Author's Note: Thank you all for the wonderful and kind comments and the excellent and constructive suggestions. Review replies will be at the end of the chapter. Also, as a head's up, the next couple of chapters will be a bit odd with viewpoints (I really struggled writing this one as I just absolutely cannot write these in-between action chapters easily) but we'll be back to the usual in no time.
Second, I need to clarify a couple of things based on questions via PM:
1 - Kally is not Voldemort's daughter/granddaughter/long lost relative/etc. They have absolutely 0 relationship. We are not diving into any 'Voldemort's long last family clichés.' I had a couple PMs asking and I'm happy to say nope, that's not it. We cool? Sweet!
2. The condition Harry currently has, where after a cardiac arrest event his heart isn't pumping correctly due to the heart muscle being damaged, is a real thing. It's called 'post cardiac arrest syndrome' and results in there being reduced cardiac output and dysrhythmias (your heart isn't beating right or pumping enough). In Harry's case had he been in a Muggle hospital he'd have definitely died from the damage to his heart muscle, but having a phoenix bond, phoenix tears in him, and a war bond with Kally that's making his magic stronger it allowed his heart muscle to heal (which it wouldn't in a Muggle setting) and actually work while it's healing. (AKA: I'm taking some serious liberties with his condition and magic.) So if he and Kally are okay, and if Fawkes is okay, he is okay. If either Kally or Fawkes aren't okay then he'd basically collapse at this point. (He'll heal, but it'll take a bit of time.) In real life, this kills survivors of cardiac arrest quite frequently. It's why the post-cardiac arrest survival in hospital rate is so low.
"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."
― C.S. Lewis
Chapter 57 ~ We're Not Okay
ECOTS
"What in the hell are you doing here?"
Dean Thomas was growing increasingly convinced that his friendship with Ginny Weasley was going to be the death of him – mainly because he was around her a lot, and he'd recently realized that literally everyone in her family was only one bad mood away from drawing wands.
Right now, for instance, Ron Weasley had just drawn his wand, a white knuckled grip shaking as he stared at the form of his older brother, Percy Weasley.
They'd all been upstairs, camped out in Ron's room, waiting for the funeral to start when there'd been a knock on the door.
Naturally this explained why Ron and Ginny looked like they were going to kill someone: namely their older, ex-Prefect brother, who had been telling them they were all traitors to the Ministry and that Harry was obviously mad for the better part of two years. Ginny had filled him in on the highlights.
Dean drug a hand over his head and contemplated his exit routes. It was either a very high window or the door. The door, however, ran the risk of being killed in a wand fight.
Percy Weasley stood there in a very formal set of wizarding dress robes, black for the occasion, and frowned. "Hello Ronald, Ginerva," he stated in overly formal succession, as if they were mere acquaintances and not his own siblings. He looked between each one in turn, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses thoughtfully. "It's been awhile."
"Yeah," Ginny spat. "No thanks to you."
Dean internally winced. He knew that tone of voice, and it promised of bat bogeys and impotence hexes. He would know; she'd hit him with one last year when they'd dated for that month, and he'd made the mistake of agreeing with Seamus that a Ravenclaw fifth year was hot.
He'd gotten hexed badly, and she hadn't even been upset prior to that. Currently Ginny's eyes were bloodshot, her nose and cheeks slightly pink-tinged from tears he knew she was repressing, and she was clearly upset.
Despite everything happening Ginny hadn't cried once.
After killing Seamus he wondered if she'd had any tears left.
It tore him up a bit, watching how she stood there, red hair cascading down her back, trying to hold it together. He hadn't been there when Ron had told her about their dad and brother dying. He'd just waited in his dorm, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, breathing slowly as he'd run over a conversation with Snape.
Apparently the Order's established spy was going to claim that Bill Weasley's death had been due to Dean. It'd help Voldemort think he was loyal.
Ginny had inevitably found him there, no wiser than anyone else. Only Snape, Kalliandra, Harry and Dumbledore knew. Now Dumbledore was dead.
What in the hell was he supposed to do?
Dean swallowed and slowly stood up, feeling incredibly out of place as he watched the silent stand-off between the three. They all just stood there, on the top floor of the Burrow, awaiting Mr. Weasley's funeral to begin.
Seriously, he should have taken guard duty with Hermione, Luna and Neville.
Inevitably Percy turned his horn-rimmed gaze away from the two, catching sight of Dean behind them. "Dean Thomas." He frowned. "What are you doing here?"
Before Dean could so much as open his mouth Ron had growled again, and Ginny had snapped, "Supporting me, unlike you, you-you family-disowning coward."
Percy's brown gaze turned quickly back to his sister, a deep frown of consternation on his face. "I think you mean," he stated un-succinctly, "refusing to fall in line with a mentally incompetent and possibly violent child, who brings trauma on everyone around him, Ginerva." His gaze swiveled between her and Ron. "I only wish you had both heeded my advice and cut ties with him when you had the chance."
"You're talking," Ron stated dangerously, "about Harry."
Percy simply met Ron's gaze levelly. "Yes. I had rather hoped his absence today meant you had severed ties, but judging from your tone I can see I was mistaken."
Ron growled. Loudly.
Percy seemed non-flummoxed. "I did caution you not to fall in with his lot, Ronald. Look where it's gotten you."
At this Ginny lunged forward, Dean taking a few quick steps towards her to drop his hands on her shoulders. His tight grip was probably the only thing keeping her from bolting at Percy.
Ron, however, had no such restraint. He advanced, forcing Percy backwards and onto the stairwell landing. "Where it's gotten me?" he voiced into the hall. "You're the one who turned on your own family for Fudge. And oh yeah? Where's he now? Canned."
Percy sighed audibly. "I simply came up here to extend to you an olive branch, Ronald. You'll be graduating next year and Ginny soon after. You have your futures to think of and if you remain at Hogwarts nothing good will come of it." He frowned. "Surely you know its credentials were revoked as soon as Dumbledore's death was confirmed?" He arched a pompous eyebrow. "You both need to transfer to a new school immediately. Given the circumstances, I'm happy to help pay your tuitions. I would hate to see my family wind up in stagnant positions later on in life."
It was like he wasn't at his own father's funeral, instead discussing a business transaction.
Ginny had gone unbelievably still beneath his hands, and though Dean could not quite see her face, he imagined it was probably as red as her hair. "Dad's dead," she whispered, sounding stunned, "and all you can think about is credentials?"
Percy frowned heavily at them both, looking almost affronted. "Ginny, with father and Bill gone someone has to be the man of this house, and ensure things are taken care of, that you are both taken care of. I know it's been some time, but it's what father would want, and Mother is certainly in no emotional or financial state to accomplish that."
Dean wasn't quite sure how it'd happened, but somehow Ginny had gotten her wand in her hand, it hanging at her side. Her breathing was very unsteady, like she was trying to control herself. Ron, on the other hand, simply stammered something incoherent.
Once more Dean felt like an interloper at a private family affair. He hadn't wanted to come, but Snape had been adamant that he do so.
Now his large hands just flexed against Ginny's shoulders, his brown gaze leveled over her head at her elder prat of a brother.
Percy simply looked at them both, before turning his gaze towards him. "Dean, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have a private conversation with my brother and sister. I'm sure you can understand it's a family matte-"
"Don't you dare call us family!" Ginny hissed, taking a swift step forward.
Dean snared her around the waist, managing to grab her wand hand before she could hex her brother, who just happened to be a Ministry official. For a second she went still, before realizing exactly what he was doing.
Then she struggled: violently. "Dean Thomas, if you know what's good for you, you will let go of me!"
Dean did not, well aware he was going to pay for it later. He'd been less afraid dead-center of Dublin and trapped on that damn island. Right now though he was too busy lifting Ginny bodily off the ground to worry about his inevitable and untimely death at her hands, which was sure to occur in a few minutes time.
Somehow he didn't figure letting Ginny hex her own brother at her father's funeral would go over so well. So he held tight, shooting Percy Weasley a look that said he was damn well staying. "No offense Percival," he stated bluntly, "but me being here is the only thing keeping your ass handed to you right now."
Ron grunted his agreement. "Dean has more of a right to be here then you," the Gryffindor Keeper uttered, not even glancing back at the struggle. "I'm surprised Mum even let you through the front door."
Percy just stared blankly at the three, prompting Ginny to make an angry sound.
Dean finally dropped her onto her own feet, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around her. It wasn't to hug her or to be emotionally supportive; it was quite literally to pin her arms to her sides.
Percy still looked baffled, looking between his two siblings as if affronted. "Ronald, Ginerva, you have to take your education seriously or you'll be unemployable. Have you learned nothing from dad's mistakes? The poverty we've all experienced would have been completely preventable had father merely had some initiati-"
"Shut up!" Ginny shrieked, jerking in his arms. "You shut up you horrible, vile-"
Right. Dean was rapidly losing the ability to prevent her from firing off a hex without actually harming her himself.
He was, however, able to nail her with a sleeping charm, the girl he'd most recently snogged abruptly going limp in his arms.
Dean caught her before she hit the floor, Percy observing the exchange emotionlessly. "Good thinking Thomas. That is probably for the best. Ginny always was rather overly emotional." He removed his glasses, polishing them on his shirt.
Grunting Dean hefted Ginny up into his arms, her face lolling to the side and against his chest as he stared dully at Percival Weasley. "You really think now's the time?" he questioned brusquely, shaking his head and turning to walk back into Ron's bedroom to lay Ginny down.
As such, his back was to the scene, so he didn't actually see it happen.
He did hear it.
"Get out of here Percy. No one wants you here."
Percy Weasley heaved an insufferable sigh from somewhere within the hall. "Ron, if you hadn't been so hellbent on remaining friends with Harry Potter then father wouldn't be dead. Surely you know he was at the center, again, of the destruction of Grimmauld Street in the middle of London? If you'd cut ties when I'd originally warned you father might still be ali-"
That was all Percival Weasley was able to say.
There was a loud thump, followed by a grunt, a growl, and a lot of shouting.
The next thing Dean knew, having dropped Ginny onto the mattress and spun back around, was that both Ron and Percy were gone.
Ron Weasley had tackled his own brother straight down the Burrow staircase.
ECOTS
Kally was in her own personal hell. Her head was swirling with images, thoughts of a wizard with perpetually disheveled, messy black hair, cutting green eyes, and an overly noble-bordering-on-suicidal hero complex, and it was making her heart clench.
That wizard, her wizard, hadn't come after her.
She'd made it halfway up the stairs to the Gryffindor girls' dorms when that clenching in her chest got worse. Considerably worse.
Her hand grabbed onto the hand rail, Kally nearly collapsing at the sudden pain. Sucking in a gasp, inside her chest something began to ache in a raw, visceral way that had her head momentarily spin. The book fell from between her fingers, thumping dully on the step before thunkering down several more.
A portrait along the stairwell eyed her with unabashed concern. "Are you quite alright dear?" The witch in fluffy blue garments, one long since dead, added, "Would you like me to summon Madame Pomfrey? I was a healer you know. I have a portrait just outside her-"
Kally gasped, shaking her head no, golden hair spilling around her face as she felt her heart physically begin to skip.
This wasn't something caused by pure upset with her idiotic boyfriend.
No. It felt more like an internal itch, one that physically hurt, that she couldn't scratch.
She'd felt pain like this once before, when she'd been stranded on that barrier on that cursed island, only then it'd been so, so much worse.
It'd been worse because Harry had been dying.
She'd felt it. She'd felt him die because of their stupid war bond.
The realization hit her like a battering ram.
Kally spun and bolted back towards his dorm before she'd even processed what she was actually doing. Reaching his dorm she was inside and through the door quicker than she'd have thought she could possibly move.
It hadn't changed; it was still unlit, only the light spilling in from the windows providing any warmth. It was still empty save for one occupant. It still carried that earthy, grassy scent that reminded her of the Quidditch pitch.
Harry was on the floor, sitting, knees drawn to his chest. He was leaning heavily against the bottom of his bed frame, his handsome face twisted in pain. It looked like he'd tried to get up, only had been unable to make it any farther than that.
She'd left him not thirty seconds ago.
He'd tried to follow her. Kally didn't have to ask; he always was there. She thought he hadn't this time, that she'd somehow crossed a sodding line, but that wasn't it.
He just hadn't been able to.
Kally made an upset sound, not caring if he heard. "Harry…"
Quickly she skid across the dormitory floor, dropping down onto it, at his side in but a moment. His pained expression was buried against his knees, every visible muscle taut like a tightly strung wire. "Harry…Harry look at me," she ordered, trying desperately to keep the panicked note out of her voice. She was failing. She didn't care.
He didn't look up; he just let out a pained groan.
"Harry, please," she pled.
His only response was a grimace.
She felt her heart skip, twisting fearfully and in simultaneous pain. "Damn't Harry!"
At that he drug his head up with Herculean effort, dropping it against the bed frame. "There," he grated, cracking his green gaze to eye her with disdain. "Happy?"
She practically hissed. "No, I'm not sodding happy!" Her eyes flew across his familiar face, taking every centimeter of him in. He was a sickly ashen gray, pale. Grasping desperately at his wrist she felt for his pulse point, finding it. It was incredibly weak, thready.
