"Life has many ways of testing a person's will, either by having nothing happen at all, or by having everything happen all at once."

~ Paulo Coehlo


Chapter 58 ~ The Small Things


ECOTS


Tonks stepped outside the burrow and promptly raked a hand through her shoulder-length brown hair. Somehow having her hair multiple colors for Arthur's funeral didn't seem right, so now it was its natural mousey brown that she rather loathed.

Really, there was nothing creative about mousey brown. At least her genetics could have conspired to give her dark brown, or light brown, or streaky brown, but mousey brown? Ugh. It was enough to have her thanking her mother – despite the horrible name-giving lapse – for passing on a metamorphamgus gene. Granted her mother hadn't been a metamorphmagus, but one of those eggs of hers had obviously had some type of mutation in it, and she'd given her that one, so she supposed she couldn't leave her mother completely out of thanking her lucky stars she could change her horrible, mousey brown hair color at will.

Tonks was fairly certain her newest obsession with hating her own hair was probably an attempt to distract herself from where they were at, but she certainly wasn't going to admit that aloud.

Then again, admitting it in her head was probably just as bad, because she could hear herself think, after all.

She wrinkled her nose in annoyance.

The door behind her squeaked, Tonks glancing back to see Dean Thomas coming out, looking exhausted. "Wotcher snogger." She couldn't help but give him a slightly evil grin.

The Gryffindor wizard stopped, both his hands freezing where they'd been tiredly rubbing his temples, and eyed her with totally unmasked annoyance.

Tonks gave him a too-wide grin, spinning her wand in hand. She'd never been particularly good at being sad, so she was giving 'acting like a lunatic' a run for its galleon. It had to be better than being so utterly depressed. "What?" she said with the innocence of an Amsterdam street walker. "Thought you were supposed to be up there tending to Ginny?" Then she proceeded to waggle her eyebrows at him, letting out a suggestive whistle.

Dean Thomas, her-personal-wizard-savior extraordinaire, let out a fatigued, "Ugh."

The look she cast him could have incited a riot. "Now come now, Thomas. I've felt those smackers of yours." Now technically it had been mouth-to-mouth, but it'd been enough for her to feel how big and smushable they were, so she figured that qualified her as an expert witness. She smacked her lips together for pointed emphasis. "Lay 'em on, Gin-Gin, Dean-o. It'll cheer her right up."

Now it might be her imagination, but she was fairly certain that Remus must have shared some tips with the younger wizard on how to contort one's face into that particular brand of 'bewildered-meets-appalled.' "Tonks," he groaned, "isn't it a little early for this?" He sank down onto the porch's front stoop, dropping his head into his hands.

"Nah, never too early for a little bit of luuuurve talk."

Dean rubbed at his temples as if feeling a headache coming on. "Say that any louder," he bemoaned, "and Ginny will be down here and my head will be over there." He stopped his self-administered-headache-ministrations long enough to point towards a particularly muddy-looking puddle off to the left. "Seriously Tonks, witch has got radar."

Tonks flopped down alongside him, patting his back consolingly. "What would you like," she said very seriously, "your tombstone to read?"

Dean groaned so loudly that it scared off several birds.

Tonks eyed them worriedly, the younger wizard grunting, "Somehow I don't think it's every girl's dream to have moves put on them right after their dad's died."

Still rubbing his back consolingly she cast a look over her shoulder, back through the door's window. "That bad in there huh?"

"You have no idea," Dean deadpanned.

"Sure I do. Just deposited Molly with Charlie for a reason after all."

At that Dean actually lifted his head up and swiveled it towards her. The two stared at one another for a moment, Tonks joviality evaporating like it'd been sucked out by a dementor's kiss.

"They weren't there," Dean said hollowly. "We were, and we didn't bring her dad back. What in the hell am I even supposed to say to Ginny given that?" He paused, frowning. For a moment it looked as if something else were bothering him, but the wizard just scowled. "I hate this."

"Yeah well, you're not alone, kid," she commiserated, giving his back one last tap before dropping her hand back into her lap. Looking out towards the marsh she let out a heavy sigh. She might be an Auror, but she didn't have a lot of experience with death. Thus far, she'd found not thinking about it seemed to be an excellent coping mechanism. It kept her functional enough to deal with the small details that needed tending to. Like not thinking about how Tres and Dumbledore and Diggles had died.

And Fleur…they had no idea where Fleur was; not one clue. A smidgeon of anger threatened to bubble up, but she squashed it back down like a bug.

She found herself scanning the marsh looking for Remus. Following her gaze Dean nodded towards it. "Who's on watch?"

"Remus, Mad Eye, Hestia and Neville," she relayed automatically, drumming her fingers tiredly on her kneecap. "Remus keeps taking shifts. I'm pretty sure that whole 'wolf' thing means he never sleeps. Have to wrestle him into bed with underhanded tactics just to get him to hold still." Her nervous finger-drumming became more pronounced, the pretty diamond ring on her finger glinting in the sunlight.

Dean cast a glance at it. "Speaking of, when's the big day?"

Tonks perked up slightly. "August 3rd," she said, expression bright for only a second. It fell just as quickly. "Though given the state of things we may want to move it up..."

Now it was Dean's turn to pat her on the back consolingly.

That was when it happened.

Dean's hand froze on her back. "Tonks…." The wizard slowly got to his feet, staring, squinting as if unsure about whether or not his eyes were playing tricks.

They weren't. Tonks' breath had already caught in her throat.

"I see it," she said quickly, also standing, wand out. Far out in the marsh there were several tiny dots. They looked like nothing more than tiny thumbtacks from this distance, but they were moving. "Death Eaters…" her voice was a low, upset growl. They'd known this was a possibility, yet how dare those Muggle-hating bastards interrupt the Weasleys on today of all days. Her hair rapidly began to turn red-

"I don't think those are Death Eaters," Dean said flatly.

Tonks' head whipped around to look at him, finding the younger wizard staring into the distance with a look of such intensity it didn't seem to belong to him.

A second passed.

Then another.

Tonks took a step down onto a creaky stair-

The door opened behind them, Ginny Weasley walking out. "Dean, if you ever sleeping hex me again I'll-"

Tonks made a shushing gesture at her that sent the girl silent, her gaze following theirs.

Despite the fact that the girl had clearly just woken up, Ginny's wand was out and in hand, her breath audibly catching. "Dean?" This time her voice was less angry, far more quiet, downright hesitant.

The wizard reached out blindly and gave her arm a squeeze. "Get inside, tell your family."

Her face went ashen. "Oh my God, are those…"

"Yeah."

Still the three stood there, together, in rapt silence.

Remus' shout cut through the Weasley's yard like a gunshot.

A lot happened in the next few seconds.

Ginny spun, vibrant red hair flying as she flew back into the house, shouting for her brothers and mother to seal the windows. Shouts of zombies and plague slammed into Tonks' eardrums like torturous bullets.

Dean swore, vaulting the three stairs leading down from the porch to the ground, barreling at full tilt towards the tall reeds and grasses.

Mad Eye bellowed something about it not being a person.

Remus bellowed back something akin to no shit.

Tonks flew after Dean, sprinting as hard as she could, digging her heels into the ground. Dean hit the tall grasses first and disappeared.

Tonks hit them seconds later, a sloshing splat heard as her shoes kicked up the wetland's centimeter's deep water, soaking her pants as the reeds and grasses bent and broke around her. They rustled angrily as she darted through them, the things so tall in spots that they blocked her view. She cursed having inherited the short genes in the family.

Breathing hard she also cursed Dean Thomas and the fast genes that he'd apparently inherited. She briefly wondered if she could con him into becoming an Auror after all this was over. He was certainly fast enough. She could sit back and let him chase the criminals down, while she sipped on an ice cold lemonade.

"I found someone!" Remus shouted.

Abruptly she lost sight of Dean.

"Designandume!" she snapped, flicking her wand at the surrounding reeds. Instantly several pointed just off to her right, Tonks rerouting and barreling that way. Due North was where Remus' head and shout had been.

She skidded out into an opening of ankle deep water right as Dean's wand nearly took off her fiance's head.

"EXPULSO!"

The spell flew directly past her werewolf, slinging into the person he'd been cautiously approaching with both hands raised, talking placatingly to, asking if they needed help.

Dean's curse slammed into it, its neck snapping with such force that the crack would haunt her nightmares for weeks. For a second the thing stood there, on two legs, the head no longer attached and just hanging there by a sinewy thread of boodied muscle. Thing was it wasn't bleeding. There was no spurting. There was only a coagulated oozing on its lapel.

Then the thing collapsed to its knees, flopping face first into the water. Murky liquid splashed up, sending droplets spraying in every direction, Dean cursing and backpedaling out of the splash zone.

"Did it get on you!?"

Tonks stood there, breathing in shock as Dean shouted at Remus. Remus just stared at the downed body as if just realizing that this person had not been alive to begin with.

"LUPIN!" he tried again. "Did anything from it get on you?"

This time Remus took an abrupt step back from the body, his wand flicking and setting it on fire. "Yeah," he relayed roughly. He spun and glanced at Dean, his expression growing somewhat sober as he caught sight of her, as if just realizing she was there.

Tonks stared. The front of Remus' robes and face were covered in water; water, which surely had traces of decaying flesh, tissue, blood, and plague within it.

"Damn't Remus!" she swore at him, spinning and leveling her wand in every other direction, looking for something to hex. "Dean, we have to get him back to Hogwarts. The antidote-"

"I know where it is!" he snapped. "Remus, how many more-"

"A few," he grated hollowly, instantly ordering, "Go, get back to Molly. Tell her to get the fidelius charm in place." Tonks stared at him, heart in her throat, Remus ordering, "Do it now, Tonks!"

Tonks could have sworn at him, Dean once again beating her to it.

Then Tonks was barreling back through the reeds, grasses cracking around her as she rushed to Molly, hoping like hell the grieving widow had figured out a secret keeper that was actually present.


ECOTS


Harry slammed the book from the 1940s shut with such force that had Hermione been there, she'd have had him scrubbing toilets for a week for 'excessive use of force with fragile literature.' "Kaylens, I've got it."

His girlfriend didn't so much as glance up, Kally's concentration remaining firmly on the five cauldrons boiling throughout the dungeons. Her hair was messily pinned up with another long bone from some poor, misbegotten creature that had probably taken a wrong turn and wound up in one of Snape's rat traps.

Harry frowned, seriously wondering how she cleaned the things without a scourgify spell, before rapidly deciding he was better off not knowing. The girl was tenacious.

He just as rapidly resolved to get her hair clips or…or something for her birthday, whenever that actually was. She'd remained remarkably silent on the matter, merely smirking whenever he inquired, his lack of knowledge of the date a private, running joke. Hell, he was at the point of outright trickery trying to find out, but Lupin, Hermione, and Thomas had all adamantly remained silent on the matter.

Apparently Kaylens could be quite convincing when threatening people.

A few stray, errant strands of gold hung haphazardly into her eyes, a sheen of sweat on her furrowing brow as she sprinkled some type of powder into the nearest pot, mumbling quietly to herself. A strand of hair tickled her nose, the non-witch scrunching it up in annoyance.

