't exactly allow private citizens to own guns easily, and her father had only had his through a gun club anyway.

Then again, her father had a short-barreled pistol as well, and as far as she knew those were illegal, particularly for a school teacher.

Kally shoved the thought away, loading it and standing up, approaching the door and settling in alongside Dean.

In the wind her hair whipped around her face, her eyes steely. Dean just gave her a light elbow, nudging her in his own poor attempt at reassurance. Both of their gazes locked firmly on the barricade as they approached, only a half-mile away now, with only part of the train chameleon charmed.

It'd confuse the Muggles, but not entirely.

"Get ready!" Ginny screamed from outside. "There are THINGS up there! And the actual barricade is gone!"

Up ahead, where the Muggle militia that they had been so worried about ought to have been, was nothing but a swarming mass of disjointedly moving bodies.

The creatures had breached the barricade, and obviously trampled what was left of it.

She doubted any Muggles were alive.

Swallowing, she grew instantly tense, Dean doing the same besides her. "We," he stated, his grip on his wand turning his knuckles almost white, "are so screwed."

And that was when the Death Eaters decided to show back up.


ECOTS


"I think she might be a seer."

Remus paced his quarters, his hair growing grayer by the day. He should have known that agreeing to take that assignment with Tonks in Dublin, all those months ago, would lead to his current predicament. He wasn't certain how he should have known, but he should have.

He'd had several days of pure domestication in his old Hogwarts Professor's quarters with Tonks, Emily and himself, and he'd gotten so good at games of exploding snap, wizard's chess, some Muggle game called Jenga, bedtime stories, letting Tonks sit in his lap, and eating cereal whilst still in his dressing gown that his head was about to explode.

It was mainly about to explode because he was the most relaxed he'd been in ages. If it were not for the fact that the Order members in Dublin, in particular Kalliandra, were still gone he'd have had one of the best weeks of his adult life.

He almost wanted to thank Dumbledore for enforcing this babysitting duty upon him.

Now he stopped mid-stride, looking Tonks dead in the eye. Emily had nodded off mid-way through a rather boring round of wizard's chess, which had given the two of them the opportunity to slip away to discuss some of Emily's most recent habits in private.

"Seriously Remus," Tonks reiterated, sounded eerily serious, "why else would she keep making these bizarre observations?"

Remus made a mental note to mark the date on the calendar – today was the day that Nymphadora Tonks was actually being fully serious. Every centimeter of the smooth, perfect skin on her face was etched with worry. "True seers typically do not recollect what they say, Tonks," he reminded. "There's still a possibility that this is all nothing more than a traumatized child making up stories."

The sound Tonks made clearly told him exactly what she thought of that theory. The witch leaned against the loft's railing, shooting him her Auror-patented-interrogation look. "Wolfy, when Hogsmeade got attacked she, Kenneth and I weren't even in the same country, yet she looked me square in the eye," gesturing adamantly with her fingers for illustrative purposes, she continued, "and said your friends are in trouble."

He straightened up alongside the bedstead, leaning against the frame. Remus really did not want this child to be a seer. She had said very little that could be interpreted as good over the past few days. He did not even want to fathom what could be meant by her constant singing about thrice betrayed and light leaving one's eyes. Whose eyes?

Remus solemnly drummed his fingers along the bed post. What Tonks was suggesting was uncharted territory, even for the realm of Divination. Seers did not remember their predictions, yet this child continually stated things that were not just predictions, but that were correct observations about things she could not possibly know. Each and every single time the child was entirely awake, cognizant of what she was stating, not at all exhibiting any of the black outs typical of true seers.

"What other bizarre observations are making you think she's a seer?" he finally settled on, trying to reason this out logically.

Nymphadora made a sound not unlike a recently hippogriff-mauled Slytherin. "Remus, she's known everything we were doing the past several days, from the effort in Dublin to exactly what type of cereal you were going to choose." Remus frowned, only for Tonks to cut him off, waving her hand dismissively.
"We made a game of it."