Her heart leapt into her throat. "I'm getting Madame Pomfrey."
Before she could so much as move Harry had swiftly flipped his grip around, his fingers snaring her wrist. "No. Don't," he ground, it sounding like even that took considerable effort. "Just…just wait." His grip was weak, far weaker than she'd ever felt.
And still…the feel of Harry's fingers against the delicate underside of her wrist sent an unbidden shudder coursing through her. Harry was stronger than this, and yet right now…
Right now his hands, hands she knew could snare a struggling snitch in a vice, could only maintain a weak hold, Kally only able to stare in abject shock. He looked terrible. "Harry," she breathed fearfully, "you could be having a sodding heart attack."
He snorted humorlessly. "Your point?"
Kally made an incredibly upset sound.
At this he cracked an eye, sending her a weak grimace. "It's just not pumping right," he relayed hoarsely. "I'll be fine if I-" he swallowed thickly, wincing. "If I just don't move…for a bit."
She about choked. "Isn't that the same thing?"
Despite the situation, despite the fact that his fingers upon her felt clammy, Kally watched a slow, subtle smirk cross Harry's jaw. "Come on Kaylens. Don't be so dramatic. Heart failure is totally different."
She sputtered. "How is that possibly different?"
His eyes fell tiredly closed. "Kills slower?"
Surely some invisible, magical creature was slowly strangling her. Heart failure. When a heart muscle was damaged, as his had definitely been when it'd lain still for so long, it could get weak. It couldn't keep up with the demands the body was placing on it. It happened to heart attack patients who had been oxygen deprived for too long fairly frequently. Regulus had coldly warned her it could happen to Harry. Even Madame Pomfrey had explained the potentiality to Remus. They'd said it was a possibility when he'd lain unconscious in the hospital wing, but Potter had seemed fine when he'd woken up.
Again she made that same, strangled sound. "Who told you that?" She should have told that portrait yes. Then the mediwitch would already be on her way up here. Then Harry might be alright. He-
As if reading her mind Harry grimaced. "Pomfrey," he croaked. "She explained it, before releasing me."
Her lips parted with mistrust, but Harry's eyes had already fallen shut. Her heart was acutely hurting, a painful daggering within her chest. Her free hand lifted, wanting so very, very desperately to touch him.
But she couldn't.
Her hand fell back onto her legs, her breathing unsteady. Potter's own was labored, hard.
Kally didn't understand. He had been fine before. Together they'd walked all over the castle. He'd bodily, physically hauled her away from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, snaring her by the waist and pulling her down the corridor past every staring portrait and candelabra. They'd kissed so much it'd left her lips swollen. He'd pushed her into window sills. They'd had sex. He'd been physically inside her and he'd been fine.
And now, suddenly, he hadn't been able to even get out of bed on his own. Why?
Kally felt utterly frozen, unable to move. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but instead remained kneeling by his side, her wrist clutched weakly in his cold hand.
It took her a second to realize that Harry's fingertips were digging into the underside of wrist, as if he was checking her pulse. The look of concentration upon his face-
He was silently counting.
She let out a shocked sound. "Harry I'm fine. You're the one-"
He cracked an annoyed glare in her general direction. "War bonds. Could affect you too, Kaylens."
It took her a second to realize what he meant. He was worried, because of what Madame Pomfrey had said about her getting a heart murmur in front of him. But unlike him she was fine. Her lips fell open to tell him just that-
"You came back."
Three words robbed anything she'd been about to say. Her heart positively skipped. "Evidently," she murmured, mouth dry. Her eyes raked over him, sparking with aberrant, upset glimmerings of magic.
Kally needed him to be okay. She needed him to be alright. And here he was, murmuring that she had come back, as if it was his only concern in the world when he sat there barely able to live.
Merlin he was a stubborn ass.
She should move. She should run to get Madame Pomfrey. She should beg the portrait to do so, but Kally could not make herself leave. Harry's grip on her wrist was cool, almost clammy, Kally terrified of what that meant. She'd left once, but she'd come back, and now she didn't dare leave again. An insane, irrational part of her mind was afraid that she'd lose him, that she'd come back only to find him dead and gone again, if she was gone for even a minute.
Harry heaved a hard, heavy breath, as if steeling himself for an unpleasant task. Then his gaze cracked, a cutting look directed towards her as if he'd read her mind. "Why?"
She could only stare, utterly incapable of looking away.
Harry was hurt. She'd left him, and here he was wanting to know why she'd come back? "Merlin, Potter…"
Harry grimaced. "Damn," he dryly told, as if enunciating even that single syllable had proven difficult, "knew you were pissed, Kaylens, but didn't think you'd forget my full name quite that fast."
For a moment, a long moment, Kally simply stared at him and his bad attempt at humor.
Then she let out a half-broken laugh.
Her eyes still burned, the fact that he'd told her she should have left him remaining, but he was joking with her.
Sitting there, alongside him, she saw Harry's mouth twitch just a tad.
"It's not funny, Potter," she choked into the empty dorm, the stone floor digging against her knees as she adjusted.
He flat out snorted. "Sure it's not."
Her heart practically flipped, saying nothing for the longest time. What could she say?
Eventually Harry heaved a sigh, eyes holding hers. "Why'd you come back, Kaylens?" he repeated, sounding almost resigned. His grip on her wrist loosened, slipping away.
The loss of contact was palpable. "Harry…"
He merely shot her a look, a silent demand for her to please shut up and answer the question.
She wet her lips. "I felt you collapse," she answered honestly, rubbing her chest in non-verbal explication. Outside the late May sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting bright streaks on the floor near their feet. The light failed to warm her. "It…it scared me." It'd done more than scare her; it'd sent her into an outright panic.
"Ah," Harry uttered, voice low and scratchy, "that."
He said it as if it were a normal thing. War bonds might not be terribly uncommon, but they certainly weren't normal. Despite this his expression remained unreadable, Kally feeling like she needed to leave, to just go, run and get someone, anyone who might be able to help him.
Still she failed to act. She simply waited with baited breath, murmuring, "You say it like collapsing's normal."
Harry's expression contorted into a grimace, his gaze locking upon hers, green holding gold. "Isn't it?"
Something within her plummeted. "No," she breathed. "No it's not." Harry was close, not close enough to see the darker flecks of green within his irises, the ones she knew to be there, the ones she could get sodding lost in, but he was near enough for her to see the shadow behind his glasses, the one that passed through his eyes as if sodding haunted.
A moment later it was gone, his gaze jerking from her to stare unseeingly across the dorm at the empty four-poster beds. "Well, war bonds are a bitch," he drawled. A second passed, then another, his expression contorted as he hollowly ground, "Don't worry. Doubt you'll have to feel it much longer."
Harry might as well have stabbed her, Kally instantly moving, the word, "No," falling from her lips in panic as her eyes sought the door-
His hand once more snared onto her, this time blindly, the wizard having clearly anticipated where her thoughts would go. "Don't overreact," he growled. "Didn't mean I was dying. Just-" He sounded strained, unbelievably strained. "Once it breaks…you won't have to feel it anymore."
His hand once more slipped from her wrist, Kally feeling as if she could collapse right where she sat. She wanted it back. "Why-why would it break?" she whispered, a pit of dread within her. All she knew about war bonds was that they didn't break, not until death or-
Or until one of the parties simply stopped caring…
Kally sank back onto the floor, staring at him, shaken. Potter couldn't mean he no longer-
No. Not him. Not after everything he'd said to her.
"It won't," she softly promised, eyes flickering wetly across his features. She was mad, upset, but she loved him. It wouldn't sodding break. Kally's stomach was twisting, heart refusing to beat right. Unable to stop herself she pathetically reached out. Hesitantly her fingers found his, closing around Harry's.
It was like being his with electricity, that familiar, welcome tingling attacking her skin. Potter sucked in a breath, gaze clenching for a rough second. Kally did the same. Harry had still felt it. The fact that this tingling was still intact, still present between them had her nearly cry in relief.
When Harry had lain there, pulseless, it'd been gone. If he didn't care she couldn't imagine it'd remain.
Still, Harry did nothing, said nothing. He didn't squeeze her fingers back. He didn't pull her close. He made no move. If she hadn't felt that needed sensation traversing its way across her fingertips, palm, like tiny pinpricks of static electricity, she might as well have been holding his dead hand again.
Confusion clouded Potter's gaze, as if not understanding what the hell she was doing.
"What happened?" she instead quietly questioned. She needed to know why he'd collapsed. Even if he didn't want her anymo-
She stopped that terrifying train of thought. She first needed to make sure he was okay.
Harry just watched her, surveying her as if he did not understand the strange creature sitting before him. His eyebrows just tiredly arched. "Isn't it obvious?"
She shot him a look all of her own, only for him to sigh. "I tried to follow you, Kaylens. Made it about-" he paused, glancing at where they currently sat, caustically finishing, "Well, to about here."
Kally felt awful. "I'm sorry," she said honestly. "I shouldn't have left you."
His gaze jerked away from hers, looking towards the far wall with a frown. "No," he uttered heavily, "you should have."
"Harry why-"
He just shook his head, dark hair slung across his brow almost angrily. His fingers remained incredibly still within the confines of her hand, almost stiff. "Because if this isn't what you want," he bitterly told, "if you don't want to be with me, then you shouldn't stick around." His gaze jerked back to hers, finding her staring in shock. "I warned you this wouldn't be easy, Kaylens. You just never listened."
Her breath caught.
Then he tried to pull his hand from hers, Kally instinctually tightening her fingers in a panic. She couldn't speak; her mouth was too dry. So she just clung to his hand, determinedly intertwining her fingers with his, never once looking away.
Harry glanced at where she held onto him with a frown, before directing a weary look back up at her.
That look alone gutted her.
Kalliandra could barely find her voice. He thought she didn't want this. "I never said that," she brokenly whispered.
Malachite locked onto liquid gold. "Didn't you?"
The challenge was there, his expression drawn, ashen, words unbelievably bitter.
She sucked in a breath, feeling winded. "No," she countered, "I didn't." Fear sliced through her, fear that he'd collapse, fear that he'd leave her. Her chest wrenched in pain just thinking about it, a horrifying thought striking her. "Unless you don't want to be with-"
A growl cut her off, Harry shooting her a look as if she were an imbecile.
Palpable relief flooded her. Despite that, despite her upset, her eyes narrowed, words tremulous even as she tried to inject feeling behind them. "You know for someone so pale you're awfully testy."
His gaze did not waver, merely surveying her for a long, long moment. "Apologies," he finally drawled. "A good chunk of the Order's dead, and I'd like to see you in a good mood after just getting dumped."
Kally's heart stopped. If she'd been dunked in a tub of ice she may have reacted less. The Order…there was nothing she could do about that, but… "You…you think that's what just happened?"
Harry didn't so much as blink. "Isn't it?"
"No!" she exclaimed, renewing her grasp upon his hand. "I just-"
"You said no." Three words. Just three.
Three words that were incredibly broken.
The way he was looking at her…
Her lips parted in quiet realization, stomach sinking. He'd asked one thing of her, just one: Don't say no. He'd practically pled it, despite all the horror that had been happening, that he'd woken up to.
Then she'd done exactly that.
He'd never asked, yet she'd still said no.
It'd been one sodding good thing he might have been able to cling to amidst everyone that was suddenly gone.
Outside a flurry of owls flew past, one landing on the outer ledge, feathers ruffling, oblivious to the drama within. You said no. Kally's heart skipped. "Of course I did," she whispered fiercely, eyes holding his. "I might love you, but I don't fancy being a widow before I'm even eighteen." Her heart skipped at the word, the acknowledgement of what they were talking about. People were dying. He had died. Her words grew stronger, Kally forcing, "And given the way you've been going with all the brash, idiotic, stupidly noble, selfish, suicidal things you've been doing-"
He hoarsely cut her off. "You won't."
Her tirade stopped mid-sentence, lips remaining parted. Something had changed in his gaze, something abrupt.
Between her fingers, his hand felt warmer.
"You can't promise that, Harry," she whispered, upset. "Especially you." Chest wrenching, she angrily pressed, "You just told me, not five minutes ago that I should have left you to sodding die. That I should have killed the horcrux and left you. As if we should just leave people because it's easier. You-"
For the first time since she'd come back into the dorm his hand grabbed onto hers with force, Harry's fingers finally locking with possessive strength between her own.
The effect drove the breath from her, robbing her words. Harry's gaze glinted with sudden determination. "I said could, Kaylens. Not should." His cutting gaze flashed. "Maybe if you'd stuck around long enough to hear the difference you'd have realized I was trying to give you a compliment."
Kally blinked, then blinked again. "You what?"
Sitting on the ground, Harry straightened out one of his legs, as if his energy were slowly returning. "I said," he grated, not bothering to mask the blatant irritation from his voice, "I was trying to give you a compliment." His brow creased so heavily it was a marvel the lines were not permanently etched in his brow. "Part of what I love about you. I saw it. In the waiting room. You refused to give up on me, even though you could have. Easily."
