Warning: Mature Content towards the end of the chapter. You all know what this is… If you'd like to skip it when you get to the last POV section skip that and go straight to the last few paragraphs. Also I haven't proofread this chapter yet due to time…I shall in the coming days but apologies for any typos.
"Within a near-death experience, life changes, love grows and the universe moves into another world. Don't question it, Harry."
~ Original by Petra Hermans with Harry Potter added.
Chapter 55 ~ Near Death
ECOTS
The hospital wing clock ticked soundlessly, Hermione having cast a permanent silencing charm on it.
They'd been back for three days.
Kally's head lay on the edge of Harry's bed, using his mattress and her folded arms as a makeshift pillow. She refused to move. She refused to leave. She wouldn't.
It was like her entire form had been stabbed repeatedly by needles, an awful electric current running through her, her fingers desperately clutching onto Harry's unresponsive hand. That familiar tingling though, the one that had been absent when his heart had ceased to beat, was back.
Only this time it was laced with something that utterly terrified her.
Harry had died.
Regulus and Pomfrey had spent the last twenty four hours slowly weening him off the ventilation charm, the one Regulus had cast back on that horrible island. It had been the only thing to keep him breathing in his weakened state, Kally's stomach clenching dangerously at the mere thought of what would have happened had the charm not existed.
Harry would still be dead.
She was unable to even contemplate it, her fingers instinctually squeezing his hand so hard it was a silent marvel she didn't injure him.
Harry'd had a hard time breathing on his own again. The damage…it'd been severe.
Saltwater drownings and a loss of pulse for as long as he'd had, before wizarding CPR had begun…they had the tendency to cause that. Regulus had already warned her that when he did wake that his heart would be weak, that it'd take time for the phoenix tears in him to heal it. It could take days, weeks, but it would heal.
Right now though it was still damaged, pumping far weaker than it normally should. A few magical buttons were stuck to his chest, the things meant to alert Madame Pomfrey and Regulus if anything went awry, if his pulse started to beat dangerously.
Then there was the terrifying possibility of brain damage.
Harry hadn't woken up yet.
He was breathing on his own again; that was something.
Her heart clenched painfully. Closing her eyes, she pathetically listened to the sound of him breathing. The steady in and out…in and out…
It comforted her.
It was insane; the fact that such a small sound could comfort her as much as it did. But Merlin be damned if she didn't need that sound. Both of her hands clutched at his, her index and middle fingers pressing gently against the pulse point beneath his wrist, feeling the steady throb of his heart pushing blood through his veins.
He was alive.
She still hadn't calmed down from nearly losing him.
The tips of her fingers slowly played across the back of his knuckles. His skin was warm now, that strange, familiar and aberrant tingling tracing a wicked path across her skin, anywhere it came into contact with his own.
That, more than anything, calmed her. When Harry had been dead, pulseless, the tingling had been absent.
Her thoughts continued to turn that knowledge, that fact over and over within her mind. When he'd been dead it'd been gone…
Harry had magic in him, magic he used all the time, without even realizing it.
He wasn't brain damaged. He was fine. He'd be fine, great even. Kally told herself this, despite the terror coursing through her.
"Harry," she whispered quietly, words a silent plea as she propped her chin on their intertwined hands to look at him, "you need to wake up. Please."
As usual he said nothing back, her stomach twisting in a painful dance. It was a silent waiting game.
Remus and Tonks had been by several times. Hell, Tonks had forcibly drug Remus away to force food on him.
Ron, Ginny and Fred had been sent home. Funeral arrangements were underway. Their help was needed.
Hermione, Neville and Luna had been there with her, refusing to leave just like her, at least most of the time. They too had finally wandered off to get food, Tonks' threatening wand having prompted that decision.
Kally had sent Tonks a look that promised nothing good if she so much as even tried to coerce her out, and the Auror had wisely not even tried.
They'd all promised to be back shortly.
She hadn't left since she'd woken up herself, two days ago. She had no intention to. She wouldn't.
She'd woken up to a nightmare.
Remus…he'd survived, as had Mad Eye Moody. They'd been found floating on a blown up life raft, just outside the stormy sea barrier. The daggering relief she'd felt was unspeakable.
Mr. Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt had not been so lucky. They were dead, one having drowned after being rendered unconscious by spell fire, the other succumbing from a killing curse.
Fleur Delacour had been taken by the Death Eaters.
Bill and Diggles were dead.
Dumbledore was gone, his body unrecovered.
Professor Gai was also dead.
While her and Harry had been unconscious, the group had tried to leave the island. When Harry had killed the horcrux the dark magic powering it, the awful magic that had prevented wand magic from working, had snapped like a twig.
Wand magic had suddenly worked again. It was how Harry was even alive right now. Without it…
Kally couldn't even think about that.
The group should have realized not all the island's dark magic was dead, given some of the inferi had survived the horcrux's death and Dumbledore's explosion, but they hadn't.
The surviving Order members had thought they could apparate out, past the writhing, churning sea.
They'd been wrong.
Professor Gai had splinched himself, severely.
Killing the horcrux had removed the dark magic powering the island, but thirteen of them had given a blood sacrifice to get onto the island in the first place. And blood magic…
It did not negotiate.
It did not forget.
It had demanded a sacrifice, a death, before any whose blood had been donated could leave.
It hadn't mattered that so many of them had already died. What mattered was that it wanted a blood letting, right there and then, from one of the survivors.
They'd spared her the details. Kally wasn't certain she wanted the details. All they'd told her was that Professor Gai – poor, sweet, jovial Professor Gai- in his severely injured state – broken leg, splinched, in severe pain – had thrown himself into a churning vortex of ocean water in an act of sheer bravery before any discussion could even be had.
Only then had they been able to actually leave, the stormy sea suddenly calming, allowing them passage.
Over a third of those who had gone on the mission had not come back.
Kally buried her face against the mattress, her eyes clenched, burning. So many of them were dead, gone. Diggles…they'd fought side-by-side at the Battle of Grimmauld, the wizard getting struck with a spell that had made him incessantly giddy. He'd been landing pirouettes and ballerina jumps whilst dueling amidst the rubble.
He'd also brazenly refused to relinquish that insane hat of his to Madame Pomfrey afterwards, wearing that purple, towering monstrosity the entire time he'd been in the hospital wing.
Professor Gai….the idea of him suddenly being gone felt wrong.
It felt wrong on so, so many levels. One moment he'd been fine, and then the next…
She'd woken up, and he was gone.
Kally let out a small sound, muffling it in the mattress. Her eyes continued to burn, something wet in them. She couldn't do this. Potter had warned her; he'd warned her so many times she'd lost count, but she couldn't do this. He had to-
Something squeezed her hand.
Her unsteady breaths abruptly stilled. Her head was still buried wetly against the mattress, her hands blindly clutching against Harry's. Her entire form began to tremble, Kally afraid to move, afraid to look up.
Slowly, with painstaking care, she felt Harry's fingers move, tightening firmly against her own.
Kally let out a muffled sob, her head jerking up.
For the first time in three days Kally found that utterly infuriating shade of green, a green that could only belong to him, staring back. Harry's eyes were barely open, but they were open.
The wizard looked exhausted, but a familiar, callused thumb brushed over the back of her hand anyway. Recognition flickered within his gaze, recognition that wouldn't be there if he'd been brain damaged, recognition she needed.
For a second she could only stare at him, disbelieving. Harry was awake, looking at her, the slightest hint of a smirk touching his lips.
For the fourth time his fingers moved, the rough calluses scraping against her skin, his fingers firmly interlacing between her own.
Her heart stopped beating.
"Hey," he hoarsely greeted.
Kally stared at him as if he'd spoken a foreign language.
Unrestrained, unabashed amusement flashed within his tired gaze, as if he knew something she didn't.
Kally felt like her chest was on fire. It was painful. Even her eyes physically hurt. "Hey?" she softly repeated. It was like she couldn't breathe, the little air she was drawing in coming too fast, too shallow.
His jaw line turned subtly. "Yeah," he grated, voice rough with disuse, "hey." His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, moving on its own. He was breathing on his own. So many had died. So many. But not him.
Kally's eyes burned, literally unable to breathe.
Harry's malachite gaze flickered over hers. "Kal?"
She threw herself at him.
Kally was on him, her knees sinking into the mattress. Harry grunted, startled. His bare chest practically radiated heat against her as she slid over him, Kally making sure not to crush it, not to put any pressure anywhere but his hips and legs, terrified-
She had his unshaven face in her hands, fingers sliding into his hair, her mouth pressing desperately to his. The rough, dark stubble from several days growth scraped against her lips, rendering her unable to think.
Kally kissed him like he was the first and only man left in existence.
It took the wizard a second, then Harry grabbed onto her with a pained groan, his grip weaker than she'd have liked, yet he was touching her, kissing her back, Kally still barely able to breathe. It didn't matter. She didn't need to.
But Harry did.
She could be suffocating him.
She yanked back at the realization, panting, her tangled hair hanging down in his face. Lips swollen, Harry's hair a dark mess, it was all she could do to restrain herself as she let out a half-hysterical breath. "Hey?" she demanded. "You try to die on me and all you can say is hey?"
Harry wheezed on a pained laugh, a callused grip rising along her spine, her shirt bunching up beneath his grip as his fingers clenched tight. "Well," he croaked, "didn't know if it was morning or not. So…"
She choked on an upset laugh, nudging his nose with hers, their brows thudding against one another's.
Kally was being careful, so careful, not putting any pressure on his ribs. The muscle beating beneath them, within his chest, was too sodding important to risk that. She needed it to keep working, for as long as sodding possible. Her fingers slid gently down his chest, careful to not remove any of the cardiac monitor buttons Pomfrey had stuck against his skin, unable to help herself.
He was alive; he was sodding alive and okay.
Beneath her Harry deliberately moved, his hand finding her hair. The way he moved…it was like he didn't know her, like he was doing it for the first time, taking his time as if he hadn't done this a thousand times before.
His fingers moved through it with a painstaking slowness that sent shivers through her.
She watched the hard part of his throat rise and fall in a thick swallow. The way his gaze raked over hers, something raw, undiluted, and rough within those viridian irises…
"Harry…" she murmured. Unable to stop herself, her mouth was once more pressed against his lips, moving slowly, gently. She wanted to snog the sodding breath from him. She wanted nothing more than to make him pant, groan,moan her name like he had in the locker room, to assure herself that he was in fact alive and awake, but she couldn't. She couldn't hurt him.
So Kally kissed him; she kissed him slowly.
The hand that had been in her hair clenched weakly, as if his grip lacked the strength to do his worst. Kally's chest clenched, knowing why. And still…his hips shifted against her, a pained groan from his ordeal sending her trying to tug back, only for Harry's fingers to tighten upon her, silently begging, conveying his request for her to stay.