Harry leaned back against the wall, a slight smile twitching his lips. Kaylens was pure chaos.

Rolled out scrolls flapped in an unseen breeze, potions books opened on almost every available surface, including the floor. A pot of ink lay tipped over, slowly dripping from the workbench to splatter against the stone, a bright blue quill still hanging half in it. Some of that same ink stained Kally's left leg, the Reach unnoticing. Harry watched Kaylens eyes flickering swiftly between all the moving parts, clearly performing calculations in her head, somehow keeping track of all of it.

Snape had her working on something for Fawkes, the phoenix having come to the dungeon's potion's lab with them, whilst also working on several more batches of plague antidote. Harry was fairly certain if he'd tried the same, he'd have already lost limbs.

They'd been down there for several hours already, Harry combing through the books Dobby had gotten them without much success whilst she brewed, Fawkes slumbering alongside him in a makeshift nest. Come to think of it, part of that nest was another potion's book.

Every so often the phoenix would crack an eye, peering at what Harry was reading, making odd trilling sounds as if disagreeing with what track he was on, before nibbling at his own nest's bindings.

He was seriously beginning to wonder if Fawkes could actually read.

With that many cauldrons going the dungeons had gotten hot to the point of it being unpleasant. Had Harry's focus not been fixed on tracking down the acrid chunks of the most dark wizard to have ever lived's soul he'd have been far more interested in how the heat was making Kaylens' shirt damply cling to her in all the right places.

Hell, his focus was on other matters and he still found himself staring.

Kally paused what she was doing, glancing at him and frowning. "Got what?"

The way she said it made it clear she was repeating herself. He hadn't even noticed.

Fawkes gave a sniff of disdain, as if to say 'stupid human' in his direction.

Harry ignored the bird and abruptly shook himself, dispelling images of what he'd like to do Kally as soon as they were out of here. Their fight, the fact that she was quite literally keeping him alive right now, the fact that she'd been the one to apologize for once, the fact that she was rapidly becoming impressive, the fact that she still wanted him to ask all rolled around in his head for a moment.

Kally tilted her head curiously, an amused smile touching her familiar lips. "Harry," she again repeated, flipping her long bangs out of her eyes. "Focus."

It took him a second to remember what he'd been excited about to begin with.

"Hazel and Paul," he blurted, grasping at it. "They were at school with Voldemort in the 1940s."

Kaylens inclined a single eyebrow, one of the cauldrons giving a squelching bubble. "And?"

"Mad Eye was in school here in the 1940s."

The various burning fires sizzled, a clock ticking on the wall as he stared at her, feeling somewhat triumphant. He waited, waiting for her to come to the same conclusion he had.

Her lips parted, realization flickering in her eyes. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," he agreed, "tell me about it." How in the hell hadn't they thought of this before?

Instantly she was rooting around in her pocket, that compact of hers snared and thrown his way. Harry caught it deftly, offering, "Thanks," before he'd flipped it open, looking into the mirror with the crack running the length of it. Then he clearly stated, "Mooney."

It took a few seconds, but the face of his father's friend appeared, looking resigned. "Yes Harry?"

Behind Lupin he could still see the reeds and tall grasses of the marsh surrounding the Weasley's house. "Mooney, is Moody still with you?"

Lupin's eyes instantly narrowed suspiciously. "Yes…"

"I need to talk to him."

The old Marauder appeared thoughtful, sun beating down in his eyes. "I feel like some topics need to be off limits…"

Harry groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. "Come on, Mooney."

"I just think your father wouldn't appro-no, Lily wouldn't approve of some of his advice."

Again, Harry groaned. "I solemnly swear that I was not shagging Kaylens up there." Something clanked off to the side, as if suddenly dropped. Had Harry not been staring Remus down, he might have afforded Kaylens a glance to ensure her safety. "We're in the potion's lab right now and doing researching on the horcruxes. I need to know if Moody knew two people mentioned in the diary, when he was in school."

Lupin frowned, then he glanced off somewhere to the right of the mirror. "Oh for Merlin's sake," he scowled, the Marauder's face temporarily disappearing as he started bellowing, "Moody it's a bird. Not a bloody spy for Voldemort!"

"That's what it wants us to think!"

"Stop haranguing that poor creature. Harry needs to speak with you."

There was the distinct sound of something sloshing through water, the mirror snagged a second later. "Potter," Moody said, his grizzled face and eye patch emerging. "What's this about? Are his forces there or did you need an ole tip or two on how to-"

"He doesn't need tips!" Kaylens voiced from the workbench, sounding clearly annoyed as something slimy attempted to escape her grasp.

Moody grinned, and it was terrifying. "Atta boy, Potter. Now what you've gotta do next is-"

Harry made a dying sound. "Neither," he cut him off, hoping to spare himself additional trauma as he sent Kaylens a withering look. Kally just shot him an innocent smile. "Neither of those things is happening. I need to know if you knew a Hazel or a Paul while you were in school."

Mad Eye frowned. "There were a few Pauls and two Hazels. Afraid yer gonna have to narrow it down."

"They would have been in Riddle's year, or close to it. Possibly friendly. They weren't in Slytherin."

The look Moody sent him was the closest he'd ever seen the wizard come to calling someone stupid. "Riddle didn't have friends, Potter. He had lackeys, and we all know how they turned out."

"Hold on." Harry fumbled for the one photograph of Hazel they'd found, flipping the mirror so Moody could see. "Her. Haven't found one of Paul yet." He then waited, holding things at an awkward angle for so long that his arms began to burn. The only sound in the room was that of Kaylens' cauldrons bubbling and her intermittent swearing as components attacked. "Er, Moody?"

"Potter, you know she looks like-"

"Yeah," he grunted, flipping the mirror around with an unamused glance in Kally's direction, "believe me, I know."

"We're not," Kally threw over, brushing her hands on her jeans, "related."

As Harry opened his mouth to strongly disagree, Moody beat him to it. "Obviously."

Both Kally and Harry glanced towards the mirror, the former raising a delicate eyebrow in his direction. "What do you mean obviously? Moody they look alike." Harry glanced at the picture again, looking between it and Kaylens, that pit returning to his stomach.

"Well unless that girl somehow managed to birth your girlfriend's mother in absolute secret before she was seventeen it's impossible, Potter." The way Moody was frowning was concerning. He was no longer even looking at him through the mirror. Instead he appeared to be squinting at something outside his field of view.

The mirror dropped, Harry now only able to see Mad Eye's neck. A viciously sharp throwing star hung from it around a break-away chain.

"Moody, why is that impossible?" Harry asked, attempting to get the wizard to focus.

"Because," Moody said, not bothering to lift up the mirror, "her mutilated corpse was found outside of Hogsmeade when I was just a third year. Really screwed up our Hogsmeade privileges. Though…" the ex-Auror was grumbling something beneath his breath, "that would explain a lot."

"A lot about what?" Harry demanded.

Now the mirror had fallen, as if Moody had it by his side. It was getting jostled violently, tall, golden grass sweeping past and smacking the surface as if Mad Eye were running. "That's not a person, Remus!"

Mooney's voice cut through the glass. "No shit!"

Then the distinct sound of a spell being fired was heard, Harry feeling suddenly ill. "Moody?" There was no response. The mirror just continued to be jostled about, a thunderous bellow emanating through the two-way connection.

He stared at the mirror as if bearing slow witness to a horror show, knowing something was happening but unable to tell what.

"Harry, what's-"

He shook his head so hard vertebrate actually cracked. "I don't know." His gaze shot up, finding Kaylens' entire face furrowed with upset, yet she continued rushing between the cauldrons with a look of the utmost concentration. "How in the hell are you still-"

"If I leave them at this stage," she answered, anticipating the question, "they'll explode."

A sudden visual of the potion's lab, the entire far side completely collapsed from just such an explosion months prior, entered his mind. "Oh." How reassuring. He jerked his attention back to the mirror, finding that Moody's face was back in it. He wasn't looking into it though, he was looking at something past it, shouting random expulso and incendio spells as if it were his job.

Harry reckoned it kind of was.

"Moody what the hell is happening?"

"Just a minute, Harry. Taking care of something…EXPULSO…ugly." Something splattered through the air, flying past Mad Eye. It looked suspiciously like blood. "Ah, good." He turned his attention back to the mirror. "It was interesting because the cause of death wasn't trauma, Potter. It was suffocation."

Harry gaped, having trouble processing how normal Moody sounded. "Moody what the actual hell."

"Oh that. The Muggle villagers from Ottery St. Catchpole wanted to say hello."

Harry found himself making a sputtering sound. "And you expulso-cursed them?"

"Calm your shorts, Potter. They were already dead."

An invisible battering ram struck him – the plague. Harry sat up, urgently demanding, "Is everyone okay?!"

"Good question, Potter. Atta wizard, always thinking," Moody growled, bellowing roughly, "REMUS! You okay?"

"No!"

Moody returned his gaze back to the mirror with a maniacal grin. "Everyone's fine, Harry."

Once more Harry found himself sputtering. Off to the side Kaylens was swearing again.

"Anyways, you never forget your first crime scene," Moody persisted, still clearly scanning the area around him given it looked like he was spinning in a circle. "I got to see it on account I'd already figured out ways to sneak past Magical Law Enforcement wards, even as a third year." He sounded distinctly proud.

A second later the compact was snatched out of Harry's hands, Kally standing there, hair falling out of its up-do, golden eyes glaring daggers into the two-way mirror. "Moody," she practically snarled, "where's Remus? And so help me if you don't answer with specifics that include the words alive and bodily intact-"

The ex-Auror who had faced down hordes of angered, dark wizards grinned. "Told you she was a keeper, Harry. Look at that fire."

Kaylens' made such an angered sound that Harry feared she'd find a way to leap through the mirror to strangle the man. He made a hasty grab back for it. "So Hazel's dead. What about Paul?" He fought back concern for Ron, Ginny, trying to get information before Moody went and got himself killed.

Moody shook his head. "I was a third year when Voldemort graduated from toying with the dark arts to full-fledged psychopathy out in the world, Potter. I never met a Paul associated with him. Plenty of Pauls, but none in his gang."

"Any in Ravenclaw you remember?" he questioned, recollecting the journal.

"None that I knew."

Harry scowled, only for Kaylens to seize upon the moment of inattention to snag the mirror back. "Mad Eye…"

"I think Remus just got a bit of dead people in his eye," he said quite conversationally. "You do have some more of that antidote prepared, don't you, girl?"

Kally made an upset, angered sound, Harry once again snagging the mirror back and reminding her quickly that her potions were about to explode. It took the better part of the next five minutes to get out of Moody that everyone was fine, though Remus had been exposed and was on his way back to Hogwarts, so they might want to alert Madame Pomfrey.

As Harry exited the potion's lab to do just that, leaving Kaylens temporarily despite her protests, his head was pounding hard. But on the way Moody had a comment that was telling.

"You know who else you might check with, Potter? Bins."

As soon as Harry alerted Madame Pomfrey he did exactly that.


ECOTS


Kally's stomach twisted horribly, terribly until he was back.

That took an hour. Harry strode back into the dungeons, the wizard unceremoniously tossing down the picture of Hazel and the compact in front of her, the spitting image staring straight up.