Kally felt like all the air had been deflated from her form. "You're happy I didn't…"
He openly glared at her. "Yes." Viridian raked coldly across her countenance, chilling her. "Bit hard to marry you, Kaylens, if I'm dead, wouldn't you say?"
The deeply caustic words resonated within the silent room. She physically ached. "You said could," she repeated in a bare breath, disbelieving, unable to focus on anything else.
"Did I miss," he darkly questioned, "when I stuttered?" He inclined a dark eyebrow in silent question.
Slowly she had begun to shake, trembling. It took her a second, a long, cold second to realize something. "You're mad at me," she breathed.
He outright snorted, expression stony. "Caught onto that did you?"
"But you still want-"
He shot her a look that could have shattered statues. "Let's not insult either one of our intelligences by acting surprised," he grated coolly. "You and I both know where this is headed."
Kally's insides wrenched, jade irises warring against hazel. The books they had been reading, researching lay long forgotten on his mattress, their only company a pair of muddy Quidditch boots shoved beneath the bed close to where they sat together, on the floor. Where this is headed…
The intensity of Harry's gaze sent hers flying shut. He was mad. At her. He was right to be. She had just assumed he was being an idiot again, that he was already breaking promises, and instead….he hadn't been. He'd been doing the opposite.
She just hadn't listened.
Where this is headed…
Suddenly she wanted to cling to him. She just didn't want to physically hurt him. She hadn't listened. Instead she'd bolted from this very room, not letting him get a word in.
And then he'd collapsed.
She'd felt it.
In the hospital wing she'd overheard Remus telling Pomfrey that she needed to stay, because there was this 'tricky thing with a war bond going on,' and having her close would strengthen his magic. It would help him heal.
She didn't know how, but she'd forgotten Remus had even said that.
Suddenly she understood why he'd gotten so sodding physically ill when she'd left. "Merlin…" she murmured, eyes flying open to behold him, "this is all my fault."
He shot her a long suffering look. "Think my chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome probably had something to do with it too." Gaze raking over hers, he dryly added, "Really Kaylens, if I hadn't made such a habit of doing the things you had such a long list of suitably suicidal adjectives for, maybe you'd not have heard what you thought you did."
She just looked at him, heart skipping. "I'm sorry." Merlin she was. "I'm so sorry, Harry. Are you oka-"
He heaved an irritated breath. "Yes."
They sat there, together on the floor, for an indeterminable time. Kally was only aware of how her chest was lurching, heartbeat fluttering unsteadily within. She was terrified of losing him, but he didn't leave. Instead he kept her fingers firmly ensconced within the confines of his own, the wizard forcing her fingers even tighter between his, as if to remind her that he was there.
Kally closed her eyes, shutting out the Gryffindor bed hangings, shutting out the sunlight spilling in to the ghost town of a tower, shutting out him. All looking around did was remind her that the castle was nearly empty because they were at war, a plague spilling across the world, so many of them dead, and Harry…
Harry still might die in all of it.
"Kally."
She was shivering. The castle wasn't cold, yet the abject fear was finally wearing off, the castle's cold seeping into her…
"Kally," Harry ordered, almost gently, "look at me."
Against her will, like sodding magic her eyes were pulled open, the non-witch staring with naked upset at him. "What?" she whispered.
Harry's eyes met hers, narrowing only slightly, as if thinking over something heavy. "You didn't dump me." It was half-question, half-statement.
Slowly she shook her head, strands of deep gold spilling in front of her eyes. "No." Magic, like fireflies glittered in her gaze, beyond her control. "Harry, I wouldn't-"
Humorlessly he cut her off. "But you still said no." Her lips parted in silent protest, Harry pressing, "Because you thought I said should."
She felt stricken, managing a quiet, "Yes."
Harry studied her seriously, expression uncharacteristically devoid of emotion. "And now?"
Kally could only sit there, heart feeling as if it were being flung against the inside of her chest repeatedly. "You asked me not to answer." She sounded like a small sodding child.
Evidently Harry agreed, outright snorting. "Since when have you ever listened to me?" he posed, arching an eyebrow.
Nervousness twisted within her stomach. "Rarely."
He let out a derisive breath, remaining silent.
Beneath her touch she could feel his hand warming, growing less cool, clammy. Eyes flickering over him, she noted that the ashen cast to his skin was gone.
The silence was unbearable.
"You never asked," she breathed suddenly, feeling the need to point that out.
Then Kally's free hand reached out, hesitantly falling along the side of his neck. Her actions were no longer her own, fingertips sliding down, finding his carotid, its gentle, steady pulsating inexplicably reassuring.
Harry shot her a look, shifting his own position to seize that hand as well. "It's beating," he assured, "better."
Kally felt his fingers slide through hers, Harry's thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. His gaze was unyielding. It did not waver. He did not look away. Afternoon sunlight reflected within it.
Suddenly Kally's own breathing was so, so hard. A frown creased Harry's brow. "You're right," he granted. "I didn't ask." A shadow passed through his eyes, Harry practically stripping her defenses with barely six words. "Do you still want me to?"
The question came out so rough it sent fissures through her. "Let's not," she whispered, echoing his earlier words, "insult either of our intelligences by asking obvious questions."
Sitting there, in the empty dorm, not a single candelabra lit upon the walls, Harry's eyes were practically ablaze.
"You love me," he stated simply.
Despite herself her lips twitched. "Only," she said in quiet, teasing explication, "a little."
An acerbic glint entered his eyes. "Liar."
A strong breeze could have knocked her down right then. "Shut up, Harry." Relief flooded her. The pain in her chest was subsiding, which meant that the pain in his was. He wasn't expecting her to just leave him.
A long time passed before either one of them again spoke.
Ultimately it was him that broke the silence.
"So," Harry said, swallowing thickly, "what are we going to do about this?"
Kally studied him: the slope of his jaw, the way his unruly hair slung across his brow, the glint in his eyes. "Whatever we want," she murmured honestly. The way his hands flexed within hers…Merlin…
Harry just regarded her solemnly, too many emotions swirling within his gaze for her to count. The wizard simply held onto both of her hands, that unbelievably simple, innocent action inexplicably calming.
"I meant what I said."
She wet her lips. "Which part?"
"That you could have left me," he responded with immediacy. "It would have made sense, made getting rid of the horcrux easier. Yet you didn't."
Her heart jerked at the sudden reversion to their previous conversation, and yet this time she listened. "Getting rid of it isn't worth it if it means getting rid of you," she countered fiercely. It wasn't. Meeting his gaze, she added, "What was it you said? Others might be concerned with killing him, but you're more concerned with making sure the world we're left with is one still worth living in?" He'd said that to her, alongside the Black Lake. It'd stuck with her.
A shadow passed through his eyes. "You honestly think," he grated, "you can kill it?"
Kally nodded quickly. "Yes. I just-" She paused. "I still want to practice on another one, Harry." She couldn't risk harming him. Sitting there, in the silent dormitory, he seemed to understand. And still…
"I don't want you to get hurt trying to rescue me, Kally." He said it intractably.
"If I do," she said simply, honestly, "as long as you're still alive, I'll recover." She meant it.
Harry heaved a sigh, leaning his head back against the bed frame. It looked like he was thinking deeply, ruminating over something heavy.
He probably was. She couldn't imagine that any of this was easy for him. Hazel eyes flickered over his face, studying the set of his jaw, the line of his lips, slowly moving towards his scar, proof of what they were fighting against.
Without her permission Kally had slipped her hand from his, fingers reaching out on their own volition, hesitantly smoothing away the dark hair covering his brow.
Harry did not move. He made no attempt to. His eyes simply shifted to her, watching her.
With a breath her fingers touched it, running across the rough, marred skin of his lightning bolt scar. A shudder shook Harry, Kally barely able to comprehend what she was doing. "You're amazing," she softly relayed. That tingling was within her fingertips, proof that there was more magic between them than just normal wizardry.
Her fingers trailed lightly across the scar, before falling away, slipping down to the rough stubble covering his jaw. He still hadn't shaved after his stint in the hospital wing. Kally looked at him, breath catching. The horcrux within him, and its malevolence… "It's so angry," she told quietly. "And you…." Her eyes shifted to meet his, frowning. "You're not."
The line of his mouth grew strained. "Actually," he ground hollowly, "I am."
She was already shaking her head, words carefully chosen. "Not with me." Pausing, lips turning subtly, she murmured, "Well…least not when I don't deserve it." Storming out like that…
Potter stared at her like she'd spoken a different language.
Abruptly he moved.
Harry's hand was against the side of her face so fast she couldn't comprehend how it'd gotten there, his hands sliding over her skin with a gentleness she hadn't known he'd possessed. "Never," he uttered. "Never with you."
Before she could so much as murmur a syllable he had moved again, his arm snaring possessively around her lower back, tugging her abruptly across the floor, pulling her close. Kally let him, unable and unwilling to protest. His brow thudded against hers, Potter hovering there for a brief, nerve-shattering moment, his breath ghosting against her lips…
Their position, there on the dormitory floor, leaning against the bed frame, was awkward, but it didn't matter. Harry's mouth still pressed to hers, his movements slow, cherishing. It was as if he desired to memorize every centimeter of her mouth. It wasn't a sodding happy kiss. So many were sodding dead; unlike the others at the funerals their grieving was on hold. Kally's hands slid up along Potter's strong arms, allowing him to do what he wanted. She didn't care. She just needed him near her, in her space, so she could feel that he was okay.
Harry made a sound, groaning against her.
He then recklessly deepened it, as if the need to get her closer was beyond even his control. He'd tugged her brutally onto his legs, hands dragging roughly down her back, her own sliding up into his hair, grasping handfuls of messy black.
Harry's lips silently worshipped hers the same way hers worshipped his.
Kally felt fingers digging against her spine, it both painful and sending a pleasurable shudder through her all at once. Harry clutched her to him, groaning against her lips as they both forgot about the basic need for oxygen.
There, on the floor, they simply kissed. It was innocent, but Merlin if it didn't mean something. The way he touched her, moved, made her nearly forget he'd been going into sodding heart failure minutes before. Now…
Now he was anything but that.
It wasn't until they'd paused, breathing bonelessly against one another, that concerned words spilled forth. "Harry…" she whispered, fingertips sliding down his shoulder, to his chest, "are you…how are you okay?" The sickly, ashen-gray that he'd been before, as his heart had flat out refused to pump...it was in her mind, her memory. The fact that it could come back, to do that to him again, was terrifying.
Now though….his heart was certainly pumping now. Now he was very much alive, alright. The way his hands moved over the contours of her form, gripping her sides, moving their ways up her ribcage proved that. With a rough breath his brow thudded against hers, their foreheads pressing together simply to maintain contact.
Malachite irises with flecks of deeper green met hers. "I haven't a damn clue," he confessed. His grip tightened upon the back of her head, words a meaningful murmur, "Not that I'm complaining."
Kally's throat was tight, scared. "I could still," she quietly proposed, "get Pomfrey."
The sound he made told her all she needed to know. He wasn't leaving, nor was he allowing her to.
Their faces were so close, pressing together. Her long lashes fluttered against Harry's, lips brushing his. He hadn't a clue how he was okay…yet she had to be certain. She had to know if he really was, and how to keep him that way. If he was weak, in any sodding way, if something happened when she wasn't looking…
Remus' words in the hospital wing came back to her, her breath catching. "I think I know who might."
Harry's brow furrowed against hers, Kally already reaching into her back pocket, searching for the compact she always carried, even as she once more began kissing him.
ECOTS
Funerals never went the way you thought they would.
Today for instance, there was no ever-present rain. There was no somber theme music. There was not a plethora of crying women or supportive hugs being proffered. There were not truncated sobs at every turn.
No.
Instead there were just people, many of whom rarely saw one another, gathered in one place, making awkward conversation as they offered hollow condolences, whilst someone inevitably cooked. The scent of freshly baked biscuits and pie permeated the Burrow, pecan having been Arthur's favorite.
No. None of the things the naive would expect with a funeral were present. The only real thing present was the dysfunction.
Most, who hadn't experienced as many burials in their life as Remus had, tended to not know that about funerals. People rarely got along. People argued vehemently. People offered silence as treatment. People weren't there for one another the way they should be. People simply did not know what to say.
Life went on, with each individual selfishly trying to survive as best they could without going under.
This went a long way in explaining why Percy Weasley, who had missed Bill's funeral, had shown up today. Molly had brokenly welcomed him with open arms, but that had been before he'd gone upstairs and in the words of Fred Weasley, "Pulled a Perce and opened his mouth."
Whatever he'd stated had resulted in Dean Thomas having to subdue Ginny with a sleeping charm and in Ron outright tackling Percy straight down the stairwell. A claw may have come out and snared the elder, former Prefect across the midsection, Ron having been unable to control his werewolfism in the throes of his angered, emotional state.
That had resulted in a lot of blood, copious screaming, and several broken bones, which had sent Percy Weasley straight to St. Mungo's.
Ron, however, had just rolled his neck, werewolf blood having made him far more sturdy. The fall down the Burrow's not inconsiderable stairwell had done little to injure him. Instead he'd silently watched Percy be Floo-ed out of the Burrow with a look of such calm, fury that Remus had been actually chilled.