He eyed her with some unease. "I've had a different type each day," he stated rather unnecessarily. As an Order member, a poor one at that, he was not accustomed to having a wide selection of tasty cereal varieties. His choice of dietary preferences usually bordered on the mundane if not outright boring, but Hogwarts' selection was rather outstanding and he had been enjoying them.

"Yeah," Tonks shot back pointedly. "I know." She widened her eyes for emphasis, Remus heaving a loud sigh.

Tonks was not wrong to be questioning it. The girl had taken to stating things, almost casually, that she couldn't possibly have otherwise known. She'd even warned Tonks a few times to not trip or drop something, mere minutes before the Auror had actually done so.

Whatever the girl stated seemed to occur, her strange 'sing-song' sayings sounding like the most sadistic prophecies he'd ever heard of, while other things she said…

We're downright benign.

The girl had rapidly become bored with wizarding chess for that very reason. It was like she could predict their moves before they did them. She had not stated as much, but he suspected.

Remus moved, walking to stand alongside the rail with Tonks. Looking down into the living area of the Professors' quarters he could clearly see young Emily Bothan curled up, slumbering deeply on the settee, a rather raggedy cloak of his clutched between her arms like a security blanket.

Sighing, he felt his heart go out to the child. Her father's whereabouts, rather like everyone else in Dublin, were still unknown. No child deserved to lose both parents so quickly.

It turned his mind to the other young ward he'd recently grown concerned with, but Kalliandra had been on the team sent into Dublin and she too, was missing.

He had checked in on Harry periodically, but the young man had been in the hospital wing, hovering like a phantom alongside Luna Lovegood's bed, refusing to move. He'd barely articulated more than four syllables at a time when he had visited, Harry's thoughts clearly elsewhere.

So, so many of them were in pain, hurting, possibly dead, and yet Remus could do very little about any of it. Instead, he had been playing at domesticated werewolf with Nymphadora.

Heaving a sigh, glad of her presence for the moment, he shook his head sadly. "If what you're suggesting is true, Tonks, then that type of seer…she'd be invaluable to someone like Voldemort." Remus was already contemplating the many grizzly scenarios, none of them good. "I've never heard of one like her."

Tonks rather shapely bum remained pressed against the railing, her head turning to appraise him. "She could be a psychic. I know those Muggle nutters always think those are a galleon a dozen but really, we never had proof that any actually existed." Tilting her head down towards Emily, she added, "Maybe we do now."

Remus sighed heavily. "She'll need protection. More than we are already providing."

The breath that Tonks let out sent her short bangs flying. "We already are. I mean we could try to get the Ministry involved, but you and I both know how well that would go, and the Order is stretched for resources as it is."

"Yes well, Dumbledore is still finding a way to give us all little breaks from the horrors of it." Pausing, his eyes shifting towards hers, he forced a grim smile in the bright daylight spilling into his former quarters.

Tonks natural brown gaze met his, her long, natural lashes framing her eyes as she regarded him with a slight smile. "He really has, hasn't he?"

Remus allowed his own brown to narrow. "Much to my chagrin." The sensations within him, all because of her, were ones he had been slow, even loath, to admit. Regardless, the past five days had admittedly been some of the best of his adult life. "Though it has been tedious," he dryly told, "sharing a bed with two cover hoggers." Emily had refused to sleep alone, and had drug them both into bed with her.

Then the child and Tonks had proceeded to steal every square centimeter of covers, leaving him to cast warming charms on himself to get through the night with anything even remotely resembling rest.

Tonks let out a loud laugh. "Oh please, you know you enjoyed it."

He could not take his eyes off her, his expression rather strange. "Indeed…I have," came his admission, the old Marauder studying the young Auror intently. For a moment Remus was able to forget about all the more pressing, heavier topics.

Since he'd met her there had been…something. It was something he had been unwilling to admit to, for he was too old, too dangerous, too poor, too damaged. Tonks though…she had been far more willing than he.

She'd only been tormenting him, reminding him how little she cared about all of those things for over a year, even before she'd started being shockingly direct. And by direct he meant when she'd finally grown so frustrated that she'd started – quite literally – throwing herself at him.

Taking her into his bed had only deepened what he had denied, even if he had exerted considerable effort to avoid her afterwards, hoping that alone would convince her to turn her affections elsewhere.