Kally's breath caught, the Gryffindor swiftly shoving stray strands of hair out of her eyes, glancing up, away from it and from the scroll she'd been double checking ingredients on. She wet her lips, heart racing in fear at the answer, but asking anyway. "Remus?"

Harry offered her a reassuring, if not strained, smile. "Fine," he assured. "He's already in the hospital wing. Walked in wearing some kind of full body bubble. Pomfrey's already gotten two vials of antidote she still had on stockpile shoved down his throat."

She wet her lips, the heat from the fires catching her hair and sending the ends drifting up, as if being caressed by a disembodied ghost. "The Weasleys?"

He held her eyes resolutely. "House got the fidelius charm placed on it. Even if more plague victims stroll their way, they won't get within a thousand yards of it."

"Dean?"

Harry snorted. "Fine." She could have sworn he muttered unfortunately beneath his breath. She chose to ignore this, for the moment. "Everyone's fine. Though I'll remember to remind Luna, Neville, Hermione and Tonks about your clear concern."

From over a stash of camphorated spirit she growled a little.

In the dim potion's room lighting Harry smirked, impervious to her growls. Seeing him there, seeing him looking at her like that, seeing him solid…

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "You?" she whispered.

Harry shot her a curious look. "What about me?"

Heaving a sigh, she glanced down at the scroll, confirming that she'd next need to add a pinch of crushed mandrake root to the antidote. "Were you okay once you…" she could not quite meet his eyes, running her fingertips along the outer rim of the mandrake root's bowl. "Once you left here." Part of her was still scared, terrified even, that he'd have collapsed if not around her.

But here he stood.

The git was grinning at her. "You were worried."

"Shut up."

"I'm good," he promised, now echoing her words from before. "We're good, so I'm good. Alright?"

Kally nodded, plucking some of the brown powder up and dropping it into the cauldron. It fizzled, but otherwise had no noticeable effect. Sighing she moved to the next cauldron, already exhausted. In a few hours it'd be time to combine the last ingredient of the antidote by drawing. For now though…

She studiously scrutinized the farthest potion, the gummy liquid gleaming gold, the scent of frankincense now permeating the dungeons. Amomum, ginger, frankincense, along with a host of other magical healing herbs had been combined.

She'd also added phoenix tears.

She'd found that Snape had a small stockpile of them from Fawkes deep in the supply closet, probably long since forgotten about.

She'd cut herself intentionally while Harry had been gone, testing it to ensure that's what they actually were before adding them.

They'd worked.

And they were from Fawkes: Harry's Fawkes. Fawkes who was sick.

Harry quietly moved with her as she walked down the workbench, tending to potion after potion. Finally she paused, resting, Harry on one side of the workbench, her on the other. He was quietly watching her, unveiled concern in his gaze.

The same remained in her own.

But Harry was okay. He'd been able to leave the room without collapsing.

They were good, so he was good.

"So Remus was right," she said quietly, thoughtfully, her brow furrowing as she rolled a small vial between both hands. As sodding insane as it was, as long as Potter knew she was still sodding in love with him, he was fine.

Merlin she had so many thoughts about it, not all of them good.

She glanced down at the viscous fluid - it almost like syrup - in the cauldron. Then she glanced back up at Potter, almost shyly, even after sodding everything, finding his impossibly green gaze looking right back.

"Yeah," he agreed, "imagine that. I haven't scared you off yet."

Despite herself, she actually snorted. "Not for a lack of trying."

"It is," he drawled, "my specialty."

From the corner Fawkes made a content sound, the phoenix now nesting in a pile of clean potion's rags usually used to clean up spills or the blood of students bad at cutting up ingredients – so mostly Neville's. The potions book he had been using before lay shredded.

Standing there with Harry, only a work table and cauldron separating them, Kally couldn't help but smile slowly. The others were okay. Whatever had been happening to Moody when Harry had been two-way mirroring him, was fine, if not resolved. And Harry…

Well Harry was here, and she couldn't help but smile.

Rolling the vial of phoenix tears between both hands, an impish glint touched her eyes. "So, I suppose as long as I'm around you won't be needing these then?" She purposefully glanced at the clear vial and its scant contents, sighing dramatically. "And to think, I spent all that time digging for it. Seriously, Potter, do you have any idea how frightening Snape's supply cupboard is? Something growled at me."

Harry outright ignored that, instead tilting his head like a dog whose interest had been piqued. "Need what?"

Her lips instantly parted, almost aghast. "Growled," she repeated.

His dark eyebrows rose so high they disappeared beneath his unruly hair. "You've been apprenticing with Snape since November," he stated dryly, "and you're surprised by that?" Harry shifted, dropping a knee onto the workbench, placing both hands on the worktable and drumming his fingers in pointed thought. "Seriously Kaylens, was probably some poor first year he trapped for not turning in a perfect essay. They survived by feeding on the scraps of potion's ingredients and now have mutated into something else."

She cast a sudden concerned look towards the back supply closet – the one where Snape kept his private stash of dangerous ingredients – the one that she'd only recently been given access to along with Regulus for the purposes of brewing the plague's antidote, and frowned. "You don't really think he'd-"

Now it was Harry's turn to snort.

Her head whipped back around, finding Potter eyeing her with dark amusement while he casually continued drumming his fingers on the table. He nodded his head stiffly at her. "So what's in the vial, Kaylens?"

She hesitated for a moment, the spicy, woodsy aroma of frankincense rising hotly up around them. "Vial?" she said innocently, an errant strand of hair sticking damply to her cheek. "What vial?"

Potter growled a little, his arms flexing slightly. "Kaylens…"

She held his eyes, lips twitching in silent challenge. "Oh you meant this vial? Just a few phoenix tears from Fawkes," she relayed simply. "Why? Does that interest you?"

Instantly Harry froze where he was, his eyes widening as he looked from her, to the vial, then back up at her. Then his gaze darted with immediacy to Fawkes. She could practically see the wheels in his head turning.

Kally held it aloft and gave its contents a pointed little waggle.

Harry blinked. "You're not serious."

"Oh?" she questioned, tilting her head as if genuinely curious. "Aren't I?" Faking a small frown she looked at the vial again, persisting, "So I didn't test it out while Harry was gone, and I didn't use it in your potion either, did I Fawkes?"

From the corner Fawkes gave an agreeable sounding trill.

Potter, however, didn't sound agreeable. In fact, he sounded downright annoyed. "Snape had tears this whole damn time?" he stated flatly, as if commenting upon a particularly interesting flobberworm match. "I can't believe he didn't-"

"He probably just honestly forgot they were back there, Harry," she placated.

"Doubtful," he grunted. "Bastard was probably just biding his time until Fawkes and I croaked."

Her lips pated, stunned. "You can't seriously think he'd want you dead?"

"He would."

"He's a Professo-"

"Not a factor."

Kally had stopped passing the vial back and forth between her hands, the entire dungeon so unbearably hot that she seriously wondered if he'd gone temporarily mad. Around them the cauldrons steamed, simmering at a stable point in their brewing. "Harry he wouldn't-"

"As much as it pains me to agree with anything Potter says, regrettably he is correct in this instance."

Both Gryffindors whipped their heads around, finding the pale, black-robed potion's master scowling in the door frame. Snape swept into the room without preamble. "Do not presume, you insolent children, to know my motivations."

Kally's jaw practically dropped, Harry just meeting her gaze across the worktable and shooting her a 'told you so' look.

She practically hissed, "Professor, with Harry's heart damage-"

"I am aware," Snape all but snapped, "of the damage his ill-thought, brash actions have caused him." He turned his back to them, a regal flick of his wand sending a supply cabinet flying open, every single potion within shooting out to hover mid-air for his inspection. "Now," he continued with clear disdain, "did it ever occur, somewhere within the depths of what I am sure is a shard of intelligence, that our supply of such tears is limited, especially now with Albus having gone missing, and given that we are at war," he plucked up an empty vial and threw it blindly behind him, the thing clanking into the trash bin, "there may be other casualties on the brink of death that may find them of use?"

Claiming a corked phial with an iridescent, shimmering blue liquid within, he rounded on them both, a flick of his wand sending every single floating phial back into the cupboard in carefully stacked order. For a second he offered no further explanation. His dark gaze just flickered down to where she held the phoenix tears within her hands with unveiled disgust.

He abruptly scowled. "This is why you shouldn't have been admitted to the Order. Your decisions are governed by emotion rather than intellect. If either of you hope to survive I would suggest you begin using the ridiculous concept of discerning judgement."

Kally actually winced, Potter's gaze flashing with anger. "Don't," he growled, "talk to her like that."

Snape disdainfully ignored him. He kept his dark, disapproving gaze firmly upon her. "It is my understanding, Ms. Kaylens, that Potter here has some unnatural connection to both you and that…" his eyes flickered with condescension towards the shabby Fawkes, "floundering bird that is allowing him to heal, even if it is not quick enough for your clearly limited patience. He will heal, whereas others within the Order may find themselves in a less fortunate predicament. Thus the purpose of stockpiling the few tears we have left."

His lips curled. "As usual, Potter is breaking the rules of man and nature. How….unsurprising."

Kally opened her mouth to protest, to point out that Voldemort wasn't necessarily after everyone the way he was Harry, only Harry beat her to it.

"He's right."

Her head whipped around, staring at him in abject shock. "He's what?" She wasn't sure which part shocked her more, that a sodding cure for what was wrong with him lay within her hands and he was refusing to take it, or that he was agreeing with Snape for the second time in the span of a day.

Harry was no longer looking at her. Instead his jaw was set, his gaze fixed determinedly past her. "He's right, Kally. What if one of the Weasleys or someone else gets hurt while at the funerals? They could die without those. And with Dumbledore missing and Fawkes down for the count, we're not exactly getting anymore any time soon." With that he glanced towards Fawkes, a concerned frown creasing his brow.

Kally didn't like this; she didn't like this at all. "Harry, I added them to Fawkes' potion. He'll get better after-"

"Then there won't," Harry countered bluntly, "be any reason for me to take those, now will there?"

Green met gold, Kally's heart thundering as she stared at him from across the worktable. Steam rose up from the simmering potions around them, curling like floating snakes. She didn't know what to say: he was right.

And she had wasted at least one or two tears testing them…

Snape let out a scoff so loud, so derisively that it was like a gun had gone off. "Wonders never cease," he drawled, "the boy wonder's maturing."

Harry's hands had gone slack on the table top, eyes hard. "Don't," he grated, "call me that."

Snape just gave an indignant sniff, shooting her a scolding look. "Put those away before they get broken." With that he flicked his wand, several ampoules inscribed with Antidote #11 floating into a bag for collection. He strode towards the door in a cascade of dark robes, pausing only long enough to add, "Some of those other friends of yours will be arriving soon and quarantined. Make sure the additional antidote is ready. Our stockpile cannot get too low." With that…

He was gone. He left so quickly that the breeze from his wake sent a dark candelabra swinging from the dungeon ceiling.

Kally rounded on Harry, wanting to yell, to protesteven if he was right, all prior, mischievous amusement gone-

"Kally," he stated firmly, looking her dead in the eyes, "it's okay."