Percy had not gone quietly. There had been shouting about lawsuits and enforced werewolf registration at his kid brother.
Remus, Charlie, and Moody had all nailed the Ministry worker with Obliviation charms. It hadn't been planned, but Percy would be lucky if he remembered his own name after that, let alone that Ron was a werewolf.
The fireplace flamed green, Charlie stumbling back in with a strained look that he instantly leveled on Ron. "You couldn't have just hexed him like a normal person could you of? Mungos was asking questions. Had to tell them we found him out in the marsh like that." He wiped his soot-covered hands off on his pants.
Ron scoffed unsympathetically, arms folded over his chest. "Should have left him out back by the compost pile."
George Weasley outright snorted.
"Wizard's right," Moody growled. "Could have dumped him in one of those bins in Muggle London near Mungos and it'd have been more realistic. No questions asked." He lifted the patch off his magical eye, scrutinizing Charlie with disapproval. "Now they'll be asking questions about where and why and how you were involved in finding him, lad."
Charlie Weasley flexed tensely. "Bastard or not, Mad Eye, he's still our brother. I'm not just dumping him somewhere for some Muggle thief to knife him while he's unconscious."
Alastor grinned like a shark. "Bleeding like that and I'd have been more concerned with what the rats woulda done to him."
Charlie balked, Fred Weasley walking in with blood cleaner. Remus had only a moment to wonder why exactly Molly had that in such strong supply. "Nah," Fred chimed in, "the rats wouldn't have touched him. Those trash-eating rapscallions have better taste."
"Even the Muggle underground ones," George said from his spot by the stairs, where he'd been attempting to scourgify the evidence.
Fred waved a hand. "Too much effort to drag him down in the station and over the underground's tracks. Besides, reckon the prefectorial stench puts them off."
George paused, looking thoughtful. "Sewer rats might've taken a go."
"Now there's an idea."
Ron Weasley looked considerably less despondent at the prospect of his older brother being eaten alive by diseased rodents.
"Then again…"
"Even the sewer rats might find ole Perce unpalatable."
"Pity," Fred observed, popping a biscuit into his mouth with one hand and dumping the cleaning solution with the other. "Even that'd have been better than he deserved."
"Yeah, George agreed, flicking his wand at the slowly fading stain and frowning. "Now Ron might get in trouble, Charles."
Charlie rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. "They can't prove it was Ron who mauled him, Fred-"
From the corner Ron Weasley protested, "Mauled? That was barely a scratch!"
Fred snorted, spraying pieces of crumbling bakery in all directions. "Oh yes, only a mild near evisceration."
"Still, what if they figure it out?" George demanded, a flash of concern on his face.
Charlie made a disgruntled sound. "You know poor behavior or not he's still your brother too." He went silent, quietly adding, "We're running out of them."
Remus heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly leaving the room to allow the quarreling siblings privacy. Molly had already been led away by Tonks, the Auror attempting to mollify her over her children's behaviors.
Percy has been absent, until today.
Charlie had gone into overprotective mode.
Ron was sullen, angry.
Ginny had been quiet. That was, until Percy had arrived. Currently she was knocked out upstairs, Dean waiting for the sleeping spell to wear off. No one wanted to risk enervating her, on the grounds that 'they were all in possession of reasonable sanity' and 'if Thomas was dumb enough to hex her, he could deal with the consequences alone.'
George was sticking so close to Fred it was a marvel Fred hadn't hexed his own twin. Having lost Bill and his father, on a mission he had not been a part of, had clearly affected him for the worse.
He could have lost Fred and not been there.
Fred had simply grown matter-of-fact, practical, his jokes far fewer and in between, smiles never quite reaching his eyes.
Remus was out the back door, standing at the cusp of the marsh within mere minutes, his brown eyes raking over the swaying reeds. Being inside…it brought up too many memories of Lilly and James, Cassilyda, even Sirius, though the latter had not had a funeral. There'd been no body to do so.
Plus, burying a fugitive you'd been harboring had proved to be a somewhat complicated matter.
"We cleared your name, Padfoot," he told thin air, rubbing his head tiredly. It was hollow consolation, given his friend was still dead.
Remus reached the perimeter, Hermione and Luna Lovegood engaged in quiet conversation. "Ladies," he greeted, "time for a break, wouldn't you say?" The two turned, Hermione looking concerned, Luna looking a bit distracted.
"Professor," Hermione said, looking at her watch, "you're early."
Luna glanced over her shoulder, blonde hair glistening in the sun. "Do werewolves operate on Madagascar time, Remus?"
Despite the painful core at Arthur's absence he smiled. "When in Madagascar…" he said evasively, playing along. Turning back to Hermione, he told, "I haven't been your Professor for a long time, Hermione. However," glancing back towards the Burrow, "I think Ron may need a friendly face."
Hermione's face, so young when he'd first met her, yet now having donned the elegance of youth with that of an of-age witch, instantly darted towards the Weasley's home. "Ron? Is he okay?" The urgent note in her voice he did not miss, the wizard once again suppressing a smile.
"There was perhaps," he stated, "a small disagreement between him and Percy."
Her brown eyes flew wide, Hermione whipping around so fast that her ponytail smacked her in her face. She took off towards the Burrow, Luna following at a more sedate pace. "Goodbye Remus. If there's a zombie apocalypse let us know."
With that she flounced off, the exuberance of youth still within her step. Remus watched her leave, wondering at what their lives would have been like had they never known war, plague, deaths.
"Helluva time for infighting," came a familiar growl, tugging Remus from his macabre thoughts.
His light brown eyes darted towards Mad Eye, the grizzled ex-Auror having apparently followed him outside.
The gnarled wizard was staring past Remus, off into the distance, wand out. His eye patch had been flipped up onto his brow, magical eye spinning in its empty socket to see all angles. "Guard in pairs, Wolfy. Ought to know better," he growled in reprimand, Remus internally groaning.
"Tonks just had" he growled, "to share that nickname with you, didn't she?"
Moody smirked downright wolfishly.
Remus groaned, rubbing his head again. He and Moody had been the only survivors on board the ship that night, the guilt something that gnawed at them both.
It was why they had volunteered for guard duty at the Burrow, taking turns with Hestia, Elphias, Luna, Hermione, Neville, Tonks, Hagrid and Flitwick, to stand guard for the Weasley family.
With so many Order members gathered here over the past few days, it'd have made a prime target for Death Eater attack. They needed protecting.
Remus would mourn privately later. For now he just considered the comment about infighting. "What'd you expect?" he finally ground. "Peace, love and siblings who don't quarrel?"
Moody staggered forward on his peg leg, the wood magically enchanted to not sink into the mud at the marsh's edge. "I'd have expected them to hex that family traitor off their front stoop. That boy has been far too loyal to the wrong sort in the Ministry for far too long. And he," Mad Eye did not have to emphasize who he was, "has eyes, spies everywhere." He tapped his magical eye for emphasis, his fingertip clacking against it.
Remus actually winced. The idea of Percival Weasley being a spy for Voldemort was not one he'd have given much consideration to.
Then again, he'd never have suspected Peter either.
"Besides," Moody practically growled, "I don't like it." He nodded stiffly back at the Burrow. "Having this many of us together leaves us open to you-know-who and his friends. It won't take a genius of Albus' proportions to figure out where all of the Order is. Bad practice, gathering the whole resistance here in one spot."
Remus frowned. "We have protective spells in place Alastor. You helped cast them."
"There are never enough protective spells. You of all people know that."
Even the Fidelius had a fail point. The blow to his gut proved Alastor correct. Remus moved past it. "Some are at Hogwarts. Harry, Kalliandra, Minerva-"
"Ah yes, a resistance of three and the sniveling traitor-friend of Albus'," Moody mused aloud, obviously referring to Snape. "I never did like him. If anything we should be guarding Harry."
A part of Remus agreed, but instead he said, "Hogwarts is as secure a place as any for him. If that were to fall…"
If Hogwarts fell…then there would be a whole new set of problems.
Moody outright guffawed. "Oh yes. The foolproof bastion of safety. It's not as if his most loyal servant of all once polyjuiced himself as a Professor while another scuttled around as a rat beneath half the Order's noses there with dementors infiltrating the Quidditch pitch at all."
Lupin could feel a headache coming on. The ex-Auror was not wrong. Hogwars had many flaws. There had been many mistakes, many involving Harry. Some had cost students their lives. Cedric Diggory, Seamus Finnegan, Myrtle Warren…
"We will do better," he said, grim determination in his eyes.
Moody shook his head again, the eyeball rattling loudly in its socket. It only stopped when he smacked his own temple, knocking it back into place. "Still, Remus, it's bad business, gathering all of us here."
"We bury our dead, Alastor."
The one-eyed wizard simply growled, sliding his eye patch back into place. "Maybe, but spectacles that could create more are hardly wise. Cremation woulda been best." He tapped the side of his head with his wand, uttering, "Times a-tickin' Remus. We don't have much of it. Harry needs trained."
"Harry," Remus disagreed staidly, "needs to rest and recover."
Moody outright snorted. "Ah yes, leaving him alone in a big, empty castle with that girlfriend of his and no adult supervision. I'm sure that's what he's doing." He winked, it an utterly terrifying expression on the man.
Remus closed his eyes and tried to not shudder. That mental imagery him seriously contemplate the merits of signing up for an elective lobotomy.
Alastor simply cackled, before he wandered off, presumably to continue his search of the perimeter, the clank, clack of the wizard's peg leg loud in the stark silence.
Remus shot a glare after him, before walking out a little ways away from the Burrow in an attempt to remove those images from his head. Damn't Moody.
It wasn't until he was far off, standing out within the reeds, that the somberness, the stark and utter silence of the scenery struck him. No birds sang, no crickets chirped. The wind only blew soundlessly.
It was as if nature mourned with them.
Arthur Weasley, a man with a family, was gone. Yet he had lived. He and Alastor, men without families. It almost didn't seem right.
No matter how much he reluctantly cared for Nymphadora, he knew he'd have made a better victim than someone with seven children.
Children. That was a whole other thought. Amidst the horror, amidst the chaos, amidst the war, and Tonks wanted children. She'd casually mentioned it upon finding him alive. In fact, her exact words upon pouncing upon him in that life raft had been, "Remus! I am screwing you until we have octuplets!"
In retrospect, it had been a very Tonks-like thing to say.
A sad smile strained his pursed lips as he looked back at the Burrow, the haphazard home leaning in multiple directions, magically supported. A family… part of him contemplated the wisdom of giving in, of pursuing anything with her. Perhaps he should have continued to fight the tide against her advances, against young Emily Bothan's running commentary, the little girl having apparently seen their marriage like she'd seen so much else before it had happened.
He couldn't imagine what that must be like for the child. A Muggle psychic. An actual, real one.
That child needed protection: Voldemort could not find out about her abilities.
Remus' head swirled with too many conflicting thoughts, emotions. He drug a hand through his hair, standing out, alone within the marsh, seeing only a still looking home, no sign of Death Eaters, and an endless yet beautiful landscape just outside Ottery St. Catchpole.
It was then, as if in response to his innermost turmoil regarding family, children, young Emily Bothan, Tonks, deaths, war, that one of the other young adults in his life decided to reach out.
Within his pocket something warmed, Remus pulling his eyes away from the countryside towards the well-worn pocket watch hanging from his belt loop.
It was glowing.
Immediately he frowned, snaring it and flipping it open. He'd told Kalliandra that he was part of an alternating guard for the Weasley family, so if she was interrupting that…
Bright sunlight glinted off the metal edges, but the glass did not reflect the surrounding scene. Instead, on the other side of the two-way mirror was Kalliandra, tiny pinpricks of light dancing within her irises as Remus stood within a sea of golden reeds and blue sky.
It wasn't the reflection of the sunlight making Kalliandra's eyes sparkle like that. Kally's eyes only did that when she was upset or had recently drawn.
It would have alarmed him had it not been for her incredibly calm tonality. "Remus, I'm sorry to bother you but-"
"Kally," he greeted flatly, searching the small two-way mirror's image. He saw no form of the anticipated destruction or chaos that could have prompted this call, Moody's disdain for the safety Hogwarts offered prominent within his mind. "Is everything alright?"
He somewhat failed at keeping the urgent note from his tone.
In the small mirror concealed within the pocket watch he saw Kally's gaze flicker away, as if looking at someone outside his field of view, before she turned hastily back to him. "Back in the hospital wing I overheard you telling Madame Pomfrey something," she said, cutting straight to it. "You told her I needed to stick close to Harry, because it would help him heal. How?"
The girl was forever direct. Remus also could not help but notice how she conveniently avoided answering his question about 'if everything was alright.' "Kalliandra…" he began, sounding somewhat irritated.
"Remus, please?"
Instantly his brow creased, his torn leather boots sinking into the damp earth of the marsh. At some point he'd inadvertently wondered directly into a puddle.
His wolfish eyes narrowed with a combination of worry and suspicion. "Why are you asking?"
Kally's eyes narrowed right back, a lock of golden hair slipping in front of her eyes. "You never explained it fully. And..." she bit down on the corner of her lip, a nervous habit, "it may have come up."