As always the witch had just taken his avoidance in stride, acting as if it were a type of game and taking great glee in cornering him whenever she could. And now…

Remus was growing somewhat tired of the game.

He was, after all, only a man.

Slowly, not looking away from the witch quite literally plaguing him, he leaned in. Tonks' beautiful eyes danced mischievously, his hand falling alongside her neck, Remus merely looking at her for a long moment.

She truly was far too beautiful for him.

Then he kissed her. Remus kissed her slowly, comfortingly. It was unlike their previous trysts. Before they had all been frenzied with passion, an ultimate goal of eventual disrobing involved. This one…

It was different.

When he pulled back he found that Tonks' eyes were still closed, a rather stupefied grin on her face. "Mmm, Mooney, a girl could get used to this."

Remus found several warring emotions stirring within him, his mouth opening to perhaps state only one of those, but a small, young voice interrupted him.

"Can I wear flowers?"

Tonks' eyes fluttered open, the Auror leaning to look around him, Remus turning his head just enough to see that young Emily had woken up and climbed the stairs. She now stood up there, observing them both intently.

Then the child flounced over to the bed and sat down cross-legged on it.

Remus' thumb carefully remained on Tonks' face, caressing it gently as he smiled. Tonks merely shot him a grin, swatting his hand away, before turning her attention to the girl. "Of course you can wear flowers. What's the occasion?"

Emily Bothan nibbled on her lip and looked thoughtful for a moment. The girl looked abjectly confused. "Your wedding I thought?"

Remus choked slightly, the little girl entirely ignoring him. She'd obviously been taking lessons from Tonks, who didn't even bat an eye.

"I know you like sunflowers," Emily continued, "but can I have daisies in my hair? I like them better."

"Well sunflow-" Tonks stopped mid-sentence, blinking as if she'd been slapped. "Wait, come again?" If Remus hadn't been standing right there, he would not have thought that Tonks' voice could get that high pitched.

Emily was undeterred, swinging her feet from her perch on the bed, wearing a pleasant smile. "Can I wear daisies?"

"Daisies…." Tonks repeated this slower than she ordinarily would, shooting him a look, as if seeking help answering the child's somewhat insane question.

Remus offered no help. Inside him something had stirred. It had been stirring, and he had been ignoring it for a very long while.

Perhaps it was time to stop.

Remus did not help, and instead met Tonks' wide-eyed look with a purposeful widening of his own, for once not running in the other direction. "What?" he questioned levelly. "I have absolutely no preference on flower selection. That would be entirely your area."

Tonks blinked rather owlishly, looking as if he'd gone slightly mad. "Um…"

Yes, today was definitely a day to mark on the calendar. Not only had Tonks been freakishly serious for the better part of the day, but she had now been rendered speechless.

It only fueled the somewhat reckless feeling riffling through him, his inner Marauder rearing its ugly head.

"Is that 'um' a yes," he questioned casually, "or a 'no, I'm going to hex you?'" He stated this all as if discussing something no more serious than the weather.

Tonks made a sound rather like a dying cat.

The green eyes of the little girl turned to him, a slight frown touching her features for the most fleeting of seconds. "Is Tonksie okay?" The little girl's eyes widened, adding, "Is this another adult thing?"

"Oh this is most definitely an adult thing, Emily," he assured the child easily, watching Tonks' expression go through several different shades of pink.

"So Tonksie did know you love her, right Mr. Lupin?"

The question was asked so innocently, so insecurely that he couldn't even be irritated by the child saying it before he had. Remus merely shrugged, fixing Tonks with a questioning look. "Dunno Emily. So, what about it? Did you figure that out yet," a grin crept onto his face, turning oddly deviant as he added, "Nymphadora?"

Tonks immediately ceased sputtering.

A moment later her wand was out, Remus ducking and dodging her attempt to transfigure him into a particularly slimy type of newt.

"Is that a no?" he taunted, ducking beneath her next volley of transfiguration attempts.

Unfortunately he was not quite fast enough.

Remus Lupin, kitty cat extraordinaire, blinked up at the brown-haired Auror towering above him with a maniacal grin. Emily's face appeared, poking out from above the mattress, and Remus let out a rather pathetic meowl.