Harry was in pain. Kally's chest tightened at the realization, for she could feel it. Her own ribs were throbbing, almost itching….
Kally's burning gaze flew open, finding his clenched shut. "Merlin," she whispered in horror. "I hurt you." She started to move-
"Don't," he groaned, the feel of his hips beneath hers reminding her of just how very alive he could be. "Just…don't leave." Harry's brow was creased with heavy lines, a conflicted shadow passing through his eyes as they flickered over her face.
Kally wanted to cry. She wanted to break down and sob unrestrainedly on him. Her eyes burned. Her chest burned. Her stomach twisted. Something wet was on her face.
She didn't know if she should move, get off him or not. Her entire form was trembling, eyes burning, heart pounding unbelievably fast as she could only watch him back.
Harry looked pained, an apprehension she'd never seen on his expression suddenly present. "It's okay," he croaked, his arm weakly sliding around her back. "I'm right here." His fingers attempted to clench against her spine, the subtle pressure so, so much weaker than normal…
Kally let out a half-sob, unable to stop herself. He was reassuring her. He'd died, yet he was calming her.
Neither spoke, just staring at one another. She breathed unsteadily, watching him do the same. Her fingertips flexed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath them. Harry didn't stop her. Instead…
He drug a hand into her hair, and this time it was him who sealed the scant space between them. His mouth moved against hers in impossibly slow, needing fashion. He kissed her as if they'd just met, pouring everything into it, as if he wanted to explore everything about her unknown lips, for he may never get the chance again.
Kally let him.
Tugging his lower lip between her teeth, she felt his low groan beneath her face. She released it, bowing her head, catching her breath. Her hands were no longer under her control, unable to stop sliding delicately over him, needing to touch every sodding centimeter.
Harry's mouth moved, forming a soul-wrenching question against her lips. "Kally," he gasped gutturally, "what happened?"
Something sharp gutted her insides. He didn't know…
Her eyes flickered over him, drinking in the sight. "You died," she choked. Hands abandoning his hair, chin, they slid to his chest. She wanted, needed to feel his heartbeat, to feel it working, pumping on its own, without Regulus having to do it for him.
A choked sound emitted from his throat. "Figured." Then he released a shuddering breath, gaze clenching as he managed, "The others?"
"No." Instantly she had her mouth pressed back to his, their noses bumping up against one another. "Not now. Please," she practically begged. So many had died, and right now…
Right now she didn't want to tell him anything badly, not until Regulus and Pomfrey had gotten back. If his heart was weak she didn't want to be the one to tell him Dumbledore had died, that Mr. Weasley was dead. That Tres and Bill and Diggles and Kinglsey all hadn't made it.
Beneath her he subtly tensed…
Then Harry's hands rose slowly along the contours of her form, brushing against the sides of her breast, finally finding either side of her face. For a second they just remained there, breathing shakily, his thumbs sliding across her cheekbones.
Then he was nodding against her, understanding what she didn't want to say. Her breath hitched, Harry's doing the sodding same.
He found her mouth, the pressure harder, stronger, more urgent.
She loved him. She had nearly lost him. But she hadn't. He was right here, lips roaming over hers.
"I love you," she whispered, not stopping, "so sodding much."
Against her he shifted, every line of his face twisting in pain. His hands tightened upon her, preventing her from leaving. She wouldn't wrench away, she wouldn't leave him. Not if he didn't want her to. "I know," he croaked, grimacing. His gaze cracked, raking over hers, something wryly amused glinting within it. "You're not going to make me say it, are you?"
She choked on a laugh, Harry's jaw turning as he watched her for a long, long moment.
Then he tilted his head against hers, breathing hard, murmuring, "Kally…how did-"
She shook her head against him. "No, please. I-" Voice upset, she divulged, "You died. You promised. You promised you wouldn't, and then you-"
He cut her off with his lips, his mouth pressing firmly to hers for a brief, mind-numbing moment. "I'm sorry," he croaked, hands raking through her hair. She could feel his heart thundering beneath her hands, his voice a raw wound. "I swear to God I'm sorry."
It felt like her heart would beat out of her chest. "No you're not," she scolded. She knew him. He took brash sodding risks like it was sport. Her hands roamed, giving in to the need to touch, taste, feel him.
His lips parted, Kally cutting him off. "Merlin…" she whispered in quiet threat, "later I'm going to hex you. So, so badly…"
She could see something in his eyes, something unrestrained and raw. "Suppose I have it coming?"
Kally let out a broken laugh, sniffling. She didn't care if this was her or not. She didn't care that she was openly crying. She didn't care how uncharacteristic this was. She didn't care that she was getting his face wet. She only cared about the fact that he was actually alive.
It was a long while until either spoke again. Kally remained where she was, perched on his bed, straddling his hips, whilst Harry ran his hands through her hair, down her back, kissing her softly. He was in pain, but he didn't seem to care. It wasn't until they'd stopped kissing, their brows pressing firmly together, the two just breathing against one another's skin that his lips parted, a strange question falling forth.
"So…I actually died died then?"
Her hair cascaded around them in a tangled mess. "What other kind of dead is there?"
A low sound emitted from Harry's throat, as if amused.
Hazel eyes flashed. "It's not funny, Harr-"
"I know," he whispered swiftly, meaningfully, cutting her off before she could argue.
She could only look back, the darker flecks of green within his eyes intoxicating. "Good," she managed, unable to utter anything else. For a long, long moment they just hovered there, looking at one another, her leaning over him, he beneath. She'd almost lost him; Harry had almost lost his life.
What they were doing, holding each other so sodding close, would never have happened again. That cold, cruel near-reality was sinking in.
"I'm sorry," he finally managed. Then he leaned his head back against the pillow, grimacing. "Guess that explains why my chest feels like it's been trampled by a hippogriff at least." His hands slowly slid down to her hips, Kally suddenly sitting up, looking down at him with blatant concern. She didn't get up, nor make a move to get off, but…
She couldn't take being that close to him while they talked about this.
She could still see how he'd limply laid there, still feel the way his cold lips had remained unresponsive beneath her own.
Harry cracked a questioning eye at her, waiting.
She had to talk. "Yeah," she confirmed, throat tight. "That…that was Dean." Her hazel gaze darted away from his, staring off at the blank expanse of a white-painted hospital wing wall. "Dean and I…we started working on you until Regulus swam back."
"You had to…"
Nodding shakily, she whispered on a barely audible breath, "Yeah."
The horrified tilt to his tone remained, his gaze clenching tight. "Kally…" Raw agony was in his voice. "You shouldn't have had to-"
Kally's gaze flew back to his. "Well, what did you want us to do?" she questioned, incredulous. "Just let you lay there until Regulus swam back?" She sucked in a shaky breath. "In case you haven't noticed Harry, bit invested in you. You dying would have been seriously inconvenient."
His gaze cracked open at that, features crafted into a careful, out-of-place smirk. "Inconvenient?" he breathed. "Oh, is that all?"
She hissed an angered breath.
Harry's hands moved up her sides, discontented with staying still. "I'll take that as a no," he countered, jaw line turning ever-so-slightly. His malachite gaze observed her, Kally unable to reconcile the sudden anger she had with him with the relief, fear, and the unbelievable urge to sob.
"It's not funny, Harry."
The subtle smirk remained, but his gaze softened. "I know." Harry just shook his head, almost thoughtfully. "So…Regulus did bring me back then," he grated, wincing. "Damn…guess that means I'll have to actually thank him for the follow-through."
With the exception of their voices, the hospital wing had been eerily silent, empty. There was no ticking from the clock. No sounds from other occupants, as there were none. No voices from students drifting in from the halls, as the school was ghostly, near abandoned. Even Madame Pomfrey was gone, retrieving potion supplies from the dungeons.
Despite this, at the words follow-through it all somehow got quieter.
Kally's eyes flickered desperately over his, a pit in her stomach, hoping he couldn't possibly have meant what it sounded like. "What do you mean by follow-through?"
His fingers clenched against her spine. "Black and I…we talked, before…just in case." He swallowed thickly. "I didn't think I would make it out."
It took Kalliandra several seconds to comprehend what Harry was saying to her. When she finally did her heart was racing without her consent. "Harry…what happened exactly?"
Harry didn't apologize. He didn't deflect. He didn't lie. He just met her gaze with his, even in his current sodding condition.
"The horcrux was the entire ship, Kally," he relayed, reminding her, his voice unbelievably lowered. "We had to get to the heart to kill it." The line of his mouth grew drawn, eyes haunted. "It was deep inside, and we didn't exactly have bubble head charms, so…"
Kally's throat felt suddenly dry, her stomach wrenching as he uttered the final words: "It was a one way trip."
Kally was sitting on Harry, straddling his hips, both of her hands splayed out carefully across his chest. The words one-way trip echoed in her mind, the realization coldly sinking in.
One-way...
Her disbelieving whisper was so quiet it might as well have been uttered by a ghost.
"You knew you were going to drown..."
Regret was in his gaze. "Yeah," he disclosed. "Not a fish so….kind of figured I would."
The implications of what he had just said…this hadn't just been some terrible accident. This hadn't been an unavoidable injury in battle. Harry had willingly sacrificed himself to take out a piece of Voldemort's soul, knowing he'd probably die.
"You kind of figured…" she repeated flatly.
Her throat felt tight.
She tried to move-
Harry's hands instantly tightened upon her waist, his malachite gaze raking desperately over her. "Kal, please…"
Had she not been so upset, so gutted, she might have heard the note of panic in him. She might have realized how utterly afraid he was that she'd walk out on him, leave him. Only she didn't hear it. She didn't notice it. She just stared at him, her lips parting, chest aching.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. She wanted to shake him and make him promise that he'd never do that again.
But she couldn't; he'd just woken up.
He'd died.
Kally closed her eyes, scared to look at him, scared of what she might do, of what she might say, of what he might see. Her skin tingled with emotion, with the sensation of Harry's hands upon her.
Harry had died. Her fingertips flexed against his strong chest, his bare skin sending fissures through her.
It was always him. Always. At Hogsmeade he'd gone out first. At the Battle of Grimmauld he'd walked out when the killing curse had been getting thrown liberally around. He'd attacked the forest's horcrux first. He'd went after the ship alone.
"Why does it always have to be you?" she demanded, voice so quiet it was dangerous. "Why is it always you?"
Harry's hold on her disappeared, his familiar grip finding where her hands rested against his chest, wrapping tightly around them. "You know why, Kally," he told lowly, seriously. "You know I'm the only one who can hear them, and…" he swallowed thickly, "we weren't getting off that island without killing it first."