Remus had left them alone for two days after Harry had woken up to stand guard at the Burrow. Two days.
He sighed tiredly and silently cursed teenagers. "Is Harry okay?"
The look she shot him through the mirror could have levelled lesser wizards. "I'm okay too, thanks for asking. Your concern is astounding. And yes, he is. Well…" Once more she did that strange eye flicker towards something just outside of the mirror's view. "Sort of."
A low growl resonated from deep within his chest. "Define," he stated ominously, "sort of."
The girl's eyes rolled, letting out an exasperated sigh before the entire scene changed, Harry's face suddenly emerging. "Hey Mooney."
Remus' eyes narrowed, studying him with a fierce frown before declaring, "He looks fine."
Harry raised a dark eyebrow. "Gee, thanks."
From just out of the frame he heard Kalliandra chiming in, "He didn't before, Remus. I've seen pictures of banshees that looked better than him."
In the mirror Harry scowled, leveling a glower outside the frame, presumably towards Kalliandra. "Pile on why don't ya?"
A huff was the off-mirror response, Remus sighing heavily as the mirror moved slightly, Harry apparently forgetting to hold it level as he became too absorbed in glaring at his girlfriend.
That moment of inattention left Remus with a view of exactly where the two were at.
Any relief he might have felt at seeing Harry looking full and intact – he would not have put it past Kalliandra to have killed him after he'd sacrificed himself on the island, in fact, he'd been expecting word of a hexing match any day – disappeared the second he noticed the four poster bed in the background. Those Gryffindor bed hangings were not something one easily forgot.
He also noticed a leg, on top of Harry's, that obviously did not belong to the wizard.
The Reach was obviously sitting on him.
"Why is it," he stated with a dangerous kind of calm, a blackbird flying past and landing on top of a reed, "that every time you both contact me via this mirror that you are in the boy's dorms?"
The entire scene tumbled, a loud thwump heard as the mirror was clearly dropped, smacking into the dormitory floor if Remus' sudden view of the ceiling was anything to judge by. The Marauder pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed it hard. Not two minutes of talking with the offspring of James Potter and he was rapidly developing a headache.
"You are definitely," he bemoaned, "James' son." He had lost complete and utter count of the number of times he'd come back to the dorms to find James Potter in them with a girl. Of course, that had been before he had decided to focus on Lilly and only Lilly towards the end of their sixth year.
Not to mention compared to Sirius, James had hardly been a ladies man.
At least Harry had not taken to blatant philandering and stuck with one girl. He supposed that was something. Improvement? Lilly's genes? They were far more reasonable ones. At any rate, Remus would not have to kill him for hurting Kalliandra.
The mirror flipped, now showing the two most prominent teenagers in his life. Harry was dragging a hand through his dark hair, it sticking up at every possible angle and defying basic laws of physics and gravity, whilst Kally had her attentions fixed firmly on the mirror.
"I'm not apologizing for having her up here, Mooney," Harry said, oddly firmly.
Remus ignored this, remembering the leg he'd just seen when the mirror had been jostled around. "Was she sitting on you?"
Harry's hand froze on top of his head, his best friend's son looking caught. Just as quickly the Seeker must have decided that he didn't care. "What do you think?"
Remus sighed heavily. "Would it be possible for you both to exercise a bit of…decorum before two-way mirroring me in the future? I'm old. I can only take so much trauma in one day."
Through the mirror, loud enough to rise above the rising arguments from within the Burrow, he heard both teenagers distinctly snort.
Which brought him back to the reason they'd two-way mirrored him to begin with. "Alright," he stated, wanting to finish with this conversation to get back to keeping lookout, "what were you two fighting about?" Both teenagers opened their mouths, as if to protest, Remus suddenly remembering the chat he and Harry had months back, about taking precautions and what his intentions were.
The werewolf hastily held up a hand to cut them off before he could be scarred for life. "You know, scratch that. I don't want to know." Given where they presently were - something he'd deal with later - he really did not need any descriptions that could provide horrifying imagery. He was still damaged over walking in on James and Lilly making up from a fight, and that had been almost two decades ago. "Whatever it was, is it resolved?"
Sunlight beat down on his shoulders, the Marauder waiting with limited patience as Harry and Kalliandra exchanged looks, hesitance and something deep in their eyes. Harry was the one to ultimately respond. "Yeah Mooney, we're good."
Through the mirror he eyed them both skeptically.
Kalliandra drug a hand through her long hair, as if contemplating tugging it out. "Remus, honestly…"
He let out a long suffering sigh. "What exactly," he questioned, "happened, that was so important it required interrupting guard duty today of all days?"
"Harry started having symptoms of heart failure," Kalliandra stated. "All gray skinned, pale, clammy. Kind of resembled a Mummy-"
"Seriously?" Harry protested.
Kally continued, completely ignoring him. "Ringing any bells?"
Remus felt a sickening lump in his chest. If today was not today he would surely have apparated back to Hogsmeade, walked to Hogwarts, then stormed the Gryffindor tower. As it was, he couldn't just leave the Burrow. He could owl Minerva though. "I take it that he's seen Madame Pomfrey then?"
Kally visibly winced, Remus realizing the answer immediately. "Kalliandra-"
"It's my fault, Mooney. I wouldn't let her go."
Wicked hazel shifted towards Harry. He racked his mind for everything he knew about war bonds, what he and Dumbledore had discussed, and what Regulus and Madame Pomfrey had stated about Harry's current condition.
It occurred to him rather suddenly that he'd done a piss poor job of explaining the nuances to them. He seemed to recollect having promised to do so before being sent off on a reconnaissance mission for the Order weeks ago, and then they'd been sent to the island.
Amidst all of that he'd forgotten to, making the assumption they'd understand the implications themselves.
Then again, he'd also promised to send Harry a list of contraceptive spells to avoid having any miniature Prongs created. Remus might be protective but he wasn't dumb. The two teenagers were wizarding adults now. Kalliandra already was, and Harry would be, by legal standards, in less than two months' time.
He swore beneath his breath.
"Alright," he stated, studying the visage appearing in the mirror closely. "Are you sure you are okay, Harry?"
Harry nodded. Kally just frowned. "Remus can you just explain-"
Now scanning the sky for signs of approaching brooms he hastily cast a privacy charm around himself, then started speaking as if dictating to a Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "War bonds are blood magic. Ancient blood magic. Their whole purpose is to aid the parties involved in surviving whatever war is currently going on." He shot them both a stern look, adding, "After all, the only logical reason for two parties to be….snogging," he sounded distinctly uncomfortable even to himself, "during a battle would be if battle was a constant state of life."
Remus' tone changed, growing considerably more sarcastic. "They of course would not be doing it due to a lack of self-control just outside of Hogsmeade, and the complete and utter inability of one to just ask out the other on a normal date." The two had literally tugged out one another's hair and destroyed a sizeable section of the Headmaster's office rather than admit to liking one another.
Harry snickered, Kally shooting him one of those looks only females could master. "Really?" she hissed.
"What?" the son of Prongs responded innocently, an amused glint that Remus did not often see entering his eyes. "You've never seen yourself in a wet t-shirt after taking a dip in a pond."
Remus made a sound like a dying dog, both teenagers' heads whipping back to the mirror as if having temporarily forgotten that Remus was even there.
He wondered if it were too late to dig a hole of his own to crawl into it. They'd be at the cemetery shortly. It'd be awfully convenient.
"Sorry Mooney," Harry interrupted his thoughts. "Gotta admit we are in a constant state of war though. Have to enjoy what we can."
The Marauder shot Harry a look to convey his pure lack of amusement. "We're not quite that bad yet, Harry. The kind of fighting I'm referring to is unrelenting, where there is no downtime, no peace," his eyes shifted away from the pocket watch towards the Weasley's home, a frown darkening his prematurely aged face, "no time to bury one's dead..." Abruptly he looked back. "We may be heading that way, but we are not quite there yet."
Harry's expression soured. "Oh goodie." Green eyes then attempted to flicker around him, his brow creasing as if looking for something-
"Ron and Ginny," Remus anticipated the question, "are alright, Harry."
If anything, Harry just seemed to frown more, something like guilt in his expression. "Mrs. Weasley? Fred, George-"
"All as well as can be expected. Though I cannot say the same for Percy."
Harry suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Percy was there?"
"Regrettably," he confirmed, "though a real pity. He's gone and landed himself in St. Mungo's. I believe in a cross-section of the trauma and memory wards?" He spun his wand in hand with an idle, pointed whistle, allowing Harry to see the expression.
The dark haired ghost of James laughed, Kalliandra shooting him a curious look. "Who's Percy?"
"Ron and Ginny's brother," Harry responded immediately. "Works for the Ministry and thinks I'm a bit…" he paused, searching for the right word, "unstable."
"Well," Kally mused, small smile teasing her lips, "he's not wrong."
Harry scowled.
"What? I never said it was a bad thing."
Now Harry growled.
"Remus who in the name of Godric Gyffindor's ghost are you talking to?" Moody's guttural growl cut through the privacy charm, noise able to get in, but not out. At some point he'd seen Remus holding the two-way mirror, and knowing what it was had obviously zoomed in with his magical eye.
The Marauder just shook his head at him, before pointing at his forehead in the approximate location of Harry's scar to indicate that it was Harry.
Moody frowned fiercely and started to walk over, pushing tall reeds aside-
Remus held up a staying hand to indicate that everything was fine and that there was no need.
Well, as fine as things could be when the two most important teenagers in your life two-way mirrored you from the Hogwarts' boys' dormitories to state one had been going into heart failure, presumably due to a teenage fight. His chest jerked. "Harry," he stated seriously, turning the topic away from death to study him through the glass, "are you sure you are alright?"
For a second Prongs' son said nothing, then nodded.
Remus' near-brown eyes flickered over him in scrutiny for another moment, before he felt satisfied.
Kally was the one to interrupt the two. "Remus, not to be rude but…can you just expound upon this? Please?"
Remus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, soft dirt under his feet. "This is my fault for not explaining things earlier…"
"Mooney…" This time it was Harry.
Obviously he was outnumbered. "These types of bonds serve to strengthen the magic of the parties involved," he explained, "to increase their odds of survival. Since you both have remnants of magical species in you, species with healing properties, those would naturally be enhanced by it." He grimaced. "From my understanding if Harry wasn't partially bonded to Fawkes already," eyes flickering towards Kalliandra, "or to you to strengthen that, he wouldn't have survived at all. From what Regulus said the damage to his heart was severe."
From the mirror he heard an audible intake of breath, Kalliandra looking stricken. But that was not what caught Remus' attention.
It was the way Harry was looking at her, as if wanting to say, do something to comfort her. The familiarity in the look, one so eerily reminiscent of his father, caused a strangely warm feeling to fill Remus.
Whatever they had been fighting about was obviously done with.
Kalliandra was wetting her lips. "So that whole…increased magic thing is the only thing letting him heal?"
It wasn't the exact news he'd like to deliver via two-way mirror, particularly given he'd thought they'd fully understood that already, but they were at war, and he was part of a guard. "From what you've just relayed, it's a possibility," he stated. "At the very least, it was what got Harry over the deadly 'hump,' so-to-speak. I'm surprised Madame Pomfrey didn't explain this to you both."
Harry outright snorted. "I might have rushed her a bit." Seeing the looks both he and Kalliandra shot him, he hastily added, "I was eager to get out. And to be fair I felt fine at the time." He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and yet…
"Can he heal? Completely? Or is he just going to be like…like this?"
The sudden question had come from Kalliandra, Harry's expression growing instantly drawn at her expression. "Kal…"
She absently reached out a hand as if to try to cover his mouth, shushing him. Harry swatted at her.
Remus intervened before either could go farther down that path. "In a few weeks, yes. Harry has diluted phoenix tears in him to begin with, and," turning a somewhat proud look onto him, "is a powerful wizard in his own right. His magic alone, given enough time, probably would have been enough. Wizards heal remarkably well, Kalliandra, assuming they can survive the initial injury. Just in this case, the initial injury would have typically been unsurvivable."
Kalliandra suddenly looked very young. "Okay," she whispered.
Harry eyed her with a worried expression. "I'm okay, Kally."
The girl's eyes closed, looking affected.
Remus swallowed thickly at the exchange, pressing on. He did not want to linger on the fact that they'd nearly lost Harry. "He'll heal, Kally. Between the magic-enhancing bond you both have and Fawkes, he will." His eyes narrowed sternly. "He just has to stay far away from anything involving the war until then. Understood?"
Harry looked positively thrilled – sarcasm intended - but Kalliandra's eyes had remained closed, as if thinking things over. "So, I have to stay in the same room as Harry then. Keep close proximity?" Her eyes flew open, looking horrified. "But I left a few times when he was in the hospital wing to shower and-"
Remus held up a hand before she could get too far down that guilt-stricken train of thought. "I'm afraid it's not quite that simple, Kalliandra. Proximity certainly helps, but in war people are often separated. It'd do little good if it were only effective whilst in one another's eye-line."
At this Harry raised an eyebrow. "Mooney, English."