It took her a second to realize that that thing squirming around inside her was something like panic. "No," she contested, "no it's not, Potter. What if Voldemort attacks the castle? What if the potion doesn't work on Fawkes? What if you-"

She couldn't bring herself to voice that last fear aloud.

For some reason the corner of Harry's mouth had twitched, the subtle expression stopping her mid-rant. She gaped at him, quickly shoving errant strands of hair back behind her ears. "What," she questioned, "could you possibly find amusing about all of this?"

"Quite a lot, actually."

"Harry, this isn't funny. Until you fully heal you can't do magic. You could die. You-"

"I highly doubt," he interposed, "that'll happen while I'm at Hogwarts."

She made an upset sound, not unlike a whining dog. Here they were, with a cure literally between her fingers, and he was stubbornly playing the noble-sodding-hero again. "Harry please," she entreated.

Her plea had absolutely no effect on him, the wizard just drumming his fingers on the table, his shirt starting to stick to him from the humidity and heat. "It's really the Dursleys we'd have to be worried about," he mused with a far too casual air. "Honestly, reckon they'll be so disappointed I wasn't culled when the chance arose they might try to finish the job."

The git actually smirked at that.

She growled in response.

The amused look disappeared from his face abruptly. "Kaylens," he uttered with shocking seriousness, "if I took that, knowing I could have healed on my own if I were just patient, and then you, orRon, or Ginny or hell, even Thomas, got hurt and died when those tears could have saved one of you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself." His dark green gaze locked unapologetically on hers. "You get that, don't you?"

For a second she didn't move; she just stood there on the opposite side of the workbench from him, trying to not run through the thousands of horrible scenarios where him being gallant went horribly, horribly wrong.

Then she let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "Sometimes I utterly hate how stupidly noble you area, Potter."

"Yeah well, consider it an over-correction. I was almost sorted into Slytherin, so sometimes feel the need."

Her eyes flew open, staring at him.

"You could try," he drawled, "to look less shocked."

She tried, and failed. From the corner Fawkes let out a breath through his nose that sounded distinctly like a snicker – if birds could even do that.

Potter's mouth just twitched. "Ever tell anyone that," he told, "I'll deny it." With that he drug his hands and knee off the work bench, the infuriating wizard walking slowly around to her side. She just continued to stare at him, the phoenix tears clutched between her limp fingers, unable to say, to do anything to change his mind.

Harry reached her, stopping mere centimeters away, smugly comfortable with invading her space. It made her heart instantly race from something more than the dungeon's uncharacteristic heat. "You always," she whispered, breaths unsteady, "do this."

So close that she could see the flecks in his irises, he inclined a dark brow. "Do what?" he instigated, sounding damn innocent when he was anything but.

"Play," she whispered, "the sodding hero."

Potter gave a complacent shrug, before hepointedly glanced down at her hands. Then the idiot reached out, fingers brushing across hers as he carefully removed the vial of tears from her grasp, setting it firmly on the table.

"I won't," he disclosed quietly, "be needing those. I have you."

Every sodding fiber within her went weak. Kally wasn't sure what or when exactly he'd begun to have this effect on her, she just knew she wanted more of it. "Harry…" she murmured.

He just dropped both his callused hands onto her hips, his grip tensing, relaxing, almost rhythmically. "I'll understand," he continued, hint of wry humor in his tone, "given this new information, if you'd like to rethink running."

Kally could have melted into him, only barely restraining herself. The potions boiled hotly around them, the air steam-filled, heated. "Running's the last thing," she admitted, "I want to do right now."

"Mmm," he agreed, thumbs rubbing against her iliac crests. "That right?"

She practically shivered, breathe hitching as she felt Harry shifting closerHarryHa. Merlin… "Suppose, if we're being honest," she softly relayed, "should tell you…" his mouth was already close, her eyes fluttering shut. "At the sorting….that hat…" she felt his breath ghosting against her lips, his grip tugging her a half step nearer, her breath escaping in a needing gasp.

Whatever she'd been saying fled her mind, coherency, cogency gone at his firm touch. There they hovered, neither sealing the scant space between them. Tiny pinpricks of sodding electricity sparked beneath his hands, as if his merest touch carried the capacity to sodding electrocute her, if he only tried. Her heart fluttered, breathing growing shallow, swiftening…

"That hat what?" Potter breathed, voice oddly low.

Practically against him her lips curved, Kally's hands finding his upper arms, fingers curling against them. The muscles beneath… "It thought," she murmured, "my attributes would fit Slytherin perfectly, if my blood wasn't…what it was."

For a moment Potter seemed to grow unbelievably still, and then…

An impossibly low, rough rumble emanated from his chest. "I knew it."

That unbelievably small space between their lips was suddenly gone. Harry made a sound against her. It was the sound of a thousand harsh exchanges upon their first meeting, accusations of how she surely belonged in Slytherin, of how the sorting hat had surely gotten her wrong, all coming out at once as he kissed her with such a shocking need that she could only cling to him, hoping to hold on.

The woodsy, earthy scent of frankincense lingered within the hot air, Kally realizing for the first time that it was the scent of Potter. Whenever he drew sodding near her, when she woke up on him in the morning, whenever he kissed her, even with the rain pouring down around them as was his habit, that was the subtle scent that perpetually clung to him. The woodsy, earthy scent of grass and frankincense.

The scent of a phoenix; they subsisted off frankincense. It made a wonderful type of sense.

As these thoughts swirled through her mind Harry pressed her back against the work bench, kicking her legs out from beneath her, laying her down on it. She let out a sharp breath, his weight on her, mouth against her ear. "How long," he growled, "until these potions need stirred?"

Closing her eyes, leaning her head back to grant him access to her neck, to anything, she desperately tried to think. "Ten…twelve minutes?"

His lips slid down her neck, biting gently at her skin, kissing deeper into the hollow at the base of her throat. Kally shuddered beneath him, a whimper the only sound she could make that still sounded human. Strong hands, ones that had no strength to them only hours before, gripped onto her waist, the side of her face, Harry groaning, "Not enough time."

Despite his proclamation Kally couldn't help but shift against him, her leg sliding up along the bench, rubbing against-

Harry groaned. Loudly. "Kally…"

Shifting she claimed his throat now, fingers tangling against the back of his head, his hair sliding between her fingers, her wizard grunting, "Kaylens, seriously…won't be able to-"

She made a sound of agreement but made absolutely no move to stop what she was doing.

With a guttural groan Harry jerked, fisting his grip in her hair, his mouth pressed hard against the side of her face, the wizard snarling against her cheekbone. "Kaylens, you're potions will explode," he reminded, his other hand sliding firmly between the workbench and her lower back. With force he pressed her up, against him, Kally letting out an incoherent whimper-

Then he'd jerked her up to a sitting position, the wizard twisting her around on the bench like lightning, tugging her spine hard against his chest. She gasped at the speed of it, Harry's mouth now against the back of her ear. Not speaking, not saying anything.

Instead he just drug both his arms around her, sealing her against him in an unyielding vice, pointedly keeping her near but not instigating anything further. It was a long, long moment before either said anything, their swift, shallow breaths slowly returning to normal. Just the feel of Harry's mouth against the top of her ear had her shivering in the warmth of the boiling potion's lab, all five cauldrons bubbling, simmering, at a calm stage in their brewing.

"Minx," Harry finally muttered, one of his hands finding hers to intertwine with it. "Do you have any idea what I'd like to do to you right now, and can't?"

She made a disappointed sound to indicate her agreement.

He grunted in response.

Harry shifted his face against her hair, Kally relishing every second of the sensation. Tilting her head back against him, she closed her eyes. "You're," she murmured with unveiled amusement, "a Slytherin."

Now it was his turn to growl; only this time something from the back of the room, within Snape's personal storage closet, growled back. Both of them stared at it, but nothing rattled the handle, nor attempted to escape. "Well that's…disturbing," Potter muttered.

Kally wiggled in his arms, getting more comfortable. "Tell me about it."

"You know," he muttered, returning right back to the source of his initial growl, "you're going to pay for calling me that."

She just smirked. "Promise?"

Potter growled again, Kally's head turned just enough for him to seize her lips, claiming them…for awhile. Several minutes passed, potions bubbling, before she reluctantly pulled away. "The potions…I should probably…"

"Yeah," he hoarsely agreed, unwinding his arms to release her.

Kally took a second to let her head stop spinning – Harry had that cursed effect on her – before she glanced at the dusty wizarding clock on the wall, silently attempting to calculate what needed added next, to which potion and precisely when.

Dragon's blood was next, and it needed added in one hundred and ten seconds.

Kally's golden gaze searched the floor around them, and the table, eyes finally landing upon the doxie bone that had been holding up her hair. Reclaiming it and struggling to pin it back up, she couldn't help but not miss the way Potter was watching her. Her lips twitched just a little. "Something you'd like to say?" she questioned, twirling her hair around the bone.

Potter's jaw line just turned, in a slow-almost content sort of smile. "Not yet," he uttered. "Maybe later."

Kally's eyes narrowed, somewhat suspiciously. "Define later."

That slow, content smile turned into a smirk. "About two months, give or take."

She actually dropped the doxie bone, the impact of what he meant - what he still meant – hitting her hard. Harry just laughed at her reaction, the smug git tossing his legs up on the bench and laying back on it, one arm folded behind his head. "Try not to act so excited, Kaylens," he drawled.

There was still a sodding lot about Harry that drove her mad.

She wouldn't change a sodding thing though.

"You're impossible," she settled on, quickly snaring the beaker of dragon's blood and going about adding it. Still, a slight smile pulled at her lips, heart racing in a sodding abnormal way.

Harry just lifted his head up, frowning as he watched her dart from cauldron to cauldron. "What can I do to help?" he asked, sounding curious.

"Sit there," she told him very, very seriously, "and look cute." He wasn't touching anything.

He outright snorted. "Forgive me, but cute wasn't what I was going for."

"Pity," she said, pouring the last measured contents into the last cauldron of antidote, "here I was hoping to convince you to make your animagus form a cute, fluffy bunny."

Harry snorted again, now sitting up. "Unlikely."

From over the cauldron she shot him a mock pout.

"Not," he uttered, "going to work."

She stuck her tongue out of him in silent response.

"Now who's the mature one?"

She ignored that, checking on Fawkes potion. It was still a viscous golden gel, simmering and slowly swirling within the pot.

"I talked to Bins."

Kally stopped what she was doing, strands of hair having fallen in front of her face, the Reach staring at her off-topic boyfriend. Merlin, she'd never met someone who could topic jump quite so quick or effectively. "And?"

Harry stood up, brushing his hands off on his jeans. "Well, Bins knew of a Paul that was good friends with Hazel, but he and his family apparently upped and moved over Christmas break their sixth year. All the professors ever got was a letter notifying them of his school withdrawal. According to Bins he was a model student and the sudden transfer really upset Hazel."

Something thunked in the back storage closet, but Kally ignored it. "That's a bit…peculiar."

Harry nodded stiff agreement. "That's not even the weird part."

She inclined a solitary eyebrow in quiet inquiry.

"Paul was staying at Hogwarts over Christmas break that year. His housemates saw him go to bed, but didn't see him get up."