"There's always," she whispered, "another way. You don't always have to play the sodding hero."
He held her gaze steadily. "There wasn't."
Her lips parted to counter that, but nothing came out. Her voice choked off, Kally unable to handle this. "You promised me, Potter…"
He visibly winced at the sudden use of his surname. "I know," he forced brokenly. "I'm sorry."
Kally wanted to leave. She wanted to slide right off him and leave. He'd lied. He'd lied about trying to stay alive. He'd gone and gotten himself killed. He'd done so intentionally. She didn't sodding care what noble, self-sacrificing reason he might have had. He'd still died.
Still she couldn't force herself to move, though she wanted to.
He was going to die. He was going to get himself killed. She knew that now, more acutely than ever. Something wet rolled down her face, her entire form trembling violently.
His gaze raked fearfully over her. "I love you, Kally."
No messing with words. No false promises. Just four words…
She clenched her gaze tight. "I know," she whispered affectedly. His hands clenched against hers, desperately. He started to breathe something, only stopped, Kally just shaking. She shook like a leaf in a storm, the reality sending her quaking.
She opened her eyes. He was looking right back, fear there.
"Okay," she forced quietly. "Okay."
Whatever it was, whatever he'd done….
It could wait. It could wait for when he hadn't just woken up. It could wait for when she wasn't still utterly broken from nearly losing him. It could wait until she knew his heart could physically take it.
It could wait.
Her eyes locked with Harry's green gaze…
A moment later she was kissing him, her fingers raking gently down his chest, Harry's groan ghosting against her lips.
They remained like that on the hospital wing bed, lips roaming over one another's, hers eventually moving to his neck. His pulse beat swiftly beneath her lips, Kally feeling his throat move as he tried to talk, again trying to ask what happened to the others.
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
"Kally…" he tried yet again, urgency on the whispered word. "What about the others…did they-"
"Dead," she choked, head jerking up, looking him in the eyes. "A lot of us are dead, Harry."
All of his movements, ministrations upon her stopped. A shadow passed through his eyes, face hardening. The movement of his mouth over hers was missed, Kally pressing her brow to his with a needing hiss.
Suddenly the wizard she was in love with was raking his hands down her sides. "Who?" he choked, as if afraid to hear.
She trembled in his grip. "Please Harry…"
"Who?"
She shook. Then she told him.
Harry made a choking sound. It was like a raw wound had been exposed. He asked about the others: Ron, Hermione, Luna, Neville, Tonks, Remus…
She told him that too.
Harry lay there, beneath her, processing all of it, Kally terrified she'd break him, that he might be too weak for this.
Then he'd grabbed her, taking out his despair on her. His mouth all but assaulted her, an unbidden moan escaping at the feel of his lips against her neck. She could barely take it, his hips shifting, grinding against hers-
Her lips found his ear. "I'm so sorry, Harry…" Dumbledore, Mr. Weasley, Bill…
He let out a choked grunt, the wizard shaking.
Neither of them said anything else. They abruptly stopped, lips and bodies pressing together but unmoving. Finally…
"I think I dreamt this…"
She didn't ask what. She didn't ask why. She just silently accepted it, nodding against him. If he wanted to, he could tell her. For now though…
Harry's hands held onto her like she was the most cherished sodding object he'd ever laid hands on. He kissed like he'd never kissed her before. He kissed with abandon, with his whole being. He kissed like he fought. He kissed like he dueled. He held nothing back, Kally feeling fissures breaking through her.
Neither heard the hospital wing door when it swung open, Madame Pomfrey balancing a myriad of potion vials on her way in.
The mediwitch looked up, her mouth flapping soundlessly.
Harry's hands slid over her sides, Kally unable to think of anything but him, of what they were doing, of the fact that he was alive.
A shriek worthy of a drill sergeant tore through the room. "Ms. Kaylens! We do not make a habit of tackling our patients!"
Kally didn't care. She ignored her. She continued kissing Harry, and Harry continued kissing her right back.
Another voice broke through the room, one much more familiar: Dean's.
"Oh Merlin, not this again."
Despite everything going on, despite the deaths, despite the near deaths, despite the unbelievable amounts of upset coursing through them both, the two teenagers released shaky breaths against each other's lips, the saddest of smirks tugging at their mouths.
"Better if we just come back later, Madame Pomfrey. Those two…this'll be awhile," Dean assured, Madame Pomfrey's feet echoing on the stone as she began to stomp over.
Still Harry and Kally did not break apart.
This was war.
They had to take what they could get, no matter the losses.
It was going to be hell. A detention or twenty would hardly be a problem. It'd be worth it.
A head of impossibly blonde hair, like moonlight, followed by a curly-haired head of brown suddenly flew past Madame Pomfrey and into the room, Dean making a protesting sound, lamenting how no one, absolutely no one ever bothered to listen to him.
The two witches slammed into Harry from either side around them. Her wizard made a protesting sound, their lips breaking apart as Luna and Hermione attempted to squeeze the life from him. Harry's eyes had flown open, a shadow of something in his gaze that made her think he knew something he wasn't sharing, and whatever it was…
She was wryly amused.
Kally merely pulled back, slowly sliding off him to allow Luna and Hermione access. And still…
Harry flat out refused to let go of her hand, clenching onto it as if he needed her more than he needed sodding air. Kally was shaking far too much to even try to protest.
"Leave it to you to wake up when no one's around," Neville greeted, walking up, also having ignored Dean.
A second later Remus and Tonks were there, Madame Pomfrey still shouting at both Harry and her for the 'desecration of hospital wing beds.' Kally's gaze held Harry's as he quietly reassured Hermione that he was there, alive, and fine. In the background Remus was telling Madame Pomfrey that there was this tricky thing going on with a war bond, and that if she wanted Harry to heal that kicking her out of the hospital wing would be rather bad, since he'd heal better when his magic was stronger.
Kally heard the exchange, a curiosity rising within her, but she vowed to ask about it later.
For now she concentrated on the feeling of Harry's hand within hers, of the feel of his warm fingers clenching between hers, and on the many, many ways in which she was going to kick his ass the second he was well enough to stand up on his own.
ECOTS
Harry's bed was empty, his hand stretching out over the mattress' surface. The spot where Kally had been was still warm, his gaze clenching as his fingers curled into the blanket where she'd been sleeping alongside him for the past day and a half.
She'd left to go shower, Madame Pomfrey having finally chased her out to take care of herself for at least an hour.
He already acutely missed her; Harry was well aware of just how off the deep end he'd gone with her. He'd been awake for over twenty four hours now, but with her there he'd been able to shove the cold realities to a dark, forgotten corner of his mind.
Now, with her gone, they came rushing to the forefront full force.
Mr. Weasley was dead.
Dumbledore was dead.
Professor Gai was dead.
Bill was dead.
Kingsley was dead.
Diggles was dead.
The funerals started tomorrow. Ron and Ginny had lost their brother, their dad. Despite that, knowing this Harry felt oddly hollow. The anger he'd expected was absent. The anger he felt at Dumbledore was oddly missing. He'd numbly accepted the news, his lack of reaction surprising.
Sometime last night, whilst Kally had slept, Madame Pomfrey sending disapproving looks from where she'd taken up residence in her office to ensure 'no funny business' happened, he'd started to remember things.
He'd dreamt.
He'd dreamt about Sirius.
He'd been in a 'waiting room.' Dumbledore should have been there, crossing over. Only in his dream he hadn't been. Sirius had shot him a knowing grin, as if he were privy to some particularly complicated prank that Harry wasn't in on, before implying that being dead for the others…that it wasn't that bad. They'd see them again, after all.
It'd been so damn real, the things he'd seen in it…Kally had confirmed they'd actually happened. Thing was, he'd been dead at the time, so how could he have known? How could he have incorporated them into a dream?
He wondered if it had been real.
"Hello Harry."
He opened his eyes to find Luna standing there, right in front of where he sat, a gentle smile on her ivory face. In the windows behind her rain streaked down the glass panes, the gentle downpour relaxing.
It was like nature was crying with them.
Harry afforded her a weak smile. "Hey Luna."
She inclined her head towards his mattress, where his feet normally were when he wasn't sitting up with his knees drawn to his chest. "May I?"
After all these years he couldn't help but be amazed at her hesitance, her unsure politeness, even amongst friends. "You don't have to ask, Luna," he told. "You can always sit." He said the last syllable pointedly, hoping she'd finally grasp that she was always welcome, wherever he was.
Part of him wanted to find whomever had ever made her feel like she wasn't, so he could introduce them to the business end of his wand.
People were right bastards though; he'd known that his whole life.
She smiled, jumping up onto the mattress by his feet, sitting cross legged. Harry just shook his head with a smile, his back pressing against the bed frame. He had sat up as soon as Kally had left; he'd slept long enough.
"Kally said you were alone, so I thought you could use some company," she said simply, studying him softly. "I wasn't sure if you would be okay, once Kally was gone."
Harry blinked at her, confused. He didn't voice his question though and instead raised an eyebrow.
A strand of Luna's blonde hair slipped out from behind her ear, her blue eyes sparkling. "When she's around you do better, Harry," she said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.
It was unbelievably on point. Harry actually let out a half-laugh, his chest screaming with pain from the slight emotion. "Yeah, really do don't I?" he observed aloud, wincing. The closer she'd been the better he'd felt. Remus had claimed it was because his magic was stronger when she was near. It'd allow the remnants of phoenix tears within him to do their healing work more swiftly.
Apparently they lost their potency once inside a human, before the process was complete.
No one knew where Fawkes actually was though.
When he was dying, Kally had had to tell them he was bonded to a phoenix to save him. Regulus had wanted to stop working on him, believing him a lost cause. Kally hadn't delved into details, but…he had a vague, rippling recollection of her shouting in Regulus' face, clutching his hand, begging for them to continue.
He'd dreamt it.
It'd been real.
It was yet another reason he was in love with the girl.
His green gaze fixed upon Luna's, something occurring to him. "Hey Luna," he questioned quietly, the hospital wing temporarily empty. "Have you ever heard of…of people dreaming about their deaths?" Ever since the images had begun to fill his head, he'd wondered…
He hadn't mentioned it to Kally, but Luna…
Luna would never think he was crazy.
The Ravenclaw observed him curiously. "Of course, Harry. You died, it only makes sense you'd dream of it."
Only Luna would think that made perfect sense, Harry's mouth twitching slightly.
"Yeah but…the thing is," he tried, glancing towards Pomfrey's office to make sure the door wasn't propped open and that she wasn't listening, "some of the things I dreamt about…they actually happened. I just-I couldn't have known about them at the time."
Then, to his incredulous amazement, his friend tilted her head and smiled. "You were in the waiting room, weren't you?"