Despite himself he smiled, sunlight reflecting off the smooth glass. The pair was quite good at inquisitions. "The phoenix tears are self-explanatory. However, the effects of the bond remain even when separated Harry, so long as both parties feelings remain intact, and both parties are aware the feelings are intact." He gave them a moment for that information to sink in. "According to the reading I did, once I suspected what had occurred for the two of you, it's always going to be stronger when you are both immediately around the other. Proximity will strengthen it, but the feelings are the vital component, so there is some benefit even when separated. The stronger the feelings, the stronger the bond. Fighting weakens it, and given that Harry's heart is still quite literally healing, if either one of you thought the other was no longer interested or began to care less than the magic would weaken, and the healing currently in progress would slow." Once more he paused, meaningfully adding, "Thus my assumption that you two must have fought."
At that Remus pointedly waited for questions, several birds flying past overhead, casting long shadows from the noon sun along the grass.
Kalliandra was worrying her lower lip, as if trying to bite a hole through it. "So if Harry thought I'd dumped him…"
Remus inclined a disapproving eyebrow. "That would certainly do it."
Harry drug a hand through his hair, wincing. Kally simply looked a bit ashen. "I thought he was being an overly noble and selfish ass…"
Harry shot her a look, to which Kalliandra now winced. "I said I was sorry didn't I?"
Once again Remus cursed teenagers. Life though, regardless of how much death there was in the world, went on. There was no stopping it, no halting it, no fighting it. This…this had to be dealt with. Unbeknownst to the two they had just provided him with a way to more accurately gauge Harry's health.
"Kalliandra," he stated bluntly, "might I speak with Harry alone for a moment?"
Before she could even open her mouth to respond, Harry did for her.
"Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of her Remus."
Mooney merely inclined an eyebrow. "I need an honest, untainted answer out of you, Harry. No offense, but I've found teenagers tend to have…difficulty providing such unless it is confidential." He'd seen James falter enough in front of Lilly to know that much. Hell, he had his own experiences with Tonks at this juncture.
"Harry it's fine." Kalliandra attempted to get up, only for Harry to snare her by the arm and tug her back down next to him, his green gaze – so shockingly like Lilly's – staring directly through the mirror at him. "Mooney, talk."
Kalliandra's hazel eyes closed, the girl heaving a weary sigh.
A loud crunching was heard, the privacy charm around him rippling violently as Mad Eye cast a spell, walking right through it and up to them.
"You're neglecting guard duty, Lupin." The ex-Auror wasted no time in invading Remus' personal space, narrowing his one good eye critically onto the mirror. "Ah Potter, good to see ya alive." That same eye swiveled towards where Kalliandra sat, still looking distinctly out-of-place. "Girl," he said, "you taking care of Potter here?"
A look of recognition flickered upon her face, Kally nodding. "Yes, well…" she cast a sidelong glance at Harry. "Trying."
Moody let out a barking laugh. "Wizard's got a way about him when it comes to getting into trouble. But you always get yourself outta it, don't you, Potter?"
Remus shot Moody a look. "You broke," he stated succinctly, "my privacy charm."
"Make better ones."
Remus huffed.
"Now," Moody growled, as if particularly eager for a juicy piece of gossip, "what's going on here? Potter, Hogwarts still standing?"
"Why does everyone always ask that?" Harry protested.
"Because it's you," Kally supplied.
Despite himself the corner of Remus' mouth twitched, the wizard elbowing Moody aside just a bit. "Harry here," he stated, "was having symptoms of heart failure, after these two got into a fight."
Harry groaned. Loudly.
"Ah, Potter," Moody reproved, "a fight? Didn't I warn you that witches are far more manipulative than we will ever be? They'll always win. You never enter a battle you can't win. Strategize against the enemy first."
From the mirror Kally made a disgruntled sound, not unlike that of an angry cat.
The three males involved in the conversation steadfastly ignored it, though Remus briefly wondered if a Reach's ability could extend through a mirror.
"Besides," Moody continued conversationally, "I told you, hang onto this one. They don't make 'em like that often."
The exact eyes of Lilly Potter narrowed through the mirror in an outright glare. "They've never made them like her," Harry argued churlishly, before turning his annoyed look towards Remus. "And is there anyone who doesn't know about my personal life?"
Remus shrugged; Mad Eye snorted. "Order hasn't had something as interesting as the chosen one starting to date since Tonks started using guerilla war tactics to attack-snog this one." He hooked a gnarled thumb in his direction.
Remus looked affronted.
Alastor smirked like a raptor. "No use protesting, Remus. I saw you two desecrating that banister. You certainly weren't howling in protest then."
Remus let out a rabid growl.
Alastor ignored him, focusing on the teenagers. "Now, has the situation been diffused?" Moody questioned, making a grab for the pocket watch while Remus was distracted.
"I am not," Kalliandra stated dangerously, "a bomb."
Once again Harry and Moody ignored her. Harry merely inclined an eyebrow. "Diffused?" he asked, glancing at her. "Suppose you could say that."
Remus lost a hold of his pocket watch, but Moody was unable to walk off with it on account it remained attached by its chain to his belt.
"Atta boy, Potter," Mad Eye praised. "Future reference, presents always placate. Not flowers. Any wizard a hair-North of squib can conjure flowers. Girl like her? You want goblin-forged weapons of steel-"
At this point, thinking of the Muggle firearm Kalliandra had procured in Dublin and now kept in her dorm, Remus felt he really had to intervene. "Alastor, they're armed enough as it is."
Harry, however, had his brow furrowed as if taking mental notes.
Kally just looked increasingly irritated.
"Harry," Remus stated, trying to bring the topic of conversation back to what it should be, "your heart failure symptoms started when you thought you'd been dumped. How quickly?" Part of him could not believe he was standing there, whilst on guard duty, in the marsh just outside the Burrow, discussing James Potter's son's love life. Unfortunately thanks to blood magic it directly impacted Harry's life, so his own discomfort with the topic mattered little.
Somewhere James and Sirius were roaring with laughter.
Harry just shrugged. "Told you already, Remus. I thought Kaylens dumped me, so pretty damn quick."
She huffed a breath, strands of hair in her eyes blowing up. "I was just mad, Harry-"
"Well I know that now."
"Did they resolve just as quickly?" Remus questioned, trying to keep them on track.
Harry drug a hand over his head, looking somewhat stressed. "Took a bit longer for that."
"Just from that and it sent him into heart failure?" Moody mused thoughtfully, drumming his fingers along the pocket watch's chain. "Did a number on yourself, Potter. Damage must have been worse than we originally thought."
"We already," Remus stated with the patience of a saint, "established that."
Moody hrm-ed thoughtfully, only it sounded like a velociraptor. "But he's fine now."
Remus nodded.
Moody fixed a critical eye on Potter. "And you two made up."
Kalliandra and Harry both looked distinctly uncomfortable, Remus instantly narrowing his eyes.
"So," Mad Eye said aloud, "a war bonds at play."
It wasn't often that Remus was surprised – he was engaged to Tonks after all – but Moody's knowledge did startle him somewhat. "We haven't disseminated that information across the Order, Alastor. How'd you derive-"
"Bermilda and I had one," he stated, as if it were the norm. "You never met her, Harry. Witch died back in the sixties. Band of dark wizards took her, a real nasty lot. How I lost this." He gestured at his missing eye for emphasis.
Remus found himself staring at the grizzled, former Auror as if he'd never seen him before. War bonds formed due to feelings. Trying to imagine Mad Eye kissing someone, let alone dating and caring for someone romantically…
And she'd apparently died.
The werewolf winced. "I never knew that, Alastor. I'm sorry."
Alastor just grinned. "Don't be. Had her while I could. Witch laid one on me right outta Auror academy, mid-fight with some rogues robbing a wizarding dock. Never been able to have another witch in my system since." That said, he turned his one eye onto the pocket watch. "So you two've got a war bond. Unsurprising. So, which one did it?" His look of frightening curiosity was borderline terrifying.
Harry choked a little. "Er…that would be me."
Moody guffawed so loudly that others guarding the Burrow's perimeter actually turned to look, Hestia Jones in particular looking concerned. "Moody," he reprimanded, making a grab for the mirror, "you're scaring the children."
With that he snared it back, tugging it to observe Harry and Kalliandra. "Sorry about that, Harry, Kally."
Kally just shook her head. "Don't be. Moody, did you ever get hurt? Did it affect how quickly you healed?"
"Oh yeah," Moody observed. "Nothing lots of sex couldn't take care-"
Remus slammed his hand over Mad Eye's mouth so fast it was a marvel he didn't take off his head.
Harry just choked on repressed laughter, a fist shoved in his mouth. Kalliandra's eyes had flown wide.
Once Remus deemed it safe to remove his hand, Mad Eye let out a cackle. "Basic biology, Remus. No need to be so squeamish. We've all heard you and Nymphadora up in headquar-"
Once again a hand was slammed over his mouth, Remus turning a brilliant shade of red and scowling.
ECOTS
Kally's compact snapped shut, Harry leaning his head back against the bed frame, his eyes closing as the voices of Mooney and Moody vanished. "I may," he drawled, "be traumatized." The thought of Lupin, let alone Moody, having ever had sex was just…
Groaning he clenched his eyes shut to dispel the awful imagery.
Kaylens simply released a dryly amused breath. "What did you expect, Harry? They're living, breathing beings. Unless you thought libidos were limited to teenage males?"
A single green iris cracked open to eye her dubiously. "Moody," he stated, "might be more machine and random junkyard parts than actual being at this point."
Kally's lips twitched, but Harry didn't miss the slightly disgusted look she threw at the compact, casually kicking it away with her toes. It slid across the floor with a quiet skid, as if she wanted to get it as far away from them as possible.
Harry wished he could say he felt better after talking to them, but hearing them just had things swarming within his mind, a dull pounding starting behind his eyes. He was alive because of Kaylens. He wouldn't be otherwise. And Moody and Mooney were with the Weasleys: Ginny, Fred, George, Ron.
They'd been the closest thing to a family that he'd ever had. Now Bill and Mr. Weasley were dead, and Harry couldn't even be there for them. People were being buried, and he wasn't there. Hermione, Luna, Neville, Dean, Lupin, Tonks…they all could be there, yet he couldn't. Instead he was stuck at Hogwarts, unable to help them. He might as well have been an invalid.
It made him irrationally angry, his throat tight.
"You okay?"
Harry didn't know how to answer that. "That obvious?" he settled on, cracking his gaze to find Kally shrewdly studying him.
Sunlight fell across her features, caressing her cheekbones and setting her hair ablaze as if the gold had been freshly forged in a fire. "If you weren't upset," she reasoned, "you'd have at least found something funny about that."
For a second Harry tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, trying to find something funny about it.
Then he decided against it.
"Lupin," he stated bluntly, conjuring a cruel visual, "screwing Tonks. Bare ass-naked." He was the closest thing Kaylens had to a father figure here. If that didn't make her flinch, nothing would.
It did. Kally instantly clenched her eyes shut, shuddering. "Not," she murmured, "funny, Potter."
"Wasn't trying to be." Smugness infiltrated his tone, Harry snagging Kally's hand back, intertwining his fingers between hers.
Regrettably it didn't distract her, the non-witch shooting him a suffering look. "I can't help but notice," she said simply, "that you're delaying answering why you're not okay." Then her warm fingers tightened between his, Harry damn-near shivering at the good sensation.
No amount of aberrant, magical tingling could dispel the cold, hard truth though.
"They're dead, Kaylens." He met her gaze levelly. "Talking about it not's about to bring them back. So why bother?"
For a long moment the question hung heavily within the air, Harry not sure how to verbalize his upset that the brief conversation with Lupin had stirred in him. He didn't want to. He didn't try. It was childish, but he wished Lupin was there, with them, and not with the Weasleys. It was selfish and he knew it, so it was better to say nothing.
The Weasley's needed Lupin more right now and he understood that. He just didn't like it.
Harry dropped his free hand onto Kaylens' shin, her legs still draped over his in such a relaxed manner that the casual observer would have no clue she'd recently walked out on him. His heart skipped. The wizard clenched his fingers possessively between hers at the very thought.
Sitting there, on the dormitory floor with Kaylens, with all their friends and the closest people he had to family gone, Dumbledore's fate unknown, Harry felt inexplicably alone.
But he had her.
He swallowed thickly, heaving a hard breath. Kally had yet to say anything, the non-witch looking thoughtful. Up on the mattress he could hear Fawkes stirring in his sleep, the phoenix having made a nest out of Harry's pillow. The fledgling's sharp beak had wasted no time in tearing right through the fabric to pluck out the feathers, using them one-by-one to make a nest for himself.
As a white down feather fluttered to the floor, Kaylens finally spoke. "You're right," she quietly agreed, "talking won't bring them back. But it might make you feel better."
And then she waited, silently. There was no rush, no pressure. He knew if he sat there in stony, stoic silence she'd be fine with it.
That was precisely what made him talk.
"We're not at the funerals." His voice came out hollow, rough. "Even Kingsley's and Diggles'." They'd be held over the next two days, Dumbledore and Professor Gai's at Hogwarts thereafter. "We should be."
Kaylens' brow simply furrowed, the non-witch he was in love with looking pensive. "You're right, we should be there, but we can't, Harry." Squeezing his hand, she added, "I don't think they'll hold it against us."