"So he disappeared overnight."

Harry grunted affirmation. "I think Riddle killed him, forged a note from the family, then killed the family."

Kally frowned, considering that. "How'd he have managed to kill the family from Hogwarts though? I thought you said that Dumbledore had said that Voldemort took all his breaks at school?"

"Because," he told, picking up a bicorn horn and spinning it, "Riddle was apparently so distraught he decided to go back to his orphanage for the rest of his Christmas break. Quite abruptly, Bins said."

Her breath caught. "If he did, there'd be no records left of them anywhere else. Is there anyway to-"

"Already," he assured, "owled Hermione. She's literally the best person I know for research. Plus she's with the Weasleys. If there's a way to look up wizarding records at the Ministry of Magic, they'll know."

She was still frowning. "Will those show records of the family if they moved to another country though?"

Harry grinned, uncharacteristically drawling, "Yup."

"Huh…so bureaucracy is more organized in the wizarding world."

Harry just continued to grin. "Nope."

She scowled.

Harry's grin remained for only another second, before he released a long breath, dragging a hand through his hair. "Anyway, you know that tree we killed in the Forbidden Forest? I reckon that was Riddle's first horcrux. I'm thinking he lured his 'friend,'" making air quotes now, "into the forest with him, then killed him to make it."

"Would make sense," she said thoughtfully, recollecting what Harry had told her about it. "Almost poetic, actually, to create a horcrux to rid yourself of childhood innocence by killing your childhood friend."

Once more Harry met her gaze, only this time there was no grin. "Yup."

"Well shit…that doesn't help us."

"We can still," he pointed out, "try to find Hazel's. She had to have been killed to make one."

For a long time both Gryffindors thought on it. Kally continued on the potions whilst Harry went back to pouring over Riddle's diary. Eventually she kicked Harry temporarily out to combine the more volatile ingredients, using her wand to draw. He hovered as near as she'd let him in the doorway until she was done.

Finally, late into the night, it was done.

So was Fawkes' potion.


ECOTS


They gave the potion to Fawkes, Harry leaning back on his legs and waiting with unveiled anticipation. The extraordinarily weak looking phoenix leaned his nearly bald head into the dish, slowly lapping at the golden emollient within it with his black tongue.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen. A sudden burst of fire? A swirl of inferno-like flames, from which Fawkes would emerge fully formed? Dumbledore to randomly appear with red-feather frills on his head?

He definitely wasn't expecting nothing.

Besides him Kally sat defeatedly back on the floor with a quiet hrmph.

Fawkes lifted his head from the golden potion and sent her a concerned look.

Harry sighed. They were still down in the potion's lab, Kaylens' looking exhausted after having drawn to combine four cauldrons-worth of antidote, and Snape's remedy for Fawkes had apparently failed. They were only marginally closer to finding the next horcrux, the lead they'd found on Paul one they'd already sodding killed. And now Lupin was in the hospital wing being treated for the sodding plague, others were still away for the damn funerals, and others were apparently in-route to Hogwarts to be quarantined, just in case.

For the thousandth time since he'd awoken in the hospital wing his head ached.

Hell of it was, Harry was used to it. It barely registered beyond that dull throb in the front of his skull. Half the time he could sodding joke with Kaylens without an ounce of sodding guilt. So he just sat there, next to Kaylens on the stone floor, his gaze narrowed critically upon the ailing phoenix. "I really wish," he stated seriously, "I knew how to help you."

Fawkes lifted his head from his latest beverage, fixing him with a dark eyed stare, as if trying to silently relay something.

Whatever it was, Harry didn't get it.

Fawkes made an irritated sound, smacking the bowl with his beak, before dipping his head back into it. Then he tilted his neck far back, gulping it down in strange, bird-like swallows.

Harry just groaned, reaching out and giving Fawkes' all but bald back a casual pet. "We should head up," he said, voice lacking conviction. "Once Fawkes has finished."

Kaylens just frowned, her beautiful face furrowed thoughtfully. "Probably," she finally, quietly agreed. The mood of before had grown considerably more somber, both of them having been convinced the potion would be a cure for whatever afflicted the phoenix. It hadn't been. Not at all. "Maybe I brewed it wrong."

Harry and Fawkes both shot her near-identical looks of derision. "Uh huh," he dead panned. "Kaylens, I saw the ingredients and instructions. Throw together and simmer. It doesn't get much more simple than that."

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe it was too simple. Or-" her expression fell. "Maybe adding the phoenix tears ruined it."

Once again both Harry and Fawkes outright snorted – together. "Last time I checked, phoenix tears didn't destroy healing potions. Enhanced maybe…"

His girlfriend just shook her head, reaching up and tiredly tugging the doxie bone out of her hair. The long tresses came tumbling down, framing her face in tangled, golden waves. Her eyes remained fixed on Fawkes, almost apologetically, before she reached out with two of her fingers, crooking them beneath the bird's chin and scratching comfortingly. "Sorry buddy," she told him. "We'll get it next time."

Fawkes nuzzled her fingers affectionately, lifting his nearly bald wings in what had to be a happy attempt to fluff them. Sadly it lacked the proper effect without the fluff.

Harry smirked somewhat sympathetically, Kaylens standing to inspect the rest of Fawkes' supposed cure. "I suppose I should finish bottling this," she mused aloud, "just in case."

From the ground Harry glanced up towards her, finding that she was standing there, both hands on top of her head, as if trying to decide what to do first. "Solid plan," he agreed. "Even if it doesn't work, Fawkes at least seems to like it."

"Ah," she said aloud, "my life's ambition is complete. I may as well quit Hogwarts now to become a professional culinary expert on avion foods."

At that Fawkes actually lifted his head again, looking at her with a slight preen to his trill.

Harry shook his head. "Shameless, you are," he chided, only for Fawkes to take a nip at his finger. Harry winced, yanking it back and shooting him an annoyed look. Hell, the bird had drawn blood. "Appears you've earned a fan, Kal," he muttered, shaking his hand out. "Bloody hell Fawkes, I wasn't going to encourage her not to make it for you again."

Kally spun to face them, both hands still on top of her head, her lips parting as she saw Harry's slightly bleeding finger and what he swore to things unholy was a smug, hopeful look on the bird's face. For a second she remained frozen, before a slight laugh escaped.

The sound was sodding perfect.

Harry couldn't help it; he was sodding beyond help where she was concerned. His gaze raked over her, finger now ignored. "Kaylens," he abruptly told, "you're perfect."

Now she was staring at him, that same half-amused, half-stunned laugh escaping. "Potter, you're insane."

"Duly noted," he affirmed, brushing his hands off on his shirt and standing up. "So what do you need help with?" She shook her head, hands still there, Harry starting to get slightly concerned.

He reached up and snared both of her hands carefully in his, removing them before she had a chance to pull her hair out.

Kalliandra eyed him with bemusement, Harry smirking and squeezing her fingers. "Come on, let's get this done with so we can go see Lupin and whoever else managed to get splashed." Knowing that no one had been seriously injured and that they had a ready stock of antidote on hand, thanks to Kally, did wonders for keeping him calm about this whole thing.

She just nodded, gnawing on her lower lip as she started doing just that. Without thinking Harry wandlessly reached out a hand and summoned a beaker. It flew firmly into his grip, Harry handing it to Kally, only she wouldn't take it. She just stared at him, eyes wide. "Potter, you're not supposed to be using magic."

He hadn't even thought about it. "Whoops?" he said, not sounding apologetic at all.

Instantly Kaylens was practically on him, snaring the beaker from his hand and putting it down before snaring his wrist. She wasted no time in flipping it over, her fingertips digging into his pulse point, her other hand rising to fall on his chest, directly above his heart, the insufferable girl looking as if she were counting.

Her clear concern had him raising an eyebrow after a good minute. "We satisfied I'm not going to keel over, oh-pseudo-Healer?"

The look she shot could have cut diamonds in half. "No," she said, glaring. "Last time you did magic you nearly collapsed, Harry."

He shrugged. "To be fair, I'd just woken up."

She scoffed, her fingers curling against his shirt and giving it a pointed, annoyed tug. "Three days prior. It's only been one more day, Potter."

Again, Harry shrugged. "Eh, consider it a win. Getting better."

"Given how bad you were this morning I highly doubt-"

The sudden, almost pained trill cut her off, both whipping around to find Fawkes' beak opening and closing in strange, truncated motions. A stab of panic shot through him, but before he could act, before he could do anything, Fawkes had stretched up on both his three-toed feet, bald wings stretching out, the entire phoenix giving a violent, spasmodic, full-body shiver.

Then there was a POP.

Followed by another.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Five feathers had sprouted out of Fawkes body, a sixth sprouting up as another frill on his head, the bird actually steaming.

Then Fawkes gave another, almost pleasurable looking shiver, before his tongue lapped out at his beak, slurping up the last drop of potion that had gotten stuck on it.

Harry and Kally looked at one another.

"We need more potion."


ECOTS


Three more days had passed, and Fawkes had adamantly refused to drink any more. In fact, the looks Fawkes was giving him every time he tried to force more on him were akin to 'screw off,' as if Harry was missing some sort of integral point the magical bird was not keen to spell out.

Naturally Snape had claimed that the 'distracted witch had clearly screwed up the potion' and re-brewed it himself.

Fawkes had quite literally kicked over that batch with a three-toed claw, black eyes glaring with annoyance.

Snape's response had been to add cinnamon.

If Harry claimed to not be frustrated, it'd be a damnable lie. He was beyond frustrated. No further feathers had sprouted on the phoenix. No progress had been made. Lupin, Tonks, Dean, Mad Eye, and Hestia Jones had all been confined to a temporary quarantine in the hospital wing – something about being exposed due to killing the plague's undead in marshy waters they were standing in. Thus far the only one who had gotten sick though was Lupin, and he was recovering quickly.

That was without mentioning that he and Kaylens had yet to figure out what kind of horcrux could have been made from Hazel's death. Then there was that niggling fear that Hazel and Kaylens were somehow related.

Their hair and eyes were too similar not to be.

Three days. Three days and the others had returned to the castle. Three days and two more of their dead had been buried. Three days and they were not a single step closer to killing Voldemort.

Harry tensely drug a hand over his head. Faint, colorful lights twinkled over the Black Lake, fairies from the Forbidden Forest hovering to pay their final respects to a wizard that had once rid their homes – trees of ancient caliber - of a hostile doxie takeover. Professor Gai had harbored more bite to his spellwork than his unserious, eccentric demeanor had ever hinted at. Thanks to that, he'd earned himself friends amongst the Fae folk. Now they lit up the night in his memory.

A mournful, gentle sound drifted on the warm breeze ghosting across the lake, the sound carrying across the grounds to where they stood, hiding amidst the shadows. It was almost musical, it taking Harry a moment to place the high-pitched resonances; the fairies were crying.

Tonight they paid their respects to Professor Gai – a wizard whose full legacy would never be known until Voldemort was dead and gone. The reporters – vultures from the Daily Prophet that had come – had only been told that he had perished defending his students from danger, saving the lives of nine in the same attack that Dumbledore had been lost in. They couldn't tell the world about the horcruxes yet, that he'd willing sacrificed himself to get them off a cursed island that Voldemort himself had put together as a play thing to protect a broken off chunk of his soul. They couldn't explain the sheer bravery the man had shown in Dublin, or in any other Order mission he'd been on.