His jaw about dropped, the image of Sirius leaning back with a cocktail as he called it a waiting room entering his mind. "Yeah," he breathed, "but how-"
"I've been there as well, Harry."
Rain continued to pour down outside, the pattering so peaceful, a stark contrast to the words she'd just uttered. "What?"
Luna's blue gaze, depths extending beneath like an iceberg beneath the arctic's surface, met his patiently. "I've been there before, Harry. My mother died in a potion's accident. You didn't think that I could have been close enough to the resulting explosion to see her pass, and not have been hurt myself, do you?"
Harry's mouth flapped wordlessly. Luna had died. He desperately tried to wrap his mind around that, but every fear he had inside rose up at the merest thought.
He swallowed each and every single one of them down.
Luna just smiled serenely, oblivious to his thoughts. "It is real, you know, if that's what you're wondering," she assured. "You didn't imagine it. It's a very real place."
Both Harry and Luna grew silent, sitting together on the hospital wing bed. It was one of the things he liked about Luna: he never felt the need to fill silences, for they were never awkward. His eyes moved towards the window, looking out it unseeingly. If it was real…then he'd actually talked to Sirius, and if he'd actually talked to Sirius…
Then Dumbledore might not be dead.
It explained why he'd been so unnaturally calm about the whole thing.
"Who did you see?" Luna's voice broke quietly into his thoughts. "If you don't mind me asking?"
His throat temporarily constricted. "Sirius."
"Oh." Her eyes widened, wiggling her toes in his sheets. "How is Stubby Boardman? Is he still making music?"
Harry let out a choking laugh. Making music… "Yeah Luna," he croaked, "he is." Making music….
Death wasn't the end.
But if it had all been real, than everything he'd seen in it wasn't his mind filling in blanks, creating a visual to go along with facts he'd overheard while unconscious, or upon awakening. No. It'd all actually happened.
Swallowing, his gaze darted towards the hospital wing door, then back towards Madame Pomfrey's office. He had to talk to Kally...
"She'll be back, Harry," Luna said softly. "Did you need something? I can go get it."
His gaze shifted to the Ravenclaw, every sodding centimeter of her looking like a woodland nymph that had stepped out of a dream world. Her hair was nearly as silver as Fleur's, such a stark contrast from Kally's gold.
When they were together it was like looking at opposite ends of a spectrum.
And Luna apparently thought he couldn't last five minutes without her, without needing reassurance.
He shot her a bemused look. "You know, I can watch out for myself for longer than a few minutes."
Luna smiled knowingly. "Can you though?" she questioned skeptically. "You do get into a lot of things when left alone you know."
He sputtered, chest twinging rawly. His ribs had healed from Dean doing Muggle CPR on him, but the internal damage took considerably longer to heal, even with Pomfrey's potions. "You're implying I need supervision?"
She met his gaze unapologetically. "Yes," she told. "Besides, Harry, it's always better to have friends near, isn't it?"
The witch had the capability of saying things so profoundly deep, without even knowing it, that he was continually winded. "Yeah," he agreed breathlessly, studying her. "Yeah, it really is."
And that was when he heard a scuttling, Harry's gaze jerking up to the ceiling, the wizard grabbing blindly at the nightstand for his wand-
Luna, for her part, just looked up and frowned, as if completely unsurprised to see what he was seeing, for hanging from the ceiling were several birds of iridescent black. The feathers were so shiny they glinted with unnatural blues, purples and greens, as if the world could not quite pick a color to assign to them. Their claws seemed to glimmer in and out of existence, Harry unable to get a good look at them even though he was staring straight up, their sharp talons sunk into the hospital wing's ceiling, where they hung upside down like bats. It was like the laws of the world had been flipped upside down to suit their own purposes, their blood red beaks snapping as if in deep thought.
Harry had never seen anything like them before in his life.
"He's not dying today you know," she said calmly. "You should just go ahead and shoo."
Harry's head jerked back down, staring at her. "You mean you know what those are?" he blurted.
Luna cast one last frown up at the ceiling, the clacking of beaks still resonating loudly in the hospital wing. "Of course."
Harry had to suppress the sudden urge to shout. Instead he managed a barely controlled, "And?"
Luna just blinked, looking confused at his distress. "Kogas. You can only see them if you've died and come back." She shrugged, glancing back up to send them a sour look. "Though just hanging there like they expect you to keel over at any moment….it's awfully rude of them, don't you think?"
Harry's mouth flapped soundlessly for a good thirty seconds. "Keel over?" he repeated dully. "What exactly are they?"
His friend sent him a look that clearly said she was sad over his lack of knowledge on the subject. "Ferriers of souls. Daddy says they're always halfway between both worlds, so accompany us when we leave or come back." Luna suddenly frowned. "Poor things. Can you imagine, not being able to see your own feet all the time because they were in the afterlife?" She gave an artful shudder, while Harry just stared.
After an indeterminable silence Harry managed to make his vocal chords operate. "Luna, those other creatures you talk about….do you have to have already died to see them to?"
"Some of them," she responded with immediacy, sending him a questioning look. "Why?"
Harry nearly choked, realizing that Hermione would think he was a total nutter the first time he laid eyes on a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Despite that…
Harry wasn't alone.
Sirius still existed somewhere. His parents were still out there. Cedric; Bill; Mr. Weasely, who had been like a father to him; Diggles; Dumbledore; and Kingsley were all still out there.
Luna had seen it too.
Looking back up at the ceiling, seeing some of the birds flickering in and out of existence, he thought that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't so crazy after all; she really did see things the rest of them couldn't.
On an impulse Harry reached out and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. Luna just smiled, squeezing his hand right back, all the while making shoo-ing sounds at the birds.
To their stubborn credit, they absolutely did not listen. Harry though….
He did.
"Hey Luna," he questioned quietly, "in the waiting room…what did you talk about?" The most important thing to her. His jade gaze swept her face, his recently damaged heart pounding in his chest as she met his eyes.
"Friends," she responded honestly. "How I wanted to someday have friends." Somehow, when she said it, the heartbreaking statement didn't sound as sad.
It still affected him down to the core, Harry interlacing his fingers with hers tight. "Well you've got me."
The younger Ravenclaw smiled at him, her smile bright enough to light up a darkened room. "I know, Harry. You have me too."
They remained like that until Hermione returned, his best friend carrying an entire basket of muffins and biscuits and other assorted 'heart healthy' foods that she'd nicked from the Great Hall, all the while levitating books behind her.
When her brown eyes looked up and sighted upon he and Luna, the way she smiled at the younger girl, one whom he knew for a fact she thought to be positively barmy, made him want to hug her.
They'd get through this. They'd all get through this, even if he didn't yet know how.
They had friends….
Unlike Voldemort, they had something to fight for.
It was the best feeling in the damn world.
ECOTS
Bill's funeral was today.
It'd been almost a week since they'd returned from that cursed island. It was time.
Harry had already been told he wasn't permitted to attend. It would be near the Burrow, and getting him there by non-magical means would be too dangerous, too potentially costly when Voldemort's followers could be anywhere and everywhere. So he sat there, scowling on his hospital wing bed, getting ready to at least be discharged into the rest of the castle.
Hermione and Dean, however, were waiting for Kally's last check-up so they could get going to it. They'd be portkeying from McGonagall's office.
Kally threw Madame Pomfrey a vexed look. What she'd done to save Harry had resulted in her own heart beating in an arrhythmia for a few very touch-and-go hours apparently – not that she remembered a single bit of it - and the mediwitch didn't trust that she was completely healed.
"I promise you," she reiterated for the thirtieth time, "I'm fine."
Madame Pomfrey ignored her and flicked her wand, snapping Kally's head back, chin up, a magical stethoscope smacking against her throat, nose, and chest as if it were some kind of octopus.
Behind Pomfrey's back Harry stopped brooding long enough to smirk, waggling his eyebrows tauntingly at her.
Now Kally sent him a look. She'd stopped by the hospital wing to say bye to Harry before they left, only to find Pomfrey fussing over him. Then the git had suggested that she might be looking a little pale and that Pomfrey might want to check her out again.
He looked far too pleased with himself.
Kally squirmed away from the fourth stethoscope arm, swatting at it as it tried to lodge itself in her ear. Hermione leaned back against the nearest bed, rolling her eyes, Dean outright snorting.
Madame Pomfrey frowned, a quick flick of her wrist calling off the hounds of magi-scopes. Then she sent her a curious, narrow-eyed look. "You have a heart murmur," she declared.
Kally was well aware of what that was – her brother had had one. They were minor things, nothing dangerous. Granted she'd never had one before. "Okay…?"
Behind Pomfrey Harry's brow had suddenly creased, the wizard looking far less amused now. In fact, he looked outright worried.
The Healer tisked. "Well, there's certainly no way I'm clearing either of you for portkeying, side-along apparition or Floo-ing today." The look she tossed back at Harry made it abundantly clear who else she was talking about. "Especially you, young man. Your cardiac output is barely adequate and borderline abysmal. Are you sure you haven't seen that phoenix of yours flitting about anywhere?"
Harry suddenly looked considerably older. "Fawkes is Dumbledore's phoenix."
Pomfrey expression twisted into something far more sympathetic. "Of course, dear. Of course."
Hermione just glanced between the two of them, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. "So Harry and Kally can't come then." It was a statement, not a question. Dean just dropped a hand on her arm, glancing between the two.
"Come on Hermione, I'm sure these two can think of a way to entertain themselves for a few hours." His dark eyes met hers, a forced, empty smile present.
So many had died, and here they were, trying to act like everything was normal.
Bill's funeral would be held that afternoon, at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley's would be the day after, followed by Diggles', then Kingsley's.
Professor Gai and Dumbledore's would be held here, on Hogwarts' grounds.
Strangely Harry hadn't started breaking things, which Hermione had assured her was bound to happen fairly soon.
Kally tore her gaze away from Dean, sending Madame Pomfrey an annoyed look. "Are you serious?"
The mediwitch rose up to her full height – the witch was not tall – and stared her down. "Completely, Ms. Kaylens. Magical transportation puts an undeniable amount of stress on internal organs. It is what makes it so tricky to transport critical patients long distances, and I will not have you," she jabbed her wand at her nose, "mucking up my healing potions by trying to do so prematurely. Not after that stunt you pulled on him."
With that she turned abruptly towards the him in question, Harry, eyeing him seriously. "I am sorry, Mr. Potter. I know you and the Weasleys are very close."
For a moment he just stared right past Pomfrey and directly at her, Kally sighing heavily. Then his accusing eyes shifted to Pomfrey, nodding, his face oddly expressionless.