This had not exactly gone as he'd envisioned it. Not that he had ever done so, but something about it still seemed rather demeaning.

Tonks just grinned wider, still looking a bit dazed. "That, Remy," she stated casually, "would not be a no." She looked rather smugly pleased with herself, inclining her head as if to admire her handiwork. "Thought I might leave you like that for a little while, until you remember it's not nice to call people by their parental given names."

Remus hissed. Emily giggled. Tonks let out a throaty laugh.

He was doomed.

Later he would ask himself what in the name of the Marauders that he was doing, but…he cavalierly figured that if Emily really was a seer, there was no point fighting against the tide.

Tonks had already assured that he was well caught up within it.

He'd fought the good fight against it long enough.

For now Remus Lupin stalked over on his four paws to where Tonks' shoes were, casually held out his kitty-foot, extended the sharp claws, and made a pointed spectacle of getting ready to slash them.

A flash of a spell later and he found himself quite human again, on his back, with Nymphadora sitting rather agreeably on top of him. "Not," she threatened, poking him in the nose with her wand, "nice, Remus."

Then Tonks kissed him, and for a sodding moment all was right with the world.

At least until Emily Bothan started going, "Ewwwww."


ECOTS


The first curse was barely deflected, Regulus' shield charm saving them all.

His blue-tinted shield blazed out, creating a bubble around the rushing cars, right as the first of the Death Eater's spells made contact. The malicious brown light burst out in every direction, enveloping the shield charm like some type of toxic sludge being spilled over the two train cars, Regulus shouting uncharacteristically as he struggled to hold it.

"PROTEGO!"

Amarante's spell joined his, other lights flashing out, first Tres, then Dean, then Neville and Ginny from the roof. All their spells combined to form a protective shield around the compartments, all of them clearly struggling to hold it as the train vibrated on the tracks, its rumbling, unoiled wheels screeching loudly in spite of the silencing charms.

On the roof Ginny and Neville were holding down their end of the shielding charms, and inside the car Regulus and Amarante struggled on one side, Dean and Tres by her on the other. The four looked to be off balance, barely able to stand upright as they tried to maintain the protective bubble surrounding the rumbling steam engine.

Dean had both hands wrapped firmly around his wand, arms shaking, unable to hold on to anything else.

Malana's eyes widened for only a second, the entire world around them exploding in vicious colors that assaulted the blue protection shields. The Muggle girl got a hold of herself quickly though. "I'll get this side! You get that side!"

Kally had already been laying on her stomach right by the compartment door, her gun out and aiming at the barricade, heart racing as the wind whipped her hair violently. "Oh no," she shouted sarcastically. "I thought I'd take a nap! It's so peaceful!" Aiming, looking down the long barrel nose's sights, she was barely able to hold her arms steady, let alone to get in a good shot. Every time the train jolted over a rough part of the tracks her arms bounced. She felt sick.

It'd been a very, very long time since she'd held a gun.

The train lurched, almost sending Kally sliding out of it, Dean's leg jerking and stopping her at the last second. Sucking in a frightened breath she looked back inside the train for a hold…

She hooked her foot through a metal bike holder within the compartment, that the only thing that would keep her from sliding out the open door. A second later she'd drug her free arm around Dean's ankle to keep him inside too.

She heard Malana shouting across the compartment for her to wait. They only had so much ammunition.

Gritting her teeth, looking around Dean's shaking leg as the wizard seriously struggled, Kally set her face quite literally on his shoe and set her sights on one of those things nearest the tracks up ahead. There were a lot. The train would have no problem mowing down several of them, but if a whole herd got onto the tracks…

"That many under the wheels and they'll derail us!" she shouted against the wind, hoping Malana would hear her.

"So shoot to keep them away from the tracks!" Malana threw back.

"Nawh, ya think?!" she snapped, sounding eerily like Dean who she'd clearly been spending too much time with.

Everyone else was silent, all their efforts and attentions on maintaining the shielding spells. She just hoped Fred and George would be able to blast the barricade out of the tracks' way.