The Order of the Phoenix was a sodding secret. It had been that way for decades. The reporters gathered would have a field day with it, if they only knew.

Harry leaned back against a tree, happy to keep his distance from the likes of Skeeter. "If you see any ladybugs," he instructed, voice loud enough to warn off any interloping reporters, "smash them."

Immediately Ron muttered lumos spitefully beneath his breath, inspecting the ground around them.

Kaylens just quietly wet her lips, eyes fixated upon the lake, the non-witch barely nodding assent, even if she didn't know the full story. She was one of the few able to discern the details in the dark, and she was transfixed by the little wooden pyres being held within the hands of each witch and wizard gathered by the Black Lake's shore.

"You can't just kill her, Harry," Hermione protested quietly, though her heart did not sound in it.

Ron grunted from where he was inspecting a low-hanging branch. "Like hell we can't."

Hermione's brown eyes flickered to him, lips parting as if to chastise further, only no sound came forth. The Prefect clearly was seeing the same thing Harry was: the firm, bitter set of his jaw, the slight nostril flare, the subtle splotchiness of pale skin.

Ron Weasley wasn't doing so well, even if he was masking it with a hell of a lot of anger.

Ginny made a small sound of agreement from her spot on the dewy grass, where she sat, clutching Neville's arm.

"At some point," Kaylens said quietly, still not averting her gaze from the waters, "you'll have to tell me why killing a ladybug is akin to a her."

"Oh, it's just Rita Skeeter," Luna said calmly, looking unnaturally solid despite where they were. "I don't think she counts as a person, anymore." Spying the questioning look from Kally, Luna continued, "Daddy says her human consciousness was lost in a dementor attack a long time ago and got replaced by a poltergeist's restless spirit."

Hermione cast her a somewhat startled look, as if shocked that Luna's father would ever come up with a potentially plausible explanation that had nothing to do with made-up, mythical creatures she didn't buy into. "Luna, I'm not sure poltergeists can actually do that."

"You could ask, Peeves, Hermione," Luna said placidly, tucking long strands of pure moonlight behind her ears. "He told me about possessing a vegetable in our hospital wing once. Years ago." She frowned prettily. "The student's family wasn't too happy once they found out."

From the ground Ginny snorted, disguising a sniffle. "Oh yeah, false hope really ought to endear them to him."

Neville just shook his head. "I knew Peeves was an asshole."

"He helped Fred and George get Umbridge," Ron growled under his breath, releasing the branch he'd been inspecting with such force that it snapped back up like a slingshot. "Redeemed himself if you ask me."

Once more the group lapsed into silence, staring towards the medium sized crowd that was gathered down by the lake. Amarante could be seen, sitting in the sand alongside Flitwick, head still shaven. Professor McGonagall stood awkwardly alongside them both for a moment, before sighing and taking a seat alongside them. A strand of the acting Headmistress' hair blew in the warm breeze, having broken free of its bun.

Harry's stomach lurched. Somehow, seeing the perpetually put together McGongall sitting in the sand, wringing her hands like a small child had that effect.

Had he not been able to see in the dark, he might have missed that.

And so they waited. People milled about, unusually somber, and yet even from back here Harry could hear soft voices drifting through the night, across the grounds. He'd stayed back, wanting to avoid reporters. The others from the New Order had all quietly joined him.

He also wanted to shield Kaylens. He wasn't an idiot. When pushed, when emotionally upset tiny pinpricks of golden light would glitter within her irises, her barely controlled, repressed magic revealing her upset in the only way it knew how. It was like watching miniscule fairies light up her eyes. He could only imagine how that would stand out in the dark.

This was a funeral. He imagined she'd be upset, and if the Ministry saw, they would know exactly what that meant.

Then they'd try to kill her.

Harry grunted, reaching out to snare the back of her shirt, tugging her backwards without apology. The non-witch practically tripped, her back falling against his chest with a startled sound, Harry dragging a possessive arm around her waist. They stood there, beneath the oak tree, his fingers flexing against her side almost rhythmically. Eventually Kally's hands fell down, reaching slightly back to slide along the outer edges of his thighs. He nearly shuddered, pleasurably, at her touch.

It was one thing he'd always appreciated about people like Kally, Luna, Ginny. They didn't always make him talk.

Harry reached up, his hand slowly twining its way through her silky hair, every strand like purely spun gold from one of those children's tales. Kally's breathing changed, her head leaning back into his touch as one-by-one, each person standing upon the beach approached the water, kneeling down to place their small wooden rafts at its edge.

"We should probably go join them," Ginny murmured sadly, Neville nodding, moving to drag her to her feet. Harry didn't miss the way Neville failed to release the red-head's hand once they were both standing, the two making their way down to join the other mourners.

Ron didn't either. "I thought," he growled, "she was dating Thomas now."

Hermione just rolled her eyes, the brightest witch of their age inconspicuously wiping at the corners of her eyes. "Let it go, Ron. Ginny can see whoever she wants. She's practically an adult."

"The hell she is…her boyfriend's in the hospital wing and she's off with Neville."

Typically Ron liked Neville, but the way he spat his name sounded as if he would rather like to use him as a chew toy.

"I don't think they're actually dating," Kally offered, by way of appeasing. "Possibly snogging a bit but…"

Now Ron growled in her direction, and despite himself, despite where they stood, watching the small, wooden floats in every witch and wizard's hands, Harry smiled sadly. "You're only," he told her quietly, "going to get him killed." She usually was rather adamant about protecting her best friend.

Kaylens made a noncommittal sound, as if nonflummoxed. "Dean's a big boy, Harry. He can defend himself."

He snorted, burying his head in her hair as Ron and Hermione both set off towards the beach, their hands awkwardly close, yet not taking a hold of the other. Luna glanced at he and Kaylens, quietly posing, "Aren't you coming?"

Before Kaylens could answer, he did. "Nah Luna," he said, voice unnaturally flat, "probably best we watch from here."

The girl's pale eyes glinted in the night, but she nodded, turning and murmuring a lumos charm, a pretty blue-white light emerging from her wand's end as she made her way down the sloping grounds towards the beach, looking for all the world like an overgrown fairy in the night.

Slowly, silently Harry continued his ministrations within Kally's hair, the non-witch letting out a sigh. He didn't miss the way she was trembling, or the unsteady quality of her breathing.

One-by-one the rafts were set aflame. They formed a fiery outline at the water's edge, the flickering fires casting heated reflections across the Black Lake. As if in response the spectrum of fairy colors increased, mingling with moonlight across its dark, rippling surface, creating a visual that would have been sodding beautiful if not for the circumstances.

A warm breeze carrying the scent of freshly cut flowers ghosted across both their faces, Harry feeling his own heart thudding, skipping as the funeral pyres began drifting out across the lake. Kally trembled, Harry holding onto her tighter. "He deserved better," came her soft whisper.

"Yeah," he hoarsely agreed, "he did."

Kally's eyes closed, as if it were no longer bearable to watch.

Harry did not miss the faint, golden glimmering, just before her long lashes fell shut.


ECOTS


From the hospital wing window they watched, a clock on the wall quietly ticking. Tonks pressed her palms flat against the cool, smooth surface of the glass, tears in her eyes as the Black Lake lit up with hundreds of small funeral pyres, all in Tres' memory.

Remus, Dean, Hestia, and Moody all lingered with her. A hand, one she so enjoyed fell against her back, the Auror able to discern Remus' touch from anyone else's anywhere.

Tres was dead. Happy, jovial Tres. She couldn't even imagine how Amarante must be feeling. The Gai brothers and her had gotten on like cats on fire since they'd first met. The blow, the loss of one of them, was horrid.

Out on the lake the tiny pyres continued to burn, hundreds upon thousands of colorful pinpricks of lights hovering over its surface. Silent tears streamed down Hestia's youthful face, her dark hair hanging limply, uncombed around her shoulders. It would be some time before Tonks would find out that the young Order member had harbored a secret crush on Tres, the recent Hogwarts' graduate harboring a new resolve to fight beyond what she'd had before.

Right now, Tonks knew none of this. Instead she sucked in a short breath, relaxing into Remus' arms, the plague be damned. Emily was being taken care of by Professor Trelawney, so for now…Tonks could let herself not worry for once about responsibilities outside the one she'd been secretly carrying for days.

"I need to tell all of you something," she said quietly, as the last of the funeral pyres began to fade.

The others turned to look at her, Moody's gnarled face narrowing in contemplation. Tonks took a deep breath, saying, "We need to get the rest of the Order here first."

Dumbledore might be gone, but he had tasked her with something: something that would affect the entire Order, and not necessarily for the good.

A patronus message needed sent.


ECOTS


Amarante Gai collapsed heavily onto one of the hospital wing beds, just on the opposing side of the quarantine barrier, looking exhausted. "I am spending," he stated dully, "way too much time here."

Fred and George Weasley exchanged glances, silently communicating something in a way only the twins could do.

An instant later they had nailed Amarante's hospital wing bed with an expansion spell, it now large enough to fit three people, the two Weasley twins dropping onto either side of the ailing wizard . "Nah, you know what I think Amarante?"

"That you like Pomfrey."

"Why else would you let her keep shaving your head?"

George frowned. "You know, some witches actually dig that bald headed look."

"Oh yes," Fred imitated in a mock high voice, fanning himself, "it's so masculine."

George nudged Amarante in the side. "Bet Pomfrey was a dish back in the day. Slip her an anti-aging potion and get us a full report of what she's got on under those hospital-"

"GEORGE WEASLEY!"

George's fantasy about what Poppy looked like in her younger years choked off in a strangled laugh at the sound of his mother. Mrs. Weasley stood there, in the doorframe, glaring daggers. She looked pale, sick, unwell, but the matron had strength enough to scold her son.

From the opposite side of Amarante, Fred snickered, and for the first time since losing his brother, a ghost of a smile touched the remaining Gai brother's face.

Kally drug a hand through her long hair, casting a wane smile of her own at the three. The Weasley twins were trying to be there for Amarante, knowing he was still on the road to recovery and depressed from losing his brother. She'd sodding kiss them for what they were doing if she thought for a second that Potter wouldn't hex them both to within an inch of their lives.

Fred caught her gaze, tossing her a wink. Then, with all the subtlety of a rabid wolverine trapped in a lavatory stall he pointed to his eyes, then at Potter.

Harry didn't miss this, having just walked in alongside Hermione and Ron, the wizard sending her a curious look. She just shrugged, inclining her head towards the barrier where there were still a few 'seats' left –and by seats she meant empty hospital beds that had been rolled up along the transparent quarantine's length.

Potter's lips twitched, saying something quickly to Ron and Hermione, before he sent her a 'just a minute' gesture.

He walked straight up to Mrs. Weasley. She couldn't hear what he said to her, but the woman took one look at him and had him in such a tight, almost violent hug that Kally actually winced. She'd have been mildly concerned for her boyfriend's wellbeing if he hadn't still been awkwardly patting her awkwardly on the back, proving he was still somehow alive despite the constrictor-like grip.