How in the hell was he so blasé about all of this? The Weasleys were his family. Still…
He'd died. He might have survived, but barely. Regulus had been right, Harry's heart had been damaged from the incident: something called postcardiac arrest syndrome. It prevented the heart from pumping as well as it should, keeping the person alive, but making them more prone to collapse or sudden death.
It'd heal in time – in the magical world in a matter of weeks, and that was without Fawkes' help - but Harry had been instructed to avoid too much physical activity, any type of magical portkeying, and any magic for at least a week.
Today they began burying those who hadn't made it back.
Harry seeming okay with all of it wasn't normal at all.
Kally barely even realized that Madame Pomfrey was shooing her, ushering her out of the hospital wing after Dean and Hermione to do an examination on Harry. Kally sighed, catching Harry's eyes for a brief second, before complying. Hermione rushed over to envelope Harry in a smothering hug, nearly knocking off his glasses.
Then Madame Pomfrey well and truly did kick them all out.
Outside she just nodded at Dean and Hermione, murmuring, "I think I'll just wait for him to be done. Can you please tell Ron, Ginny, Fred and George I'm sorry?" They left, Dean giving her arm a rough squeeze before doing so, Kally feeling relief as she watched them disappear.
She didn't do funerals. She didn't do families well.
How could she? Her own was dead and gone. The last thing she wanted to see was another going through the same thing.
With a sigh she leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes as she settled in to wait for Harry. Her heart was racing just thinking about him. What was wrong with him?
All she knew was that he had done something so utterly, incomprehensibly stupid that he'd died on her. He'd left her. The anger, the upset she'd held at bay over the past several days as he'd healed bubbled inside, and with him acting so calm about everything….
Kally didn't get it; she didn't understand it. Dumbledore was dead. The Daily Prophet and the Board of Governors had already gotten a hold of that information. Hogwarts was probably going to close soon, and Harry…
He seemed far too okay with everything.
She hissed a breath and waited. That was all she could do.
ECOTS
Harry drug a hand through his hair, grasping it firmly at the roots and contemplating pulling it out. The claustrophobia of being isolated in the hospital wing was gone, but his stomach remained in knots.
What in the hell good was a supposed savior that couldn't use magic?
Pomfrey had been damn clear – his heart wasn't pumping well enough. It'd heal, but it needed more time, and until then…
They couldn't risk him getting in a wand fight with Death Eaters. He couldn't use magical transportation. Hell, he couldn't do anything magical. He couldn't even comfort those he cared about.
Bill was dead. Mr. Weasley, a man who had welcomed him with open arms into his home, was gone. The family was suffering today, and he couldn't be there.
It was maddening.
He'd chalk those frustrations up on his long list of 'shit he couldn't do a thing about.' He'd deal with it, later, when he could actually be useful. Moody had been clear on that point; there were two types of situations: things he could do something about, and those he couldn't.
No wonder Sirius and Moody had gotten along. The two thought along the same lines.
His heart stung. He'd been dead. He'd seen Sirius. They'd chatted.
He'd promised his godfather he'd not muck things up this time.
He wouldn't.
Now that was something he could do something about.
Harry stormed out of the hospital wing, the door slamming behind him. He barely noticed it. His eyes instead sought her out, knowing she'd be there. She was always there.
She didn't disappoint.
Kalliandra was leaned up against the ancient stonework of the castle corridor, clearly waiting. It was still raining out, water crawling down the glass window panes. The shadows of rain droplets traveled across her pale skin with an aberrant life, making her look like some magical creature with shifting leopard skin.
She was a magical creature though, wasn't she? Human enough, and yet…
She wasn't. Not really.
Kally let out a sigh, not having seen him. The back of her head thudded against the wall, her eyes clenching closed, an expression of such conflict upon her beautiful countenance that he was half afraid to interrupt her.
Harry's working heart thudded in his chest.
Sirius' words came back to him: "We are talking, about the most important things, Harry."
Kaylens let out another frustrated sigh, a slender hand raising, rifling through her hair as if trying to literally pull a knot from it.
"That's what you see at the end of your life."
He'd been oddly silent towards her, for days. She'd stayed close anyway. He'd kept her close, his hands determinedly on her even if he hadn't exactly seemed welcoming. He'd been thinking; he'd been thinking hard. Until he'd talked to Luna he'd thought the talk with Sirius had been a dream, but it hadn't been.
He and Kally had barely talked, the number of words exchanged between the two minimal.
Harry wasn't an idiot. He'd hurt her. He'd seen it in the rippling reflections of the waiting room's version of the Black Lake. She'd cried over him, and Kaylens didn't cry over anything.
Now there she stood, outside of the hospital wing's confines, Harry having overheard Pomfrey saying that Kaylens had a heart murmur from the stunt she'd pulled.
Quite suddenly he felt undeniably sick.
"Hey," he greeted.
His voice cracked through the hall like a whip, Kally's head jerking up. She wet her lips, her chest rising and falling just a bit swifter. "Harry…." Her eyes flickered precipitously between him and the Hospital Wing door like a startled deer. "Madame Pomfrey set you free?"
Harry nodded, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Yeah."
He wanted to go to her, to sodding hold her. Instead he remained rooted right where he was, an indeterminable silence falling upon them.
It was a long time before either of them spoke, Harry finally breaking their wordlessly agreed upon muteness. "You've been quiet." He didn't have to explain that he meant the past few days, not now.
She didn't so much as look at him. She just stared across the empty corridor out the window, a rainy day on the Hogwarts grounds revealed just beyond its glass. "So have you," she all but whispered.
"It's what is the most important to you."
Harry's heart skipped. "You're mad," he stated simply. It didn't take a genius to figure out the problem.
Kaylens didn't deny it. She didn't deflect. Instead she just frowned. "Yes."
Dim sunlight from the overcast day poured into the hall, Harry shifting on his feet. He felt physically awful, out-of-sorts, but found he didn't particularly care right then. "Well since we're not going anywhere…" he let the statement linger, gaze raking over every inch of her form as if it would reveal what he needed to know.
Kally drew her lower lip between her teeth, gnawing on it. His lungs found it oddly hard to breath.
"I didn't know you'd gotten hurt helping me, Kally."
The non-witch's gaze darted to him abruptly, looking shocked. "I never told you that."
"You didn't," he responded grimly, fists clenching and unclenching in his pockets, "but thanks for confirming it."
Her lips parted for a brief second, before turning into a scowl. It looked as if she'd speak for a second, but thought better of it.
Instead she settled on just shaking her head, turning to gaze out the window as if she'd rather be out there in the rain. Hardly surprising…his girlfriend was often found sitting out by the lake in downpours. Hell, the last time he'd overheard Pomfrey say something about her, months prior, that's exactly where he'd found her. They hadn't even been together then, even if an unacknowledged part of him had desperately wanted her.
Now he'd overheard something entirely new. She'd pulled a stunt, on him, and he had a cursed idea of what it was.
"Kally," he demanded, "what did you do?"
She remained silent, eyes closing as if pained.
Harry hissed an irritated breath at being ignored, finally moving, approaching so that he stood directly in front of her. He made no move to touch her, didn't reach for her like he wanted. Instead he calmly waited for those incredible eyes of hers to flicker back open, impossible gold framed by shockingly dark lashes.
"What stunt," he repeated seriously, "did you do, that caused the heart murmur, Kaylens?" He waited only a half-beat, before dryly adding, "Couldn't help but overhear Pomfrey. Funny…how you never mentioned it."
She just shot him an exasperated look.
"Kal-"
She hissed a breath of her own. "What do you think I did?"
He wanted to throttle her. "Don't know," he dryly bit. "Thus the question."
It was a lie though. He had a good idea. He had a damn good idea.
He just hoped he was wrong.
Irises made up of flecks of impossible gold met his unapologetically. "I went after you."
His throat instantly tightened. "So you're hurt," he ground tensely, "because of me." He paused. "Again." He seriously contemplated becoming a recluse. He'd heard caves in the hills were nice this time of year.
This time her eyes practically flashed. "Your heart wouldn't beat, Harry. What did you expect me to do? Leave you?"
He met her gaze staidly. "Yes."
"Like hell."
"You shouldn't get hurt because of me."
"Yeah well, you shouldn't die because you're a stubborn arse," she snapped challengingly, "yet here we are."
He opened his mouth, gaping at her rather like a goldfish. She was already shaking her head though, pressing on, rain beating down outside.
"Your heart wouldn't beat," she repeated. "It'd gone completely still and Regulus…he couldn't make it move." A strange note was in her tonality, something choked. "I checked, and…it was dead, Harry. You were dead."
His stomach clenched. Right…so they were doing this then. He was surprised it hadn't happened sooner. He knew she'd be pissed. "Someone had to die," he said intractably. "I heal faster and I can hear the horcruxes. You and I both know I had the best shot of getting in and finding the horcrux the fastest, so I had the best shot of getting out. And if I didn't…" His malachite gaze hardened, deep green searching gold as he swallowed thickly. "If I didn't, then I still had the best chance of being brought back." Phoenix tears were great for healing, even if they were diluted in him.
She stared at him. She said nothing; she just stared.
"Someone had to die, Kally," he uttered lowly. The apology was in every vibration of his vocal chords, yet he hadn't thought there was any other option. "I was the best shot. That's why I asked Regulus to try to revive my ass afterwards, so I wouldn't break my promise to you if I could help it."
Kaylens sputtered in shock. "You planned it."
"Yeah," he grated, looking her dead in the eye, "I did."
There he stood, barely an arm's length away from her in a quiet corridor, and he was scared to touch her. He wasn't sure if he had the right. He loved her, but he'd made a decision that had cost him his life, and her reaction…
The silence of the past several days pulled at him, his girlfriend saying absolutely nothing. "Kally…"
She sucked in a breath, looking abruptly away. "Sometimes," she muttered, "I really hate you, Potter."
Harry's hand froze halfway to her, it abruptly dropping. He'd heard those words from her before, often enough. She never actually meant them. "Can't say I'd blame you," he responded honestly.
It was like she hadn't even heard him, the non-witch shaking her head, breaths coming unsteadily. "You were dead for over an hour, Harry." The way she said it made his chest clench. "Your heart wouldn't beat. They kept trying to stop. Ron and I…we had to…" Shaking her head, her long hair cascaded over her shoulders. "We had to beg them not to stop."
The pattering of rain on the window ledge resonated loud in the corridor, Harry silent. What in the hell was he supposed to say to that?
Her eyes flickered as if haunted, still looking anywhere but at him.
His throat clenched. "Kally…I'm sorry." And he meant it. "Believe me, leaving you is the last thing I wanted to do."
Something strange crossed her countenance. Harry wisely fell silent.