Kally held, waiting….waiting another second more…

From the front engine she could hear Fred and George shouting, but could not make out their words. Their jobs were to just keep the train on the tracks, whatever it took. That would mean making sure rail junctions were realigned, that any blockades were blasted away, and that any Death Eaters didn't take the flammable engine out.

She waited another second more…

Then Kalliandra opened fire, the sound from her gun loud in her ears, thunderous. Malana's gun could not be heard, the silencing charm Ginny had placed on it working well.

It took Kally almost her entire first round to actually hit one of those things, her hold on Dean releasing for a second to reload.

This time they were closer, and her aim was better. Shooting under the shielding charm she saw a head explode. She shot another, then another, not caring if she actually killed them but just wanting to keep them away from the tracks. They had enough problems.

Up ahead a spell launched out from the front of the train, Fred or George throwing a blasting charm that cleared the tracks, sending any and all zombies and several metal barriers in their way flying.

The train flew through where the barricade had once been a second later, an almighty screeching screaming around them, tearing through the air. The barricade was nothing more than blur of dead, torn-up bodies, flipped vehicles and scattered debris.

The blur was behind them moments later, the train still rumbling feverishly.

By now everyone around them was screaming, the strain of maintaining their shielding charms as Death Eaters flew overhead, attacking, overwhelming them. "We're almost there!" Regulus bellowed. "Get ready to go!"

Kally clicked the safety of her gun back into place and slid it into the back of her jeans, scrambling back away from the doorway. She wasn't any use anymore. There was nothing outside the barricade left to shoot.

The train gave an almighty lurch, Dean teetering-

Her hand shot out and grabbed the back of his shirt, preventing him from sliding out. All around them the interior of the train was lit up in blinding, colorful lights, the curses exploding against the shielding charms creating a strobe light show. The volley of hexes was increasing, building in intensity, the Order members fatiguing-

Abruptly Tres' shielding charm faltered, then died.

Then Dean's sputtered out.

They had been protecting the same side of the train.

There protective bubble on half the compartment was gone. There was no protection. The next curse burst through, detonating against the wheels with a deafening BOOM.

Dean's body was catapulted backwards, slamming into her, their head's bashing into one another so hard that she saw black.

Kally didn't remember flying.

She did remember slamming into the opposite side of the train, her limbs tangled up with Dean's as an unearthly screech tore through the air, the rail tires torn from the tracks. The entire compartment suddenly lifted, tilting at an unnatural angle, the train still speeding forward on only one side of wheels.

Beneath the train the loud, booming sound of the axels cracking in half resonated, echoing so loudly eardrums were almost damaged.

For a tumultuous second she and Dean slid up the wall towards the ceiling, a bike rack breaking off and flying past. The iron frame of the train began tearing in half as if it were no more than paper between a child's hands, sunlight suddenly infiltrating the dark interior.

Orange-yellow sparks flew through the air as metal-struck-metal, a hand reaching for them, trying to snag them-

The sign telling the Muggle tourists to store their bikes safely caught on fire.

It all happened as if in slow motion.

The entire compartment leaned even more dramatically, debris sliding past at a violent pace, bashing into their side of the compartment. Pieces of torn off iron were striking everything, Dean's pained shout alongside her thunderous.

Through black spotted vision Kally caught sight of Regulus' hand shooting out, trying and missing them as the entire compartment gave another lurch in a new direction, Dean and Regulus flying away from her.

Kalliandra screamed.

She slid out of Regulus' reach, a piece of metal screaming and curling in towards her.

"Kal!"

She had enough time to recognize Dean's voice. There was enough time to realize that the outer wall of the train's car was caving in on them. There was enough time to hear someone screaming that they had to go. There was enough time to make out someone frantically shouting her and Dean's names.

Then a hole burst through the side of the compartment, a flurry of shrapnel flying in, a huge chunk of metal spearing the wall right next to her head with a metallic shriek. Gray smoke hurtled past and obscured her view of everyone else. The sounds of raining, crashing shrapnel attacked the air.

Dean crashed into the back of the compartment alongside her, something cracking, smoke swirling.