Ginny saved him, giving her mother a quick tug on the sleeve, Harry heaving a breath and shooting his surrogate sister a grateful look.

Unfortunately Mrs. Weasley was now crying openly, it Ginny's turn to awkwardly pat her on the back as supplications about 'everyone being okay' were whispered.

"Mum…" Charlie choked, heading towards her and helping her to a seat.

Despite this Kally didn't miss how Mrs. Weasley looked up once, away from her children, her eyes landing on her. Her eyes tearily flickered between her and Harry, before offering a weak smile at her. It was lightyears different from the suspicious looks she'd received last Order meeting.

Uncertain of how to respond, Kally offered a weak one back.

Harry snared her by the arm a second later, tugging her through the crowded hospital wing and towards an unoccupied bed. Every single member of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered within it, making it far more cramped than usual. Even Regulus and Snape were there, arguing in a corner about who possessed the least amount of intellect.

Within moments they'd cut through the wing to an unoccupied bed, Harry dragging her up onto it with him. A second later he'd tugged her practically into his lap, his back leaning firmly against the wall, her tugged tightly to his chest. Kally instantly relaxed, unable to help whispering, "What was that about?" in reference to Mrs. Weasley's slightly friendlier look.

Fortunately she didn't have to offer further explanation. "Reckon someone told her about the whole war bond thing," he muttered lowly, speaking directly against her ear. An unbidden shiver seized her, his arms wrapping tighter around her in response. "Upside of keeping me alive," he pressed in a dry drawl, "you get on her good side."

"Of course, because that's the only benefit."

Potter growled, nipping at her earlobe, Kally's feet sliding up along the hospital wing bed in shivering response-

"Oi, you two. Get a room!" George called, smirking as he tilted his head towards Amarante. "What do you think? We could dock citizen's arrest type of points for that?"

Amarante just scoffed, offering a weak smile.

Neville chose that moment to walk in, an entire crate levitated in front of him. An instant later he flicked his wand, the lid flying off, butterbeers flying up and out towards every occupant in the room. One-by-one Order members caught theirs, Kally snaring hers only a few centimeters from her nose, Potter's rumbling laugh earning him an annoyed glare.

Potter tilted the neck of his towards her in pointed request, his other hand otherwise occupied holding her. With a faked sigh of annoyance she twisted the top off for him, Potter cheekily muttering, "Thank you, luv," before taking a swig.

Kally took a swig of her own, ignoring the pointed pout that Dean was giving her through the barrier. Swallowing the honey-buttery liquid, she told him, "You're the one who went and got yourself stuck in there again."

Dean rolled his eyes, before McGonagall tutted. "For Merlin's sake…" A single wave of her wand towards the top part of the barrier allowed a small, square meter section to become temporarily permeable in one direction, several butterbeers flying through it. Tonks about leapt off the gurney she had been sitting cross legged on, snaring one out of mid-air like a dog catching a Frisbee.

Hestia just blinked as if the Auror had gone insane, Remus shaking his head.

"You okay Mooney?"

Potter's voice drew the werewolf's attention, Remus walking over to stand immediately next to the barrier alongside their cot. "Yes, Harry. Minus a few boils, the antidote has proven quite effective." He cast a rather disturbed look back in Tonks' direction. "Still, I'd rather spare the others catching it, and for some reason Nymphadora is stubbornly insisting on staying clos-"

"Oh you sexy hound, a few grotesque deformities aren't going to scare me away," Tonks cut in with an evil grin, but it, like everyone else's, did not quite reach her eyes. "I've already dealt with you being surly for years. A few little bumps aren't going to frighten me."

Remus offered her a strained smile. "Please," he pled, "do not make those your vows."

Her face lit up as if just hit with a remarkable idea.

The werewolf groaned loudly, turning back, his eyes flickering critically over them from behind the barrier. "And the two of you? I know we've been…somewhat absent."

"You had to," Kally pardoned, casting a glance towards the rest of the room, everyone engaged in different side-discussions. "Unless you always had some type of dream to play security guard at funerals?"

Harry drummed his fingers along her hip. "Never know Kaylens, he's a Marauder. The opportunity to cause chaos at inopportune times…"

Remus Lupin narrowed his eyes, but something sparked within them that took years from him. For a half-second, he almost looked young. "Hardly the appropriate time to be pulling pranks, Harry."

"Don't know," he countered. "Ask Fred and George. Might be the best time, when people are the most sad."

"Damn Potter, getting a bit deep for this late in the night isn't it?" Dean commented, hopping up onto a gurney alongside Remus, facing them and taking a swig of his drink.

"Oh look," Harry commented, narrowing his eyes in a dry jest, "Dean's here."

Dean lifted his drink towards Harry, smirking. "See? Knew you'd miss me most, Potter."

Harry groaned, Kally tilting her head back against his chest to spy his expression. He looked rather like he wanted to bang his head into something.

"So," she forced brightly, "truce going well then?"

Remus sent her a questioning look. "Truce?"

"They're trying this thing," she said flatly, as if discussing the mating habits of flobberworms and not two of the most important people in her life, "where they don't glare and snarl at each other, and try to get along and smile."

Her mentor flat out snorted from around his drink. "And how's that going for them?"

"Swimmingly."

Behind her Harry growled a little. "You're lucky you're a good snog, Kaylens."

Once again she titled her head back against his chest, peering up at him. "Wait," she protested, as if completely serious, "I thought I was using you for snogging, and you were using me for cuddling?"

He shot her a look. "I could think of a few things better than-"

"Harry."

They both shot guilty looks towards Remus, who was looking rather old all of a sudden. "Please, do not traumatize me any further. I get enough of that from Tonks."

"You're welcome," the metamorphamagus called, giving them a cheery wave from where she sat alongside Hestia.

Remus stared at her with a blank look of dread, as if just realizing he'd agreed to marry that. "I'm going to die young, aren't I?"

"Most likely," Dean agreed. "But hey, I bet she's great in the-"

Now it was Remus' turn to growl. He levelled an irritated look at the three of them. "When did all of you begin to get so cavalier with your…statements?"

Harry lifted his arm, taking another swig of his drink. "Dunno. You're the one who decided to give me a sex talk. Just had to open that door, didn't you?"

Dean barked out a laugh. "He what?"

Kally shot him a look that clearly warned him if he wanted to live he'd shut his mouth and never speak of this again.

Dean just waggled his eyebrows.

Remus changed the subject, speaking through the barrier. "So how are you, Harry? Really." He glanced at her then, adding, "Both of you?"

Harry just grimly smiled, nodding stiffly. "Good as we can be," he responded, "given the circumstance." With that he took another, long swig of butterbeer, his grip on her growing just a bit tighter. Kally made no move to protest being squished. Sometimes that was all he needed – to just sit with her, silently, mulling their insane world over.

For a moment it was almost peaceful, the pain in her chest over watching Hogwarts say goodbye to Professor Gai abating slightly.

Then Neville hopped up on the crate he'd just finished emptying, holding his butterbeer aloft, loudly clearing his throat.

It was like a ripple effect. Around the hospital wing every single person went silent, one-by-one, all heads slowly turning to look at the once shy Gryffindor. For a second he looked almost surprised that everyone had shut up and directed their attention to him, but he quickly shook it off.

Expression growing strained, grim, Neville's dark eyes flickered around the room between each and every single one of them, before landing on Amarante. The injured wizard sat there, the spitting image of the Phoenix they had just said goodbye to, holding his butterbeer between two shaking hands in a white-knuckled grip. Recovery from such a significant head injury was proving to be a long, and difficult road.

He and Tres had not been twins, but they might as well have been.

She felt Harry tensing behind her, his arms subtly shifting to tug her up higher on him. She adjusted willingly, Luna Lovegood perching herself on the end of the cot, where their feet had been moments previously. Neville still stood there, in the center of the wing, looking grim.

Finally his words, bitter and rough, echoed out against the ancient battlements.

"To the brave," he uttered, nodding towards Amarante.

Luna, Harry, Remus, Dean and her all lifted their butterbeers in silent memory, as did everyone else.

They drank. Amarante's eyes went downcast, but Neville's did not.

"To the one's willing to sacrifice, when there is no other option."

Kally's stomach flipped, Harry dropping his mouth comfortingly against her cheek, as if instantly sensing her discomfort. Tres was dead, Harry had been, all for that exact reason. Luna cast a quick glance at them, smiling sadly, before Neville again drew their attentions to him.

He stood there, face grim. "To the few willing to stand up against him, against all odds, for the greater good." Neville Longbottom swallowed heavily, looking directly at Amarante. "To Professor Gai."

Around the room they drank to Tres' memory.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Tonks spoke.

And she sounded serious.


ECOTS


Luna Lovegood sat cross legged at the end of the bed, Harry's legs bent up around where he held Kaylens, subtly making room for her. Kaylens had unconsciously done the same, her hand falling to rest against his thigh, their attentions riveted to Nymphadora Tonks as she talked – actually talked.

Talked seriously.

Harry's grip tensed on Kaylens as she relayed how Dumbledore had pulled her aside when they'd all been on that island, told her his plan, and then went and gotten himself pulverized in an explosion meant to kill the inferi.

But he wasn't dead. Harry knew that. Kaylens knew that. McGonagall, Snape, and Dobby knew that.

He didn't know who else did. He cast a look towards their transfiguration professor, the green-eyed woman catching his eyes and giving a subtle head shake – a silent request for him to remain silent on the matter.

Tonks had perched herself atop a supply shelf, much to Madame Pomfrey's dismay, her voice carrying from behind the barrier, finally getting to the point: "He asked that we make the Order public."

Harry's brow instantly creased, a murmur rising within the room. Tonks swung her feet, her heart-shaped features furrowing with a determined look that bellied the reality that, despite her statute and demeanor, that she was an Auror of frightening tenacity when the situation called for it. "He thought this was best," she pressed, voice firm, "because he is growing stronger. He's gathering more and more followers to him by the day. He's out there, recruiting, while we keep the fact that we even exist hidden." She paused, tapping her hands on the brim of the cabinet, forcing, "If people don't realize there is hope, that there are those already willing to stand against him, then they'll flock to the Dark Lord in droves and we will lose."

Her eyes swept the room in a silent campaign, Harry following Tonks' gaze, finding mixed expressions. Some looked thoughtful, others scared, whilst others…

Looked just as determined as she did.

"So," Tonks said, "what do you think?"

Instantly he could hear sounds of dissent, arguments being quietly whispered amongst those gathered.

Harry's jade gaze darted towards Dean Thomas, finding the wizard studying Tonks deeply, the line of his mouth drawn tensely. The anger Harry had felt upon finding out that Dean was a Death Eater, the wizard's explanation – that he'd been singled out, alone, his family threatened, with no knowledge of a resistance to actually help him – prevalent in his head.

It sure as hell didn't excuse the bastard from not having said no.

Yet Tonks had a damn point.

Harry's throat tensed, jaw working-

"He was right."

Kalliandra's voice broke through the dull din like a whip. Harry's heart pounded, acutely cognizant of what she was about to do, the wizard's chest swelling, sodding proud of her amidst everything else.