Finally she looked at him, something familiar flashing in her gaze. She was angry, so angry it had sent her eyes sparkling with tiny pinpricks of magic. "I could feel you trying to stay, but…you were already dead," she said softly, hollowly. "I didn't know what to do."
That's when he realized it.
She wasn't angry.
She was upset.
"Kally…" he whispered, at a loss. The implication that she'd done something… "Kally what did you do?" he croaked. She'd been hurt. He'd overheard Pomfrey. And she'd been hurt because of him.
She fixed her gaze down the hall, as if half expecting someone else to materialize. When no one did her eyes clenched, shadows of rain drops sliding artfully over her skin, Harry utterly incapable of looking away.
"I pulled life energy from mine," she whispered hollowly, "and put it into yours."
Harry's chest wrenched.
She suddenly looked at him, her eyes glittering with something he rarely saw. It was like she hadn't just said something crazy. It was like she was just an ordinary seventeen year old non-witch, glaring at the boyfriend who'd pissed her off, her eyes shimmering wetly.
She was trying not to cry.
Harry started at her in stunned awe. "You pulled life energy from yours…" he repeated, speechless. He was having trouble breathing, realization at what she'd done sweeping through him.
She could have been killed.
But if the tables had been turned…
He couldn't fathom the lengths he'd go to if it had been her laying dead before him.
He hoped he'd never find out.
He was at a loss, the reality of what that could have cost sinking in. "You could have died."
She didn't so much as blink. "I'm okay with that."
His heart skipped. "Kal…"
"What?" she hissed, the back of her hand rising to angrily wipe at her eyes. "Don't act so surprised, Potter. I'm not exactly surrounded by loved ones. I couldn't-"
"I'm pretty sure Dean would disagree," Harry cut in. "Pretty sure he'd storm the gates of hell for you and tear them apart with his bare hands, and take care of that three headed dog while he was at it." Frustration infiltrated his voice, his gaze holding hers levelly. "That's without mentioning Fred, Lupin, and more importantly me."
"You were dead, that was kind of the whole point."
"Yeah well, found my way back to you, now didn't I?"
Her lips parted, aghast, Harry's expression strained. "I'm sorry," he reiterated, not giving her a chance to argue. "I really, really am. But do you seriously think I'd want you dead just because I was?"
She glared, words spilling out. "I felt you die, Harry. Do you have any idea what that was like?"
He gaped, speechless. "You-you what?"
"I felt," she restated, "you die." Her eyes flashed with something distraught. "Bonded, remember?" She held up her hand, tilting her head pointedly at it as if to remind him of Lupin's little hand cutting experiment over a month back.
Harry honestly had no idea what to say to that. She'd felt it. His mouth flapped wordlessly. "I didn't know you'd feel it," he muttered lamely. He wet his lips, guilt daggering through him. "Did it-did it hurt?"
The look she shot him was answer enough.
What in the hell was he supposed to say to that?
She spared him the need. Kally shook her head, strands of sleek gold slipping angrily in front of her eyes. "Of all the things to ask…did it hurt?" she huffed an incensed breath, eyeing him with annoyance. "Seriously Potter?"
Despite himself, despite the situation, Harry couldn't help but smirk. "Well," he countered, "it was a legitimate question."
A flash of annoyance reflected within her eyes, Harry smirking even more. Damn…he was in love with the girl."Let me guess," he posed, only slightly goading, "you're going to sick Dean, Lupin, Neville, possibly Fred on me, aren't you?" He raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.
She made a sound like an angered harpy.
He smirked further, well aware that he was signing his own death warrant.
A peculiar expression suddenly crossed her countenance. "Wait, Fred?"
Harry snorted. "Yes, Fred. I'm not sure what you two went through in Dublin, Kally, but when Ron and I had to leave you on that barrier…after we washed back up on that island without you, you know what the first thing Fred asked us was?"
Kally said nothing. She just remained right where she was, leaning against the unadorned wall, staring at him, traces of disquiet lingering within her eyes.
Harry stepped closer. "He didn't ask if we were okay. He asked where you were." He wet his lips, smirking more. "Reckon he'd have kicked our asses if the answer wasn't what he wanted to hear." He moved closer, mere inches separating them. "And don't get me started on Lupin."
She looked genuinely surprised. Part of him wanted to shake her. "Harry…"
"It's the truth." He didn't so much as blink.
She, however, did. "Weren't we supposed to be talking," she deflected, sounding suddenly small, "about how mad I was at you?"
Despite himself, despite everything they'd recently been through, he actually snorted.
Then he lifted his hands, making a 'come and get me' gesture at her. "Well, come on then. Let me have it."
Kaylens would never be comfortable talking about anyone caring about her. He might as well just roll with it.
He didn't miss the slight twitch of her full lips. "I was planning to," she promised, "but it involved kicking your ass and that involved physical violence." She lifted her eyebrows challengingly. "I have to wait a few more days now, apparently." She sounded distinctly put out.
"Yeah well, life's full of disappointments," he dryly placated.
For a moment they both stood there, she leaning against the corridor wall, Harry standing right in front of her, so close, yet neither moved.
Damn if he didn't want to though. Somehow he didn't think grabbing and shagging her right there in the middle of the corridor would go over well, with either Kaylens or Pomfrey's orders.
"Do me a favor, Harry…if you get back, don't wait as long as Prongs did."
Padfoot's voice resounded in his skull, the Marauder somehow annoying him with promises he'd made even in death.
Sirius had also been right. His gut physically clenched. He'd have recognized the sensation as fear, but he was too much a Gryffindor to admit it. Instead his mouth went oddly dry, the Seeker opening his mouth, unsure of exactly what he would say, only for Kally to cut him off.
"Have you seen Fawkes?"
Instantly all thoughts of anything good evaporated. His pulse pounded, Sirius' words fading. Dumbledore. "No."
Disappointment flashed within her eyes. "Oh. So we can't…" she trailed off, but he did not miss the way her gaze fell to his chest.
His own narrowed, understanding filling him. Here he'd been thinking about other things, while she'd been worried about non-essential things, like if his heart actually worked right.
"You're still worried." He frowned. "About me." Phoenix tears healed, he got that, but they were already in him. It'd just take time.
She shot him a look as if he were daft. "Always," she muttered, heaving a sigh. "Idiot."
He inclined a dark eyebrow, something warm swelling within him. "You sure about that? Seems to be fluctuating with your mood."
"More like," she countered with a sharp look, "with how much of an ass you're being."
He shrugged casually. "Fair enough."
Still his heart thundered. His newly working heart was alive, and he was very aware of it. So many were dead, but they weren't. They were here, very much alive.
His girlfriend had saved his life, literally tearing life energy out of her own heart to force his to beat. Regardless of the utter hell that war was wracking, he couldn't help but feel something good…
It mingled with the incredible despair, the all-encompassing numbness that welled deep within him at the thought of those who hadn't made it. The physical stress, the mental pain…
With her, he could handle it.
She was studying him shrewdly, as if reading his innermost thoughts. "How are you not more upset?" No dancing around it, no taking care in her words. She was direct and to the point, always.
Harry loved that about her.
He hovered there, within the brightly lit corridor with her, the stormy sunlight streaming in from the windows as rain pattered upon the castle. "I am," he confessed. "But you're alive. Ron's alive. Luna's alive." He swallowed hard, a terrifying resolve in his next words.
"And honestly?" he grated. "As long as I have you I'm okay. I'll be fine. So…" His eyes held hers, entire musculature tensed with nerves. What he was saying…there was no going back from.
He didn't want to.
Harry moved, shifting until his hands fell upon the wall, along either side of her head. Kally's breathing had grown unsteady, Harry's pulse quickening at her visceral reaction. "Case you missed it Kally, I'm in love with you. Even dead I was still in love with you, so I can guarantee that's not ever going to change. So…" breathing slowing, head lowering to look her dead in the eye, he whispered, "as long as you're okay, I'm okay."
Something unreadable flickered within her irises, aberrant magic sparking within them. "What do you mean," she breathed, "even dead?" The glowing pinpricks were like miniature fireflies lighting her eyes, sending them sparkling, Harry's breathing hard, rough. He wanted nothing more, in that moment, than to grab onto her and never let her go.
Instead he allowed a slow grimace to cross his jaw line. "I remember," he admitted, "being dead. Interesting thing…that was. Everything's a bit too white, silver for my taste. Prefer golds, myself." His callused hand slid down the stone wall, landing in her hair, Harry giving the perfect, golden strand a meaningful tug. "Shocking, I know."
Kally was looking at him as if she'd never seen him before. "Potter that's…"
"Impossible?" He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, tell me about it." He should have known she'd have trouble with the concept. Luna had been on board immediately, but that was Luna. Kally had logic that definitely erred on the side of Hermione's. "I assure you, it's true. And regrettably…I saw everything." Pausing, he amended, "Well…mostly everything." There had been moments where he and Sirius had just talked.
The silky tendril slipped out from between his fingers, Harry's hand moving back to the wall. He wanted to touch her – he did – but he needed to focus for this conversation, and touching her…
Well, he sure as hell wouldn't be focusing then.
Kally's lips, lips he knew so well, had parted, as if wanting to say something, only they said nothing. Harry's mouth turned slightly. "It was called the 'waiting room.' It's where those dying hang out while they cross over. Dumbledore conveniently wasn't there so…if he was allegedly dying at the same time as I was, where was he?" He raised an eyebrow, adding, "Got to admit, not totally convinced he's dead."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted.
"Had a nice chat too with my godfather too," he pressed casually, "and he said something funny. Care to guess what that was?"
Her breathing hitched, Harry so close that he felt her chest brush against his own as she breathed. She said nothing. Instead her eyes flickered over his, head shaking in the negative.
Slowly he brought his face closer to hers, his breath brushing across her lips. "Told me to not dick around and wait too long with you." He breathed heavily, chest twinging in pain at the things, feelings she sent swarming through his chest. "Any idea," he pressed lowly, "what that could mean?"
"Harry," she breathed, his nose bumping up against hers for a split moment, "you were hallucinating…"
He went very, very still, a slow smile sliding over his face. He pulled back slightly, just far enough to look at her easily, dark green eyes studying her. "That so?"
She breathed hard, as if winded. "Yeah," she managed, "that's so. Just…deoxygenated neurons firing. Madly from the sounds of it…"
"Ah," he said with a subtle smirk. "So if that's the case, did you or did you not call me the King of Idiocy amongst those sweet threats you were whispering?"
He didn't have to wait for her reaction. It looked as if she'd been slapped, the non-witch having physically stopped breathing. She remained motionless for so long that his pulse thundered nervously. "Kaylens, breathe," he half ordered.