"Yeah," he stated, vocalization devoid of emotion, "but Ron and Ginny might."
Understanding suddenly flickered within champagne colored eyes. "Harry…they know why you're not there. Why you can't be there. I'm sure Hermione told them." Wetting her lips, Harry's eyes drawn to the subtle, slight movement, she murmured, "They won't hold that against you."
He just inclined a dark brow, guilt eating at him. "Sure about that, Kaylens? Seems like I do an awfully good job at offending people I care about without meaning it." Even she'd stormed off, a dagger of anger upset still in him at that.
To his surprise Kally smiled hesitantly. "You still care about them, Potter. That's what matters. I'm sure Ron and Ginny know that."
"I still didn't show up."
Long lashes flickered over golden irises, Kaylens bowing her head so that her hair fell to veil her face. It looked like she was thinking, quietly. "Harry…they'll be thrilled you're even alive." She glanced up. "You died, literally, to save all of us, Ron included. Don't you think that earns you at least a couple of weeks off?"
He met her gaze humorlessly. "No."
"You don't have to take care of everyone else all the time."
"Yes I do."
Kaylens let out a hiss. "You're impossible."
"You're just figuring that out?" he inclined a challenging eyebrow.
Kally's eyes flickered with something unidentifiable, her lips parting as if wanting to say something else, before thinking better of it. Instead she just shook her head, glancing towards the window. An owl still sat there, its back to the room's occupants as it groomed itself. It looked suspiciously like Hedwig.
Hedwig would make sense. Most other owls still refused to come anywhere near Kaylens.
Waiting, well aware it was her turn to converse, Harry rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. Finally…
"You can't be everywhere at once Potter."
His thumb went still. "Come again?"
"You can't," she reiterated, eyes turning fiercely back to him, "be everywhere at once. You can't save everyone and stop every Death Eater. You can't magically stop every spell and find every horcrux single-handedly. Your friends understand that. You don't. The war's affecting everyone, not just you, so perhaps it's time you stop acting like you have to single handedly win it alone?" There was no malice behind her words, no force. She said them calmly, hope reflecting in her gaze, as if sheer force of will could get him to understand.
The thing was he already knew that. He couldn't do this alone. "I don't," he countered, bristling at her too-on-point comment, "but I'm still the one that has to take Voldemort out."
"And how, pray tell, can you do that if you've gone and gotten yourself killed trying to Floo to a funeral out of sheer stubbornness?"
Harry grunted in annoyance. "Fair enough." Spying the triumphant look in her eyes, he dryly added, "Could you try to gloat less?"
His girlfriend, one who hadn't apparently dumped him, smiled slightly. "Probably, but where'd be the fun in that?"
He snorted, unamused. "So much," he drawled, "for sympathy points."
"Oh, you have sympathy points," she stated simply, eyes flashing with poorly concealed enjoyment, "but you're fatalistic enough as it is without indulging you."
"Pity," he quipped, sending her a vague glare. "Could have enjoyed being indulged given we're both alive and still can."
And just like that any good mood in the room vanished, Kaylens' expression suddenly furrowing. It struck him too late that he'd just reminded her how close he'd come to leaving. "Yeah…" she breathed softly. "Yeah…you're alive."
It was almost as if she were reassuring herself. A shadow swept through her gaze, something so similar to what he'd seen within it when he'd still been trapped within the confines of the hospital wing, in bad physical shape. Something like loss. Something like fear.
Kaylens was scared; scared of losing him. His chest wrenched, Harry kicking himself. "Kaylens," he muttered, "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere."
The way she looked at him reminded him of a frightened animal seeing headlights for the first time. He opened his mouth to offer reassurance, to offer something, but she quickly looked away.
"What are we going to do about…about this?" she intercepted before he could speak, sounding as if she wanted to talk about anything else, anything but how he'd recently been dead. She made a quick gesture with her free hand between the two of them, Harry already knowing what she meant: The war bond.
He'd sodding do anything, talk about anything, so long as it prevented her from being upset. And still…
He didn't know how to respond to this. He'd been injured a lot worse than any of them had thought, only surviving thanks to Fawkes' tears and the blood bonds hanging thickly between them.
Kaylens was keeping him alive, literally, because she loved him.
Harry wasn't sure what the hell to feel about that, but his stomach wrenched. "Whatever we want," he finally said. "I don't want you feeling responsible for me though, Kaylens. You don't have to-"
"I don't," she cut in, anticipating his argument. "But if I can do anything that will help fix you faster, I'm going to."
"Pretty sure," he dryly countered, "that's the same as feeling responsible for."
Kally tilted her head, hair cascading across her shoulders in a golden wave. "You know," she intoned seriously, "one would think it'd have occurred to you by now that I actually like spending time with you."
Harry shifted slightly, the bed frame digging into his spine awkwardly. "Yeah well, have it on good authority I'm particularly dense with girls so…"
"That might," she revealed plainly, "be an understatement."
He made a deeply disgruntled sound, only for the infuriating non-witch he was snogging to move. She drug her legs off of his, scooting up alongside him. Then she pointedly picked up his arm, sliding under it, her legs curling up as she settled in to relax against his side.
Harry silently watched her do this as if watching a particularly cute squirrel gnaw a hole through his favorite shoe. "Just make yourself comfortable then," he permitted with unveiled sarcasm. She'd moved him around like a puppet.
"Happily," she murmured, eyes already fluttering closed.
For a second, a long second he just stared down at the top of her head, listening to the way her breathing grew relaxed. Her hand was still held loosely within the confines of his, an aberrant sensation sparking against his skin everywhere she touched.
Hell if he wasn't enjoying this, sarcasm and bad mood aside.
Harry dropped his head over the top of hers, his own gaze closing. "Reckon we could leverage this enhanced healing thing," he uttered, "into excuse for McGonagall to let you sleep with me up here permanently."
Kaylens made a small, amused sound. "We're doing that anyway."
"Yeah," he agreed, "but this way she won't feel the need to deduct all our house points and Hermione will stop twitching over us sneaking around."
His girlfriend laughed quietly against him, Harry breathing in the scent that perpetually clung to her hair. This…this wasn't something he wasn't sure he'd ever get used to. The idea that she was helping his heart muscle heal, or that he could help her heal if she were ever injured, and yet….
"You're sure about this?" he questioned brusquely, abruptly. She'd said no. Yet she was sodding here, with him. He was still half-expecting her to leave.
Kally's face turned slightly, peering up at him from beneath her mane of hair. She didn't need to ask what he meant; she already knew. "Yes." She squeezed onto his fingers, her free hand sliding over his abdomen, rising to his chest, wrinkling his shirt as she went.
If she were trying to kill him she was succeeding, his heart pounding insanely as her fingers fell directly above where his heart hid beneath his ribcage.
Then her fingertips flexed, as if silently reassuring herself that he was still there, with her, alive. Only the slight movement sent his heart out of control, Harry feeling like a sodding first year.
Hazel eyes flickered over his, Harry's own disputing that he actually still had her.
She noticed, Kaylens reassuring, "I'm positive, Harry."
He swallowed thickly, holding gold with green. "Okay," he agreed.
And with that…they talked. He shoved insecurity aside. The arguments, bickering were forgotten. Harry lost track of how long they sat there, together on the dormitory floor, just talking. They talked about theories of who Hazel and Paul might have been, if they could be linked to a horcrux – Harry thought so. They talked of the plague and how the Daily Prophet had persistently held no information within it. They talked of how the others were doing, hoping they were alright. They talked about how twisted it was that blood magic could form bonds between practical strangers, even if they were both glad for it.
Harry even talked about how he was sodding pissed that Lupin wasn't there, that he always seemed to be absent, doing things for the Order when he could have appreciated some fatherly advice, even though he knew it was unfair and irrational. They were at war and Lupin wasn't just his.
Kaylens had quietly listened, before simply offering to help zap 'that insufferable werewolf' the next time they saw him. She did play with electricity after all.
Harry had laughed.
The entire time he kept Kaylens tight to his side, her legs curled up half onto his, Fawkes having fallen asleep atop the mattress overhead.
That was how Snape found them hours later. The door to the dorm flew open, the Potions' Master standing there in his black robes, stains of dirt on them, an unreadable expression on his face.
Headmistress McGonagall was right behind him, her shrewd eyes flickering between the two of them with a slightly disapproving look.
Despite himself, Harry hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the magical bird, stating bluntly, "It's okay Professors, we have a chaperone."
Fawkes let out an agreeable trill.
Harry swore to things unholy that McGonagall actually snorted.
Snape was far less humored. "The entire Order is picking up the pieces of your last escapade, and here you are…" his lips curled as he looked between he and Kaylens, "cuddling."
Kally's head snapped up, but Harry tightened his hold on her, silently conveying his request for her not to move. "Last time I checked, Professor," he retorted flatly, "there's nothing wrong with human contact. In fact, heard it's downright therapeutic after experiencing a trauma."
McGonagall's mouth had opened in an expression torn halfway between reproach and laughter.
Snape just snarled, flicking out his robes so hard that sand shook to the floor. "Twenty points, a piece, for inappropriate displays of public affection, Potter."
The previous thoughts of behaving maturely with Snivellus fled, Harry's teeth grinding as he met his gaze levelly. "Last time I checked my dorm wasn't public."
"Violating rules by having a girl in your dorm is grounds for detention. Then again, given your father I shouldn't be surprised at your cavalier disregard for-"
"What's the matter, Sev?" Harry interrupted. "Upset no one's cuddling with you?" His jade gaze flicked towards McGonagall. "I'm sure our Headmistress would if you asked her nicely."
A vein in Severus Snape's forehead about exploded, McGonagall finally finding her voice. "That will be quite enough, Mr. Potter," she said primly, the amused twinkle in her gaze betraying her.
Despite himself, despite the dire situation the Order was in, despite all the deaths, Harry shot Minerva McGonagall a wink.
The stately witch looked a bit startled. Kaylens just buried her face in his shoulder, groaning.
Harry patted her head consolingly, having already turned his attention back to Snape. "Did you find anything?" he asked quickly, not bothering to mask the hopeful eagerness. Dumbledore couldn't be dead. He couldn't. There'd been too many other deaths, and Dumbledore…
Well he couldn't be one of them. Dobby wouldn't be wrong about that.
Before Snape could even answer, Harry realized something: Dobby wasn't there.
"Where's Dobby?" he demanded, voice suddenly harder, worried. Kally drug her face off his shoulder, her own brow furrowing with concern. Unconsciously he drug his hand through her hair, more to comfort himself than her.
The fact that she was worried about Dobby though…it made him like her more.
From somewhere deep within Snape's throat came a deadly rumble. "If I had my way that bothersome elf would be at the bottom of the-"
McGonagall shot Snape a disapproving, thin-lipped look. "Dobby decided to hang back to continue the search, Harry," she related in a clipped tone. "As I understand it, his instructions were to do so once care of Fawkes had been transferred…to you." From behind her spectacles green eyes peered down, studiously surveying him.
Then her gaze turned towards his bed, where Fawkes nested, still looking ill, but happier.
"I see Albus still has secrets he chose not to share," she observed, Harry unable to tell if she sounded relieved or irritated.
Regardless, he nodded. "Appears so, Professor." Dobby was okay. He was okay, and from the way McGonagall was talking, Dumbledore was too.
He hadn't been in the waiting room.
He'd only told Luna and Kaylens about it.
Fingertips gently brushed against his, Harry damn-near shuddering at the sensation now tingling across his skin. Kaylens quietly ran her fingertips against his callused, scarred palm, Harry content to let her.
Kally's voice was nearly a whisper. "So Dumbledore still might be…" The non-witch he was in love with didn't finish her statement, having spoken for the first time since the professors had come in.
Snape turned his sneer away from him, leveling an unreadable look onto her. "As much as it pains me to admit it," he drawled, "it appears your…" pausing, looking as if he might choke on the word, "boyfriend may have been correct."
Snape might be an insufferable asshole, but he toned it down a notch where Kaylens was concerned. Hell, Harry was fairly certain that was the only reason he had not been replaced with a smoldering hole in the ground on one of the multitude of occasions that the professor had caught them snogging.
It struck Harry that Snape – Snape – had just admitted he'd been right about something. And then, as if in slow motion, the professor reached into the folds of his robes, unearthing something.
Between his fingers was a vibrant red feather; a phoenix feather.
Harry's chest lurched.
"We searched the island and surrounding waters," he stated, Harry only now realizing what the dirt on Snape's robes was from: the sand dunes. "There was no sign of him, still no body, but I did find this."
Kally sucked in a breath alongside him, Harry's jaw tensing as he stared at it. "Fawkes…"
From the bed Fawkes lifted his bald head, his black eyes now wide open as he looked at the feather, letting out a meek trill. Harry glanced abruptly to the phoenix – his phoenix – and back to the feather.
Fawkes was looking at it as if it were important.
"So that means Dumbledore's-"
McGonagall shot him a warning look. "Between us, Mr. Potter, we should not risk saying it aloud in front of anyone outside of this room."
"And Dobby," Kally said. All three of them looked at her, the Reach shrugging. "Dobby already knows as well."