A second later her friend had half thrown himself on her, grabbing her in a bloodied vice to prevent her from being torn away again.

The train was no longer tilting.

It fully derailed with a massive SCREEEE.

And then the train flipped.

The next seconds stretched on for ages, as if the wizards around her had cast a spell to forcibly slow the progression of time.

Kalliandra desperately grabbed onto Dean back, screams in her ears – some were hers. Neither of them could apparate. There wasn't even time to be fully afraid.

Together they were thrown against what had once been the roof of the compartment, another spell pummeling the outside of it, followed by another, then another. A colorful fireworks display joined that of the sparks, the roof denting in heavily by their heads as the compartment slid out of control forwards, like a recently launched missile across the grounds of Dublin.

The train tumbled yet again, what was left of the compartment's wall twisting in with a violent crunch, cutting them off from the others as it was reduced to scrap metal.

The ring, the one she always wore around her neck, flew out from beneath her shirt, smacking her in the nose.

There were pops around them, Regulus shouting loudly from the other side of the twisted metal that now separated them, blocking them off.

Kally let go of Dean, snagging her ring, shoving her finger through it, turning…

She made a grab at Dean a second later.

There wasn't time to know if they were dead or not. All Kalliandra knew was that something bashed into her head and her world spun.

Everything went black, Kalliandra slipping into merciful oblivion.

The engine and compartment again rolled, landing on their roofs, screeching out of control across pavement before flipping, tumbling into a ditch, the metal twisting so grotesquely that it no longer resembled the quaint, tourist steam train it had once been.

Then the engine exploded.


ECOTS


It'd been five days. Five days since Kaylens and the others had left as a part of the Dublin retrieval team. Five days since he, Hermione, Ron, Dumbledore and Luna had gone into the Forbidden Forest to destroy the first horcrux Riddle ever created. Five days since they had succeeded. Five long, unbearable days since Luna had been hurt.

Harry squeezed Luna's hand, the witch remaining quiet, serene. She hadn't moved or awoken yet, but eventually would. Madame Pomfrey had all but promised him that in her many, many attempts to forcibly remove him.

Even Professor McGonagall had tried, but at the mere threat of training without Luna there, when it'd been his fault she was in here to begin with, all because he hadn't been able to protect her, he'd about snapped. Several of the candles illuminating the hospital wing actually had.

As the candles hit the floor, the burning wicks melting the wax into puddles, McGonagall had merely smiled tensely, sadly, assuring him that training could wait.

Luna had nearly died. She'd had multiple internal injuries, but fortunately none of them had killed her. Not the punctured lung, not the punctured pericardial sack – her broken rib had missed puncturing her actual heart by millimeters – and not the punctured diaphragm.

It was why she had been unable to breath for herself for the first three days.

Now those were all healed, Luna's body just needing to rest, to recover.

Madame Pomfrey still did not know when she would awaken.

Harry heaved a hard breath, reaching out and brushing an errant strand of hair out of her face. In between his fingers the tendril felt like pure silk, the color that of moonlight. Tucking it behind her ear, guilt daggered through him. Hogwarts had never been kind to her, but sleeping like she was…Merlin Luna was actually pretty.

Harry made a mental note to punch out the next bastard that hurt her. Better yet, he'd have Ron do it. His best mate had been itching to use his newfound werewolf strength on someone. Who better than the ones stealing Luna's textbooks?

Assuming Hogwarts was ever fully functioning again…

He felt like his insides were in a knot. Running his thumb numbly over the outside of Luna's hand, he looked outside. The hospital wing overlooked Hogwarts' expansive grounds, the place giving one hell of a view to its occupants: he ought to know, he'd been one of them enough times to remember.

An owl landed on the window's outer ledge, ruffling its feathers, snow flaking off. It hadn't snowed in days, but the grounds and owlery were still thickly covered from the last snowfall.

The owl had obviously gotten covered in it.

Watching it preen, grooming itself, Harry's mouth twitched ever-so-slightly.

And then he saw the red light.

Harry dropped Luna's hand like it had scalded him, shoving his chair back so fast it was knocked over.

Far out on the grounds, very near the lake, a flare had shot straight up, bright red in the daylight.