Abruptly she did, still staring at him. "That's-that's not possible…"
Harry couldn't help it. He smirked more. "Course not. So you didn't tell me I was the only one besides Dean you could stand either." He gave a mock tisk. "My, my Fred and Lupin will be disappointed."
It occurred to him only a second later that Kally was shaking. She was quivering like a leaf on a blustery fall day. Abruptly his hands dropped to her shoulders, sliding down her arms, kneading her muscles as he went.
He'd scared her. He had never meant to. He held her eyes with his, not having any intention of looking away.
"Thought," he told brusquely, "it was a dream. When I woke up. Then the more I found out, the more you lot relayed, more I realized it wasn't. And if that's the case…" His hands stilled upon her arms, the wizard swallowing roughly, "kind of confirms that whole 'we'll see those who died again' thing, doesn't it?"
One of Kally's hands rose, slowly crawling its way up his chest, her fingers curling halfheartedly against his shirt. Her palm now rested directly over his heart. He didn't have to ask what she was feeling for: his heartbeat.
Despite himself he smiled, genuinely.
For a long moment Kally remained silent, before finally managing, "That doesn't mean you're allowed to die on me, Harry."
He gave her arms a squeeze. "Not," he assured, "in my plans." His left hand dropped from her arm, finding her waist. There, in the empty Hogwarts corridor, Harry Potter observed his girlfriend quietly. No…dying again was not in his plans.
Something else was though.
"You figure out yet," he questioned, eyes on her, "what you want to do after Hogwarts yet?"
The non-witch was still studying him, the openness in her eyes startling. "No," she intoned. "Been a bit busy…you know, sharks and islands and crazy boyfriends and all…"
He let out a mild growl. "Boyfriends?" Emphasis on the s.
Her lips curved into a smile. "Well…you left me alone…"
With another discontented sound he looped his fingers into her skirt's pocket, tugging her close. "Never," he vowed, "making that mistake again." His free hand moved, clenching against the base of her neck, drawing her head against his. His fingers were already tangling within her hair, his eyes closing, her scent filling him.
He could feel her trembling, her next whispered word so soft he scarcely heard it.
"Promise?"
He swallowed thickly. "Promise." With that his mouth claimed hers, Kally his. She was undeniably, truly his. Harry tugged her lower lip between his teeth, the muscle within his chest thundering, aching from even this slight exertion, and yet…
He wouldn't stop. He kissed her, there in the hall, until he had no choice but to break for air. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling every centimeter of her flush to him. "Hurry up," he whispered, voice rougher, deeper, "and think about it."
Kally moved against him, her lips finding his jaw line, lingering as she panted, catching her breath. "Why?" She sounded curious, her arms winding around his neck, his around her waist, Harry wanting her near. Always near.
He felt like his heart was about to stop. "Because," he grated, everything he had revealed in this singular sentiment, "I don't want you to say no when I get around to asking." His nose bumped against hers meaningfully, his chest physically hurting.
Kally was still, so still. He could feel her lips against his unshaven jaw. He could feel her warm breath tracing against his flesh. He could feel the way her fingers subtly tightened within his unruly hair. "Ask what?" she sounded almost afraid.
"You know what."
It hadn't been difficult to grasp Sirius' meaning.
He hadn't needed it.
He already knew what the hell he wanted.
Yet Kalliandra was still shockingly silent, quiet.
Harry pulled back enough to cup her chin, tilting her face around to look at him. "Besides" he responded roguishly, thumb caressing her face, "if I said it, I'd be asking. Can't. Still got about two months…"
Her complete and total lack of reaction would have worried him, had this not been them. There was nothing sane or normal about this; there never had been. With maddening patience he waited, viridian studying gold, the non-witch looking truly, indisputably shaken. Finally…
"Your birthday's in two months," she murmured, it already the end of May. Her eyes did not leave him, Harry content to remain under her scrutiny as long as needed.
It didn't stop him from smirking. "Birthday huh…catch on quick, do you?" His fingers began trailing up her cheekbone, tracing it.
Her eyes fell shut in response, words disbelievingly managed. "So in two months you…"
"Mmm," he muttered in agreement. "Assuming of course you haven't dumped my ass. Realize this thing we have…not exactly healthy. Not all the time, anyway."
Her eyes shot open, fixing upon him. He gave her a careless shrug of the shoulders. They fought. They fought a lot. They disagreed on just about everything the other did with the Order, and yet…
He loved her.
She just stared. "You can't be serious."
His heart dropped, but his gaze did not waver. "I'm deadly serious, Kaylens. Never been so damn serious in my life."
She shook her head at him. "But…why?" She honestly seemed confused, her hands falling to the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. An unconscious, good shudder racked him.
It took him a second to collect himself, finally grinding, "For starts…there's a war, and if this weekend was any indicator there's no guarantee of anything." He saw her cringe, but pressed on, "But mostly…" he swallowed. "You know how they say," he roughly relayed, "at the end of your life, that you see the most important things?" He was trying to not touch her – he was. He wanted her to remember this. He wanted to be damn sure he got it right. And yet…
He could not stop his hands from moving along the contours of her form, his breathing harder, harsher, rougher. Hers were doing the same, roaming along his shoulders, lingering near the neck of his shirt…
With the strength of Godric Gryffindor himself he managed to drag in a rough, desperate breath. "You know what I saw, Kally? What I thought about? Even with all this other crap going on? You." His large hands went rigid upon her sides, squeezing her ribs just below her breasts, murmuring, "It's always you. Even with the damn war you're the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning. When I wake up from having had my ass knocked out. When I fall asleep. Hell, even when I'm apparently in cardiac arrest and getting revived by a crotchety healer turned potions master."
At that Harry stopped, his gaze locking with hers. At the phrase 'cardiac arrest' Kalliandra had made an upset sound, but he didn't care. He'd been dead, there was no getting around that. Other people were dead. Dumbledore might be dead. But she was here, and damn if he didn't want her. But this…what they had…
It was no longer enough. He needed, wanted more. Dying and Sirius had reminded him that Potter men didn't always exactly live very long, and wizarding law made him of age as soon as he turned seventeen.
Not to mention they were already at the point of jumping in front of deadly hexes and creatures for one another, sharing the same life energy in their literal heart muscles. He wasn't sure how much more blatant they could get.
So now he stood there, clutching onto her ribs so hard he could feel her pulse beneath his fingers, waiting. The way she was looking at him…
She'd never looked at him like that before.
It took her so long to respond that he thought he might scream.
"And to think," she said, sounding awed, "I was so close to dumping you…"
It took him a second.
A very long second.
Then he let out a truncated laugh. "So," he observed gravely, "you were mad."
"You have no," she revealed, "idea."
A dark eyebrow raised, Harry hiding the utter ledge he was mentally on. "What about now?"
Kally gnawed on the corner of her mouth. "Oh," she said casually, "I'm still mad, but…since you apparently intend to stick around this time…" Her lips curved into a smile, a welcoming smile. "I suppose I could let it slide."
Harry's heart thudded, realization striking.
The impossible witch, one he'd hated upon first meeting, one that had now saved his life, one whose life he'd saved, one he was in love with, one he was making plans with, smiled nervously at him.
He moved. Harry snared her by the back of her head and kissed her. He had her smashed back against the wall in an impulse, unable to sodding hold back. He didn't care that his chest wrenched with pain, it all too much sudden movement for his recovering body to take. He didn't care that he gasped against her lips like a man deprived of air, or that she whimpered in enjoyment beneath him.
Actually, he did care about that. "Did you just-"
Kaylens growled against him "Shut up."
He heaved another breath on a half-laugh, hand fisted in her hair, his mouth muttering, "Gladly," before he'd reclaimed her lips with vehemence. Merlin…he wanted this.
The thundering heart in his chest reminded him that he was alive. That he was hers. That she was his. That he could take her at any sodding time he wanted, and that he could handle anything as long as he had her.
Their friends were dead.
Somehow he figured some of them – not Professor Gai or Dumbledore, but definitely Bill – would approve of this.
With that thought in mind Harry'd twisted her around, shoving her across the narrow corridor, up onto the window's ledge. He spread her legs to press close, their panicked, frenzied breaths gasped against one another's lips. His hand snared at her blouse, working the buttons-
"Harry," she panted, her back well and truly pressed up against the second floor window's cool glass, "we're right outside," he found her neck, assaulting her pulse point, "the hospital wing."
Despite her warning Harry still felt her legs wrap around his waist, tugging him against her, his heart pounding. "Good," he choked, "not supposed to be doing this," breathing hard, "anyway." He was breathing so hard he had a flashback to Oliver Wood's insane early morning training sessions with drills. This little exertion shouldn't have done this and yet…
He didn't care.
Kally made a protesting sound as his mouth reclaimed hers, hands still working her buttons. "You're not supposed-you could get hurt," she whimpered.
Harry gave up on the buttons. Instead he grabbed one side of her shirt, tugging it roughly, buttons flying as she let out a gasp. Various buttons rolled noisily across the corridor floor, spinning to stops on the cold stone. "I'll snag a potion," he breathlessly promised, "after."
Kalliandra hesitated, Harry's chest pained, hurting, but he didn't care. "Kally please," he practically begged against her lips. He'd died. He needed to show her, prove to her he was with her, alive, not leaving again.
Physically he needed her.
Before he knew it she was nodding against him, her mouth against the side of his neck, Harry forgetting everything but his name and hers. Rain pounded down outside, the pattering soothing as hell, the two teenagers that had grown up too fast taking out the stress and trauma of the past week on one another. At some point Kally murmured something about people, Harry stopping his burning assault of her lips long enough to dig out his wand, his head bowing against hers for a moment as he concentrated deeply.
"Neanimadverto."
A pale green light swirled out of his wand's end, something tugging brutally at Harry's internal organs, it painful enough that he groaned, head spinning. His hand snared against the glass window, clenching its slick surface in an attempt to remain upright for a few harsh seconds whilst Kaylens frantically said his name, repeating it anxiously, her hands on either side of his face.
The notice-me-not spell swirled around them both, his skin chilled, tingling as it did its work. He breathed in deeply, harshly-
Kally slapped him across the face.
Harry let out a sputter, managing to stand and look at her in shock. Unadulterated terror was in her eyes, it taking a second for him to realize that her hand was against his chest, as if feeling his heartbeat. "Harry…Harry are you-"
He nodded, dizzy. His hold on Kaylens had grown tight, more for his balance then the desire to touch her, which was saying something. He wanted to touch her. Still his vision swam with black spots, but they were slowly clearing.
He kind of got why she'd slapped him to get his attention, actually.