Abruptly his girlfriend shifted, extricating herself from his grip to sit up. Her tank top clung loosely to her, it having been necessary due to the heat of yet another day spent in the potion's labs before the memorial, every centimeter of her exposed arms tensed. Looking at the set of her soft, angular features, the fight in her eyes, Harry remembered every argument they'd ever had.

He'd been an idiot to think he'd ever win any of them.

His lips twitched, Harry simply watching, seeing her hazel eyes flicker briefly towards Dean, their eyes meeting…

Dumbledore's words, ones he heard through a mirror, whilst standing outside this same hospital wing with Snape and Lupin, haunted his ears like a phantom.

"Oh my dear boy, I am afraid that in our effort to ensure secrecy, I have perhaps forgotten the one thing that knowledge of a resistance could offer. Hope."

Kaylens had been there when they'd been said, the words about Dean.

Kally hesitated only a moment more…

Then she twisted around on the bed to face the larger group, shaking her head fiercely. "People are dying because his followers outnumber us," she exclaimed. "Most people will always watch out for what's best for them, and them alone. They'll join him without a second thought just to stay alive. You'd be a fool to think otherwise. Not everyone is noble. But if they knew there was a chance?" Again she shook her head, golden hair spilling around her shoulders. "If they have hope they'll help. We won't be outnumbered. We won't lose. If we can give that to others, shouldn't we do everything we can to do just that?"

From two beds over Fred Weasley let out a low whistle, George raising his fist and giving it a silent pump in the air. Amarante, ten years their senior, gave a thumb's up.

Not everyone was on board.

"No offense girls," Elphias calmly interjected, "but all telling the world of our existence will do is ensure our systematic extermination by either the Ministry or him. Then there won't be a resistance."

Kally's fingertips dug into the soft mattress, her eyes flashing. "That's not true," she practically whispered. "We're fighting now. We'll just keep fighting."

The old man shook his head. "You're young, which excuses your naivety."

Tonks hopped off the supply cabinet, landing on her feet smooth as a cat – Lupin did a double take at her sudden lack of clumsiness - and striding towards the barrier to peer through it angrily. 'What's the matter Elphias? Afraid?"

"Damn right I am, girl," he snarled. "I've seen him and his followers do things you can't even dream of. Haven't we lost enough?"

"No."

Every head in the room whipped towards the weak, yet unyielding voice. From his position, half laying-half sitting in a hospital wing bed that had become his permanent place of residence, Amarante Gai was trying to sit fully up by himself. "No," he croaked, Australian accent somehow thicker, "no we haven't, because if we don't win this then all the sacrifices, everything everyone has done, everyone we've lost-" he choked off, breathing hard as he glared openly at Elphias. "Then it's all been for nothing."

Elphias didn't so much as blink. "I cared for Dumbledore as much as anyone here, Amarante. I'm sorry for your own loss. But do you really think others, like the Weasleys," his aged eyes flickered towards Molly, "could stand to lose their whole family? That's what Dumbledore is asking of us, conveniently when he is no longer here."

At that Harry growled, Kally instantly finding his hand as he shot upright, her fingers calmly intertwining between his.

He gripped hers back, it silencing his shout. Yet it didn't stop his gaze from remaining heatedly fixed upon Elphias. The wizard's question lingered heavily in the room, Mrs. Weasley looking incredibly pained.

Charlie Weasley was the first to break the penetrating silence. "No, I don't think we could," he said, to the surprise of nearly everyone. Seeing the looks from his brothers, he instantly defended, "Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, we've already lost dad and Bill. And Percy is…" he scowled. "Percy is on the wrong side. We still might lose more, but openly putting ourselves out there? It'll be more of a target on all of our backs and I, for one, want to keep the risk of losing any other brothers at a minimum."

"Gee, thanks," Ginny griped.

Charlie shot her a look. "You know what I meant."

"It won't put more of a target on our backs," George growled, thudding a hand on Amarante's back in a sign of comradery. "Everyone already knows we're blood traitors, Charlie. It won't be anything different."

Instantly voices exploded, the room evenly divided, Harry's ears pounding with the pressure of the blood in his own veins. Kaylens just squeezed his fingers, whilst Luna continued to sit serenely, looking peacefully thoughtful.

"WILL EVERYONE PLEASE JUST SHUT UP!?"

A loud, shrieking voice practically exploded through the hospital wing, everyone falling silent as they saw Hermione Granger standing, her wand aimed at her throat. The brown haired witch sighed, muttering, "THERE….THAT'S BETTER," she said calmly, her voice still booming from the sonorous charm she'd clearly placed on her throat. "FINITE INCANtatem," she said clearly and distinctly, her voice growing quieter as the counter spell took hold.

Ron was staring at Hermione as if laying eyes on an avenging goddess of war for the first time. Hermione, to her credit, failed to notice, just shaking out her curly hair as she continued, "Obviously we're not all going to agree on this. So why not a compromise?"

"Hermione," Hestia said gently, from behind the barrier, "no offense, but how exactly do you compromise this?"

Hermione turned a blazing look on the room. "We come out, publically, but the identities of all involved remain a secret."

Elphias snorted. "And how exactly, girl, do you anticipate proving to anyone we try to recruit that we are who we claim to be?"

At that Hermione smiled so widely it was almost sinister. Harry abruptly leaned towards Kally, whispering in her ear, "This…is going to be good."

Kally just nodded her agreement, squeezing his fingers. For a moment his eyes lingered upon her, the non-witch sitting up straight, almost like a meerkat standing watch, her eyes still practically glittering with upset of before. It was so subtle it simply made her eyes look particularly golden, not unnatural, and yet…

Harry couldn't look away. Not even as Hermione began to talk.

"For the DA, we had everyone sign a document swearing secrecy. I created a spell that would mark anyone who broke that vow. I think I could create something similar for a tattoo, one we could keep invisible and would only be revealed if you know the specific incantation, that way Death Eaters can't just use them to identify us."

"You-you're suggesting we all get tattoos?" Ron sputtered, Harry's mouth merely twitching at how astonished his friend sounded.

Hermione shot the red head an exasperated look. "Yes, Ron."

Fred let out a whistle. "Hermione the rebel," he called out.

"Yeah, Ron snatch that one up before some biker does!"

Ron shot the twins a withering look.

Elphias, however, looked thoughtful. "Now that…." he mused, "that might actually work girl."

From behind the barrier the formerly silent Moody let out a growl. "About time we agreed upon something. Now Tonks, wasn't there something else you-"

"Yes," she caught on. "He also thought McGonagall and Moody should be co-leading the Order, for purposes of voting tie breakers." She rolled her eyes. "Something about Moody being necessarily reckless and Minerva being ruthless yet cautious."

At the descriptor every single member of the New Order still within Hogwarts snorted derisively.

Moody made a choking sound. "You didn't tell me the part about me, Nymphadora. You mentioned Minerva only." He looked none-too-pleased.

Tonks shot him a pointed smirk. "Whoops."

It'd been settled.

They had a plan moving forward. By the end of the night they'd decided to have the resistance leaked to the Prophet, while simultaneously having Luna's father leak it in the Quibbler. It'd offer hope, but provide enough skepticism to keep Death Eaters somewhat at bay. They needed word of their existence out, but they couldn't let the Ministry or Voldemort take it too seriously.

They would need propaganda. Anytime a Death Eater was captured they'd retaliate against the Dark Mark by using a mark all of their own. McGongall and Luna had offered to work on it.

Moody would be returning to work at the Ministry in the wake of Kingsley's death. He and Tonks would attempt to infiltrate whomever was working with the Death Eaters internally. George and Fred may have developed spontaneous coughs that sounded suspiciously like Percy during that discussion, earning them vicious looks from Mrs. Weasley.

Snape kindly pointed out, at some point, that the Death Eaters would be able to wager educated guesses who was a part of the resistance already. In fact, they would certainly know some members, heightening the risk to them. Mainly Harry, Moody, Tonks, Lupin, Neville, Ginny, Fred, George, Kally, Regulus, Amarante, Luna, Dean, Neville and Ron. Pretty much anyone they'd seen on the island or within Dublin. They would be able to wager educated guesses that the other Weasleys, Hermione and McGonagall were in it by default. And still…

It didn't matter.

Elphias groaned, but Hestia looked right at Amarante, whispering, "For Tres."

The brother of the dead nodded, something unspeakably tragic passing between the two.

The Order had a plan. It wasn't much, but they'd finally be using propaganda to fight back.

It wasn't long before most had dispersed, leaving only the Hogwarts students, professors, Weasleys ,and quarantined behind. "So what happened?" Harry finally asked, looking directly at Mad Eye.

The grizzled Auror just smirked.

Instantly several started talking at once, Molly Weasley looking weary as she calmly explained, "We performed the fidelius charm on the house, Harry, but it looks like Ottery St. Catchpole has fallen."

"But how?" Minerva questioned. "It was nowhere near any of the other plague zones."

From the corner Snape scoffed so loudly it was a wonder his nose remained attached. "Must we spell it out for you?"

Every head in the room whipped towards him, eyeing him with equal parts irritation and demand.

"For the love of dullards," he hissed. "It's not a secret that that family of continuously-procreating red heads and their friends are against the Dark Lord. Two of their own's funerals would naturally gather many of them in the same place, at the same time. I imagine the plague was specifically planted in the Muggle town nearest them to ensure their contraction and elimination as well."

Ron's eyes had gone wide. "We have a shared water supply…"

Everyone looked towards him, Ron instantly growing red. "What? I pay attention you know."

Ginny snorted through her nose. "Good thing we weren't using the well."

"Indeed," Snape drawled, looking almost disappointed.

Ron growled in his direction, Regulus Black holding up a hand and dryly telling, "Down boy."

"I'll give you down bo-"

"Ron," Hermione caught his arm, tugging him back.

"I would appreciate it," McGongall clipped in annoyance, "if you would stop goading my students, Regulus."

"I guarantee nothing," the last remaining member of Sirius' immediate family drawled.

Tonks groaned. "I cannot believe we are related."

The night proceeded in similar vein. The remaining Order talked, planned. Harry remained seated on the bed with Kaylens, having hauled her back against him, neither eager nor willing to let her out of his grasp. Professor McGonagall sat primly on the bed beside them, Luna and her beginning to discuss spellwork, Kaylens interjecting something to Dean.

Within moments the wizard had found a quill, drawing on a hospital napkin for several moments. A spell was added, the wizard frowning, then nodding.

Then he shoved it up against the quarantine barrier, his drawing revealed.

It was Fawkes.

The phoenix looked murderous, on the war path, like an avenging god of lore. His wings were spread out, talons aimed forward in attack, a ring of fire circling around him as the bird began to levitate up-

The animated drawing showed Fawkes' claws crushing the Dark Mark within their grasp.

Luna smiled, nodding approval. Even McGonagall narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, before declaring, "I rather think that will work well, for the message we are trying to get across, Mr. Thomas."

Dean, however, just grimaced. The determined, vindictive glint in his eye something Harry did not miss.

They had their countering for the Dark Mark.

They were no longer just going after horcruxes.

They were going after the Death Eaters too.

They'd wanted war.

Now they had it.