Harry's chest swelled, feeling something he hadn't felt since setting foot on that cursed island: hope. "Professor," he quickly said, turning to Snape, the respectful term lost on him, "Fawkes wasn't on the island."
Snape leered down his long nose, as if observing an imbecile. "I'm aware, Potter."
"So then what are you doing here?" he demanded urgently. "You should be looking for him. If Fawkes is in this bad of shape Dumbledore and the other Fawkes might be too."
"Because Harry," McGonagall stated, "he wasn't there. We were hoping this one," she sent a somewhat concerned frown towards the ill-looking fledgling on his bed, "could perhaps provide some insight as to where Albus is now." She looked back down at he and Kaylens, adding, "Dobby was kind enough to fill us in on the particulars, and it is my understanding that the phoenixes may perhaps, still be linked."
Harry instantly shook his head, squeezing Kaylens' hand as he got ready to move. "But Fawkes is sick. He's-"
Snape scoffed. "Phoenixes do not get sick, Potter. They merely die and encounter problems regenerating, as must be the case with this…" he eyed Fawkes with unveiled distaste, "unseemly creature."
A defensive growl rose within Harry's throat, Kally tightening her fingers onto his shirt, tugging it in silent warning as Snape coldly pressed, "Though in its current state this phoenix is of no use in our search for Albus, Minerva. I warned you anything linked to Potter would be less than ideal. I suggest we look elsewhere."
Instantly Harry did try to get up, his intent to find some way to hex the bastard, only for Kaylens to quite literally toss her legs back over his in a blatant block. "Harry," she hissed. It didn't matter though. Fawkes had lifted his head from the nest, an angry, low, almost musical sound coming from the bird.
Apparently that was how a phoenix growled.
It was almost haunting.
The sparks, however, were far more real.
McGonagall let out a shout, instantly throwing a fire extinguishing spell at the bed hangings that had just ignited. Snape, however, looked almost thoughtful, as if he hadn't just pissed off an ancient, magical bird.
"There is perhaps a potion that might help that indecorous thing after all," he abruptly stated, dark gaze instantly on Kalliandra. "You'll begin work on it post-haste, Ms. Kaylens, before it loses its signs of life. I do trust you are capable of not messing it up due to unnecessary," eyes moving to Harry, "distractions?"
Kally was already nodding, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Yes. I can do that."
Harry looked at her curiously, mouthing, What potion? at her.
She shrugged artlessly, mouthing, Don't know. Clearly it was something Snape was privy to, but not her.
If Snape wasn't so useful he'd have probably given in to the temptation to hex him long ago. As it was, he gritted his teeth and listened, because McGonagall was talking, and if there was anything Fawkes could do to help find Dumbledore, or if there was anything Snape could do to help Fawkes…
Fawkes had just made fire though. That was something. It was improvement.
Snape still bore that strange, unreadable expression.
"So there's nothing this version of Fawkes can do to help us locate Albus at present," McGonagall stated, sounding sincerely disappointed. "Severus, are you certain?"
Snape just narrowed his eyes. "Short of the effort actually killing the bird for real? Yes. However, if you are a fan of wine-braised duck legs I have a recipe, and am sure a phoenix would serve as excellent substitute."
All Harry could do was blink for a moment, while McGonagall scolded, "Severus Snape!" It took Harry a second, a long second to comprehend what he'd just heard, before Kally sputtered, "You just made a joke."
Even Fawkes let out a sound eerily reminiscent of a snort.
The look Snape levelled on them could have killed. "The culinary arts, like potions, require patience and skill. I joke about neither."
Snape had just made a joke.
He'd found a phoenix feather on the island.
Harry closed his eyes for a second. "So what's our next move?" He looked up, adding, "For finding Dumbledore."
Minerva McGonagall eyed him as if he'd gone insane. "We tell no one he's alive, for starts, Mr. Potter. We try to find him, and in the meantime we carry on without him."
Harry had suspected, and yet….hearing that someone else, let alone Snape and McGonagall, agreed with him….
He swallowed, nodding agreement. Then Harry drug his legs up, as if half-thinking about moving. Kally had already moved as well, no longer pinning him from attacking Snape with her legs, but her hand remained firmly clutched within his, both thinking hard. Dumbledore might be alive, but for the moment he was gone.
Snape, however, was still here.
The wizard that the Marauders had once relentlessly tormented wasn't exactly known for trusting others. Yet Harry still remembered last year, when he'd gone to him for help, thinking Sirius was in danger, and gotten nothing out of him.
He hadn't known the bastard would alert the Order. He'd had no idea because the bastard had refused to say anything. Sirius had died.
If Snape had just said something Harry never would have gone to the Department of Mysteries.
Had Harry trusted Snape he'd never have gone either.
The old grudges that ran deep, too deep, needed to end before they both got someone else killed. This time though…this time Snape had listened. He'd gone to look for the Headmaster. Something had clearly changed.
Throat tight, Harry grimaced, fighting back his irritation at the slights to Fawkes. "Professor," he questioned, "when Dobby asked for your help, what made you believe him?" Somehow the answer was important. It didn't matter that Snape believed him now. What mattered was why he'd gone in search to begin with.
Snape merely sent him a withering look. "That elf is unyieldingly loyal to the Headmaster, Potter, despite no ownership to compel him." His gaze narrowed, adding, "Something he apparently is to you as well. Thus, he was convincing."
With that he sent a glowering look towards Kalliandra. "I'll trust you can remember where the Potions' labs are, even if you do seem to have difficulty finding your own dorm?"
Something had changed, Harry not sure what, but he snorted dryly at the subtle reprimand. Kaylens just scowled, but it was McGonagall who answered for them both.
"Actually Severus," she stated, sending them both a shushing look, "it was my recommendation that the Gryffindor students temporarily cohabitate. I did not want them separated in the event of another dementor attack. The third years have been staying here as well."
Harry raised a surprised eyebrow in her direction. McGonagall acted as if she did not see him.
Snape, however, did not. "I suppose," he stated, sounding somewhat put out, "this means I cannot deduct any points for this."
"I'm afraid not," McGonagall said sympathetically, and not at all convincingly. "But given long enough, I'm sure Mr. Potter will do something worthy of house point deductions. Chin up, Severus."
At that Kally swiftly turned, stifling a laugh against his arm. Harry just eyed them all as if they'd gone insane.
Snape just smirked. "Well…Gryffindor House is already in the negative, Minerva. I suppose there is nothing left to deduct." Turning his sneer onto him, he added, "You probably have him to thank for that."
Now it was McGonagall's turn to scowl, Snape nodding towards Fawkes. "Take care of that bird, Potter. It would not do to have our only means of finding Albus flame out. Ms. Kaylens, I'll see you in the lab before the hand strikes half past. Now get off the floor, Potter. You weren't that sick."
With that he turned in a whirl of robes, disappearing out the doorway while Harry was still wondering what Snape considered sick if 'recently dead' didn't qualify.
The Transfiguration Professor simply sent an irritated look after him. "The two of you," she stated, "better ensure those points are re-earned. I do not care if there is not an official House race occurring, we will not lose to him." For the thousandth time since starting Hogwarts, Harry wondered if McGonagall and Snape were either enemies, or friends with a fierce rivalry.
The acting Headmistress held her wand between both hands, tapping her fingers along its length. "And by the way Mr. Potter, Ms. Kaylens, I'm aware that the other students are temporarily…absent, so I've asked that the house elves keep an eye on the dorms for purposes of ensuring student safety." She cast a hawkish look towards them, humor and shrewdness mixed within it. "I trust that warning will suffice that no funny business occurs while the two of you and our three third years are left to occupy one room without supervision?"
Harry gulped.
The terrifying woman who had been torturing them for months in combat smiled. "Excellent." She started to leave, only to pause in the doorway, sending one last look towards them. "Oh and I would caution care around the windows here. The latches have been so finicky as of late." She sent them a pointed look, flatly telling, "It'd require a lot of explaining if one of our students went toppling out. The paperwork alone…"
Then, with a terrifying smile, she swept out of the dorm after Snape, Harry and Kalliandra left to stare after her in blank horror.
"Was it my imagination," Kally questioned slowly, "or did she just wink?"
"I'm pretty sure," he stated just as slowly, wondering how many eyes around the castle McGonagall actually had, "she just surpassed Voldemort on my list of people I'm most terrified of."
"Do you think she knows we-"
Harry groaned, cutting her off and rubbing his face with the heels of his palms. He didn't want to think about why McGonagall just implied that, let alone how she could have known. The idea of anyone seeing he and Kally doing anything was enough to give him nightmares.
Dragging in a long, steadying breath, he attempted to ease the pounding in his head. "Remind me," he grated, "to have better restraint around you in skirts."
Kaylens made a non-committal, slightly upset sound, her gaze still fixed on the now vacant doorway.
Oh great, his girlfriend had gone catatonic. With a sigh he stopped trying to gouge his own eyes out, slowly clambering to his feet. Then he grabbed her arm, tugging her with him.
Kally's eyes snapped towards his, Harry's hands flexing on her upper arms. She stared at him, questioning, "So did that just-"
"Clearly," he interjected, not letting her go down that terrifying path, "you're hallucinating."
Kally gnawed her lip nervously, shooting him a look. "Potter, she winked."
"Did she?" Harry raised an eyebrow, running his hands up and down her arms. "Seriously, McGonagall with a sense of humor? Surely not." He did his best to sound scandalized.
Kally wet her lips, a wane smile touching them.
It was all he could do to yank his eyes away from them. It amazed him, how she wouldn't bat an eye at Snape, certifiably the most frightening Professor at Hogwarts, yet a terrifying jest from McGonagall of all people made her nervous.
She was wetting her lips again.
"Kally…" he muttered, but the non-witch had already stepped closer, her fingers wrapping in the front of his shirt, a plea on her lips.
"Come to the potions labs with me, Harry. Please?"
Within his chest his heart thundered, her proximity doing things to him. "Shocked it was even a question," he uttered, gaze sweeping hers.
Champagne colored irises met his own, her breaths coming out more calmly. "Okay. I-" Pausing, she looked away. "I didn't want to leave you alone…"
"Hey," he assured, snagging her chin, forcing her face back around to look at him. "I'll bring the books Dobby found. We still haven't finished them. I'll just research down there." His thumb traced her jawline, studying her intently.
Kally was studying him right back, looking worried. "Harry, are you sure you're okay? Before you-"
"Before I thought you were walking out on me, Kaylens," he told firmly. "Permanently." The words came out harder than he meant, given he was trying to comfort her. "I'm fine now."
She shook her head, errant strands of hair falling in front of her eyes. "Magic shouldn't be capable of doing that, Harry. It's not-"
"Natural? No kidding." He offered a strained grimace, adding, "But hey, it's apparently why I'm alive. So no complaints here." From the mattress came a disgruntled screech, Harry and Kally's heads both jerking to find Fawkes still curled into a small ball, but his black eyes were cracked, an expression that was almost angry directed his way.
Harry almost laughed. "You too buddy," he acknowledged. "You've got a lot to do with it too."
Fawkes sent him a smoldering look, as if not quite decided on whether he wanted to let him off the hook or not. Finally the bird closed his eyes, ruffling the few, patchy feathers he had, as if to say 'alright, but I'm still annoyed.'
Kally was studying the phoenix as if it were the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. "Fawkes?"
The bird deigned to crack one eye, Harry not aware birds could even do that until that moment.
"Thank you."
The phoenix gave a weak, stiff bob of its head, like a nod, the single bright golden frill it had on its head bouncing violently in acknowledgement. Then the bird went back to attempting to sleep.
Kally had already turned back to him, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. "Harry…how do you think Fawkes saved Dumbledore?" There had been a feather on scene and Dumbledore's body had never been recovered. That'd given them all hope.
Harry met her gaze, seriously telling, "I don't know. But he had to of." Breathing a long breath, he added, "We can research. Figure it out. Apparently that's all I'll be good for, for awhile anyway."
Kaylens' glorious eyes narrowed onto him, her hands sliding up from his shoulders and into his hair. "You're an idiot, Potter."
"Your idiot."
She shrugged artlessly, the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. "Fair enough."
There wasn't a need for further words. Harry simply slid his hand into her hair, gaze resting upon that of his girlfriend's. They stood like that, for a long while, just looking at one another, before Kaylens sealed the space, her mouth pressing carefully against his, the kiss once again innocent.
It promised him she wasn't leaving. It promised that she loved him.
Threading his fingers through her hair, his face tilting against hers, Harry silently promised all the same things right back.
Within his chest his heart thundered, but it thundered right.
They had no way of knowing that kilometers away, in another country, that the decaying, reanimated body of a Muggle was staggering through the marsh just outside the Weasley's home. The plague victim no longer remembered that they were from Ottery St. Catchpole, or that they abhorred violence.
All it knew was that it was hungry.
The plague had spread.
As Kally and Harry sat in the potion's lab, Kalliandra working on a potion for Fawkes and brewing additional batches of antidote simultaneously, Harry leafing with annoyance through old record books, they had no way of knowing how very dire the situation was.
Outside of Hogwarts it was getting worse.
If only they had known how much worse.