Kaylens hissed angrily, squirming to get up, inadvertently brushing against parts of him that sent a dagger of want through him. "This is why we shouldn't be doing this. You're not healed. You're not supposed to do magi-"
Harry groaned, his hands instantly tightening on her, a silent request for her to please stay. He thudded his brow needingly against Kalliandra's, breathing in her scent. It was like rain – it was always like rain. "I'm okay," he croaked.
Then again, he was uncertain of how convincing that actually was.
"I'm okay," he reiterated more forcefully, breathing deeply against her. Brows pressing together, his gaze cracked, affording him one hell of a view. Kally's shirt was hanging wide open, white brazier doing things to her breasts that reminded him that he was a red blooded male, regardless of whether or not his head was spinning.
"Harry, it's not worth-"
His grip tightened upon her, jade eyes locking with hers. "We're alive," he told. "That's reason enough." He swallowed. "And I don't give a damn what Pomfrey said."
Indecision swirled in her eyes, Harry clenching his own shut, dragging a hand to the side of her face. "Promise Kally, not leaving…"
A second passed.
Then another.
Rain droplets slid down the outer pane, the grounds a gray, abandoned expanse of grass and lake. Finally…
"Okay." Kally hesitantly nodded against him, her hands sliding across his chest, clenching against his pectorals as if rethinking this. The cool corridor air was inexplicably calming, the tingling radiating through his chest from the feel of her hands alone…
Magic.
She was nodding, voice murmuring, reiterating two syllables that he didn't need to hear twice. "Okay. But Potter…"
He arched an eyebrow, grip sliding to the base of her neck as the last of the black spots faded, his pulse finally catching up with his oxygen demand.
"You die from trying to screw me, and I'll give your body to the Slytherins for practice."
Harry was mid-way through choking out, "Practice for what?!" when her mouth slammed against his, Harry sputtering.
He was dating a dangerous non-witch.
ECOTS
Six days ago she'd thought she would never again get to do this with him. The image of him laying cold and unresponsive on those angry black rocks flashed through her mind, her fingers clenching against him with a need that surprised even her.
Harry groaned as her nails dug into his shoulders, his mouth against her neck, but Merlin if he didn't stop.
He hadn't been breathing…
He was certainly breathing now.
What he'd said to her, what he'd told her he intended to ask…
It was like being hit with lightning, the most intense, good sensation she'd had in days attacking her stomach. Something was insane about this. He was insane. They were in a castle corridor. There weren't many people in the castle but what if someone walked by?
Abruptly he shoved her back on the windowsill, her back colliding with glass, his large hand beneath her bra, two of his fingers seizing her nipple between them-
"Harry," she gasped, pulse wild, "that spell you did-"
His free hand twisted in her hair, dragging her face back to expose her neck. "Someone could be right behind me," he assured darkly, "and wouldn'tnotice." Pausing, lips tracing up her throat in a manner that had her moan something incoherent, he paused, dryly grinding, "So long as you're quiet."
An infinitesimal laugh escaped her, breathing unbelievably unsteady as he grabbed her breasts. "Harry," she moaned, leg shifting, rubbing against him in a manner that sent him groaning in return.
Harry had terrified her for a moment, the way he'd grown unsteady after casting the spell, looking vacantly as if he hadn't seen her…
Merlin if he wasn't intact and alive now.
"What about the grounds?" They were in a window.
Harry cast a glance behind her, clearly looking through the pane, muttering, "It's storming. No one's there."
Judging from the way his mouth dropped back to her neck, apparently that settled the matter.
She wrapped her fingers in his unruly, impossible hair and drug his head back up, chest heaving. "Harry…" She claimed his lips, hands abandoning their assault on his shoulders, whispering, "Slow…slow…you're still-"
He returned the pressure, his mouth moving against her in a maddening way. The tingling against her lips, her skin, against anywhere he so much as touched… "Okay," he muttered against her. "Slow."
And that's how they proceeded.
The windowsill Harry had her in was in a recessed nook. His shirt dropped to the ground within it, her hands sliding along his abdominals, Harry shuddering beneath her fingertips. His own hands slid her blouse off her shoulders, his callused fingers lingering over every inch of exposed skin in the process. At some point her hair got tangled in the window latch, the two having to stop, laughing quietly against one another's lips as he'd tried to disentangle it.
Eventually he'd tugged it out, a promise to regrow her hair later murmured against her lips despite her annoyed exclamation.
It hardly mattered. Their kissing was slow, appreciative. They'd nearly been separated, permanently. The fear was there; it was in every nip, every touch, every kiss. It was in the way his mouth nipped at her ear, hers doing the same. Her fingers slid through his hair, it slung across his forehead in a maddening way.
Then her hands were at his belt, undoing it-
Harry's own hand was quicker. He'd found her thigh, fingers sliding up along her, the brush of his fingertips against her skin sending her breaths quickening, hips moving. Her skirt was lifting, bunching beneath his sure grip…
A second later he found her, fingers rubbing, massaging her center through the fabric. He teased, Kally moaning against his neck, Harry silencing her with his mouth, his throat rumbling in a deeply amused reprimand to be quiet. She couldn't, what he was sodding doing to her-
His fingers slipped the silky fabric adroitly to the side, sliding in. Kally gasped, making a sound she wasn't aware of, hips bucking to press against him, nearly sliding off the windowsill.
Harry's arm snared her fiercely around the waist, winding around her lower back, rooting her there as his fingers moved fast. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, the flicking, circling he was doing in her…
She bit his shoulder, unable to think of any other way to be quiet. Harry groaned but didn't stop. Jolts of something electric were being shot through her, just from his touch. Merlin…through her lidded gaze she could see the hospital wing door. They should stop. They needed to stop.
She wasn't sure if she could, even if she tried.
"Harry, please," she gasped, trying to move, his head bowed against hers, gaze clenched. His breathing was harder, labored…
She snared his wrist, managing to choke out, "Please." She was shoving him away now, her mouth against his the whole time, unrelenting in pressure as she slid from the windowsill, skirt askew. Harry didn't stop. The way he groaned in protest was ignored, the corridor still mercifully empty, thunder rumbling outside, somewhere over the Forbidden Forest…
She slid away before shoving him against the windowsill. The look he shot her was borderline annoyed, despite the way his belt hung undone, pants unbuttoned, unzipped.
"For once in your life," she demanded, "don't argu-"
Harry groaned, grabbing onto her hips and physically dragging her up and onto him. Straddling him, moving against him, she shoved Harry back against the glass, mouth trailing down his jaw.
"Stubborn witch…"
"Not a witch," she corrected.
Harry snared her by the back of her head, muttering, "Pulling dead guy card as excuse." Kally made an angry sound, his mouth silencing her. It wasn't funny. The fact that he had been…
Kally wanted to scream. She didn't want to hurt him, and yet…
She couldn't sodding stop, Potter not helping. Her knees dug painfully against the ledge they sat in, Kally uncaring so long as the sensations continued, so long as his hips continued to drive against hers, rubbing, pressing...
She yanked away, lips pressing to his neck, feeling his pulse beating frenziedly beneath them, something she'd ached for when he'd lain in that hospital wing bed, unmoving. Now though it was beating fast…too fast.
She slowed, slowly catching her breath, moving more gently. Forcing herself to calm…
Harry had other ideas.
Harry grabbed onto her like a man deprived of water, her hips pressed so tight to him that the feel of his undone zipper digging into her thigh physically hurt. It was carnal, instinctual. His hands slid down, other parts of him freed, pushing even closer. The sudden sensation, the feel of him brushing against her, so sodding close, only a thin fabric barrier separating them now….
"Harry…" she breathed against his lips. With a murmur she tried to impale herself on him…
He stopped her, tugging back, deep green irises locking with hers desperately. "Kally…that potion you took…"
"It lasts a week," she promised. It'd been exactly that. She pressed her mouth back to his, but had stopped moving, Kally practically able to see him doing the calculation in his head.
A soft, unbidden laugh escaped. "I'll take another," she whispered promisingly, "soon as we get back. If you'd just stop…"
He claimed her mouth with renewed hunger.
It didn't take much. A slip of fabric, a slow thrust, a needing groan.
Kally slid slowly onto him, his face burying against her breasts, hers against the top of his head as she began to move. All she saw was black. Black hair, black as night. She moved slowly, carefully, afraid to hurt him or cause any more damage. The sodding sensation though, the urgency, the need to increase the pace…
He'd grabbed her hair, yanking her head back, seizing her throat.
Kally could barely contain it, Harry's arms gathering her desperately against him. She threw her hips against him again and again, fingers raking down his back, his lips against the side of her throat, teeth grazing her delicate flesh.
It was all she could do not to scream.
She nearly did.
Harry slammed his mouth against hers, Kally making a strangled sound as a pulsating pleasure rose from somewhere deep in her core. Things were rising, frenzied, primal.
Harry jerked beneath her, Kally feeling as if lightning seized her, a shot of something so raw, so painful, yet a pleasure indescribable. Their magic released, sizzling, an audible crackle on the air…
She all but collapsed against him, Harry grabbing onto her, holding her limp form against his own. They'd collapsed in a heap, Harry leaning heavily against the glass, breathing hard. It was all she could do to catch her breath, it taking her several long, long moments before she realized how pained Harry looked.
Instantly her eyes shot fully open, sitting up, hands all over him. "Harry. Harry."
A set of forest-colored eyes cracked open, glaring tiredly at her. "Kally," he groused tiredly, "not going to break. Just…" he winced, "give me a minute."
Her hands on his chest suddenly relaxed, the tension draining right out of her. Now she just sat there, panting, barely able to comprehend what they'd just done. Later she'd chalk up their sheer idiocy to her complete and utter relief that he was alive.
She was in love with the idiot.
Leaning forward she began kissing his jawline, Harry groaning again. "Opposite," he muttered, "of helping me…" he let out another groan as she found his neck, "calm down."
Despite herself her lips twitched.
Ten minutes later found their shirts both reclaimed, Kally's buttons in hand. Harry had tiredly leaned against the wall muttering something about being too tired to even try to charm the buttons back on. That quickly resulted in the most stealthy, mid-day trip back to the dorms on record.
It wasn't until they'd gotten back, the empty beds all in their direct view, that the reality sunk in.
The others were at Bill's funeral. Mr. Weasley's would be the next day. They would be here, in Gryffindor dormitory, alone until then.
Harry collapsed onto his bed, too exhausted to utter a word. Instead he just smacked the mattress alongside him, Kally's lips turning ever so slightly. It wasn't until they both lay there, curled up alongside one another, that her brow furrowed, an honest question falling from her lips.
"Do you really think we'll make it out of this?"
Malachite eyes, many shades of green flecks reflecting within them, met hers across the pillow. A heavy shadow lingered within those irises, but he lied for her.
"Yeah Kaylens, I do."