Then another shot sideways.

Harry felt suddenly sick.

It was a wizard's request for help. Urgent help.

"Madame Pomfrey!" he bellowed, the medi-witch already hustling out of her office. She too had seen the lights, the Hogwarts Healer ordering him to grab a bag of potions from the supply closet. She was gathering bags and bandages, the school Healer ready for anything.

Harry did as he was told, then he ran. Despite the sheer size of the castle and the hospital wing's location he was out on the grounds in mere minutes, Madame Pomfrey on his heels. She was moving with surprising swiftness for a witch her age, one of their conversations around Luna's bed now obvious.

She had been a healer in the last wizarding war, determined to help where she could. She had the speed to prove it.

Before Harry had always thought she was a bit slow moving.

The sound of Harry's feet smashing against the frozen over snow was muffled, the crunching of ice somehow benign. Given what he was running towards, it seemed like it should be louder.

In the distance Harry could now see a clustering of people, all of them moving, more than one of them screaming.

Breathing hard he didn't have the time to panic. The muscle within his chest thundered, lungs working hard. He should have grabbed his broom, but it'd been up in his dorm, locked up and not something he could have summoned quickly.

As he got closer he could make out shouting, a January wind tossing words at him. "Dean! NO! NO! YOU HAVE TO GET HIM! YOU HAVE TO GO BACK!"

Ginny was shouting, screaming almost incoherently, her red hair dangling in front of her face like an angered goddess of war, her wand leveled at Regulus. Neville was trying to drag her back, his dorm mate finally grabbing her around the waist and all but tackling her as she flung a curse at the Potion's Master.

Amarante lay on the ground, unmoving, a sickly yellow-tinted substance draining out of his ear, pooling on the once white snow. Blood rolled down his face, part of his scalp peeled back, and that was the least of his injuries.

Professor Gai was cursing, not even attempting to enervate him as he worked on his injuries, spells being cast at a frightening pace.

On the ground Fred Weasley was shouting profanities that would make even a sadist blush, the Weasley twin laying and writhing around on the snow in serious pain. George had both of his hands around a giant shard of green-painted metal that had impaled Fred's thigh, shouting for his twin to stop moving.

The spurting from Fred's femoral artery was powerful enough to still be pumping through the pressure applied by George's fingers. Several small chunks of metal stuck out of George's arm, but they went unnoticed as he tried to help his twin.

A girl Harry didn't recognize was collapsed on the ground beside them, her coffee-colored skin covered in smeared blood – blood that didn't appear to belong to her - as she tore pieces of a shirt in half, tugging them determinedly around Fred's leg in a makeshift tourniquet.

Her expression was contorting into one of severe pain, her ankle bent at a grossly unnatural angle as she worked.

The sound of Neville scuffling with Ginny, the frozen-over snow crunching beneath them, was surprisingly loud. A booming voice rose above Ginny's bellowed demands and Neville's attempt to forcibly calm her.

"You're hurt, Longbottom! CEASE MOVING!"

Remorselessly Regulus conjured ropes, his wand snapping out and sending them snaring around Ginny like a dozen angered vipers, one gagging her as Black dropped down to his knees alongside Neville, grabbing at his dorm mate's shirt.

Tiny hunks of metal littered Neville's entire side, his dorm mate seeing his own injuries and realizing it for the first time, paling.

Regulus was swearing violently when Harry reached them.

He didn't see the spell coming.

He did feel it.

It struck him not a meter from them, tearing his feet from the snow, catapulting him backwards at least four meters, slamming him into the snow with an impact hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

"Stay there, Potter!" Regulus Black ordered fiercely. "I will not have my ward contracting this!"

Harry balked, scrambling and staggering to his feet as Madame Pomfrey flew past, but another slash of Regulus' wand sent another set of ropes snaring out, this time twining around Harry's legs and knocking him back down.

The twine dug against his skin so hard that it actually cut as he struggled. Swearing loudly, he fought, hearing Professor Gai also shouting for them to all stay back. They were contagious. They could be carriers. "STAY BACK!"

Madame Pomfrey's response involved some profanities of her own, the words raunchy enough to make Professor Gai blush.

From his position on the ground, sideways in the snow, Harry writhed around like a worm, struggling to tear off his bonds. He could see Ginny doing the same. Regulus had thrown Neville onto his side, ordering him to hold still if he had even the most remote of desires to live, that causing Ginny to now scream for Neville.

A flick of the man's wand caused every tiny, metallic piece of iron sticking in Neville's flesh to come flying out, a thick, dark red blood welling out of the many wounds as his dorm mate shouted in pain.

Several of the metal shards, the things now laying in the snow within Harry's field of view, were long. Like knives…

Neville screamed.

Sirius' ghost ignored him, slamming one hand over the top of Neville's head to try to hold him still while he shoved his wand's smoldering tip directly into the first wound, the squelching sound as it slid inside enough to make one vomit, steam rising up from Neville's flesh.

Regulus was cauterizing the jagged punctures, sealing them off with the brutality of war triage so the Gryffindor would not bleed out before his adrenaline had even worn off.

The Potion's Master was already repeating the procedure when Harry broke free of the ropes, staggering back up-

"Harry NO!" This time it was Professor Gai, his hand held out and attention on him for a moment. "We could be infected, Harry. We are all cut, exposed. Please, stay back. The rest of the antidote was destroyed in the crash!"

The urgency in the DAD Professor's serious voice was damn shocking, Harry's feet crunching to an abrupt halt on the snow. Conflicting instincts warred within him. He wasn't stupid. He knew the plague was nothing good.

He also knew so many people he cared about right now were in trouble.

Part of him even wanted to demand what crash, but he doubted he'd get actual details right now.

Madame Pomfrey ignored the warning, the medi-witch already alongside Fred, George and the unidentified girl and working on Fred's leg. "Potter! The potions!" she ordered, making the decision for him.

Harry made a furious sound, ignoring Professor Gai and re-grabbing the bag he'd been carrying, bolting towards them. He tossed Pomfrey the bag, sliding down into the snow besides them-

An all new invisible force seized him, launching him up into the air and throwing him backwards, away from where Fred was bleeding out. Harry's back slammed into the snow, skidding, ice painfully getting up his nose.

Dumbledore had arrived, the man's blue-starred robes rustling around him as he reached the chaotic scene, looking around gravely. "He is right, Harry," the Headmaster stated, sounding off, "they may carry the infection with them."

The calm sounding voice amidst the chaos was something Harry once had found comforting.

Now he just snarled, shoving his fists into the snow and shoving himself up, looking at the scene. "I can help!" he snapped. "Can't you see how many of them are hurt!?"

And that was when he realized something.

Ginny had been screaming. She had been hysterical, so hysterical that she'd been trying to hex Regulus. So hysterical that Neville had tackled her despite his injuries. So hysterical that she was still fighting tooth and nail against the bonds Regulus had tied her up with.

She had been screaming Dean's name.

A phantom force punched him in the stomach.

Green gaze darting towards Ginny's face, he saw soot, blood, and something wet on her cheeks.

Dean wasn't there.

And neither was Kaylens.

Around Harry everything grew very still.

He suddenly couldn't move, frozen to the ground, having stopped halfway to his feet.

It, knowledge he already knew slithered sickeningly, nauseously through him. He felt the bile rising in his throat, something invisible choking him.

Everything around him had gone eerily silent, even though the screams went on, unabated, all around him.

Dean and Kaylens were not there.

"Where," he croaked, "is Kaylens?"

Near his feet a red stream had formed. Fred's blood spilled into the snow, the arterial red shockingly bright against the pure white, the ice crystals rapidly melting into slush, powerless against the warmth of the blood slicing a macabre stream through it.

He felt sick. The basilisk's venom had nothing on what now slithered through his own veins, Harry choking.

"Where," he barely forced, "is she?" His gaze darted desperately to Ginny, who had just freed her hands, ripping the gag from her mouth, his eyes catching hers. "Where's Dean, Ginny?"

The brown eyes of the first Weasley daughter in seven generations held his, her entire form shaking.

And in that moment Harry knew.

He didn't need Ginny to say anything.

Inside of him something irreparable broke.